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youareiron-andyouarestrong · 7 months ago

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Answer the Questions and Tag 5 Fanfic Authors

tagged by @mosylufanfic, thank you friend!

1 . How did you get into writing fanfiction?

I think I had been telling myself stories in my head since I was old enough to think coherently, but it wasn't until I was in college that I realized that I could write those stories down, and actually put them in the world to be read by other people.

2. How many fandoms have you written in?

According to AO3, I have written in twenty-six fandoms, not counting whatever's lurking in my writing tag in my blog. The fandom I've written the most for is Rogue One.

3. How many years have you been writing fanfiction?

I started writing things to be read in the spring of 2013, so...eleven years. which is insane to think about.

4. Do you read or write more fanfiction?

I read a lot more, but I am trying to set aside dedicated time to write...at least once a week.

5. What is one way you’ve improved as a writer?

I think my phrasing has improved a lot. I love writing long, involved descriptions and worldbuilding, plus snappy banter, which is a thing I think I've gotten a lot better at in the last eleven years.

6. What’s the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

not weird per se, but I definitely looked up Indian wedding traditions for my Kanej mehndi fic and Punjabi names for children (also for a Kanej kid!fic), not to mention I tried to figure out how London neighborhoods work for a Lockwood & Co. fic (I still don't know).

7. What’s your favorite type of comment to receive on your work?

The fact that anyone comments at all is a fact that continues to blow my mind, but anyone who tells me that they loved a turn of phrase, a description, or that one particular sentence flowed/hit home/stuck with them? may they be blessed in their endeavors forever.

8. What’s the most fringe trope/topic you write about?

I wrote a Mad Max: Fury Road prompt/fic where all the characters had beast aspects/animal traits but they weren't were-animals, or something like that? Idk, I really wanted to write tiger!Max and lioness!Furiosa, so that's what I stuck with. 9. What is the hardest type of story for you to write?

Multi-chaptered!! It is so hard for me to sustain a continued story with an actual plot. my latest Lockwood & Co. piece, passed down like folksongs was the better part of a year's worth of labor, not to mention heroic beta-ing, and me going back and adding and rewriting and adding some more.

10. What is the easiest type?

Anything in media res, where I can just jump right in and get to the "good stuff," like the kissing or the action. Too often I get bogged down with the "how did we get here?" or "wait, they were against the wall, now they're on the floor? how did that happen?"

11. Where do you do your writing? What platform? When?

Google Docs is the most convenient, also for sharing purposes, though if a document is like, my thesis work, I'd probably use Microsoft or something more permanent. Someday I'll save up enough to get Scrivener...like a grown up.

12. What is something you’ve been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

I really want to write a sprawling Lockwood & Co fic that's like, involved family trees and weird anecdotes about the Lockwood family, and how ghosts like exist in other places. I would also want to start introducing original characters in different works, but I'm always afraid they'll end up sounding too much like a self-insert. But I'll get there!

13. What made you choose your username?

I had just changed my tumblr handle, and I didn't want the bother of having to keep track of two usernames! so I borrowed a line from a tumblr poem that I admired: "youareiron_andyouarestron." it stuck, and that's been my name ever since.

tagging @dangerously-human, @cats-and-metersticks, @menina89, @linearao3, and @oneofthewednesdays, if they want to!

#tag games #my writing #writing #about me

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thegodthief · 3 years ago

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"Don't talk about your troubles and bitterness online. People read your blog and they won't want to attach themselves to that kind of negative energy."

Fuck you, too.

I'd rather be honest and up front than wear yet another iron mask so I can be brutalized for the sake of someone else's emotions.

I was once told that being in the presence of my fury was like standing in front an active blast furnace wearing only a bikini and for a long time I tried my best to shield myself from others to protect them.

Only to realize, that I was making myself less so they wouldn't have to deal with the consequences of lighting my fury in the first place.

So, fuck you.

Stand. Or run. I don't give a shit.

I am not going to smother myself trying to be your comfy hearth fire.

I am not going to give those experientially younger than me the idea that it's better for them to stuff their ideas of self-independence into a wee little box and put it on the shelf for the sake of those that have yet to prove they have any intention of permitting you to join them in community.

Because that's what my rant is about: Community.

Community is not a list of active participants on the server. It's not a roster of the top ten forum posters. It's not how many identifiers can be placed in your profile.

Community is knowing you can reach out to someone you trust at oh fuck thirty in the morning, ask for help, and receive what help they can give. Community is demonstrating that you can be that person for someone else when they need you to be. That's community. That takes time to build. That's not a banner at the bottom of the screen that you click "OK" so you can gain access to the rest of the server.

Community is hard to find and harder to build.

And I have been stolen from so many times by those who talk so big about having a community but really just want the resources I bring with me. Can what I bring be bent to serve the community without having to reciprocate in turn? Awesome. Wait, what do you mean you can't teach us those things but you'll perform them for us if needed. Why are you gate-keeping, Keri?

So, yes, I will scream in public at times because I have no other place to do so.

I will be bitter and I will rage and I will be fucking honest about how fucking dishonest a large number of online groups are about themselves and what they say they are expecting from their members and what they are demonstrating they are demanding from their members instead.

I don't want to be part of something special. I don't want to have a cute group moniker or brag about fandom participation. I don't want to be counted as someone's special child. I don't want to be held apart because of some thing that was forced upon me by birth, flesh, spirit, or more.

I just want to fucking be and exist completely as what I am.

And if that means today I am pissed as hell for being lied to and used as a byword fucking again, then I will be pissed as hell and there is not a damn thing you can do about it!

Wait.

There is one thing you can do.

Stay hydrated.

Do that, at least.

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dessarious · 4 years ago

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Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt97

AO3 Beginning Previous Next

Ladybug watched Mme. Agreste’s expression carefully. It went from confusion, to recognition, to anger. Well that wasn’t a good sign.

“Where’s Gabriel?” The absolute fury in her tone actually made Ladybug take a step back and she was a little relieved when Discorde stepped between them. This was not the reaction she expected.

“He’s in jail awaiting trial.” The woman’s eyes narrowed.

“He’d better pray they convict him and keep him there. If I ever see him without bars between us he’ll be missing body parts.” Ladybug shared a look with Discorde but her partner looked just as confused as she was. Adrien looked shell-shocked.

“He spent the last three years trying to save you.” The glared she turned on her son was terrifying and he actually took a step back. She blinked at him for a moment and her gaze softened.

“Adrien?” The boy nodded hesitantly. She opened her arms for him and he all but collapsed into her. She looked up and saw Nathalie and her expression tightened. “Has it really been three years?”

“It has. M. Agreste has been working tirelessly to set things right.” Mme. Agreste let out a derisive snort.

“He’s been trying to turn me and the world into what he wants. He’s the reason I needed saving in the first place.” Nathalie’s face went completely blank and Ladybug was fairly certain she was in shock. “Whatever he told you was a lie. Gabriel forced Nooroo to try and contain Duusu in their Miraculous and the backlash is what caused all this in the first place.”

“He did what?” Everyone jumped and Ladybug blushed. She really hadn’t meant to yell but the audacity of such an action pissed her off to no end. It also explained why Nooroo wouldn’t talk about what happened and why Tikki hadn’t been able to figure out what caused the damage. It hadn’t occurred to either of them that the actual Kwami were pitted against each other. Poor Nooroo.

“He’s lucky I only shot him twice.” Discorde’s growled words caused Adrien to glare at her but Mme. Agreste actually laughed.

“I don’t know who you are, but I like you.” Discorde could only give the woman a weak smile at that and Ladybug filed it away to ask about later. Adrien scoffed.

“She’s nothing but a fraud.” Ladybug grabbed her partner as she started growling. Mme. Agreste was frowning at her son.

“We’ve done what we came here to do and I won’t stick around to listen to your insults. Mme. Agreste, I’m glad we could help, and I wish you a speedy recovery.” She wished she was only concerned about what her partner might do, but if Adrien didn’t shut up Ladybug wasn’t certain she wouldn’t go after him herself.

“Wait. Nathalie, could you take Adrien so I can talk to them alone?” Adrien’s face screwed up into an ugly pout but his mother just gave him an encouraging smile. “Everything will be fine. It will only be for a minute then I want to hear about everything I’ve missed from you.” He gave her another tight hug before turning to glare at them.

“Don’t tire her out.” Ladybug couldn’t help the eyeroll as Nathalie led him from the room. Mme. Agreste just sighed.

“I don’t even want to think about the damage his father did that I’m going to have to fix. Not to mention that friend of his.” Discord flinched beside her and Ladybug took her hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. “Not that she’s at fault given her parents but it doesn’t change the fact that her behavior always gave Adrien ideas.”

“What did you want to talk about?” Ladybug wasn’t going to stand there and let her partner listen to this. Mme. Agreste just blinked at her for a moment before seeming to focus again.

“Well, first to thank you. But I also want to know why you two dislike my son so much.” She shared a look with Discorde. Yeah that wasn’t a good topic of conversation.

“You should discuss that with him. And watch the news coverage of the Akuma attacks after.” There was no way Adrien would keep his identity a secret from his mother, and she’s rather the woman form her own conclusions.

“Oh I plan to. I just want to know why he only hates one of you while you both can't stand being in the same room with him.” Ladybug could only frown at the woman in confusion at first. “I’m an empath. It’s what drew me to the Miraculous in the first place.” Oh that wasn’t good.

“I still think you need to talk to your son. If you have more questions after that, perhaps we can talk again. As things stand I’d rather not influence your opinion on the matter.” The woman was just frowning at them in thought and Ladybug could feel her partner getting more nervous.

“I suppose I can understand that. But I will want to speak with you again.” Well that didn’t sound ominous at all. “I would also like to speak to the Guardian.”

“Why would you need to do that?” Discorde’s tone was borderline hostel and Ladybug squeezed her hand again in warning. If the woman really was an empath she didn’t want to give her too much to work with. The Miraculous magic should protect their identities regardless but she didn’t want to take more risks than necessary.

“You need to learn to relax, not everyone is a threat.” Discord just gave the woman a level look.

