#anyway i’m not posting the asks here or responding to them because the language in them is fucking disgusting

[billyrayjo]

Stumbling Home With You (part 2)

** I am so sorry for the late post😭. I have been going through a lot for the past few weeks. I have been having crippling dreams about Jacob Elordi that have left me almost useless to do anything. Anyways, here’s part 2! **

Warnings: Violence, mature themes, vulgar language, sexual themes, SMUT(?).

As Azriel strided toward you, the only thing you could do was keep your gaze on his. The way he was looking at you was paralyzing, his steps slow and calculated as he neared the edge of the bed. Your heart seemed to be on overdrive as you watched his eyes take in your figure from head to toe, his eyes turning a shade of hazel you hadn’t seen before.

Now, you weren’t a virgin by any means. But, every experience you had ever had with a man had been pretty average. Whether it was an alcohol induced one night stand, or a casual fuck buddy encounter, none of them had ever been with someone who meant something to you. They for damn sure hadn’t been toe curling like the scenarios you might have imagined with Azriel over the last few months.

Azriel wasn’t someone you could have sex with and move on from. You aren’t oblivious to your feelings for him. You have had a deep rooted fear when it came to this moment for a while. Once you had him, you knew you were done for. You had basically fallen in love with him already, and adding sex into the mix might make you go absolutely feral. The fear of having him, and then losing him, was way more prominent than not having him at all.

You weren’t aware of the frown that had etched on your features from your thoughts, and when Azriel lowered himself above you, the look of concern on his face caught you by surprise. His eyes flicked back and forth from your own, and before you could wipe the frown off of your face, he was talking.

“What are you thinking about?” came from his lips in a soft voice. A voice you noticed in the past that was reserved for you. You tried to piece a response together in your head, but there were so many thoughts bouncing around you struggled to voice your feelings. Right as you opened your mouth to respond, a frantic voice in your head cut you off. The guarded look on Azriel’s face confirmed that he heard it too.

“Velaris has been invaded. Hybern soldiers have broken through the wards. Where are you guys?” Rhys exclaimed, a panicked tone hidden under his words. Before you could even register what was happening, Azriel pushed himself off of you, his gaze still hardened like he was replying in his mind. While he was occupied, you pushed down the throb in your chest at the loss of contact and headed towards your wardrobe. Pulling out your leathers, you began the process of getting dressed for battle.

“What are you doing?” Azriel asked from behind you. You could hear the shuffle of clothing as he pulled his leathers back on. “Putting on my leathers? You heard Rhysand didn’t you? Velaris is under attack.” you pushed out, your voice occasionally getting muffled by the fabrics being pulled over your head.

“Yeah I heard him. Why are you acting like you’re about to go fight them off?” he questioned, his hands busy strapping on his holsters when you turned to look at him. “Because Az, I’m not going to sit around here and let them attack our city without trying to defend it. I’ve been training for years, it’s not like I’m not capable..” you ranted, a feeling of frustration taking over at the look on Azriel’s face. It almost looked like he was disappointed, a mixture of concern and sadness taking over his features.

“I didn’t say you weren’t capable (y/n). I think it would just be safer for you to stay here until it’s taken care of. Me and Cass can handle it. Hybern soldiers have no sense of reality. They’ll do anything they have to if they believe it is to serve the king. I don’t want you caught in the middle of that.” he went on, pulling his shoes on and coming back to a stand at the end of his words. His gaze was unwavering from you as you stood before him. You were at a loss from his words, trying to think of what to say to prove yourself to him. You know he just cares about you and wants you to be safe, but it also sends a wave of doubt through you that he doesn’t trust in your abilities.

“I have to go. I’ll come get you when it’s dealt with.” he mutters, giving you one last once over before he turns and heads for the door. You watch his shadows open it for him, and right before he steps through the frame he turns back to you one last time. “Just stay here, (y/n). I’m serious.” coming from his lips before he continues out the door.

“Just stay here (y/n). I’m serious” you muttered to yourself in a mocking tone, your steps echoing around the stairwell as you descended. It took you all of two minutes to decide you were going to fight regardless of Azriel’s words. Azriel might have more experience than you, but this was your city too. You didn’t endure hours of training and the pain that followed to hide in your room at the next threat.

You don’t have wings, and you can’t winnow, so taking the 10,000 steps down to the city was your only option. For every single step, you boosted yourself up more and more. You focused on your breathing, cleared your mind, built up your mental shields, and talked yourself up in your head until your feet landed at the bottom, right in front of the door. You pushed the door open, and were shocked by the amount of chaos that hit you as soon as you were outside of the barrier.

There were soldiers everywhere, citizens of Velaris running and screaming as soldiers chased after them. Buildings were being destroyed, blood was coating the streets, and by the number of soldiers appearing at the border it was clear there were more coming. You took in your surroundings for a moment, your mind sharpening and the focus from your training taking over.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw what looked to be like.. water animals? Spotting Feyre below them on the cobblestone, you quickly darted in her direction. You swiftly ran through the streets, dodging debris and trash as you went. Rounding the corner of the street you were on, you skidded to a halt when four Hybern soldiers appeared right in front of you. Their backs were turned to you, their attention pointed towards the shop in front of them. You spotted a woman over their shoulder, stood in front of the door with a piece of wood in her hands. She was going to fight them.

As you were about to intervene, you saw movement out of the corner of your eye. Feyre stood across the street, eyes meeting yours, and without a word she nodded. A signal. She wanted to help. Without hesitation, you both took off. You let out a grunt as you latched onto the first soldier, wrapping yourself around him and pulling him down. He hit the cobblestone with a grunt, and as you rolled out of your fall he rushed to stand back up. When you turned around, he quickly rushed at you, his sword swinging frantically in your direction. You pulled the dagger out of your thigh holster and dodged his attacks, quickly disarming him before you stabbed the dagger into his chest and pulled it out just as quickly. After he was down, you quickly moved onto the next.

After 10 minutes of hand to hand with a few soldiers, you and Feyre had managed to take them all down. You turned to Feyre, your breaths coming out quick and harsh as she did the same. “There are still too many. We need to go towards the Sidra.” she explained, pulling a nod from you as you went to head that direction. You tried to ignore the blue siphons flashing above you as you both ran towards the fight.

The excitement had quickly turned into a repetitive sequence of running, fighting, running, fighting, and more running. For every block you ran, a group of soldiers would appear. They were relentless. The damage to the city only worsened as you and Feyre advanced, Feyre using her powers to do the majority of her fighting. Having powers would be nice in a moment like this, as you were left to your physical capabilities to take down your opponents. After multiple stops and fights, you finally arrived at the Sidra.

There was commotion everywhere. Hybern soldiers battling in every direction, buildings falling, screams erupting, water running. You wouldn’t be surprised if the sounds you were hearing appeared in your nightmares for the next few months. As you took in your surroundings, you pushed away the anxiety that flowed through you when Azriel appeared down the street from you, mid battle with a group of soldiers on his own. You analyzed the fight for a moment, trying to see if he needed help before you quickly turned away when his eyes met yours. You knew he saw you, and you were trying to avoid any more looks of disappointment from him.

You and Feyre continued forward, and right when you reached the bridge you heard movement from behind you. Turning around, you took in a massive group of shoulders heading towards the both of you. You quickly looked to Feyre right as she looked at you. You shared a wordless look before you both turned back toward the soldiers, you taking a fighting stance as Feyre conjured up her powers.

All hell broke loose. You and Feyre kept getting pushed back, soldier after soldier appearing right as you took down the one before. Feyre’s powers were getting weaker, and so were you. You kept pushing on, taking down one after the other that Feyre’s water wolves missed or that broke through the crowd. They were starting to surround you, leaving you no route of escape as you were distracted with the fights.

You were covered in blood, the soldiers and your own. You were tired, your body was weak, and your mind was jumbled. There were only a third of the soldiers left to deal with, the rest lying about the concrete in front of you. You had just been brought to the ground by a soldier when you heard Feyre let out a groan next to you. A soldier had come from behind her and pushed her face down onto the cobble.

Without even thinking about it, you kicked the Hybern soldier off of you and pushed yourself in her direction. As you stumbled towards her, her wolves began vanishing one by one, her power finally fading. The Hybern soldier that pushed her drew his sword and had it raised over his head, about to push it down into her chest as she rolled over to fight him off. You lurched forward, diving on your stomach to push her out of the way before a sharp pain erupted in your back. White filled your vision momentarily, your eyes wide and staring at Feyre as your vision came back to you. A sound you could only describe as a wheeze escaped you as your arms collapsed in front of you, the pain erupting into your entire body. Trying to push yourself up, your hands shook as you lifted them to connect with the ground, your eyes involuntarily filling with tears at the sensation.

Feyre was laying motionless and weak in front of you, her eyes boring into yours in concern as you stared. Body shaking, you tried once again to move before a scream was flying past your lips as whatever was lodged into your back was ripped out. The scream was broken and mangled, and you realized there was blood coming from your mouth when you coughed and it dripped onto the cobbles beneath you. Something hard made an impact with your side, and you realized the soldier was kicking you, a mutter of “Weak female.” coming from his lips as he kicked you again, sending air out of your lips along with blood as you felt yourself going dark.

Right as your eyes were about to close, you heard a roar from the distance before the ground was literally shaking with impact at someone’s landing. You knew deep down who it was, a warmth filling you for a brief moment before the pain returned ten fold. Your eyes closed and opened slowly, the fight to keep them open a struggle as you heard commotion around you. You laid your cheek on the ground, blood rolling down your cheek from the corner of your mouth and tears running down your temple from the corner of your eye. Everything in front of you was blurry as you looked off into the distance, the pain slowly turning into numbness as the seconds passed.

You thought you heard your name, but you couldn’t hold your eyes open. After closing them and opening them again, you noticed the face of the Hybern soldier laying in front of you. He was dead. You felt a presence beside you, and arms slid under you and slowly rolled you over as you groaned at the movement. “(Y/n). (Y/n) look at me. Look at me dammit!” Came from above you as you slowly fluttered your eyes open. Azriel’s face came into view, a look of pure distress on his face as he took in your features.

His eyes scanned down your body, his eyes locking on your abdomen before his hand came up to push on it. The sword had went all the way through. Not only were you bleeding from the back, but you were bleeding from the front as well. You felt nauseous at the thought, a sob escaping you at the realization that this was worse than you hoped.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay. You’re fine. Look at me (y/n).” pushed from Azriel’s mouth as he took in your distress. You slowly looked up to him, a small smile forming on your lips as you took in his appearance. His eyes were glassy, his face bruised and lip split from the battle beforehand. Dirt and debris covered him but he still looked as handsome as he always did. His hair was disheveled and his frown was evident, but his lip curved up slightly at the sight of your smile.

“Thanks for taking care of me, Azzie” slipped past your lips in a muffled whisper as your eyelids drooped, your soft smile unwavering as you reached a hand up to his arm and squeezed, the strength behind it not really there. At the repeated words from the night before, Azriel’s eyes only watered harder, his distress coming even more to the surface as he turned over his shoulder and yelled to someone in the distance “Where is Madja?!? She needs healing!” before quickly turning back to you.

His heart stopped when he looked back to you, your eyes closed and your head slumped back. “No. No. No. Wake up. Open your eyes (y/n). Wake up!” tumbling past his lips in panic as he pulled you closer to him. His shadows wizzed around the both of you, blocking you from the outside world. Right as he was about to scream a hand fell on his shoulder, and a comforting elderly woman’s voice muttered a “She’s okay. I’ve got it from here.”. He dropped his head down to yours and placed a kiss on your forehead before surrendering you to Madja.

As Azriel watched Madja tend to you, her apprentices coming to lift you from the ground and out of his arms, all he could do was pray to the Mother. Pray to her again and again that you were okay, and pray to her again and again that he would have the chance to show you how much you meant to him.

I SWEAR THERE WILL BE A PART 3!!! 😭 don’t hate me.

Tag list: @cherryinsalemverse @jeweline16 @torrick17 @amara-moonlight

#azriel x reader #azriel #angst #acotar #hurt/comfort

[poetrysmackdown]

some informal thoughts

hello! hope the holiday season has been kind to all of you. and i hope all my jewish followers had a lovely hanukkah! anyways, since i said a few months ago that i’d pick poetry smackdown back up sometime around this time of year, i thought i should make a post. the gist of it is that i’m still quite busy, i have a break that’s about three weeks shorter than I was planning on, and i don’t currently have the mental bandwidth required to read, contemplate, and sort through poem submissions in a way that does justice to them, even if i were to recruit some friends to help out. since running a tournament format requires at least five weeks of continued engagement once it’s underway, and since i’m not at capacity to offer that right now due to the change in my schedule, i’m gonna have to bow out for now. sad bc i was looking forward to it!

my hope is that i’ll have some more time over the summer to hunker down with it, in which case you’ll be hearing from me. it’ll frankly depend on the kind of job i land in for the summer, but i find that my unemployed spirit can typically keep me doing stupid shit regardless of workload...to a point. i don’t want to make any promises because i don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up just to let them down again LOL. i do admit the amount of exposure the first tournament got has made me feel like more of a perfectionist this time around, doubly because i don’t feel that i’m very suited to being a public online presence (even a relatively quite small one)—i’m bad enough at responding to emails for my own real life responsibilities, let alone tumblr asks for the silly responsibilities i invent for myself lol. that’s not to say i no longer want to do it, or i don’t enjoy it, or even that i don’t feel capable of making a really interesting bracket—just that if i am working to put something new together, and if people are taking the time to submit poems they care about, then i don’t want to half-ass it.

my second admission is something like this. I made the original bracket as a celebration of poetry and our relationships to it. yes it was silly and competitive, and the poems were very tumblr, but still, celebration was the intention—I wanted to have conversations about poetry. I stand by the bracket format as a fun and valuable way to foster conversations about poetry, but truthfully, the poems i’m wanting to have conversations about right now—the poems that we should be talking about right now—are ones that i'm not comfortable putting in a bracket. I reblogged The Baffler’s Poems from Palestine collection on here earlier, and Najwan Darwish’s “Who Remembers The Armenians?”, which I still often find repeating through my head when I'm traveling from one place to another, walking home or riding the bus. I came across this beautiful thread recently where people have been translating Dr. Refaat Alareer’s “If I Must Die” into their own languages (this just makes my translator's heart sing!!!!!!). @havingapoemwithyou has been posting some great poems from and for Palestine as well—check out their tag here.

There's always more to add, and I'll be posting more on here as I come across it, but that's what I feel anyone should be focusing on right now when it comes to poetry. i think poetry can be an escape but it should never be a distraction. does that make sense? i wouldn't be against doing a one-off poll here or there, but it feels weird to be making a tournament for poetry right now, or anytime soon. i feel like what free time i have right now is still best utilized helping my friends with organizing in the real world. and god, a bit off-topic but while I'm talking, fuck poetry foundation—I have so much respect for all the poets keeping up the boycott, because while i think it's a simple decision, it's not always an easy one (Aurielle Lucier discussed that here).

anyways, if you read all of this, thank you for your time!! I could go on and on, but really this was just meant to be a message telling y'all that there won't be another tournament for a while lol. even so i'll be trying to use this small silly platform as best i can until palestine is free because that's the absolute least i can do.

