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anonil88 · 3 years

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Malcolm and Marie live blog

I don't usually do liveblogs for movies but yea.

Spoilers ahead!!

I love that its modern timed but very 70s stylized.

A tune indeed.

When you are high and drunk on success and

How the white critic reacts is why I feel like gatekeeping my scripts. At the same time some things I do make are about race or involve.

Marie sitting on the patio smoking is a mood whenever men are talking.

So he's pretentious and unaware.

Whoever chose the music for this, I feel like we would be Spotify mutuals.

Can this nigga stop pacing.

Also can he stop talking;

Marie is so tired and unimpressed.

Also little booties matter and are to be bitten.

Oooo the tension and the jazz.

Title Card over mac and cheese.

Shitty boxes mac and cheese but still mac and cheese.

Tbh i always wonder if spouses/significant others get upset when their spouses don't acknowledge them during speeches.

John sounds so much like his dad but I really hope his acting style differs from his dad a lot.

Guilty confession?

He did not profit off of his partners backstory and then not even acknowledge her.....I.....

If that ever happened to me catch me cussing my partner out during the beginning credits, the end credits, in the car, and at home.

GASLIGHTER!

The way I'm excited for Zendaya to give me some, oooo can she work with Regina King. Please on my knees I pray.

Um no that's not your job to coddle your lead.

He's a dick and the type of dick who makes himself look like a good person around other people.

If Sam Levinson is trying to make his viewers more of misandrist, it's working.

I feel like Marie has her flaws probably a lot of them and we will surely see as this continues, but Malcolm needs to learn how to apologize sincerely.

70s vibes! 70s vibes!

Them kissing and talking about criticism and dreams makes me miss a partner. A partner that I've had and haven't had.

Women really are behind every great man.

Yea sir you fucked a happy moment.

Oh visual allegories for looking in from the outside and cat and mouse chasing and looking from the outside in.

She's saying she doesn't feel noticed by you.

Gas lighter :0 he called her an emotional support dog, bruh.

I would LOVE to co-write or take a writing class held by Sam Levinson. The fights i write are very much in this same realm of reflection and anger and monologue.

Sam.....sam.....are all the sides inside of you doing okay sir?

The ugly side of dating and being in a relationship with someone who struggles with their own demons.

Honestly I could close my eyes and listen to this script being read without seeing these characters visually. Just close my eyes and get a sense of these characters like it was a radio story.

Oh. Oh this is a new wheelhouse of Zendaya acting; a different voice is like breaking through here and her expressions aren't the same we are used to. You can literally hear another character in there....hmm.

Mans is outside really fighting with his invisible demons lmfao.

Selfish ass, how after everything she said you came out of it thinking about your own craft and self instead of how you hurt her.

So she's conditional.

Me: did sam (a white man) say nigga this many times in his script or are the actors adding their own inflections. Not just the lingo used but the topic of race and directing etc. being written by a white writer about black characters is always gonna be a critique when you're writer is a white person.

Alexa play Broken Girls by Saba

He is so hurtful.

A clown nigga a clown look in the fucking mirror you bozo head ass looking like you need some Mehron clown white and a size 16 in clown shoes.

John is doing a really swell performance and reading of these lines.

He is reading her for her insecurities by bringing up his experiences with other women and that.....is yikes.

Arguments can get messy like this in real life but it takes a lot of maturity and control to either not let it get to this point or have a healthy conversation afterwards.

This film is really shot on some very crisp lenses.

They sitting there like 🚬🧍‍♀️🧍‍♂️.

Leftover Mac and Cheese and unfinished cigarettes.

The nyt etc. pay walls are so annoying, but there is a work around look at the articles on incognito or add a period at the end of the url.

He sounds like his daddy so much here, weird, this is the only part I'm eh on the dialogue it feels real but a bit out of pace in how they are bouncing off one another.

Nail scissors? So the end is not the only part he based off of Marie. 🙄

ITS A GOOD REVIEW YOU DINGUS but also its a full review they are going to critique things. She isn't wrong though he did profit off of a woman's story that was not his own to profit from.

Yes Malcolm because unfortunately all marginalized people look through a lens of life that is inherently political because of the world they live in.

He is so mad and upset and had a lot on his chest. But I think he Malcolm and Sam are talking about something thats an issue and a non issue. Being critiqued for you art is hard but also Malcolm is not super self aware. He's like a stand in figure of for example rich depop sellers who wanna be oppressed so badly they yell at others instead of examining their own personal behaviors and ethics.

Oh Marie, when you know the spark is gone and you pick fights because.

He ain't even ask her to read?

One critic I have for most of hollywood actors is they learn their cry and that is it. A change from this is Margot Robbie, I adore her fluctuations of crying being similar but the crying is carried differently for each character. If I had to say any actor that does a cry scene amazing its this woman right here (Amy Adams)

You stole her story from her and gave it away, she has a right to be upset and angry and a rubber band ball of emotions.

Citizen Kane, not the cinematography, but the story is it even that good? (Unpopular opinion but meh, maybe in my rewatch it will be better.)

But that is what people want authenticity and whatever authenticity means to them. What is real for one is false for another.

To be honest look at the criticism of Euphoria, well earned, but a lot of people were like this isn't real even though he literally wrote about his own life. People said it was inauthentic like....wtf.

Ahh the smoking is just a habit, he quit and she didn't.

CAST ZENDAYA IN A HORROR MOVIE PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING. Get Lupita and Zendaya and some more black actors preferably less known ones in a horror movie. One with a interesting script and story, directed by Regina King. Please and thankyou.

I love Marie yep that was amazing.

Behind every great man is a greater woman, one that deserves her credit for how she has stood behind. I wonder the stories of those women, what they have sacrificed or not sacrificed. Their thoughts and feelings when the world is surrounding their partner and views them as a plus one. (I'd write a short script about this but I think do I have the time, can I, or am I equipped ?)

He is a shitty person for bringing up his exes, like she even said I don't wanna know any of that.

Imagine being on anti depressents and rarely having a sex drive and then when you do your partner starts talking about their exes and tearing you apart for all your faults.

I love when you see peaks of Zendaya's cadence in roles.

Tension, what if's and he didn't even bring her up in his speech.

Marie to herself and the audience:

He is not afraid that he will loose her but as my character says in my unreleased story, "i can't wait til you give me a fucking reason to leave your ass." Malcolm expects everything in order for not even doing the bare minimum and she is only asking him for something as simple as consideration. She just wants him to be considerate. He wants to get married and considers their relationship like rolling down a hill at full speed and he cannot apologize, he cannot be considerate, and he cannot admit his wrongs. He can only offer her I love yous that he probably does mean but he does not back up outside of what he's done for her in the past. The past which was more of her experience than his and he sees his part in it as a burden. He doesn't use his own vantage point of the past to further his career he uses her. He does all of these things without a real apology or thankyou because he is not afraid to loose her.

The restrictions of quarantine and the panorama have made Sam's writing very no frills. I wonder how other films from other directors and writers that are filmed in small contained crews like this will be structured. But this was a very good movie gonna add to my letter box 3.3-3.5

Oh shit this is my song,

Ratings/overall thoughts:

Script is like a C+, B- : I could go into my heavier big brain thoughts on the script but I don't feel like it. You catch hints of it above it centers conversation on race and privilege, mainly the writers and questions i have that won't be answered but Sam did make me grow disdain for Malcolm over a short time. Which is sometimes hard to do because im one sympathetic person but the sympathy i have for Malcolm is at 0. Maybe a 2 at some scenes but then it quickly goes back to 0. Some parts of the dialogue miss the mark or hit the are off balanced. While some of it like Malcolm's bathroom speech albeit mean is really strong or their conversation when he comes back from peeing really shines for me.

Performances: B+ to A- because they carried the script further than it could of gone with less talented actors. The monologues do well to showcase their current skill levels which are already high af and leave room for anticipation in where these actors go next.

Zendaya holding a knife: A+ with a gold star. That switch on and off and on is delectable.

John being a shitty boyfriend but following Marie like a lost puppy: B+ with a good job written at the bottom of the paper, Malcolm being nervous a frantic dialed up with more realistic nervousness would have sold me completely on Malcolm's anxious waiting.

Cinematography: A and a participation award.

The mac and cheese: A+ for the easy mac. Wish it was like Annie's or Velveeta.

Cigarettes: Participation award and their picture hung up for student of the month. Why the grill lighter? Everytime Malcolm opened up his mouth Marie was like sparks fly.

The music: A++ with a prize. Whoever picked the music probably makes good Spotify playlists.

#Malcolm & Marie #malcolm and marie #zendaya coleman #zendaya #john david washington #liveblog #mine

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clareguilty · 4 years

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Bewitched by a Deadman's Heart

I had an anon request Pirate AU Gabe and then I took a month to write it im so sorry anon i hope youre still here

Read it here on the AO3 Gabriel Reyes/Reader | Pirate AU Rating: Mature/Explicit | No Warnings Word count: ~2600

You never took your eyes off the captain as he stalked back and forth through the hold. Sweeping black and crimson coat, broad hat. He had worn a white bone mask when he entered; now you could see his face.

He wasn’t human. Not fully. Monstrous, a beast made more of smoke than bone. You had seen men like him before, cursed by Neptune. They were all the same, unrepentant bastards. You knew exactly what he wanted.

Chains chafed and scratched at your wrists and ankles, and the gag was making your jaw ache terribly. Being held prisoner was unsurprisingly dreadful. A lantern swayed violently, casting strange living shadows through your cell.

Just get on with it. You rolled your eyes. Mortals were always so predictable. This whole fiasco was more of an annoyance than anything.

The captain disappeared, vanished between one step and the next. You jumped as you felt a presence behind you. He had rematerialized within the bars of your cell.

A large rough hand grabbed your jaw, forcing your head back until you met dark eyes.

“I hate for things to be this way,” he said, voice cold. You didn’t have it in you to believe him. How many cruel men had sailed the seas, capturing and hunting your brothers and sisters? You scoffed behind the gag.

The captain’s grip tightened and then released all at once. You slumped to the floor at his feet, glaring up at him with as much contempt as you could manage. His expression softened minutely. “You’re innocent. It was not you who cursed me with this form.”

Then let me go, you thought.

“I need you to summon Neptune. I need him to reverse what he has done.”

You did not lessen the force of your glare. The captain held your gaze: a stalemate.

But mortals lack patience, and he quickly caved. A heavy boot collided with your side, and you cried out behind the gag. Scrambling as far as your chains would allow, you never looked away.

The captain growled and disappeared once more. He emerged from the shadows, storming out of the hold and slamming the door behind him.

You slumped in your binds. Captain Gabriel Reyes, the Reaper of the Seas. The ship you were currently imprisoned on could be none other than the Blackwatch.

If anyone were to capture you, then at least it was the most fearsome pirate alive. Your pride couldn’t have handled if you had been stolen by some nobody with hardly a feat to his name.

For all the rumors that surrounded Captain Reyes and the Blackwatch, you had not known about Neptune’s curse. What had he done to earn such a fate? You wondered if he had been cursed before he turned to piracy, or if he had committed a crime worse than any other during his reign of terror.

He wanted the curse lifted. He wanted Neptune himself to undo his punishment. How precocious. How would your situation change if Captain Reyes knew you were capable of granting him his wish? It wasn’t difficult magic. You had taken on far greater feats back in the time of heroes. It had been centuries since you had really been able to test yourself.

Not that you were very inclined to help out the bastard that captured you, trussed you up, tossed you in a cell, and kicked you. Being a Nereid didn’t mean that you were incapable of bruising.

You sulked a few hours in the dim cell. The Reaper would be back. You would be able to survive torture if it came to that, but you certainly hoped this beast knew better. You looked forward to being released from your chains, then you could exact vengeance for your mistreatment.

The door to the hold creaked open and the captain stepped inside. He was still in his crimson coat, cutlass at his hip, yet he carried a bowl of food and a bottle.

Something emerged from the shadows behind you, pulling the gag from your lips. It was a neat trick.

Reyes stopped outside the door to your cell. “I-” He genuinely looked unsure. “I wasn’t sure if you needed to eat. I’ve brought you food.”

You scoffed, eyeing the bowl with disdain. “I enjoy divine offerings and sweet wine.” Divine offerings were a thing lost to time, but stale bread and boiled vegetables held no appeal for you.

The captain set the plate down and vanished. He rematerialized within the cell, leaned back against the bars, arms crossed.

You stared up at him, expectantly.

He was quiet for a long while. You waited. At last, he sighed and spoke. “I’m sorry for stealing you away.”

“Then let me go.” If he truly was sorry, he would have freed you.

“I can’t do that.” His voice was sharp. “You’re my only hope of lifting this damned curse.”

You slumped in your bonds, but your curiosity had gotten the better of you. “What did you even do to deserve the wrath of Neptune?”

The captain’s frown deepened. “What haven’t I done? I staged a mutiny against my commander in the navy, turned against crown and company, attacked and pillaged any ship that crossed my path. I’ve slain. I’ve slaughtered. This curse has made me the perfect killer.”

You didn’t have it in you to be impressed. “Many men have done worse than you and never ended up cursed by the god of the sea.”

The captain sighed. "It was after a victory against Commander Morrison-"

"The one you mutinied?" You asked.

“Yes, the one I mutinied. He's my greatest rival, always armed with the best of the king's dogs. We had won a battle, and gained quite a bit from it. I was boastful -- drunk -- and talking to my crew.

"'Just you wait,' I said. 'We'll take down every ship on these seas and sail right to old Neptune himself. He doesn’t stand a chance against us.' That was enough, apparently. A storm swept in, and suddenly… I was this."

You laughed. “He’s done far worse for far less offense.” Such a curse for such a trivial mistake -- the god must have been rather cranky that day. “You insult the god of the sea and decide the best way to make amends is to capture a member of his court? To tie her up and beat her? You sure have a strange method of going about things.”

The captain looked sheepish, almost repentant.

“I have a request.”

Captain Reyes glanced up in surprise. He probably wasn’t used to his prisoners being so bold.

“I’d like to see the moon,” you continued.

“The moon?”

“I can still feel her call. The tides have risen. Could I just see her, please?”

You could see his mind working, trying to determine if this was a trick. That’s not to say that you wouldn’t take any chance you could get to escape, but you were patient. You would wait for the right opportunity.

The captain made his choice, kneeling beside you to release the chains on your ankles. Your arms remained bound, and he lifted you to your feet with remarkable strength. He helped you out of the cell and up to the main deck, gently lifting you through the hatch. The members of his crew watched you, but didn’t say anything. You kept your gaze straight ahead.

The water was inky black save for the silver crests of waves. You longed to dive in, to return to the safety of Neptune’s court and escape the troubles of mortals. But the captain held fast to your chains.

The clouds parted, and the brilliant light of the moon washed over the ship deck. You basked in the glow. It was safety and comfort after the hours you had spent locked away.

captain Reyes was surprisingly patient, letting you gaze into the sky until the clouds rolled through once more. The darkness ached, but you resigned yourself to another sentence in your cell.

“Would you-” The captain struggled to find his words. “I do not have to take you back down below deck.” He said.

“And I suppose you’ll be setting me free then?” you smiled dryly.

“I’m sorry. I can’t. But you could remain in my quarters for the time being. Until you call to Neptune, until my curse is lifted, I cannot let you leave this ship. But I can make your time here as comfortable as possible.”

You considered his offer. “How do you know I will not simply steal away after you have fallen asleep?” It was a good way to get you locked back in the cell, but you couldn’t keep yourself from testing him.

“I don’t sleep. The curse… I am unable to rest, to dream.” He looked anguished.

“And you wish to torture yourself further by inviting me to fill your waking hours?”

He pulled sharply on your chains. “I can lock you up again if that is what you truly wish.” His voice was an inhuman growl.

You yanked back, defiant. The bruises would look horrid, but you weren’t about to cower before this beast. “You forget who has the true power here. Locking me away will only worsen your punishment. If you thought Neptune was angry before, then you should imagine how he punishes those who have harmed the members of his court.”

The wind whipped around you, waves rising taller and taller. A crewmate shouted from below deck as the entire ship rocked on the raging sea. The captain’s eyes widened in fear. Since your capture, you had hidden the true power of your magic.

“I won’t free you,” he snarled. “Not until my curse is lifted.”

“You will treat me with the respect I deserve as a spirit of the sea,” you demanded. The ocean roared. Your threats were not empty. The captain acquiesced.

“I will protect and care for you within my power. You must call to Neptune. Have him free me.”

The waves began to calm, wind dying down between one breath and the next. You never took your eyes off Captain Reyes. “Take me to your quarters.”

He locked the door behind him as soon as you were inside. You took a seat on the fanciest, most plush looking chair you could find, eyes scanning the walls and shelves. Captain Reyes’s quarters were luxurious, filled with treasures and trophies from his conquests.

He dropped a bottle into your lap. You inspected it carefully.

“Sweet wine,” he said, removing his coat and cutlass to hang. “I’m all out of ‘offerings’.”

You pried the cork from the bottle with your teeth and took a sip of the wine. It certainly was sweet, nicer than you expected a pirate to have. You helped yourself to a long pull.

Captain Reyes was slouched in a chair across the room, looking decidedly mortal as he rubbed his forehead and let out a long sigh.

“Why do you refuse to do as I ask?”

You cradled your bottle, rattling the chains around your wrists as you raised your eyebrow. “I consider myself very generous when I’m not being snatched away by pirates. To be honest, I’m waiting for the first chance I get to destroy your ship and crew and escape.”

“I may just hunt you down again, you know. I could even find a way to kill you.” His words were empty, though. There was no heart behind them.

“Why do you want your curse lifted so badly?” you asked. “Does it not make you the most powerful man on the seas? Strong? Tireless? Unkillable?”

He disappeared from the chair, rematerializing right above you. Monstrous and formless, black smoke and long teeth and glowing eyes. “Is there not more than just power and glory? I am not the monster I was cursed to be. This form… I’m a beast! My own crew fears me. I’m alone. Unable to sleep or dream or feel. All of my victories mean nothing.”

You dropped the bottle in shock, wincing as it clattered and rolled across the fine rug.

Captain Reyes was gone. Back across the room, shoulders hunched. He leaned against the wall, heaving with breaths he didn’t need.

You stood, chains rattling as you slowly made your way towards him. Reaching slowly, you placed a hand on his arm. He didn’t react to your touch. “What will you do? When you are mortal again?”

Slowly, he turned to look at you. Defeated. Captain Gabriel Reyes, the Reaper of the Blackwatch. He looked defeated.

“I’ll carry on. I’ll take my crew and my ships, and I’ll keep on as I always have.”

“Without your curse, you would be in danger.” You led him over to the bed. He sat beside you, staring at his hands. They were clawed, monstrous.

“I’m not afraid of danger.”

“What are you afraid of?” You clasped one of his hands between your own.

“I’m afraid of being alone. Of being unwanted. I’ll spend eternity as a monster, and one day I may lose myself and become nothing but beast.”

It wasn’t what you expected. The ruthless Reaper, afraid of being alone. Your heart broke for him. This wasn’t what he deserved.

“Can you unbind me?” you asked. “I promise no harm will come to your crew.”

The chains fell to the floor. You knelt before the captain. He refused to meet your eyes. Placing a hand on either side of his face, you lifted his head. His eyes were pleading.

Your lips brushed his. He recoiled at first, not expecting the touch. “Please,” you whispered, “can you trust me?”

He held still. And you kissed him once more. He responded this time yet was still hesitant to touch you. Deeper and deeper, you ran your fingers through his disheveled curls. He moaned into your mouth, and your lips curled against his.

He finally pulled away, pressing his forehead to yours as he panted and gasped for air.

You let out an undignified yelp as he scooped you into his arms and laid you on the bed. “I feel… What did you do?” He looked at his hands, dark scarred skin in the place of monstrous claws.

“I lifted the curse.”

He stared at you in disbelief, grinning widely. “You could have done it all along? You did do it! I’m… How can I thank you?”

It warmed you to see him so overjoyed. You remembered the satisfaction of helping out heroes a millennium before.

He was handsome, no longer a shadowy monster. Dark, scarred skin. Full lips. Curly black hair that fell across his forehead. He was still broad, huge even for a man, but now it was flesh and muscle under the thin fabric of his shirt.

The captain was kissing you again, so deeply and with so much passion. “Is this okay?” he asked.

“It’s wonderful.”

He pushed aside the fabric of your dress, kissing every inch of exposed skin. You trailed your hands over his arms and shoulders, feeling the strength and muscle from years of living aboard a ship.

Clothes fell to the floor and soon the both of you were bare. You admired the captain’s newfound mortal body. Every scar, every mark, every dip and curve. He shuddered and gasped at each touch, not used to the sensation after so many years under the curse. You let him pin you down and ravish you. He couldn’t get enough.

You finally pushed him away, pulling him by the hair from between your thighs. “You’re mortal now,” you reminded him. “You need to rest.”

“Will you still be here when I wake?” he asked.