“Perhaps not but if I assume they are, people are far less likely to get hurt by my carelessness.” Discorde winced as soon as the words came out and Ladybug couldn’t help but side eye her partner. Looks like they had one more thing to talk about. Mme. Agreste’s look actually softened.

“I suppose that’s true. In that case I look forward to earning your trust.”

AO3 Beginning Previous Next

Ko-Fi

Tag List

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#maribat #marinette dupain cheng #chloe bourgeois #emilie agreste #adrien agreste #nathalie sancoeur

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an-ambivalent · 4 years ago

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yandere shisui + obito

Warning: This post contains yandere themes and mentions of other toxic behaviours (such as violence and unhealthy relationships) that can be triggering and uncomfortable to read. So, read at your own risk. This work is purely fiction. I do not condone this behaviour irl.

Fandom: Naruto

Pairing: Shisui x Reader | Obito x Reader

Status: A mix breed of headcanons and scenarios, requested.

Ask: Hi! I’m so happy I found your blog! Could I request a yandere Shisui reacting to someone trying to get close to his s/o, possibly trying to kiss them or hug them? And if it’s okay the same but with Obito? Thank you! :)

No beta, we die like men.

Shisui

~One of my previous headcanons for Shisui is that in his “darker” moments, specifically jealousy, he might become harsher on his darling and lash out or something, which is perfectly applicable in this situation.

~Shisui is always watching you. Even when he’s not there, he knows what you’re up to and what’s going on around you because he always keeps an eye on you through one of summonings or illusionist birds. So, he knows about this situation as it happens.

~Despite how much this situation infuriates him, he also sees this as a perfect opportunity to test you. He wants to see if you’re loyal to him like you’ve been saying you are in order to have him give you some more freedom. So, when you get home, Shisui is there waiting for you.

~Shisui is a busy shinobi and since you’ve adapted to being his darling, he rewarded you with some freedom and let you leave the house on your own to do some grocery shopping. It was the biggest mistake on his part because the minute he does allow you to leave, is suddenly when someone else makes a move on you. This just showed to him he can’t let you leave out in public on your own because there’s too many scumbags, like the fella who flirted with you, out there.

~So the moment you return and close the door of your shared abode, the air shifts. It feels heavier and more cunning. It doesn’t help that as you move to put the groceries in their rightful place, Shisui’s intense gaze is digging holes in your head.

He will approach you casually, with a wide grin on his face. And if you weren’t averting your eyes from his and looked at his face, you would have seen that the corners of his lips were twitching, indicating how forced his grin was.

He wanted to see if you would tell him yourself and be honest. He had really hoped you had told him the truth on your own.

“How was your trip?”

It was a simple and single question, not difficult to answer. However, the heaviness of the truth underlining his tone made it evident that he was aware of what had happened, and he was kind enough to genuinely hold the bait over your head to give you the chance to take it. Whether it was the fact that you had frozen in fear, or knowing that admitting the truth to Shisui would lead him to killing an innocent person who had only flirted with you, something held you back from answering honestly. And reflecting on this in hindsight, you were a fool, an absolute fool for wishfully thinking that Shisui would not know the truth, and you could get away with lying for the sake of protecting some stranger you didn’t even know and causing more trouble for yourself.

“It was fine.” You responded simply.

“Just fine? Nothing in particular that you want to inform me about?”

“No.”

Just like the simple single question that created the heavy atmosphere, your simple single word answer led to unwanted consequences. Before you could even blink, Shisui had you pinned against the kitchen’s wall, and he towered over you. His face was barely a few inches away and he was gripping your chin tightly between his thumb and index finger.

“You shouldn’t have lied to me sweetheart because I know what happened. Now, not only am I going to kill that asshole who tried to steal you away from me but also teach you about what happened when you lie to me.”

Obito

The worst situation you, a poor victim of a possessive yandere, can find yourself in is someone blatantly ignoring the man next to you who is fiercely clutching your hand in his, and making a move on you in order to try and steal you away from him.

As the other person is trying to woo you and attempt to touch you, you do your best to let them down nicely and hope they take the hint. Not for your sake, but theirs because with the way they’re going, it would not take long before the man beside you loses himself to his fury.

Few seconds pass and that’s when you feel it -- the domineering and suffocating glare Obito gives, with his sharingan blazing bright and his tomes starting to spin so they form into his mangekyo sharingan. A shiver of horror goes through you and before you can take your next breath, the body of the person in front of you is still standing, but there is no head.

Petrified, you scream and tried to run away. Anticipating your reaction, Obito was instantly behind you, and wrapped his arms around you and brought you back forcefully so your back was against his chest. You could not help the tears that fell down the corner of your eyes from the horror of the gruesome killing before you.

Obito gently patted your head and tenderly kissed the side of your forehead.

“Shh, you don’t need to cry and waste your tears on a scumbag like them. I know you’re a sensitive soul but they got what they deserved. You’re mine and I will kill anyone who tries to change that.”

#yandere naruto #naruto x reader #yandere x reader #shisui x reader #uchiha x reader #yandere shisui #obito x reader #yandere obito #naruto headcanons #yandere imagines #naruto imagines #yandere uchiha #akatsuki x reader #yandere akatsuki #naruto scenarios #possessive #jealousy #ambivalent writes

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unmaskedagain · 5 years ago

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Rather be Me (than with You)

youtube

Hey everyone. This is a kind of angsty ONE-SHOT; not the usual humor and fun I usual go for. I decided to do something a bit different. I experimented with the idea of a story where Lila doesn’t get exposed. Marinette just moves on. Decides she deserves better. This ISN’T a QUEEN MARI but Marinette does realize she’s a queen.

This is Anti-Class but not Lila bashing. I didn’t not to got the normal LILA BASHING everyone usually does. Don’t get me wrong, Lila Bashing is my favorite tag in this fandom. But I wanted to do something different. Tell me what you think and if you like it.

It had been a long time since Marinette had cared about their snickering; cared that sometimes she ate alone. Marinette hadn’t given a rat’s ass about what anyone in her damn class thought. She had been done for a long time.

A year had passed since Lila created the hurricane that pretty much turned Marinette’s life upside. A year since Alya had been her best friend, since Adrien was her crush. Since Ladybug’s partner was Chat Noir, a year since she was anyone’s everyday Ladybug.

These days the other students in class ignored her, and she was fine with it. The minute Marinette stepped back and decide to say, “Fuck Them.” Lila had left her alone. The Italian girl still side-eyed her every now and then but was content to let Marinette be. One thing Lila did right was that she saw Marinette exactly as she should be seen; an unbeatable threat, and one hell of pain in the neck if she tried hard enough. For a while, Lila was sure the Marinette would expose her, that every lie she spun would come undone.

But then one day, just a few months after Lila had returned, Marinette came to school with a big grin on her face. Lila said one tall tales, and the other girl didn’t even blink. Lila still remembered that their eyes met and saw: nothing. No longer did righteous fury reside there. No hurt expression. Or tears. Just apathy, sheer indifference to everyone in class.

Lila didn’t smile that day. In fact, she found it hard to really smile for the rest of the week. Because though technically she had won, it didn’t feel like a victory. It was like the game the two girls played had resulted in a stalemate and Marinette decided the battle was over. Marinette lost all her friends. Lila had no choice but to keep up the lies, particularly, after her mother announced they wouldn’t be moving like they usually would after a few months. It took a lot of work. Lila could admit that if she had know Paris was permanent, she’d have been a little more honest.

So, in the end, neither girl won but neither girl lost.

Nevertheless, Lila was smart. She knew when to back off. And so she did. She learned quickly that if she kept Marinette’s name out of her mouth, she was golden. Lila also learned that Marinette wasn’t made at Lila. It was everyone else the Asian girl had a problem with.

Everyone else in class who quickly realized just what life was like without their everyday ladybug.

Gone was the random sweets from her parents’ bakery. Gone was the well planned birthday parties and class trips. Gone was the comforting shoulder. Gone was the friend who they could call no matter time of day or night if they needed someone to talk to. Gone was their biggest supporter. Gone was the always friendly face that promised to brighten the darkest day.

The kids learned quickly, that if they were in trouble, they were on their own. Apart from Akuma attacks, that Ladybug still showed up for. Though Ladybug had taken to ignoring the students, particularly Alya. Even going as far as to say to the teen reporter, in front of other journalists, that she doesn’t talk to tabloids; too many rumors and lies.

This had slowly but surly caused the downfall of the Ladyblog. Alya could no longer get the best scoop; no that went to Aurore who created an entire website with tips and advice and videos about and straight from Ladybug. The website fully endorsed by the hero. Alya had quickly decided that she just needed to talk to Ladybug to clear up whatever was caught the strife. It was then that Alya remembered that Marinette had gotten her that first interview, the interview that had launched the Ladyblog’s success. Marinette who she was no longer friends with.

Marinette who had it clear that she didn’t care. She didn’t are that Alya’s beloved blog had spiraled into nothing. That Nino’s music career seemed to be at an all-time standstill. That Marc and Nathaniel’s comic and partnership had gone down in flames. (Mostly because Nathaniel had taken too much of Lila’s advice and changed too much of the comic to be recognizable.) Or that Ivan and Mylene had broken up. Juleka had gone back to never showing up in pictures. Rose was in tears that Prince Ali no longer wished to speak to her. Kitty Section had broken up. Chloe was a bigger bully than ever, though she too was smart enough to stay clear of Marinette. The list went on and on, getting worse and worse.

Even the teachers realized just how much of a control presence that Marinette had. And just how lost their classrooms were without her.

But still, Marinette didn’t care.

Marinette had been screwed over. Once. Twice. A dozen times. Her best friend, her sworn bestie, hadn’t been the loyal friend she promised she was; acted nice when was so not nice. Chat Noir, Adrien, had left her to fight alone so many times that Master Fu took back his Miraculous. Screwed over by her best friend. Twice. And then by all the other kids.

Still, no one could understand how the sweetest girl could go full Ice Queen.

They had been smart enough to get Luka and Kagami to ask Marinette at the school’s end of the year party. Adrien got Kagami to ask as Marinette had taken to ignoring him for a long time by then Juleka got Luka to promise to find out. Kagami and Luka had become her closest friends. And the fact that her classmates would use them to get information on her, just reminded Marinette just how done she was.

She was so done.

