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wood-white-writer · 7 months

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“Didn’t mean to make your heart Blue” || [1/…]

- OPLA!Buggy x F!Reader

“So, I don’t blame you if you want to bury me in your memories,”

— Mitski, "Goodbye, My Danish Sweetheart"

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live Action) x F!Reader

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends. Years have passed since you last saw Buggy following the dispute that you thought ended your friendship. When you finally reunite with the blue-haired menace you once considered your closest friend, it’s under less than “friendly” circumstances.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Canon Typical Violence, Slight Canon Divergence, Buggy is an asshole, The reader used to go by "Cross-Hairs" in the past.

A/N: I’m basing this primarily on the LA! version of “One Piece”, as I’ve just recently begun to watch the Anime.

Luffy, for his unyielding devotion towards his dreams of becoming the King of Pirates, evidently lacks the sense of foresight required of a pirate to successfully navigate the seven seas. Then again, it's nothing new.

You’ve always known. The kid's been a hazard to society even in his youth; no filter between his brain and his mouth despite the ungodly amount of food he pushes between his jaws. You used to watch him make his proclamations in front of Shanks' merry band with little more than vaguely piqued interest, indifferent to the youthful albeit naive optimism he exhibited.

Shanks, meanwhile, always used to find his demeanor endearing - “He’s a good kid. Let him dream,”

And so you let him. You watched him dream for the next ten years, making sure that his dreams didn't catch the wrong kind of attention until he was old enough to hold his own weight.

However, back then, Luffy's actions seldom warranted any real consequences. Save for the incident with the Bandit and the Sea King, he's rarely been in any real danger prior to his debut as a pirate.

An unruly child spouting declarations of desiring to become the next “King of Pirates” hardly would’ve caused more of a ripple effect than to make other people shake their heads and laugh. And if it did, you were there to make sure it didn’t.

Now, not only has his actions earned you the ire of the Marines by stealing the Map of the Grand Line, but it has also garnered the attention of other opponents. Far more dangerous ones than the likes of Alvida or even that Axe-Hand Moron.

It was only a matter of time.

So when you find yourself waking up in a wooden cage with the rest of your reluctant crew mates, accompanied by a head-throbbing headache at that, your first instinct is to heave an exasperated sigh.

"Goddamn it."

"Oh, you're up." It's Luffy. He looks unharmed, albeit disoriented, not too unlike yourself. "How're you feeling?"

"Like I just snorted a bottle of rum through my nostrils." You get up into a crouching position, eying your surroundings, which doesn't leave much up for inspection considering your cage consists of broad wide planks. "What the fuck happened?"

The last thing you recall before being knocked out was a Jolly Roger in the distance, too far away for you to make out properly. So, not Marines, but pirates.

You can't tell if that's a good or a bad thing.

"Think we wouldn't have told you if we knew?" The swordsman - Zoro - replies with a deadpan look of boredom on his face as he attempts to peek through the cracks in your confinement. You have half a mind to tell him where to shove it but opt for a more quiet approach.

It's during moments like these when you realize you actually miss that scrawny pink-haired kid with the glasses - Koby. He never spoke to you like this. Granted, he was probably intimidated by the way you were always hovering behind Luffy like a silent guardian, but he didn't provide unnecessary comments like Bounty Hunter over there does.

Small blessings and all that. Very small.

You provide a solid kick to the plank on Zoro's right side without warning, catching him off-guard and earning you a short-lived glare. The planks loosen considerably, probably not meant to contain you for long.

Meanwhile, you listen half-heartedly to Luffy and Nami as they discuss the potential identities of your captors.

"They're not marines," Luffy assures her. "Before I got knocked out, I saw a Jolly Roger. We've been captured by pirates."

You glance at him from over your shoulder. "What'd it look like?"

"I don't know, it looked ... like ..." he pauses in thought. "A skull with crossbones, and a red ... dot? It almost looked like a nose, if bones could have noses, but they don't."

The blood in your veins freezes up, as does the rest of your body until their voices blur into nothing.

You've been keeping occasional track of him in the years that's passed since you parted ways, and when he amounted to a considerable bounty on his head, his signature Jolly Roger was hard not to miss on his wanted posters.

-------

"I didn't know there were so many pirates."

You tilt your head at the wall decorated with various wanted posters of different pirates, some more torn and discoloured than others, some more dead than others. You can't find your own amongst them in Shells Town, but then again, it has been some time since last you were on the Marines' radar. More likely than not, your poster is hidden somewhere underneath the several layers of—

"Hey, there's yours!" Luffy damn-near exclaims in wonder and points at— Oh yeah, there it is, right above Foxy's poster, a little yellow around the edges but still holding strong.

WANTED Dead or Alive "Cross-Hairs" 25,000,000

"Oh, wow, a 25-million bounty. That's a lot of berries."

The image is well over a decade old, taken back in your early twenties, and you were much more easy to identify back then. You were sharper in some angles, softer in others, compared to the present.

You look different now. Less robust, a little older, but no less dangerous in the grand scheme of things. Your sharp eyes remain the same, a trait Gol D. used to remark upon with a mischievous glimmer in his own eyes.

"You have eyes sharp enough to cut through steele," he'd say and ruffle your hair. A sense of loss perforating your being at the memory.

Despite being in your thirties, age tends to alter the appearance of most people, and you consider that a pretty good advantage right about now as you're standing surrounded by an army of Marine officers. Given the fact that you've spent the last couple of years away from the sea without a trace or clue, the World Government probably assumes you've died or gone into hiding.

Be that as it may, they didn't even bother to decrease the bounty since last time. How odd.

While Luffy spends a few moments admiring your old picture like a child that just learned their relative is some kind of famous celebrity, Koby is less than enthralled by this revelation.

"T-That's one of the highest bounties in the East-Blue." He is hesitant to look up at you. "What did ... What did you do to earn it?"

"A little here, a little there. Kicked a few asses, stole a bit of treasure along the way. Nothing too bad." You admit with a half-assed shrug as you continue to inspect the various posters.

For the boy's peace of mind, you won't go into the less ... child-friendly details regarding your reputation. About the way you used to fight to the blood with most of your opponents, Marines and pirates in equal measure. How you'd stand victorious atop a pile of broken limbs and pleading sounds from the defeated crowd.

"Yeah, yeah ..." Koby agrees with a feeble nod. "There are way worse pirates on the Grand Line."

Your gaze happens upon a particular wanted poster, and your demeanor stiffens. Not enough to notice from an ordinary point of view, but it does nonetheless.

His sharp cerulean eyes and bright red nose seem to mock you from his picture, and a heavy feeling settles in your heart. A feeling of hurt and betrayal you've long since thought abandoned in the corners of your heart. Not even the loss of your old captain could hope to compare to it

You snap back to Luffy, your voice a little strained as you speak though you desperately try to cover it up. "Are we done here, Luffy?"

------

It's your fucking luck it had to be him of all people to come after Luffy first.

Why him?

Fuuuuuu—

"We don't need to fight." Luffy's voice snaps you back to the present. "I can talk to them, pirate to pirate."

"Not with this one," you whisper more to yourself than anyone else. The only one who seems to catch onto this is Zoro, but the moment he opens his mouth to ask, Nami beats him to it.

A discussion regarding the duality of piracy quickly causes you to lose all interest in the following sequence.

You don't trust either the thief or the bounty hunter as far as you can throw them, and the feeling is mutual in both parts. Sure, they proved useful in getting rid of the Axe-Hand, and have had thus far been tolerable enough for you not to throw them overboard.

Still, Zoro recognized you on the spot where the Marines failed to, and though Nami doesn't, your status as a pirate is enough reason for her to distrust you.

As mentioned, you don't trust them, but Luffy does, and his lead is the only one you'll follow. This is his voyage, and you’re not here to keep him from making mistakes unless you consider them particularly vital. If this bites him in the end, then you'll be there to keep him afloat.

After all, you made a promise to your old red-haired friend.

"Look after the lad for me, will you? Help him achieve his dream."

With no patience left to wait to get the fuck out of here as quickly as possible, you prepare to kick through the planks. Just then, the top piece of your confinements unfold, and what you're greeted with is the pinpoint definiton of a fever dream on acid.

Tightrope walkers swinging in the air, acrobatics performing acts of impressive feats, someone fire-breathing, and-- was that a guy juggling on a unicycle passing you just now?

A circus troupe. You've been captured by a fucking circus troupe.

"Oh, what the actual fuck?" Is all you can manage to mutter, a sentiment Zoro surprisingly agrees with if the nod he adds serves as any indication.

The troupe has an audience, you come to observe in the distance. They're clapping and cheering on cue with the sign being held in the air, yet they look ... wrong. Forced. Puppets with strings embedded in their limbs, so to speak.

You narrow your eyes in distaste at the view. The hell has he been up to as of late?

In the midst of the enforced round of applause, a voice gradually makes itself more and more prominent through the masses. Deeper and huskier since last you heard it, but yet painfully known to your ears.

"No, no, no, NO! Stop clapping!"

And then he appears. The ringleader himself, exasperated as he throws his arms out to each side and effectively silencing the crowd.

"No, stop! This is all wrong!"

You momentarily forget to breathe as you watch him come into view from behind the audience. He's taller than the last you saw him, that's for damn certain. Must've hit a second growth spurt in your absence because, while you were relatively on equal foot in your youth, he now seems to have grown a head or so taller than yourself.

And like yourself, he's changed, and not inherently for the better. It's a relative statement considering that the life of a pirate is oftentimes a hard one, but it's a fact nonetheless. The years have not been any kinder to him than they've been for yourself. He still has the same hair, the same general appearance, but he's changed.

Out of the three of you, Shanks seems to have had it the easiest in recent years, appearance-wise. He never lost his smile or affinity for the brighter things in life, even when he had his damn arm chewed off.

Meanwhile, you lost your dreams, and he seems to have lost everything you recognized about him in your youth. His smile, his laughter, and even his stance had been replaced by some replica that fails to hold a candle to the original one.

This is a show master, not your friend. Then again, you haven't been friends for a long time now.

Still, changed as he may be from an outward point of view, Buggy's eyes have not. They're clear like the seas, just as they were long ago. (And his nose, of course. How could you forget?).

You can't tell if that's a relief yet.

You're not a fearful person by nature, having lost the distinct ability years ago. Now, however, you feel the tremors vibrating through your ribcage at the sight of him. That's why you decide to turn your face slightly to the side for now, hoping to prolong the inevitable.

Fortunately, your presence evades Buggy's notice for just a while longer as he berates his crew. "The spotlight was late! You completely missed my entrance!"

The sound of said spotlight changing its focus can be heard.

"And where, oh where, was the dancing lion?"

Good! While he's occupied, maybe you can find the right moment to grab Luffy and get the hell--

"Hey! I know you! I saw your wanted poster in Shells Town!"

... You want to dig a hole in the sand and bury yourself right about now.

"You're the clown guy! Uhm ... Binky, right?"

Buggy, you scream inside as you suppress the urge to yank Luffy by the shoulders and shake him until all of his limbs drop down on the ground. Fuck Shanks and fuck the promise. He's Buggy the fucking Clown, and you did not have to go out of your way to pinpoint that fact!

In your internal state of dismay, you settle with trying to locate potential escape routes. Maybe a hole in the walls of the tent, or an absent-minded guard by the entrance. You're stronger than most, with years of experience behind you, but you're not capable of fighting your way through a crowd with three tagalongs so seamlessly.

"Buggy," the man of the hour states as he approaches, still having failed to notice you. "Buggy the Clown."

No one says anything, which he takes as a sign to continue on with - what you personally regard - as a moronic long line of titles.

"Buggy, the Flashy Fool." Still nothing. He raises his arms, like a lost puppy begging for scraps of recognition. "Buggy, the Genius Jester."

Seriously, what's with him and all the names? He’s always been … overdramatic, but this cuts the cake even for him.

"Wow," Luffy seems genuinely impressed, a stark contrast to his companions, who would rather be anywhere than here. "You have a lot of names. I bet everyone in the East Blue knows who you are."

A range of gasps echo from the unwilling audience, and you finally snap your head to the front in alarm. Fuck, he couldn't have used a better word than that. Granted, Luffy didn't mean it in that context, or even that word, but it doesn't matter.

Another thing that hasn't changed about Buggy... And that very same thing might as well be what snaps him out of his theatric act.

You thought Buggy finally would've noticed you by now, seeing it as you're finally willing to face him, but his eyes remain eerily glued to the kid.

"What did you just say?" Buggy asks, calmly.

Way too calmly for your liking.

Oh, no.

Luffy blinks in confusion. "Just that everyone knows who you are?"

You notice the clown lunging before Luffy does.

In the span of a second, you plant yourself between them, the only barrier between him and the clown's rage. You don't move an inch even as Buggy closes in with his gloved hand outstretched towards the boy, having not yet registered your sudden appearance until his fingers are inches from your face.

Your eyes finally lock, the blue in his eyes more prominent now than ever. Almost two decades since the last time you saw each other, and Buggy ceases his attempted assault as though time itself freezes.

At first, there is nothing in his eyes but surprise. Anger. Maybe even a trace of admiration towards the one who dared stand against him. Hot and burning beneath his irises, like glowing embers left behind in a dying pyre.

Finally, there is recognition, and the fire reignites warmer and scorching more than ever before.

He doesn't say anything at first, and neither do you, but the glare in your eyes conveys the message loudly enough that even the performers and troupe members alike know not to interfere.

"Leave him be."

You think of what to say, what you can say, after years of being silent. A simple “Hi” will not suffice, and considering the way of which you parted, there is little room for confessions.

Then, Buggy begins to laugh.

It starts out as a whisper of a chuckle, then gradually develops until he's full-out holding his stomach in wheezes, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes and smudging his make-up.

He points his arm up as he tries to contain himself, and the guy holding the APPLAUSE-sign picks up on the subliminal message. Everyone in the place begins to laugh, both the captives and the captors, so loudly this time that it makes you feel small in a way you haven’t felt since you were a child.

You glance cautiously around yourself, sharing brief looks with your companions before the noises abruptly stop, having most likely been forced to do so.

When you look back at Buggy again, he's smiling wider than ever, but his eyes hold no genuine humor. No, there's an unidentifiable emotion swirling in the depths of his blue eyes that you fail to decipher before he speaks.

"Well, well, well! Isn't this an unexpected surprise?" He raises his arm to gesture to you, as if you're an exotic exhibition behind a display case for everyone to behold. The spotlight is now aimed at you, momentarily blinding your vision.

"Ladies and gentlemen! It is my honor to present to you, the one and only, the myth, the legendary 'Cross-Hairs'! The Beast of the East!"

Applause rings again in the air as Buggy continues.