#not a poll #also i'm closing my ask box for now because i know i don't have the bandwidth to answer anything rn. sorry :( #but feel free to reply here with your thoughts and any resources and i'll do my best to respond #or even messages might be fine. something about the ask format just gives me anxiety sometimes lmao #cannot stress this enough i am so so so bad at responding to things #even when i want to or enjoy doing it

[ochoashusband]

Hii there! I saw this post and it’s really cool! and also your writing is very cool (since I think your posting writing content for a first time?) anyways, I’m here to request something and would you care if I sent in a matchup? Anyways, here I go!

Could I request (platonic) Class 1A with a Male! Reader who came from Iraq? And they also have Alastor’s Personality from Hazbin Hotel? And maybe the reason why his family moved from Iraq was because it was very dangerous to stay there because of his hometown?

Thank you and have a good day!

OMG SECOND REQUEST, LETS GOOO!!

I haven’t watched Hazbin Hotel, so I might not give you exactly what your looking for 😭 I read his personality description and he kinda reminds me of Monoma LOL

i’m also gonna do this in headcannon form!

CLASS 1A X MALE! READER W/ ALASTOR’S PERSONALITY!

okay, starting off i lowkey think some of the students would probably find you creepy 😭

since you’re always smiling and trying to act polite, I feel like Denki, or maybe Mineta would try to break your act

Once Mineta tried to break your act and he got his arm broken instead and nobody minded it because well.. it’s Mineta LMFAOO

After that nobody really messed with you, except for Monoma, I feel like Monoma and you would get along pretty well

Monoma and you would probably mess with other people and most likely bully one of the students 😭

I feel like halloween would be perfect for you, you can play all sorts of tricks on your class

Also the day of the sports festival, i feel like you would be laughing your ass off at the other students who lost LOL

You would probably point at them and laugh 😭

since you’re also from Iraq, Midoriya (also everyone else) would be pretty curious about you.

They would probably ask about your customs, and what language you speak

I feel like Mineta would probably say something like “Can you speak iraq?” because he doesn’t know what languages there are LMFAO

You would correct him by saying that it’s Mesopotamian Arabic (since it’s the most commonly spoken language in Iraq)

They would ask you about your hometown and why you chose to come to Japan, you would respond with the story of what happened in your hometown

Uraraka, jirou, iida, & Koda would try to comfort you about your hometown

Mineta, Denki, Kirishima would probably compliment you because you were brave to leave your hometown

Short story!!:

You where walking into the big gates of UA, after you finished the entrance exam you where lucky enough to have racked up a whole bunch of villain points! After a while you finally received a letter from UA stating that you got in to the hero course! The first day of school rolls around, You finally got your uniform on and was heading out the door. After a high walk and a bus ride you finally got to UA, where only the top get to be. If you remembered correctly, it stated that you where in class 1A, so you found your way there. You opened the large door, only to reveal a boy with green hair standing frozen in the doorway, a blond boy with his feet up on the desk, a boy with blue hair yelling at him, and the rest of the students watching. “Oh, now this won’t do!” You say as soon as you step in, “Why don’t you settle down now?” You asked the blue haired boy. “I will not! This kid is blatantly disrespecting UA by putting his feet up on the desk! We are in the top school of Japan! Show some respect!” The blue haired boy yelled out. “Now, now, no need to get all feisty with me,” You said as you grabbed him by his waist and twirled him around and pushed him onto a seat, “No need for all this wacky nonsense.” You say to the blue haired boy with an eerily smile. Everyone just stayed quiet, not saying a word as they stated at what was going on in their classroom. You heard the bell ring and the boy who was at the doorway finally sat down along with some other students, the day was ready to commence!

I hope this is okay!! Like i said, i haven’t watched hazbin hotel, so im not sure if i have you exactly what you hoped for, but i tried my best into making him with alastor’s personality!!

Also, thank you so much for requesting!!

#mha x male reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha x male reader #x male reader #x reader

[cozage]

Hi! Can I ask Ace with a boyfriend who can speak French please ?

(If you need to translate some words in French you can send me a message)

Feel free to ignore and have a good day/night :D

Characters: Portgas D. Ace x male! reader

A/N: hi there! Thanks so much for your request!! I don’t speak French, but I also didn’t want to spoil any part of your request for you. Luckily, I have a few French friends who helped me out with some of the translations! I hope you like it :) (For those of you who are non-french speakers, I have the translations at the bottom of the post!)

The Language of Love 

You’re out of the deck with your boyfriend one day when you get a splinter in your hand and mutter a string of curses under your breath. 

Ace’s head whips to face you. “What did you just say?”

“Putain,”* you repeat. “It’s French.”

“When did you learn French?”

“I am French”

“WHAT?!?!”

“ACE. I HAVE AN ACCENT AND EVERYTHING!”

“I thought that was just-” He pauses a second, unsure of how to end that sentence. “So what does it mean?”

Cue ENDLESSSSSS pestering. “How do you say that in French?” Becomes his new favorite phrase.

Curses are the first thing he learns, naturally. He uses them EXCESSIVELY. When other crew members ask what he’s saying, Ace just smirks. “Don’t you know? It’s French.” He adds a little flare to the last word for dramatic effect. 

“You only know that because of your boyfriend!”

Ace is quick to respond with some witty response. “Jealous much? Too bad, he’s mine.” If you’re around during this interaction, he always follows this up with a quick peck on your cheek, as if to mark you as his. 

It’s not long before he starts asking about mundane things too. “When is dinner?” “Quand est-ce qu'on mange?”. “The moon is beautiful tonight.” “La lune est belle ce soir”. “How was your day?” “Comment était ta journée?”. “I’m hungry.” “J'ai faim”.

When you all visit Ace’s brother and his crew, you find that the Strawhat's cook is French as well, and you all spend a good chunk of your visit talking in your respective language. It’s kind of refreshing to meet someone who can talk to you in fluent French again. 

Luffy hates that he can’t understand a conversation, naturally. “HEY! SPEAK LIKE US! NOBODY UNDERSTANDS YOU GUYS!!!” Sanji laughs at his captain. “Yeah, that’s the point, Luffy.”

Ace can’t help but feel a little jealous in watching you and Sanji laugh and talk together. He can’t help but feel like you all are sharing a secret moment, an inside joke. He wants to be a part of it too, laughing with you two. Instead, he’s sitting on the outskirts, picking out a few words here and there that you’ve taught him so far. 

Ace doesn’t know it, but you and Sanji are just talking about your respective loves. You gush over Ace, and Sanji talks about his secret love for the green-haired swordsman that sits nearby, dozing off. It seems you both have similar taste in men, which sends you both into another fit of laughter. 

Luffy stomach finally interrupts you all, and Sanji leaves you to go cook for his captain. As you look around, you realize Ace is nowhere to be found. 

You ask around, and Robin mentions she pointed your boyfriend in the direction of the library earlier. The library? That didn’t sound like a place Ace would frequent, but you head up that way anyway, hoping to find him. 

As you pass by the window to the kitchen, you glance in to find Ace sitting at the counter, talking to Sanji while he cooks. When you walk in, their conversation stops abruptly. Ace starts blushing, as if he’s a child that’s been caught doing something wrong. 

“Oh hey, mon amour,”* Ace says, attempting to redirect your attention away from whatever you walked into. He smiles as you approach him, and you felt your heart skip a beat. He always managed to have that effect on you. He interlaces his fingers with yours as you reach him, and he tilts his head towards you, a silent beckon for a kiss. Of course, you give him one without a second thought, already forgetting about the awkward silence you walked into. 

“I’ll call you when the foods ready,” Sanji says, turning back to the stove. Whatever conversation they had been having was over now. “But if people start congregating in here, Luffy will join. And he’s troublesome in the kitchen.”

Ace laughs at that thought, and leads you out of the kitchen, hands still intertwined. “Robin told me you were in the library.”You don’t state it in an accusatory way, and you know Ace recognizes that. Still, though you can’t see his face, his ears begin turning a dark shade of pink. It’s his telltale sign that he’s been caught, you’re just not sure of what. 

“Yeah. She recommended a book to me. Thought I’d check it out, but it wasn’t really my style.” His voice is cool and even, but he still refusing to face you, and his ears are growing redder by the minute. 

You hum in acknowledgement, but don’t press the matter further. The two of you just had a mutual trust with each other, and you knew he’d explain more whenever he was ready to. 

After your visit with the Strawhats and back on board Whitebeard’s ship, you notice there’s some moments throughout the day where Ace slips away. It’s not uncommon for you all to go do your own thing sometimes, but he never offers any details about what he’s doing or where’s he’s been. It’s a little strange, but nothing you overly concern yourself about.

One night you’re sitting below the stars in the crows nest. Ace was on night watch duty, and you always preferred to keep him company on nights like this than to sleep alone. Neither of you have said anything in a long while, you’re just enjoying each other and the silence of the night. 

“Hey, Y/N.” Ace’s voice was hushed, barely a whisper. 

“Hm?” Your back is pressed against him, your head resting against his chest. He’s just warm enough to keep the cold air from pricking your skin, and his arms are wrapped around your midsection to keep any cross-breeze at bay. 

“Je t'aime de tout mon cœur”* His voice is soft, but warm. It always reminded you of the first sunny day after visiting a winter island. But when he says such words with such passion and filled with such love, you can’t help but fall even more.

You hadn’t taught him that phrase. You had never even exchanged “I love you’s” before. Your head turned slightly to face him, and you softly caress his face. A smile dances around your lips as you look up at your boyfriend. “Now, when did you learn that, le soleil de ma vie?”*

He smiles shyly and chuckles a bit. “Sanji taught me, and Robin gave me this book to learn important phrases. And well, that felt pretty important…” he trails off, embarrassed with himself.

You laugh at his demeanor switch, running your thumb across his freckles. Ace wasn’t one who liked to ask for help often. That he was willing to ask other people for assistance for this… your heart soars.

You kiss his jawline softly and nuzzle against his chest further. “Je t’aime aussi, mon cher.”* And you really, really do. Even in the language of love, there’s not enough words to describe your love for him. 

*Translations for non-french speakers :)

Putain: fuck 

Mon amour: my love

Le soleil de ma vie: the sun of my life

Je t'aime de tout mon cœur: I love you with all my heart 

je t’aime aussi, mon cher: I love you too, my dear

#i hope you liked it :) #one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #portgas d ace #ace x y/n #ace x reader #requests #cozage #✧˚ace✧˚

[amidnight--dreary]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks so much for the tag @zsparz !!!💖

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

166!

2. What’s your total ao3 word count?

2.013.111. I write when I‘m stressed, can you tell?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly the MCU. Frostiron my beloved 💕 I recently posted a Huskerdust fic, though, and a couple years ago I posted some Good Omens stuff! I have another Good Omens wip brewing, but I haven‘t worked on it in a while.

4. Top five fics by kudos

First one up would be Your Call, a multi-chaptered ABO Frostiron thing that‘s sadly unfinished because I‘m not happy with where it was going somehow. Then Corners of Reality, my baby, Yes or No, Dereliktion and last but not least Vita Nova!

5. Do you respond to comments?

God I try. I’m so bad at it though. On long fics I always answer comments on the last chapter when I post the new one, but I keep forgetting to reply to comments on older chapters or oneshots😭 They all mean the world to me though.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Ohh I wrote a few angsty oneshots but it‘s been a while. Maybe Here, that‘s the most recent one. Of the older ones I remember all my light most clearly. Tony is dead or dying in both of these lol, poor Loki.

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I like to think the happiest endings in stories are ones you had to fight for a little bit, so maybe Dereliktion. That was a long ride filled with angst and messed up relationships lol. I think Haywire (my first and so far only Sentinel/Guide fic, I love that trope a lot akfj) also has a pretty fluffy ending, and I have some oneshots that are pretty much all fluff!!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Occasionally? Just the other day I got another anon ask on here complaining about my recent stories. Makes me extra thankful for everyone who takes the time to tell me they enjoy my stuff!!💖

9. Do you write smut?

I do! Pretty much all the time lol. I love writing Dom/sub relationships!

10. Craziest crossover?

I don‘t think I‘ve ever written one before?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yesss. I‘m not sure if they just didn’t know any better though, they deleted the copied parts as soon as I told them.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes!! I‘m always so happy when that happens!!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Also yes. One year I did a whole Frostiron Advent calendar with @rabentochter (do you remember this????? How did we have the time??????? Insane) and we wrote a few more collabs beyond that.

14. All time favorite ship?

Frostiron!!!!!!!!!!!! I love my sassy messed up geniuses lol

15. What’s a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Uhhh I‘ve got a few. I‘d like to finish/rewrite Your Call. Once I also had the cracky fever dream of Loki doing random standup comedy shows in New York because he‘d KILL that. Can you imagine the sarcasm. The gallow‘s humor. Anyway I started that and then realized I Cannot Write Standup Routines at all. So there‘s that.

16. What are your writing strengths?

What I like to write the most is character and relationship development, so hopefully I‘m decent at that? Also dialogue, I hope, but that kinda comes and goes depending on the conversation.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I kinda suck thinking of longish plot that goes beyond “will they kiss?? Will they FUCK???” so I’ve been trying to practice that. Also scenes with lots of action😭

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I like it. I’ve been wanting to write a fic where Tony can properly show off his language skills but I don’t know enough languages to pull that off lol

19. First fandom you wrote in?

The VERY first was Dracula, back when I was 13 or so. I had a big thing for van Helsing back then. My first fandom on ao3 was Once Upon a Time!!

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Ooohhh. That would be Corners of Reality, because I worked on it for years before I even started posting it and I love how it turned out. It’s a slow burn time travel enemies to friends to almost lovers to enemies to friends to lovers to enemies to allies to lovers fic. I had SO much fun writing it I still think about it all the time😭😭

I’m just gonna tag some writers I know are on here: @endlessstairway @xottan @izhunny @arabesqueangel @bouncydragon no pressure though!! And if you see this and you’re a writer please consider yourself tagged!!💖

#ask game #frostiron #fic rec

[luckytidbit]

Food for thought.

Ok so I've seen an anonymous ask on someone’s blog recently about people being rude in the unwind community, (which first of all, if you’re being rude, shame on you.) I've seen mention of, actually no I’ll take it verbatim. “I like scrolled by multiple of peoples posts and fics about like theories and stuff, and most of them have people getting mad over them or feeling the need to prove it wrong? Like I get it, but it's just an idea 😭”  This community is pretty small and I haven’t seen any other unwind theory posts lately (Unless this person is talking about ao3, I’m not on there.), so I’m left to assume this ask is about the “Connor’s brain coping after his unwinding theory.” And the reblog I left on it, so let’s break that down shall we?