So after the two had asked. Instead of answering, Marinette texted Colton, her friend, and DJ of the party. Marinette needed to make something clear.

When the song, ended Marinette got on stage.

“Hey,” She said into the mic. Her hair was only a bit longer but the blue had been dyed out of it. Her skinny jeans were black and ripped and she had on a red halter top was lacy and elegant. “Someone of you might not know me. But I’ve done enough for this school and a lot the students, to know majority of you do.” Her tone was dry and her stare blank. “Over last year, I took a step back you could say from, well, bullshit.” There were laughs. Most of the students who knew of Marinette and had been affected by her kindness had reached out almost immediately when they realized something was wrong, something had changed.

Marinette looked at the students, “I got screwed over by too many times to count.” She sighed. “Turns out, a lot there’s a lot of assholes in my class.” She said bluntly. “So how do I deal with it all. In fact, how do you deal with all the drama and bullies and liars and two-faced bitches in your life? I got some advice for you. Pay close attention because it worked great for me.” The music started and Marinette started to sing.

“Here's my secret strategy

It always works because

The world doesn't end

It just feels like it does”

Marinette wasn’t the best singer but she was decent. The song wasn’t about high notes or theatrics. It was sung with grace and humor. A strong daria morgendorffer vibe.

So raise your right finger Marinette raised her right hand flicked off the entire school and looked right at her classmates. There faces turned red and their eyes were wide.

And solemnly swear

"Whatever they say about me

I don't care!"

The first few months had been hard. And full of mean looks were way and nasty remarks. Until they realized they needed her. They needed her charm. Her can-do attitude. Her to come back as class president. Her ideas. The free handmade clothes she designed.

I won't twist in knots to join your game

Rose, surprising, had been the first to try to tempt her back. The other having enlisted the second sweetest girl in class to talk to Marinette. Rose had told Marinette that if she just admitted she was wrong Lila and apologize, they’d take her back. Marinette had told her to fuck off.

I will say, "you make me mad."

And if you treat me bad

I'll say "you're bad"

And if I eat alone from this moment on

That's just what I'll do

'Cause I'd rather be me, I'd rather be me

I'd rather be me than be with you

Marinette had eaten alone for weeks until she made she found real friends in other classes, both upper and lower grades. That was when Marinette found out that she was well-liked by the majority of the school. And the majority of the school didn’t buy Lila’s lies.

We're supposed to all be ladies

And be nurturing and care

Is that really fair?

Boys get to fight, we have to share

Marinette found new friends, made new plans, her schedule filled up again, and she was happy. That was when the rumors started. Alya and Alix, leading the charge, had taken upon themselves to tell Marinette new friends what a bully she was and the rest of the school as well. They got upset when no one believed them.

They got even more upset when they realized Marinette didn’t care. At all. However, when Alix had taken it too far, he had decided to get physical and trip Marinette in the lunchroom….

Here's the way that turns out

We always understand

How to slap someone down

With our underhand

Marinette got up, pulled her arm back, and knocked Alix’s lights out. “Don’t try that shit again,” Marinette had warned her ex-friends. “I have no problem kicking each and everyone one of your asses.”

She got a week’s detention but she smiled all the way through.

So here's my right finger Marinette flicked off the school again; waved it around so everyone could see it.

To how girls should behave

'Cause sometimes what's meant to break you

Makes you brave

So I will not act all innocent

I won't fake apologize

From then on, it was everyone understood that a new Marinette walked the halls. One that didn’t care about being nice. How ladies should behave. She refused to apologize after a fight. And she never backed down from an agreement.

Turns out losing all her friends didn’t break her. It made her braver. In a way Ladybug never managed to before then.

Let's just fight and then make up

Not tell these lies

Let's call our damage even

Clean the slate till it's like new

Marinette never gave in; even when the ice out happened. All the kids in her class ignored her, they didn’t say a single word to her. Refused to pair with her. Didn’t even acknowledge her existence.

It's a new life for me

Where I'd rather be me

I'd rather be me

Than be with you

The once bluenette just laughed at their childish antics. She didn’t bat an eye as they wanted her too. She didn’t understand why they couldn’t fight like normal people. Or the very at least call the war done, the damage even on both sides, and then move on with clean slates.

I'll say, "NO!"

NO!

I'll say, "knock it off,

with your notes and your rules and your games."

Marinette had just gone: NO. No. She wasn’t going to play their little games. Do anything to make it even remotely look like she card. It was over. She was done. It was all just a waiting game.

Waiting for them to grow up and realize, it was game over. There was no magical way their friendship would ever be restored. They should move, let go. Find something better. Accept the loss and learned to live with it.

Like she’d done with Lila. Marinette hadn’t been happy with the results of their chess game but she could live with it. Move on. Got a new life.

And those sycophants who follow you, Marinette turned her attention to the pretty Italian girl. If Lila ever came after her again… Or when her kingdom of lies fell, and there was no doubt it would. Marinette would be there to watch it burn.

I'll remember all their names, She sang to Lila who nodded having understood. Even she knew her time was running out. Though Lila wouldn’t just hand over her power willingly. No, Lila knew it would have to dragged away from her bloody hands before she let it go. Lila would fight. It was just the way she was.

The one thing Marinette liked about the girl.

Alya was getting desperately. Eventually, she’ll realize the answer to all her problems lay in the comments on her blog. All questioning why she was promoting such an obvious liar. And when she did… There would be hell to pay.

And when they drag you down

Like they inevitably do

I will not laugh along with them and

approve their palace coup, 'cause that's not me. She promised her once the greatest enemy. (Hawkmoth’s was Ladybug’s.) That caused Lila to smile.

Because when the faux-faced kids turned their ire onto Lila. When they dragged her through the same torment they put Marinette though. At least the wannabe Volpina wouldn’t have to worry about the once Every Day ladybug.

In fact, if Lila played her cards right, and she nearly always did. She’d find an alley to teach her. Teach her not to care. Teach her to be stronger. Teach her out to say “Fuck you” to the world.

Because Marinette no longer cared enough to have any reason not to. Granted she could just say, “I. Don’t. Want. To.” Like she did frequently these days.

Janis. Janis. Janis. Janis

I don't need their good opinions

I have plenty of opinions

Everybody has opinions but it doesn't make them true

Marinette didn’t care what her old friends thought. Or that they didn’t like her. Who cared? So what if they thought she was a bully? Or a jealous liar. Or a bad friend. Or the new Ice queen.

She shrugged. She had a lot to say about them to. And sure she bitched with Luka, Aurore, and Kagami but it wasn’t serious. It was just to vent. Because who cared?

What's true is being me

And I'd rather be me

I'd rather be me than be with you.

So raise them high 'cause playing nice and shy is insulting my IQ

Marinette had no problem being a bitch if they pushed. She was no longer shy and sweet and far too nice for her own good. Because she had learned her lesson.

And, Marinette thought, she learned it was so well that life rewarded. She was making clothes for Clara and Jagged. Worked with Chloe’s mom. She had an internship with Teen Vogue, in New York, that summer. Won several design contests. Got to see one of her designs on the red carpet worn by an up and coming actress that Jagged recommended her to.

The actress said the brand was MDC, created by a kickass teenager name Marinette. That dress got the actress on the best-dressed list, and Marinette twenty more commissions by other almost, or kind of famous celebrities.

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah

I'd Rather Be Me

So maybe I should thank you. Marinette adlibbed the line but sang it directly to Lila who smirked as she knew exactly what the other girl was referring to.

While Marinette would never say it, Lila knew, she had done the girl a favor. Showed her who her real friends were. Or weren’t. And without them, without the niceness and overly caring nature she once had, Marinette had thrived; gone further than Lila ever imagined.

Lila had only wanted them because she liked the attention. However, she knew they weren’t real friends. No matter what Alya said, they weren’t besties. Lila didn’t trust the glasses-wearing girl as far she could throw her.

Because now I know…

I'd Rather Be Me than be with you!

Most of her classmates looked sad. A few looked angry. Lila just looked up at her used to be nemesis with admiration and a small smile.

A brief look of wonder and hope flashed over her face and for a moment she of just saying “To hell with it.” Screaming her sins and go binge watch Grey’s anatomy. Take up dance class when summer was over and the new school year began. She always loved dancing.

It was the only thing Lila knew was honestly good at; great at even.

But that moment passed. Lila liked her power. Besides, there was a good chance she could make everyone think Alya was crazy or lying to convince to save her blog; that Lila wasn’t the liar.

Lila smirked. She had all summer to slowly leave breadcrumbs that Alya was reading too much into the situation, was too desperate, didn’t know what she was talking about. By the time the summer ended, Lila could have all other students convinced the once future great journalist had just lost her edge. So much so that it was reason Ladybug dissed the Ladyblog.

Alya wouldn’t be a challenge like Marinette had been. Not even close. Marinette had been the Sherlock to Lila’s Moriarty. (If Marinette had kept the game going, Lila would’ve too. Until it was a full-scale war. No prisoners. Just blood; both metaphorical blood and the real red stuff.)

Alya would be too easy. But it would still be fun. Even if Alya managed to pull a fast one, there was no way their little friendships would survive what they did to Marinette. Not all the blame could be put on Lila, no matter how much they tried.

And when Marinette didn’t come back after the truth was revealed and they begged and apologized for never believing her; for not trusting her. Blame would shift. Especially if Lila changed classes like she knew Marinette had to be at least considering.

I'd Rather Be Me

Because, Marinette would never be their friend again. They were just pawns in the game of life. And Marinette realized that while pawns could become queens. They never went back to being pawns again.

I'd Rather Be Me

I'd Rather Be Me than be with you!

Marinette was doing just fine. She wasn’t their friend. She didn’t like them.

And most importantly, Marinette didn’t care.

#ml salt fic #ml salt #marinette dupen chang #Marienette Dupain Cheng #Queen mari #alya salt #lila salt #saltinette #miraculous of salt #Nobod #nobodyfamousposts

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unholyplumpprincess · 4 years ago

Text

Campfire Kisses

Commission for @dragoncoochie for Meg Thomas/Reader!