"She was famous throughout all of East Blue for her many endeavors, with a bounty greater than even yours flashy truly." Admitting that fact looks like it physically hurt him, but he prevails. "And then, almost ten years ago, after her biggest heist yet, she just POOFS!" He snaps his fingers and lets them slowly decline for dramatic effect. "Vanishes out of the blue. Leaving the seas for an unforeseen amount of time."

It would seem like you were keeping track of each other all along.

The next words Buggy utters are so hushed that only you hear them, and his smile is gone.

"Then again, you do have a track-record of leaving things behind, haven’t you?"

Oh, the fucking nerve of this guy. You take a step forward, clenching and unclenching you jaw so much your teeth feel on the bring of cracking. How dare he? How fucking dare he?

You’re about to shout back at him, argue, throwing every caution to the wind just to correct him and scream:

("You're the one who left me, remember?")

Before you can, something taps your right shoulder. Thinking it's Luffy, you turn around, and the last thing you recall before it all fades to black is an air of red dust clouding your vision.

#buggy the clown #buggy one piece #one piece live action #one piece x reader #buggy x reader #buggy the clown fanfiction #buggy the clown imagine #buggy the clown x reader #one piece #buggy x you #buggy x female reader #buggy #buggy live action #captain buggy #one piece fanfiction #one piece buggy

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the-ace-with-spades · 9 months

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The year is 1995 and Mav disappears off radars on a mission overseas. He's declared MIA and then when satellite pictures of an F-14's wreck show up, declared KIA.

It's a hot August evening when Ice opens his front doors to see a Navy officer with a precisely folded flag in his arms and a JAG lawyer with a suitcase full of documents. Baby Goose should be already sleeping upstairs, preparing for their planned camping trip the day after.

Ice lets them in without a word.

They walk past the living room where Ice had been checking their tent for rust, straight to the kitchen table. They don't sit down.

"On behalf of the President of the United States, the United States Navy—"

"Spare me the bullshit."

He's still holding the flag, letter on top of it, seal unbroken.

"Why are you even here? I'm not his—" Loved one. Ice was just—there. A close friend. A wingman. It doesn't matter whether he loves Mav or not, he will always be just someone in his life, not his loved one. "I'm just his best friend."

"Commander Mitchell stated this address as Bradley Bradshaw's main residence during deployment."

Jesus Christ. He can't—Bradley. What was he going to tell Bradley?

"Commander Mitchell's sole beneficiary is Bradley Bradshaw, and since he's a minor, we need to execute his will alongside our condolences." Bradley lost another parent. And all he has left is a will. "You've been named as Bradley Bradshaw's legal guardian if Commander Mitchell was—unable to take care of him."

"He's never told me that."

He didn't. Not even a word. He knew Mav had a will, they all did. But he never thought enough to make sense of the details.

It couldn't be Ice. He couldn't exist on paper in Mav's life or in Bradley's life.

"You can refuse—"

Ice phases out the words that come after — Mav can't be gone, Mav couldn't have left Bradley to him, Mav couldn't have thought he would be able to care for Bradley alone, without Mav's help and guidance. He couldn't have left them both there with broken hearts.

Ice doesn't believe this. It can't be true. If he stares long enough, the two officers in front of him are going to disappear and he will get a late night call from Mav from the ship and will wake up Baby Goose so they could chat and—

"Ice, I know I should be asleep but can we check if we got enough jars for bugs? I really want to—"

Ice finally comes back to the surroundings.

Bradley stands in the kitchen door, noticing the two people in there, in uniforms. "I'm sorry, sirs, I didn't know—"

At that exact moment, Bradley notices the flag and the unopen letter. He can see it nice and clear — his face falls and he doesn't look at anything but the goddamn flag and the stupid letter made on behalf of the President.

Ice stops breathing. "Bradley—"

"No," he says, shaking his head, so quiet. "Not again, no—"

Before Ice can say anything, Bradley is running back up the stairs.

#mav is fine btw #he's in siberia trying to get back to the usa without getting found out #it'll take him two years to go to the usa via alaska but he'll come back #ice just won't be able to not be a dad by the time he comes back #yes this is kinda a buddie au because both eddie and mav are idiots with kids #icemav #tom iceman kazansky #bradley rooster bradshaw #tg86 #fic ideas #written in a bus trying not to fall asleep #shoulf be a tag it happens so often #q #op #charlie writes

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candyskiez · 6 months

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usually I hate possession plots but god,I love the possessed hunter plot. because it's just so painfully resonant as an abuse victim. especially to anyone who's been abused by bigots.

like. this outside force you once loved, you spent so much of your time trying to please, so much of your time begging for the approval of, isolates you. they cause you to grow paranoid and angry, snapping at people and pushing you away from your support system. makes you seem crazy to your loved ones, making them doubt your mental health and making you question your sense of reality because you can't tell what's real or not anymore (gaslighting, baby!) you're cut off and overwhelmed. you get put in situations where you're forced to do things you don't want to, you're in so much pain, you're being treated like something with no wants or thoughts of their own. you're stripped of your autonomy. you're belittled for what you wanted and told THIS is how you're supposed to be, and you're so miserable. you're pitted against your loved ones. your abuser tries to make all your loved ones hate you so you come back to them, so they don't lose you. and belos being a horrifically realistic portrayal of an IRL abuser makes this so much worse. he craves Caleb's attention and tries to force hunter to fill that void. nevermind HES the one who robbed himself of caleb in his life by killing him. he tries to make hunter his shoulder to cry on, his therapist, his punching bag, his doctor. uses him to look at himself and go "see! look how good I'm doing! my family is back and he finally loves me again!" , he is obsessive and horrible and cruel and so horrifically realistic. he strips hunter of his autonomy, and in the shit that will start sounding familiar to people who grew up in bigoted families:

forced him out of what made him most comfortable. literally grew out his hair against his will, treated how he'd changed his body and wardrobe to make himself more comfortable as something that tainted him.

also just. holy shit the violating him like that. just the fucking undertones. it's fucking horrific.

and that's why him fighting back is so huge. because he has the strength to say, no. fuck you, no. this is my goddamn body. this is my goddamn life. he takes all these things he LOVED. he loved, that belos had taught him he was sinful and a horrible person for not despising (hm, allegories) and says, fuck you, I WANT this. I want this, I love this, you tried to teach me to hate it but I don't. I love it. I love it, and you didn't break me. I want to leave the coven, I want to leave you. you hurt me, and I said sorry. you used me, and I said sorry. I am done being sorry. I am done feeling bad. I want this life you're trying to take from me. I want to go to the boiling isles and I want to have a life there, in that world you hate so much. I want to go to the boiling isles and be sinful and disgusting and everything you hate and I will love it. I will be happy. I will be free and everything you hate. and I miss when I thought I could please you, because it was simple. but I am happier as a heretic and as a sinner, and you can't change me. I tried to change myself for you, I just ended up miserable. you can't make me something I'm not. I tried. and I am done trying. I am hunter. fuck you, my name is hunter. my name is hunter, and you hurt people. it doesn't matter if you were trying to help me. you hurt me. and I am done, and I am leaving, and most of all I will never let you hurt anyone else like you hurt me.

and he fucking got it, man. he fucking got it. he went through HELL and he still came back swinging. the death feels symbolic to me almost? losing a part of you in traumatic events and you have to live without that part. and you got out but you lost pieces of you in the process, and that stays with you.

but he keeps going. he kept fucking going man and THAT is fucking amazing to me. he kept going. ohhh my god. I wish I had this when I was 13. hunter isn't as massive of a hyperfixation for me anymore by a long shot, but goddamn. I love this dude. I LOVED the possession scene so fucking much and it will always resonate with me so, so hard.

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mdr-writings · 6 months

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Streamer!Eren x reader pt.2

A/n: I'm sorry I took so long to get this part out. I was very busy with my classes, I had relationship problems, family issues, I was a hot mess. But after rewrite after rewrite I can finally put this out. How convenient that its on Final Aot day. Honestly, I'm also glad that I am putting it out today bc I'd rather be hot and bothered rather than sad and sobbing. Btw I am gonna fix the first part because I feel like it lacks a lot of things. If you still want to read it, it’s linked below

wc:4.3k

Part One

Cw: slight teasing of weight, oral ( fem receiving), overstimulation, heavy kissing

” So does Eren behave himself when he talks to you guys,” you ask the chat as you sat down on his lap.

“What? you know I always behave myself,” he cocks his head towards you grinning. “Sure you do,” you said rolling your eyes. You know that he rarely behaves himself when it comes to you. So, you could assume he’s the same in front of an audience. You point your finger towards the camera. “Look, seems like the chat knows you better than yourself.”

Eren’s attention shifts to the screen to see the chat flooding with comments siding with you. “It’ll be your own people huh?” you let out a quick chuckle while picking at your nails.

“Do you guys have anything you wanna ask her,” he questioned.

You speak up, “Yeah, you guys can ask me anything “. You didn't know where this sense of comfortability came from. Maybe it was Eren's aura or the way he communicates with his audience. It’s a possible reason as to why he has such a big following.

Eren has always been transparent about how he feels whether it’s about something or someone. The guy has a hard-on for conflict, but the way he is authentic with himself is admirable. “Anything?” Eren raises his eyebrows in amusement. The sound of a notification alert pops up on the monitor. A monotone robotic voice booms from the computer’s speaker” what is the freakiest thing you've done?”

“What do you mean?” you furrowed your eyebrows together. Of course, you were not going to show that side of you. Who do they think they were trying to ask a question like that? Perhaps you do tell them, then what? You become the biggest streamer’s slut? Smart remarks filled your head ready to be spat at the viewers. Though, integrity got the best of you and decided to remain quiet.

“Aww come on, you can’t let the audience down now” he teases. Eren begins soothingly stroking your thigh. As he strokes, he draws patterns of circles, leaving you to accidentally shudder in his grasp. He then intriguingly raises his eyebrows.

“Oh my god, I'm literally slipping off of you” you grab on both sides of his thighs to try to push yourself up. “Geez you’re like a fucking slip and slide, what did you do bath in, butter?” you mumbled. Eren looks down to your bottom half and notices your butt touching his knees. “It’s okay, I got you,” he murmured.

“Goddamn, you’re heavy as fuck.” You whipped your head to face him to strike him a glare. He then adjusts himself with you on top, making your bottom rub against his crotch. A low groan escaped his mouth. You felt heat brewing on your face.

“Uhhh let’s see, is there any more questions?” you ask desperately looking at the screen. “Y/n you didn't even answer the first one” he raised one eyebrow and lowered the other. You stop your internal thoughts as you once again feel a hot sensation on your thigh moving. You try not to acknowledge the hand with clear intentions of riling you up.

“You gotta toughen it out y/n.”

“Actually,” you start. Eren eyes shot up in interest. “I can recall, the time I... you know... to a professor in a class,” you stammer over your words. Instantly, a wave of regret crashes into you. Somehow you forgot Eren attends this same college and classes you take. You silently cursed at yourself.

“Oh?” Eren’s lips curled up into a smirk. “And who might that professor be?” he questioned. Learning this fun fact about your sexual deviances aroused Eren's curiosity. In a millisecond, your ear is set ablaze as pressed his Eren's lips against it. “Would that be Professor Erwin or Miche?” His warm breath brazes your ears which ignites a fire in your stomach. “Or maybe Professor Levi?” his hand slithered its way towards your inner thigh. Your legs quickly squeeze together in hopes to stop the throbbing that started between them. Luckily, Eren was just in time to snatch his hand away from the trap. Your face was twisted up in frustration.

This hasn’t been the first time that Eren has teased you. But this felt different, it’s almost as if you don’t want it to stop. The words he’s throwing at you don’t feel like feathers this time around. His hands on your thighs feel like it’s burning through your skin. The heartbeat in your core seems to pulsate harder and faster. You didn’t want it to stop but you were fighting to not look desperate.

Satisfied in your response, Eren clasped his hands together. “Alright I'm gonna end it right here make sure you share the stream with your friends, follow Y/n on her socials and repent, toodles” he sings. Eren leans over to hit a hotkey on his keyboard which he assumes ends his streams. He then swivels the knobs on the computer’s speaker on mute. He once again lays a hand on your thigh. You let out a short hum clearing your throat. He then leans back to take notice of your stiff position in his lap. Eren lightly squeezes your arm,” You, okay?”

“I’m fine,” you pull away from his grip. Eren can tell when he goes overboard. He could just make it up to you by buying your favorite food like he always does. But for once in his life, he would rather be mature and talk it through.

“Hey, I know this was your first time on here and I know it was a bit overwhelming,” he breathed. “I do apologize if I made you uncomfortable.”

“I said I’m fine Eren,” you raised your voice. Eren was taken aback by your sudden attitude towards him. His once loud and lively room was now clouded with silence. “I think we should head down now,” he placed his hands upon your plush waist. Gripping the chair handles, you turn around allowing your legs to lay against Eren’s waist. “I lost my appetite,” you whispered in monotone.

You couldn’t understand yourself as to why you suddenly opposed his suggestion. Wasn’t your main objection being to take him downstairs? You could just walk away from him and have that same gut-wrenching feeling in your stomach. But your body wouldn’t allow you to move. Something snapped, those times of playful bickering started to build a form of lust and desire. Maybe now was the time to reveal the real reason behind the constant squabbles.

“Y/n, I said I’m s-”

“You know,” you started. “Our little fights always end up leaving me confused,” your gaze pandered between his dark forest green eyes and plump lips.

From what you could remember, Eren constantly had some girl hooked up on him. Hell, he even got Mikasa wanting to try him out. But for some reason he could never really settle. His mind always seemed to wander to the same person, you. The squabbles could be played off as friendly but the feeling of wanting it to go further lingered. But as a result, it left you reaching for more, wanting him more.

Eren’s heart pounds loud against his chest. He always felt as if going further wasn’t an option. He had his moments where he just wanted to hold you so close, as if he would die if he let go. Moments where he wanted to make you his. Perhaps if he did the things he thought of doing to you, how would he face the friend group, what about his fans, and Mikasa? He decided that acting upon his true feelings towards you was too risky.

“We’re friends Y/N” he confirms, his eyes soften under your gaze. Your eyes then pondered around his room. “Is that all you want to be?”

He huffs out an air of defeat. The sound of the ventilation buzzing was consuming the room.

“I-I” he stuttered as the pounding of his heart was breaking his sternum. He raises a hand to cover his rose-colored face.” Y/n what’s the point of this,” he audibly muffles. You reach up to pry his hand away from himself and hold it in your palms.

“I’m doing what I feel is right to me,” you reply with reason.

As corny as it felt, you no longer had interest in letting the feeling of desire leave you again.