Personally, I grew up on Film and Game Theory so I’ve never seen debunking a theory as something that’s rude, just a part of a community helping another have the correct facts. Which by the way, @korokeea, if I’ve upset you, I am deeply sorry, it was never my intention to do so. My reblog was supposed to be seen as playful banter. (Side note, dream endings are very amateur, don’t do them unless you know what you’re doing. Even I wouldn’t do them, (I think I’m amateur anyway <:D.))

Also wanted to add that I should be using tone indicators, and that also I’ve seen examples of people whose first language isn’t English not understanding Western satire, so my apologies if I’ve confused you.

Now that I’ve addressed the main point, there was also something else I wanted to bring up.

This is obviously a parody of LIVE SLUG REACTION I used to add to my reblogs of Conland content (Connor x Roland), I also might have confused people doing this. I don’t think Conland is anyone’s cup of tea, personally, I see it as a crack ship that lives rent-free in my head, but I can understand how I could’ve confused someone. I honestly do like A Dog With A Bird At Your Door A Lot, even if the notes say “I hate gay people.” (Like, C’mon now Kuromi.)

Honestly, I came here to create art and not be judged for it, I have one to two irl friends that I see almost daily. The rest of it are just classmates that will turn on me the moment I say something that doesn’t fit their dialogue. (If you get what I’m saying, I have to say the right thing or they’ll look at me funny.) I’m honestly super stressed and pretty prone to anxiety right now, graduation, prom, removal of wisdom teeth via going under (anaesthesia), you name it! So you can see why I find a great sense of escapism in Tumblr.

Lastly, I wanted to say that in this community it is almost impossible to create micro-communities because of our small size. You CANNOT be vague or make inside jokes because almost everyone follows each other. On the original ask post that I first talked about, the responder mentioned a “that one guy” and my poor mutual @bopeisdope thought they could be that one guy. (Which is completely wrong, she and @lazysailor are the sweetest people I have ever met here. Oof sorry side tangent.)

Anyway If you made it through this thing, thanks for letting me get this off my chest.

#I’m aware I’m being a hypocrite by being vague #But think we all know who made that post #I’m still gonna be hella active on here #When you stop being vague you’re free to come at me fuckers #lol no #I don’t need more stress in my life #unwind dystology #unwind #apology

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hi! This is my first time requesting so if you're not up for writing this please just ignore it.

Dragon reader whose species is almost completely extinct , Dragons are always known as big and dangerous creatures so when the murders start happening (canon murders.) Ironically during the same time she enrolls in the school everyone immediately starts blaming the reader (Because dragon bad blah blah blah.) This includes Wednesday and Enid who posts on her blog about how dangerous and murderous the reader is and how everyone should shun them. (The police don't have enough evidence to even hold the reader in a cell.) The reader is constantly beaten and considers taking her life at this point until she meets Marilyn who sees a chance to have a servant bigger , smarter and faster than the hide. So she manipulates the reader into being her lover/servant and tells the reader that actually she and Tyler are behind the murders but the reader is so deep in subspace by this point that they don't care. So Marilyn who now has no need for Tyler outs him (But doesn't out herself.) And Tyler goes to jail.

But now that everyone knows Tyler was the murderer they also know that the reader is innocent and are constantly harassing her about forgiving them and telling her that she's being Dramatic, they end up doing this so much that the reader snaps and tells everyone about how she almost ended her life and also snaps on principal Weems about how the reader reported everything to her and how nothing was ever done about it and how their racism almost cost her her life. Marilyn steps in and clams the reader down who was 2 seconds away from transforming into dragon form and afterwards a smut where Marilyn tells the reader that they are all gonna be dead soon anyways so there's no point in wasting energy on them.

That is all.

Yesss!!! Here it is!!! Sorry about the delay!!! Maybe it's too long, but no one can stop me when I'm inspired ;) I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))))

Scales of hate

Pairing: Marilyn Thornhill/Laurel Gates x Fem, Student, Dragon! Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of suicide, implied slightly smut, dark themes, bad choices, bullying, depression…

Word count: 10,054

Summary: You were one of the last dragons, and when your family sent you to Nevermore, things got worse to your dangerous depression…

N/A: Requests are open!!! Sorry about the delays, I’m working hard on your requests. I love you all!!!

When you crossed the common patio, what your new classmates called "the quad", the eyes turned towards you, all of them.

You arrived at what would be your new home, Nevermore, the most important school for outcasts in the country. You knew that in a school like that, going unnoticed was complicated, but the news seemed to spread like wildfire.

“So it's true?” A blonde girl asked, touching your shoulder. She seemed cheerful, but her face also had a certain wary feeling. Next to her was another girl, more serious and dressed in black, like one of those old movies you enjoyed so much.

“What is true?” You asked, not wanting to be too abrupt. Socializing wasn't your strong suit, but you also didn't want to make a bad first impression.

“Well, that… That you are…” The blonde girl said, avoiding contact with your red eyes.

“A dragon,” the other girl finished. She seemed like she had no problem looking into your eyes, her appearance was perhaps a little arrogant.

You sighed and, seeing the zero need to lie, you nodded, crossing your arms.

“Well, yes I am, but people usually call me, (Y/N),” you responded ironically.

“Wow… You know? We had never had dragons in Nevermore, the teachers told us that they had been extinct for years,” the girl Said, sighing with some relief. Everyone acted that way when they knew your nature, with the passage of time, you stopped giving it importance.

Comically and with some sarcasm you looked at yourself, shaking your head.

“Well, here I am,” you said dryly. You looked at the other young woman, who seemed to be studying you thoroughly with her eyes.

“I see… I'm Enid, by the way,” she said, extending her hand towards you. You hesitated, but your senses immediately identified the particular scent of a werewolf, so you shook her hand briefly.

“Principal Weems puts a lot of things at risk in this school,” the other girl said, arms crossed, narrowing her eyes at you. You were used to hearing worse things.

“Wednesday…” Enid whispered, nudging her. “You shouldn't make her angry the first day… You know, teeth, claws… An enormous size…”

You smiled wryly, with the same defiant look with which she looked at you.

“That I'm here bothers you?” You asked with a soft tone. It was not easy for you to lose your temper, the consequences were terrifying.

“I don't know, it depends,” Wednesday said, tilting her head. “I have read many books about dragons, and none of them said good things.”

“Oh, the books, of course. Literature never did us justice,” you said, wanting to escape as quickly as possible.

“30 books that say the same thing can't be wrong.”

You frowned and noticed how your breathing began to quicken. Luckily at that moment the principal appeared, with a smile faker than a $15 bill.

“(Y/N), how lucky you are here…”She said, sighing with a strange relief. You could see prejudice everywhere, your life was always like this, people used to be nice, but only because they thought that at some point you would transform and slaughter everything in your path.

“Principal Weems…” Your two companions sighed.

You didn't say anything, you just took one last look at that dark, distrustful young woman and let yourself be guided by Weems, who seemed to almost push you offstage.

“I'm glad you're starting to get to know your classmates,” Larissa said, as you went up some stairs.

“They looked very enthusiastic about having me here,” you said ironically. The woman didn't say anything, she just gave you a fake smile while she handed you a set of keys in front of a door that was different from the others.

“This is your room,” she said. You nodded and looked at the three keys and then at the door. Three locks, of course.

“What about my roommate?” You asked, when Larissa told you which key went in which lock. “Shouldn't you introduce her to me?”

“Oh, well, I thought that perhaps you would be a little more comfortable if you were alone, your uncle told us that you didn't like the company too much,” she explained. You nodded passively and listlessly.

“And the thing about the armored bedroom is for my privacy, right?” You asked sarcastically as you opened the locks.

“It's a new system that we're testing, you know, to prevent students from "breaking the rules," you know what I mean,” she said, winking at you.

You widened your eyes at that pathetic excuse and made a sour face for the woman to get out of there.

“All your stuff is here, put things to your liking, tomorrow you'll start classes oh, and one last thing…” She said, making you look again through the door that you were already closing. “Put your uniform.”

You didn't say anything and frowned, giving that draconic look that you knew scared people, thus putting your theories to the test. Larissa stepped back and put on a bigger and more fake smile.

“Well, if, if you want to, of course,” She said with a broken voice. You rolled your eyes and closed the door in the middle of a standard formal parting sentence.

You took a look at your room. It was dark, with a small window. It was no longer just that the door had three locks, or that you were at the top of the school, cut off from the rest of the world. It seemed like you were in some kind of jail. You drew the curtains to find the next surprise.

“Bars? Really?” You asked to yourself, when you opened the window. “There is nothing like feeling at home...”

Sighing, you fell back on the bed and reflected on the last events of your life.

You didn't know much about your family, about your parents. They died when you were just a baby. You've lived with your father's brother since that. He told you lies about losing your parents, until one day, in one of your usual tantrums as a little girl, you wreaked havoc on your uncle's little farm. Then the truth came out.

You were a dragon, one of the last, if not the last. Your parents were too, but unfortunately in small towns people didn't have an open mind.

Centuries and centuries of bad fame, of series and movies where the dragon was the enemy, the terrifying being that came to end humanity, had made a dent in the population, causing them, after an incident that occurred in the town, to blame your parents.

The police did not have enough evidence, they were innocent. But people wanted revenge instead of a rational explanation. They died after a mob of people with pitchforks and torches. You survived thanks to being hidden.

The rest of your life was a concert of prejudices, prohibitions and punishments. Looks of fear and hatred from everyone, cruel advances from your former colleagues. Basically hell. Nevermore didn't seem like the solution and you didn't have to see it for yourself. You knew it well days before you arrived.

You were mired in a very serious depression and your problems did not seem to go away, not even with the treatments of the well-paid psychiatrist who used to treat you, or rather, prescribe you a bottle of painkillers every two weeks.

You left that bottle of pills on the table and you stared at it, as you did every day for a while. You always thought horrible things, give up, stop living in misery, stop living indeed.

You were a coward, you never dared to do it. You were also delusional, thinking that the next day would be better, that there was still some hope. Day after day, you were wrong.

Nevermore seemed to be a refuge for all the outcasts. It was sold as the only opportunity for those who had been rejected by society. Lies. You couldn't leave your room without seeing terrified looks towards you, without comments and stupid questions about how many cities you had razed, if you had ever killed, or if you were dangerous.

They were partly right. You had strength greater than any creature that resided there, you could outrun anyone, you could fly, you could spit fire. You were a terrifying creature, but harmless. Years of self-control by your family forced you to contain your abilities, not to respond to ridicule, to pretend to be a weak girl, without a soul, without the desire to defend yourself, without the desire to exist.

Being on your uncle's farm at least you were allowed to transform from time to time, fly around, feel free. You couldn't do it in Nevermore, Larissa made it very clear to you when you arrived.

Although apparently that girl Enid seemed somewhat closer than the others, she didn't usually get close to you either. In your first classes there was a great void around you, as if you were a carrier of some infectious disease. You could smell the fear, the hate, the rejection.

At least you had the woods. Every afternoon, you went out to vent among the trees. Roaring in rage, pulling out your claws and knocking down a tree along the way. No one saw you there, it was the closest thing to being free, the only thing that made you not look with desire at that bottle of pills.

“Twelve seconds, a new record…” You sighed, panting, stopping your watch.

It was a rainy afternoon, the perfect weather to run and unleash your destructive instincts. You leaned against a tree and looked up at the gray sky, while the raindrops fell on your face.

“Sheriff, honestly, I doubt it was a bear,” a voice that caught your attention said, making you automatically turn your head towards the source of the sound.

Stealthily, you approached what looked like a crime scene. There was a police car and two people examining something in the rain.

“Where is the right arm?” the man asked, who looked like the sheriff of the town.

“It's the only thing that's missing,” the woman who was next to him replied.

You hid behind a tree and had to hold back a scream when you saw what looked like body parts scattered around the area.

“Oh shit,” you whispered, listening carefully to the conversation.

“It's already the third, Donovan, what are we going to tell the press?”

 “What do I know…” The man replied, looking in your direction. “Tell them the bear is back.

“But sheriff…”

“I know, I know. I'm pretty sure this all has to do with that bloody school, but until I find out the truth, it's going to be a fucking bear.”

You listened carefully, trying not to be discovered, because they were looking around. Immediately all your alarms turned on. Several heinous crimes, a dragon, Nevermore. You just had to connect concepts.

You escaped from the place as fast as you could, being a bit unsettled by that information. It could be you, but you were sure it wasn't, it had been more than ten years since you lost control of your actions enough to forget about something like that, besides, the victim looked like a hiker, not a student of Nevermore, which would be your most likely target.

“Well, in today's class, we will talk about one of the most fearsome creatures that exist,” the teacher of "dangerous creatures" began to explain “Dragons.”

You looked up, noticing how the eyes of your companions immediately settled on you. You ignored them and frowned at the teacher.

“Well, for centuries, humanity has feared these monstrous creatures, responsible for destroying several cities and killing and devouring millions of people.”

A raised hand caught your attention. It was Wednesday, the sinister girl who questioned you the day you arrived.

“Mrs. Frampton, what drives a dragon to destroy? Is its nature?” She asked, looking at you out of the corner of her eye.

You knew how scared they were of you at school, but that question seemed a bit strange to you, but just to you. Everyone else was looking at the teacher curious to hear the answer.

“Very good question, Wednesday. Well, many experts have come to the conclusion that, regardless of having a human form or not, these creatures always have the instinct to kill, to destroy. It is said that every time a dragon is born, humanity loses a century of life expectancy. Fortunately, these specimens are practically a rarity.”

“Rarity? What about me?” You said, drawing the attention of the whole class.

“Ms. (Y/N), raise your hand to speak...” the teacher said, without looking at you.

“Excuse me, but I think I have the right to speak,” you said, getting up from the chair. “What you are telling is a pack of lies.”

“Sit down, (Y/N), don't make me have to call Weems,” the teacher said, taking several steps back, since you always sat in the front row.

“What you are saying is false,” you said, doing mental exercises as your uncle taught you. If you didn't, things could get ugly. “Dragons don't have destructive instincts, that's what petulant writers with their ass glued to their chairs who have no idea what they're talking about say.”

“Oh, and I suppose you have more information, don't you?” Frampton asked, her voice shaking.

“Dragons have always been defenders of peace and nature until some lords with spears and bows decided that they should slaughter them to the point of extinguishing them.”

“Of course, and those guardians of nature defended it by killing innocent people…” Wednesday said, from the back of the class.

“You have no idea what you're talking about…” You sighed, starting to feel too nervous.

A few knocks on the door interrupted this tense confrontation. Principal Weems peeked out sheepishly.

“Excuse me, Cynthia, can I take (Y/N) with me for a moment?” She asked. You looked at her scared, you didn't have a good feeling.

“Yes, please…” The unpleasant teacher sighed. You clenched your fists and walked through the aisle of desks, while you listened to how your classmates moved their chairs away from you as far as they could.

“What's wrong?” You asked when you left the class. Larissa shook her head, but she didn't answer, simply motioning for you to follow her to your office.