Summary: Meg and Reader with Meg having been making moves on the reader and after a bad trial where Meg sacrifices herself to take the Mori ORIGINALLY going to be given to the Reader, the reader offers for her to come back to their room. Or! In which Meg is dumb and in love and will do anything to protect and please her pined after sweetheart involving sacrificing herself to the killer who has Beef with her. All for love, and ya know, to give head.

Reblogs > Likes! Please Reblog if you hit like :D

!!!Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked!!!

Fandom: Dead by daylight

Relationship: Meg Thomas/Reader

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Reader is gender neutral and has a vulva and is mentioned with one as such and the word Breasts is used, Dead by daylight normal violence, mentions of blood and blades, otherwise ya know the works!

Words: 2.6k

_____________________

She just couldn’t catch a break.

The trials in this world just seemed to get harder and harder. In the beginning, Meg and the few others had been scared, confused, and only few to face the horrors of the killers. It had been hard back then when they all barely knew each other and only had each other to cling to through the nights. Confusion, fear, everything raced through their minds.

But most importantly: Survival instincts.

As the trials progressed, they began to see new people coming in, but new people always meant new killers. New challenges to face, new people to join the ranks and to offer their skills. The Entity was never kind to new survivors, everyone was made to go through the same harsh trials and go against the killer they came with.

Whether those killers they had met before and faced once, or new ones they had no idea had to do with them.

~Rest under the cut~

Of course, new faces meant that their camp would expand. The small cabins they all shared got bigger and rewards were given to those who escaped. Whether that be a homecooked meal from your home, new clothing, a warmer blanket for the cold nights, better showers at the cabins, and even things that went as far as sex toys if you were stressed. The Entity would reward those with fighting spirit just as they would their killers for providing sacrifices.

Because if you ran out of hope, what more would you run on?

However, these new faces also meant newer challenges that weren’t killers or new places for the hunt to take place. The prior survivors had to get used to new people now entering their bubble and joining their ranks, people who they had no idea of personalities or if they’d get along or if they’d be self-centered and prefer to thrive off their own skills.

It also meant, that when you had arrived, Meg had to deal with the complications of a crush.

She just couldn’t catch a goddamn break.

At first it hadn’t been much of a thing, just her thinking you were attractive. Then to find out you were also really kind and to learn more about you? It had sealed Meg’s fate. She hadn’t felt this way for anyone in a long time, but to be fair, you lose track of time in the trials. No time for romance to blossom.

Teaching you how to run the trials and what was to be expected of you was her job like anyone else’s! Except...she took hers a little bit more in depth with you. Explaining how certain killers were more prone to distractions, that if you couldn’t outrun them where to hide. You looked at her with awe and delight but something that made her heart twist into pieces; Fear. You hadn’t ever had to fight for your life- not like this.

She wished more than anything she could hold you in her arms and make you feel the safety she hoped you would.

When the trials start for you, Meg always feels a twisting in her gut if she isn’t chosen for the trial with you. She tries to blame it on nerves, telling herself that it’s just because you’re new. But, with any of the other newbies, she hadn’t felt like this at all. Not with the way she paces and chews on her nails and tries to pass off the anxiety as something else.

But, she knew what it was. When your smile enraptured her like nothing else and the dark fog could not even stop her from seeing the sunlight when you laughed. Meg felt like she was back in college again, her stomach doing flips over any new pretty face that walked her path. But you, you were different- and this realm?

This realm was not like anything they’d ever described in fairy tales.

Today, the trials had been in favor of the two of you together. Meg, you, Nea, and Quentin had all wound up in the same trial. The realm of The Macmillan Estate was a dark one, hard to see through a very long distance. But once Meg had caught sight of your familiar clothing, she’d darted to you to find you crouched behind a tree with grease smudges on your hand and explaining you had a generator nearby, but you had heard your heartbeat pick up.

Your eyes have fighting spirit, but the way you shake reminds her that you’re so new to this. She remembers her own fear, her own need to live, only to find out there was no living or dying. Only sacrifice.

“Just stick with me and we’ll get through it, okay?” She whispers quietly for you, reaching up and gently cupping your cheek when you don’t seem to focus. Watching your eyes flicker over her face before you steel yourself and nod.

The Macmillan Estate, as mentioned before, was indeed a dark one. Hard to see through a very long distance. So when you two got separated for different hiding spots, Meg thought she had seen you go a certain way- only to hear you scream nearby as the heartbeat picked up.

Watching you dart around the corner with a slinging machete at your back narrowly missing makes dread curl in her stomach.

There were times like this human instincts kicked in: One was to run and hide again. The other was filled with fighting spirit, the need to protect you from harm.

Her legs burn by the time she runs to catch up, her lungs burning with just as much effort. You’ve been hit once, blood curling down your spine and the way you limp breaks her heart. Her heart is pounding, aching as she watches the Trapper begin to get closer.

She’s not close enough- she won’t make it in time- guilt begins to swarm in her chest as she cries out just at the same time you do as another well-timed slash drives you to the ground.

The second she realizes he’s not leaning down to pick you up is the second she realizes he’s starting to flip you over.

A Mori.

“NO!” Her scream is ear piercing even to herself as she dives in front of you, throwing you out of harm’s way and knocking herself onto her back. Vaguely, out of the corner of her eye, she sees movement and a beanie just as Nea drags you to safety behind the brick wall to begin patching you up. But not before she catches your eyes, huge and hands outstretched towards her body with the scream of her name from your lips.

Knocked down, it’s anyone’s fair game.

As the blade slashes clean through her body with the fury of a beast finally catching its prey and the Mori is complete.

The fog is an empty place to wait for a trial to end. Never ending running as you hope you’ll come across the campfire at some point. The Entity made is so wherever you ran was just more fog, but you always had that feeling as if you’d come across it anytime soon. You never would, no, not until all four people were running the same way to signal the trial had been complete.

You, Nea, and Quentin make it out with Quentin clearly having been hit last second. The wounds heal as quickly as you all burst through the fog, injuries repaired but clothing and dried blood remaining. Not to mention emotional damage and new scars.

Meg is almost in a daze when you all come through the fog. Nea and Quentin are quick to take off, leaving you and Meg out by the campfire. It’s quiet, for the most part, watching you fumble with your hands and bite at your lower lip, you try to come up with words-

“I’m sorry-” Meg starts.

“You shouldn’t hav-” You speak at the same time, tears in your eyes as you whip your head to face her.

“I couldn’t stand to see you in such pain,” She manages to push out past you, her southern accent almost seeming thicker from her agony, whipping to face you so she can reach out again. Hesitating and waiting for you to say no or make a motion that you didn’t want to be touched. But as you look at her with teary eyes, she can’t help but to cup your cheeks and draw you closer so she may rest her forehead to yours. “I couldn’t- I know you can handle yourself, I know this is what we DO, b-but-”

You cut her off, a soft peck to her quivering lips with a quick turn of your head. It’s certainly worth it from the surprised look she gives you when you lean back, searching your eyes as you shakily exhale, eyes still teary, “You’re a good woman, Meg. Thank you- I know you’ve been here longer and you’ve been so helpful so far. I...I...” You hesitate, letting your eyes flicker to her lips as you struggle to find the right words. “Do you...want to share my bed tonight?”

Like you even had to ask.

There’s something almost satisfying when Meg can get you into your room. Almost as if she’s caught her own prey when she whispers against your neck if you want this and you nod vigorously for her before she starts to caress your sides and kiss up your neck.

There’s something even more satisfying when she can get you into bed, watching you eagerly throw your clothes off as she tugs off her own jacket. She gets to watch your skin get exposed inch by inch, a big smile of eagerness on your face as you kick off your pants and drag her back on top of you just as eager.

And the icing on the cake is when she keeps dodging your mouth, kissing your cheeks, nose, dipping to the side so you peck her cheek until you whine and she laughs, moving her mouth to yours.

You’re completely bare while she rests in her tanktop and joggers. Your hands have long since worked her braid out, fingers combing out her red hair that falls in her face when she leans over top of you. Her hands on either side of your head, body fit between your thighs with your cheeks flushed and eyes searching her own half lidded pair.

No, no, Meg could never catch a break.

Not with the way your lips, rosy from too many kisses, part in awe up at her and form into a beautiful smile. Or the way you reach up to wrap your arms around her neck and curl your fingers into her hair to drag her back down for more kisses. Or the way you grind up into her front, smearing the front of your pants with your wetness as you eagerly hump up into the way she applies pressure for you.

“You’re so eager,” Meg laughs as she parts, breathless and dizzy off your taste. She moves down, pressing kisses to your neck and down over your collarbone to reach your breast. Gently lying on top of you so she may kiss there as well with a soft moan in her throat, “Lookin’ pretty as a picture, sweetheart.”

Her mouth seals over a nipple this time, licking at the bud and letting her other hand slide down between your legs. Meg shifts, making room between the two of you so she can cup your mound and slide two fingers through your lower lips to rub at your clit. The noises you make are far too beautiful, especially when she squeezes your clit lightly and your hips jump with a soft squeal exiting your lips.

“Aw, too much?” She coos, leaving your chest so she may nip down your body until she rests back between your legs. When you nod, throwing an arm over your face to hide your blush, Meg can’t help but grin. “That’s alright, baby doll, you’ll like this part much better- spread your legs just a bit more?”

When you near immediately obey with shaky legs, she coos again, low in her chest and kissing at the very top of your mound to give you an idea of where she’s going. “Good, you’re so obedient, can’t believe ya made me wait this long,” You seem to get drunk off her voice, judging by the way you nod again and lift your hips up just a bit more. Meg could laugh, she could, but she’s just as drunk as you are from your scent alone.

Two fingers spread your lower lips, Meg’s lips fluttering kisses down over your slit, down over your clit to where she pecks again and again until you whine. You move your arm, your other hand resting on the back of her head and see the way she looks at you. She looks at you like a pleased cat now that she’s caught your eye, grinning briefly before sealing her lips over your clit and giving a small suck.

Not your...best moment with the way you make a loud, high pitched noise, and hide back in your arm, arching your back and your hand that had grabbed her hair shoving her right back down against you. Her laughter may have been worth it in the end, but your cheeks burn when she gets to working on you.