“I’ll stay here with you.” You opened your arms. He pulled you in close. You listened as his heartbeat slowed and his breathing evened. The ship rocked and creaked on the waves, moonlight streaming in through the glass windows.

#gabriel reyes x reader #gabriel reyes #gabriel reyes/reader #reaper/reader #reaper x reader #reaper overwatch #pirate au #requests #request fic #fanfiction requests #overwatch fanfic

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sinsforjeon · 5 years

Text

Discipline {Six}

[Hi! My trial exams have finally ended and I have a month and a half before I start my finals uGh I’m tIrED but I missed writing this story so much:”) so here’s another part with soft!yoongi oK on with the reading ily🥺💕]

Your father has had enough and so he goes to greater measures to make sure you leave your bad ways behind.

Ot7Xreader, foul language (god is always watching), future smut, dom!bts, brat!reader, sadhours! softhours! smexyhours!

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

You felt pathetic, tears rolling down your cheeks, mixing with the hot water that engulfed your being. So many people have it worse than you, why must you wallow in self pity?

Sniffling quietly as soft hiccups left your dry lips, you made your way out of the bathroom and there he sat.

His face was strangely comforting to see, eyes unwavering and intensely staring at your figure as you bit your lip to try and silent your hiccups.

“G-Good ev-ening, Yoongi.” You mumbled, bowing slightly and the man sighed, you could feel the pity rolling off of him which confused you. Wasn’t he supposed to be happy? Get some kind of pleasure of seeing tears roll down your face?

“Oh, Princess...” he trailed off as he stood up, taking you in his arms. This caused your tears from earlier to return, more powerful this time.

Yoongi sat you on his lap while he sat on your bed, gentle hands running through your damp hair as he tried to calm you down.

“Hoseok was mean, wasn’t he?” He asked softly and all you could do was whimper and nod.

“‘m sorry, Princess, he’s doing what’s best for you, you know that right?”

You didn’t answer, only burying your face onto the crook of his neck.

“We can see how much you hate it here,” he continued, “but in order to let you go we have to do our job, yeah?”

You whined softly, knowing he was right but didn’t express it verbally.

Yoongi cooed gently as he hooked a finger under your chin bringing you back to him.

“A pretty girl like you shouldn’t cry, hm?”

He hummed as he wiped the tears off your face before placing a kiss on each cheek.

“You’re being nice.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

You shook your head as he held eye contact, caressing your face gently.

“Thought you guys h-hated me.”

Yoongi laughed at this, his chest vibrating gently against your back.

“Not at all, Princess.”

“Not even Hoseok?”

“Especially Hoseok.”

Your face showed that you didn’t believe him, the man thought you looked pretty with tears running down your face. Fucking sadist.

Yoongi could tell that there was a reason behind your bursts of tantrums because there was no way that the girl that sat on his lap was telling them to eat a bag of dicks not so long ago.

“What’s the matter, Princess?” He asked and you tilted your head up in confusion.

“Why are you hiding?” He continued and your breath got caught in your throat as you looked up at him with wide eyes.

“I-what?”

He sighed and smiled softly. The hand that was caressing your cheek back in your hair.

“C’mon, Princess, I’m smarter than that you know.”

“I don’t u-understand-“

You felt as if your heart was beating out of your chest and you wouldn’t be surprised of Yoongi could hear it too.

“Oh but you do, you’re this gentle soul that puts up this wall, a mask almost, what are you hiding from... who are you hiding from?”

You suddenly felt very exposed and not from your lack of clothing. Were you really that easy to read? You swore Namjoon had seen through you and now him too?

“I’m-I’m not hiding” You replied, your voice now void of any emotion as you tried to get up from his lap but he only held you tighter.

“Don’t do that.” He spoke, his voice somewhat angry sounding and your heart immediately skipped a beat.

“Don’t pretend with me.”

“Yoongi, I’m no-“

Your words were cut off by his stern look and you sheepishly looked down at your lap.

“What did I just say, Y/N?”

You didn’t know what to say, you words stuck in your throat as you tried to articulate anything but alas.

“Princess, eyes on me.”

You didn’t hesitate because gone was the sweet Yoongi and now you were sat with the king himself and god forbid you did some stupid shit that would find its way to Hoseok.

“Are you going to answer me? Hm?”

“I’m scared.”

You spoke, finally and from those two words you felt as if a weight was lifted off of your shoulders.

His eyes softened as he saw yours fill up with tears but you refused to let them fall.

“I’m scared of the world, so-“ you took a deep breath, blinking away the tears that sat in your eyes.

“So I choose to hurt others before they can hurt me.”

Yoongi only stared in silence and you cleared your throat uncomfortably.

“Who hurt you, Princess?”

He asked and once again you looked at him in shock.

“No-“

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N.”

You hated this. It was so much easier when he was a dick to you. Why did he all of a sudden care?

“What- Why? Is- Is this something Hoseok sent you here for? Get information out of me that he can use so he could break me down into nothing but tears?”

Your tone was aggressive but only because you hated the interrogation, because you hated that he was right.

Yoongi’s hold on you started to get painfully tight and that could only signify his anger.

“You know damn well he could’ve gotten that himself, I’m here on my own will and don’t you dare use that tone with me.”

“Or what, Yoongi? Are you going to humiliate in front of your brothers huh? Well fuck you! Because I-“

You were crying, thrashing in his hold that he so strongly refused to let go of.

“You wanna know something?” He asked and you didn’t respond only becoming immobile in his hands.

“Hurt people hurt people.” He murmured and you swallowed thickly, eyes refusing to meet his.

“This isn’t you, this is who you want to show because you’ve been hurt and it’s the only way you know how to protect yourself.”

His words were so painfully true, you could feel the sinking feeling on your chest that you hated so much.

“The others know too, you know. They know that the girl they speak to everyday isn’t Y/N because no matter how hard you try to run, you can never run away from yourself.”

They knew? The thought made fear bubble up in your chest. No, they couldn’t know, there was no way they knew.

“The real you will always overpower that mask, Princess. There are cracks in your mask and your true self always shines through just like it is right now.”

“Please stop, I-“

“It’s ok. I won’t hurt you- hey, look at me,” he reprimanded as he held your face in his hands, his eyes more intense than before as they stared into yours, “I will not hurt you, Y/N.”

“That’s what they all said, Yoongi. They- They promised.”

They promised. You were never always like this. You were always cheerful, positive and full of joy but she ripped that away from you. Your mother. She left, leaving you and your father for another man and ever since then thing started going downhill. Everyone coming in your life just to leave you again, it hurt, it hurt that you were so easily replaceable in people’s lives.

“I know, sweetheart, I know but I’m not the same.”

“How? How are you different from any of them?”

Yoongi hesitated at the question, you could see the gears turning in his head as he kept his eyes on you.

“Because I was once like you.”

And that was the last of your conversation. No words came from the both of you, only soft breaths and intense eyes.

He pulled you closer to his chest, continuing his gentle ministrations from earlier.

And for the first time in a really long time you let yourself go and you were Y/N. No one else.

Just Y/N.

Tags: @taeriffococean @snowythellama @slutforjjk @crazy-fangirl-10 @aretha170 @my-bts-babes @joonsbias @itneverends15713 @ashbash9909 @beautyyounggirl @shooklier @optimisticbouquetgentlemensworld @im-emo-motherfuckers @ravennightmares @dionymint @jiminiesthiccthighs @tall-iirose3773 @hopeivx @merxkii @joyful-jimin @namjoonsslutakakoreanmanswhore @blackpanther4550 @avalanet @httpjazel @bloominlovely95 @yasbts705 @anothershorthuman @btsxdoll @sweetcrvture @ximaginx @bookoffracturedescapes @daysixdrum @feedthefandoms995 @bartiertae @w0lfqu33n @vanitypoko @beetaeass @slxtfortae @luvu3000times @butter1babe @i-am-supermerwholoked221b

#bts angst #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts imagines #bts reactions #jungkook smut #sub!reader #dom!bts #jhope smut #jimin smut #ot7 x reader #jin smut #namjoon smut #taehyung smut #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff

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bearfeathers · 4 years

Note

For the Fanfiction Trope MASH-UP: pregnancy au + time travel + kylux 🥺🥺🥺 (i would be very grateful if there’s mpreg kylo cause im a sucker for that trope, and if you don’t like mpreg it’s fine but i still want to hear about your time travel au :D)

(So, I don’t really do mpreg. There is a child in this, but I just chalk her up to some Kaminoan something or other LOL. Also this turned out WAY fucking longer than I intended it to. Also also: Hux’s mum deserves a fucking name, goddammit.)

Read on AO3

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Lying on the cot in his cell, Ben listens to the storm raging outside. Hux had once told him about his first few years on Arkanis—how it rained and stormed nearly at all times. He had only seen one sunrise there, he’d said, but never a sunset.

Now he never will.

Ben tries not to dwell on how long the general’s corpse had sat in the medbay before the ship was inevitability brought down in that great, final battle. Pryde had been a mistake. He would say he didn’t know what he was thinking by appointing him Allegiant General, but that’s not true; he’d wished to embarrass Hux. To put him in his place.

Petty foolishness. That’s what it was. He can see that now. Of course, he hadn’t planned on the arrangement lasting forever. He’d thought he could reign Hux in a little after he’d pulled a blaster on him as he’d laid unconscious on the floor of the Supreme Leader's throne room. It was only fair, he’d reasoned. And once Hux had been properly punished… then he would extend the offer to rule beside him.

There had been a time when they had gotten along. It feels as though it had happened in some other lifetime, but it had happened. Deep down, despite the way they fought for Snoke’s favor, he had hoped they could return to that time one day. Hux wanted it, too. Ben had sensed it from him. But pride kept them apart, only allowing them close enough to be at each other’s necks.

But he can change all of that. Or… he can try at least.

Time travel is an ability rarely spoken of in Jedi texts, though Luke had discussed the theory with him on several occasions. There haven’t been any recorded instances of time travel in thousands of years, and even those that had been recorded were suspect, to say the least. Still, Ben has been practicing every day since they had put him in this cell. It’s not as though trying will hurt—he can’t escape his past as Kylo Ren and he has no future here.

But something about this storm, something about the way the Force flows around him tonight… he feels confident.

As he closes his eyes, the world around him slowly fades. He knows not what awaits him, whether he will be successful or simply fall deep into a slumber he never wakes from, but he welcomes oblivion with open arms.

Ben chokes on air and rain, the coppery tang of blood on his tongue as he feels it gushing from his nose. The ground is muddy beneath his hands as he struggles to push himself upright. All around him, people are running and screaming, only adding to the dizzying buzz in his head.

But he knows he’s done it. He’s exactly where and when he’d planned to be. Well… perhaps not exactly. He doesn’t actually know where Hux is, as he’s relying on memories that aren’t his own but rather something whispered to him in confidence years and years and years ago. Trying to reach through the Force to locate him brings a searing pain to his head and he staggers against a shop wall to keep himself upright. Alright, so he’d overdone it with the time traveling, clearly. The thought sounds ridiculous even as he thinks it—of course the fucking time travel had overdone it, fuck’s sake. In any case, means he’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way.

Grabbing the arm of a fleeing resident, he asks, “Can you tell me where Hux manor is?”

The man looks at him as though he’s insane. But muddy, bloody, and drenched, perhaps that’s what Ben looks like.

“I don’t know, maybe the enormous kriffing building up on the hill?” the man answers him sarcastically.

He yanks himself free of Ben’s grip, cursing him and calling him a lunatic before taking up where he’d left off in getting the hell out of town. Ben sighs wearily, seeing the distance spread out before him. But he’s not going to get any closer sitting here and bemoaning his situation, so he sets off, trudging through the wet streets and onto grass that he can’t believe hasn’t drowned with how much it rains here.

Unfortunately, that’s where things stop being easy. As it turns out, walking up a hill in the pouring rain is actually rather difficult. On hands and knees, clawing his way to the top and slipping more than his fair share, Ben has to wonder what this is all for. He knows why he’s doing it, but he doesn’t know what the end result will be. Assuming he does what he came here to, what happens then? Does he change the future? Does he create an alternate reality? Does he even return to where he’d been or does he merely cease to be?

It’s in the midst of these musings that Ben becomes aware of the fact that he’s being followed. Of course, he’s not fool enough to turn around and find out who it is, but he doesn’t feel he really needs to anyway. He can sense their presence easily and finds it to be… oddly familiar. He just can’t put his finger on why that is. Regardless, the presence is soft and non-threatening in its nature in a way that reminds him of Leia. It’s motherly, he realizes. That’s how it feels.

The person it belongs to means him no harm and so he puts them far from his mind for the time being. He has much greater things to concern himself with.

It feels like eons before Ben pants on hands and knees atop the hill. The grit seems permanently wedged beneath his split and bleeding fingernails, but even the dull throb of pain feels somehow detached from him. As though it belongs to someone else. As though it belongs to this body, but not Ben himself. Ben is merely occupying it for the time being.

“What the fuck does that even mean,” he asks himself, hoisting himself up onto his feet with a pained grunt. “You’re losing it. Or you’ve lost it. Either way, you’re standing here talking to yourself like an imbecile.”

It sounds ridiculous, talking to himself like this, but it feels like the only thing keeping him grounded. Like a balloon in a child’s grasp, mere moments from floating away, held in place at the will of a pudgy hand gripping its ribbon. Ben finds himself moving forward, his steps heavy and leaden, sloshing through the sluice of dirty water that has risen amidst this unholy downpour.

He is weary. Beyond weary. The thought of being bone dry and warm, somewhere soft and safe, causes his steps to falter. He could stop to rest, just for a moment … but no. No, he came here with a purpose. And he doesn’t know how long he has to see it through.

As he looks up, the Hux estate looms before him, dark and imposing in its architecture, as cold and unwelcoming as he had pictured it to be. Ben can almost imagine Hux growing up here—it would certainly explain a few facets of his personality. But it’s no place for a child. He knows that. No child should have to call this prison their home.

Shouting draws him away from his thoughts, loud enough to be heard even above the storm. He moves along the wall, hurrying towards the sound of voices in the hopes that his search may have come to an end.

There is a large man dragging a flailing child out towards a ship, both of them screaming. The shock of red hair on both their heads is a dead giveaway. It had always made Hux stand out to him, a bright beacon amidst the darkness of space and the First Order’s fleet. Hux would hate to hear him say it, he’s sure. But now isn’t the time for idle thoughts. He isn’t sure exactly how he plans to act right up until the moment he sees the man reel back to strike the child.

By that point it feels more like the will of the Force than will of his own as it surges through him, lifting the elder Hux off his feet and slamming into the ship's paneling. He falls to the ground in a crumpled heap and does not move. Ben feels a sudden tidal wave of nausea and grabs hold of the building’s wall as he retches violently. His mouth tastes of blood and bile and his head swims.

He wants to sleep. He wants so terribly to sleep. He’s tired and cold and he aches, but he’s not finished here. Not until he’s sure Hux is safe. The child doesn’t move from where he’d fallen to the ground after his father had been violently ripped away from him. He watches as Ben draws near, mouth agape and shaking in the heavy rain—from cold or fear, Ben isn’t sure. Likely both. Eyes the color of spearmint leaves stare back at him, wide and round in his small, pale face.

And he’s small, Ben realizes. So small. Hux was never a large man, not like his father, but Ben had never quite pictured him to have been so… fragile looking. Like a baby bird. Stunted and runt-like.

“It’s okay,” Ben says, raising his hands peaceably. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

The boy shakes his head, doing his best to scuttle backwards and away from Ben. Waves of fear assault Ben’s senses, so overwhelming in its nature that he nearly losing his footing once more. Hux has always been a torrent of thoughts and emotion within a cold, unfeeling wrapping but this bald terror is new to Ben. Such a show of emotion would no doubt mortify the general were he to know Ben had ever been witness to it.

“Armitage!”

The cry startles him as someone comes hurtling from behind him. The presence he had felt earlier following him up the hill rushes past him and towards the frightened boy.

“Mother!” he hiccups.

Mother.

Of course.

Hux’s mother. The kitchen woman. It’s why her presence had felt familiar—because some part of Hux came from her. The part that the elder Hux had never quite been able to fully beat out of him. Ben stands back and watches the woman cradle the boy in her arms and as he does, he realizes her hair is red as well. Hux’s hair was not the rusty red of his father’s but rather the fiery red of his mother’s. The longer he looks, the more Ben realizes that the elder Hux’s hatred of his son were for many more reasons than first glance might supply.

He startles when the woman rises from the mud, clutching the boy to her breast as she approaches him. Even in the rain, Ben can see the tears in her eyes.

“Thank you,” she says earnestly. “I don’t know who you are or where you’ve come from—”

“You don’t need to,” Ben says, waving a hand absently.

The woman nods, holding her son closer. The boy’s arms wrap tightly around her neck, his face pressed to her chest and away from Ben’s sight.

“You should go east of here. The Resis—the New Republic will take you both in,” Ben instructs her. “They’ll take you away from here, they’ll take you somewhere safe.”

“Yes, I know,” the woman says, fruitlessly attempting to dry her eyes. “I just couldn’t leave without… without trying. I was afraid I would be too late.”

“Well…” Ben says haltingly. “You’re not. Be thankful for that.”

“I am,” the woman assures him. Her green eyes convey a gratitude that she isn’t sure she can properly express, but Ben feels it, powerful and warm that cuts through even the piercing chill of the air around them. “Thank you, Mister…?”

Ben isn’t sure how to answer that. He has had many names, none of which feel suitable to this moment. But then… perhaps one is. Perhaps this is a chance for his name to be used in penance. He had worn it as a cloak to his darkness, his cruelty, his selfishness. Now, he offers it upon the metaphorical altar before him.

“It’s Ren,” he tells her. “Just… Just Ren.”

“Mister Ren,” the woman says, nodding to herself as though to commit it to memory. “My name is Palla Myn. On behalf of my son, you have my gratitude. If there is anything I might do—”

“That’s not necessary,” Ben says. He waves a hand slowly before her face. “You will go to the New Republic troops and you will forget my face.”

Her eyes glaze over as she echoes his words and turns to leave once more. He watches her as she reaches the slope of the hill and continues watching until her form has disappeared entirely. Only once she has gone does he allow his exhaustion to take over and he falls back upon his rear with a loud splash. He drags himself just far enough to rest his back against the side of the estate wall, but knows he is capable of nothing more.

Ben is tired. And now, with his work done, he can sleep. Forever, he thinks. Perhaps it will be forever. Perhaps it is done now. And as his heavy eyelids drift closed, he thinks that might just be alright.

“Daddy! Take me with you to the temple!”

Ben wheezes as a heavy weight drops on top of him, jarring him from his sleep.

“Padmé, let your father wake up please.”

Blearily, Ben blinks his eyes, which seem to take eons to clear. But when they do, he’s greeted to the sight of Hux picking a small, red-headed child off of his chest and setting her on the ground beside the bed. With a sort of dumb fascination, Ben watches as a man he has known only to be cruel and ruthless gently pat the child’s head.

“You’ll spend plenty of time in the temple when you’re of age,” Hux informs her. “Now, go see that your things are packed. You don’t want to keep Poe waiting.”

Poe. Poe Dameron, he means. And father…? Him? Ben sits up slowly, his head foggy and his body heavy. The bed he’s sitting in is large, built for two, and the room is bright and sunny. He feels immensely stupid as he gazes about him, wondering where—and when—the hell he is.

“Ben? Are you alright?”

His gaze returns to Hux, who watches him with a concerned frown.

“Hux,” he says, his voice rough.

“Solo,” Hux snorts with a smirk. “Are we doing last names now? I thought you dropped that habit at the altar.”

“Altar,” Ben echoes dumbly.

He looks down to his hands and finds a slim, inconspicuous band around his left ring finger. When he manages to look back up, he finds a matching band around Hux’s. This is a dream. Some kind of fantasy that the last of his firing neurons has conjured up as he eases into death. Suddenly there’s a weight on the bed beside him and Hux is sitting beside him. Ben watches with open astonishment as the general—is he still a general here?—reaches up and presses his hand to Ben’s cheek, his thumb brushing gently along his cheek.

They have had a bond through the Force since nearly the moment they had met. But it’s never been like what Ben feels now. It’s so strong, so all-consuming that he could drown in it. Hux’s wild emotions are distilled into things Ben had never even dreamt he might feel from him—affection, devotion, admiration, concern. Love. Such ardent love that Ben’s eyes begin to sting at the mere thought of it.

“You don’t seem well today,” Hux says quietly. “Perhaps you’re coming down with something… Why don’t I send word to Luke that you won’t be well enough to join him? I’m sure he and Tak can handle the younglings without you for one day.”

Ben nods slowly. Luke. Tak. Temple. Younglings. His mind is whirling with questions chasing questions, but for the moment… He reaches out, wrapping a hand around Hux’s wrist. He’s afraid that this will disappear the moment he lets his guard down.

“Could you… stay? With me?” Ben asks hesitantly. “Please.”