When you entered the eccentric office, you noticed something disturbing. The sheriff and his deputy were there.

“Is that her?” The man asked, looking at you suspiciously. You didn't say anything, looking at Larissa, who nodded with that fake smile that got on your nerves.

“Please, (Y/N), sit down,” Larissa told you kindly. “This is Sheriff Galpin and his deputy, Agent Santiago. They want to ask you some questions.”

“Me? Why?” You asked, while you sat down.

“Relax, it will only be a moment,” the assistant answered you, with a tone of false kindness.

“Well, (Y/N), your file is amazing…” The sheriff said, flipping through some papers. “I must admit that when they told me you were a dragon, I expected something more… Terrifying…”

You didn't respond to that comment and you noticed how your hands began to sweat, slightly showing your scales, something that embarrassed you.

“Well... tell me, miss, where were you yesterday at 4:30 in the afternoon approximately?” He asked, turning on a recorder. You immediately widened your eyes and looked everywhere, feeling cornered.

“This is an interrogation?” You asked annoyed, confused.

“It's just a few questions, (Y/N), it's okay,” Larissa told you, resting a trembling hand on your shoulder.

You snorted and after blinking several times, you cleared your throat.

“I was in the woods,” you said sincerely.

“What were you doing in the woods?”

“Running. I go running every afternoon,” you answered again. You had nothing to hide, although the image of that torn apart body was still very present in your head. That interrogation had something to do with it, you were convinced.

“Yesterday was a rainy day…” the sheriff said, with a suspicious look.

“I like the rain,” you answered.

“And this boy? Do you like him?” He asked you, handing you the photograph of a young boy. You looked at it well. You've seen it before, at least his head. It was the murdered boy. You shook your head, handing the photo back.

“I don't know who he is,” you said, crossing your arms.

“Are you sure?” Galpin insisted. “Because by chance this poor boy was seen entering the woods at 4 in the afternoon and half an hour later he was found dead. What a coincidence.”

“What are you insinuating?” You asked, noticing the sweat falling from your forehead.

“I'm insinuating that you were in the woods at the same time, and, well, given your nature, it's not unusual to think that…”

“Oh no, please…” You sighed, almost laughing. “You're not thinking that I was the one who…”

“The body was found brutally dismembered, obviously in a way impossible for a human being, but that fits a creature of your characteristics,” the sheriff interrupted. You shook your head, unable to properly respond to those accusations. You looked at Larissa, asking for help, some support, a presumption of innocence. You only found more prejudice in her look, concern.

You had heard how Weems seemed to want to defend Nevermore at all costs, but you saw how those rumors seemed not to be true, rather it seemed that she thought you were guilty. It would be useless to want to defend yourself. You were there, at the scene of the crime, you were a monster.

The only thing that could save you at that moment was the advice of your uncle, a lawyer before he became a farmer. They not were comfortable with your presence on the farm, but he respected family above all else, and he helped you whenever he could.

“I have not done anything. I was only there by chance,” you said, trying to appear sure, firm.

“We'll see about that, for now, come with me to the police station…” Galpin said, gesturing for you to get up. You looked back at Weems, who seemed to indicate with her eyes that you do as you were told.

The whole school saw you walk out with the sheriff, enough humiliation for that day.

There they took your fingerprints, a more official statement, but they let you go, they had no real evidence for their misfortune, but they warned you that they would be after you.

You walked around the quad, ready to go back to your room and sink into bed, crying. But the gazes of all the students were strangely riveted on their mobile phones and glanced at you from time to time.

You didn't understand anything, but you knew that something very bad was happening. Larissa told you that one of the students had a blog in which she shared things about Nevermore and other gossip things. As if by a premonition, thanks to the extraordinary abilities of your ancestors, you picked up your phone and took a look at the blog.

Your suspicions were fulfilled. There was a new article in it, talking about you, how dangerous you are, with information that the stupid Frampton must have told them, about your species, the danger people are in with you and how avoiding you could save their lives.

You were burning with rage and the scales were beginning to show on your skin. With your eyes, you looked for the author of that infamous blog, Enid, the cheerful and gossipy werewolf from Nevermore. You soon located her, chatting with her friends at one of the tables. Puffing, blowing smoke out of your nose, you moved closer to her.

“Hey, what are you up to? What the hell does this mean?” You asked abruptly, showing the phone to the young woman, who seemed scared when she saw you.

“Don't talk to Enid that way, you monster,” a girl with sunglasses said unpleasantly.

“Well, then she shouldn't talk like that about me,” you said. “Hey, why did you write that?” You asked the young woman, who seemed to be trembling with terror.

“Enid only does a public service,” Wednesday answered, appearing behind you. You shook your head with a desperate smile on your face.

“Look, you have fed me,” you said, taking a step closer to the blonde, who had hidden behind the vampire.

“Hey, don't come any closer.” A boy approached you. He was wearing a ridiculous wool cap for what you assumed was one of those disturbing gorgons. He was not alone, a gang of what looked like bodyguards accompanied him.

 “Ajax…” The blonde murmured.

You didn't understand what that attitude was about. You never hurt anyone, ever. Now you were seeing how a whole school of people who were supposed to be just as mistreated as you were terrified by your presence.

“I'm not going to do anything to her, I just want her to delete her last blog entry…” You explained, fed up.

“You shouldn't exist,” a boy said, hidden behind the gorgon boy.

Some murmurs proved that he was right and they began to approach you, you did not know with what intention.

“Leave me alone,” you said when everyone started pushing you. Your self-control exercises were not enough for such a threatening situation. It was absurd to think that any of them had any chance of scratching you, but getting angry was not the best of their options. You closed your eyes, trying to ignore the words that accused you of being a murderer while those who thought they were the bravest shoved you.

Your body was relaxed and in the end you were knocked to the ground. In your head you imagined calm hills, a sky full of clouds, while you felt the feet of your companions on your back. Your heart was beating fast and you were unable to concentrate. Anger began to rise through your body, your hands began to shake and you opened your eyes, screaming loudly.

All the people who were hitting you immediately shot away. Some came back for you, this time with the humiliation of having exposed their ridiculous strength. You got rid of them one by one, throwing them against the wooden tables.

When you realized what you had done, it was already too late. No one had proof that you were the one who murdered that boy in the woods, but now you just gave it to them. The bullies no longer approached and looked at you in terror.

“I'm sorry, I…” You stammered, looking at the girls that were still at the table, hallucinating. All except Wednesday, who looked at you with satisfaction.

“My God, (Y/N)…” A voice interrupted that tense moment of silence. One of your teachers, Marilyn Thornhill, came up to you with wide eyes.

She was not like the rest. It's not that she had a special attitude towards you or anything like that, but at least she didn't seem to act like the other teachers and she treated you well. You liked her from the first time you saw her, but your depression and the trouble you started to get into had made you to forget your feelings. Now she had seen you hit your mates and that would lead to Weems, and Weems, to the sheriff.

“I…” You said, watching all the guys you hit get up.

It was too much. There was no longer any doubt that you were the murderer. You had just demonstrated your outrageous strength in front of them and a teacher. It was only a matter of time before they came for you, that they took you to the police station, that they sent you to jail or a mental hospital for lack of a better guilty. It was a small town, and you knew how small towns worked.

You were cornered and you had no other options. You had to run away, run away forever. You escaped from the courtyard and quickly went up the stairs. Luckily no one seemed interested in chasing you. You closed the door from the inside and after several minutes crying non-stop you got up and took your hand to the bottle of pills.

Live a miserable life or end it all. At that time you were looking at the pills with trembling hands. A creature like you couldn't be locked up in a jail or a mental institution. You would die slowly.

“Better now…” You sighed, opening the bottle.

The minutes pass and with them, the hours. You were not brave. Not even in the horrible situation you were in you could act. There was no light in your room anymore, it was night. It was weird that no one had come looking for you by then. You didn't think about that anymore, you just debated between life and death with a lost look and your thoughts wandering, as if your own mind was trying to distract you so you wouldn't make that horrible decision.

Just when you finally seemed determined to end it all, someone knocked at your door. Too late, they were already coming for you. You could transform, break the bars and run out the window, it would be easy. But your body stopped. You did not move from your position and the knocks on the door were repeated.

“(Y/N)? Open the door, please, It’s Miss Thornhill…” It was heard behind the armored door. You didn't expect that. It wasn't Larissa, it wasn't the sheriff, it was your botany teacher. You shook your head and put the bottle down on the table again, while hesitatingly you went to the door, turning the keys.

The redhead surprisingly seemed to be alone. She was holding a tray like the ones in the dining room and on her face there was a smile with a tenderness that you had never seen in that school.

“Hi honey, can I come in?” She said softly. You still suspected it was a trap and hesitated, leaning on the door.

“What do you want? Are you coming alone?” You asked, getting nervous again. She looked at you pityingly and shook her head, still smiling.

“I come alone, (Y/N). I was thinking that you would be hungry...” She said, moving the tray.

Your stomach rumbled at the sight of the dinner you had forgotten about and you seriously meditated for a few seconds. Marilyn hadn't acted like the rest of the people in Nevermore, she didn't seem like someone to run away from. After a few seconds, you decided to open the door all the way and let her in.

The redhead walked into your room and she gestured for you to sit on the bed. She sat next to you and put the food on your lap.

“Tell me the truth. Weems sends you to take me with her, right?” You said, starting to eat dinner. “I’m arrested, punished, or both…” She laughed.

“No, honey, you're not arrested…” She said, staring at you as you wolfed down your dinner. You stopped eating and frowned. You were a bit confused. It is true that she was different, but in the time you had been in Nevermore, she did nothing to get close to you.

“I don't believe it, you were there when I hit those boys…” You whispered, setting the tray aside. Marilyn agreed.

“Yes, I saw everything, that's precisely why you're not punished,” she replied.

“Sorry, but I don't understand…” You murmured, shaking your head.

“I've seen how they messed with you, (Y/N), I can't say that this was the right action, but surely anyone in your place would have defended themselves. Don't worry, Weems knows it and she's not going to do anything.”

“What? Why not? Everyone here thinks I'm a dangerous killing machine,” you said, surprised. Marilyn laughed again. Her attitude was one of the strangest for you, but her tone of voice reassured you, she gave you peace.

“Not all of them, (Y/N), I don't think so,” she said tenderly, caressing your cheek. Your body began to burn at the strange sensation of her hand against your skin. Surely your cheeks would have already given you away and would be red.

“Do you... Do you think I'm innocent?” You asked, astonished. You knew that she was normi, that she had no power. If there was anyone with real reason to fear you, it was her, someone who was completely unaware of this world of outcasts in which you lived. But quite the opposite, she seemed like she was the only one who believed you. Little by little the idea of the bottle of pills faded away.

“I don't think so, (Y/N), I'm sure,” the redhead said, removing her hand from your cheek and looking at you now with a melancholic air. “You will find it incredible, but I know what you feel, despite not being a creature as magnificent as you.”

You couldn't help but smile. No one had ever told you that dragons were magnificent. You were so moved that even tears came back to your eyes.

“Wow, you're the first to think that way,” you said in a whisper. She smiled again, but she took a breath to continue speaking.

“I know what it's like to feel alone, (Y/N). I lost my family when I was very young, and I have always lived between two worlds. I was always too odd for normies and not odd enough for outcasts. I have lived all my life in an isolated limbo.”

You listened to her story carefully. It had quite a few things in common with yours, even if it wasn't a scaly, fiery creature.

“I, I'm sorry,” you said feeling sorry for that woman, who seemed like the kindest person in Nevermore.

“Don't worry, I've gotten used to it. Listen to me, (Y/N), don't waste time with those wretches,” she told you, now looking at you fixedly, with a slightly darker tone. “They don't deserve your attention.”

“I don't want their attention, I want them to leave me alone, I haven't done anything to them…” You said, crossing her arms. Marilyn sighed and nodded.

“They, their nature is to hate the different ones and make an excuse that they are the ones who suffer hate. They are like that, honey.”

“So why am I not like that? Well, I mean, I'm one of them too,” you said, thinking of those words. You couldn't find a way to not agree with her.

“You have nothing to do with them. You are unique, they are hundreds. They are cowards, arrogant... But you shouldn't worry about them, do you hear me? They don't deserve you to cry for them... “ Marilyn said, a little closer, almost in a whisper.

You agreed. Perhaps you expected another type of speech, someone who told you that you were all the same or something like that. However, she also seemed to have been teased by Nevemore. How such a kind and innocent woman could feel this way made you realize that she was right. They were arrogant, they did not share they world, they did not let anyone who was different enter it, a different outcast and a normi seemed to be the cause of their problems. Old stories that your uncle used to tell came to your mind. How hate was able to transform people.

“In any case, (Y/N), even if it doesn't help, maybe you could stop by the conservatory some afternoon, and so you can talk to me about your problems and I'll talk to you about mine, is that okay with you?”

You smiled at the proposition. You were no longer alone and you were beginning to realize it. You could not fix everything, at least you could escape the black hole in which you lived for a moment.

The following weeks were somewhat different. Everyone in Nevemore continued to hate you, but little by little you began to ignore them, to contain your rage when someone pushed you or insulted you. It was partly thanks to Marilyn. You listened to her and after classes you began to visit her in the conservatory. You both talked, you laughed... It was a somewhat strange relationship, but it was a relationship. She wasn't afraid of you, she always told you so.

The small attraction you felt towards her intensified. You didn't know if it was because of the pity she showed you, out of pity, but she treated you well, she caressed you from time to time, she listened to you, she understood you...

“Blue moon?” You asked, while you watered the plants.

“Yes, it happens every many years and it sure is a sight worth seeing, don't you think?” Marilyn said, leaning on her desk.

“Maybe it is…” You said joking. She smiled.

“So? Shall we meet tonight in the woods? I promise you won't regret it,” the redhead said, getting a little closer to you.

You turned red, a night meeting, in the middle of nowhere. You knew there was chemistry between you, but your fantasies always stayed inside your room, they never came out. At that time many images were going through your head. Did she feel the same way about you? Or were you just two outcasts in a outcasts’ school? If you wanted to resolve those doubts, you should go to the woods that night.

“Um, okay… Tonight in the woods…” You said with a smile. She laughed and without expecting it, she gently kissed your cheek, leaving you paralyzed.

You left school when the moon shone with all its splendor. Somewhere howling was heard. Your stomach turned at the thought of your companions. Having someone to talk to, managed to bring out some hatred that you had generated towards all your classmates. You might think that hate was wrong, that it's the opposite of love, but Marilyn never said that. She always agreed with you. At first you found the way she talked about them shocking, but soon you enjoyed her cruel comments, always with that innocent smile.

There was no need for light in the woods, the moon was more than enough. You hadn't seen Marilyn, but you were very confident, you were convinced that she would show up.

The lake reflected the moon while you waited for… Your date? You had left early, so you were not in a hurry, you dedicated yourself to throwing stones and making them bounce in the water. Time passed little by little and your nerves began to send you warning signs. There was no sign of the redhead.