“So, antagonizing me is what feels right to you? “Yup, that sounds just like you,” he speculated. Your face drops into a frown,” No dumbass.” Your fingers hook in the crevasses of his. Eren scrunches his eyebrows together in uncertainty. “Then what?” You place your intertwined hands over your heart that was protected by your flesh. “Us” you replied in a hush tone. It seems like Eren’s face couldn’t get any redder. Your hands enclosed over his, touching your chest, it felt as if he were in his recurring dream. This time, he was hoping there would be no interruptions to wake him.

“Are you fucking with me,” Eren interrogated in disbelief. Your skin began to spread warmth to your face. “Yes, I mean... no but I want to- if you know what I mean,” you ran over your words frantically. Still not connecting the dots, Eren’s head cranks his head to the side. You inhale a shaky breath” I can’t believe I’m saying this but…”

“Eren, I like you,” you sheepishly state. It was as if you could hear a needle drop on the floor. To make matters worse, the screaming vents were now hushed. “Well?” you quizzed. His eyes darkened as he stared through your soul. Your heart tanked to the lowest part of your stomach. Your confession has left you embarrassed and empty handed with no response.

That same damn feeling.

Your frustration grew as you started to pull your legs away from his waist. A hand jumped out to grasp at your thigh pulling you closer. You jump at the sudden movement. “I want you to say it again.” You could feel your blood pressure rising by the second. He got some nerve to try to humiliate you. “Hey, I finally have the courage to tell you- “

“Y/n, I want you to say it again,” he repeats while his eyes were capturing your psyche. You silence yourself as you can sense his serious demeanor. His eyes were dissecting every part of your face.

“I like you,” you whispered.

Suddenly, you felt your lower half become weightless. Your arms quickly wrapped around his neck for security. Eren’s arms gripped the back of your thighs as he moved towards his bed. It was like time was strolling through Molasses. You begin to study his face. So, tense and stern as if it was in concentration to finish a task. Just minutes ago, you were just stopping by to send a message from your friends. Now you were in his bed waiting for his next move.

Dropping you onto the bed, he stands in front of you, sighing while his eye sweeps over your face. You bite your lips anxiously not wanting to make any other part of your body move. Once again, the room continues its loud humming.

“I try so hard to resist, but you always seem to reel me back in.” You remain still as your thoughts race in your head. “Do you not care about what people will say,” He harshly grips his biceps.

“No”

His jaw clenches tightly. Why couldn’t you understand how risky it is for the both of you? The possible backlash of his viewers that was also used to seeing Mikasa on the stream. Mikasa possibly being jealous that the two of best friends are entangled in each other’s arms. He thought of the many outcomes of the situation which were all negative.

“Why can’t we keep it a secret, nobody has to know,” you crossed your arms against your chest. Eren walks towards you, stopping close as your legs almost touched. He leans over, his face nearing to yours. His minted breath tickles your nose.

“Because Y/n, being around you, I can’t be secretive.” His closeness has you yearning, you crave him. Your eyes frantically search his, you could almost feel your heart jumping out your chest. Not waiting a second more, you crash your lips into his. Releasing years of tension and desire, you melt as your lips mesh together.

He loses balance as you pull him on top of you. Regaining his composure, he leans in closer to your face. You hastily reach up to grab a hand full of his locks, enclosing his hair in your fingers. Eren groans as your grip tightens. His groan sends millions of nerve shocks to your core. You let out a soft moan into his mouth. A sudden wave of clarity hits you as it feels like you haven’t gotten his full approval. A quick smack could be heard as you pulled away from his lips.

“Are you okay with this, we can stop,” you inquire trying to steady your breathing. Eren chuckles as if your question were nothing but a joke. “I don’t think now is the right time to start asking questions.” You smile brightly leading him back to your lips. He then pushes harder into the kiss making you needlingly whine.

He begins tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth. He sweeps his tongue in between your lips, exploring your warm mouth. You lower your hands towards his pants, rubbing his hard print. Eren quickly pulls away from your mouth while pushing you back flat against his bed.

He now feels the temperature of the room increasing by the minute. He pulls the hem of his shirt over his head. Your eyes scan his toned body as he studies yours. He decides he wasn’t going to be the only one shirtless. “Arms up,” he commands you. You lift your arms over your head as he pulls your shift off. Now bare breasted you cover yourself up. “Don’t be shy now, should I cover mine too,” he joked covering his tanned nipples. You let out a short giggle, rolling your eyes revealing your chest. Eren smiles as he trails his lips down towards your breast.

You shiver as you feel his tongue leave hot kisses on its journey down south. He latches on to your hardened nipple, sucking and licking as he flicks the other in his hand. You jolt up panting from his touch. The sounds of you moaning tighten the grip of print in his pants. “Eren” you whimpered; your core was leaking more of your slick.

“Feels good?” he asked with a labored breath. “Mmhm,” you moaned. His fingers began to run up and down the sides of your legs. Your head grew hot and dazed, the warmth of his touch scorched your skin. He then lowers his head to peck your thighs leading down to your heated core. Your heart rate spiked as you knew these course of events officially change everything about your relationship with him. Eren’s eyes reach yours to ask to continue. You harshly swallow the hard ball of saliva stuck in your throat.

You then nod your head while swiping your tongue on your lips as the heat made them chapped. Your legs felt a strong pull as thighs were raised to the sides of your stomach. Swiftly, your panties were snatched away from your body. Then you look down to see his head ducked below your thighs. A wet long stripe swiped across your lower lips. Your legs quickly try to shut but eren’s reaction time was faster, catching them in his hands.

“You want me to stop?” He asks. You shook your head side to side in desperation for him to continue. “Then keep still, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” you responded.

Settling back in between your thighs, you felt another long stripe now on your folds. “Oh fuck,” you cried. Your breath was hitching, you felt air being sucked out of your lungs. Eren could felt his cock get more sensitive as he rubs it against his pants. He towards the top of your pussy and puckered his lips around your needy bud, giving it several pecks.

“Oh my god, “ you moaned loudly. Your hands were clawing at your chest not having another place to settle. The sensation was overwhelming your body, the heat from the room and his mouth set you aflame. You felt a long intrusion prodded at your sopping hole, entering you slowly. You let a high-pitched squeal as you squeeze your eyes shut. Eren gazed up at your face turning in satisfaction. He lets out groan around your hard bud buzzing it into more pleasure.

“Yes, right there,” you screamed out. Eren works his fingers harder and deeper into your hole. Stretching and curling his long digits. The squelching of your dripping core and screams echoed around the room. Eren began to feel the grip of your walls tighten and loosening, letting him know you were close to your speedy climax.

“Eren, more please,” you needily whined pushing yourself closer to his face. He then removed his fingers and plunged his tongue into your hot core, swirling it around. Once again glancing up, he peeks at your pleasured face, lips falling into a perfect “o”. His fingers start to circle around your clit. Your feet curl up and down over his broad shoulders. While soaking and scavenging your hole, he brushed over a small plush button. Your thick arousal dripped on to his black satin sheets leaving a damp puddle underneath you.

You gasp hard as you arched your back off the bed. He smirks as he hits the sensitive spot over and over. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your stomach clenched. “I’m gonna cum,” you panted wearily. You felt his pace on your bud and hole quicken faster than before. He presses deep into you, numbing the spot that weakened your senses.

“Ahhh, yess” you hiss in despair. The band in your stomach begins to ripple harshly. He pinches your clit tightly in between his fingers, yanking the nerves upwards. In an instant, your walls clench and stutter profusely. Panting and crying out, as Eren decides to rub you through your orgasm making you whine in pain.

“Eren, no more, please!”

He shushes you while enthusiastically applying more pressure on your bud. The sensation of you needing to release again ached you. Fluids suddenly began spurting from your overstimulated cunt. You cry out as drool seeping out your gaping mouth.

“goooood girl,” he praises you, slowly drawing circles on your clit. As your breath settles, he slowly removes his fingers from you. Looking over, he presents his dampen fingers to you. “You might wanna get a- “

Eren slipped the wet digits into his mouth, licking and slurping your juices from his hand. Blood drained from your face as you watched him pop his fingers out of his mouth. He smiles at your astonished reaction.

“You taste good,” he smirked. “Shut up!” you angrily yelled. He then began moving closer towards you.

“Wanna try?”

“Eren, I swear to god, get away from me,” you shouted grabbing the covers from underneath to protect you. “Come here~” he teases. He quickly makes his way to your side while cackling. You shriek, a gasp of wind grazes you as he rips the blankets away from your bare body.

“NO,” you scream out as his face is inches away from yours. Eren halted his body from moving further. “You actually don’t want to try it?” he questions. You slightly turn your head away from his deep green eyes.

“Well, I- uhm”, you nervously stammer out. Eren softly smiles at your demeanor in enjoyment, “it’s embarrassing,” he finishes for you.

“It’s embarrassing,” you shyly confirm while nodding your head. His fingertips rest at the bottom of your face, tenderly pushing it back to face him. Your eyes attach to his, occasionally shifting to his plump lips. “Listen, I’m not gonna force you,” he assures.” But it was funny watching you scream,” his dimple forms on his cheeks as he breaks out in laughter. You frown in humiliation but soon, bits of giggles spill from your mouth. Your joined laughter filled your bodies with happiness, neither you nor he wanted it to fade into the abyss.

Eren laughter dies out as he focuses once again on your face. His thumb reaches your lips, gently brushing over them. Your eyes saturated with temptation, inching closer to his warm lips. He understood your command, closing the thin gap between the both of you, your mouths gracefully settled on each other. You could feel your chest twist and twirl in excitement.

Could it be love? No, no, that’s a tad bit heavy to use the L word on the same day of your confession. It felt too light label it as a crush. Whatever it was, bonded the cracks of your heart that formed each day that came before this one.

Letting the kiss linger a second longer, you could taste a reminisce of a sweet and tangy flavor on his mouth. You pulled back from him allowing a sigh to slip out, “I wanna try it,” you confessed. Eren’s eyebrows slanted in confusion, “You already did”.

“No, I did- OH!” You shouted covering your mouth. You jokingly smacked your lips together to taste yourself again, “you’re right I don’t taste bad”. Eren smiles at your blatant wittiness, it’s one of the things he most admires about you. The quick jabs you throw at him and the rest of the group, it seems he’s the only one who manages to keep up.

The mention of the group assisted in his daze to drift to the main purpose of you being here. “Y/n, we should probably head down now, it’s been while since you left them”. You slid your shirt over your head as you hummed in agreement. He follows your lead and begins to put his shirt on.

Time seems to pass on fast, in a span of minutes you were introduced and teased on his stream, let out your confession and allowed the man you have been eyeing out on for years to devour you.

“Dammit,” you stoop down to look under his bed. “What are you looking for”, he inquires also tilting his head down. Your hands blindly wander under his bed frame, “I can’t find my underwear”. The constant slapping of your hand against his floor was tiring and the lack of light in his room didn’t help with your searching.

“Oh, you mean these”, your head turns up towards the brunette boy. His hands hold the panties, balled up and enclosed under his fingers. You stride towards him quickly as he grins, eyeing your exposed lower parts.

“Eren, give it to me,” you warned sternly. He backs up raising the panties behind his head, “it was so good you’re begging for more huh?” he taunts.

You angrily step closer to him, “Eren!” you gritted your teeth. “I don’t know I think it’ll kind of be exciting to free ball it, don’t you think”, he laughs still steps backwards.

“Fuck you,” you angrily retort.

“Ah, we’ll get to that another time, don’t wanna be too needy”.

Finally reaching him, you stare with dagger in your pupils. Not a peep could be heard as he stares back with levity, seeing this as nothing but fun. Your eyes shift between the parallel green ones, fury congests your stomach. Eren fights the urge to grab your face and push your soft lips on his.

“Whatever”, you huffed out in defeat, going to put your shorts back on. He smiles lightly, retreating his prize into his top dresser drawer. You make your way towards his door ready to exit but something still nagged at your thoughts.

“Eren, what is this now”, you questioned in concern. He slides the band out of his hair, making the brown locks frame his face and shoulders. “You mean, what’s going on between us,” he asks with vagueness. “Mmhm” You hummed wanting him to continue.

“Oh yeah, your mine for sure”, he carelessly raked his fingers through his tresses. You felt heat flash across your cheeks, flustered by the fact that you were now in his possession.

Eren then bites the band while gathering his hair into one fist in the back of his head. The back side of his biceps strained; veins flexed as his grip tightened on his hair. You stare at the voluptuous muscles that fought against his flesh. The boy finally places the band in his other hand then ties it into a somewhat presentable bun.

“Even in front of them”, you questioned referring to your joined friend group. The door was now ajar, the light of the hallway bled into his room making the luminesce shine on your body. “We’ll talk more later, let’s eat,” he mumbled nodding his head into the lit-up hall. You whispered a quick “okay” as you made your way out and soon, he follows right after.

Darkness had absorbed every spec of light in the room, except one blinking spot of red on Eren’s desktop.

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢୨୧⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢ ⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢୨୧⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢

“And I even got the chance to hold one”, Armin boasted proudly. The other remaining friends gathered around the table excited to hear about Armin’s oceanic studies. Food was placed on the counter waiting to be consumed, mainly waiting to be consumed by Sasha as she anxiously stared at the thinning steam that rose from the pot.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit dangerous to only be for a general research assignment”, Jean asks in genuine concern for the blond. “No, not at all”, Armin answers while swiping between photos on his phone of the sea animal he held. Jean sighs in defeat, what a way to be reckless for an extracurricular class.

Mikasa sat in between the 2 blondes, patiently waiting for you and eren’s arrival. She pondered at clock resting against the wall. It’s ticking reminding her every second and minute goes by without the appearance of her 2 friends up the stairs.

“It’s going on fifteen minutes now”, she informs the group. “I'm sure they’ll be down in a sec”, armin reassured while glancing at the time on his phone.

“Yeah whatever, who’s idea was to wait for him anyway”, the food fiend groaned. Armin and Mikasa accusingly pointed their fingers towards Jean. “ I thought it would be a nice way of gathering together”, his face painted in pink.” “Mama’s boy”, Sasha muttered under her breath.

“ Hey, I heard that! ”

Connie, too consumed by his phone to engage in conversation decided to do a check up on his socials. Twitter was the first choice, he laughed obnoxiously at a couple of tweets from people he followed closely. Afterwards, he viewed the current top 10 trending topics.

Elon Musk, a copycat.

Megan thee Stallion, she can step on me.

One Piece Live action, mid.

Jaegermeister exposed, about damn time.

It wouldn’t be surprising if eren did a tip slip, that wouldn’t be the worst thing he could’ve done. Connie, not anticipating the unexpected, lazily pressed the bolded subhead. Automatically, the top video began to play out, his breathing came to a sudden pause; pupils dilated in shock.