He feels a lump rise in his throat as Hux’s face pulls into the gentlest, most earnest smile he’s ever seen. It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful, glowing and healthy in a way Ben had never seen him before.

“Of course.”

Ben doesn’t know if he deserves this, whatever this is. But as he pulls Hux close and listens to the redhead murmur quietly about his mother inviting them for dinner this weekend, Ben decides it’s a question that can wait until later.

#star wars #kylux #ben solo #armitage hux #my fic #i had fun with this au tbh #Anonymous #asks #replies

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voidselfshipp · 3 years

Text

Arcane

Chapter 2

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Jerico sighed,forehead against the desk , hair fell messily on her face, she took a deep breath and leaned on the Chairs backrest letting out the air in a long exhale.

Someone patted her arm, and handed her a Cup of tea.

She looked up to meet with adlers eyes who hid behind his sunglasses.

--oh thanks...im halfway done...

He took a Seat besides her-- thats great...but didnt you had a friend with you?

She nodded--she went to sleep like an hour ago...

The Man looked at his watch and his face contorned in surprise, it was incredibly late .

He let her work a bit more until she finished her drink, his eyes took a quick look at the bed in the corner of the room right Next to the door, and stood up --Come on,time to rest--he offered his hand, and jeris eyes looked at it then at him with one eyebrow raised.

--I think ill pass--she cant finish her sentence because a yawn appears simingly out of no-where.

--pass out is what youll do

Still not budging he sighed and picked her up throwing her like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder.

The woman hit his back with weak fists, possibly because of the exhaustation.

He Turned off the lights and put her on the bed,hearing her getting comfortable and facing the wall.

--Youll go now?--she asked ready to jump out of bed to Keep working as soon as he was gone.

--Im not dumb, miss von terra, I know what youre trying to do

She felt the matress dip and sighed knowing there was no way out, she could creep around the U.S very best if he was in another room, but now, with their backs against eachother there was no chance she could pull that off.

Or maybe there was and she didnt.

They both covered by blankets said an awkward good night, Trying to contain the smile appearing on their faces.

Adler seemed to be naturally warm, wich made her scoot closer 'in her sleep'.

And dammnit, the american was going to Keep watch until she went to sleep, but the covers,the shared pillow, it all smelled like chamomile and coco, and he couldnt help himself,falling into a deep slumber alongside his companion.

Its around seven in the morning when he wakes up, he feels a warm hand softly shake him by the shoulder.

--Hey adler wake up

He protested and tried to turn away,he heard the voice,now clear enough to notice it was a womans, call him again.

Her hand grabbed his and gave it a light squeeze wich got him wide awake and sitting on the bed in a split second.

--There you are, good morning

--ah...goodmorning jerico...

Jer smiles handing him a good morning coffee--your teams looking for you

He nodded still half asleep,the light in the room blinding him, while he drinks his coffee, jerico fiddled with her own thumbs like a kid would.

He licked his lip and decided to sit besides her, he felt her head rest against his shoulder.

--Still tired?--She nodded yawning--you should get some rest, youre not gonna be able to work if youre tired

She chuckled and their gazes met--funny youd say that

--why?

--dad used to say the same thing--she said it with a melancholic tone, lookig away--when was the last time I called him?..--she shook her head-- nevermind... I should get back to work

Shes about to stand up,but he grabs her hand yanking her back on the bed.

--You should sleep first

--I dont want to sleep...zuwvozah-- she said looking away-- lom veh nom orihom hiril gir...(besides its not the same without you)

--what was that?

--Nothing...forget it

Their eyes meet for a moment and its all he needs to know what to do.

He throws her on the bed turning off the switch and pulling her to his chest while taking her hand.

She doesnt seem to fight it as the world seemed softer now with her head on his chest.

Her fee hand tucked near his side while his free arm hug her waist pulling her closer to him.

She awkwardly looked away, while he covered them both to then take her hand again.

Neither said a Word,but he felt her smile against his chest.

Adler looked at jerico and sighed dreamily,as she softly fell asleep.

"How Long can I Keep this up?" He thought,his factions softening"shes so beautiful like that..."

If he could, hed spend all day with her like this, how he longed for a more simple life, and maybe with her by his side.

For now he decided to enjoy It, and closed his eyes,he could use some rest too.

They maybe get a couple of hours of sleep before they have to Keep working.

That didnt mean however that they wouldnt visit eachother with the silliest of excuses,be it coffee or because they want to know how the planning, or decripting, is going.

Alleysons face contorns in pain as he drinks his coffee, leaning against the wall while talking to both Romina and luana.

--its so painfully obvious that they have a crush on eachother...theyve been flirting non-stop for ten minutes

Rascal grabbed a brush and started to tie her girlfriends hair into a ponytail--They are oblivious and its painful to watch

Luana shrugged passing a hairband to Romina-- its funny though..--she munched on her snack while revising a list making sure they had everything they needed.

--Funny for Romina chuckled and kissed her girlfriends cheek,of course luana wasnt taking none of that and kissed her.

--Thanks babe

--Dont mention it

Alley coos--anyway im gonna finish this--he Walked over to jerico and asked her to talk with him.

He pulled her to one side and leaned on the wall--Its so painfully obvious you two like eachother....for the love of god jerico...just kiss him

Jers cheeks turn bright red, lookig away--hes just being friendly

--He told you you were pretty at least four times

--That doesnt mean he likes me

--You two slept togheter on the same bed

Shes about to say something but then nodds-- I like him a lot,but its just...how do I tell him?

Alleysons expression softens and takes her hand hugging her--hey Man just be yourself okay?

Jeri hugs him tightly and smiles nodding-- im still anxious as shit though

He nodds and puts an arm around her neck--Jealousy it is!

--You acting Straight? What are the odds of that working?

--We Will have to see,after all im a great actor

--with an even greater ego

--...shut up

Jerico was 100% convinced it was not going to work, between his shitty and cheesy pick up lines, to his horrible attempts to look somewhat Straight.

And since the afternoon she was locked in her Office working.

She heard a soft knock against her door--come in!

She instantly recognized those footsteps,and smiled as adlers hand pressed against her back--you got a moment?--he asked

"For you?I have all the time in the world"it was what she wanted to say, instead she nodded and stood up--Whats up?--The Man looked away--russel are you okay?

"To hell with it"he thought and he kissed her,everything seemed to collapse, before he felt her hands against his chest and her lips kissing him back.

He ended up with his back against the wall, his arms around her waist still kissing her.

When they break the kiss their foreheads press against eachother,only for their lips to connect again, neither wanting to let go.

But their hearts ached knowing that stuff would get even worse when everything was said and done.

#💛🌻annoying madonna fan🌻💛#self insert #self ship #my f/os #self shipping #f/o x s/i #romantic f/o #f/o #f/o community #f/o fic #adler tag pending

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paulwalltran · 4 years

Text

Dungeons and Dragons Loneliness

Another interview with lofi music. Today was a pretty shitty day, alot on my mind. Here to unload.

Today’s mood: Fuck it all...

It’s a mad addiction, a horrendous one. It’s all I think about, it’s all I want to talk about. Or almost anything fantasy related. I’ve recently gotten a little closer with one of my co workers. Delerner Banks, everyone calls him Del. He’s always in the tunnel, and always brings warhammer books to read and do work (whatever it is he’s working on.) We talk about fantasy related things all the time, and sometimes we bounce ideas off each other, feeling out our thoughts of settings and lore. Talking to him about some fantasy before leaving work made me feel alot better. The loneliness inside has been eating at me.

I know it’s salt, I know its jealousy, that I’m mad at my friends. They been hanging out more without me, playing cards and shit. Its not a passion of mine, its fun sometimes, but its still not me. Its what they bond over, its what they do together, and that’s what theyre into. If I had to guess, they’re okay with Dungeons and Dragons, but even my best friend said that I take it too serious. Its fallen out of their favor, it eats up a lot of time, and they each have their version of what a fun campaign would be like. In me, I said to myself, “Fine, fuck it. I’ll have to assemble another crew to play with.” Tough situation then isn’t it? Wanting to play a social game that needs bodies, during an age where social gatherings are frowned upon, because they carry a potential to spread a virus... Still, this is what I want to do. I want a group of friends, who share the same passion I do. My current friends must think ill of me, they may just want to hang out. They think that if they come hang with me, I’ll want a game of DnD without a doubt. They just want to chill and kick it, they don’t want to roll dice. But ask me once and I’ll tell you yes twice, to playing DnD.

I love it with all my heart, all of the contents and materials are here, ready to play. No extra investments, no money needed to be spent, we can get going off of nothing like we did back then. A table top roleplaying game, we started with cardboard and lego figures, and just two books to share. But there was fun to be had, and a few heated sessions. But fun it was, the more we played the deeper i grew fond of the game. I’m even willing to experiment with other systems if I have someone to guide me. With cards, you gotta constantly update your arsenal to keep up with the meta, and let’s be real, not playing anything remotely close to meta isn’t as fun. Different formats allow different decks, and to keep current you gotta keep up. I dont have the fundings for it, I dont have the luck. I would rather buy a module that’ll last for years, versus a pack of cards. I have two books that have skyrocketed in value, cards go up and down like stocks. But thats the appeal I suppose, I don’t care for it though.

Back to the thing at hand, I’m in their group chat as they make plans. I can’t be there for all that. But fuck it, that’s all Im going to say. Fuck it, on repeat, until its engraved into my head. Pride is getting the best of me, I refused to be denied again. If it’s not something they want to do, so be it, I need to look out for me in the end. I must muster up the courage to start playing online again, the first one wasn’t bad, but it fell apart. I need to get the courage to be social, and get over the fear that everyone expects you to be a pro player. I’m scared going into this green still, roll20 isn’t my forte. But if I want to play DnD, this seems to be my only option. It may fulfill my wish, to find friends who are just as passionate as I. My other friends, they’re over on the other side. Its fine, it truly is, they have one another, and I need to be strong. I need to find the strength in this loneliness, even though its tearing me apart. My circle becomes smaller, thats just the way of the world. Adapt to survive, be formless like water...

Dungeons and Dragons, my greatest escape. I can be anybody, and do things I normally can’t. I can clobber up bad guys, indecent folk, and finesse my way out of punishment from the law. I can save a village, a town, a kingdom, when I can hardly save myself. I can fly, cast spells, break locks, imagination is my only limit. I can hoard and amass vast amounts of riches, I myself can even become a dragon. I don’t have to be me, although a bit of me resides in everyone I’ve made before. I can never truly separate myself, from those Ive breathed life into. For hours on end, I can go anywhere, do anything, I melt into the world thats placed before me.

Because the reality is that I’m practically shit, and nobody. The world is fucked up and jacked up and spiraling down the drain. I’m mentally fucked and my physicality is pretty much the same. I’m stuck in place when the world is demanding me to change. I lost with no real direction. No map in hand, no guide, and I’m scared out of my mind. I don’t know whether to trust the process or commit suicide. Im not sure where I’ll end up, if it’s good or bad. Im struggling, I’m suffering, and there seems to be no end. I could say I’m trying, but I would be lying, if I had to look at the brighter side. The positive things in life are so hard to identify. But my emotions are raw and hit hard, slamming against the walls in my skull. Demanding me to give them attention...and attention I give them, as they tear me up. Like being pulled at by the limbs, drawn and quartered is the method it seems like today. I was thinking that I couldn’t drink forever, my body would eventually reject. But what if I drank energy drinks on end, a heart attack to get me out of this place. I can down those all day long, so whats stopping me from taking that way out of it? Less grotesque and violent, it’ll probably be painful as hell. An organ seizing up, as the body ceases the function. I get said thinking about it sometimes, but one day, enough will be enough. But damn that lady...damn her for speaking those words... Tomorrow. If nothing is better by tomorrow, then do as you may. But sleep it off, tomorrow is another day.

It’s not verbatim, but its the gist. Just wait for tomorrow, and hopefully things will change. The choice is still mine to make, and something in me pushes me forward, keeps me going on. Sometimes I think about who I’m leaving behind, and maybe how much it’ll hurt. The evil darkness inside me says that they’ll get over it, they have to, and time doesn’t wait. I won’t be immortalized, I’ll simply end up a statistic. That maybe itll be a few years the sadness remains fresh, but wounds always heal. Discrediting my actual existence, and any form of relations. Like I wouldn’t have made any actual impressions, people don’t weep for me now. People kind of forget I exist already, what makes me think they won’t after I’m gone?

I think about my folks, my grandma, my girlfriend, my second family, and other close dear friends. I think about how many last will letters I would have to put out there, before I call for the curtains. Sometimes, I say I will start writing them, but they give me pause. I end up not wanting to leave this world, after pouring out my heart. Because I don’t want to leave any questions behind for people who matter, I want them to know how I felt before I passed. I want to leave with them apart of me, so they would never forget.

Still it doesn’t change, shit is rough as of lately, work has been eating me up. I feel like Im never hundred percent, and me back on gaming is making it worst. I’ve gotten back onto Elder Scrolls Skyrim, its been my virtual version of DnD. Waiting for the Outer World Expansion, so I can get addicted to that again. All I want to do is play Dungeons and Dragons, the question is how do I make that into a living? I think being a Matthew Mercer is one in a million, I don’t think I’m that great. I’m willing to learn, grow, evolve because it is my passion, but I’m always scared of making mistakes. To be one of the greater Dungeon Masters, to be THE Wizards of the Coast Dungeon Master, it may possibly be the dream. To eat, sleep, breathe, Dee en Dee. My obsession isn’t that crazy though, I’m still behind on the lore of creatures and settings, I haven’t studied at all. But with the right drive and motivation, I would, especially with something as real as a legit group.

Enthusiastic players, who show up every week, bi weekly, once every month even, to play this fantastic game. Group of chill folks who is willing to take the Dungeon Master Mantle with I get burned out and have the desire to be in the player seat. One of those is the driving force, they make me want to plan. They make me want to make the world, the style, everything in general better, with the constructive feedback. I mean it’s been so long as I was a player in a campaign until the end, I’m beginning to think paying for a Dungeon Master wouldn’t be so bad. Once a month? A couple of hours? I mean I’m thinking like seven USD per hour? Eight isn’t bad, but after that it becomes a questionable amount. It repeats in my head, “No DnD is better than Bad DnD”, this much is probably still true. I say still because I still might want at least one session with said game, so I can at least say it was the worst after having attempt it, rolling something. Ha ha, I kid myself, I’m lying because I know the rage would be all to real and caution is my game most of the time. But I mean, I just might have to start exploring the idea, I was definitely going to ask on FaceBook if any Roll20 games was recruiting a newbie.

Alas, today won’t be the last time I speak on the matter, Dungeons and Dragons haunt me everyday. I stare at minis, I stare at the upcoming books and modules, and I watch youtube where they tell RPG Horror Stories, Its become a huge part of my life, such as dancing once was. It almost links right into my earliest talents...writing. I love to write, just like I’m doing now. Im fairly decent at the writing game if I must say. Hey, real life failed Bard here, I should make one who always ends up playing big bro, and end up being friendzoned by all his interests. Im short, so Halfling is very true. Am I charismatic? Who knows, I can’t say for sure. But yes, I feel like this is what I need, a solid weekly game, maybe once every two weeks, hell, once every month would still be great. Something to look forward to the very least, in this life of routine and mundane. Something to look forward to for me, something that’s my own. Something I don’t need my closer friends to be apart of, since they’re not interested anyhow. I’m really talking shit because I’m hella salty, but at least I’m being upfront. Get it all out now, before the typing is done.

It’s been a productive session, I may have to attribute it to Lofi it seems. The Lofi Hip Hop Radio on YouTube, also found on Spotify. Some tracks still strike me deep in the chest, giving me horrible flash backs and feeling in my chest. Others keep me going, forward, almost propelling. I’m currently training myself to be accustomed to the sounds, because I at first was very scared. That it would just transport me to a dark place and keep me there. I’ve been trying to confront my feelings more with this music, I think I felt better after last session like this. The more I faced myself, the better I became. Yes, I most definitely referenced Persona 4, another amazing and loved title because of the message it portrays. I always wondered what my shadow self would look like, and what they would say. But eh another time, I’m about to start rambling again. I have to conclude here, before I get off topic.

Until next time Tumblr...

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allthe-queens-men · 5 years

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Sugar Free

John x Roger x Reader (polyamorous triad)

You feel bad about your boys spending their new money on you. So you make a plan to have only cheap and mostly at-home dates for a while.

Chapter 1

At least on tour they have each other. John, more than any of this bandmates, needs the kind of stability that he seems to find in the two of you: you and Roger help him feel grounded when everything still feels so up in the air. And God forbid Roger is left alone for more than a few days. If not for John he would’ve been calling you at 3 AM (his time) every morning. Even if he has nothing of substance to talk about, he needs to be distracted from the empty bed behind him.

You didn’t think you needed any of that. You’re happy to let them go live their dreams while you live yours, and your dreams don’t involve being uprooted for two-thirds of the year. But then your own two-thirds are gone for so long, and you love them so dearly, that the closer the day of their return, the more you find you’ve missed them all along.

Pepper sits with you at the window. She’s purring in the rare mid-September sun, eyes shut, perfectly content.

You wait.

And wait.

‘We just landed. We’ll be home soon!’ John had texted you some three hours ago. The airport isn’t right there in London, but it isn’t so far away either. And this morning that hour-drive distance is feeling greater than halfway around the world.

Part of you wants to step away, brew a relaxing cup of tea. But what if they pulled up in the meantime? You wouldn’t be there to welcome them home after seven long months. A few more minutes –your fingertips drumming erratically on the windowsill— couldn’t hurt.

“Your dads are coming home today, Pep.” But the wise creature probably already knows. You’d been flitting about the flat like a hummingbird, cleaning the tidy space spotless. You’d nearly stepped on her tail twice. And once actually did. But Pepper is a compassionate old girl –she understands.

An old black sedan pulls up out front. It was one of so many cars like it that had already passed by today. It’s so unremarkable that you don’t recognize this one as Brian’s. It had left with your boys back in February and was delivering them home today. You finally see the silhouette of his large mop of curls in the driver’s seat, and you all but fly off the sofa. Your eyes remain glued to the car, though, in case it was just your frenzied mind getting the best of you just now. But then you catch John climbing out of the back seat, dressed in khaki shorts and a t-shirt to take advantage of the pleasant weather. The way he shakes out his soft hair and pushes his bangs to the side light a candle in your soul as you grin from ear to ear.

He retrieves his bag from the boot and stands there, just off the pavement, waiting for something. Or someone.

Roger climbs out now, less graceful than John but still making it look effortless even when his boot catches on the back of Freddie’s seat. He pulls his hair out of his face and pushes his glasses back up his nose. He goes around back, shouting something incoherent to the car’s remaining occupants, and grabs his own luggage out of the back. A pat to John’s lower back briefly becomes a squeeze around his waist, and then he’s racing up the stairs.

He trips in his excitement, and it sets you to laughing. It’s the last glimpse you can get of them (John helping Roger to his feet again) before they disappear behind the wall.

You can’t wait any longer.

You tear yourself away from the window with Pepper hot on your tail as you rush to meet them at the door. You catch yourself against the wall just as the door is flung open, and in come the two loves of your life.

With a shout of your name Roger pulls you into a crushing embrace. You eagerly press your face into his shoulder, breathing in his cologne. You try to hug him back just as tight; he’s never really home until he can feel it in every nerve ending. Having you back in his arms is a good start. John sidesteps around the two of you and bends down to scratch behind Pepper’s ear. He knows he’ll get his turn. In the meantime he’s content with the cat.

“I’ve missed you so much you wouldn’t believe!” Roger exclaims when he’s loosened the hold up enough to breathe.

“You really probably wouldn’t,” John says, scooping Pepper up in his arms. She starts purring again –he’s always been her favorite.

“You think you’ve missed me? I had to do without both of you!” You’re joking, of course. You mean to, anyway. But you also know it’s a bit of a sore subject that the three of you try to work around as much as possible. “But at least I had Pepper.”

Your attempt to placate them doesn’t work on them, but John smiles and brushes your arm with his free hand. It’s a fleeting but warm and gentle touch. “Well, you don’t have to do without us now.”

“And we’ve got something big planned to make it up to you.” Roger takes you by the hand and leads you back to the lounge. “So I know we’ve been away for a while, but John and I have both been meaning to get away, just the three of us. I think it would be good for all of us.”

You sit down, John setting Pepper down and sitting next to you. “What would?”

“We’re planning a holiday to Paris.”

“Oh.” You nod, and try to match his excitement. “Sounds great!” It doesn’t work. But you had been to Paris twice before, and you were really hoping to just have some time with them at home. Something else is weighing on you now, too: something more amorphous.

Roger’s hands fall at his side. “Well, don’t be too excited now,” he teases, but you can hear the edge of hurt in his voice.

“What’s wrong, love?” John leans his chin on your shoulder. You want to relax back against him, but you’re terribly tense. John shoots Roger a look and he sits on the other side of you.

“Sorry. Maybe Paris isn’t the best idea right now?”