You sat on the cool grass, looking at your phone from time to time. No one showed up for an hour. Perhaps something had happened, but it seemed unlikely to you. That she would consider meeting you alone for the night as inappropriate was much more likely.

Sighing with great disappointment, you got up and brushed the grass off your clothes, heading back. A creak behind you stopped your steps. You looked up at the trees, which swayed in the wind.

“Marilyn?” You asked the air, without getting an answer. You weren't scared, you were always the one who scared others, but a chill ran down your back and your senses focused on a dark figure that, thanks to your vision, you could distinguish between the trees.

The wind sent signals to your fine ears. Unfamiliar growls could be made out in that same direction. You had no reason to run, but curiosity made you go closer to the trees. A black shadow pounced on you.

It was a monster. A monster with disproportionate claws and eyes. You fell to the ground in fright, looking at how that creature roared with satisfaction, raising its claws to attack you. Your reflexes acted in your favor, causing you to roll on the ground, escaping the claw.

“Shit!” You yelled, leaping to your feet as the monster roared at having missed. You became defensive, surrounding that creature, which kept stalking you, hitting you with claws from which you could miraculously escape.

Failing to attack you, the monster went into a rage, rushing back at you. This time you were able to get your claws out, grabbing his, sinking into the grass by the force that that dark being did. You couldn't think straight, the fury of that thing was inexhaustible. The image of that devastated hiker passed through your mind. You didn't take long to relate concepts. Surely that would be the monster responsible for those crimes.

Now it was clear to you, if you managed to defeat him, you could clear your name and put the constant visits from the sheriff and the blatant interrogations behind you.

“Okay, you horrible thing, you're going to do me a big favor…” You sighed when you felt how one of his claws scratched your skin, making a wound and tearing your clothes. “You wanted it.”

You took off the trench coat you always wore and began to gasp, your eyes beginning to glow dangerously. It was a clear, lonely place. You could see the lights of the academy, but no one would notice.

The monster stopped mugging you, it just looked at you curiously, while your clothes were torn. Your teeth grew, the scales on your skin turned red, and your body grew and grew. With a roar, you jumped, when, under the blue moon, a majestic red dragon appeared. Feeling like this was a relief for you. It had been too long since you felt that way. Your wings moved, keeping you in the air.

Like a wolf howling at the moon, you roared. You looked down, seeing the monster now as if it were a mere puppy.

With just one claw, you knocked that creature down, smashing it against a tree, which snapped, causing an even more sinister rumble that night.

The monster didn't seem to want to give up, and he stood up, snarling in fury. You went down to the ground, approaching that strange being with a roar, ready to do justice. His claws reached your chest, but immediately after, you grabbed that monster by the neck, lifting it off the ground. The creature roared in fury, digging its claws into your arm. You were going to squeeze that thing until it burst, but before you could, a voice appeared in the woods.

“Tyler, stop it!” It was Marilyn, who appeared among the trees. The monster stopped moving, stopped resisting.

You looked at the woman, surprised. The situation had turned absurd in a matter of a second. Marilyn was talking to that monster, while she was looking at you with admiration.

“(Y/N), do you hear me?” She asked, looking at you curiously. The shock made you paralyze, but you soon nodded, implying that you understood her. You were unable to speak while transformed, but you still had full consciousness.

“Please, let it go,” she said to you, with a somewhat fearful voice, and it was not for less, she was talking to a dragon.

You looked at that monster, which was hanging from your claws. Now it seemed harmless and questions began to appear in your mind from all possible places. Wanting a million answers, you set the monster down gently and began to relax, shrinking in size, gradually returning to your human form.

When you were in your normal form, you ran for your trench coat and quickly covered yourself with it, your gaze fixed on that creature, who was waiting patiently next to the redhead.

“What's going on? What... What is that thing?” You said, shivering with cold. Marilyn didn't seem nervous being around that monster and that was very disturbing.

“Calm down, (Y/N), it's harmless,” she told you, not answering any of your questions. You looked at that creature and then at the redhead, who looked at you satisfied. “You are incredible, (Y/N), a magnificent creature, just as I thought…”

After those words you shook your head, feeling dizzy from the transformation, but above all from the confusion.

“I... I don't understand anything...” You said again, with a hand over your eyes, making an effort to understand.

“Soon you'll understand, honey. Tyler, become human again,” she told the monster, which agreed immediately, reducing its size and transforming into a boy, more or less your age. He was staring at you with a half smile. “Please go get dressed right now.”

The boy looked at Marilyn and nodded again and went into the trees. The fact that he was naked went completely unnoticed by you. Marilyn looked at you curiously and moved closer to you, placing a hand on the wound that protruded from your chest.

“Are you okay, honey?” She asked with a tender but disturbing voice.

“It's just a scratch…” You said nervously, moving away from her touch.

“Well, scratch or not, it has to be healed…” She said, ignoring your desire to back off.

The boy appeared again, now dressed. You, who were waiting for the redhead's caresses on your chest, looked over her shoulder, keeping an eye on that mysterious boy.

“Oh, don't worry about Tyler…” Marilyn said, covering yourself well with your trench coat. “He does what I tell him.”

“I... I don't understand anything...” You said, overwhelmed by the circumstances.

“It's very simple, (Y/N). Tyler, come here,” Marilyn said. The boy moved automatically, like he was some kind of robot, getting right in front of you. “Shake hands with (Y/N), she has been a formidable rival for you, don't you think?”

Tyler reached out his hand for yours. You were suspicious, you had seen what that boy was, despite his angelic face. You shyly shook his hand and he smiled.

“I've never seen anything like this, you're very strong, (Y/N),” he told you with a soft, innocent voice.

You shook your head, speechless. You winced as your wounds began to demand your attention.

“Come with me, honey… Let's heal you to a place where we can talk. Tyler, you drive.”

You got into a car with the boy and Marilyn and after five minutes of traveling in complete silence, you arrived at an apparently abandoned house.

You didn't understand anything, but you followed the redhead into the building. It was a dilapidated house, but well preserved, especially one of the bedrooms on the upper floor. Marilyn sat you on the bed and caressed your cheek, studying your reactions. You were almost in shock, with a lost look. Tyler was also standing there, expressionless, looking at you.

“What are you doing there like an idiot? Go get the first-aid kit,” Marilyn ordered, pointing to the door.

“Yes, Laurel.”

You blinked at the way the boy called your teacher and you were finally able to react.

“Laurel?” You asked. She looked at you with a mischievous smile and nodded, sitting down next to you.

“It's a long story, (Y/N), but don't worry, I'm going to tell you…” She said, uncovering your wounded chest. You instinctively covered yourself and she smiled amused.

“Are you ashamed?” She asked jokingly. You nodded, realizing there was nothing under that coat. “You mustn't honey, you can trust me… The question is… Can I trust you?”

You were going to babble nonsense, but Tyler came back into the room with a white box.

“Wait outside,” Marilyn told him. He nodded, and giving you a strange smile, he left the room.

When it was just her and you, avoiding your defensive movements, she managed to take off your coat, slipping it off your shoulders.

“Be nice, will you?” The redhead said, pulling your hands away. You stopped fighting. That was so strange that not even your shame was able to outshine it.

“I don't understand anything…” You whispered, hissing in pain as Marilyn began to heal your wounds.

“Tyler is a Hyde,” she said dryly, glancing at you briefly. “A powerful creature that obeys the commands of a master.”

“A Hyde? Mrs. Frampton never told us about…”

“Oh, of course,” Marilyn said, laughing. “Those idiots never see beyond themselves. There are more Hyde in the world than dragons, but they prefer to mess with you, typical of the outcasts, harass the weakest.”

“You… You say that he obeys a master… You….”

“Yes, it's me. I managed to unlock it shortly after arriving at Nevermore. It's easy to do it if you know how,” she said without giving importance to the fact that she had a terrible monster under her orders.

You thought of each of the revelations. Monster, hiker, deaths. Soon some dark areas began to lighten in your mind.

“The hiker… So it was Tyler who…”

She nodded impassively, while she passed some bandages over your chest, wrapping the wound well. When she finished, she sighed and unexpectedly placed a brief kiss on your lips. If you hadn't been so confused and scared, you would have trembled at that unexpected act. You opened your mouth to say something, but found no words. It was all so surreal that you thought it was a dream, or a nightmare, a nightmare-dream, or something like that.

“Why?” You asked. Not even you were able to know if you were asking about the monster or about the kiss.

“Because I like you…” She said, amused, putting your coat back on. “You are beautiful and very strong...”

You blushed, but before falling captivated by her words, you shook your head.

“No, I don't mean… I mean… why a Hyde? What do you want it for?”

“Oh, my sweet girl... You're so innocent... I need it to get rid of all those Nevermore outcasts. You see, my name is not Marilyn Thornhill. My name is Laurel Gates,” you nodded with wide eyes, ignoring the first part of her words.

“Laurel Gates…” You repeated with a small voice. The name was not at all familiar to you.

“Yes. I’m the daughter of what was the most important family in Jericho, I descend directly from Joseph Crackstone, the founder of the town and well... This is my house, by the way.”

“Um…” You stammered, desperate because that information seemed irrelevant to you.

“My family had been fighting for centuries to end this scourge of outcasts, to purify the place where their children grew up, but unfortunately, those soulless beasts ended their lives. Nevermore and all his spawns killed my family, I was left alone.”

You now began to understand, not only what had happened that night, but also all the strange phrases that she said from time to time in your talks in the conservatory. Things about how bad your peers were, about the supremacist nature of outcasts.

“Them?” You asked. She nodded, her expression hardening for a moment, before smirking.

“But, it will soon be over, (Y/N),” she said, patting your legs. “My family was always one step behind them, I have… Another way of doing things, a little more… Supernatural one… Tyler is just a pathetic simple tool to get everything I need. And now is when my proposal comes, (Y/N).”

You nodded, understanding where the conversation was going.

“Tyler is a good slave, but when I saw you giving those wretches what they deserved… When I saw what you were capable of, I realized that I was completely wrong. You are stronger, smarter, faster, more powerful... And above all, you also want them to pay for everything they have done to you, I see it in your eyes, you hate them, (Y/N), just like me.”

“I… Well…” You stammered. You were suffering contempt, plunged into a depression that your new companions only made worse.

“They do that, (Y/N), they steal the little happiness you have, they leave you alone, isolated, without hope. It's their specialty, (Y/N),” Laurel said, with a sweet voice, trying to convince you that this crusade was the right thing to do, that they should disappear.

You remembered that fateful afternoon, the one you said goodbye to your family with the bottle of pills in your hand, about to do something crazy precisely because your colleagues refused to give you a chance, to see you as if you weren't someone dangerous, a murderer.

You had no reason to think that they deserved to live, that if you had done what you wanted, they would have won, they would have claimed your life and they would not have cared. In your murky thoughts, you imagined some kind of banquet or celebration after your death, like those medieval songs in which the monster was defeated and the village held an ostentatious banquet together with the defeated beast.

You didn't want that, now you could change history, be the one who won. It was a tempting idea, revenge, make everyone pay for their prejudices. You weren't a bad person, you would never hurt anyone. Throughout your life you had suffered because of the people around you, your parents died because of those people, like Marilyn's, or Laurel's.

“I… I don't know…” You said stammering. “I have never wanted to hurt anyone...”

“I know, my love, you are a good girl, you are not like them, but tell me, what did they for you? Only to suffer at the hands of those monsters...” Laurel said, approaching you, sitting down next to you again.

“I… It's probably just that…” You said, getting very nervous, looking for some excuse to prevent the idea from sounding better and better in your head.

“What, my precious girl? Do you think they deserve to live longer than you? Wouldn't they do the same with another person?” Laurel said, pouting. You had no answer for that. You were good, you knew it, just imaging a person with hope, with a little more joy in living, suffer the same contempt, the same sinking, the same descent into hell made you burn with rage.

“You, you're right…” You said, raising your head. Laurel smiled at you, but she didn't say anything, she just kissed you again, like she was somehow sealing some kind of contract.

“My love… Of course. Together you and me, we will be invincible... Good will triumph, you'll see...”

You nodded, growing disturbingly sure of what you were doing. You could taste revenge, you could take pleasure imagining all these outcasts paying for what they did to you, what they did to Laurel. You secretly loved her, she secretly loved you. Still not sure she wasn't using you, you hugged her, crying uncontrollably into her shoulder.

“Shhh, don't cry my love… Calm down,” she told you, caressing your head gently.

“I don't know if I should…” You sobbed. “Everyone believes that I killed the hikers…”

“That's okay, calm down...” She told you, sounding a little impatient. “Calm down, (Y/N),” she said more roughly, shaking you.

You were scared by that almost aggressive attitude, but you made an effort to remain calm.

“What…? What are we going to do?” You asked, controlling your crying. Laurel smiled, seeing how you finally relaxed.

“To begin with, we are going to get rid of two problems at once. As you know, Tyler has been doing me… favors…”

You stood pensive, thinking about how the monster certainly looked like the mysterious hiker killer.

“He is the murderer… You, you ordered him to…” You said in a very low voice, beginning to being scared.

“My love, everything I do, I do it for the greater good, I hope you understand that…” The redhead told you, cupping your face in her hands.

“Why do you have to kill people?” You asked, looking into those dark eyes that didn't look like your sweet teacher's.

“That doesn't matter, darling, they're just pawns in a bigger game…” She whispered, very close to your lips. You nodded, somewhat puzzled. “For now, let's get rid of that suspicion, Tyler!” She yelled, making the boy appear in the room instantly.

He looked at you and nodded, waiting for his mistress's command.

“Tyler, my good Hyde, are you willing to do your mistress a big favor?” The redhead asked, with a childish voice.

“Of course, whatever you want…” Tyler murmured, puffing out his chest, feeling proud of what he did.

“Well, I like it that way,” the redhead said, getting up and lightly caressing Tyler's cheek, which made you feel a little angry. “Listen carefully, because this will be my last order. You're going to confess to everything you've done, of course, without mentioning me. You will go to your father's police station, drenched in blood and say how much you enjoy murdering poor hikers.”

You listened carefully to those words. The real culprit would finally confess, freeing you from suspicion.

“Okay, what do I do next?” Tyler asked, with that disturbing angelic look on his face.

“Oh, well, nothing, just spending a few decades locked up in jail.”

You looked at her immediately. You only knew about Hyde's nature from what Laurel told you. It seemed to you that such a request was crazy, that no matter how slave he was, it couldn't seem like a good idea. You were wrong, the boy smiled and nodded, leaving the mansion.

“Now, honey, you must return to Nevermore before they miss you. Tomorrow will be a new day, the beginning of our new life, together.”

You obeyed, a little dizzy. Everything had happened very quickly, you had made too important and dangerous decisions, but a smile marked your face, your eyes shone with a different, evil shine. The end of your suffering was finally approaching, and that made you happy.

That night you didn't need medicine, you slept calmly, in peace. In the morning you noticed the first consequences of what happened the night before.