“No way”

Tagged:

@sofamochi @bootlegroach @nafi-2004

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #aot x reader #mdrwritings #eren jaeger #eren yeager #eren aot

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nonokoko13 · 4 months

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SPOILERS SXF CHAPTER 93 ❗❗❗

So, chapter 93. Starting with Anya scores...

THAT'S MY GIRL!!!! CONGRATULATIONS BABY!!! 🎉🎊🥳

(Let's take a moment to appreciate what a good and supportive friend Becky is too 💖)

As I expected Anya passed classical language (with a huge improvement!) but in the large, tedious walk on Hell that is school not everyone can get exceptional grades in every subject unless you're a Desmond apparently and Anya, as many people who preceded her and will come after her, failed math.

I have seen many people make theories about how certain older student who we shall discuss next could be her tutor. However, my theory is that she will receive help from Bill in the future

It makes more sense: both already know each other, Anya has more chances of Bill accepting or suggesting to help her than the-one-I-shall-name-later and overall Bill seems more communicative and better at socialising and explaining himself. Let's not forget he received a stella in math after all. So for me Bill seems like the most plausible option (maybe we will get jealous Damian with this friendship?)

Back at the Forgers residence the Authens pay a visit to congratulate Anya as well. When I read Sigmund's sentence about how rewarding is to have a payment for your hard work my mind automatically thought "But sometimes no matter how hard you try you don't get a reward. Sometimes the result is just not worth the effort" (I think many people has a canon event that reveals them that, specially when you're in highschool, middle school or college)

And right after thinking that he agreed with me lol. My mind really anticipates things before finishing a panel

Speaking of hard work and grades, I'm taking this chance to give my opinion: a system based on giving stars to those who have the highest grades while those who fail face the possibility of being expelled is awful. Not getting a star and comparing yourself to your peers already make horrors to your self esteem, imagine a child getting expelled for repeatedly fail a exam that may not be adapted to their needs (or getting many tonitrus for things your teachers disapprove of you but you didn't know it was wrong or for something about yourself you cannot control. For example a kid with ADHD unintentionally interrupting someone, disconnecting in the middle of a conversation or making noise with their leg when they stay still for too long. No need to go as far as talking about neurodivergent kids, look at that chapter where Anya got a tonitrus for not having a handkerchief. Who the fuck is punished for that when you're an adult anyway)

Enough of that, back to the chapter. Let's talk about what hyped me the most: Demetrius finally appearing on screen!

We already had crumbs of him before. Given Damian inferiority complex when comparing himself to him when he had talked about school and Twilight noticing his exams barely had any mistakes back in the chapter where Daybreak was welcomed to this world, him being a exceptional student when it comes to academics isn't surprising in the least.

Many say he's ugly and exactly like his father but I disagree. Donovan looks like a goddamn Frankenstein if Frankenstein was ugly, Demetrius take after his dead eyes look but he's pretty like Melinda. Not conventionally pretty like Damian or Melinda but kinda pretty. Like a zombie with sleep deprivation but in an endearing way. It's not his fault he's built like a Tim Burton or Don't Starve Together character... anyway I'm sure his appearance can grow up on you, hopefully (;´ ▾ `)

About the theories regarding this panel

It may be true something's going on, maybe he was really experimented on... But I can't stop thinking he was in that very moment "No thoughts, head empty" mode

I mean, he looks like a walking corpse in dire need of a proper nap, can you blame him if his thoughts are mainly focused on studies when Donovan probably spent time with him only for the sake of producing a good grades, not independent thinking machine as his heir? "He watch him study all the time."

I don't think it was necessary for a tragic incident to change Donovan and made him distant from his family. I suspect he has always been like that, perhaps even before having Demetrius, so it was less a traumatic big event and more the exhausting everyday life Demetrius has been having as far as he remembers of being supervised by his father in order to be the best at school and everything that turned him into the probably burnt out teenager he is.

Same with Melinda, being married to somebody you might not have even loved when you first got together, a man who doesn't try to understand others or seem capable of caring for anyone, a man who is not precisely publicly known for his kindness (remember Millie and Yor's boss when Donovan was brought up?)... Being married to that kind of person for years and then having kids with that person and have to keep being related to them for at least until your kids graduate sound like a miserable life indeed

The Desmond have a common theme going around that is understanding the world around them, or rather the lack of it. I can say for sure that Demetrius feeling overwhelmed simply with a bunch of kids and thinking he can't understand people have its roots in Donovan

• For Donovan is his narrow minded belief that nobody can't understand — therefore neither trust — each other because people is different; and as long as that phrase of "two people can't think the same" lives to the reality it finds itself in reaching a common ground is impossible.

• Donovan influenced Demetrius. Perhaps Demetrius doesn't share his father belief and that's not why he can't understand others, maybe it is because he was possibly deprived of a normal childhood where he could socialise with others of his age without his father expectations onto him.

Many academic gifted children reach a part of their lives where their habit is to think inside the box of "Good grades is all I'm good at or all I should care about; good grades = doing fine; it's all about what you can prove to those who expect something from you, not what you can prove to yourself to make you feel satisfied and happy".

When people who raised you condition you to act, live and think the way they wanted you to do is difficult to break and separate yourself from that. Plus he's going through the middle school phase, from personal experience that makes you x10 times angsty and complicated to understand yourself, much less everyone else.

• With Damian it is less discussed and pointed out because he's been able to have a relatively normal —if anything very neglected — childhood up to this point. He has friends, he acts like a kid of his age, his life doesn't revolve around his grades all the time... But that's the bare minimum of what a good childhood should be like.

It may be because of his age, but he doesn't see the bigger picture of his family. He can't see what is wrong with them (yet) because in his eyes nothing is wrong. Sure, he feels lonely and works hard for his dad to notice him, but that happens in many families right? He's not even in denial, he doesn't phantom the idea that what his family is, how they behave towards each other or towards him, isn't normal.

Don't make me start with how his future plans is following Donovan's footsteps in politics because he's trying that hard to approach him. He works hard at school because in his mind being like Demetrius or how he believes Donovan wants him to be would bring them closer, receive an understanding relationship from his dad when we know there might not be genuine affection between them from Donovan's side to start with.

He's teaching himself that love is conditioned by your "worth" or by whether you get to the expectations your loved ones have. That reminds me of what Sigmund told Anya because it sounds like a foretelling of Damian's life: [...] And one day you'll experience the frustration of realizing that hard work is not always rewarded. He doesn't many things and his age may explain it but it doesn't justify, if he continues thinking like that he'll have his hopes crushed and may turn out like Demetrius.

• As for Melinda, is difficult to talk about the point she stands in the understanding theme. Unlike her family she does seem able to understand people, perhaps because she wasn't raised like her kids have been. She's aware that her husband party made a lot of damage to their country, she seems aware and attentive to what surrounds her.

I don't think she cannot be understanding or perceptive, I think it's the other way around: the people she's surrounded by cannot understand her. Neither Yor, Anya, Damian, surely Demetrius and Donovan neither, her "friends" of the association she's in... Not even us can't understand the reason why she's so conflictive about Damian yet.

In just one appearance Donovan made his belief clear, thus giving us an idea of what type of feelings he has towards Damian. We can get so much of his character as a person with one chapter, but Melinda has appeared more than him and her true self is unknown. Donovan is reserved in a physical way, he isolates himself by not going outside and socialising, but he's not against the idea of explaining a stranger his stance in life. Melinda surrounds herself of people and listens to them but she keeps to herself.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to see more of Demetrius and the Desmonds. Hope we get more screen time of them, unless Endo has decided to drop such episode only to give us a one-shot chapter next and not elaborate further before introducing a complete different arc 💦

Although with what we have I'm already bought and entertained enough. Our favorite family is great but hooray for secondary characters being given depth and spotlight in this manga 🥳

See you next chapter reaction! If I made another one after other 25 full moons. I'm probably forgetting to talk about something...Oh well

#spy x family #sxf #manga spoilers #sxf chapter 93 #sxf spoilers #spy x family spoilers #chapter analysis #anya forger #bill watkins #donovan desmond #demetrius desmond #damian desmond #melinda desmond #becky blackbell #emile elman #ewen egeburg #GOD YOU DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS EMO KID TO ARRIVE #my speculation of his looks was completely wrong and I'm glad it was. He looks prettier with not having a ikemen face #maybe it's just me and my liking for unconventional faces or faces different from the normal face an artist give to their ocs tho #idk. he looks neat to me #reminds me of owls and lemurs ✨#Maybe that's not the compliment I think it is given I also like George face because he gives me Frankenstein vibes #(not the same as Donovan's Frankenstein vibes btw)#♡ — shut up noko #Dementrius does sound like he would listen to MCR if there was MCR equivalent in sxf world. Look what parent issues and 0 naps do to a mf #Donovan let your family have a life without physical or spiritual presence or the consequences of it leaving a mark on them challenge #(impossible)#sigmund authen #almost forgot to tag Einstein looking grandpa #demetrius probably have 0 friends too. poor guy

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sarahghetti · 26 days

Text

direction to perfection; j.l.

pairing: jake lockley x reader, marc and steven are briefly alluded to but do not make an appearance

summary: one day, your vigilante lifestyle leads to you to crossing paths with a moon-serving weirdo in white bandages. jake promises that he won't get in the way, but there's something about his smirk that has your spidey-sense tingling, and what do you know—

he sets a building on fire.

it's not supposed to be romantic.

warnings: depictions of fighting and violence, injuries, hurt and comfort, reader is a spider-person and thus has a spider-person sense of humour😭.

word count: 3.8k

notes: part of the @MOONKNIGHT-EVENTS bingo! prompt: “'bonfire”

MOON KNIGHT MASTERLIST | ALL MASTERLISTS

You have a love-hate relationship with your spidey-sense—it’s useful enough to give you a heads-up, but it’s not exactly a get-out-of-danger-free card.

It kicks in as you’re soaring through the air, an errant pulse in your veins that tells you one thing: MOVE. But there’s no time—before you even manage to lift your web-shooter, one of Doc Ock’s mechanical arms whips around and collides hard against your torso. For a moment, you feel your ribs crack underneath the metal, the sharp pains accompanied by a real stupid thought, even by your standards: guess I’m going to call in sick tomorrow—

—and then you finally hit the brick wall behind you. The air is ripped from your lungs and your thoughts short-circuit into nothingness. New York’s evening rush hour is drowned out by high-pitched ringing. If it weren’t for your wallcrawling ability, you’d be falling forty stories down onto the traffic below. Instead, rooted into the small crater you’ve made into an office building, all you can do is languish in what surely must be multiple broken bones and a slightly bruised ego for not being able to dodge a hit that you saw coming.

Speaking of—there’s another one heading towards you right now.

You leap upwards without a second thought, just narrowly avoiding becoming a shitty claw-machine prize as the arm lodges into the wall where your head used to be. Spots dance across your vision and you groan—your body does not want to move.

Suspended between two buildings, Doc Ock’s mechanical arms dig into concrete and brick as she follows you up. Her voice is deceptively empathetic. “Down so soon, little spider? I expected more from you!”

One of the arms rears back again but distantly, there’s the clench of a trigger—and it gets pinned behind her by a golden grappling hook.

The wire grows taut then there he is, using the reeling mechanism to lunge upwards. All the momentum is channeled into his crescent blade as Jake jams it between the plates of the trapped arm; it jerks like a wounded animal, suddenly uncoordinated and stiff. When it lashes out again, he easily dodges and jumps across the buildings onto the fire escape next to you.

“Mierda! You okay?”

Glowing white eyes, wide with concern—the sight is enough to shake you out of your concussive stupor. Jake extends a hand, and you take it readily, allowing him to help you up onto the rickety platform.

“Just peachy,” you wheeze as you lean almost your entire body weight against him.

This was supposed to be a simple mission. It wasn’t even supposed to be a mission in the first place, but one detained drug dealer led to another, which led to a smuggler and a mercenary and a goddamn gym teacheruntil you were faced with a whole corrupt laboratory that tied back to Doc Ock’s operations.

Jake got looped in somewhere between the mercenary and the gym teacher, apparently answering some kind of divine calling of his own. Egyptian god of the moon? Protecting travelers of the night? You just call the people you save New Yorkers, no fancy labelling here.

But you’re not so prideful as to turn away help when you need it, especially when it comes gift-wrapped in superhuman strength and a bullet-proof cape. Even though you catch him giving himself these looks in the windows you pass by or having whole conversations to himself under his breath—you’ve seen weirder.

Like now: There’s a clear conflict happening in—on?—Doc Ock. The damaged arm flails wildly through the air, and the other three can’t seem to decide between trying to calm it down, retreat, or kill you.

Those white eyes turn to you. “Sure you don’t want me to shoot her?”

“No!” Now you remember why you were initially wary of him—because when you first met, he was holding one of his blades to a lackey’s throat. Danger, danger! You didn’t even need your spidey-sense to tell you that; he wears the warning like a badge of honour. “We just need to subdue her till the cops come. Follow my lead.”

Jake gives you a mock salute. Fortunately, Doc Ock’s lab was deserted—except for her—when you crashed the place. Whatever supersecret bioweapon she’s cooking up will still be waiting for you to destroy it after you capture her.

With just one press of a button, you’re soaring back into action. The arms seem to have coordinated themselves again—having decided to kill you, how lucky—but so have you and Jake. One lunges towards you, and you pull upwards on your web, going feet over head as you as you flip backwards out of the way.

In that split-second moment when you’re fully upside-down, your arm extends downwards and thwip!—your web attaches to the titanium plating. The world realigns itself, and your momentum carries you in an arc below the arm, dragging it behind you as you continue in your original direction.

As soon as you land on the side of the opposing building, you yank hard. Immediately, your other hand comes up to shoot a dozen or so webs to attach the claw onto the wall. It won’t last—the brick is already crumbling under the force—but it gives Jake enough time to shake off Doc Ock’s attention and join you.

Closer than you were before, you can see just how much force it takes for him to drive his blade through the circuitry. Sparks burst like little fireworks around his hand. He makes it look easy, but a shudder crawls down your spine—you just know what he’s capable of.

You both leap out of the way as the arm thrashes erratically; Doc Ock cries out in frustration. That’s two arms down, and two that are busy suspending her in the air. You’ll have to catch her once you take out another one, but that’s no biggie.

“Jake!” You gesture towards the nearest arm, and he nods in understanding. Despite the pain radiating through your limbs, you grin. For all his snark and murderous tendencies (which you hope are just a joke), he’s a half-decent partner.

It’s too bad, then, that Doc Ock doesn’t seem to care about how good of a time you’re having. Her mouth twists into a snarl, and in a blink of an eye, she’s scrambling away. Retreating? Your poor, bruised head is hopeful for the night to end.