“No, I-…” You don’t know how to describe it. “I… As much as I’d love to go away just the three of us, I think I just want you home more than anything.”

“Oh.” And Roger is nothing if not adaptable. “Well I’ll call that fancy Parisian restaurant downtown and we’ll celebrate with dinner there tonight.”

You nod, lips drawn tight in a smile. John lets you go to go get dressed.

“This place takes months to get a table,” John says as they pull up to the restaurant. “Are you sure we actually have a reservation?”

“Relax, babe, I know the owner.”

John rolls his eyes, and Roger grins and pulls him in for a hard kiss to his cheek. He doesn’t let go until John smiles –“Alright, alright, get off me before we’re late!”— and you laugh as you walk alongside them. But as entertaining as their antics are, you feel the sinking pit in your gut again as you see just how high end the place really is. They charge exorbitant prices for the tiniest portions they can get away with. You make decent money with your job, but you know you can’t afford this kind of outing –and so you know who’s going to be footing the bill. You try not to feel too ill for the wine Roger orders for the table.

On the walk back to the flat the boys get into an argument about something too silly for them to remember by the time you get home. You’re not paying attention to all of that; you’re trying to figure out what felt so wrong about tonight, and once you can explain it to yourself, how you can explain it to John and Roger.

“Y/N?” John’s voice is so tinged with concern that you feel you need to put on a smile to put him at ease, but that doesn’t last more than a few seconds. “Are you alright?”

You sigh and lean on the front door of your building. “No, I don’t think I am.”

He frowns deeply and touches your waist. “What’s wrong?”

“Can we get inside yet?” You look down to Roger grabbing the post from the box, and then back to John. He’s as handsome as when he left, but visibly tired. “I don’t want to have this conversation outside. It’s getting chilly.”

“I’ve lost the box key!” Roger calls as he hops up the steps to join you.

John laughs softly. “We’re never getting them back, then.”

“I probably stuffed them somewhere in my bag.”

“Or they’re somewhere in Kyoto.”

“Ye of little faith.” He playfully pinches John’s cheek and pulls his house key out of his pocket. “We’ll see when we get inside.”

“Actually—” You’re hesitant to cut in, but you quickly have both their attention. “I want to talk. All three of us.”

“Oh. Alright.”

You get inside and, with both your boyfriends sitting on the couch in front of you, you go into your loosely rehearsed spiel.

“Now that you boys are making money and, well, lots of it— I understand if you want to spend some of it on me, but I can’t help feeling like a burden or… worse… a gold digger, when you drops hundreds of dollars on dinner like that.”

Roger’s face is burning as he sinks into the cushions.

“I don’t mean—… I know you mean well, Rog. I know you’re just trying to show that you love us. But I don’t have that kind of money to spend on you and it makes me feel selfish, or like I’m taking advantage of your new fame.” You don’t know what to do with your hands, so you just let them bob against your thighs. “So I guess those are my hang-ups tonight. Any questions?” You ask in jest, an attempt to lighten the mood. You’re surprised when John raises his hand. You awkwardly point to him, unsure of what to expect (you thought it was all pretty straightforward, if not a little muddled in the delivery).

“How can we help you feel better?”

You look between them, their eyes asking the same question. You feel an unexpected wave of relief wash over you, and squeeze yourself between them, ready for a long brainstorm session.

When you finally go to bed, you all have the plan in mind and feel much better for it. You sleep between your boys tonight, safe and excited.

@deacydeac @anotheronebitesthedeaks @sarcasticc-sunshin-e @im-happy-at-home @be-the-cheese-to-my-toast

#john deacon #roger taylor #john deacon x reader #roger taylor x reader #dealor #sugarfreefic

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astralaffairs · 5 years

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all that glitters ∙ overture | angelica schuyler

you didn't expect that going to college, taking classes there, would mean meeting a siren -- let alone one disguised as anything but. yet, when you did, even after you realized, you were more than prepared to throw yourself overboard into raging waters at her song

word count: 1800

warnings: nada in the overture; also this is NOT a siren au it's j a metaphor; second hand embarrassment

a/n: hope y'all like this, im kinda trying smth different atm 👀

{✨}

THUS FAR, YOU had had exactly four interactions with Angelica Schuyler. Half of them were questionable to even have been counted as such.

First off, let's jump right into the list. You bumped into her getting off the shuttle to the east side of campus. Quite literally. Classes didn't start for a week, you were just moving into your dorm, you didn't know anyone, and the last thing you needed was to be on bad terms with someone before you knew them. You looked up to see the person who your shoulder had just hit, and you froze. That was the day she first caught your attention. Dark, curly hair, a strong, sharp jaw, dimples so deep they adorned her cheeks despite her frown, and high cheekbones. You were slightly mesmerized, if only for a moment, before she cleared her throat, walking past you onto the bus. You mumbled a "sorry" as she passed, she said nothing, and that was that. Luckily for you, campus was big, and you were small, so the odds of having to worry about her were slim.

Less than a week later, your phone buzzed as you were tacking up a tapestry to the wall of your dorm. Not bothering to pause your shuffled combination of soft indie pop, hard rap, and show tunes, you turned on your screen and tapped on your first notification.

Angelica Schuyler (@angelischuy) has requested to follow you.

You frowned. You didn't recognize the name, so you clicked over to her profile, and the first thing to catch your eye was not her profile picture or any pictures succeeding it, but her bio, reading 'Columbia '21'. With the understanding that this was apparently someone who went to school with you as of now, you clicked to her recent, trying to see if you knew the girl.

You inhaled sharply.

The warm brown eyes and soft contour of her cheeks had you recognizing her instantly, despite the fact that you had seen her face only for a split second before. You put your phone down with hands that shook little enough for you to ignore it, and you went back to your task. After that, though, you couldn't ignore the nagging question at the back of your mind: Did she only follow you simply because of your school, or, by some divine intervention, was this girl following you because she happened to recognize you, too?

So that brings us to the first two interactions, in which no words were even exchanged. The third, though, was of a nature ever-so-slightly different. A week and a day after that first interaction marked the first day of classes, and Angelica was in your international human rights law seminar.

It, unfortunately, turned out to be your 8 AM, but as a particular semi-familiar face slid into the seat next to you at the back of the room, bright-eyed and smelling like coffee, you found yourself less able to complain about being there when you were. All she offered you at the beginning of the class was a tight-lipped smile and a nod (you had yet to understand how rare her smiles were, forced or otherwise), and you proceeded like that for the next three classes. The interaction came at the end of the third class when the professor dismissed you all, and she turned to you with a small frown.

"Hey, Y/N, do you know what Professor Von Steuben was saying about the video he had linked on legal qualifications of genocide?" Her dark brow was tightly knit, and you again found yourself frozen. She knew your name. "Like, I get that's what we have to watch to prepare for next class and all, but how did he say we were supposed to access it?"

"Oh! Uh, I don't know." Why did you say that? You did know; you could've just told her. You blinked stupidly. "Sorry."

She just dismissed it with a frown and a hum of acknowledgment as she slid her books back into her back and stood up to leave. You were internally screaming, your gaze fixed on your desk, waiting until she was out of the room to move.

And finally, four.

Four weeks in, as a matter of fact. Four was arguably the worst one; the greater the attempt at interaction the more it seemed to screw you over. Four was the one that left you anxious and overanalyzing, left you considering direct messaging her to apologize for how damn awkward you were.

The day proceeded the same as any other. You showed up half asleep, Angelica found the seat next to yours minutes before the lecture began, and that was that. You took notes on your laptop; she scrawled them in messy script across the pages of her notebook. Ten minutes left, and you were set up to leave class unscathed. Seven minutes had you drumming your fingers on the trackpad of your laptop. Five had you bouncing your knee restlessly, but it was four that really body checked you directly into the brick wall on thr side of a dank alleyway. Four minutes left; four minutes to ruin your self-confidence.

"Now, I have a handout for you," your professor said as she walked across the front of the lecture hall. "An exercise in thought. Due to the nature of this, I want all work, opinions, ideas, etcetera written on the physical paper for this assignment. No laptops will be permitted."

You did your best not to contribute to the collective groan that rippled through the room as you closed your laptop, following suit of many of your classmates.

"Don't sound so excited," Mrs. Knox commented dryly. "I am not going to have you spend the next--" She lifted her wrist, briefly eyeing her watch. "--four minutes completing this, but it will be your only homework between now and the next time we meet."

And then, a quiet murmur of conversation picked back up throughout the lecture hall, people passing papers back, talking about them, packing up to finally get out of there. You let out a short huff at the instructions as the papers reached the far end of your row, making it closer to you. You'd always had a tendency to lose any paper that came into your possession, so you weren't sure this would be a fun time. You pulled your bag into your lap and began stuffing everything but one folder in -- just so you wouldn't lose this this time.

When everything was in, you glanced up to check on the status of the handout, just to see that the pile had reached the row behind you, seemingly having passed right over you, and you glanced at Angelica to your right. She had the back of a pen between her teeth, her expression as nonchalany as ever as she leafed through the stapled papers.

You almost groaned; the packet seemed to have passed you -- but that was when you noticed an extra copy sitting on the desk in front of you, just offset from Angelica's notebook. Had she grabbed one of them for you?

A soft, slightly lopsided smile came to your lips, and you turned to her with slight hesitation.

"Hey, uh, can I get one of those?" you asked, motioning to the papers in front of her with as nonchalantly friendly of an expression as you could pull (you were sure it came off as stiffly as you felt, though).

She stared at you for a moment, blinked, the pen still between her teeth. "No."

FUCK, holy SHIT, what did I do this time, am I really this fucking stupid, oh my GOD, Y/N, what the FUCK are you thinking, oh my god, dumb bitch you really did it this time--

Wait. Somehow, somewhere, in the midst of your panic, you'd managed to take a social cue from that. She was being sarcastic. God, she was actually making something of a joke with you. It was written more clearly than your dumb ass could see, in her smiling eyes and raised brow and at the amused ghost of a grin playing at the very corners of her lips. Maybe you weren't hopeless after all.

OH but GOD, how do I RESPOND to this?? With more sarcasm? What the fuck, I shouldn't have tried to interact. I should've just taken a 0 on the assignment. It's not fine, FUCK--

As her eyebrows rose slightly more, almost as a challenge, you realized you'd been staring at her for a moment too long.

"Thanks, really appreciate it," you replied, trying to match her sarcasm -- but coming off way more dry and annoyed and cold than intended. Fuck, why did pretty girls have to have this effect on you?

She looked at you for a moment longer, before averting her attention back to the paper in her hand. But she did so passing you the extra paper in the process.

You took it wordlessly from her outstretched hand, glancing at her expression warily. She didn't seem to care what was happening with you any longer -- she'd made whatever assessment she was going to make, and you just wanted to get the hell out of there. You tucked the paper into your (only) folder before tossing your backpack onto your shoulder and turning to leave.

You could only think of one thing on the way out though, and it wasn't your plans for the rest of the day, and it wasn't how interesting the lecture had been, and it wasn't the weather, or the question of where your friends were, or what was being served for lunch in the closest dining hall.

I think you can guess what it was.

Because, FUCK, you couldn't believe how oblivious you were sometimes. Had you come off as a total bitch? Was that just how she reacted to people? Had your response to sarcasm not seemed like a joke? Was she going to hate you for the rest of her life now?

Only a small corner of your reasonable mind was there to stop you from DMing her in an anxious panic to explain that you really weren't a mean person.

You didn't stop thinking about it for the rest of your night.

So there they were. The four horsemen of your particular apocalypse, the dramatic build-up to an arguably more dramatic disappointment.

They didn't sound quite as bad as they felt.

But regardless, these were the facts of the case, and this was the only existing premise for the events that were then set to transpire, that were perhaps already even put into motion by some higher power behind the scenes.

You didn't know it yet, but those four events would spiral into something much bigger for you. Don't put them out of your mind yet, because sooner than you realize, you won't be able to.

#hamilton x reader #hamilton fanfic #hamilton #hamilton one shot #lafayette #lafayette x reader #john laurens x reader #angelica schuyler x reader #peggy schuyler x reader #all that glitters #eliza schuyler x reader #maria reynolds x reader #thomas jefferson x reader #hercules mulligan x reader #james madison x reader #alexander hamilton x reader #modern au #college au #coffee shop au

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everythingandeveryplace · 5 years

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*Thorns part 6 Eric x OC*

He was on administrative lockdown, locked down in the pits, his knuckles bleeding and his lip busted.

“It’s just until you calm down. You almost killed Elliot Eric. I know you have a temper but we can’t have you attacking everyone in the faction.” Max sighed, running a hand over his face, he looked exhausted and Eric couldn’t help but feel as though he was being scolded, he scoffed.

“This is Dauntless, if he can’t handle a beating he doesn’t fucking belong here.” He growled, throwing a fist into the nearest wall.

Max rolled his eyes and made his way to the door

“Get some rest, I’ll be back in a while.”

As soon as he heard the click of the lock he threw himself on the workout mat closest to the wall, dropping his arm over his eyes. Fucking Elliot Wells.. the fight was far from over, if he thought he could just run his mouth about his girl he had another thing coming.

His girl.

I mean she was wasn’t she? He didn’t think she was kissing anyone else the way she did him and he definitely wasn’t dry humping anyone else against the apartment halls. He wasn’t the boyfriend type, that much was clear but he could be.. for her he would do anything.. maybe that made him some kind of bitch and maybe his dumbass friends would want to run their mouths but he didn’t care, they didn’t get to feel her skin pressed against theirs or watch the way her eyes lit up when she hit the target at weapons practice.. they’d never get to see the way her lips looked swollen and rose red after a kiss.

He fell asleep to thoughts of her vanilla skin and Bambi brown eyes until he was violently shaken awake, Tris was standing in front of him, eyes wide and wet, Four was standing by the door and he looked just as panicked.

“Wake up! Wake up now!” Tris pulled at his arm, tugging him to his feet.

“What the fuck? What are you doing? What the hell is the matter?” Eric ripped his arm free of Tris’ grasp her nails digging into the muscle of his bicep.

“She’s gone! They sent her.. she’s gone! Did you know?! How could you let this happen!” She shouted, her voice shaky as she pushed at his chest

“Who’s gone! What are you talking about!” Maybe it was the fact that he’d been ripped from his sleep or the fact that it was dark and cold down in the pits but he wasn’t thinking straight.. he couldn’t think at all, he hardly even flinched when four threw his body into his and shoved him against the wall.. his arm on his neck to keep him in place.

“Was it all a joke to you? Did they ask you to do it? To play with her like that.. to keep her distracted before they sent her back! Like she was some kind of fucking pound dog?!” Four growled, his teeth bared and his face twisted in anger.

Eric shoved against fours grip, pushing him back

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re..” He trailed off, his head snapping towards Four “Ella..” he whispered “where the fuck is Ella?” His eyes flicked between four and tris frantically.

“Like you don’t know! Your best friend Max was in charge of it all!” Tris had her arms crossed tight around her chest trying desperately to conceal her anxiety, disguising it as anger.

“Tell me what the fuck is going on!” Eric spit, halfway between the open doorway and Fours slightly wavering stance.

“They sent her to the factionless.. she’s human bait.. a distraction so that we can infiltrate.. it’s a suicide mission. They’ll kill her for being a traitor, they sent her so that their leader Dante would be focused on getting revenge he wouldn’t realize our troops are following closely behind her.. you.. you didn’t know.” Four trailed off before his eyes widened “Eric you can’t..”

But it was too late, Eric had taken off down the halls of Dauntless, heavy combat boots rapping against the ground as he rushed into Max’s office instantly gripping him by the neck and pushing him into the wall, fingers tightening around the much smaller mans throat.

“Eric.. Eric it wasn’t me.. it wasn’t my call I tried to stop them.. I did.. I didn’t want..” Max choked, his breathing ragged as Eric tightened his grip.

“You’re in charge! You make the decisions! You expect me to believe it wasn’t you who sent her there.. who did then huh? Who sent her?!” He was sparatic, he could hardly focus on anything other than the man who had sent Ella to her death.

“Me. I did. I sent the girl back.”

Eric whipped around at the slightly familiar voice.

Jeanine.

He should have known.

Eric let Max slip from his fingers and rounded in on the prim and proper woman, ignoring the guards scattered around the room.

“Who the fuck are you to send her back there? She’s walking into a loaded gun.. you sent her to be murdered!” He stuttered, he vaguely registered Four and Tris coming to stand behind him.. they were on his side. There was rage building in his body, if he snapped the woman’s neck, if he cracked her skull against the corner of the desk how fast would they kill him?

“She knew she would be going back, being here was only temporary. She had a job to do and she executed it flawlessly, she’s a brave young woman and she’s doing this for her faction. She’s sacrificing herself for the greater good... she saw that.” Jeanine nodded firmly, a slow smile on her lips. The sight of her purple painted lips tilting upwards made Eric’s stomach flip and turn, he wanted to kill her.

It didn’t make sense.. why would she willingly walk into the fire? Why would she give herself up.. unless she felt that was her purpose.. that’s why she had held him so close and kissed him so tenderly.. she didn’t think she had a choice but to leave him..

Maybe before.. before she made friends, before she found a purpose..a position here in dauntless, before everything... before him.

“We’re going now. We’re raiding them now and we’re getting her out of there.. Alive.” There were no means for argument, Eric turned to Four.

“I’m with you brother. I’m right behind you.” He nodded tightly, determination in his eyes, he’d never seen Eric like this before.. it was commonly known around the faction that the tattooed man cared only for himself, he would kill anything or anyone that got in his way consequences be damned. But here he was, focused solely on the tiny brunette who had stolen his heart.. it was strangely amazing to see.

“You can’t just decide..” Jeanine huffed, quickly being interrupted by Eric

“I’ve decided not to take that stapler to your face.. don’t press your luck.. we’re going to get my girl.. and we’re going now. Gather your army.” He didn’t look back not once, he kept his eyes trained on the road from the moment he attached himself to the side of the Dauntless tank to the second the factionless compound came into view.

Eric was willing to do whatever it took, he didn’t know how long she’d been in there.. what they’d done to her..but they’d pay.. he just hoped he wasn’t too late.

They made it through the gated underground community without being spotted, it was only when they barged through the doors of the run down factory building that it became very clear to the factionless exactly what was going on. They’d scrambled to get there weapons but there were too few of them, they were underprepared, clearly not ready for battle. Jeanine had been right.. they were distracted.. the reason for the distraction was currently being shoved past the gates, a man around Eric’s age and height was trying to sneak Ella out of the compound.. his grip tight on the bruised and battered girl.

“Ella!” Eric called to her, relief flooding his body when she whipped towards his voice, he saw just the slightest bit of relief behind her battered face before she was wrenched away from the iron gate by her hair.. that must be Dante. He saw red, charging towards the gate his gun lifted directly at the space in between the dark haired man eyes.

“No!” Ella shook her head aggressively, watery eyes wide “don’t shoot him, you need him.. you need his information!”

“I don’t give a shit about what he’s hiding.” The gun clicked in anticipation as Eric lined himself against the gate, he couldn’t get in it was locked but Dante seemed frozen to the spot, fear sketched across his face at Eric’s hard, cold and glazed eyes.

“I’m gonna enjoy this” he sneered, fingers tightening around the trigger, the man fell to the ground screaming shoving Ella into the gate on instinct.

Eric stared at Dante writhing on the ground then back to his gun. He hadn’t shot it.

“Ella!” Tris ran towards the shaking brunette embracing her in a tight hug “I didn’t think it would work, thank god eric had him distracted while we snuck back here.” Her green eyes fell in disgust to the man laying on the floor. “He’ll live, it was a dart gun.. he’s just temporarily paralyzed. Come on! Let’s get you out of here.” She reached for Ella’s hand immediately dropping it when the girl in question let out a sob, clutching at her side and cradling her wrist. “It’s broken.. and my fingers.” Her fingers were all twisted funny, obviously individually broken, erics sharp inhalation of breath had Ella turning back to the gate.

“You weren’t supposed to come after me.. you were supposed to understand.. you’re a soldier like me.. you were supposed to let me die.” She whispered, tucking herself into Tris’s side and allowing the taller girl to pull her back to the tanks, Four was cuffing Dante went he looked back to Eric.

“She’s never going to think she’s worth anything.. her parents made sure of that when she was younger.. just like yours did. She needs you man, and you need her.” He didn’t day anything else, just hauled the screaming man to his feet and disappeared amongst the shrapnel leaving Eric to gather the rest of the troops, his mind in something else entirely.

*****

“Im okay Tris.. im just tired and my ribs hurt.. I just need a hot shower and a nap.” She smiled weakly, taking the stairs one at a time slowly tried hovering behind her.

“You sure you don’t want me to stay with you? Or you could stay with me? Just so someone’s there to help you?” Her friend gently helped her up the last step, pushing at the small of her back.

“I told you it’s okay, it’s not like I haven’t been beaten up before.. this is Dauntless.” Ella teased half heartedly.