The looks of hatred and fear that your companions directed at you changed. Now they seemed to avoid looking you in the eye. A hand on your shoulder snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Um… (Y/N)…” It was Enid Sinclair, the gossip who advised everyone to stay away from you. You looked at her with a frown. Her face was embarrassed, apologetic. “I, I would like to apologize for… Well, for all the blog stuff…”

You crossed your arms. You thought about everything they had said about you, students and teachers. You thought about that afternoon when you were about to end your life, you remembered why you wanted to do it.

“Perfect,” you said, turning. She grabbed your wrist, preventing you from escaping from her.

“Uh, seriously, (Y/N), everyone here was shocked when the sheriff's son confessed… No one knows what to tell you, but everyone is very sorry.”

You laughed cheekily, a mocking laugh. Yes, they were sorry, just as if you had decided the path of surrender. Surely they would cry, they would wonder if they were really the culprits. It was ridiculous, an apology that, if you hadn't met Marilyn, you wouldn't have been able to hear. An uncontrolled rage seized you, imagining what it would be like to have left this life knowing that in the end, the real culprit was not you, how they would have won.

“Come on, don't be so dramatic…” Enid said, pretending to be joking. “Everything is cleared up now.”

Those words completely unhinged you.

“I’m dramatic? You are the ones who made life miserable for me. Did it amuse you to see me suffer? No Enid, I do not accept your apologies, neither yours, nor those of any of you. You think that making value judgments is your strong point, that you are the victims, that the rest of us are the executioners, but you are wrong, you are only an elite of weirdos pretending to be the masters of the universe,” you said, breathing with increasing difficulty .

“Eh, don't go too far,” Wednesday said, who was next to her.

“I'll do whatever I want!” You yelled, drawing the attention of the entire school, including Principal Weems, who hurried over to where you were.

“Ms. (Y / N), is something wrong?” She asked with a softer tone than usual.

“No, nothing's wrong,” you muttered, looking at her with hatred.

“(Y/N), I am very sorry for everything that has happened these last few weeks. All your classmates are looking forward to apologizing to you, and you should be nice and accept their apology.”

You laughed again, feeling how your scales were beginning to appear on your skin. There were only two ways to transform yourself: by wishing, or in a very important stressful situation, like that one.

“I don't have to accept apologies from the people who almost made me end my life…” You growled, with an increasingly guttural and deep voice. Larissa looked at you, shaking her head, and she started to freak out. “And you are the worst of all, looking at things with your own magnifying glass, pretending to be the destroyer of walls and barriers, the principal who pretends to be the liberator, the unifier of normies and outcasts. But it really doesn't give a shit to you. You just care about continuing to put money into your checking account without worrying about the welfare of the students or staff.

!(Y/N), you're playing with fire, calm down right now or…”

“Or what? Hey? What are you going to do to me? Lock myself in a room with electrified bars, call my uncle and say that even the great Larissa Weems couldn't beat me? You are just another outcast, arrogant and petulant like the rest of the people who live here.”

Your voice was already practically unrecognizable, you felt how the clothes imprisoned you, they felt much tighter. You knew what would happen in just 10 seconds, but the anger you felt didn't matter to you. Al hands until two warm hands landed on your shoulders. You recognized that perfume. Laurel.

“Hey, (Y/N), calm down…” she told you softly. You looked at her and closed your eyes. You knew what was going to happen but thanks to that interruption, you were able to stop yourself in time. The clothes stopped squeezing you and the scales disappeared. You blinked and shook your head, looking around the huddle of students that had formed.

“(Y/N)…” A terrified Larissa said.

“Don't worry, Larissa, I'll make sure she calms down…” Laurel said, with her Marilyn tone. The principal narrowed her eyes, but seeing that she somehow acted as a relaxing balm for you, she let you go with her.

Once in her room, she sat you on her bed and sighed.

“Are you okay? She asked her affectionately. You shook your head and started to sob.

“No, I'm not feeling well. Now they pretend to apologize to me, to pretend that they haven't done anything to me... It's... It's unbearable...”

She growled affectionately, pulling you into a tender, understanding hug. You hung on to her clothes, letting off steam.

“Calm down, darling, you shouldn't waste time and strength with those people... It's not worth it... It's only you and me that matters, remember? You and me.”

“I, I know but…” You said, being interrupted by a passionate kiss from the redhead.

“Do not fear for them, soon they will disappear and you will not have to worry anymore, honey... It's a matter of time... In the meantime, the only thing we can do... Is to love each other...”

After those disconcerting words, the kisses returned, this time wilder. Little by little you left, forgetting about your little crisis and giving yourself over to everything Laurel tried to offer you. Kisses, caresses, gasps that turned into moans, in the rubbing of your naked bodies, in words of love and victory, in a new dawn.

Every time she caresses you, your skin burned. When her fingers entered you, you seemed to freeze, forgetting your problems, regretting wanting to leave this world without feeling what it was like to be loved. The decision you made was difficult, it wasn't morally correct, but you knew you couldn't live without it, that little act of unbridled passion proved it to you. You could be much better than Tyler, you would be her lover, her slave, without the need for forced servitude, knowing that the only thing she had to dominate you was your heart in her hands.

#marilyn thornhill #marilyn thornhill x reader #wednesday #ms thornhill #oneshot #laurel gates

[hyperfixatedonstuff]

hello!! do you have any tf2 headcanons? i got neck-deep into this fixation without realizing and your scout fic in your pinned made me tear up just a bit- :')

i understand that fixation part so much😭 i’m out here rereading all the comics to write a drabble abt Zhanna bc i will NOT mischaracterize my girl! anyways i’m glad u liked the scout fic and since i don’t want this post to be 10 million words long i’ll do mainly Scout headcanons

Scout definitely took a year or two of Spanish in highschool and will respond to his team mates with “de nada” and “gracias” when they speak another language (german, french, russian, etc)

I headcanon that Pyro is strangely fluent in multiple languages as well but no one can understand them properly anyways

Heavy or Medic will make some rude or funny comment in Russian/German and Pyro will laugh along with them

At first they find it odd but I think Heavy in particular would really enjoy being understood in his native language even if he doesn’t understand ANY language Pyro speaks

I’m a big fan of Lesbian Miss Pauling! so when she tells Scout I see a few options: Scout will come out as trans fem a year or so later and ask her out again. or! Scout will have this huge moment of realization and apologize to her a ton, then try to become her wingman(both suck at talking to women).

Scout sees Medic and Heavy kiss once and then goes and asks Spy if gay people are real

Spy does all sorts of cheesy things for Scout’s mom and she loves it but makes fun of him so much

Scout is allergic to sooo many things but claims that if they eat them fast enough it won’t matter(cue lots of medic bay trips and a pissed off Medic)

Scout finally starts to crack Sniper’s tough guy loner mask and finds out he’s actually a huge ass loser

Spy HATES every love interest Scout has except for Miss Pauling but only because he knows they’re not gonna end up together

the only person Scout can beat in an arm wrestle is Spy and maybe Sniper

Scout and Medic go for runs together occasionally

Medic has to annually replace Spy’s lungs. He’s had all different kinds of fucked up animal lungs.

Scout learns best by actually doing something/practically applying it. if that makes sense

He’s also super good at literary analysis and character analysis but has trouble reading the actual words. He’ll listen to audiobooks instead sometimes but prefers comics.

Scout has probably accidentally called some of the mercs his brothers’ names and then got really embarrassed and ran away

Kinda random but Medic has and will brain scoop/ lobotomize people who saw him do something even mildly embarrassing

#tf2 #tf2 mercs #tf2 hcs #tf2 headcanons #tf2 scout #tf2 medic #tf2 heavy #tf2 spy #tf2 sniper #tf2 pyro

[forevfangirlwrites]

Hey, would you mind writing about percy’s openning night for his own coffee and annabeth being all proud and cute for the celebrity au please?? I love your writing soo much i think you’ve done such amazing stories and i admit to dream about this au every now and then because of how much i reread it lol 🌹❤️ (and i know you asked this ages ago but im the same person that sends promps with the flower if you even remember me lol, im just really shy and my first language isnt english so i get extra shy but i love your stories and i think about them a lott, anyway have a good day 🌹)

Nervous is an understatement. He feels like he might puke (which is not a good look on your first day) though if the feeling is stemming from relief or anxiety is still unclear. He’s been working towards this for so so long and now that it’s finally actually happening, it almost doesn’t feel real.

So much anticipation and build-up and now that everything is set-up, decorated and the moment has come, the place is empty.

(Though the place does look pretty despite the emptiness with about seven tables set up across the space that’s decorated in accents of different shades of blue and a lot of plants courtesy of Grover who had made up for not being at the opening by showing up a week early to help decorate).

Granted it’s only been a few minutes since they officially opened, and he can’t blame anyone other than himself for the lack of fanfare.

He hadn’t wanted Annabeth’s influence at the start, and though he trusts Miranda (the teen he’d hired as a barista/social media liaison) to promote it well, he’s wondering if he should have done more.

He’d posted on his own private insta account of course but that isn’t going to do much other than his mom commenting how proud she is.  Five minutes after opening without a customer isn’t that great.

“You got 40 likes on the insta post so far,” Miranda calls from her place further down the counter. She looks up from her phone. “You should pay to boost it so more people can see it.”

“You can do that?”

And suddenly he feels woefully unprepared for this whole thing. Maybe it would have been better to do the whole celebratory opening instead of quietly putting up an Open sign.

“I’m just gonna do it and you can add the amount to mu paycheck,” Miranda responds.

He has another brief panic of how he’s going to pay her paycheck if no one even comes in. Hoping his nervousness doesn’t show, he runs a towel down the already clean counter.

Percy’s always been a pretty confident person when it comes to work. He trusts his ability to pick up anything quickly and has a knack for finding odd jobs.

Hell, he had moved to California mostly on a whim and managed to do well at the time he worked at Cali’s.

And though he knows it’s this confidence in his work ability that had led him to opening up his own place, now that he’s here it really does feel a lot different than normal work. There’re more responsibilities. And even Miranda, who’s a part timer, depends on him to do well to get paid.

It’s all stuff he’s known this whole time but to actually feel that weight is different.

And even now, he knows he can handle it. If only he gets the chance, if only people actually start—

The sound of the bell on the door makes him start.

“Not bad Jackson.”

He tries to hide his astonishment as Clarisse and Chris walk in, hand in hand.

“It looks really cool Percy!” Chris echoes, eyes scanning the pretty decent sized space.

“Jackson you can’t look that dorky every time people come into your café, it’s bad customer service, close your mouth,” Clarisse drawls, rolling her eyes before looking up at the menu.

“Are we the first people?” Chris asks excitedly.

Percy smiles. “Well technically Annabeth was the first customer because she walked in with me when I officially opened and ordered a drink to claim her spot, but then she had to rush out for a call.”

Clarisse waves her hand. “Okay so girlfriend aside, we’re the first—”

The sound of the bell violently ringing interrupts their conversation as Jason Grace rushes in, clearly out of breath.

“Damn!” he swears, when he sees Chris and Clarisse on the counter. “And I definitely didn’t beat Annabeth, did I?” he asks, looking at Percy.

Percy can’t help but smile as he shakes his head.

Jason sighs, walking up to get in line behind Chris and Clarisse. “I hate Mark Edwards now,” he mumbles under his breath.

KEEP READING ON AO3

A/N: Thank you for the prompt! it's one I've actually been working on for a bit so you read my mind lol And of course I remember you! I really appreciate you sending in prompts even though English in not your first language! (Your English is amazing by the way so don't worry about that!) Thank you again for your support of the series ad I hope you like how it turned out!

#how to handle fame #actress annabeth #barista percy #hthf #percabeth #percabeth au #percabeth fic

[dreamsndmadness]

hellooo!!!(sorry in advance for all of the rambling)

first of all, im absolutely gushing from all of the soft moments in ch9: feyd nearly crying from being cared for, paul helping feyd with his nightmares, and feyd being protective/caring in both the breakfast scene and throughout the spice field inspections :333. It was all VERY adorable and paul finally being unhesitating about his sexual relationship with feyd and them communicating (both implicitly with paul reading feyds body language and explicitly with paul making feyd ask for what he wants), it's all very rewarding in general :)

Also, ive just been thinking nonstop about all the stuff going on with paul. so, my first theory about pauls exhaustion was because he was staying up because of feyds nightmares waking up but then i re-read it and saw paul was tired even before they shared a bed, and then i remembered that lack of sleep is a common symptom of pregnancy so thats my leading theory rn, that OR paul is staying up late reading lol. im also so interested in what paul and lady jessica are plotting, they mentioned controlling feyd and learning more about him in the beginning and then theres the date palm scene. I remember in the movies that date palms are definitely on arrakis so my first thought was that feyd was being a paranoid little freak about it but then i thought lady jessica might be trying to assess pauls health or something?? its safe to say im super hyped for the paul POV

sorry about the length and INCREDIBLY half formed theories

( •̀ - •́ ) ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

The wonderful bowl100!!

I love your questions ☺️. Omg yay!!! I’m so glad you liked the chapter. I always have a crisis of confidence when I post new chapters 🙃. Yesss. The softness. Feyd cutting the fruit and making sure Paul eats was one of my favorite moments from the chapter. It’s so hard to write moments of tenderness from him without it seeming out of character. And then he can never be honest with himself about why he’s doing things or why certain things are making him feel certain ways. Man. This guy. Feyd used his words FINALLY!!! And yes!! I’m so happy for Paul. Starting to enjoy himself. It’s so important.

Okee so here’s what I can say. You aren’t wrong about any of your guesses per say. It’s been such a joy to write from Paul’s pov because he’s a much more emotionally evolved person so I can write him being like “ah yes. This is making me feel this way!”. So one of the biggest reasons for Paul’s exhaustion is that he has been having dreams. Some of them good, some of them pretty disturbing. And yes, we will be seeing them in the next chapter. He is also (not really a spoiler cause it’s in the tags) pregnant! Another big reason! That’s going to be a plot point of the next chapter as well.

Lol the date palm scene!! You’re right on both counts. Feyd is being a paranoid little freak. He’s like “they are speaking in code!!” No you weirdo, they are talking about date palms. However, I am going to give him a little credit because he did pick up on the weird energy of the scene which is basically due to Jessica trying to draw Paul out of his funk. She’s worried about him and thinks he’s not doing well, and she’s trying to cheer him up and also trying to subtly (probably too subtly) signal to Feyd to do the same. Which he kinda gets! Cause he then invites Paul to come with him on inspection and Jessica is like “thank fucking god you are so fucking dense”. To Feyd. Not Paul. Paul can do no wrong in Jessica’s eyes lol.

Anyway! All of your theories were pretty spot on and perceptive!!! Sorry it took so long for me to respond 😔. I’ve been sick this week and it’s been a struggle. I have most of Paul’s chapter finished (it’s sitting at 5,500 words right now 😀). And I hope to edit and post tomorrow!!

Thank you as always for your lovely questions. I look at your wonderful art every day 🥹.

All the best 🫶.