In a way, it’s right—she is trying to get away from you. Unfortunately, it also recognizes that she’s retracing your steps, right back to the lab where you first found her.

“Oh, damn it!”

Your injuries and Jake’s limited modes of superhuman transport make it impossible to gain any real ground as you chase after her. Doc Ock climbs through her shattered window half a minute before you do, and even if your conscious mind doesn’t realize it, some part of you does—it’s an ambush.

You dive to the ground just as a mini fridge is thrown in your direction. Pain shoots down your side, your vision blurring with tears. The sheer wave of nausea that washes over you makes your mouth water and fuck, you might actually puke like this.

There’s something else coming but you can’t do anything other than half-heartedly roll behind the nearest object. The workbench shields you from—what, a chair? You aren’t afforded anymore time to think about it because she rips off the counter next, several important-looking valves raining down around you. Through the noise, you just barely manage to pick up a quiet hissing in the air as you try to gather your bearings.

A line of workbenches down the centre of the room, an aisle on either side.

On the right: sinks and fume hoods.

On the left: whiteboards.

Directly in front of you: the absolute bane of—and possible end to—your existence, holding up that chunk of black countertop as if it were a hammer and you are a nail.

You brace yourself for the hit, but it never comes. There’s a surprised yelp from above you, and your peer through your arms at just the right time to see Jake land a brutal kick into Doc Ock’s chest, sending her flying. You don’t see her land, but you do hearit; equipment crashes to the ground, glass shattering on the linoleum.

With a hand from Jake, you’re back on your feet. Doc Ock is reeling at the far end of the room. The walls are littered with long, deep gashes—some from your initial confrontation with her, some likely from her mechanical arms flailing from Jake’s hit. Several of the fume hoods are missing their windows entirely, which definitely bodes ill considering that there are still chemicals in some of them.

Gritting your teeth, you somehow manage to get the words out, “Just stand down, Olivia!”

A hand is clutched at her side, and some petty part of you hopes that her ribs are broken too. “This isn’t over.”

You gesture to her mechanical arms, two of which are still malfunctioning like headless chickens, then to yourselves, who are (mostly) in one piece. “Well, it sure is about to be.”

She raises her eyebrows at Jake. “You raid a Spirit Halloween and suddenly think you can defeat me?”

“Yeah, sure, let me just take fashion advice from someone cosplaying as an octopus.”

Jake leans towards you. “Do you always talk this much?”

At that, Doc Ock’s eyes narrow, filled with determination. She’s not backing down this time, which means neither can you.

You both ready yourselves like you have countless times before, straightening your stance and setting your shoulders back. But Jake doesn’t show the same patience. No—he sees the remaining mechanical arms twitch in preparation, and a blade is already leaving his hand with deadly-precise aim.

Wait, wait, the hissing sound—the gas—

“Get down!” You ram your body into Jake’s, bringing you both to the ground as the blade makes contact with the titanium, sparks flying out and—

BOOM.

It’s like your heart stops.

For several moments, you don’t register anything at all. You aren’t even sure if you’re still breathing.

Slowly, your senses return. The scent of burning plastic invades your nostrils—even the air tastes like it too. Something’s landed on top of you, pinning you down with a surprising amount of strength. Warm and sturdy and pressing into all the wrong places, but you can’t even hear your own whimpering—there’s nothing but ringing in your ears.

Are your eyes closed? You can’t bring yourself to check. All you can do is try to remember how to live, and figure out what the hell is happening.

Your spidey-sense has gone quiet. That’s—that’s good. Hopefully. Or maybe it’s just been knocked out of you by the blast. You let that last thought get washed away into the muddled mess of your head; you could probably use a bit of positive thinking right now.

Everything hurts. That’s been true for the past hour, really, but there’s no gut-wrenchingly painful burn anywhere on your body like what you expected from a lab explosion. The closest thing is just that warmth against your back, in a thick arm across your chest, and encircled around your wrist, where it lingers along your pulse point.

Something brushes up against your cheek, roughly textured but trying to be so, so gentle. Words start to pierce through the hearing damage. “—estás bien, te tengo. No te preocupes, estás bien.”

“Jake?” Your voice comes out small and tinny, unsure of how loud to speak when everything sounds like it’s underwater. You receive an affirmative rumble, and the tension seeps out of your limbs, just a tad.

Tentatively, you open your eyes. And there’s—nothing. Just a white sheet of fabric covering your entire field of view. Jake huffs out a laugh at your confusion before finally standing up, his cape pulling back from where it was draped on top of you.

“Oh.”

It’s like a bomb went off. Nearly every surface has been scorched black, save for the perfectly untouched flooring around you where Jake shielded you both from the blast. Any equipment in the room has been reduced to pieces—if not completely combusted into ash and soot—and fires still linger despite the efforts of what’s left of the sprinkler system.

No sign of Doc Ock anywhere—she must’ve gotten away. Jake lets out a long string of curses under his breath, then finishes it off with an eloquent: “Fuck.”

The fire alarm is incessant, and the sprinklers have all but drenched your suit. If you had half a working brain left, you’d feel the shivers wracking your body and realize that you’re still bleeding out in several different places, but the only thing that crosses your mind is how tired you are.

You throw your mask off with a groan. The sirens in the distance only add to your growing headache. So close, you were so close this time.

“Come on.” Jake’s stands over you, mask retracted, and you can see the grimace on his face from how the mission turned out. Wordlessly, he offers to help you up, and is promptly ignored. He keeps his hand extended towards you, shaking it a little for emphasis, but you refuse to budge.

That is, until your mind so helpfully strays and wonders—how big was the blast?

Your eyes widen, and your body jerks upright as though electrocuted. Oh, God—you didn’t see anyone else in the lab other than Doc Ock when you arrived, but what about the other floors? What about the pedestrians on the sidewalk below, who might’ve had glass and debris rained down upon them when the windows were blown out?

It takes several tries to get to your feet, none of which are entirely successful because Jake has to intervene halfway through to hold you upright. Your second wind catches him off-guard and his brows furrow as you try to leap back into action. “Whoa—talk to me, bug. What’s happening?”

“Need to—” You try to shrug him off. His grip loosens for all of a moment before you’re stumbling again, and then he returns, as firm and steady as ever. “Was anyone hurt?”

“You.”

“Not what I meant,” you scowl. It’s thoroughly ineffective. The only response you get is a subtle tilting of his head, then a loss of his undivided attention as he listens to something—someone—in the room that you aren’t privy to.

His gaze flickers back to you, marginally softer. “No one else was hurt. You need to rest.”

You don’t dignify that with a response. What’s the point of superhealing if you can’t bounce back after a fight? This time when you struggle against him, Jake lets you go, crossing his arms as you limp around the room.

Fortunately, most of the smoke is being pulled out the windows; what’s left is enough to burn and scrape down your larynx, but you push through it. Doc Ock has to have left some kind of trace—if not during her escape, then in the work she left behind. But kicking around in the ashes yields nothing. There’s no conveniently placed folder full of evil plans, or vial labelled SUPER SECRET BIOWEAPON (ONLY COPY - NO NEED TO SEARCH ANY FURTHER).

Jake sighs. “What are you looking for?”

What are you looking for? The building is still on fire, for Christ’s sake—you should have been gone ten minutes ago. Still, your stubbornness is steadfast. “There has to be—something.”

He sweeps out an arm, gesturing to the resounding nothing around you. With wet curls stuck to his forehead, his tone veers on sardonic. “Oh? Your little spider-sense tell you that?”

“Spidey, and—and it’s not a radar, I can’t just turn it on,” you bristle. His ensuing snicker lands all wrong, and your mouth twists into a scowl. “Funny, is it? Blowing up a building?”

“Hey.” The lightness disappears from his expression. “How was I supposed to know about the gas leak?”

It’s a valid question. Still, the anger in you can’t help but flare up anyways, running on his words as if they were diesel. You bite back a retort at the last second, which isn’t enough because the resulting silence is accusatory in and of itself.

He takes a step towards you, chin raised as water continues to rain down on you both. Solid, sturdy—unyielding. The sight twists your stomach into knots, but you stand your ground, placing your hands on your hips even though it pulls painfully at a handful of your muscles. “Shit happens, bug. It’s no one’s fault—well, maybe a bit my fault, but—”

“I had her.” It’s a blatant lie, but full of conviction as it leaves your lips.

He’s nothing short of incredulous. “Did you?”

“Yes—”

Faster than your hazy mind can register it, his hand shoves at your shoulder. Not hard, but it didn’t need to be—you practically crumple, hands scrambling to find something to hold on to before you land flat on your ass, but Jake wraps an arm around your waist, steadying you.

You swat at his chest. You hate that his warmth is familiar. “Let me go.”

He counters: “What’s wrong?”

“You, asshole.”

“’m the bad guy now? You want a fight that bad?” His eyebrows cock upwards, regarding you like some unruly child.

He’s being inflammatory on purpose and it’s working. You’re an elastic band in his fingers, one that he keeps stretching and stretching and stretching until you snap. “I don’t want a fight, I want a—”

Win, you almost admit. You wanted a win, after all this time you’ve spent chasing after Doc Ock. Countless sleepless nights and lackeys thrown behind bars, only to fail in the final moments when it really mattered. The realization is debilitating, even in the confines of your own head, and so you lash out again, distracting yourself from the bitterness on your tongue by spewing it out instead.

“We’re not all out for blood, you know.” Then, because you can’t help yourself— “I’m not you, Jake.”

“Is that what this is about?” His hand tenses almost imperceptibly against your back, but you manage to catch it. Of course you do, with every sense on high alert, blood rushing in your ears. “You mad ‘cause I’m a killer?”

Something dangerous underlines his tone when he says the word and you flinch, trying to create some distance between the two of you on instinct. Jake doesn’t grant you that—his other arm comes to hold you as well, pulling you in even though you think you might suffocate in his presence.

“You knew this from the start. Don’t tell me you’re going to try to turn me in now.”

“Maybe I should,” you say in a rush, gaze steely as it meets his. For all your superhuman powers, none give you the ability to read what’s going on behind the storm in his eyes. You’re so close, you can almost feel the heat radiating off his skin, hear the words in his mouth before he even says them.

“You’re the one with the spidey-sense.” His voice is low. Somewhere in the back of your mind, through the shame and anger and desperation—you note that he’s called it by the right name this time. “You tell me. Am I a threat?”

Your heart is beating a mile a minute and your stomach is all fluttery and weird but—no. There’s no tingling at the back of your neck, no hair-raising along your arms. Petulance makes you want to lie and say yes anyways, but you can’t bring yourself to form the words. It just… isn’t true. And for some reason, you have feeling that this would be going too far, even as a rash potshot.

When you don’t respond, Jake’s expression softens, the lines of his face giving way to an understanding look that makes you feel smaller than his antagonism ever could. The fires have mostly died down now, but warm reds and oranges still flicker along the side of his jaw, in corners of his irises. His arms feel less like a cage and more like a lifeline, keeping you from drifting out to sea.

“Just—thought I finally caught her,” you mumble, and he pulls you the last few inches into a proper hug. Exhausted, you let yourself melt into his arms, the adrenaline beginning to seep away despite the cacophony of sirens in the background. “It’s been so long, Jake.”

“I know.” He doesn’t, not really—you haven’t divulged just how far this rivalry goes, but you don’t have to think very hard to realize that he’s speaking from experiences long before he ever met you. “We’ll get her next time.”

You snort softly into his suit. “What, you staying?”

It’s silly, the tinge of hopefulness that laces your voice just minutes after you’ve essentially accosted him. But Jake’s grinning when you pull back to look at him, all boyish confidence, and you nearly forget to breathe. “I could be convinced.”

Wait—what? He’s thrown you off-kilter. You—you didn’t think he’d actually— “Well—!”

At your stammering, he lets out a laugh, throwing back his head. It’s a wonderful sound, and when you flick his arm in response, there’s no real force to it.

“Well, you know what they say,” you sniff, trying to maintain your composure. “Friends close, enemies closer, and all that.”

“Right, right,” he nods gravely. The effect is severely diminished by the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. Keeping one arm around you, he starts to lead you towards an exit. “Don’t know how you’ll handle it—your spidey-sense going off all the time with me around.”

On the way out, he picks up your mask from where you discarded it, slapping it a few times against his leg to brush off the soot and ash. His own mask and hood come up to envelope his face as he hands it to you. Distantly, you wonder how his glowing white eyes would look in the dark. Probably a bit stupid, is your conclusion.

“I’m sure I can manage,” you sigh, and once you slip on your mask, he gives you a little pat on the head before you can bat him away. Jake leans away enough to avoid your attempts to tug at his hood, but at the next opportunity, he reaches over again, the little shit, hand drawing in close, and your spidey-sense, superhuman and extraordinary, it’s—

It’s never been quieter.

#moon knight x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight #jake lockley #moon knight fanfic #my writing #at time of posting i feel like dogshit ✌️#pls enjoy i am going to bed now goodnight #mk bingo 2024

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dayasusays · 2 months

Text

“loneliness as love” partly 18+

bruce wayne x fem!reader

words : 1315

tw / cw : partly sexual content, hard sex, angst, “i know who you pretend i am” stuff, reader is wearing lipstick, mention of exes

for better experience :

you’re just two lonely people trying to pretend to love each other.

as bruce fucks you, gripping your hair you moan muffledly, biting your lip; he's rough tonight, his thrusts fast and precise, hitting the sensitive spots inside. you whimper as wayne puts his fingers to your mouth and smudges your lipstick, making you lick a couple of phalanges: another fetish you don't even know where it came from.

as bruce gives you one last kiss, you close your eyes for a second and imagine that you are loved. imagine that you are not in bed with someone who comes just to fuck, but with someone you love and who loves you back.

you stare at the ceiling, trying to realize what just happened. you promised yourself last time that the next time he came over, you'd say no and tell him like it is: you don't just want sex anymore. but for some reason, you couldn't get a word out of yourself when wayne came close to you and asked how your day was, how work was today and what you had for dinner. smell him and gasp with desire in the same second; feel his hands on your waist and sigh quietly, trying to be closer; feel him inside you and almost cry at how good it felt.

you promise yourself again that you'll stop; that you'll tell him to stop when strong arms pick you up to carry you to bed.

but now, with bruce towering over you, you realize again that you can't say anything.

"i love you," you hear him say as he snuggles closer to you.

"love". wayne always whispered that worthless "love" as if he needed an excuse for all of this; when he fucked you so deep and rough, he kept whispering "love", making you moan wildly; when bruce got up, got dressed, and left, he just kept quiet. and there was no hidden "love" in his silence.