“Beaten up” is different than three broken ribs an entirely broken hand, a concussion and pretty severe blood loss.” The short haired blonde raised a brow, before her eyes zeroed in on something in the distance, a guilty kind of smile gracing her lips as she backed away “but if you’re sure you’ll be fine.. I better get back to Four, He was just with Max.. I’ll get you all the details on the morning.” She bent down and pressed a kiss to her friends cheek before shooting down the stairs leaving Ella to limp to her apartment door on her own.

Or atleast she thought she was alone.

Eric was leaning against her apartment door, arms crossed and that stern look on his handsome face.

“Oh no.” She mumbled, fumbling in her pockets for her keys “Eric.. I’m really tired.. I don’t think I have it in me to fight right now.. I just want..”

She was instantly cut off when Erics arms circled around her, pulling her into his body with a softness she didn’t know he possessed. His face buried in her hair and his hands slipped under her ripped T-shirt to rest on her back, the contrast of his warm fingers on her ice cold back made her shiver and she couldn’t help but melt into him. He pulled his face to hers dropping his forehead to hers, he had to duck because of the height difference but soon his eyes were seeking out hers. They were so different in appearance, he was all light an clear while she was dark and rich but still there was something so similar in the way he held himself, similar weight on both of their shoulders.

She was so sore and so tired both mentally and physically that when his arms reached under her knees and hoisted her into his arms she didn’t fight it, she simply nestled into his neck closed her eyes. She didn’t open them until she felt him place her gently on her bed, the mattress dipping when he joined her, his arms wrapping around her tiny broken body and molding himself around her.

“Sleep baby. I’m right here.” He whispered, fingers brushing her curls away from her neck.

They had so much to talk about.. argue about.. but right now?

Right now they had each other..

And that was enough.

#divergent #divergent eric #eric coulter #eric x oc #insurgent #tris and four #jai courtney #eric coulter fanfiction #maia mitchell #the fosters #eric x oc imagine #eric coulter imagine #eric imagine #eric fanfic #eric x oc fanfic #divergent imagine #divergent fanfic

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autumn-foxfire · 2 years

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Bear with me, I'm not good at asks. Comparing with western comics the heros here are government employees or army with lmited agency of their own. We saw it in each fight and even the emptyness of Endeavor's rank as not a real position with greater access to info than peers. Where Im getting at is, its not that Endeavor made this plan. It was Eraserhead, All Might nd Hawks while he and Jeanist were busier searching. He looked upset on seeing the plans. Problem only arises if Hori makes him*

*Problem arises if like Star and Stripe arc(so frustrating) Hori makes him do nothing again after just appearing in that panel. Even ignoring Shoto's protests on the wall video(if it was a call)since Shoto was so insistent on doing it together would be bad and I'm tired already but still something. Shotos takeover of dad's roles mystery 2? Just no more making a off-paneled development explained without showing their talks. Pretty sure they would have argued and copromised if not for Bakugo in319

*Also clarifying that when I say Endeavor didn't make the plan doesn't mean I'm saying he didn't have a say in it, just that like the last war he himself is content being the hero's bloodhound but other than that too nobody gives him any information(Tsukauchi refused to tell the No 1 hero confidential details made his position look unreal). Theres also the chance we see Hori making him reject the plan to fight Dabi and volunteering to go after AFO for some reason which if good could also work. *

*After all this is the man who and whose doctor took a shining to his missing son. The doctor is the basis for quirk doomsday which led to quirk marriages so the connection to Garki who is a fan over Dabi because of his theory has flimsy relation. I wish Horikoshi could have developed some other characters like AFO's old villains and relation to him and other pros. A vigilantes character and Nagant were only other characters who were in the know about AFO from before other than All Might squad.

You're right about Endeavor being more of the bloodhound than the planner which is a little strange when you consider that this man is known for solving the most cases and capturing villains. You'd think they'd want his brain involved too, especially as the manga didn't establish that he wasn't the brains behind these captures too (I mean it's not too unbelievable to think that he got his sidekicks to do his detective work but I'd like to think that wasn't the case).

I wish the manga had established a little more why the current top hero wasn't as involved, either because he was too compromised with Dabi or because they felt he needed to be on the field. It would have just been some nice character moment for Endeavor to see him react to this in some way.

We know now that he's not facing Dabi and is facing AFO but we don't know if he had any part in this. I'm hoping he did make a conscious decision to allow Shouto to fight Dabi because he couldn't as he would be needed to keep AFO at bay but I'll have to wait and see.

As for with Garaki, I'm kind of disappointed we haven't had more focus on him since his arrest. He's just gone from the manga despite the propositions he's brought up never having been addressed. Though I'm not sure how Hori is going to address the doomsday theory at this point...

I do agree that I wish more villains around AFO would have been fleshed out, sadly only those related to the league specifically get this honor T-T

#bnha #bnha manga spoilers #thanks for the ask!!

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midcing · 6 years

Text

okay so i have some New Kids.... they are all trash but some of them are trying their best which should honestly count for something imho... i’ll probably bring some more muses in at some point during this week bc i legit have 25 apps in my drafts right now and i just didn’t apply for all at once bc didn’t want to overwhelm myself... honestly tho? i want all the plots.... so like... pls like this and i’ll im you or come to me throwing ideas at my face so we plot and have some connections and threads ?? love my new trash sons pls ?? thanks !

JAMES WEST looks an awful lot like CHARLIE WEBER. HE is THIRTY NINE and while they’re LOGICAL, they have a tendency to get pretty CONTRARY. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to POLARIZE by TWENTYONEPILOTS.

inspired by ;; frank delfino from htgawm, walter white from breaking bad and jaime lannister from game of thrones.

a lawyer

has 2 daughters.

would probably start a war for both of them if they asked him to.

thinks his daughters are angels who can do no wrong. if he saw them murdering someone in front of him, he would probably come up with a reason why they were doing it and defend them which isn’t great bc they are both like wild kids who are not actual angels ( wc ?? anyone ?? i’m trash for families ngl )

sketchy morals at best? ? doesn’t think of himself as someone who would do anything wrong but if something wrong is being done for his benefit he is sure as hell not gonna stop it

got into an ivy league school because his father - criminal known for money laundering, corruption, and fraud - donated a huge sum of money to the college. will die pretending he got in on his own merit

the older brother of my character mark west bc i love families sue me

would probably google ‘how to know if i am a dilf’

says thing like ‘lit’ and ‘on fleek’ to relate to the youth

pretends everything is fine until it blows up in his face

wants to much ! a perfect life, a perfect house, a perfect family, a perfect wife, a perfect job ! pretty good ? nah. not good enough for james west. scratch that and start again. everything must be 10/10

wants to be everybody’s dad even tho he isn’t a great dad to his two kids

will make your life choices for you if you let him

will bail you out of jail but only if he is allowed to give you a 3 hour lecture on Responsibility

will logic his way out of moral conundrums

the kind of person that turns a blind eye to corruption if it benefits him in some way

tries his best, which really honestly can only be said about 5% of my characters, so i would give him some credit

if you ask him a question he doesn’t want to answer he will just straight up ignore the question and change the subject

feels guilty about the way his helps criminals and does wrong stuff for his benefit and the benefit of the people he loves but also doesn’t try to change

aesthetics — watching the sunset through the office window, loud alarms playing an hour later than it should, unrecognizable reflection in the mirror, child laughter and the heavy feeling of stress in your chest, hushed whispers of assertions amidst a crowd, old wedding rings saved away after the divorce, big houses and empty space, thousand dollar watches, the smell of jail permanently stuck to a three piece suit, painfully happy memories, ignoring the way guilt makes it hard to breath, arguing in a favor of a guilty party.

FRANK HAMILTON looks an awful lot like DAVID HARBOUR. HE is FORTY ONE and while they’re DEVOTED, they have a tendency to get pretty UNPRINCIPLED. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to SEDATED by HOZIER.

inspired by ;; hank from detroit become human and chief hopper from stranger things

tw: gambbling, alcoholism

a mess trying to pass for a functioning human being

he is a dirty cop that accepts bribes to let people off the hook and gets money from gangs to look the other way when he knows they will be doing something wrong somewhere bc he truly cannot bring himself to care

honestly i have no excuses for his behavior

has a huge problem with gambling.

born in kola. lived in kola for almost 30 years. moved out after his marriage fell apart, but has recently moved back

the kind of human being who thinks blood and gasoline are sexy

the kind of person that goes All Fucking Out for things and then when things don’t turn out exactly how he expected them to he makes a fuss about it and goes like “why did i even bother?”

will call you out on your bullshit and then act like people just throw shit at other’s face like that. stare you in the eye after exposing you and ask ‘what?’

says stuff like ‘i might be a shitty person but at least i’m upfront about it’ and ‘i prefer not to get involved in people’s lives.’

there is no such thing as a acquaintances. frank either loves you with all his heart and would kill a man for you OR he hates you and the fact that you are able to talk annoys him

you’ve heard of overachivers ?? well frank is here to present you A True Underachiever. he tries to do the bare minimum amount of work possible

the personification of /r/notmyjob

would probably go to an underground fighting ring for fun

channels his unhappiness into unhealthy habits. drinks too much, smokes too much. doesn’t do anything to change the fact that he is unhappy

gambled his marriage away by which i mean he gambled everything owned away and kept trying to find excuses for it until she was done and left . he still loves her but he feels like shit and he doesn’t wanna drag her back into his shitty life ( wc ? pls ? )

moved away from kola when his marriage ended and went to las vegas. lived there until he got in dept there too and he couldn’t find anywhere else to play then came back to kola

at some point was wide-eyed and hopeful and interested in helping people but slowly became unhappy with how he didn’t go anywhere, didn’t become better, greater, didn’t do more and then slowly things just went to shit

aesthetics — casual cruelty in the name of honesty, cigarette buds collecting on an old ashtray, crumbled dollar bills found between couch cushions, falling asleep at three o’clock and waking up the next day, bloody knuckles, handcuffs and police siren, the smell of alcohol in your breath at ten in the morning, unironed shirts and old cologne, knowing something is wrong but doing it anyway, ignored calls from concerned family members, remembering you have to do something just as it is too late to do it, the thrill in heartbeat when you land a punch in someone’s face, drunk steps stumbling out of the bar, begging people for one more chance.

SEBASTIAN “BASH” VANCOOP looks an awful lot like LIAM PAYNE. HE is TWENTY TWO and while they’re CHARMING, they have a tendency to get pretty SELFISH. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to PLAY ME LIKE A VIOLIN by JEREMY.

inspired by ;; hakeem lyon from empire and aaron burr from hamilton

that one sort of famous person that is always shirtless in other famous’ people instagram stories

treats people like things he can use and drop when he gets tired of

fake af. will say he likes you and then shit talk about you behind your back

that one person that goes ‘ooooooooooh you are gonna let them talk like that about you ?? ’ when other people are fighting

only wears prada chanel and gucci

can actually be really nice if you get to know him but how ? when there are three hundred walls up ??

thinks people are gonna take advantage of him or make fun of him so he just doesn’t trust anyone. can’t get betrayed if you never let anyone in right ??

doesn’t understand internet culture

was born in an insanely rich family. his father was a famous movie producer and his mother was a famous movie star. picture like spielberg as his dad and kate winslet as his mom

hates when people say like ‘Oh So You Are [ ]’s son?’

the first movie he was ever in was when he was about 5

he was in a bunch of movies from ages 5 to 12 but it was never really anything big. he was just the main character’s kid or that one kid that doesn’t get much screen time in movies like goonies

he never really liked acting but what else woUld he do ?? look at his family !! look at his legacy !! [ cue ‘wait for it’ from the hamilton soundtrack playing in the background ]

when he was 20 his father produced and directed a movie in which he stared. it was like his first Real role in hollywood action blockbuster. before the movie was out there was this whole hype about him and his dad working together and wow it’ll be awesome but it pretty much bombed. picture like After Earth bomb. everyone shit talking about him and the movie and how dumb it is on youtube bomb. the movie doesn’t get money to pay for itself bomb.

despite the fact that his parents said it didn’t matter. it was just a bad movie. everyone making fun of him and people shit talking about how he didn’t have his parents’ talent got to him real bad. he stopped acting all together.

his parents keep telling him to Do Something but he just doesn’t

is living in kola bc LA is a dumb of reminder of everything he thinks he did wrong

aesthetics — the blinding lights of camera flashes, the light feeling of being drunk, loud songs blaring through club speakers, interviews stopped halfway through, rude comments and anger, crowded parties in expensive summer homes, the overwhelming feeling in your chest when someone gets too close to fast, feigned charm and stranger’s company, running out of things to say after you have known someone for a while, wasted champagne dripping off a tilted bottle and loud laughter coming from the other room, the slow but continues pain in your heart that reminds you you are disappointment.

MATTHEW “MATTEO” DECKER looks an awful lot like JON BERNTHAL. HE is FORTY TWO and while they’re WILLFUL, they have a tendency to get pretty BLUNT. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to SEVEN NATION ARMY by THE WHITE STRIPES.

inspired by ;; frank castle from daredevil, frank castle from the punshiner, frank castle from the born comics series. ( they are three different people, fight me ) seeley booth from bones in season five

tw: alcoholism, ptsd, mention of army, and war

former us marine

mostly goes by decker. his family used to calls him matteo but when other people do it it’s like .. “no”

you have been heard of resting bitch face ? matteo is here to show you the resting i fucking hate you face

swears too much like Wayy too much

he can be honestly really fucking soft i’m ngl but then you gotta be that one person that breaks down walls and again ? who has the time for that ? in the twenty first century?

wants to take care of everyone but pretends he is not interested in people bc he “Knows” everyone is gonna die or leave so there is no fucking point

actually just pretends he isn’t The Absolute Softest for everyone and tries to keep them all at arm's length but then people say ‘hi’ and are nice to him and he is like ‘Fuck me now i like them’

can actually laugh and make jokes which is Impressive imo

but then goes back to being bitter and angry at life

too straight up about things : could heavenly benefit from learning how to read social cues

you have to Tell him things if you want him to understand it. you can’t go around dropping hints. he won’t get it.

drinks his coffee black and without sugar

enlisted when he was eighteen bc patriotism and american dream and red white and blue stars but then that slowly stopped being the point. then he was just doing it bc He had been doing that for years what else would he do ? and then at some point he just saw too much … and then when he was discharged he just Never came back

after he came back he couldn’t find a job and he didn’t know what else to do and he slowly started getting involved with shady stuff and now he sells drugs to pay the bills

disappointed in who he is right now.

he is honestly Trying his very best.

aesthetics — punching a wall until your hands stings and your chest doesn’t anymore, the pleasant light feeling of holding back laughter, completed tasks and unachievable peace of mind, low chatter in dive bars in dark parts of town, questioning your belief system, roadside motels and failing neon lights, moonlight coming through the bedroom window, leaving the morning after, combat boots, loud honking cars and shaky hands, fighting the urge to shove someone away when you feel their touch against your skin, quiet places and pleasant loneliness, old dusty books and rock music, waking up multiple times in the middle of the night, whiskey mixed with coffee

OCTAVIANUS BRUNO GENTILLE looks an awful lot like FRANCOIS ARNAUD. HE is THIRTY SIX and while they’re ROMANTIC, they have a tendency to get pretty UNREALISTIC. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to SOMEONE NEW by HOZIER.

inspired by ;; jay gatsby from the great gatsby, romeo from romeo and juliet, tom hansen from (500) days of summer, a slam poem i saw on youtube once

tw: bullying, mention of learning disabilities and stutter

romanticized every bad thing that happened in his life.

will romanticize every bad thing that ever happened in your life.

the kind of person that says “things happen for a reason…”

goes by his middle name. honestly thinks his first name is the Most Stupid Thing In The World if you call him octavianus he’ll be legit annoyed. kids used to make fun of him at school all that jazz. just call bruno

he is legit in love with italian culture and history. his father was italian and he just highkey Cannot Shut Up About It

art history professor in kola’s college

the kind of professor that just loves what he is doing… you know when the professor like kinda looks excited that he is talking or sharing knowledge or just talking about shit they truly like ? that is bruno

a nerd but pretends he isn’t

could not do a one night stand without catching feelings if his life depended on it

loves people too much too fast with all his heart

there is an argument to be made for him not actually falling in love with people and just with the idea of love that he made up in his mind but let’s get to that when we get to that

will spend the entire lesson arguing with one student about how inaction in our current political climate is just as harmful as supporting people who are doing harm when he was supposed to be talking about impressionism or something like that

thinks people have a soulmate and he is just trying to find his

100% not only Shows up to slam poetry sessions but Helps organize them

real political. the type of person that rallies when things are wrong and gets others to do it

has too many exes

posts pictures with his current girl/boyfriends on instagram and then doesn’t delete them when they break up bc ‘that’s who i was at that moment’

can recite poetry for you in italian but do not let him trick you. he’ll only be around for the honeymoon phase of the relationship then he’ll be like wow this isn’t perfect. time to end it

loves art !! all type of art !! is terrible at all of it : writing, panting, photography. but he loves it and he does it despite being bad and he tells people to do what they love !! and follow their dreams !!

his parents got a divorce when he was 7 and it was pretty bad. his dad was italian and moved back to italy shortly after. his mother was from kola and he stayed with her.

it was as if his world had fallen apart at that. bruno had never even seen his parents fight and then one day his father just moves out to Another Country he was pretty lost and confused

bruno moved back and forth between italy and the u.s. throughout most of his childhood and adolescence. never spending a lot of time in one place.

though his parents tried to remain friends after the divorce for his sake it never really worked out. his father wanted his mom back while his mother moved on and got married again.

growing up, he had a lot of trouble with accents and language. his father used to speak only italian at home. and his mother used to speak only english.

he developed a learning disability and a stutter after his parents got divorced

kids in school used to make fun of him. the way he talked and his name specially.

doesn’t stutter anymore but when he is talking about something that is hard to talk about, he talks really slowly to make sure the words come out properly

aesthetics — ukulele songs playing softly in a room with echo, piano recitals with ten people in the audience, walking around aimlessly, kissing greek statues, being happy that you are sad because it means that you are alive, cheering on others success, lacking ambition and living the present, old songs hummed in the shower, waking up early and staying in bed until 10am, cuddling under warm blankets, failing in love with a stranger, laughing loudly with new friends, white wine, beautiful paintings in an empty museum, admiring something for way too long,

ANTHONY MILLER looks an awful lot like JOSH DALLAS. HE is THIRTY NINE and while they’re PATIENT, they have a tendency to get pretty SELF-RIGHTEOUS. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to JACKIE AND WILSON by HOZIER.

inspired by ;; prince charming from once upon a time, ned stark from game of thrones, bob belcher from bob’s burgers

tw: cancer

cannot talk about his feelings . cannot accept his own mistakes . cannot show weakness . at any point. no matter the subject . cannot let anyone take care of him.

Must be the best at all times for everyone and take care of everyone

self-care is a myth anthony does not believe in

works too much

he needs glasses to read stuff but he pretends he doesn’t so he does that squinting and pulling things close to his face thing. at which point you would probably ask ‘anthony if you don’t want to wear glasses wouldn’t it be easier ? to just ? wear contact lenses ?’ and yes it would it definitely would but anthony likes to make things harder for himself

slow to anger but he has that temper that you literally cannot see coming. he looks serious and stoic and then wow thunderfucking storms breaking chairs and stuff

loves beers and american football

the type of person that says this generation is lost

might smoke too much but he doesn’t talk about that

he doesn’t talk about anything actually

although i love him with all my heart. i would not rec

there is a right way to do stuff and anthony as the holder of all the knowledge and morality Must tell you about it

rarely ever smiles bUT when he does ? smiles like a prince. if we had a royal verse he’d be the king of the entire universe honestly.

he was a oldest child in a family of 7. his parents were super wealthy and he was the One favorite child who both parents used to love and cherish and cheer on.

he got his high school sweetheart pregnant. his parents didn’t want him to marry her bc she was Poor and Not up to standards but he chose love over his family and got disowned for that. hasn’t talked to his family since

his dream life was always to have the perfect picket fence house and american dream type of family. it was supposed to be him, his wife, his son and maybe some day he would have a daughter and it would Be great

he and his wife had a son and they named him hendrix bc she loved rock and jimi hendrix and he loved the name even tho he never liked rock. but honestly ? he was so weak for her he would have loved the name lkgjdflajf if she suggested it

a few months after their first son was born tho she was diagnosed with cancer and a few months later she passed away

after that he raised his son by himself. he really threw himself into it. spent most of his life focused on it and work and now his son is going to college and he doesn’t know what to do with himself

the only person he ever Truly dated was his wife and then he just focused on his son and raising him so he never really allowed himself to date bc then he would have to introduce someone else to his son’s life and all that … sO anthony is usually all cool and fine and then you show romantic interest in him and there is like a visible shift ya know? like he goes from anthony to a truly profoundly awkward person trying to pretend it’s cool

aesthetics — organized work tables, color coded to-do lists, trying your very best at all times, mental exhaustion showing through physical symptoms, dad jokes and laughing by yourself, the smell of new books, comfort found in old libraries, forgetting your reading glasses at home, losing your temper and breaking something, old family photos lost somewhere in the attic, pushing someone else on a swing, sundays afternoons lost at the park, working extra hours instead of going home, cold breeze and hugging yourself to your jacket, trying to explain to someone why they are wrong when they don’t want to listen

#fckit:intro #okay i know some of those got really big but i have already played all of them somewhere else at some point so like #i had already developed them a bit

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legion1993 · 6 years

Text

What Happens When You Bring Home A Unknown Substance

Title: What Happens When You Bring Home A Unknown Substance

Square Filled: Tentacle Porn

Ship: Tentacle x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Vaginal Penetration, Anal Penetration, impregnation, choking, gagging, double penetration, talking tentacle monster

Summary (If applicable): you head out on a hunt but it turns into something that brings your inner curiousity to a whole new level, upon bringing this new specimen back to your home, you finish your shower and things begin to go wrong…

Word Count (If applicable): 2,977

Created for @spnkinkbingo.