#paul atreides #feyd rautha #paul x feyd #feydpaul #asks #my writing

[beautifulpersonpeach]

wait you are korean ?

***

It’s not something I advertise but yes. African too. Mostly fluent in the three biggest European languages but can read and understand Korean, Yoruba, Ewe, Hausa, and to a much smaller extent, Hebrew courtesy my sister-in-law. Since I’m already giving you my bio, Anon, I might as well add that I’m female, queer, and occasionally anti-America but always pro-murder-beheadings-sodomy-untold evil upon-Putin. And because I’ve gotten asks from people unsure how to address me re: my race, background, and culture, I don’t highlight my background often because (1) it’s often not relevant to the conversation, (2) I don’t want people sending me things to translate for them (the fandom already has many wonderful translators, please use them), and (3) …who actually does that? Just going around announcing what they are. Because I kid you not, I’ve actually gotten an ask from someone trying to pick apart my posts before to clarify whether I’m queer, Korean, Black, a woman… demanding that I assert and announce whether I’m any of those things. And that’s just weird.

I’m going on a bit of a tangent here but this just reminded me of something.

A couple months ago I got an ask from someone asking me to confirm something their ‘Korean oomf’ told them about jikook and Jimin. It was nonsense of course, but I didn’t say that at first. I instead asked that person for the source, to allow me speak to their ‘Korean oomf’ on Twitter. Just from the text and the way the grammar was written I could tell the person was a fraud. Scrolling back enough and cross-referencing their username confirmed it. They were a white person pretending to be a 22 year old Korean girl who knew someone that works in BigHit on Twitter. When I confirmed what they were for myself, I went back to the Tumblr person who sent the ask initially. I told them to avoid people who claim to be Korean telling them this or that, to instead stick with known ARMY translators (even solo stans have known legit translators who are actually Korean. At least I know PJMs and MYGs do so they have options too), and pay the most attention to what the members themselves say. They are very consistent. I’m saying this as someone who has seen a lot of idols - one thing about BTS is that all seven of them are very consistent. If you’re just noticing something about a member, I’d say you never really paid attention to them before. Anyway, in both their strengths and weaknesses, BTS are consistent, so listen to them and think for yourself rather than what some self-proclaimed Korean person on the internet is telling you.

I don’t write what I do here to convince anybody. But it’s not escaped my attention that, at least in jikook spaces, people place a premium on what Korean people think. On how k-jikookers feel, and that a good compliment here is to have a Korean joker acknowledge your blog, comment, or point. It stands to reason to some extent since Korean is very nuance-dependent and cultural cues and knowledge is important, but I also see how that deference is ripe for abuse. So, I’m not mad when people occasionally send me asks questioning why I write things or what I mean exactly though I think I’ve been clear, because it shows me people are still thinking critically about the media they consume. No matter who it’s from. I don’t respond because I don’t feel the need to defend myself to anybody, but I overall appreciate the sentiment behind that anon being questioning in the first place.

At the end of the day, I hope the strengths of my arguments can remain no matter my identity. And that we’re all spending more time actually having fun rather than engaging in tedious discourse.

Lol. Soapbox moment over. More fun asks please.

#small psa

[findmeabowlofundertale]

I’VE BEEN GETTING SUCH NICE TAGS ON MY ASK BLOG STUFF ueueueue

Florida has been an. Entire thing. So I haven’t really replied! But!! I appreciate all of them SO much! So while I can’t get to all of them, I’m replying to a few now! @benanazauce @angelbitezzz

(Sorry this is long, guys. Obviously you’re not obligated to respond to this or anything, the @s are just so you see this, if you want to.)

(In reference to this post) YEAH PONCHOS! Also THANK YOU, the sprites are tons of fun but a LOT of work bc I can’t just be satisfied with a set number of expressions, I keep making more/modifying existing ones, so now I’ve got like 100 just for Asteri. (Gaster has slightly less, but still an absolutely ridiculous number.) It’s amazing and hellish simultaneously. I really need to sit down and just streamline it, but… ugh. Maybe I will on the flight home tonight. But I’m really glad you like the sprites! I work hard on them! And I want to make them look even better.

(In response to this post) AJSJDJDNDJ YOU HONKED

Peak compliment, honestly. I thought it was pretty funny myself but I’m glad you found it “humerus” as well XD

Gaster framing it “as the kids say” like he’s never used the phrase “deal with it” before just to add onto the humor. He’s fun to make fun of because he either leans really hard into the joke and turns it back on you (like here, or the end of this post where Alphys makes fun of him for being old), or it’s a trauma button. (I love putting him in situations 💙)

Speaking of that post where Alphys makes fun of him for being old—

I’M GLAD THE POST WASN’T TOO LONG AUGH IT REALLY GOT AWAY FROM ME! But Gaster is just. So prone to long answers.

But yeeeessss they absolutely describe each other >:3c

And yeah I. Actually haven’t 100% decided how old Gaster is, mostly bc I don’t… have the entire timeline worked out yet 😅 So his age is ambiguous beyond “at least 300, probably more.” It’d be really freaking funny if he’s older than Gerson, but he’s probably not. But what better way to turn the joke around, eh? He and Alphys teasing each other is so important to me. Alphys deserves to have people she’s comfortable around~

(On this post.) SHE ABSOLUTELY COACHES HIM ON FLIRTING TECHNIQUES! At least once he admits to himself and possibly her that he has feelings for Asteri. That hasn’t happened in the canon of the fic yet but I decided that since the ask blog is for fun above anything else, we could pretend that both Gaster and Asteri have already started to recognize their feelings. (They’re just both oblivious to each other. That part is canon.)

AAAAAAAAA I got a lot of really positive response to this post!!! Yessss, unconditional love is a BIG part of Gaster’s character, and is associated with his integrity! He is so full of love for others that it— well, that’s a spoiler ;) But know that while— as I said way back whenever— this story is self-indulgent first and lore-accurate second and therefore ignores the existence of Deltarune and all the Gaster lore that goes with that, I have never been the same since I read this post by dimeadozencows, and it has majorly influenced how I write ⁂ Gaster.

Also, yes! I wrote that like that (semi-) intentionally! He lists these things he finds appealing in people, and then says “Like Asteri.” Technically he’s saying that “Just as Asteri likes [this thing I’m about to say], so do I,”but it does sound like he’s saying that all those things he finds himself drawn to are things he sees in her, doesn’t it? -u-

Regarding this post Thank you!! So happy you like hearing about her!! Yeah, Asteri’s a nerd for historical usages of language, and how it affects/affected social order and culture.

I also thought it’d be really freaking funny if she’s enamored with how Froggits talk bc it’s literally just “ribbit” (or, that’s what the game tells us, anyway… but more on the veracity of the game dialogue another time.)

Anyway AAAAAA thank you guys for all the nice tags!! I appreciate them immensely!! I will probably respond to them less frequently going forward, bc Life, but I always read them and they make me SO happy!!

#long post #seeker talks #replying to tags #my ask blog #⁂

[xxwhiskeyxx]

Welcome to the Barrel of Chaos

Hi, I’m Whiskey, I emerged from a barrel one day and decided to help fuel the addiction of some fanfic addicts like me, I don’t know what I’m doing half the time and I’m struggling to find time to write between work and school, so I do headcanons in between cause they fun and easy. Forgive me if my writing is shit, I don’t always beta read and Grammarly is my savior (but mine decides to stroke out a lot and not wanna work) I’ll try to come back and edit shit, but it might take a minute. Anyways love from the barrel so come get ya’ll juice whores <3

For request rules:

I’m comfortable with just about any, minus of the course the standard nothing sexual to do with kids & animals. I don’t do watersports (or vomit and shit), character death (most I'm comfortable with is near death experiences), full on SA, or torture. I might add more if someone requests something that makes me uncomfy but I’m willing to try to write anything to. I will add that if you do request something that does make me uncomfy, I will apologize but feel free to make another request and I’ll try to make it happen! 

Feel free to spam my ask box, I typically will respond pretty quickly if I have the time! I love answering questions and asks, I also will take requests here!

I also would like to add that as a plus-sized person, I am probably gonna make quite a few of these plus-sized/chubby reader for readers, dw I will make size-inclusive as well. But it is hard as shit to find the certain characters x Plus-sized reader on anything!

you can also find me on ao3, I post everything on both and usually at the same time so if you prefer ao3 over here then click da link

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxWhiskeyxX

Masterlist:

All Because I Fell: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

One-Shots: Swiss x Chubby Reader | Swiss x Aether 

Love Trope February: Enemies to Lovers | Suddenly Parents | Best Friends Sibling | Soulmates | Second Chances | Submissive Male | Only Soft with You | Friends to Lovers | Pretend Relationship | Plus Sized | Forced Proximity | Destined to be Together | Unexpected Bond | Childhood Friends to Lovers | Mutual Pining | Single Parent |  I Hate Everyone But You | Jealousy |  Sad Person falls for Someone that Helps them through Sad Times | Opposites Attract

Headcanons: Pronouns | Eyes/Dogs | Kink Boundaries/Some Trauma | Heights | Love Languages | Randoms #1 | Papa’s Heights | How Ghoul’s Sleep | Randoms #2 | Favorite Positions

Whiskey’s Nose Candy Fun: Mountain’s Problem with throwing people | The Ghouls Steal a Continental Breakfast

#ghost band #one shot #whiskeys headcannons #headcannons #All Because I Fell #whiskey's burbling barrel

[breannasfluff]

Hi!! I'm back, just sharing I read your last post on AO3 (the neighbor? Smth like that? The one with Bolson and Wild) and I like it a lot!! It's interesting hearing things from the perspective of a citizen (? I guess you could say) and in it It makes me wonder like, according to Bolson, Wild didn't even said hi but makes me wonder how much did wild showed Bolson but he didn't understood (cuz he ain't half feral but still) and other thing it's like, I love how Bolson was like: does anyone what's this wild feral child? No? Okey, he's my child now, like xd Bolson causally just stocking Wild up with fresher groceries and stuff, that's sweet of him (and also love how Wild trusts him too! Maybe Bolson didn't realize but letting him touch the slate?? Or also literally leaving the slate with him? That's such a sign of trust!) Anyway, I like it a lot (OH AND ALSO when Bolson gave him new clothes and Wild was so happy!! He is such a cutie) 🩷🩷🩷🩷

Ahhh you’re back! Hooray!! Yes, it was The Neighbor!

Bolson and Wild had such an interesting relationship! That was earlier in Wild’s journey; he slowly got better at interacting and responding to people (partially because of Bolson!)

Wild might have signaled a hello with body language! Or he might have marked Bolson out as “not a threat” and then promptly ignored him 😅

Bolson does take him in like his own chick, as far as he can. He’s impressed the kid bought the house and more than a little interested in the how and why. And then seeing Wild show up covered in monster blood periodically and nesting in a blanket on the floor, he felt like he had to step in for both of them.

Wild doesn’t mind, he’s gotten used to Bolson and it’s one of the few people labeled as “safe” at this point. His collection of people will expand, but here’s a Hylian who really cares less how he acts!

YES the slate was very much a sign of trust!!! Wild normally has a death grip on that thing and prying it away is impossible. It’s rare for him to share it with others. Bolson realized it a little, but probably not how deep Wild’s trust in him went. They are good boys ☺️

Wild deserves some comfy clothes! I’m sure Bolson is going to keep sneaking him other things too, and taking pride as Wild grows and learns.

Curious if you had a chance to read Time’s chapter of Ranch Ruins yet?

As always, thank you for the ask 💜💜

#asks #linked moments #the neighbor #my writing #Lu wild #botw

[wrestlingisfake]

Ultimate Warrior and ECW?

With all the speculation about CM Punk maybe going to TNA, I was reminded of the time the Ultimate Warrior had people wondering if he'd give ECW a try.

In August 1999, Warrior posted a lengthy article on his website, to address his future. Fans had spent the better part of a decade wondering wondering what he'd do next. He'd burned his bridges with the WWF in 1991, 1992, and 1996. Jumping to WCW seemed to make sense...until he actually went there in 1998 and flopped badly. ECW was a viable third option for most wrestlers, but Warrior wasn't exactly like "most wrestlers." Even now the idea of him in an ECW ring with guys like Taz and the Sandman seems insane, sort of like transplanting Drax the Destroyer into an episode of The Boys.

The original post on Warrior's website is long gone, of course, but luckily I dug up a copy from the Usenet group rec.sport.pro-wrestling. Unfortunately, I couldn't find Paul Heyman's initial reaction to the overture, but I'm certain it was along the lines of "I'd be happy to respond to him, if only I knew what the hell he said."

For posterity's sake, I thought I would paste Warrior's post here, below the cut. If you haven't read Warrior's writing before, trust me--everything he wrote was pretty much like this.

***

Hello. Warriors. Since my short note here at Warrior Web many mails have come in. 99.9% of them positive; the other .01%, warriors don’t concern themselves with.

My comment, “I'm back” has been misunderstood. Like to clear that up right now. I'm back here at Warrior Web. Feels great to be, and I’m planning to do so more regularly, but I’m not back in the ring or back out in the world of Prowrestling. I do, however, understand how that could have been misunderstood. The last time I put forth major effort here on Warrior Web, those efforts, happened to coincide with a return back to Prowrestling.

Since the topic of choice and curiosity, for a great deal of you, is Prowrestling let me make a couple of statements about the probabilities of possibilities and the impassibilities of impossibilities.

WCW

Often I get mail with language content that clearly reflects the writer isn’t aware that I appeared at WCW. For those who don’t know or aren’t sure, I did; in the latter part of ‘98. A year ago, almost to the day, I began what was a 6-month/2 PPV contract that expired 12/31/98.

“Why,” many ask, “aren’t you still there?” Of course, everyone else has expressed their opinion. And in this business most of those are built on quicksand -- nothing about them is concrete. The truth is that there is no leadership @ WCW. Something I did not know before I started my negotiations, suspected during, and later, after signing, came to find out all too clearly. Eric Bischoff is a personable enough guy. His intentions are in the right place, but his leadership skills are sadly, brutally lacking. I don’t believe, from what I saw, that there's any malice or sinisterness to personally destroy anyone’s career. My position on this differs from others. But, I do agree, he doesn’t, as I saw it, do much to propel one either. Frankly, he’s acted more like the chairman-elect of the WWF’s welcoming committee, as talent frequents there, than he has as the President of WCW.

There is absolutely no proper preparation for the television programming. At all. I’m sorry Eric, but making yourself unavailable all week because you say you “need to clear your mind,” and not returning calls at all, and scheduling a paltry hour and a half to two hour meeting just prior to airtime on Monday night with all the talent, each one vying for his own vague range-of-the-moment agenda, while, at the same time, vilifying the agenda of others is not proper preparation, in anyway shape or form. “Spontaneity”, as it was called, is altogether different than trying to fill a void.