"you don't," you squeeze out, pulling away from his lips, "stop saying that. please," you sigh, your fingers lightly pulling back the material of his suit and going over it.

"you always liked it."

"and i don't like it anymore," you bite back, covering your eyes, "just stop."

and wayne nods slowly, pulling you back into the kiss.

when you open your eyes, all you see in front of you is bruce's face. beautiful, with half closed eyes and a little bit of blood; but it's bruce.

bruce wayne who comes to your house every three days to fuck you good. bruce wayne who whispers that goddamn "i love you" and it doesn't mean anything. bruce wayne you wish you could see someone else in.

you cling to his shoulders and reach for him. kissing so desperately, as if you'd suffocate without his kisses; as if he were a lifeline that would finally help you get rid of these stupid feelings. finally save you from these eternal thoughts and give you peace.

"are you okay?" bruce asks, pulling away and looking into his eyes.

you're not okay.

you know it, but you don't dare answer the question; because wayne was nothing to you. he's nothing now, he was a friend years ago, he was your first boyfriend a little earlier.

but now he's nothing. he's just a sex partner.

"what about you? are you okay?" you answer a question with a question and notice his blue eyes sparkle in the moonlight.

bruce doesn't answer either.

it all makes sense now.

you're not okay and neither is he, which is why you're here now.

in the bedroom of your apartment, kissing and trying to pretend to love each other so that this endless emptiness will just go away; no matter what ways, because it's just unbearable.

feeling unloved hurts. thinking that it will be like that for the rest of your life hurts even more.

so here you are, clinging desperately at wayne and feeling the same desperation in return as he leans closer to seal a kiss on your lips.

when you pull away, you stare again into his soft blue eyes, which are also staring into yours.

you find yourself wanting to cry as you look at bruce: the bat emblem on his suit, the bloodstains on his face, the three-day stubble, the pressed lips.

you see bruce wayne in front of you. batman. gotham hero.

you bury your forehead into his chest, squeezing him in a hug and whispering something inaudible; all he can make out is an apology.

"are you okay?" he repeats his question again, but a little softer.

"no," you say softly, pressing your cheek against his, "and you?"

he doesn't say anything.

and he has absolutely no idea how it started.

you were his friend. then you were his girlfriend. then you were his sex partner.

you broke up peacefully when you realized that love just ran out. and there was nothing wrong with that; it seemed so normal that you just decided to stay friends.

you were there for him when he was going through the most difficult moments of his life, you comforted him and you always knew when and what to say.

at one point you just slept together. and it happened again and again and again until you were distant from each other.

and bruce is sorry.

he's been sorry so many times, and he's wanted your friendship back, but it just seemed impossible.

"are you okay, bruce?"

"no," he feels like he's confessing to the worst crime in human history. "i'm not okay. we're not okay."

he's putting some of his truth into this conversation, and you can't help but agree.

you see bruce wayne in front of you, he sees you in front of him.

and it pains him to admit that when he opens his eyes, he wishes he saw someone else.

you're not her.

you're not the woman who made him feel that flutter in his chest; who kissed him on the rooftops at night; who, at one point, was everything.

"i'm sorry," you whisper, hugging him again.

"what are you apologizing for?"

"i dunno... for all of it," you chuckle bitterly, nervously running your fingers over his.

you're apologizing because you realize you want anyone but him in front of you.

"don't," bruce whispers back, leaving a kiss on the top of your head that means it's okay, "it's not your fault."

he wraps his arms around you, squeezing you as tightly as he can, and says a name that doesn't even remotely sound like yours.

"i miss her," wayne confessed.

"i know," you parry back, pulling away and kissing him again, as if that's supposed to help, "i wish i was her."

he looks into your eyes and swallows when he sees tears in them.

and you both face the ugly truth when you realize how alone you are.

so much so that you call each other when it's completely unbearable; when you need at least someone around to hug, kiss, and eventually make love have sex with.

you almost feel sick at the thought.

"i love you," he says so quietly that only you can hear; so quietly, as if he doesn't want the world to hear it, as if it's almost a secret. and from his lips it sounds like a release.

"i love you," you repeat after bruce, pulling him in for another kiss that feels like salvation.

"i love you" is like "i'll save you" as you throw life preservers to each other and don't notice you're drowning yourself.

"you" and "him" as the "we" you might have become when you bump noses before kissing and apologizing to each other.

"loneliness" as "love" as he looks into your eyes and cries for the first time in over a year.

you're two lonely people trying to pretend to love each other.

ty for reading !! 💌

#Spotify #dc comics #dc universe #writing #angst #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #batman #batman x reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x you #batman x you #y/n #smut #star

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strangersteddierthings · 9 months

Text

Steve, Gareth and Chrissy are cousins AU (sad edition) [prologue] [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Final Part]

"Oh Boom!" Steve cheers, stepping though the plants, "Bada bing, bada boom! There she is, Henderson. Skull Rock. In your face, man. In your stupid, cocky little face."

"Doesn't make sense," Dustin mutters, following after him.

"Yeah, yeah. Even with it staring you in the face, you can't admit it. Can't admit you're wrong, you butthead," Steve says, one hand on his hip as he looks up at Skull Rock.

"I concur," Eddie's voice is preceded by the thump of his landing, which causes Steve and Dustin to turn around to, "You, Dustin Henderson, are a total butthead."

"You son of a bitch!" a different, familiar voice shouts, and Steve watches, to his increasing horror, as Gareth rounds the rock Eddie just jumped off and beelines for Steve. He's too shocked to do anything other than watch as Gareth plants his palms to Steve's chest and shoves.

Steve goes down hard, arms pinwheeling. He hears several people call his name but the white noise his brain is generating has blocked out everything except Gareth. Gareth, who stands before him, chest heaving in his anger, hand back to his sides and fists clenched.

"Where were you!?" Gareth screams at him, and Steve can see tears threatening to fall. "Where the fuck have you been?"

"Excuse me, but who are you?" Robin asks, stepping forward and into Steve's periphery. The white noise quiets just a bit as he watches Robin whip to Eddie. "Who is he?"

Eddie says something back, but Steve doesn't fully hear it before Gareth has taken a step forward, closer, pulling all his attention again and Gareth asks again, quietly, "Where were you?"

Steve swallows, looking Gareth up and down. He's dirty, much like Eddie, and not wearing shoes. Why isn't he wearing shoes? What happened to them? He looks back up to Gareth's face. To the anger he can see, is sure everyone else can see, too. But, also, to the sorrow, the fear, the hurt underneath it all. Steve opens his mouth, a thousand questions on his tongue. Where are your shoes? How did you get here? When? I tried to keep you out of this, I wanted to keep you out of this. Why are you here? But, instead, what comes out is, "I'm sorry."

Those words seem to break Gareth. A choked off sob rips from his throat and he drops to his knees, curling in on himself. Steve, always protective, moves to comfort him at the same time as Eddie does but Eddie beats him there, kneeling down to be at Gareth's side, concern etched in every line of him. Eddie places a hand on Gareth's back, near his shoulder, rubbing small, soothing circles there.

It makes something squeeze deep inside of him, to see Eddie caring for Gareth so much, even as Eddie is now glaring at Steve in defense of whatever slight he thinks Steve has caused. Or maybe he knows. Maybe Gareth told him. Told him how Steve is the worst cousin in the world, failed to protect Chrissy. Failed Gareth, too, since he's here, barefoot in the middle of the goddamn woods instead of safe in his home.

Robin's arm hooking under Steve's own breaks him from his thoughts. He lets Robin help him stand, and watches as Eddie does the same for Gareth, and for a moment, the whole forest is quiet.

But they have Dustin with them, so that doesn't last long. "Can someone explain what the hell is going on? Why's Gareth here?"

Steve doesn't even have it in himself to scold Dustin for his language.

Eddie and Gareth exchange looks, a silent communication so like how he is with Robin that it gut-punches him, and then Eddie says, "it's, uhh, quite a story."

"Start telling it, then," Nancy says gently but still with her usual no nonsense undertone.

They get a story told by both. When Eddie pauses, Gareth picks up the tale, and the vice versa. When Gareth gets choked with emotion, such as explaining that Chrissy is his cousin, Eddie takes over and explains. He says nothing about Steve, doesn't even imply he knows more, so... maybe Gareth hasn't told him Steve is also his cousin?

Then they talk about Patrick and Nancy wants to know the time, and soon it's back to dealing with the Upside Down. Something's up with Dustin's compass they have to go investigate now, and Steve thinks everyone's forgotten the weird tension of Gareth shoving him down and demanding to know where he's been.

Everyone but Robin, it seems, who hangs back to ask about it as they follow Dustin and his broken compass.

"So, how do you know Gareth?" Robin asks, uncertain.

Steve frowns at the back of Gareth's head, where he walks ahead with Dustin and Eddie. "He's my cousin."

"Oh!" Robin's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, looking from Gareth to Steve, as if she can spot a family resemblance from the back of Gareth's head. "How did I not know that?"

"Gareth asked to pretend we weren't related when he started high school," Steve shrugs. "Was afraid it would ruin his 'street cred'."

"What a nerd."

"Right?" Steve chuckles at that and they walk in silence for a bit longer before Robin gasps like she's dying. A realization.

"Steve," she breaths out, a hand flying out to grab onto Steve's shoulder in an almost painful grip. He's so glad she's keeping quiet, as she whispers, "was Chrissy your cousin, too?"

Steve swallows and nods.

"Steve, I-"

"No. Not now. Not the time," Steve cuts her off, prying his hand from her arm. "Please, Robbie. I can't think about that now. Please."

Robin doesn't look happy about the development but she gives a nod, swallowing around the lump in her throat now.

#steve‚ gareth‚ and chrissy are cousins au #my fic #and then canon proceeds as normal #robin nancy eddie and steve in the boat #because both eddie and steve were like 'NO' when gareth tries to get in the boat #they demand he stay with the kids 'for their protection'#gareth glares at them the whole time they're rowing away #when dustin and lucas stay silent after max demands to look through the binoculars when steve's hairiness gets mentioned #gareth pretends to gag and throw up #otherwise #canon proceeds as normal until the next part just with gareth added to the kids team

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goodnightmemes · 1 year

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KNIVES OUT (2019) SENTENCE STARTERS

❛ Anything you need. You’re part of this family. ❜

❛ Kids today, with the internet. It’s amazing. ❜

❛ I read a tweet about a New Yorker article about you. ❜

❛ I’m here at the behest of a client. ❜

❛ You will find me a respectful, quiet, passive observer of the truth. ❜

❛ Are you baiting me? ❜

❛ You think I am dumb enough to be baited into talking family business. ❜

❛ This is not how I wanted to have this conversation. ❜

❛ He’s always been the black sheep of the family. ❜

❛ Are you, goddamn, insane? ❜

❛ You tell her or I will! ❜

❛ I know it’ll hurt, but it’s all for the best. ❜

❛ I expect it’s going to be about something, if not extraordinary, then at least interesting. ❜

❛ Does having a kind heart make you a good nurse? ❜

❛ Just the thought of lying, yeah, it makes me puke. ❜

❛ Have you seen her insta? She’s an influencer. ❜

❛ Can I wait inside? I feel like I shouldn’t be here. ❜

❛ So, somebody suspects foul play. ❜

❛ It makes no damn sense. Compels me though. ❜

❛ I don’t know why we keep going over this. ❜

❛ Physical evidence can tell a clear story with a forked tongue. ❜

❛ Can you just take your goddamn medicine and go to bed? ❜

❛ You really love drama, huh? ❜

❛ Why can’t I beat you at this game? ❜

❛ Such a bad loser you are. ❜

❛ There’s so much of me in that kid. ❜

❛ Playing life like a game without consequence, until you can’t tell the difference between a stage prop and a real knife. ❜

❛ I don’t fear death. ❜

❛ I don’t fear death. But, oh God, I’d like to fix some of this before I go. ❜

❛ Hey. You had a long day. You wanna do drugs? ❜

❛ I messed up. ❜

❛ You know, this is an interesting and efficient method of murder. I need to write this down. ❜

❛ There is no time, you have to listen! ❜

❛ If what you said is true, I’m gone, there’s no saving me. ❜

❛ But you have to do exactly what I tell you. ❜

❛ Will you do this? This last thing. For me. ❜

❛ What do you want me to do? ❜

❛ It sounds crazy, but it will work. ❜

❛ Don’t lie. Tell fragments of the truth. ❜

❛ I keep waiting for the big reveal, where it all makes sense. Wouldn’t that be nice? ❜

❛ Jesus, I’m gonna disappear until the politics talk is done. ❜

❛ Something is afoot with this whole affair. I know it, and I believe you know it too. ❜

❛ I trust your kind heart. ❜

❛ Be it cruel or comforting, this machine unerringly arrives at the truth. ❜

❛ You do as I say and everything will be just fine. ❜

❛ Best judge of character is a dog. ❜

❛ I don’t feel like talking. I’m distraught. ❜

❛ People grieve in different ways. ❜

❛ I don’t know what any of that means. ❜

❛ Now, you heard something. Spill it. ❜

❛ Maybe this might finally make you grow up. ❜

❛ This might be the best thing that could ever happen to you. ❜

❛ Nothing good is ever easy. ❜

❛ Up your ass. ❜

❛ Matter of fact - eat shit, how’s that? ❜

❛ The game is afoot, eh Watson? ❜

❛ Please accept it with grace and without bitterness. But do accept it. ❜

❛ You little bitch! ❜

❛ Did you know about this? Were you in this from the beginning? ❜

❛ Were you boinking my father? ❜

❛ In the meantime I’d maybe run. ❜

❛ I’m not on Twitter anymore. ❜

❛ You look like you’re gonna pass out. Have you eaten anything today? ❜

❛ I know I shouldn’t say this out loud, but when he told me, I… Jesus, I coulda killed him. ❜

❛ You asshole. ❜

❛ Tell me everything. ❜

❛ There is much that remains unclear. ❜

❛ I suspect foul play. ❜

❛ I have eliminated no suspects. ❜

❛ You’ve come this far. Let me help you go all the way. ❜

❛ What’s going on? This isn’t you. ❜

❛ You should do whatever you think is right. ❜

❛ You have to make things right. ❜

❛ I want you to know I’m gonna take care of you. ❜

❛ You lay low for a couple of days. Wait for this investigation to blow over, and it will. ❜

❛ Are we rich? ❜

❛ Why is grief the providence of youth? ❜

❛ I’d imagine that age deepens all feelings. Including grief. ❜

❛ One thing I assume of age is weariness. Damned if I don’t get more tired every day. ❜

❛ I think you have something you wanna tell me. ❜

❛ I don’t like any of this. ❜

❛ What kind of blackmail scheme is this? ❜

❛ You regret helping me yet? ❜

❛ Oh my God. I’m just pure adrenaline right now, I feel like I swallowed bees. ❜

❛ That was the dumbest car chase of all time. ❜

❛ Strange case from the start. ❜

❛ Listen, I don’t know what you want. Whatever it is, we can work it out. ❜

❛ I don’t want any more surprises. ❜

❛ God, you’re not much of a detective, are you? ❜

❛ You make a pretty lousy murderer. ❜

❛ You’re a pack of vultures at the feast. ❜

❛ Is anybody else confused? ❜

❛ I’m so sorry. I told them everything, I figured it was up. I’m sorry. ❜

❛ You shared a love of twisting the knife into one another. ❜

❛ I’m warning you! ❜

❛ You won’t get away with this. ❜

❛ A twisted web. And we are not finished untangling it. Not yet. ❜

❛ This is stoopid with two o’s. ❜

❛ You don’t have a shred of evidence. You’re just spinning a fairy tale. ❜

❛ In for a penny, in for a pound. ❜

❛ I knew you were a no good son of a bitch! ❜

❛ And then you’ll see just how much hell I can wreak on your life. ❜

❛ You vicious little bitch! ❜

❛ What the shit!? ❜

❛ I want you to remember something that’s very important: you won not by playing the game his way, but yours. ❜

❛ You’re a good person. ❜

❛ I have my own opinion. But I have a feeling you’ll follow your heart. ❜

#rp meme #sentence starters #rp sentence meme #sentence meme #rp prompt #roleplay meme #roleplay prompts #sentence starter meme #rp memes #rp prompts #*movie

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ladyzirkonia · 1 year

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Axe Woves and his promotion from boyfriend to husband material.