Masterlist kink masterlist

To say your curiousity always gets the better of you is an understatement… to say that hunting alone is a good idea is also an understatement… but to whoever said expect the unexpected, why did you have to be right…

You had just finished dealing with a witch sitch, you ganked her but she left behind this strange plant… you took a piece of it for observation and research… you headed home with the substance/plant/thing, and you could have sworn that it grew like 3 times bigger by the time you reached your apartment…

You brought it inside and left it on the table in your dinning room, going to the bathroom you stripped off all your clothes leaving the trail of clothing you would later clean up but not realizing that the plant/substance thing was actually alive…

You were in the shower, you couldn’t hear anything, you didn’t hear several things break, your couches being rearranged, your tables being smashed, that plant thing had grown to full strength and all it had to do was wait till you got back…

You were humming as you got out of the shower, you had some correspondence with people, other hunters who loved a fascinating scientific discovery as much as you did… you would contact them when you were done… but that is when you heard it, the loud crash of glass or ceramic breaking on the floor…

Y/N (to self): “what the hell was that?”

Then you heard whispers, almost as if it was calling out to you… you were cautious, you pulled out your knife and exited the bathroom, there was slime and stuff all over the floor and walls… you were appauled…

Y/N (to self): “fucking hell is this shit, I just took a shower…”

But the closer you got to your living room, the louder those whispers got…

Tentacle (whispers): “come to me…”

You follow the slime and whispers very carefully… your entire body convulsing like you wanted to throw up… it smelt like you were walking into a room right after an orgy had just gone down… but you entered your living room only to have your ankles bound and your knife knocked out of your hands, your attention fully focused on the big monster standing in your living room, but what they didn’t know was that you had a spare alarm of sorts…

Tentacle: “do you know what I am…”

You shake your head trying to reach your bag to answer your buzzing phone…

Y/N: “excuse me but can I please have some slack to reach my phone and answer it cause its work calling….”

The monster was compliant he let you get to your phone and answer the call you knew exactly who it was…

Dean (over phone): “is everything ok?”

Y/N: “its fine, just a little tied up with slime, but if you want me to come in please let me know now…”

Dean (over phone): “im on my way…”

You hung up the call, and tossed your phone behind you, it slid across the slime… you feared what look was befallen your form, one of the tentacles on the monster made its way up your body to pull off your towel… to which you were then pulled down onto your ass, you didn’t even have time to think before the feeling of slime filled your skin, you became unable to move…

Tentacle: “here is what I am, I am a tentacle plant, I sometimes come to life and rape beautiful women, in hopes of getting them pregnant and having them birth some more of my species… but half the time it doesn’t work… so here I go with you, that witch gave me some human characteristics and some shapeshifting abilities, but if I use them it wont be out of random, it will be to torture you…”

Y/N: “no please don’t do this, im a virgin… I can’t…”

Tentacle: “well this will be even more fun…”

The tentacles were holding your arms and legs spread apart, you were instantly scared not only were you being held in a pile of slime by some rapey tentacles, you tried struggling, but you soon found your mid section was being held down, your throat being wrapped in tentacle, but that’s where it all started…

Tentacle: “you make too much noise little girl…”

That’s when the monster stuck one of his tentacles in your mouth shifting it to look like a giant massive black cock… you gagged, you choked, but he thrust it deeper and deeper into your throat harder every time… you tried to scream against it but everytime you tried to scream, the tentacle in your mouth grew…

There were tears blurring your vision, the tentacles still swarmed your body, fondling your breasts making you squirm, making you try to break free of their grip… but it was soon that you felt like you couldn’t breathe…

Tentacle: “your about to pass out, good, lets see what I can do to you before you wake up again…”

Your eyes shut, you were trapped in your own head, great alone with your inner demons… while the tentacle monster had made his big form somewhat human looking, you were fighting your inner demons, this meant you needed to find a way to wake up, you had no ideas…

Meanwhile the tentacle monster had made two of his tentacles start playing with your nipples, the rest were still roaming your body, the monster was having some fun, seeing how far he could go before you would wake… that’s when Dean tried calling again, your phone buzzing against the floor, but no answer…

Dean (to self): “ok I need to connect with her some other way…”

That’s when castiel showed up beside Dean…

Dean: “jesus Christ cas you scared the living shit out of me…”

Cas: “why do you seem panicked?”

Dean: “its Y/N she is in trouble, something about slime and being tied up…”

Cas: “actually I was coming originally to tell you that a tentacle monster is loose in Y/Ns area… but there is something else you should know Dean… you and her have a connection… your parents said that you and Sam were their only children, that’s not true, you have a twin…”

Dean stops the car in the middle of the highway…

Dean: “IM SORRY WHAT?”

Cas: “Y/N is your twin… your parents split you both up incase something bad were to happen… she was living in an orphanage… but the people in the orphanage one of them specifically the one who was assigned to watch out for your twin was a hunter, she passed away by the hands of a werewolf who came after your sister… your parents kept this from you because together you have tremendous abilities… all of which would make you guys fantastic hunters… their only option was to give you guys as normal a life as possible by splitting you guys up…”

Dean: “so wait she is my twin… she is family… wait so everyone but me and Sammy knew about this…”

Cas: “pretty much…”

Dean: “I need you to do me a favor, I need you to mind meld me with my sister… I fear that she may be in greater trouble right now and its making me anxious…”

Cas puts his fingers to Dean’s forhead and the next thing Dean knows he is in a dark place, he walks around a bit before he sees some light… your silhouette in the middle of it, he approaches you…

Dean: “Y/N…”

You look up…

Y/N: “Dean, is that you?”

Dean: “of course it is… can you explain whats happening…”

Y/N: “im being raped by a freaky tentacle monster that’s why im crouched in a ball form… he stripped me of my clothes, if your on your way here I hope you have something for me to wear… cause there is no way im gonna be able to wear anything small and tight like I got…”

Dean: “Y/N, cas told me something about us, about you…”

You look at Dean being careful not to show anything…

Dean: “you and I are twins… mom and dad separated us because we have abilities that together could make us really powerful hunters… but don’t worry im coming to bring you home…”

Y/N: “if he hears you he is gonna impregnate me… he wants to impregnate me… Dean this witch I killed spelled him, gave him shapeshifting abilities and some human characteristics… you need to get to me as soon as possible… but warning there is slime everywhere, I mean literally all over the walls, floors, furniture, im pretty sure I don’t have any of my clothing left that isn’t covered in it…”

Dean: “its ok we will replace whatever we need to once back home… trust me sis your coming home…”

You at that moment tried to smile but instead started screaming… Dean moving back from you watched as you disappeared… he was then back in his own body…

Dean: “its still another 10 hours to her place, lets see if we can cut down the time…”

Dean puts petal to the metal as he takes off down the highway… meanwhile tentacles were teasing your clit, your holes and everything, but the tentacle that was still in your mouth had already shot several loads into your mouth… not even giving you a chance to breathe…

Tentacle: “she is about to wake… we must finish the penetration…”

That’s when you opened your eyes, you felt the slimey tentacles slithering across your vaginal and anal holes… you shoke your head but gagged on the tentacle that was in your mouth… then once again you were violated… a tentacle slithered across your vaginal hole, you shivered and tried to struggle but you couldnt move…

Tentacle: “im sorry deary I wish it didn’t have to be this way but I don’t want you getting away from me before I have a chance to plant my seed…”

You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t move, you were completely helpless… to say you didn’t feel when your vagina and ass got penetrated was an understatement the tentacle monster made sure you felt everything…

First he went in your vagina you screamed gagging against the tentacle which had grown again… you were trying to stay calm but you didn’t remain calm at all, you were scared, you tried to not let your mind get overwhelmed, you tried to convey a connection with Dean’s thoughts, trying to see if you and your new found twin have a psychic connection…

Nothing worked but you didn’t give up you tried anything to distract you from what was actually happening to you… you couldn’t believe that you were loosing your virginity to this slimey ass tentacle monster… but the worse of this was just about to happen, the more he thrust into your vagina, the bigger he got, then he sent another tentacle to your asshole, instantly you froze…

You shoke your head once more but he ignored your pleas, that and he couldn’t hear you speak or at least attempt to without hearing you gag on the tentacle that was still in your mouth… by this point you were sure you would throw up later…

but that’s when your worst fear happened, the tentacle after sliming up your asshole entrance forced its way inside, growing just at how tight it was, you would have screamed if you could, you would have ran away or fought back but you couldn’t…

Tentacle: “so tight, be ready to receive all my sperm kiddo, be ready to birth all my children…”

Your eyes once more with even more terror widened, you were a god damn hunter you weren’t scared of anything… but he was thrusting in and out of you pretty well, your body held down, frozen almost from the initial shock, your mind not registering anything, your eyes shut for opening them would make this all too real…

Back in the impala, dean was just entering your neighbourhood, Cas was using his powers to find out exactly where you were…

Cas: “dean make a left and its just half a block down, its just before the park on the right… the lights should still be on but there is something strange…”

Cas listens for a moment before opening his eyes and turning to dean…

Cas: “drive faster he is raping her, he has taken her virginity…”

This made Dean panic, this made him mad… he drove and in seconds he was at your place, he placed the car in park and took out his gun, but made sure that he had a few extra things still with which he could either wrap you in or give you to wear… at this point modesty was out the window, you were his god damn twin, you are the piece he could never figure out was missing, why his family seemed so small…

Dean: “Cas stay outside and watch for any sign of intrusion by magic or other wise…”

Cas: “no dean im coming with you there is a key to unlocking your abilities as twins and it needs angelic presence to be able to activate…”

Dean: “I thought me and Y/N had to be in the same room..”

Cas: “no it’s a bit more complex… Michael was the one who approached your parents with this, when he came to your mom and Dad after the 2 of you were born he explained that you guys were powerful, being blessed by angels will do that to you, because your parents were blessed by angels when they conceived you guys, you came out with special abilities, ones that Michael said when the time was right should be unlocked but only by angelic powers could it be… ultimately I have to come with you, plus I can blast this thing into high heaven or into the deepest darkest farthest regions of space…”

Dean cocked his gun as he turned to Cas and sighed getting out of the car he could only see the shadows of the monster… he could only imagine how bad this was gonna be, but he knew one thing forsure was that tonight you were coming home and the thing raping you was getting ganked…

The tentacle in your mouth released an even bigger load, which was so big that it pulled out of your mouth in time for you to scream… this caught the ear of your brother, who little to your knowledge was outside, cum and slime now everywhere, you were screaming and gagging spitting every single drop out…

Tentacle: “what does the little girl not like cum, not like having things…”

That’s when the monster lifted you upright off the ground now holding you in the air the tentacle in your vagina and the one in your ass moved faster and faster growing bigger everytime… but that’s when you screamed was the feeling of warmth, the feeling of being stretched so wide that it felt as though you would tear in 2…

Tentacle: “get ready baby im cumming….”

That’s when he shot huge loads of cum in your ass and vagina… you now screamed but soon felt very very weak… you were so out of breath that you didn’t even notice that the door was bust down…

Dean: “hey monster put my sister down… NOW!!!”

Tentacle: “this is a first… no one has ever tried to stop me before, but im afraid your too late, I just impanted my seed inside this girl, what did you call her again, ah yes your sister… now if you don’t mind id like to continue torturing her and then terrorize the neighbourhood…”

Dean: “you wont get the chance fugly… Cas do your thing im gonna see if I can get Y/N released…”

Cas holds his hand towards the monster, who is completely oblivious to what Cas was about to do, but this distracted him long enough for Dean to find one of your katana’s and slice off the tentacles that were either inside you or holding you… to which he then removed what was still attached to you…

Dean: “Cas toss me your trench coat… you can buy another just do it…”

Cas didn’t argue he knew how important this rescue was so he tossed Dean his trench coat before taking the monster and sending him through the roof of the house not breaking anything and blasting the monster into the deepest farthest regions of outerspace where he could harm no one else…

Your form quivering under Dean’s touch, your eyes opening to see your brother holding you, wrapping your naked form in a coat…

Y/N: “Dean…”

Dean: “shh its ok sis, the monster is gone we made sure he will never be able to do any harm to any one else… Cas can you scan her and make sure his plan didn’t work…”

Can touches your forehead and glows for a few seconds but when he pulls back he smiles…

Cas: “she isn’t pregnant but she is tired and sore, so if we are gonna get her out of here we need to do it ASAP…”

Dean: “Y/N im gonna carry you to the car ok… don’t worry im gonna take care of you…”

Before picking you into his arms he gave Cas his keys…

Dean: “cas you drive, there is no way that ill be able to focus on the road right now…”

Cas nods taking the keys he watches Dean take you into his arms bridal style (im sorry it’s the only way possible in this situation) he helps Dean sit in the car while still cradling you in his grasp… you start feeing warm-ish, but before Cas starts driving he witnesses you and Dean starting to glow…

Cas: “its begun…”

~that’s all for now folks…~

#SPNKINKBINGO

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hannahindie · 7 years

Text

Lazy Eye

Characters: Demon!Dean, Reader (mention), Sam (mention), Crowley Word Count: 2,013 Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption, some angsty feels A/N: I wrote this for @queencflair‘s birthday challenge, which is also conveniently on Demon!Dean Appreciate Day, so this little fic was born. The prompt she gave me was Lazy Eye, by Silversun Pickups. It’s one of my favorite songs, and oddly inspired Demon!Dean pretty well. The lyrics are italicized in the fic.

My wonderful @pinknerdpanda beta’d it for me, because she’s the greatest. “Fuck! This is just....jnasdjnkasd jkas! I can't word.”

As always, tags are at the bottom. If you’d like to be added, please send an ask or an IM!

I've been waiting I've been waiting for this moment all my life But it's not quite right

I've always known the end would be bloody. Whether it was the tip of a knife or the end of a shotgun, my life was destined to end violently. I can't say I would have guessed that some nerdy, whiny ass angel would be the one to take me out, but here we are. Well, were. Because my death, what should have released me from this curse the Winchesters seem to have on all our heads, was derailed by a totally different curse.

When I woke up and Crowley let me in on my new little secret, it was like the world stopped.

At first, I thought it was a dream. But what dream includes Crowley? The answer is none. If anything, it was a waking nightmare. His words were clear and to the point; I was one of them now. But I didn’t really hear it. I wasn’t. I wasn’t one of them, I wasn’t human. I was nothing. The weird thing was, I felt nothing. I think at first it was the shock that threw me off; having black eyes is not something you get used to easily. It should have bothered me that I had gone from an angry, depressed son of a bitch to...whatever I was now. But it didn’t. If anything, I felt stronger, more alive than I was before. Crowley wants to be best friends forever, I’m surprised he hasn’t given me a friendship bracelet he made for us during craft time at Camp Burning-in-Hell, but I couldn’t give a rat’s ass. I don’t give a rat’s ass about anything.

And this 'real' It's impossible if possible At whose blind word So clear but so unheard

It was impossible. This reality couldn’t possibly be what my life was going to be like. For years, I’d worried this was where I’d end up, only I didn’t think I’d be topside. I never told Sammy, but the fear of going back to Hell hovered in the back of my mind, always, a never ending taunt that no amount of alcohol could drown out. The Mark of Cain always whispered, fueling the anger that I tried to hide. I know it will probably never compare to what Sam had to deal with when the wall in his mind broke, but man...I gotta be honest, I don’t know how the guy did it. All the things I cared about have fallen by the wayside and even now I could skin Sam alive from head to toe without a care in the world.

I've been waiting I've been waiting for this silence all night long It's just a matter of time

Everything is silent now. The worries I had before, my self-destructive love for Sam, my willingness to sacrifice myself for the greater good. All of it’s gone, silenced by the monster that’s taken over my meatsuit. I guess that monster is still me, and despite the ever present hatred for myself that still echoes in my mind, it’s a relief. I’m still angry, I think that’s the default setting for most demons, and God help anyone that gets in the way of whatever I want, but the overwhelming guilt seems to be gone.

With the exception of one nagging thing that I can’t seem to quit thinking about.

I don’t know what it is about her. It’s like there’s one tiny bit of humanity left inside of me, reserved solely for her. If I saw Sam right now, I can’t say I wouldn’t try to kill him. But Y/N...no, Y/N I’d keep alive. It could be a multitude of reasons, ranging from how hot she is to how she never took shit from me. As a decent human being I didn’t deserve her, and I definitely don’t now.

To appear sad With the same 'ol decent lazy eye Fixed to rest on you Aim free and so untrue

Here’s the thing; it was unfair of me to chain her down to me to start with. I don’t have the same curse Sam seems to have, but it’s still never ended well. One night stands and quick lays in the backseat of the Impala are more my style, and I tried to keep doing that with her around, but I have a vague recollection of it making me miserable. I wanted her. For awhile there, I was pretty sure she didn’t want anything to do with me. I can be a pain in the ass, and as far as feelings go, I usually make jokes to avoid talking about it. It didn’t seem to matter what I did, I just kept seeing her. Everywhere I looked, there she was. Even before she lived with us, I couldn’t get her out of my mind, and then she moved into the bunker and to hell with trying.

I still remember the first time we spent the night together; it warms the cockles of my cold, soulless heart. I’d like to be able to say that the only thing I remember is how her body felt under mine, how my name sounded as she called it out quietly into the dark. But I also remember how soft her hair was and how good it smelled. I can vividly recall the smoothness of her skin and the strength I felt when we moved together. How she curled up next to me, sweat pooling in the little dip at the base of her throat, and smiling like it was the best thing she’d ever done.

These memories are what made me look for her. I’m not sure why I even care, other than the fact that I tried to screw the thought of her away and it didn’t work. What I do know is that there’s a part of me that is aching for her touch, her smile. That maybe if I find her and she isn't too repulsed, she can coax whatever bit of myself that's left out of the darkness that is threatening to take over completely.

An empty, demon-hearted boy can dream. Or whatever it is demons do.

Everyone's so intimately rearranged Everyone's so focused clearly with such shine

I left Crowley to look for her. I tracked her phone, because she was stupid enough to keep the same one. You’d think if a person’s boyfriend went darkside, they’d make sure they became invisible. She apparently had more hope than I gave her credit for. I wasn’t surprised to see she was nowhere near the bunker. She and Sam had been close, but I knew her well enough to know that she wouldn’t be able to stay in the same place we’d lived together, not even for Sam. She would see me everywhere, and she would be miserable. I mean, I’m sure she was miserable regardless, but without all the reminders, at least she could try to ignore it. It’s what I would have done before I quit giving a shit.

I tracked her to a hotel just outside of Houston. It was a weird place for her to be and I wondered if she was hunting alone or just drifting. After smacking around the guy at the front desk, I got her room number. Room 13, what an irony. I stood outside and stared at the drabby curtain that was blocking my view of the room. It occurred to me that I had no idea what I was actually capable of. I waved my hand like I’ve seen Crowley do, not really expecting anything, and the curtain shifted enough that I could see inside.

Whatever lovey dovey feelings I had disappeared as soon as I looked in the room. I couldn’t see everything, but I could see enough. Sam stretched out on the bed, flat on his back, and Y/N curled tightly into his side like she used to do with me. The longer I stared, the more the smaller details about their current position stood out. The way her hand moved with his chest as he breathed, how his hand was tangled in her hair. The part of me that wanted to find her exploded, the pain brief but hot as I felt my eyes turn black and the monster take over. A dull ache made me look down at my fisted hands. Blood dripped from my fingers and I slowly uncurled them to see crimson crescents dug deeply into my palms. I watched as the marks slowly healed themselves, then looked back to the room. Sam shifted and pulled her closer to him and for a moment all I wanted was to storm in there and tear them apart piece by backstabbing piece. Instead, I turned and walked towards the bar I had seen on the way in. I decided that I would take my time with them instead, and oh, how I looked forward to that.

Lost and loaded Still the same 'ol decent lazy eye Straight through your gaze That's why I said I relate I said we relate It's so fun to relate

“I told you it would be a waste of time.” I rolled my eyes and threw back the shot the bartender had just handed me. Crowley always managed to find me, and it was already starting to get old.