Slow, long licks over you from hole to clit, as if savoring your taste. The way she moans against you doesn’t help either. Her hands come underneath your thighs, snaking up and around them until she can grasp at your upper thighs and dig her nails in before she sets her tongue on your clit alone.

“Fuck-” You hiss out, tossing your head to the side and lifting your hips up everytime she gets a little bit more intense. It gets to the point where you’re practically humping her face, abandoning your politeness by the time she moves one arm from your thighs so she can work two fingers into your slick hole.

It’s far too much. From the way her tongue works you over as if she’s known your body for centuries, to the way her fingers curl and pump inside of you. Twisting and scissoring to press upwards until both your hands are in her hair and you’re making the most beautiful noises to her ears.

You cum with a sharp cry, grinding upwards against her and pushing her head down. Meg’s eyes flutter as she tries to look up at you, watching your lips part and your brow furrow as your body shakes with each wave from the orgasm.

A sigh leaves your lips, satisfied as your hands ease on her hair to pet it back from her face instead, fisting it into a ponytail for her. It’s sweet the way you look down at her fondly, a smile on your lips and eyes half lidded.

It’s even sweeter when your eyes shoot open when Meg smirks cockily and nuzzles right back between your legs to make herself at home for another orgasm.

Or two.

Of course when she’s finally done with you by the night you’re a mess, tired and scrambling to snuggle her by the time she gets up, cleans off, and comes back to your bed. You try to murmur that you’ll repay her or get her next time, but as you drift off to sleep, arms around her and your nose nuzzling against her jaw?

She can’t think of anything else she’d ever want.

#Meg Thomas #Meg Thomas x Reader #Dead by daylight #Dick by daylight #dbd #nsft #lemon #commissions #princess writing

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stuckylibrary · 4 years ago

Text

Group Ask 177

What is a group ask?

Previous Group Asks

AO3 Search Tutorial

Please send us an ask stating which group ask and which person you are replying to. Thank you so much in advance!

scottiedotmp4 said:

i’ve scoured the apocalypse and post-apocalypse tags on AO3 but can’t seem to find this fic. all i can really remember was that steve and bucky lived in a cabin and thought they were the only survivors. i think bucky found steve bc steve kept trying to contact ppl with a radio broadcast. they had a garden and chickens and at some point contacted tony who lived in the west coat. thanks so much!

emzy2, time-lord-no-more, oh-ursmari and Anon sent in The Day the World Went Away* by 74days (complete | 21,323 | T) *chose not to warn

Anon 1 said:

hey :) so there was this fic i read a few months ago that i wanted to read again but i cant find it. basically, the avengers are wondering why steve is not getting in the christmas spirit and try to figure it out and then they find out that bucky died on christmas or something and that’s the reason why. sorry if that’s vague, thank you so much!!!! :)

dolphinqueen10 sent in For the Holidays by togina (restricted, oneshot | 11,279 | T)

Anon 2 said:

Could you please please help me find a fic where bucky and tony are running from cops. Its a cacw canon divergence where tony hates bucky as he has murdered his parents but ends up befriending him eventually when he realizes how much steve loves bucky and that bucky is a good human. I guess stucky is established relationship in this story. Congrats on the new blog, the fandom loves you!! Thanks!

getstucky sent in i need a forest fire by tomorrowsrain (complete | 65,812 | T)

Anon 3 said:

I CAN NOT find this fic where Bucky is living with Steve post hydra and isn’t able able to jack off and he goes to Steve’s room one night thinking that Steve will have sex with him. Steve is horrified and gives him a lecture about how not masturbating is dangerous with their increased sex drive with the serum and ends up letting Bucky fuck him instead. Any suggestions helpful, I’ve tried every tag combo I can think of!

sheetsforwhichimmade and possibleplatypus sent in Deep-Six* by Claudia_flies (oneshto | 3,474 | E) *chose not to warn

pekinessa22 said:

Hi! Ok so i have lost two fics (the travesty i know) The first one is an ABO fic where steve is about to give birth and he is isolated for religious reasons and after the baby is born bucky kinda smugles himself in (if i remember correctly it was like old roman vibes but i cant recal for sure).

(Polyamory:) The other one is nat/bucky/steve pure smut where the three live together and i remember bucky at one point laying nat on the dining room table like a snak for steve (smut ensures) THANKS

delilahdraken said:

I'm looking for a post-apocalyptic AU where skinny Steve is working as a mechanic. He finds Bucky in a landfill while looking for parts to repair something. Bucky is still a Winter Soldier, but different. They tried to make soldiers that could survice a nuclear winter, which they did, but it also made them sort-of vampiric and difficult to control. There is mention of a neural implant that stopped working for Bucky. Also Bucky's blood heals and only he can open a weapons cache Nick Fury wants.

Anon 4 said:

Hi! Do you know the fic where Steve died before the war and Bucky joins the Howlies and gets taken by Hydra but is saved by the Avengers and he kinda sees Steve? I think Peggy was Cap! Think you can find it?

Anon 5 said:

Hey there! Thanks for all that you do!!! I'm looking for a fic where Bucky has memory loss and video chats with Steve everyday from his room and then one day Steve doesn't video call him because he's depressed and Sam talks to Bucky. Steve maybe also reads Bucky a story every night? I would appreciate any help identifying this fic!!!

yumathings said:

Hi. I am desperately looking for a historical fic. I went through all the tags and .... I can’t find it. It’s a poor Bucky with a title and Steve with money. I think. But FOR SURE Bucky ja a war injury that keeps him in bed and they think he will die soon. So may as well marry and get a good settlement for his sister. But Steve is a good guy. And he figures out how to help Bucky and .... obviously.... they fall in love.... do you know that one?

greyhavensking, possibleplatypus and Anon sent in The Bargain by GoodbyeBlues (complete | 20,647 | M)

Anon 6 said:

Hello, I'm not really sure how to use tumblr but I'm looking for a fic where there's accidental noncon. Bucky asks Steve for stuff after sex and Steve doesn't realize that Bucky is using sex to barter for things he wants.

possibleplatypus sent in Uberrima Fidei* by asocialconstruct (oneshot | 3,075 | E) *rape/noncon

Anon 7 said:

Hi there! I’m trying to find a fic without results, maybe you can help. I remember just one thing: bucky and steve stuck behind enemy lines have sex and the scent of hormones kind of make the bad guys fuck too, so they can escape. I think it was abo and it’s either set during the war or in modern setting, but I don’t actually know. It’s really old, I tried to search in the abo tag, but I didn’t find anything. Sorry I couldn’t be more specific. Oh, it was multi chaptered if I’m not wrong

lesbucci said:

There’s this Fic I’m trying to find, but I only have a screenshot and I’m worried it might be deleted? The part I have screenshotted goes like this: “What kinda fucking stunt you trying to pull here, Rogers? Fucking left a note? Like that was supposed to fix it?" Bucky wants to rage, more than anything, twist his bones into something formidable so he can break, but there’s no one to hurt here but himself, and baby is all he's got. Only thing he ever owned, besides Steve.

Not a Stucky fic, Anon sent in a deleted Supernatural fic: The Dark Descent and Up To Reascend by Theboys

Anon 8 said: (possible underage?)

hi! Im looking for a fic where Bucky was modern and Steve was still Captain america. They lived in the same apartment building, I think Buckys was directly under Steves, so he keeps sneaking in until Steve catches him. I'm pretty sure Bucky was younger, a lot younger. The ending was something like Bucky showing up at one of Steves events and Steve sees him and just smiles in Buckys direction? please help me! thank you

possibleplatypus and Anon sent in erupted with rubies* by yasgorl (oneshot | 8,009 | E) *chose not to warn

Anon 9 said:

Hello! i love this blog thanks for all your organizing skills. I’m looking for a short fic where Natasha gave bucky a bath bomb and steve realizes he likes them so he buys him more. thanks

#group asks

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afterlife-butterflies · 5 years ago

Text

Quincy with an Angel!Reader

A magenta and black butterfly lands on a leaf, causing it to rustle tentatively under its weight. My, it’s one of the first insects to visit the garden, during the magical hour of Dawn, no less!

(As you can probably tell, I’m playing around with a concept for the blog. This is my first post for Afterl!fe and I have two more ideas in the works, but feel free to send in a request or general ask to my inbox! I’d love to interact with more people in the fandom~ Anyways, hope you’ll enjoy these headcanons!)

When you tell him you're an angel, it takes a moment for the information to sink in.

"Wait... Huh?!"

Sure, he gets annoyed by your occasional righteousness and chiding (you were simply keeping everyone in line) but never really connected it to this (he also likes you, so that might've muddled his senses as well)

When Quincy makes his peace with it (you‘re still the same person he knows regardless) he starts to see the obvious signs that he's missed before

He calls it dumb and distracting when you glow or float from being in a good mood, but actually finds it to be an oddly calming/cute sight. It's also easier to read you since he's aware that random sneezing indicates negative thoughts.

Him comforting you is a developing skill, but he tries his best, taking reference from how he's seen you console others in the past.

You help Quincy with being more open about his softer emotions (sensitivity, showing weakness), while spending time with him gets you more comfortable with expressing 'unpleasant' ones like distaste and anger (this essentially strikes a healthy balance in the end) - The first time the other guys see you angry? He's so proud and they are so surprised and kinda scared (an angel's fury is not to be trifled with)

You are not a pushover by any means, despite your regular stance of being generous and kind. It takes a bit of time to witness you condemning those attempting manipulation, but he admires how you’re standing tall for yourself and not letting them do whatever they want

Some of the others might tease him for falling for an angel (“it sounds like the plot of a novel, how romantic~”), but his rebuttals to them never target you personally, instead insulting them for even bringing it up (it’s a small detail but is telling of how he cares - something that only a few of his peers will pick up on)

If people try to mess with you he’ll take it as a personal challenge, perhaps spiking their food with hell-level spices as a sneaky way to teach them a lesson. His arsenal of magic would be pretty useful for this as well, if the situation calls for it.