What I was told I’d have and what my character needed -- to exploit it to it’s fullest potential -- necessitated thinking, and that was too difficult for some individuals there to do. Who, specifically, those individuals are, I intend to discuss at greater length later. (see note re: book below)

The real blame lies with the leader. The actions and behaviors of the troops are set by the general. [“An Example Set is an Example Followed.” Brought to you by Warrior Wisdom.] When the general runs and hides under the covers or dives in a foxhole, the troops follow suit. Who are they to say or do otherwise? Especially when the mailbox always has a regular-arriving check in it, and Turner’s pockets are viewed as an “ATM machine,” and anyone who wants to tinker with the system is forewarned, “Don’t f%#$ with the ATM machine.”

Truth is, many don’t want to be the best and that “ don’t have to be, why try to be?” atmosphere becomes increasingly demotivating. Many are, and want, to be floaters, perturbers, disturbers, or slackers. On the other hand, there are some truly good-intended individuals over there butting heads with that bulwark of complacency, but as a whole, intentions are far removed from activations.

I’m proud of what I brought to WCW. I spoke openly about the deliberate diversions and people didn’t like that. My first appearance, a face to face interview with Hogan, Beefcake and Bischoff was a launching pad like no other, if they’d just utilized it instead of telling me “We think, maybe, you stepped over the line, uh, possibly, and made comments” -- during that brilliant, well-thought out, well-planned interview we never expected -- “that were too personal.” Are you kidding me? Maybe guys, it’d be better if you just stopped at, “We think, maybe.” Then I’d understand. Then I’d get it. Shortly after, I heard the words “too cerebral” and “Warrior’s turning himself heel by acting like that…” Little droppings of sentiment seeded in the minds of others by Einstein himself, Professor of Scatology, Kevin Nash. Well, if that’s the opinion held by others, I strongly disagree. And when faced with the facts I intend to release one day soon, I’d say it’s a damn shame some didn’t engage their cerebral a bit more. Because ultimately, as the ratings in the marketplace now vividly show, it has cost the company, irretrievably, as a whole. I expect this will be denied and refuted. That’s why we keep some back. Besides, the evidence speaks for itself.

It’s really funny and sad at the same time. I just find it odd when someone who wants to be the best at everything he does or tries gets shunned for that very reason. Something is really wrong with that. Really.

WWF.

This will not happen.

Look, I know what I put up here at Warrior Web will find its way to a load of “.coms.” So, before I make any statements discussing the WWF, I want to let you know that, as a fan, supporter and endorser of my wrestling career, you deserve a more thorough explanation. That is impossible for me to do at this time. In the near future, I will. Nonetheless, recognize that if the following statements were not true to the degree which I claim, I’d be doing only myself harm.

For now, just let me say that three years ago, again, almost to the day, I filed a lawsuit against Titan Sports, Inc., Vince McMahon, Linda McMahon (the et.al.) Three months from today, on November 16th to be exact, my day in court will be had. Actually, it will begin; trial is set for two weeks. It is, also, inexpressible to relay, intelligibly, the scope of effort and breadth of information that has transferred, transmitted and transpired between the parties in the last 3 years. Only those who have lived it can know. It would take a book. A book I intend to write. A candid, divulging, unrestricted tome I will write myself that is unlike any other this industry has ever witnessed. Today, all I can say with assurance, without violating my own case’s rights, is that Titan has avoided facing the truth for the last three years by creating lie after lie after lie. And when that hasn’t worked they tried another. As my own counsel has said in recent documents to the court, "The best thing they (Titan) do is create fiction." They continue to do so even as we approach the doors into the Halls of Justice. It has taken three years just to unravel and demystify the subversion of their legal arguments and claims. And I’d like to thank my legal counsel -- Joseph, Shawn, Charles, Lorraine, DeAnn, Jo Lynn -- for doing so.

“Why haven’t we heard anything about it?”

U.C.I./Warrior vs Titan, et.al. hasn’t made the front page of any papers or nightly news or talk shows for a few reasons. First, it’s not sexually scandalous and doesn’t, thereby, increase circulation or television ratings. Yet, it is about decadence; the lies and deception of Titan’s outrageous and morally corrupt bad behavior on many levels. It’s about a historical practice of claiming -- Machiavellian-like -- total, absolute credit for any creativity, development, or success of any character that company has ever employed. It’s about egregiously claiming the sovereign rights and operations to an individual’s physical and intellectual abilities. Each of those autonomously created by a being none of us, in reality, knows, certainly not Vince McMahon and his company, Titan Sports. It’s about an abusive use of cold, calculated power over individuals who simply want to succeed. Often times, naively, at any price. It’s about continuing a callous witchhunt in hopes that others, under the natural apprehension and skepticism of a deposition done by the uncouth, will remark that you’ve acted humanly, and then taking that human fallibility, that we all have, and turn a life lived into a drama of inimical intrigue and villainous character assassinations and portrayals. It’s about unprofessional, unethical and totally disrespectful choices and actions by a company and it’s counsel that.t.t…Strike that. And that’s just the beginning.

Titan doesn’t want their public to know that the liars and lies in this story -- the testimony under oath -- aren’t playing or part of a role on television. These liars and lies are real, not actors and lines; not part of a storyline created for entertainment. Righting the wrongs committed against me, my reasons for fighting this battle are mine and mine alone. None of which have anything to do with public support, opinion or praise; beyond the listening eyes and seeing minds of a jury. Besides, calling a liar a liar and a lie a lie -- before having the evidence to prove it -- would have just been a claim easily denied and refuted by Titan saying three simple words, “That’s not true.” Oh, Titan will still say, “That’s not true”, but they know that, too, is not true, and moreover, not capable of being denied or refuted as the record shows.

I was wronged severely by Titan, Vince and Linda and it’s representatives in ‘96 and, now as we come to find out, ‘92, as well, and I’m righting that wrong in the clearest, most absolute way. Through the Justice system. In November, I will, after three years of Titan’s blatant conniving misinterpretations and twistings of words, get my opportunity for Justice, Vindication and Reparation. Even with the Reparation being in the multi-millions, Justice and Vindication have a priceless worth all their own. In front of a jury of 12 fellow members of society and a judge who acts, and guides, objectively and rationally -- one who dispenses with the chest-pounding histrionics and casuistries -- Titan will be held accountable for the breaches they’ve committed against me. Once and for all the book of my dealings with Titan Sports will be closed. The Book of Warrior will be open, the lesson I’m to teach will be taught and I will speak freely.

By the way, welcome back Bulldog. Glad to see you’ve resolved your difficulties personally, and those issues, past, with Titan professionally.

ECW.

Many of you have written and asked, “What about ECW?”

So, let me answer that question like this. I think you’ll like it. Those who think will get it.

First, congratulations on your recent TV deal.

Now, I don’t believe I’ve ever met Paul Heyman. If I have, I don’t remember doing so. I only know him by what he’s accomplished and done and by what others have said of him. Also, I’ve never watched ECW. But, that in itself, doesn’t mean anything. I don’t watch or read about the sport at all -- that’s right, none -- unless, of course, I'm participating in it and by association see or talk or read something about it. I do know, from what I’ve heard, that he does wild things, creatively, with his promotion, or rather, he has talent that will do wild, outrageous, extreme things. Hence, Extreme Championship Wrestling. (Oh Warrior, you are so clever.) I suppose the overall wild nature of those wild ideas comes primarily from Mr. Heyman, ECW’s leader. And I will say that I, or anybody else for that matter, could do nothing but admire the risks some guys will take in this business. For example, look at Mick Foley. What he does with his body and well-being is unbelievable and must be respected on a level 99% of us in this business will never comprehend. Point is, I’ve heard that most of the ECW talent conducts themselves in a similar fashion and command, in my book, similar respect.

It goes without saying that if I’ve never met Paul Heyman, then he’s never met me. And, like I know him, he would know me, by word of mouth -- other people’s mouths. In this business, a story of guy picking his nose becomes a story about a guy who wants to pick a fight before the story makes it halfway across the locker room. Point being, we don’t -- can’t -- know one another from the mouths of others.

So let me introduce myself. My name is Warrior, not Jim Hellwig. If that bothers you, that’s your problem, not mine. I say that because people who know I’ve changed my name seem to very often have a problem with referring to me by my name. Again, their problem. I’m a stand up guy. I don’t wrong others, and I don’t want to be wronged myself. I’m a straight shooter in my talk and actions, and I expect the same. If I make a commitment in return for one I expect, I will fulfill mine if I get the one I expect. I don’t work others outside the ring, I expect the same. I’ve acquired a reputation in this business, as no doubt you have. I know of it. I heard it from another’s mouth, as you, more than likely have heard of mine. Mine, misinterpreted as being a guy who’s difficult, comes, truthfully, from being a guy who stands up and speaks out and takes action when he’s been wronged, or even when others have been wronged (ask around). The true one -- it’s one I’m proud to have.

I created, portray, perform and own one of the -- if not the -- most intense colorful, motivating, energizing personas in the wrestling industry. You can disagree, but you can’t convince me otherwise. That persona is recognized all over the world. Beneath the facade and the face paint, I am an astute, always “never too smart to learn” businessman who handles the business of Ultimate Creations, Inc., a multitude of projects, all of them Warrior related. Each of them potential moneymakers beyond the ring and all over the world. I have many interests and talents, only but one of them is the aforementioned Warrior as a Sports Entertainer, Prowrestler. I make no apologies for extending my business interests beyond the ring. Those put off by it are the ones with the problem, not me. I am a gracious supporter and endorser of other talented individuals. Those who know me well will tell you I’ve not a jealous, envious or insecure bone in my body, but I will challenge you to be the best you can be, and I expect the same. And if you are one to give less than one beat away from a heart attack in effort and intensity I’ll tell you so. I don’t enjoy being around floaters or slackers. I enjoy working with individuals who want to be the best and give the time and effort to be so.

Different than other mouthpieces express, I don’t have a “put you off” ego. I have an ego with the power to elevate and intensify others to their highest potential, an ego that solidifies a team; and if that “puts you off”, your own confidence and self-esteem is lacking, and that’s your problem, not mine.

To a newly televised, creatively charged iconoclastic wrestling organization such as ECW, a powerhouse character and marketing property like the inveterate Warrior could be the ultimate juggernaut to “leap tall buildings in a single bound” (jump past WCW post haste) and race “faster than a speeding bullet” (hot, hot on the trail of WWF). I am an extremely creative, energizing person. I’m not afraid to possibly take, creatively done, never before switching risks.

Let me end by saying, I don’t do normal deals and I don’t sign generic contracts. In addition, I’ve fought too hard for all my character’s rights to ever -- ever -- even consider, at any price, giving them up. Good Senses in your future endeavors. Bob Ryder has my number. Always Believe, Warrior.

Stay tuned Warriors. More to come by mid-week. Find out what the Warriorman’s been up to and what’s coming here at Warrior Web (a facelift is coming) and beyond. Let's get beyond the updates and get on to the warriorating power of making the most out of our lifes! Find out about Team Warrior, Project Warrior, Book of Warrior (BOW) and what other one-of-a-kind Warrior projects are going to be happening very soon. F-e-e-l the Power!

Always Believe. Man, you have to Always Believe. Warriorman ouuta here for now.

#ultimate warrior #jim hellwig #ecw #extreme championship wrestling

[vaveyard]

I'm the anon from Portugal who asked if americans really ask each other "what are you". I did not think my question would cause so many problems, so I wanted to explain. I saw many people tell you about other websites and in fact that day I was directed (?) to your blog from another site where we discuss authors behaving badly. We were talking about how some authors use their ancestry as a "pass" for bad representation and spreading stereotypes, someone mentioned you and posted screen shots of your tiktoks and comments where you say you're Italian even though you're not, so I got curious and checked your blog and after reading some posts (which were already asking you about your nationality) I asked a question. Just that one. You can blame it all on me I just think it's a strange thing to do.

People told me to check your blog in the past days as well because of the various questions you received and how your fans reacted all blaming me but I was too busy. Now I've got some time and I wanted to clear things.

This whole situation looks very silly to me but some fans have found some portuguese book blogs and were very nasty in the comment sections and have accuses the bloggers of harassment because they think they're me. This whole situation started because I sent 1 anonymous question. I don't think I was aggressive, I was just confused and curious in my question. In your answers to those anons there is also people accusing them of "being caught lying" (idk if it's the right terms, I can't remember) because they're secretly all... me? Or how you said "shooting off a bunch of anons at once it's stupid" when you answered my question. I don't understand.

Anyway the whole thing is making me feel very bad and guilty so I'm trying to understand what to do because other people are being harassed because of me and I don't understand why

I can message you directly (so without anon) if it makes you feel better, so you can see my blog name and block me? That way you will know that next time it's not me sending questions. Knowing your fans I am too afraid to send this ask off anon now, but in DM I can share my blog name.

I have only ever sent you 1 question. This is my second one ever. And other book bloggers have nothing to do with it.

Sorry if parts of this are not very understandable I'm just a bit agitated by the whole situation and not making much sense, english isn't my language so it's extra difficult to explain

Please remember that as a public figure you have power over readers and what you say against someone can have a bad affect on many people

I'll repost the answer I gave you on your previous DM, in which you did say I was "lying about my nationality" and "pretending to be European." There was also something about Americans pretending "Murica" is the best country on earth but then saying they're from somewhere else. I don't know what your intention was in couching your question that way, or what tone you wanted to impart, but it certainly didn't come off as pure confusion or curiosity.

My response to your ask: "Hon, I think the disconnect here is the way white Americans talk about heritage. I’m a white American, that’s obvious, no one is asking me whether or not I’m white. They’re asking about my background. We’ve gone over this."

I then said: "Why keep asking the same questions if you’re going to keep ignoring my answers? And again, shooting off a bunch of anons at once is pretty silly."

I received several messages (with varying degrees of rudeness) about my background as well as a message saying I was going to look like a fat cow on my wedding day all at the same time. Your was in the middle of that grouping. So you can understand why it seemed to all be coming from the same or an organized source? And, this is the internet. I'm responding to anonymous comments. I truly have no way of knowing where things are coming from for sure, or if anyone is who they claim to be. I have to use simple logic here.

I really don't know whats going on outside whatever notifications I get on my own tumblr, so I can't speak to what's happening on other blogs in other languages. No one has ever linked me to anything or given me a website to check. I certainly don't want anyone bothering anyone else on my behalf. I've said that in the past and that's also just...obvious. I also don't think I have very vocal fans, in my experience, but that's just my perception.

In regards to Tumblr specifically, I don't think someone else's reblog or reply to an anonymous message I received and answered is fair to ascribe to me. The only way I can respond to an anon is to post it publicly. So unfortunately, that makes it fair game for other Tumblr users by nature of the message? I can't change the structure of Tumblr. And I can't control how someone else on Tumblr responds to my anons. I can only control how I respond. The only other option I see to stop "accusers" responding to what my anons send is for me to not respond to anons entirely. And I don't think that's fair either. I really don't know what is desired of me here.

I do agree, the situation is very silly. And I also agree, what I say can have an effect on others. I do ask that people on the other side of the inbox remember that too. The messages sent to creators, anonymous or otherwise, are not without weight either.

#ask