“I don’t need your two cents, Lucky the Leprechaun.” Crowley glared at me and I chuckled; demons sucked, but I found it hilarious that they called him that behind his back.

“You don’t have to be rude.” Crowley waved down the bartender and ordered two more drinks, then turned back to me. “It’s always the same with you boys. Your family always leaves you, your friends leave you. I, however, won’t.” He slid a whiskey in my direction, then picked his up and swirled it, “We’re partners. I scratch your back, you scratch mine and whatnot.”

“You mean, I do your dirty work and you...what? Give me a nice room in hell to stay in? Give me all the ass I could want? I can get all that myself, I don’t need your friendship or sympathy, or whatever the hell it is you’re offering me. I’m fine on my own.”

Crowley turned to face me and narrowed his eyes, “I have no doubt in your ability to acquire whatever it is you want, except for one thing. And that one thing is what is inevitably going to throw you out of control. It’s bad for business to have someone with your...talents...going rogue.” I looked at him from the corner of my eye and he raised an eyebrow. “You work for me, and I promise you’ll get a shot at that little tart that’s snuggling up with dear old Moose. Savvy?”

I turned and grabbed Crowley by the throat, “Watch your mouth, you cheap suited accent. You don’t talk about her, understand? You keep her name out of your filthy mouth, or I will kill you.” I shoved him backwards and he straightened his tie with a smile.

“Ah, there he is, the protective Dean I’ve come to love. I guess you’ve got a bit of humanity left in you, after all.” He watched me for a moment, like he was carefully contemplating his next words. “Listen, Squirrel, that’s the way the cookie crumbles for blokes like us. We lose the things we want most to the people who don’t deserve them. But in the end, we always win. If you work for me, I will make sure you get what you deserve.”

I picked up the whiskey he had slid to me earlier and downed it in one gulp. At this point, I had nothing to lose.

“What do you want me to do?”

It's the room the sun and the sky It's the room the sun and the sky

I've been waiting I've been waiting for this moment…

Like what you see? Would you like to see more? Check out my master list HERE!

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#Supernatural fanfiction #Raylyhn's30thBirthdayChallenge #Demon!Dean Halloween

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writingismyhappytime · 7 years

Text

Dauntless: Daddy Dearest (Part 11)

Eric x OC

Warnings: Language, Violence

A/N: Uh…. I know it’s been a while, but here you go!

“Eric.”

I glanced over as I heard my name called, spying Max standing with Hera. I didn’t see her often, she was always buried deep in the intelligence office, so no doubt this was going to be interesting.

I glanced around, but no one had noticed Max step into the room and it was better this way. I slipped easily over to him, crossing my arms with with frown.

The Dauntless leader hadn’t called on me in a few months since my kid was born, so I was curious as to what he wanted. Need some dirty work handled? Admittedly I’d been getting a little bored with all this regular training and work, I was up for some action.

“Hera, Eric, I assume you two know each other.”

“In passing.” Hera nodded. She was a little shorter then me, with chin length blonde hair and double nose piercings. Her blue eyes were thickly lined with black and she didn’t look like she got out much or could even lift ten pounds both hands. I’d never even had a conversation with her.

“Good. Eric, you and Hera are going to be working closely together for the next week. We have a situation.”

Finally!

“What kind?”

“Better to be discussed in private,” Hera said coolly, her eyes hard. She spoke pretty soft, it was almost hard to hear her, and I vaguely wondered how much of a fighter she was; could she even hold her own or was she all brain?

“Fine.”

~~~~~~

“As you can see, we have a leak here in Dauntless.” Hera informed me, long finger pointing at the papers in front of me. “Someone is telling the other factions of some of our… rather risqué operations.”

She meant the murders that were shown as suicides or accidents, or our occasional slaughter of the faction less to keep down the population and our resources from being used too much.

“Why can’t you track it? This place is covered in cameras.”

“Unfortunately, the leak knows that and has been devising ways to get around it. We cannot even trace it back to their computer, or whatever else they’re using to convey our missions. This needs to be handled quietly.”

“So we find them and toss them in the chasm.”

“Quietly.”

Sounded easy.

“Who are the suspects?” I cracked my knuckles thoughtfully. Really, I’d just toss them all into the chasm “accidentally” and not worry about it. It wasn’t good if someone was spilling the beans about our darker movements, especially since I was involved in most of them.

I told Max he shouldn’t keep everything documented.

“This man, goes by Zeeg, works in the armory.”

“I know him. He’s a little wimpy thing.” I frowned, pressing my hands flat against the metal table as I leaned forward, looking at his photo as it flickered on the wall. I’d worked in the armory a bit when Camille was about to have the loaf, so I got familiar there. Mel knew him well.

“What are your thoughts on him?” Hera’s cold eyes landed on me, unwavering. Man, bitch might be small, but she had a harsh look.

“He’s not much of any leader, terrified if you yell at him. Lazy, but he shouldn’t have access to any files. He doesn’t even have access into the inventory system, he just stacks the ammo and takes count.” I gazed at his photo, then shook my head. “Next.”

“Next,” Hera taps her finger against the table, changing the photo. “Amanda Nuwellan. Higher level guard on the wall.”

“Don’t know her.”

“She was in your initiate class, she originated from Candor.”

“Still don’t know her. If she wasn’t on my level, she wasn’t worth my attention.” I said flatly, shrugging. “What’s her deal?”

“She left two brothers in Candor, and perhaps those obsessed with the truth would like to know our secrets. She works on the wall, but rotation has been recent and so she has been there the last three months until last week.”

“Sounds like you think it’s her.”

“Suspicions, nothing more.” Hera tapped her finger again, and the picture changed to a familiar face.

My stomach dropped.

“Tori Wu, she’s a tattoo artist in the Pit.” Hera said, but it’s the way she looked at me that let told me she knew there was a connection. “Her brother was an undesirable and eliminated, so she has reason to try to reveal our operations.”

Ahuh.

“What reason does Zeeg have?” I asked, noticing she’d neglected to mention his possible need for exposing us. I stared at her, refusing to look away.

“Zeeg is the son of an undesirable who became faction less last year. He is now dead thanks to a… well, you remember the warehouse incident you and your wife lead.”

Wife?

“His death was his own fault then for thinking he could fight against us.” I said flatly, shrugging. “how does the kid even know about it?”

“We’re currently unaware of he does, but he is on the list.”

“How did you put this list together? Just these three?”

“There have been four instances where we’ve seen the information leaked, and these three have always been in the vicinity.”

“How so?”

“Zeeg is in the armory, he has access to a number of weapons. We’ve noticed the faction less are becoming more volatile, that —.”

“You think he’s passing weapons to them? How? Mel keeps a strict log of every gun that enters that armory.” At least I thought she did.

“Melanie Koskovska, you mean?”

“Yes.”

Hera looked thoughtful. “Perhaps the weapons are not even getting logged in the first place. Is she in charge of that?”

I didn’t like where this was going.

“Yes. The head of the armory personally checks every weapon in. If it’s her being the leak, you’d have a lot more information floating around.”

“And why is that?”

“Mel and I are the ones on those lists of soldiers deployed during those operations. She knows more details than are on those reports, and she’s… not that good with technology.”

Weapons, she was great. Using the common toaster and not setting the contents on fire? Not so much.

“Hmm. I was unaware of her involvement.” Hera frowned, and I raised a brow at her.

“Do you even know what’s in the reports that have been leaked?” I asked after a moment, wondering if Max even briefed her in on what we did in the shadows. Is she oblivious to the fact sometimes you gotta murder your own for the greater good?

“Yes, I’m aware of the contents. Quiet executions, population control, reconnaissance. I know you’re the one in charge of most of them, that Max favors you for the position.”

“Im good at what I do.”

“So it seems.” She said dryly, leaning over to tap the table again. My eyes flicked down, noticing the sudden chest on display for me; her top was modest, but leaning forward definitely changed that fact. I could see the ink crawling against her skin, but I looked away before my curiosity got the best of me.

“So what about your wife? How many operations has she gone on?”

“Camille isn’t my wife. And not many; she wouldn’t agree with many of them. She’s lead some missions against the factionless for defense and rescue missions, but she’s not like me.” I said flatly, refusing to play her little mind games; this woman was all about twisting words around. She knew Camille wasn’t my wife, and I didn’t doubt she already knew everything about us that was on file.

She was a dangerous woman.

~~~~~~~

“Mel.”

“Eric.”

Mel looked at me suspiciously through the holes in the fence barring entrance to the armory. I glanced down at the tablet where I was supposed to sign in so it would show I visited but ignored it.

“How’s everything going here?” I asked after a moment, my eyes flicking behind her blonde head, searching for Zeeg.

“The normal. What do you want?”

“Just came to visit.”

“You hate the armory.” Mel crossed her tattooed arms suspiciously, and I didn’t blame her. I wasn’t going to tell her what I was up too, she wasn’t invited to the meeting for a reason, probably because she had direct contact with the suspect.

Tori was Camille’s friend, not mine, so it wouldn’t bother me too much to kill her or the like. A traitor is a traitor no matter the connections.

“How’s the counting going?” I asked after a moment, crossing my arms as I leaned against the desk.

The armory was large, walls and upper levels lined with weapons and ammunition. They were all locked behind bars, of course, just as Mel was separated me from a fence, a small curve at the bottom in case I needed to pass her something.

“What do you want, Eric?” Mel looked annoyed, the lights glinting off her piercings when she leaned back on her heels, glaring at me; we weren’t exactly on the best of terms, currently, but I knew I could rely on her if it came down to it. Strange, considering we were both murderers and backstabbers.

My eyes flicked behind her, but so far I hadn’t seen anyone else. I tilted my head slightly, gesturing for her to come out and talk to me. She stiffened, and I’m pretty sure she considered saying “fuck you” and walking off, but her curiosity had always been her downfall.

She gave a labored sigh before she glanced around. Her face was sour as she casually walked towards the gate and stepped out, letting it close firmly behind her before she followed me to one of the smaller crevices in the back, mostly where we kept the storage.

“What’s going on?” She grumbled, crossing her arms as she looked up at me, both of us hidden behind some stacked tables. “I know you’re not here for a booty call.”

I snorted, shaking my head. “No, but we got trouble.”

“How so?” I had her attention now, her dark eyes serious. Mel didn’t like complications, or basically anything that could change up her afternoon plans. Me saying something like that would have her entire focus on my words.

“We think some weapons are going missing, disappearing before they’re put into the system.” I said softly, making sure to keep my eyes on the door up ahead; I didn’t want anyone sneaking up and overhearing us.

“So of course you come to me for that.” Her face is sour. “You want me to see if anyone’s acting suspicious around here, keep a tighter watch?”

“Yup.”

“What happens when you find who it is?”

I didn’t have to answer that, I just looked at her. I’d kill them, after interrogation, of course. We couldn’t have people like that in Dauntless, risking everything for us. We needed control, right down to the smallest peon.

“Great, so I’m going to need to find a replacement. Fucking wonderful.” She groaned, tugging on one long dread. “This is going to be annoying, isn’t it?”

“Just keep a watch, let me know.” I shrugged, already stepping back. No one had even entered the armory after me, and I hadn’t seen anyone come up to the gate either. I figured we were in the clear. “Don’t do anything unless you know for sure.”

“Anyone I should watch specifically?”

“No.” I wasn’t giving names, Mel wasn’t exactly subtle and she could fuck everything up. “Just watch.”

“Aye, aye, cap'n.” She gave me a mocking salute before she walked away from me, my eyes dropping to her ass out of habit. That woman knew how to fill out a pair of jeans, it’s just too bad she didn’t keep them on long enough for anyone to appreciate it. I wasn’t throwing on Mel, she was the closest I had to a friend, but I knew who she was; just as she knew who I was.

We both had a rocky past.

~~~~~~~

I frowned as I stood on the catwalk above the cafeteria, watching the members of Dauntless ambling about. I curled my fingers around the rails, searching for the woman. I narrowed my eyes as I saw her sitting in one of the corners with a group, Zeeg among them.

Now that’s suspicious.

Nuwellan I think her name was. Slim, dark skinned with a fighters build. I wasn’t surprised she ended up at the wall, although I thought the job to be pretty boring considering nothing ever happens there.

Huh.

Nuwellan was my age, and I’d seen her around but I’d never given her a second thought. It wasn’t rare to get a Candor, they’re just blunt as hell and usually got their assess kicked during their initiate stage.

So what’s her story? Normally when people leave a faction, things with their family left behind goes two ways; either they understand and keep in touch, or they never communicate again.

How close was she with those two brothers? How close was she with Zeeg?

I watched them from above for a while, pretending just to overlook everyone instead of focusing squarely on them. They didn’t seem to notice anyhow, too caught up. Zeeg was arm wrestling with another member of the table, whereas Nuwellan was eating, enjoying her food.

Was it these two? Unless Dauntless did something to her, I can’t imagine Nuwellan turning on us. Zeeg I could, just because his factionless father was murdered and maybe he wants rid of Dauntless, or thinks it’s time for a change. But her… not so much. Of course, that made her even more of a suspect. She could have a less obvious motive, some connection none of us were aware of.

Zeeg seemed too obvious a choice.

And Tori… I didn’t want it to be here, mainly for Camille’s sake. I was pretty sure the tattoo artist was my girlfriends only close friend, and I didn’t want her to lose that — especially not if I had to kill her because I’d never live that down.

I tapped my fingers curiously, and after a moment turned away, satisfied.

I’d tell Hera to look into Nuwellan, check all her correspondence, check every move she’d made since returning to the compound. Who she was with, when and where, and who those people knew as well.

I wanted a file on her.

~~~~~~

I stepped into the tattoo shop curiously, glancing around. I hadn’t been inside in a few years, not since I got my neck tattoos colored. I glanced at my arms, debating getting a touch up on them; I had scars now that distorted one of them.

“Eric.”

Ah!

My eyes flicked over, and I smirked as I saw Tori. She and Camille looked a lot alike with the long dark hair, although my girlfriend had more visible tattoos. Tori had a tattoo of a red-eyed black and white hawk on the back of her neck I always admired but never commented on.

“Tori,” I said coolly, turning towards her where she leaned against one of the tattoo chairs, holding some designs in her hands. She was twice my age I thought, but she was an Erudite transfer as well. I didn’t remember her from my old faction, but I’d probably been too young.

She’d followed her older brother George here, but he’d turned out to be an undesirable and dealt with accordingly. I wouldn’t be shocked if the leak was her, but I definitely didn’t want it to be.

“What are you doing in here?”

“What does someone normally come to a tattoo parlor for?” I rolled my eyes, glancing around. The other artist was old, and he sort of hunched when he walked now, but so long as his hands still worked he was useful; he was the one who’d done my tats years ago.

“So you want a tattoo. What kind?” Tori seemed resigned; she didn’t like me, but the feeling was mutual. She was bitter over her brother, and she’d never gotten past his death. Still, she’d never given any inclination of being a traitor before.

“Dunno yet.”

“Look around, see what you like.”

I was just here to interrogate her actually, but I stepped to the wall, my eyes running down the designs plastered there. I didn’t really see anything that was catching my eye, I’d never been one for color or a lot of intricate lines.

I could feel her watching me suspiciously, but I ignored her, pretending I had no ulterior motives. Camille knew I was working something, that I wouldn’t be able to get Kai. Wouldn’t hurt her to pick him up for a few days anyway.

He was a handful, that one.

“How’s your kid doing?” Tori asked after a moment, as if reading my mind. Normally she was quiet around me, just glared, so I was a little surprised she was asking me anything. Camille had to keep her up to date, right?

“He’s fine.” I shrugged, my eyes landing on the different fonts. My eyes scrolled through the words and the different ways they were written curiously. “Growing.”

“That’s good. He has your eyes.”

“That’s what everyone says. Can you tattoo in this style?” My finger tapped the wall, and Tori nodded after a moment.

“Yeah. You want a word?”

“Yup. Here,” I gestured at the inside of my lower arm. Subtle, not immediately easy to see. “Surely you can do that, right?”

She scowled at me, much more what I’m used too.

“Sit down. What do you want it to say?” She muttered, slipping on some purple gloves as she started getting her equipment together.

“Kai.”

~~~~~~~

“So how long have you and Tori been friends?” I asked as I sprawled out on the sofa. Camille glanced up from the floor where she wrestled Kai into a outfit with legs, despite his kicking and whining. He might be a baby but he was getting stout.

“I’ve known her for as long as I can remember. She’s been here since I was a kid.”

“So she’s a transfer?” Feign ignorance.

“Yeah. Can’t remember where from.” Camille managed to get his outfit buttoned with a sigh. “Why?”

“Just curious. You two seem close.” I rolled onto my stomach, seeing her lean back on her hands as she looked at me. I didn’t want to delve too much, she would catch on pretty fast what I was doing. I didn’t want her to know her friend was under suspicion of being a traitor.

“She did my aptitude test when I was in school. I’d seen her around here before but that was the first time I’d ever spoke to her.”

“Yeah? What were your test results?” I was curious. I’d been Dauntless through and through, so it hadn’t been hard for me to ditch Erudite. I would have gotten myself factionless if I’d stayed there.

Camille actually hesitated.

“You weren’t Dauntless?” I asked after a moment, and she shrugged her shoulders, picking at the carpet.

“I was Dauntless, yeah, but also Candor.”

I snorted, slipping my arm beneath my head. “I can see it. You’re blunt as hell most times.”

“Yeah, but white has never looked good on me.” She gave me a wry smile, Kai rolling back and forth on his back. He’s trying to get onto his stomach, and after a few more tries he made it successfully.

“Well, you chose right, picking Dauntless.”

“Not like I was going to abandon my own faction, Eric. This has always been my home.”

“Yeah. And now you got a kid.”

“And an asshole for a man.”

“I think you made out pretty good then,” I chuckled, reaching forward to rest my hand on her shoulder. “All in all, anyways.”

“You realized that ‘pretty good’ included us getting shot, stabbed, beat up, tossed from trains —.”

“Just the minor details.”

She snorted, then her eyes flicked out to my arm. Her brows rose as she saw my new tattoo. “When did you get that?”

“Oh, earlier today.” I glanced at the black letters spelling out my son’s name on my arm, pleased. Tori had done a great job, they looked exactly how I wanted them. “Tori did it.”

“You got his name on you?” Camille hesitantly reached forward, her fingers drawing down the skin a few inches away.

“Yes. He’s my son. I might be able to dump you but I can’t get rid of him.”

She rolled her eyes, but the look she gave me — it was full of warmth, of sweetness. It was the look I always wanted her to have when she looked at me.

I gave her a small smile before I leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss against her lips. She knew I loved my kid, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. I loved both of them, so much I was even putting off my plans of Dauntless domination until Kai was a little older and could defend himself.

Gave me plenty of time to make some allies, too.

“I love you,” I murmured, propping myself up so I could cup her cheek. “and the loaf.”

“I wish you’d stop calling him that.”

“Eh, he doesn’t mind.” I chuckled, kissing her again. Camille never changed, it was one of the things I liked about her. She still put me in my place, yelled at me, told me when I was being an asshole. She took care of her initiates, but she was stern with them; we shared the same ideologies, at least to a point.

We’d been together for years now and yet every day I didn’t mind coming home to her — at least now that she wasn’t screaming at me and ripping me apart because she’d momentarily lost her mind.

Another reminder why we didn’t need another kid.

“The loaf is escaping.” I murmured, and Camille sighed as she leaned away. We both watched as Kai tried to drag himself across the floor, arms and legs not quite ready to do the heavy lifting.

He was determined to make it to my shoe.

“If you want, I can watch him tomorrow so you can get out again.” I offered, shuffling so that I was lying on my back again, my arms pillowing my head as I looked up at the ceiling. I figured if I offered, Camille would go see Tori like she always did, and maybe I could get a little more information outta her about the elusive tattooist.

“That’s suspiciously nice of you, Eric.”

“You’re the one who said you wanted to get out a little more. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“You don’t even like Tori.”

“I don’t like most people. Now do you want me to watch him or not?”

“I guess. Just don’t set the apartment on fire or start teaching him to throw knives.”

“Of course not, that’s next week’s lesson plan.”

~~~~~~~

“So? What are your suspicions?” Hera asked from where she sat at the table, flicking through different pages on the tablet in front of her. I frowned as I leaned against the chair in front of her, glancing around her office.

Rather small, sort of like a closet. She didn’t have anything personal in here, not even a plant, just her tablet and the computer on the wall. Obsolete filing cabinets were pressed up against one wall, old but obviously used for some reason; I guessed if you put things on paper instead of uploading, it’s a lot harder for people to steal it.

“Nuwellan has my attention currently. I saw her and Zeeg sitting together in the cafeteria. Wu is a loner, she keeps to herself for the most part.” I couldn’t leave her out.

“She seems very close friends with your wife.”

Again with the intentional wrong word.

“Girlfriend. They’re friends, yes.”