#afterl!fe scenarios #afterl!fe: the sacred kaleidoscope #afterl!fe imagines #afterl!fe headcanons #afterl!fe quincy #afterl!fe writing #afterl!fe #afterl!fe quincy x reader #quincy #quincy x reader #afterl!fe x reader #afterl!fe x you #wishes granted

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darksiders-scenarios · 5 years ago

Note

Your blog is fantastic and my inspiration in pursuing this fandom :D As a request, how would the Horsemen and others of your choosing react to some of the rarer human disorders/diseases, like the inability to feel pain, produce adrenaline, or feel fear? Humans are weak, but under the right circumstances, I imagine being physically unable to feel fear or pain would be rather terrifying if that human chooses to fight... ;>>

I’m really sorry for the embarrassingly long wait and thank you again for your understanding when we messaged! I’ve only focussed on the HM, and may write a separate post for the others (sorry again for using the scenario format instead of a reaction!). Also, thank you so much for your kind words

(sorry that I got a bit carried away with the violence)

War

The fuse to the keg comes in the form of stupid words. ‘If you want it dog, then come and fetch it.’

Predictably, War does not react to the timeless insult and keeps walking away. You do not walk away.

Your anger ignites courage and in a blur of movement, as though time itself has bent to your will, you are onto the Watcher. You can hear Samael’s howl of delight somewhere nearby as the second fist blow to the face causes black blood to spray.

‘How dare you?’ you roar as the next blow elicits a satisfying crack. The plating of the Watcher’s accursed face is as tough as clayware, breaking your knuckles upon the fourth impact.

‘Tis but a scratch’, you had joked in the past before laughing at War’s dumbfounded shock.

No one is laughing now as the Watcher recovers from his initial shock, spluttering curses, and his clawed fingers trap your arms in a tight, locked grip, digging hard and bursting your veins. You can hear brutish snarls and they come from your own throat. In the time it takes to blink, you rear your head back, fleetingly glimpsing something red, and crash your head against the Watcher’s face.

All six of his wretched eyes are screwed shut. Three of them are bulging swollen in bleeding sockets, oozing repulsive dark gore. Not enough. Not enough. Your own eyes are smeared in a thick sheet of blood. One eye open yet unseeing. Blind. What inconvenience. You can only imagine the state of your own face, a delightful canvas of mashed nose and swollen lips.

‘How dare you!’ your head crashes into his face again, thrice more, unyielding, giving no ground.

Fresh curses choke out of him. ‘What in the nine hells are you?’ the Watcher manages through depleting strength as he struggles to hold you back.

You respond by striking him again and again and again. Absence of pain forces more powerful blows than its predecessors. And you strike and strike and strike and there is nothing el-

Metal gauntlets drag you back, separating you from the Watcher. Through your near-ruined vision, you see the Watcher floating behind one of the statues before collapsing on the hard ground, cradling his bleeding head, screaming his hatred and promising death at you though the shake in his voice dampens the effect. Your fingers twitch. The unremorseful bastard-

The gauntlets squeeze your shoulders. You do not realise you are shaking. You wipe your eyes, resulting in more smeared blood. You see your friend. You see War supporting you, his panicked eyes roaming the ruination of your face.

You grin through bleeding gums and missing teeth. ‘That bad, eh?’

Death

It comes without warning. Death yells at you to stay back, to flee, to hide damn you. You are not ready for this kind of fight. Then he vanishes from the Crystal Spire with a sonic boom, blasting into the rushing air, colliding against floating rock debris and crashing onto a distant platform, where he still clashes with the Archon in battle.

That was ten minutes ago. Now you are being strangled by the merciless fingers of the Corrupted Archon after teleporting you to the platform, clutching you high in the air, the Rod of Arafel in the other hand. He turns to a raging Death who is pinned down by decayed-festered tentacles trapping his limbs against the rubble.

‘Witness Pale Rider, the prize of yet another failure on your damnable soul.’

The metres-long rod punches through your stomach, thrusting from your back. You heave grunts of exertion against the savage intrusion, forcing fractured breaths out of your ruined lungs.

Pain is nothing to you. This is true, even now on the brink of exsanguination. But the scream that is wrenched out of Death’s throat, raw anguish never heard before, as you are lifted several feet in the air, perhaps comes closest to it that day.

Nerveless legs swing wildly like heavy sacks against the gravity, useless from the waist down. With shivering fingers, you grip the rod that impaled you with one hand, the other long amputated to halt the spread of disease. ‘It is futile to try to escape,’ the Archon whispers, mocking in its gentleness. You clench your teeth and exhale a growl. The Archon raises his brows.

You pull, hearing a few pops and cracks. You slide closer to the Archon, gasping against the barrier that is your shattered ribcage. Behind the Archon, you see Death frantically tearing the tentacles, ripping and clawing at them in desperation.

You cough. Blood hisses as it evaporates on the energy-fielded staff. Strength is fleeing you, along with your mortality. The Archon’s attention is pinned on you. That is… good… very good.

You clutch and pull a second time, feeling more cracks inside you. Finally, your strength gives and you drop your head against the haft of the rod, feeling the ethereal thrum through your forehead. You do not know if you passed out until you hear the Archon whisper in breathless awe. 'What are you, child?’

With a last grunt, you force your head up, meeting the sick reverence in his eyes.

You use your last breath as your reply. 'A hindrance.’

Deathgrip wraps around the Archon’s waist, causing him to release the Rod of Arafel as he is pulled back. You fall.

You never see the outcome of the fight.

Fury

'Pain… pain is nothing to me,’ you sneer through sliced lips, raising your head at last. 'Do you hear me? Nothing.’

'Everyone breaks. It’s just a matter of adapting to your needs.’ Your captor smiles and you hear chuckles joining in.

And then the knife drives through your remaining eye.

She should have known.

The signs were there in the quiver of your fingers, the wildness in your eyes, the hyper stiffness of your spine - the silent plea that was louder than the storm. But she stepped through the portal leading to her 'homerealm’ anyway. Humanity was restored to its vitality. She was no longer needed as a 'protector’. You did not need her anymore.

She should have known the peace would be a myth. She should have known you would be an easy mark for mercenaries and assassins with your connection with one of the Four. The greed and hunt for superficial glory and false promises repulse her.

'It’s been a while, has it not?’ Fury greets your captor amiably.

They stiffen. 'Y-You.’

Fury chuckles. 'Amazing how the past reaches the present with such clarity.’

Their face flushes. 'I- You don’t understand.’

'What I understand,’ Fury says patiently, 'is that you are in possession of someone who you have no claim to.’

'We…’ their eyes dart around as though looking for something, expecting something, or someone. 'We… we can talk about this.’

'We are talking now, are we not?’

Sweat trails down their face like rivulets as they stumble for the right words, attempting to stall time, constantly looking around for whatever they’re expecting, now panicking when they realise the futility of it. The stink of fear almost makes Fury’s lip curl.

At last they break. 'I’ll show you where they are. Take them and leave!’

Fury bows her head. 'What an intelligent human you are, you’ve come a long way from the pitiful toad I found in the gutters of the catacombs. Please accept this as a token of my gratitude.’

She tosses something from behind her back and it rolls to your captor’s feet. The severed head of their comrade looks at your captor in eyeless accusation.

Realisation dawns on their idiotic features. Fury smiles, and it is by far the most unnerving sight your captor has ever seen.

Little remains of the friend she loves. You are nothing more than a battered husk, laying slack against your restraints. She kneels before you. Your eyes were taken during the torture.

Fury calls softly, 'Y/N? Can you hear me? It’s Fury.’

You stir weakly, head swiveling in her direction. You open your mouth as though to speak but no sounds emerge from your tongueless mouth. Fury’s heart clenches painfully when you lean on her slightly, as though comforted by her presence.

'I shall take you to the shamans,’ Fury croaks, not concealing the emotion from her voice. Your shoulders shake in silent laughter, and tensing when the Horseman tries to free you as though you… as though you…

Fury stops, stares at your mutilated body, and then asks the heaviest question that ever left her tongue. 'Do you wish to live?’

Your head stirs again, and you give her your answer.

Strife

It happens during a Council mission. The 'ally’ that you have been assigned reveals their true colours at last, catching both of you off guard. The last moment has Strife shove you out of the way before the energy blast hit you, taking the full brunt of the damage himself. Now he lies paralysed on his front, muscles bunched as he fights to regain control of his limbs.

The dark mage points the staff at the prone figure, the tip crackling with generating energy. Too slow to reach them, you tear the helmet from your head and hurl it at the traitor, causing the staff to slip from their fist upon impact. You always hated the blasted thing.

Distracted, the traitor decides to 'toy’ with you, deciding to indulge you as you decide to indulge them in turn. Besides Strife and his siblings, no one else is aware of your rare autosomal recessive disorder. The mage chants something and the air suddenly ripples in a heat haze. Without your helmet, your flesh is vulnerable to the intolerable temperature rise.

Without your helmet, the heat never bothered you.

You race through the chamber, steeling your heart against Strife’s broken screams for you to flee, crash through the fire barrier and launch yourself at the traitor. The minute shocked confusion registers on their face before your fist shatters their nose. You manage to bite off their ear, hearing the crunch of their dislocated bone before you are hurled viciously onto the melting floor.

The distraction throws the mage’s concentration off, allowing Strife to regain some control over his body and he is already clawing his way to you. But he is too slow.

Strengthless arms would not move. Nerveless legs would not jerk. Blinding light steals your sight forever and thunderclap shakes your hearing. Blinded and deafened, you never know whether Strife is still screaming and you never see the sight of his tears. You are helpless when you are levitated in the air, never hearing the shrill chime of the spear that lances through the air before piercing your chest.

And then blissful nothingness.

You never know the fate of your murderer, the hammering of Strife’s pistols in vengeful hatred as he chases your murderer and rips them to shreds.

His siblings never find Strife.

#darksiders #ask #congenital intensitivity #angst

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dessarious · 4 years ago

Text

What Makes a Family? Pt13

AO3 Beginning Previous Next

The next time Marinette woke it was still dark. She was in her bed this time and when she looked around she found Luka and Kagami on her Chaise and Chloe on the floor. It was a common enough configuration and Marinette was ready to just go back to sleep when Tikki spoke.

“Alfred’s downstairs and wishes to speak with you.” She fished around the bed for her phone to see the time. Four in the morning. That didn’t bode well. “I think he just wants to speak with you before the others arrive.” That comment woke her up like a blast of cold air. She was going to be meeting her birth father and his kids, not to mention her twin. She was absolutely not prepared for this. She quickly descended the ladder and then the stairs to the living room. Alfred was sitting at the kitchen counter with her parents.