I know I've mentioned it here and there, however, I'd like to get my thoughts and feelings that are going around in my head out in one post again.

I've got a crush on this men directly when he first appeared this season. I know that some found and still find him unlikable because of his statements and behavior. I think it's a good expression of where he comes from and how he was socialized and is in no way more despicable than the views Din's covert has, basically they are two extreme views of one culture.

Axe belongs to the ''modern'' Mandalorians who were born on Mandalore and who fought for Mandalore during the Purge. They have a different understanding of being Mandalorians than the followers of the old way. Both groups exclude the other, for different reasons, because of how they were taught. I don't want to justify his behavior, but I can understand there being animosity and mistrust, as I'm sure he's proud of who he is and that he fought for Mandalore while the people of the tribe were hiding on Concordia.

He insists on the importance of the darksaber to rule Mandalore, again an expression of what they must have been taught, though his attitude towards it will change greatly as we all know. His characterization and character development this season is wonderful, and I know I'm going to upset some people, but I think it's much better and more developed than Din Djarin's this season. That's exactly what I would have wanted for him.

He has a certain arrogance and doesn't hesitate for a second to fight both Bo-Katan and Paz. Others may call this immature, I would say it is a Mandalorian tradition to settle conflicts with a fight and I love how reckless he is even though he is probably aware that he will most likely get his ass kicked.

And I don't know exactly why, but I loved the scene with him and the forbidden lovers and his statement, ''I know it was for love.'' He is not heartless, he has a sense for the feelings of others in a way, but business is business and despite everything he handles everything calmly and without violence.

I know he acted like a smug asshole with Paz, but I can't deny that I was very amused by the scene, even if others find it problematic. And it just repeats the differences and conflicts of the two groups and it's all the more beautiful how they are later overcome. And I can't hide the fact that it's incredibly sexy how this man just doesn't have a shred of respect and fear for this mountain of man who could probably just stomp him into the ground.

But who knew what would become of this sexy, arrogant, and smug man in the season finale? Yes I got fooled like many others, I really thought he could be a spy and die, but we couldn't have been more wrong, I'm so sorry my love!

Just to start with how he just flies out into space with a damn jet pack without hesitation just to warn his sisters and brothers. He shows off his leadership skills on the Light Cruiser as he evacuates it and calls on the rest of the Mandalorians to help Bo-Katan. Only to be left alone to fight the incoming Tie Interceptors and then ship the damn ship to the planet. Without hesitation, even though he must have known he could get killed like a goddamn hero.

But best of all, he's not stupid enough to just sacrifice himself, bless the Mandalorians and their jetpacks. How he just flees the ship at the last second and lets it head for the damn base and is partly responsible for the fact that Moff Gideon ultimately dies is just great!

And the last scene, how he's standing there next to Ragnar and he's the one raising his voice and cheering for everyone, I love it. And the thought that he could be the one to take care of Ragnar from now on, despite the discord between him and his father, just melted my heart. This man has had such incredible character development this season and has become such a badass and important character that he's the only person to fall in love with, right?

Did I also make the post a bit to use all the pictures and GIF's again, because of course he looks super good and sexy and I can't get enough of looking at him? Yes maybe something. And people? We need more of these please!

This is the way and for Mandalore!

Screenshots are mine and GIF's from the wonderful @abnerkrill @tommymilller @itberice @providence-park

Thank you for your service ladies and gentleman.

#axe woves #the mandalorian #the mandalorian season 3 #the mandalorian spoiler #axe woves appreciation post #I love my husband #from boyfriend to husband #that fine mandalorian man #star wars #ragnar vizsla #paz vizsla

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dichromaticdyke · 8 months

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hey another thing since my brain is broken and i have an MA in literature i'm gonna analyze the lyrics of "aortic desecration" and "SOS."

under the cut this time since last time my brain vomited a bunch of aotd analysis it went on for way too long sorry.

but seriously i wrote a fuckton here over the course of two sleep deprived sessions, so you'll either think i'm a madman or a divine genius.

okay for simplicity, "aortic desecration" lyrics are gna be in red and "SOS" lyrics r gna be in green. i hope tumblr made those colors distinct enough for ppl with colorblindness.

[intro] we're all going to die [x3] eventually [verse 1] toxic waste, acidic paste degradation crushed by a plane, driven insane mutilation cranial glitch dumped in a ditch gangrenous stitch

this is already a lot. nathan's coming at this with the idea that he has to write the most brutal and fucked up song of all time, so he just reminds everyone of their mortality and lists a fuck ton of ways that might happen (many of which do happen during the performance of this song). but even his point of adding eventually after saying how everyone wil die is interesting—it's like that was also tacked on during the performance like, "yeah but not today please haha." not a whole lot to go into here, except the way the first verse ends.

failure has entered your soul

now first of all, some sources have this line as "madness has entered your soul," but i've only ever heard "failure." and i think that makes sense—before this song even started, nathan realized that he wrote the wrong song but it was too late. i think once he got through the majority of the first verse, he went off-script, so to speak, and instead of singing about death, he started singing about realizing his own failure and mistake and how that was about to lead to the apocalypse. this continues into the next verse

[verse 2] how could you be so fucking naive? you fled for refuge and fell to your knees you spoke the words and brandished your heart you left yourself open to be torn apart, torn apart

hi brendon small i would like some recompense. he's speaking exactly to himself, how he was so naive to think that a song of salvation would be a song of death, how he was running from everyone and tried to do this all on his own. he sang about death because that was what he believed was the only thing he knew how to do, he refused to actually do some introspection and figure out what salvation was. and now here he is.

[chorus] aortic desecration how could i be so wrong? disemboweled publicly this is the dying song [bridge] look out bleed [x8] [chorus] [outro] aortic desecration atrial annihilation pulmonic devestation

so this chorus and the outro are fun for me because they're doing that thing that brutal death bands do where they just throw in a bunch of big words that sound scary and fucked up. and they are! aortic desecration essentially refers to a violation of the heart, since the aorta is the main part of the circulatory system and it's been desecrated. nathan broke his own goddamn heart by doing exactly what he feared—causing the apocalypse. he says as much in asking how he could be so wrong? as for being disemboweled publicly, well, here's what my literature MA ass immediately thought of. in sylvia plath's The Bell Jar, she writes about being suicidal and depressed, and one of the ways she considers killing herself is by disemboweling herself in her bathtub. this also reminded me of the way the god character killed himself in the film Begotten. so my initial thought, as gruesome as it is, is that nathan has kinda metaphorically killed himself in front of the whole world by singing the song that he knew was wrong. historically speaking, disemboweling people while still alive was also a form of torture and capital punishment, so that checks out. then he says "this is the dying song," fully recognizing what he's done. the final lyrics of the song once again refer to fucked up shit happening to the heart, with the atria being your heart's upper chambers, and "pulmonary" referring to your lungs, though typically in the sense of bloodflow.

then of course we get him chanting for the world to bleed, but also proclaiming, "look out." now at first i thought this was just kind of an ad lib—it's not uncommon in music to have lyrics like that that are added just to help the flow but don't actually add much to the content of the words. i don't think this is the case especially when comparing this to "SOS," but for now i'll start by just pointing out that "look out" very easily could've doubled in meaning as being a warning to the world. like, this isn't just fun and games any more—actually look out, you're actually going to die.

as for "SOS"...

[verse] last breath skyward dark sign closing line no time to mend this life take this hand this last time

alright this is pretty straightforward. this is their last chance to get it right, if it isn't too late already. but there's also that line of "skyward," which is the first instance in this song of recognizing the doomstar itself. there's no mention of the doomstar at all in "aortic desecration," which is kinda strange if you think about it. not even in the dying song is there an acknowledgement of why the apocalypse might be happening, mainly because the dying song—once nathan realizes what it is anyway—is primarily about hopelessness and fucking up. why even acknowledge the greater power at work when this is nathan's fault (in the context of the song)? but instead nathan acknowledges that the focus has to be on the doomstar, but also on everyone coming together and standing against this force that is greater than all of them. this song immediately establishes the haste in what they're doing, immediately countering the deflection in the dying song. nathan tried making the dying song work by saying, "we're all going to die eventually," but nathan here has the perspective to realize, no. people will die now, are dying now, it might already be too late to fix this, but dammit they're not giving up yet. [chorus] we're the shadows of the infinite we stand alive we're nothing but the soil of time beasts in the night reach with my open hand bound for all time in the shadows of the blazing star fused, we're the light

"shadows of the infinite" is an acknowledgement of their godlike powers, which they've either been completely ignorant to during the majority of the series or just didn't want to admit (think back to "how can i be a hero?" when none of them wanted to step up and do what they had to do). yet despite this acknowledgement of their divinity, their power, they are also recognizing that they are still just people. they can't do anything by themselves, they have to work with other forces. being "nothing but the soil of time" is a reference to being a gear in the wheel of the klok—clock, time, etc., yet also being "beasts in the night" refers to this unhinged power and danger they still hold. "reach with my open hand" is the most obvious line, with the animation in this scene directly reminding us of nathan's conversation with the whale prophet. once again, a reference to the doomstar, and the final line foreshadows nathan using the dethlights alongside both dethklok and the army of the doomstar. these are the people that must work together with this divine power to take out something greater.

it's also worth noting that while the official line seems to be "fused, we're the light," i can ALSO hear it is "fused with the light." so it can be interpreted either as, nathan and the band and the army of the doomstar all coming together to becoming the light/dethlights, or nathan and the band and the army of the doomstar being fused with the light/dethlights. it's not that much of a difference i guess, but a slight different implication of whether or not they themselves are the light or if the light is a separate entity. [bridge] now rise (rise) [x8] movin' out, movin' out [chorus]

this is the part that convinced me to make this a comparison. this is a direct parallel and contrast to the bridge in "aortic desecration," with calls to bleed being replaced with calls to rise. they even chant it the same number of times, guys idk what to tell you. PLUS there's an echo repeat of "rise" throughout this bridge, and while it could very well be a literal echo, who else wants to believe it was all the other members of dethklok singing it? kinda like the "die, die" in the duncan hills jingle? and then the "ad lib" of "look out" is instead replaced with "movin' out." instead of nathan telling everyone to run away, be watchful, be fearful, he's calling on them to come with him and fight with him.

have i talked enough about how brendon small is a fucking genius?

plus based on a few shots from this performance during aotd, i think toki might have been playing lead. which would be super cool, because this would make this the second song that is confirmed to have toki in the lead, the other being "blazing star."

anyway i've fooled you all because now i wanna talk about "blazing star." i know this song has been out for a decade now and has been analyzed a bunch, but i wanna look at it specifically now with the context of the movie.

first off, before i get into the analysis, i'm pretty sure the performance of "blazing star" at the end of the doomstar requiem never happened. i think it was purely non-diegetic, just like half the songs in this whole opera, but it was presented as a proper dethklok song to symbolize the band being reunited and looking towards their next big hurdle of the actual metalocalypse. my main reason for thinking this is that the idea that dethklok saved toki, wrote this song, performed it for the world while announcing, "hey toki's back and he's okay," is DIRECTLY in contrast with the opening scene of aotd where the band makes their first public appearance since saving toki and a standard dethklok performance trigger's nathan's ptsd. i know metalocalypse isn't known for continuity, but they would've mentioned dethklok having a performance post-rescue. and nathan in aotd is so ready to not face his destiny, there's no way he would write and perform a song about exactly that. he's also adamant that he doesn't sing about hope or life, but that's exactly what "blazing star" is about.

enough preamble let's look at that song.

[verse 1, nathan] the glowing clouds, the diamond's birth the spiral cluster descends to earth the nebulas conspire to bring the signifier and the death of a king

already with more context from aotd, i'm obsessed with this. it's setting up the doomstar and the destiny of the doomstar being either the death of salacia or of nathan. i haven't spoken yet about the parallels between nathan and salacia, that's something that's going to take a WHILE to work out, but the long and short of it is, they're powerful beings who can only achieve their full power when being reunited with four other souls/people. GUYS. they are very clearly meant to parallel each other. knowing now that the doomstar is a portal meant to reunite salacia with the "four souls," it's unlikely that this "death of a king" is inherently meant to refer to salacia, because the doomstar would have to be inherently anti-salacia, which it's not. at that, it seems like this "king" is probably meant to be nathan, or all of dethklok, since it's through their deaths that salacia would be reunited and the metalocalypse would happen. it's hard to tell tbh, the doomstar is a neutral figure—all we know is that it can bring death, and it holds power that other figures can harness.

i'm a man with a tortured sight i fear this dream will end tonight the water beasts continue singing we try to wake but we're not dreaming

THIS i find incredibly fascinating. it's no secret at this point that nathan had been dreaming about the whale prophet for who knows how long, and this is very clearly referring to that. the first line of this section even foreshadows nathan being the only one to remember the night they rescued toki. what i find interesting is the contrast between nathan "fear[ing] this dream will end" but also "try[ing] to wake but [isn't] dreaming." these are directly contradictory at first glance—he's scared of this dream ending, but he also wants to wake up? unless these are two completely different dreams.

the first half of aotd, nathan, pickles, skwisgaar, and murderface aren't rescuing toki, aren't even letting themselves think about him. they're only focusing on partying around the world, and they sing a whole song about how they love being useless billionaires and don't want to be heroes OR regular jackoffs. i think that's the first dream—being DETHKLOK, having no problems, doing whatever they want, that's the dream nathan is scared is ending. because after that night of rescuing toki, of harnessing the dethlights, everything has gotten so real. they can't ignore it anymore.

at the same time, realizing that there are greater forces out there trying to destroy the world, trying to use them to destroy the world, everything with the church of the black klok—that must feel like a dream. that's the dream he wants to wake up from.

he wants to stay in his dream of being rich and powerful, but he doesn't want to be stuck in the dream—the nightmare—of the literal apocalypse.

i'm gonna find you i'm running out of time i gotta play this part this is my lot in life with this power i am endowed the end is coming so bring it on now

again, another reason i don't believe this song was diegetic. this is the first moment of clarity he had about the metalocalypse, about how he had to do something about it, whether he wanted it or not. again, in the beginning of aotd, he had no interest in this. i guess it's possible he went back and forth on that (i wouldn't be too surprised), but again, this is a pretty hopeful message, all things considered. he even says "bring it on" to the fucking apocalypse. tell me again about how you don't write songs about hope, nate. i only buy that if he never wrote and performed this song.