“Does their friendship cloud your judgement?” Hera asked bluntly, her cold gaze flicking up. Her fingers paused, hovering above the tablet as she stared through her blonde hair at me.

“Personal ties don’t hold me back.” I said flatly. “If she’s the traitor I’ll deal with her. Max knows that, it’s why he chose me.”

“No, not really.” The small, rather vile woman in front of me sighed as she looked back down. “Max chose you to test your loyalty, he thinks you’re losing your edge since you knocked up the trainer. I do hope you’ve no attachments, although I read your file and you’re a useful executioner.”

That’s one way of putting it.

Still testing me then? Max must be on to me, why else would he still be doubting me? I frowned, crossing my arms.

“Max is a fool, he’s incapable of doing his own dirty work and when push comes to shove he would crumble without someone like me.” I finally said; fuck, what do I got to lose? If Max is already thinking I’m building an uprising he’ll take me out sooner or later anyhow. Might as well say what I gotta say.

“Instead of putting me on bullshit assignments like this making me run around like an errand boy, he should be remembering how many of our own members I’ve taken out just so this society can still work.” I said all of it very calmly, but I definitely had Hera’s attention. “I don’t like being questioned, I’ve done nothing to bring it forth.”

“You defied him,” she points out. “When your child was born.”

“It was stay or watch Dauntless collapse internally because my girlfriend was having conniptions. Camille has plenty of sway here and Max knows it.”

“So you consider yourself a power couple then?” Hera asked lightly, clasping her fingers in front of her.

“We’re not here to discuss my relationship. We’re here to discuss a leak, which I have suspicions is Nuwellan. How about we focus on that?” I snapped, growing restless.

I was starting to feel as if I was the one trial here.

“Very well.” Hera sighed, returning to tapping her tablet. “Do you consider her and Zeeg to be in league together?”

“All that I’ve established is that they know each other. However, that could be too obvious. Wu is anti-social, and she has just as many reasons to hate this place as they do. Death of a family member is a motivating factor.”

I had to mention her, otherwise it would look as if I was ruling her out just because of my connection to her. I’m not a softy.

“Understandably. So you still consider her to be a suspect?”

“Until proven otherwise, yes.”

I had too.

~~~~~~~

I sighed as I ran a hand through my hair, standing on one of the bridges as I looked down at the Pit. Dauntless moved back and forth between the shops and other common areas, taking care of their daily business.

Fuck if this wasn’t a mess.

I watched as Zeeg moved smoothly across the bridge below me, glancing nervously over his shoulders, a bag held tightly in his hand. Could he look anymore suspicious?

The bag was small, couldn’t hold a big gun, and we typically didn’t have any smaller than the hand. He could be transporting a weapon, or ammo — hell, it could be important paperwork!

So of course I was following him.

I stayed to the bridge above him, watching the surroundings. No one was following him, it was just him in a hurry to get somewhere. I pursed my lips, curious.

Who’s he going to meet? Who’s his accomplice? Why are they willing to risk everything for this?

Dumb kids.

I seriously hoped Tori wasn’t involved.

I watched as he disappeared into one of the hallways, and I made quick work climbing down the ladder to his level. I casually started following behind him, making sure to keep the crowd between all of us. I doubted he would notice me, but I didn’t want to be sloppy.

What’s his plan here? What’s in that tiny plastic bag? What could he possibly be taking somewhere?

This is not how I wanted to spend my afternoon. I wanted to be back at the apartment, tossing my kid into the air and making my girlfriend panic. I wanted to watch him eat on one of those chew toys and even cry when I took it away from him.

Hell, I’d settle for being at the bar, drinking a few beers and talking shit with Mel like old times.

Anything would be better than this.

I wasn’t patient enough to tail people, I’d rather just shoot them.

And now where the hell is the little fuck going? I scowled, watching as he turned down a more secluded hallway, his face paling from nerves as he went. I hovered just at the corner, seeing his steps falter as he approached a place in the wall that curved.

He paused there, clutching the bag to him.

Hmm.

I waited, making sure I was carefully placed so I wouldn’t be noticed, at least by Zeeg. I lounged against the pale corner, looking down at my watch and tinkering with the buttons like it was showing me something interesting.

I glanced back, growing restless as ten minutes passed. If I wasn’t getting to shoot someone or getting an adrenaline rush, I didn’t see the point of this. I was fucking bored.

I’d rather just confront the kid and jerk the bag out of his hand than continue waiting!

Hmm?

I peered curiously around the corner as I saw someone step up to Zeeg, his face brightening as he sees the girl. I didn’t know her, but she’s blonde and slim, a little taller than him, probably his age.

Wait.

I frowned as Zeeg talked to her for a moment, than sort of shoved the bag at her. She blinked, then looked down and opened it. She sort of exclaimed something and pulled out — fuck.

Jewelry.

I’d followed this fucking kid to his girlfriend!

How disappointing.

What a fucking waste of time!

I could have been cuddling Kai or Camille this entire time.

I ground my teeth in irritation, cracking my knuckles as I leaned back against the wall.

This tailing business just wasn’t for me.

I’d have to go about this a different way… maybe I’d get to break some bones in the process.

Tags:

#eric jai courtney #dauntless daddy dearest #dauntless #eric dauntless #dauntless fan fiction #jai courtney #jai courtney fanfic #jai courtney eric #jai courtney x oc #divergent #divergent fanfiction #divergent smut #divergent fan fiction #eric divergent

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mrevaunit42 · 7 years

Text

Reckless heroing (Boku no academia AU) part 2

and here it is, part two of the star vs my hero academia au. I hope you all enjoy it, have an amazing week! the link for part one is below. this means narration and this means flashback

https://mrevaunit42.tumblr.com/post/162853635472/im-going-to-be-a-hero-boku-no-academia-au-part

nofifcation squad: @artgirllullaby @isolated-frequencies @hipster-rapunzel @minthia-ren @thefandombytes if you want to be a part of the notify squad, let me know

Marco could feel how frayed his nerves were, a sickening numb feeling mixing with the unsettling emptiness deep inside his stomach.

The protractor of the exam stood at the podium in the center of the stage, her piercing light blue eyes scanning over the auditorium carefully, studying and taking in each of the heroic hopefuls that filled the room.

She brushed her braided periwinkle blue hair behind her shoulder, coughing lightly into the microphone in hopes of getting everyone's attention.

“I will not waste time with what we already know” she spoke softly yet firmly into the microphone “The exam will be conducted in 2 phases: The written and the practical exam. I hope you did well to study. The test will now begin. If anyone is caught cheating, you will be removed from the premises and automatically disqualified. I will also be very crossed and I rather not be today. You may now begin.”

Marco gulped, taking his pencil into his shaky grip.

Marco could feel the relief slide out of his bones as a group of students followed behind the periwinkle haired protractor while exciting murmurs and worrisome chatting filled the air.

Marco was sure he did well but at the same time there was some post test nagging biting at his resolve: Was it more important to fill out the UA report first or the police one? Running blindly into a burning house was a poorly thought plan, right? Right. Right? Right! Umm maybe.

“Sooooo how'd you do?”

Marco jumped, dropping into a fighting position only to notice Star's beaming face

“S-Star!” he coughed, straightening up and scratching at his cheek “Sorry, I....”

“So, did you pass, did you pass, did you pass?” Star cheerfully asked, wrapping an arm around Marco's neck.

“I think so...” Marco willed his blush away to prevent further embarrassment “How about you?”

Star gave a shrug “I probably didn't get them all right but that's okay, the practical exam is where I'm going to shine! HI YAH!”

Star gave a theoretical karate chop and threw in a kick for good measure.

“Man, I wish I had your confidence.”

Star tilted her head cutely “Well, why not?”

Marco blinked in confusion “Umm...well....”

“You just need to believe in yourself buddy and I believe in you, go Marco!”

“Aww thanks Star, I'll bet you'll do great!”

“Aww Marco, hugs!”

and just like, without a second thought or pause in her step, Star wrapped her arms around Marco tightly.

“am I interrupting anything Star?”

Marco could feel his heart crawl to a stop as dozens of eyes landed on him and Star, an awkward tense silence as the blue haired protractor gaze focused squarely on his face.

Marco motioned to pull free of Star's grip but she refused to let go.

“Nope, I'm listening mom!”

Moon rolled her eyes at her daughter's antics but kept leading everyone to the next location.

“Mom? Wait! That's your mom?!”

Star shrugged “Yeah, so what?”

“Wow” Ferguson eyed the couple carefully “You got a girlfriend Marco?”

Marco sighed “No Ferguson, she's not my girlfriend.”

“ooooh” Stars eyes widen with curiosity “Who's that?”

“Hey, I'm the Ferg” Ferguson clicked his tongue and pointed at Star “coolest guy around and soon to be hero extraordinaire”

“She knows your name is Ferguson, I just said it” Marco answered as deadpanned as he could “He's one of my classmates and friends. He doesn't think quite....realistically”

“Don't be jelly Marco”

“I'm not.”

“oooo hi Ferguson!” Star gave a cheery wave “Nice to meet you”

“Star, focus?” Moon called outstretched

“Sorry mom!”

Moon gave a tired sigh as she gestured behind her.

The group stood in the shadow of two massive gates towering high above and wedged in between two ends of a circular concrete wall.

“This is our training ground” Moon explained “It is a recreation of Echo city. Our students learn how to deal with urban environments in various combat, pursuit and other varying situations and scenarios. This is where you will be taking the practical examination.”

The hushed murmurs and excited whispers broke out at once.

“The examination will be a test of your quirks and general heroic abilities” Moon continued over the chatter “Set loose within these walls are three types of enemies, all robotic so you need not worry about hurting anyone. Each robot has a point value attached to them worth 1, 2 or 3 points depending on the difficulty. Simply put, your job is to destroy as many as these foes as you can as these points, alongside your written score, will determine if you will be accepted into the U.A. Oh and as a side note, there is a fourth enemy but it's more of a distraction than anything. It's worth 0 points and isn't worth your time. We will begin in a moment, please prepare yourself. You will have 10 minutes to gain as many points as you can.”

Marco felt a cold wave of dread overtake him, his concern drowned out by the more eager teens.

Could he do this? He literally just got his power this morning and while River explained how it theoretically worked, he had no chance to actually test out the application or even how to active it. And he had to take on various enemies while competing against people who've had years to master and learn their quirks. Every second Marco thought about it, the more dire it became. There's no way he could do this, his dream of being a hero was about end right here, right...

“Marco”

Marco snapped out of his thought and turned to find Star staring at him, determination burning in her eyes.

“We can do this.”

“Star, I...”

“We can do this”

Marco could feel Star's conviction and belief in her words. He could feel the faith she had in him. that they would both make the hero class. that they would both save the world one day.

Pride and hope swelled in Marco's chest and for a brief moment he could see how Star was River's daughter. Their unbound happiness and faith in people was incredibly infectious.

“Right, I got this!” Marco nodded to himself.

“I don't got this” Marco muttered in a defeated tone, his face sagging at the chaotic sight of the mass combat that took place.

The robots did in fact come in three different sizes, from tiny bots that were hardly bigger than a scooter to a 6 foot tall, vaguely humanoid shape with spindly arms and legs. For things determining if they were going to be a hero or not, they were pretty underwhelming.

What was overwhelming was the ferocity the other potential heroes fought with. He had never seen his classmates (and strangers) fight with such reckless and frightening abandon.

Tom the jerk was calmly walking through the hordes of robotic opponents, the bright orange flames burning with an intensity greater than the sun. Any robot foolish enough to try to engage him head on quickly turned into a liquid, metal slop on the pavement. Robots that stayed away didn't fair much better as he lobbed fireballs recklessly into as many of them as he could, burning a fist sized hole in their centers as they crumbled.

Janna was being Janna, cockily gesturing to any and all helpless prey she found. A black rune would form onto the surface of the enemy then fade quickly. The robots glanced quizzically at the beanie wearing girl who clicked her tongue mischievously. Sparks covered their metallic bodies but before they could react, their limbs would loosen from their sockets, their optics popped and broke and without warning, they would simply shut down with Janna's cackling the last sound each robotic foe heard.

As expected from The Queen's and All Might's daughter, Star was a naturally gifted combatant. When she wasn't smashing bots faces against the floor, she was sweeping them off their feet with a well placed kick and for the studier metallic foes, she would karate throw them over her shoulder, releasing a bloodthirsty warcry before moving onto the next unfortunate enemy on her list.

Jackie (Marco let out a dreamy sigh) slid around on her skateboard, a laidback smile on her face as she lazily sailed through the battlefield, lightly tapping any target she came across. A thin layer of frost would spread from the point of contact, enveloping the hapless robotic foe until they were completely encased in ice.

“Hey Marco!” Jackie called out to the petrified teen“You gotta move if you want to stay in the game”

Marco gave a shy nod as she made her way past before shaking himself out of his stupor. He couldn't just sit here and let his chance slip away!

But it was hard. Every time he found a perfect target, they would flattened, shredded, crushed, snapped, blown up or just ripped apart without warning. The points were being snatched up and the enemies were dwindling quickly. At this rate, he'd never get even a single point! All his hard work would be for nothing.

Marco blinked as the world began shake in a strange pattern: A boom followed by a shake followed by another boom, repeating over and over again almost like they were...

The sound of battle was quickly drowned out by the shattering of glass, the crunching thuds of concrete and the bending of metal girders under some heavy weight.

A plume of smoked rose as one of the 20 story buildings fell without warning and in its place stood an impossibly gigantic robot that made the remaining buildings look tiny.

Marco stood there slack-jawed at mechanical marvel that towered over all of them “I-is that the...?”

“The distraction mom mentioned?” Star finished while standing next to Marco “It has to be, it's the only thing we haven't seen.”

“She did mention it was distracting. I guess I'm surprised how much so”

“Why is something like that worth zero points?” Star wondered outloud.

“Maybe...” Marco began

“HELP! LIKE DUDES HELP!”

Marco and Star were pulled from their thoughts. Someone was in trouble.

The pair searched the surrounding area but aside from the now still test takers and scattered debris of what were formerly training bots, no one seemed to be in any sort of danger.

“Wait” Marco gently patted Star's shoulder “there!”

Star squinted where Marco pointed and the circular object she saw earlier wasn't an object at all, it was Ferguson!

“What? Ferguson?”

“HELP DUDES!” Ferguson waved his arms frantically “I can't change back!”

“What's he talking about?”

Marco thought back to his notebook of quirks he studied, pulling up the information he observed from all his years of school with the orange haired teen “Ferg's quirk lets him expand parts of his body, adding more weight and mass to whatever he does. However, when he gets nervous or scared, his whole body puffs up like a puffer fish as a defense mechanism. Until he calms down, he won't be able to return to normal”

“Why would he freak out?”

The ground shook once more as the giant mech took a step closer, easily clearing the half of mile between it and the testers. What was once a massive shape in the distance now basked them in its shadow.

It's amazing that with how diverse and varied humanity was as a whole, only one thought filled the minds of the hopeful students which was to run as fast as they could away from the metal tower.

Everyone scattered, putting as much distance as they could between them and the 0 point giant robot.

Star turned to leave only for her to notice Marco hadn't moved from his spot, his body trembling out of fear. For a moment she thought he was too afraid to escape, that a deep sense of despair overtook him and held him in rooted to the spot. Then she realized while he was shaking due to fear, his face was set in a grim determination.

“HELP!” Ferguson cried out once more.

Star gasped upon realizing Ferguson was still frightened and helpless. Not that she could blame him, the massive bot was just behind him and Star's heart fell when she saw it raise its foot once more to take another step with Ferguson still trapped underneath.

Star desperately looked for her mother. She had to find her and stop this test before Ferguson was seriously injured.

She had to find a way to stop this tragedy from happening.

“Mom!” Star yelled, eyes darting back and forth “MOM! MOM STOP THE TEST! STOP THE TEST! Marco, have you seen...?”

Star turned back to her new friend only to find a crater dug deeply into the ground, the once smooth surface of the asphalt cracked and broken with Marco nowhere in sight.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHH”

The fierce scream caught Star's ears and her gaze shifted to the source of the sound, the one place she would've never thought to look: skyward.

Her blue pupils widened as she saw Marco rising through the air quickly: 10, 15, 20, 50 feet into the air. Rising and rising with his fist pulled back almost like he was planning on striking the robot down.

Marco sailed through the air, the howling of the wind nearly muted as blood thundered in his ears. He couldn't let Ferguson get hurt. Even if he didn't get any points, even if he came all this way for nothing, he couldn't sit there and watch as one of his closest friends was crushed under the foot of some idiotic, mindless robot! He wouldn't let that happen.

Ever

The robot grew in size rapidly as Marco closed the distance, fully intending to smash his fist as hard as he could into its stupid face.

Marco was too caught up in his rage to realize a flaw in his plan. The fact he was now 50 feet in the air was lost on him. The idea that he was about to try and punch out a several ton robot that toppled a building by leaning on it didn't seem to register. All he felt was a desire to save his friend.

Marco could see the wide, human sized optic condense and narrow its focus on him. The robot cutely tilted its head sideways, almost like it was silently asking him “What are you planning silly human?”

Marco's response was the punch.

There was a tense moment of silence as Marco's fist connected directly in the center of the robot's face, unmoving and still while a reverberating thrum echoed deep inside the metallic body of his enemy.

Then Marco was shoved backwards from the force of the attack and for one picturesque moment, he floated there, weightless and still.

A groaning ripple began to spread out from where Marco landed his blow, racing throughout the giant machine's body like a wave, lifting and lowering the armor plates into a disorganized mess. The sound of crunching and broken metal filled the silence as the ripple made its way through every inch of the robotic body.

Then Marco fell, gravity finally solidifying its hold on him and pulling him straight down.

Back of the bot's head exploded, spraying coils of wires, gears, random chunks of metal across the empty street as it leaned forward and fell backwards, crashing against the ground with an earth rumbling thud.

Marco clutched his right arm, eyes watering as sharp pains began to ache through his body. His arm and legs were badly broken and flailed loosely against the raging air current.

“Indeed but before we go, there's something I need to tell you about One for All and your current state. This is important, so you need to listen carefully.”

Marco turned back to River, his face serious and full of concern.

“Just because you have One for All does not mean you cannot use it freely” River explained “Even after all your training and getting you ready to inherit the power was to only prevent you from dying when you use it.”

Marco's face paled “Dying?! What, I could die using it?”

“Not anymore” River chuckled “However I must warn you. In your current state, using One for All will have serious consequences. At very least you will dislocate, if not break your bones. Think carefully Marco when you decide to use it.”

Marco mentally scolded himself. Everything had happen so suddenly, he hadn't even thought about what he was doing. He just reacted and apparently used One for All without realizing it.

And now he was going to die. Zero points and with 3 broken limbs. What a way to go.

The ground was quickly approaching but no matter how hard he tried, Marco couldn't find a way to stop himself without becoming a splat on the ground.

Marco shut his eyes, too scared to see what would happen next.

The howling of the wind stopped and slowed as bopped up and down for a moment. what was a harsh gale was now a gentle if uneasy breeze. The fluttering of wings could be heard and for a moment, he wondered if he had died and gone to heaven.

He opened his eyes and realized while he hadn't died, he was looking at an angel.

Star Butterfly was carrying him bridal style, a relived smile on her lips though she couldn't keep the worry out of those bright big blue orbs of hers.

“S-Star?” Marco stuttered “you're flying? You're flying! How?”

“My quirk silly” She motioned to her back “I can fly!”

Marco glanced backwards and found two pinkish purple butterfly wings sticking out of Star's back, beating back and forth rapidly as the duo made their descent.

“That...” Marco muttered tiredly “is so....cool...”

“Marco?”

Star looked at Marco only to find him fast asleep, his breath slow and steady.

“Hee, I knew you were special.”

“He's as heroically reckless as you dear” Moon spoke, watching the medical team's arrival on the monitor. Luckily for Marco, the UA had some of the best medical heroes in the world. His broken limbs would be fixed soon enough.

“A little. But he's got heart and the spirit of a true hero” River commented, stroking his beard thoughtfully

Moon sighed “Well he's lucky he is. Thanks to that heroic action, he's the only participant who will receive full rescue points. He'll be admitted into the school for sure.”

River gave a good nature laugh “Rescue points. I love them so. It's easy to get caught up in the glory of combat and heroing but true heroes never forget.”

The monitor focused on the sleeping Diaz, his face relaxed as the medical team carried him away on a stretcher.

“It's not just about fighting evil, it's about saving people.”

“Well spoken” Moon concurred “you may tell him whenever you feel like but please don't let the poor boy go too long without knowing he's been accepted. He will no doubt feel terrible that he didn't score any points.”

“Psst, who do you think I am dear?” River scoffed “I will be sure to tell him when he returns home tonight.”

I remember nearly killing River for waiting 5 whole days to tell me I made it into the academy. Seriously, who does that? But it was the happiest day of my life. My first real step on my journey in becoming the greatest hero that's ever lived.

#star vs au #my story

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