“Tikki said you wanted to talk?” Her parents started but Alfred just smiled at her.

“Yes Miss. I would like to talk to you about Miss Cassandra before the others get here. She had a very… unusual upbringing and there are some things it would be best you knew beforehand.” She just blinked at him for a moment trying to figure out what he could possibly mean.

“Okay.” He looked to her parents. “They can hear it. I’m sure they’ll be meeting her sooner rather than later.” She didn’t want them at the initial meeting because she wanted to feel out Mr. Wayne without them glaring at him, but she had no intention of keeping them apart permanently.

“As you wish. Your mother made a deal with Miss Cassandra’s father. Her life in exchange for a child.” Marinette frowned. She wasn’t certain if it was worse that the offer had been made or accepted. “Talia used the agreement to also create you. Sort of a test run for Damian from what we can gather. Your mother was furious at the deception and since that wasn’t part of her deal she ran with you and left Miss Cassandra with her father.”

“Well that explains why she left me here. She never wanted children in the first place.” She watched her parents exchange a look and Alfred seemed at a loss. “But that’s not the point. You were going to tell me about Cass’s childhood.” Alfred gave a nod but hesitated.

“Yes. Her father had her bred and trained for one purpose. To be the perfect bodyguard for Ra’s al Ghul.” Her parents sucked in a deep breath and Marinette felt her mind go blank. That was… not what she expected. When she didn’t say anything Alfred continued. “She was meant to be the perfect weapon. He chose your Mother for her ability to read body language, and trained Miss Cassandra in only that and combat from birth. In order to do that he deprived her of everything else. She was not spoken to, so she never learned to speak, nor was she taught to read or write. She had no way to communicate with others.” Marinette felt fury that she’d never even imagined at that. At their mother, Cass’s father, and the league. How dare they do that to her little sister. That thought caused her to pause. She didn’t know their birth order… did she?

“How long was she there?” Her parents were side eyeing her and she realized how much anger was still in her tone. She couldn’t help it though.

“Until she was eight. She was sent on a mission and just never went back.” There was a lot more to that story, but she honestly would rather hear it from the source. So there had been five years between that and her being adopted by Mr. Wayne. Five years when she’d likely been completely alone. Marinette felt guilt well up even though she knew it wasn’t her fault.

“She’s been with Mr. Wayne for four years now so I imagine she’s learned some things.” Alfred reached forward to cover one of her hands and she gave him a small smile. He cleared his throat.

“She has. Her speech is still rather broken. She has trouble finding the words she needs. She’s far more fluent in sign language.” That made sense given she was far more used to watching than listening.

“Chloe knows ASL so she’ll be able to teach me, and translate if necessary.” She chalked it up to her luck that Chloe had decided to piss off her mother by learning sign language rather than something ‘useful’. Audrey had expected her to pick Mandarin or something else that was more widely used but Chloe noticed one of her mother’s employees in New York was deaf. That had been an interesting blow up.

“I have a feeling the two of you won’t have a problem communicating.” Alfred’s voice was dry but amused.

“They may not but the rest of us likely will. If Chloe doesn’t have time to help we’ll have to take classes.” Her Maman said it more as a proclamation than a comment and her Papa just nodded in agreement. She felt herself choke up as she thought about how lucky she was. That brought a new wave of guilt.

“We really are the epitome of good and bad luck. I have to wonder if it’s my fault her life was so horrible.” Tikki and Plagg both flew up to her face looking pissed off.

“Your good luck rubbing off on her in the womb is likely the only reason she was able to escape in the first place. It’s definitely the reason she ended up with your birth father. You are not to blame.” Tikki sounded certain and now she had a whole host of other questions.

“Tikki’s right. As my Chosen, bad luck and misfortune were bound to follow her. I’ll be able to shield her from the worst of it once she has the ring.” Plagg sounded… determined. She’d never really thought about that, but now she had to wonder if Plagg’s ‘I don’t care’ attitude was to cover their own guilt.

AO3 Beginning Previous Next

Ko-Fi

Tag List

@moonystars14 @ladybug-182 @elmokingkong @smolplantmum @jessigurl-design @trippingovermyfeet @its-salty-bug @whydoexamsexist @scorchdragon88 @alenee13 @lil-1254s-blog @sturchling @random-fandoms7 @fandom-writer642 @chylou34 @thewitchwhowaited @junarvion @laurcad123 @hakoirii @aestheticnpoetic @aegyobutpsycho2 @sassakitty @swiftie-miraculer13 @miraculous-simmer7 @peachedpocky @misslenamooney @shamefullove @user00000003 @18-fandoms-unite-08 @galla02006 @thestressmademedoit @toodaloo-kangaroo @trinity-1002107

#maribat #bio dad bruce wayne #marinette dupain cheng #Alfred Pennyworth #Tikki #plagg #tom dupain #sabine cheng

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yndigot · 4 years ago

Note

Howdy! For the '50 Writers Prompts' ask, may I request 3, 11, 13, and 33, and 38?

3. What was the first story you ever wrote about?

I was a pain in the ass at naptime in preschool and the teacher let me sit at a table and write a little story -- folded into a book, complete with illustrations -- about my doll. I also wrote Alvin and the Chipmunks fanfiction in the first grade, a good five or six years before I knew what fanfiction was, and wrote a weird sci-fi/fantasy play in the second grade. I tried to compel my friends to help me produce this play. They lost interest like ... 2 minutes into me explaining my vision and it never happened.

11. What’s your favorite book?

I don’t think I have a favorite because I go back to different things again and again depending on my mood. The “literary fiction” book that’s currently occupying the most space in my brain (like ... the thing that’s very well, artistically written) is probably The Heart’s Invisible Furies by John Boyne. The dumb popcorn book that reads like fanfiction that’s taking up brain space is Red, White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston. (I don’t want to bag on it because it’s hugely popular in certain corners of fandom ,and I probably would and will write fanfiction for it myself -- and I deeply love Alex as someone who does not see a lot of queer mixed tejanos in fiction and didn’t know how much I needed it -- but it is VERY much popcorn, improbable silliness, escapism, and little tidbits that probably could have used a fact check because they knock me out of the narrative for a minute). I also have tons of “favorite” books that I rely on for research with passages I read again and again, books I remember fondly from childhood and will go find particular passages to read over and over, a couple poetry collections I’m drawn to, short stories that really stuck with me that I’ll wander back to ... etc. It’s very dependent on my mood and what’s on my mind.

13. What’s your favorite trope?

I’m guessing this is in the fanfiction tropes sense, so I’ll say that I really like good kidfic, although the overwhelming majority of kidfic makes me cringe. But I keep trying because I love the good ones so much! Honestly most of the standards can be fun if the person writing them is good at it, though. I think some things that very clearly just ... retell canon but in a coffee shop can wear a little thin, but after 20 years in fandom, I have read and enjoyed at least a couple examples of every classic, constantly recycled trope.

33. Which themes do you like to write about the most?

Any time I answer questions like this, I know I biff “theme” in the literary analysis sense. Academically, I like to write about religious history and queer history. When I was writing a lot of creative nonfiction, it was about gender/sexuality and identity, social isolation and mental illness, and elder care (for obvious reasons). Fictionally I lean into ... slightly dysfunctional romantic relationships. Generally not horrible, explosive, abusive relationships, but ones where something isn’t quite working and everyone just keeps muddling along.

38. What is your ultimate writing goal?

I used to put quite a bit of effort into trying to be published in my late teens/early 20s (like ... trying to write things that were appropriate for specific calls for submissions and stuff), but it never really worked out for me. I had a couple small things published, but mostly I found that I wasn’t hugely motivated by the prompts, so I’d tend to give up. I got a good chunk of the way through a BFA with a memoir focus, but never completed it. The capstone for that would have probably been completing a collection of personal essays that would (allegedly) be publication ready. I got a few excellent essays completed, but didn’t ever finish enough for the collection. I might circle back to that at some point? I think, outside of fanfiction, that’s my strength, and once I finish my degree I’m working on at the moment, it might be nice to see if I could finish the BFA -- see how many of my credits are still good. I’ve dabbled in fiction (both short story and novel) but it never really clicked for me like creative nonfiction did. I enjoyed that, but I ended up dropping out of the program when my life got overwhelming and my mental health tanked.

Honestly, though, at the moment I just want to get into a headspace where I can write (creatively) as much as I used to and, ideally, finish a few fanfiction projects. I was going to try to do a Downton recap/commentary blog leading up to the release of the first movie. Maybe I’ll attempt it with the second? I’d forgot about that. It could be fun. The idea had been to use that as a sample to get some content writing gigs, but my mother and my classes I was teaching were overwhelming at the time, and I didn’t follow through. I sometimes apply for ad/social media or technical writing jobs, but those never seem to pan out. That’s not really a ‘writing goal’ so much as a type of writing I think I could do if I could catch a break, but no success so far.

Ideally, my current degree would help me get a job writing educational materials for a museum or other public history institution. Maybe that’s the real answer so far as “goals” go. “Complete my last few grad school class papers, then my thesis project, and then get a job writing educational materials.”

#ask meme #this was fun #221expressions

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fortunatelylori · 5 years ago

Text

Next to being married, a girl likes to be crossed in love now and then

Thoughts on Sanditon finale

It is a truth universally acknowledged that you should never blog in anger. Last night’s Sanditon episode left the entire fandom in a state of uproar. Cancelations have been issued. Curses have been cast and tears have been shed … those were mostly mine, to be fair.

For once I decided not to start furiously typing just as the episode ended but wait out the inevitable momentary fury and return to the episode tonight for a second viewing. I have to thank @and-holly-goes-lightly and @kitten1618x for putting up with my temper tantrums late last night on private chat so all of you nice people wouldn’t have to endure my more volcanic outbursts. Being far more reasonable people than I, they pointed out the grayness in a sea of black and white and made me reconsider the episode.