[verse 2, pickles] oh the keeper wields his scythe oh you gotta kiss this life goodbye there is another place beyond we'll meet in time and i will greet you all in the next life, yeah

having pickles sing in general is based, but i've never fully understood why he was in this song. like if anything, this song feels like the kind of ballad that would have EACH member of dethklok sing a little bit, so it's strange to have just pickles and nate. it gets less strange with the hindsight of aotd, where their relationship was the primary emotional focus. but let's actually look at what pickles is saying here. it's pretty standard stuff: death is looming, but if worst comes to worst we'll be together in the afterlife.

i wanna fucking throw up (positive). what was that offdensen said to pickles in aotd? "be a true friend, even if it gets messy." pickles's verse is NOTHING but, "hey nate things are getting bad but i'll always be with you." I'M NOT REACHING THAT'S ALL THIS IS.

[chorus, nathan] the blazing star, it burns so bright the darkened power, the dethly light bring it on now, this is our time we're the new regime, together we'll fight

again, standard stuff. doomstar, dethlights, fighting together. all things considered, this could have been the song of salvation. there's not much i can really say other than the fact that since it wasn't, it must not exist in the metalocalypse world, right?

toki had the solo on this song. i don't have to speculate for that, it's made abundantly clear with the animation in the ending sequence of the doomstar requiem. he had the solo because this whole song is about the band coming together to face something greater than them, and they wouldn't have had the power to do that if they didn't have toki with them. it's also them recognizing the worth toki has in the band—at first, it seemed like his worth was just making skwisgaar play better (that was certainly the implication at the end of "the duel"), but it's greater than that.

let's say i'm right—let's say i'm right and toki also had the lead/solo during "SOS." what does that tell you that toki is granted the opportunity ot have the lead SPECIFICALLY DURING SONGS OF HOPE AND CAMARADERIE?? he, much like murderface, is foundational to the band. murderface is the voice of dissent, toki is the voice of hope.

and let's say i'm wrong, and toki only had a solo during the song that doesn't actually exist. that's fine too, because if "blazing star" is meant to be a symbolic, non-diegetic song, then that still proves my point of toki being foundational to the band ("even if you don'ts do nothings") and, more importantly, their divine power.

wow that was a lot if you got to the end pls like comment and subscribe.

#Metalocalypse #Army of the Doomstar #Dethklok #Nathan Explosion #Pickles the Drummer #Toki Wartooth #dichromaticdyke.exe #written in a fit of divine madness

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annabelle--cane · 8 months

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at the risk of sounding Really Bad and with the caveat that I mean this in the most pro vaccine pro taking Covid extremely seriously way possible. I think conflating mental health/personal hobbies and habits with physical health and wellness in the time of a literal plague is actually part of why we are where we are. The example of opting out of treating a broken bone that you used is the perfect metaphor because that’s something that mostly effects the person with the broken bone. But if you’re treating every goddamn thing a person can do like it’s potentially viral it makes it easy to sound reasonable to advocate for a lot of vigilance against individual choice. Is this totally off base? do I sound like a reactionary dipshit conspiracy theorist right now? Just… there’s something here right??

even if that isn't the total root cause, I definitely think you're onto something. covid is literally a deadly and disabling viral disease, so the logic of "your actions regarding this impact others" makes total sense, but I think a lot of people took that language and framework and just ran with it, hoping that alluding to a deadly and disabling viral disease would lend credence to their arguments about mental health and personal decisions.

for example, I am constantly thinking about this take I saw on a post about drug decrim in december 2021. it's so special and dear to my heart, it makes no fucking sense at all. the only copy of the screenshot I still have saved is just the tail end of it and it has my annotations, so bear with me.

first, just for a moment, I love the complete breakdown of internal logic. we need to end the stigma around drug abuse but I think using heroin is exactly like being anti-vaxx. we should decriminalize all drugs but you'd have to be craaaazay to think that legalizing them is okay. wait until this person learns that some addiction treatment programs include prescribing opioids as a harm reduction measure.

second, using heroin is in no way like being anti-vaxx oh my god, and this person just can't tell. they are explicitly applying viral disease logic to mental illness* and choices about individual bodily autonomy. I don't want to minimize the pain and distress that can come from having a loved one with a substance use disorder, but in no world is it the same thing as refusing to go to cvs a few times to get a free vaccine against, once again, a deadly and disabling viral disease. groundbreaking leftist take: drug use makes you a hazard and drain on society and honestlyyyy you should think about the consequences of your actions before choosing to become an addict :/

I don't have screenshot for this next example, but I've also seen this language and mindset particularly come up a lot in discussions about "bimboism," makeup, and cosmetic surgery. I've seen several discussion threads where a woman finally just says "look, I'm adult, I've thought about this, I've interrogated myself, and ultimately I still want to do it and I can do what I want with my body" and the comeback to usually is "are you stupid? this isn't just about you, you're a member of a society who inherently expresses your ideology through your choices. the personal is political, stop being so individualistic. what will young girls think when they see you in a miniskirt calling yourself a slut?"

again, the final point that's meant to win the argument is that your choices about your body aren't fundamentally your own but Society's, because other people can look at your body and have feelings about it, they may even want to emulate it. for an added bonus, this one doesn't just use viral disease logic, but also borrows heavily and directly from the really basic conservative idea that women are less people and more living mannequins that you can dress up and use to show off the ideals of your social group. you can't wear that, men might see you and think you're a hussy and then it'll be your fault when they harass other women, little girls might see you and copy you like mindless drones.

*obligatory asides that plenty of people can recreationally use substances without being addicted and they're also fine + I know that classifying addiction as a mental illness is a hotly debated topic, especially in antipsych contexts, but that's a whole different can of worms to the topic at hand.

#answered #anons #id in alt text

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kitcatcrowley · 7 months

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I haven’t seen many people talking about the implications of cap’s death on his first day as a ghost, so here is my emotionally damaging take on it!!

The fact that it was so sudden, that we saw all the other ghosts in the front courtyard at the start of the flashback, and of course that they didn’t already know what happened in s5 - means none of the others were there to welcome cap as he died. He would’ve gotten up on his own, confused about why everyone in the party was panicking and ignoring him. Then seeing his own body and freaking out, confused. The whole reason (its pretty likely) he came back to the house was to find havers, and now he’s stood right next to him, but it’s too late.

He doesn’t even see him.

Doesn’t hear him. Doesn’t reply. Doesn’t even look at cap.

And cap is left following the soldiers around wondering whats going on. In all the commotion of the party, the other ghosts probably didn’t even notice that someone has died until a medic/police etc arrives outside, or when the body is removed from the house. And only then, later on in the middle of all the panic, will cap come across these strange people with strange clothes and voices, but who are the only ones now willing to speak to him. They tell him truths which make no sense. He was fine this morning! There’s nothing visibly wrong with him- he might’ve thought he was hallucinating after hitting his head on the ground!

We know that the other ghosts never found out his name or exactly how he died. So cap must’ve been so shocked by these events that he refused to tell the others anything about himself, or what had happened in the house that day. He was probably too distracted trying to get the other soldiers (particularly havers) to notice him before they left the house.

Imagine how devastating it must’ve been to watch his first love leave without him at the end of the day, after all the effort he’d made to find him again. He’s finally able to speak, but no one can hear him.

He might’ve tried to chase havers out the house as he drove away, begging him to answer, but of course he’d be unable to follow him all the way- AGAIN! Once again, havers leaves him while the captain is trapped inside that house, forever.

I can also imagine the captain noticing the upside down medal still on his jacket - a constant reminder of his percieved cowardice - and trying to throw that thing away SO MANY TIMES (like thomas with his love letter). And eventually just having to accept that he could never get away from this reminder of what he’d done.

This last bit is more of a personal headcannon, but i think it pretty reasonably could’ve happened.

No matter how close cap & havers actually were (possibly they barely knew each other- we’ll never actually know), it was probably PRETTY GODDAMN TRAUMATISING to watch a guy die in your arms, knowing he was only there in the first place bc he was trying find you (and failed). And that you’re not allowed to show any sign of caring - it would lead to some very dangerous questions from the other soldiers. So i expect havers would’ve taken himself away somewhere, had a little moment where no one could see how upset he was, taken some time to process what happened. And cap might’ve sat there beside him, trying to make sense of it himself. Sat side by side but unable to communicate.

Each in their own world, together but totally alone.

Havers can’t tell a soul what really happened for fear of getting thrown in prison to rot. Cap feels too ashamed to say any of it out loud, and doesn’t for almost 80 years.

It’s the most tragic ending they could’ve POSSIBLY MADE. BEN WILLBOND YOU ARE PAYING FOR MY THERAPY-

#bbc ghosts #bbc ghosts series 5 #bbc ghosts spoilers #bbc ghosts s5 #the captain #the captain bbc ghosts #ghosts spoilers #the captain ghosts #capvers #bbc ghosts theories #s5 gave me severe emotional damage #no seriously help me my brain is so

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necros-writing-stuff · 9 months

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Eden's new spouse had a diary on them when he took them. Spouse doesn't write in the diary for a bit at first while at the cabin, then starts writing again. Eden's spouse is pretty quiet, so they get curious. Eden reads the diary, and there are a bunch of entries about how awful life was and what they needed to do to survive, then spouse starts writing again and it's all about how much better life is now, and how much they love and appreciate Eden. Cue feels.

Brief, non-specific mentions of types of abuse PC faced growing up mentioned. Other than that, pretty fluffy (with some horny strewn throughout):

Eden doesn't always come back home this early from hunts. This one, however, went pretty badly when he'd stumbled across another hunter's old metal trap and cut his forearm. Of course he'd left his cleaning shit back at the cabin. It was just one of those days where nothing seemed to go right.

You'd seemed frazzled as you buzzed around him, still too quiet to really ask if you could help but the worry obvious in your eyes. That's when he noticed the poorly hidden notebook. You'd tried to put it behind the drawer, but in your haste to appear normal it'd fallen from its hiding spot and Eden finally discovered your little secret.

He kept his discovery to himself. Best that you wouldn't know so that you wouldn't change the hiding spot and Eden would be able to read future updates you wrote.

The chance to find out what the book entailed came early the next morning. Eden had an excuse to laze around a bit with his healing arm, but you were up and out to do chores. He didn't know what to expect. Plans to run away? Gorey scribbles of his head on a pike? Confessions of love for another?

The truth was somehow worse, yet far better.

The hunter's throat had a lump growing in it the further he read. It was a diary of sorts, detailing life at the orphanage before you were taken by Eden. He couldn't read too much of it, every hit and insult dredging up memories of his own he'd rather stay buried. His stomach flipped when he got to the sexual abuse. Goddamn it Bailey. Of all people, he should know better.

Despite the horrific details, there was a hopeful tone to the words he read. A tone that made sense as he continued to read. You'd written all of this after having been at the cabin for a while, having settled in and been allowed the freedom to use Eden's things as your own. Part of him was peeved he'd lost out on using a perfectly fine note book, but it was worth the words he had before him.

"I feel safe here. I didn't think I would ever know that feeling again, but I do now. Eden keeps me happy - which is still strange some days because he did sort of kidnap me. And he was terrifying. But with every new day I just can't help but feel like I might be starting to love him? Just a little bit? Maybe it's just Stockholm Syndrome."

That was just one entrance from three months ago. The trend continued.

"Yeah no, definitely lust at least. Caught myself almost drooling at him today while he was chopping wood, didn't even stop staring when he saw me. Ahhhh I must look like a freak to him sometimes. Well ya get what ya didn't pay for mister!"

The hunter couldn't help but chuckle at that. Though his cheeks grew hot from the thought that you'd been oggling him so. He'd have to remember to tale his shirt off while getting firewood more often.

"It's so fucking stupid, but every damn time he lets me sit in his lap and he reads to me I forget everything else ever existing. It's just me and him and the story he's reading, and I never feel so content anywhere else. Well, except maybe when we're doing it. He's getting really good when he goes down on me these days, I only wish he'd do it more often. I think I might have scared him by how hard I pulled his hair last time?"

More oral... yup he can certainly remember to do that. And no, it hadn't scared him at all when you'd pulled on his hair. It had almost made him finish in his pants before he could get to fucking you properly, actually. Hence why he didn't let you do it anymore.

There were more entries that Eden had to save for later, carefully placing your book back into its place and then finally joining you outside to do his share of the chores. A bubbly feeling rose in his chest as he worked, each time he caught your eyes on him only having him remember the words you'd written about finding it a turn on to watch him do jobs around the cabin.

It had been a long time since you'd felt safe. It had been a longer time since Eden had felt desirable. Since he'd felt accepted and loved.

Each day he'd find the time to check if you'd written something new. It was meant to be private, but he felt as though he needed to hear your praise. It became a crutch, a way to tell how the relationship was due to your withdrawn nature. You still didn't speak up very often. The hunter didn't hear your voice as much as he'd like to, so your written word had to fill the void. And it did, greatly.

Each and every compliment made his cheeks grow hot, his back a little straighter and his head was held a little higher. Every small declaration of love felt to be the size of Jupiter. Every moment of frustration endearing. He'd even been using the bedroom tips you had for him - carefully, of course. Didn't want you catching on.

You would eventually. You'd learn that he was reading your diary. But for now, Eden got to enjoy you in his own private way, too.

#spill your guts #wayfare-angel #eden the hunter #'nw lemon'#'nw abduction'#gn reader #'nw abuse'

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