In addition I would advise anyone to do a second viewing of the episode if you haven’t done so yet. Reason being that your first viewing of something that you are so deeply invested in will always be heated. I could hardly pay attention last night to the scenes I was watching because I was so desperate to get to the ending. On top of that, the reality of what you see on screen will fight with the theory you’ve already made in your head and more often than not you end up disliking canon not because it’s bad but because it’s not what you thought you were going to see.

That being said, after a thorough rewatch, I have to declare this episode as one of the finest finales to a season I’ve seen. I say finale to the season, not the series because as a series finale it would be more than a little disappointing. But if there is one silver lining to take from this episode is that we are getting a season 2. I just can’t see how we wouldn’t.

Now, nothing in life, has any business being perfect and this episode wasn’t either. So I will quickly list what I felt were the major flaws so we can proceed to the good stuff of which there is plenty.

Not sparkers of joy

The pacing and structure

It was somewhat rushed. Scenes jumped from one to the other without much preparation (particularly in the first half) and several things were not addressed. People have pointed to the fact that they did not include a Charlotte/Georgiana good-bye scene which I agree was a mistake. In addition, we were presented with a Georgiana and Arthur that were the best of friends even though in episode 7, Georgiana couldn’t stand him. That’s not to say they couldn’t reach this point but I expected to see that journey, not skip it.

Georgiana, on the whole, was odd. Aside from her rebuke of Sidney and conversation with Charlotte which were keeping in line with what she did in episode 7, the rest of her time on screen was perplexing. She was lively, dancing with everyone, huge smile on her face … this being the girl that refused to leave her bedroom a few days before. Again, not saying she couldn’t get to this stage but where did I see how she did that?!?

The whole Sidney/Eliza situation was resolved off screen which … why?!? First we weren’t given the scene of him sending her packing in ep 7 and now we have no idea how he turned that around to the extent that he got himself engaged to her and with the money to save Sanditon, all in a week.

I mean ok, I get that he’s got but ... OK, OK! He’s THAT hot!

There were other examples of shoddy storytelling but those stick out in my mind the most.

The sudden tone shift

The reason why I reacted so badly to the episode to start with was because for 7 hours I was led to believe this was a fluffy, cozy regency romance in the vein of Northanger Abbey or Emma. Sure, things happen to cause momentary sadness but it all gets resolved in the best way by the end of the episode.

Instead the Sanditon finale marked the tone shift from the fluffy to the angst. We are now firmly in Persuasion/Sense&Sensibility territory. It’s still Austen as I will explain below in more detail but I would have appreciated some warning that this is where we were heading.

The specifics of the cliffhanger

Now this is obviously personal preferences but I do have some issues with the manner in which they chose to separate Sidney and Charlotte. Having Sidney propose to Eliza in order to get the money to save Tom from prison does resolve several issues in a very expedient way: it forces the two young lovers apart; it creates angst and anticipation for the next season; it also allows for Charlotte and Sidney to both be victims of the separation and still desperately in love with each other and wanting to get married.

However, the cost is that Sidney is now in the position of doing to Charlotte exactly what Willoughby did to Marianne in Sense and Sensibility. Sidney is obviously not Willoughby and his motives are selfless. But his actions are a play by play of Willoughby’s betrayal: he pursues Charlotte, kisses her on the cliffs (substitute that for Willoughby taking a lock of Marianne’s hair), means to propose to her and then disappears, only to return engaged when a lack of money force him to choose between love and a fortune.

He even makes a “I don’t love her” confession, similar to Willoughby’s scene with Eleanor. Of course, Sidney tells Charlotte that not to victimize himself like Willoughby but rather because he can’t bare the thought that Charlotte might think he’s done this because he doesn’t love her. But you can see how this kind of narrative choice can really negatively impact Sidney’s character.

It’s sad that they chose this cliffhanger, particularly since they didn’t need to. I firmly believe that had they ended on a more hopefully note for Charlotte and Sidney we would have tuned in anyway for season 2. I wish they had had more confidence in their story and in their viewers.

But enough of the negative!

Sparks joy

Theme

I have to say that thematically, they hit this finale out of the park. The most important piece of dialogue in this whole episode occurs between Esther and Lady Denham:

Lady Denham: It is infinitely better to be loved than to love. Especially in a marriage.

Esther: You’re speaking from your own experience or someone else’s?

Lady Denham: My own. Not with my husband, of course. It was long before that. A man called Rowley. Some people said he was the handsomest man in all of Somerset. But to me he was the handsomest in the world. And he knew it!

Esther: What happened?

Lady Denham: He kept me dangling for a while. Trembling. Waiting for a look, for a smile, for a tender word … like one of his dogs. And then he up and married a girl from Gloucestershire, with 50.000. He had debts, of course. Couldn’t have afforded to marry me. Should have been obvious to me at the time but … you know what girls are.

May I just say that Anne Ried’s performance in this scene is a treasure trove of skill and emotion? You can just feel the longing and the sadness this story can still elicit from this seemingly cold matriarch. Lady Denham, like all our characters, is more than she seems. She starts off as a Lady Catherine de Bourgh clone and develops into one of the wisest, mot rational people in the show.

She gives Esther excellent advice and is compassionate when she realizes what Edward has been doing to her.

She also gives us our theme for the finale of Sanditon and perhaps of the whole show. Because her speech doesn’t just apply to Esther and her relationship to Edward. It applies to Georgiana’s heartbreak over Otis and Charlotte’s impeding heartbreak at the hands of Sidney. In even more general terms, it speaks to the heartbreak most Austen heroines experience at some point during her novels:

Next to being married, a girl likes to be crossed in love a little now and then. It is something to think of, and gives her a sort of distinction among her companions - Pride and Prejudice

Her whole speech reminded me of what my mother told me the first time I broke up with someone I loved. She said: “No girl can pass through life without having her heart broken”.

The show telegraphs this home by having the Sidney/Charlotte cliff walk follow immediately after this scene.

We are so distracted by the innocent beauty of Sidney and Charlotte being in love and so mesmerized by their first kiss:

That we fail to take Lady Denham’s warning seriously. And, just like Charlotte, we end up paying the price for it

The Austenverse

Lady Denham also clues us in to where exactly we are within the Austenverse. Many people have claimed that episode 8 marked the moment this stopped being an Austen story because Austen novels always have happy endings:

My characters shall have, after a little trouble, all that they desire.

Did you think we were just going to skip the “little trouble”part? Sweet summer children! We’re at the moment where Elizabeth finds out Lydia has run off with Wickham and thinks she’s lost Darcy for good. We’re at the moment where Knightly reprimands Emma for treating Miss Bates poorly and leaves for London. We’re at the moment where Anne is forced to join her father in Bath and believes Fredrick will soon marry Louisa Musgrove.

And finally, and most pertinently since this is what Sanditon is trying to emulate, we’re at the moment where Edward’s engagement to Lucy Steele is made public and he and Eleanor say their final good-byes (supposedly).

Austen heroines are never spared heartache. But it is a depiction of heartache that is not gratuitous. It allows the characters to grow, to understand the true depth of their feelings and eventually to value the good fortune they have when it all turns out for the best in the end.

And no novel drives that point home more than Sense and Sensibility and Austen’s Eleanor character, the suffer in silence heroine who pretends she is fine, all the meanwhile dying on the inside. Kind of like this:

Honestly it shouldn’t surprise me that we’ve ended the season on this somber note. Sanditon visually owes a great deal to Davies’ Sense and Sensibility 2008 adaptation. That mini-series had a somewhat different feel to usual Austen productions, particularly in comparison to the 1995 Ang Lee film. It was darker, grittier and had a bit of a western feel to it than Sanditon reproduces to great effect, I think.

So it’s quite understandable, in retrospect, that Charlotte’s character arc would see her start off as a Marianne type character (open, romantic and impulsive) and slowly turn her into Eleanor by the end of the season.

In order to make that transition complete, a lot was asked of Rose Williams and she manages to convey the transformation in one breathtaking shot:

I am deeply, deeply impressed with her acting in this episode, and particularly in this scene. You can literally feel her heart breaking and see the mask that will dominate in the church scene fall into place.

Which brings us to Sidney …

I’ve said it a million times and I can’t help but say it again: Theo James OWNS this character. I don’t know if he simply hasn’t gotten the proper material in his career until now or if there’s something special about Sidney that resonates with him but his acting is so spot on that even when Sidney breaks Charlotte’s heart, behaving like Willoughby as I’ve said, you can’t hate him.

Not when he is the same man who gets chocked up as he tries to propose to Charlotte:

Not when he’s the man who tells her this:

Sidney: I have never wanted to put myself in someone else’s power before. I never wanted to care for anyone but myself.

And not when, with just one look, Theo James is able to convey Sidney’s despair and pain. How can you hate him when he’s clearly breaking himself into tiny pieces over giving Charlotte up?

And how the hell can you hate him when you can hate … this clown instead?

Oh, sorry I meant …

Words cannot describe how much I loathe Tom Parker. Well actually, my new fictional mum comes close to enunciating our common and general distaste:

Lady Denham: I will see you in the debtors prison! I will see you in the poor house! Where are your promises now? Dust and ashes! You might as well have lost my money at the gaming tables! You despicable man!

If only Lady D would have been allowed to go forth with her threat and hand Tom over to the debt collectors. How much happier everyone would be right now!

Unfortunately the Parkers are far too nice for their own good. They all jump in head first, trying to save this sorry excuse for a man. Arthur even offers up his entire inheritance. Tom refuses … Not because he thinks it’s not right for his youngest brother to risk his entire life’s comfort for his unworthy clown’s ass but because … IT’S NOT ENOUGH MONEY!

Tom Parker has amassed 80.000 pounds worth of debts. Luckily Google allows me to illustrate to you exactly what 80.000 pounds meant in 1820s era England:

80.000 pounds could have paid the wages of an immortal skilled worker in perpetuity!!!! And this MORON decided not to ensure it … Apparently, Kris Marshall has said that Tom is the Regency’s version of Steve Jobs … I assume Steve Jobs too let his younger brother prostitute himself for his benefit, after already taking a 3000 pounds “loan” from him and thinking up ways of spending his baby brother’s inheritance on top of that … Oh, wait! Steve Jobs was a visionary who died a billionaire. Take several sits, Kris!

What really irritates me is that everyone is very quick to absolve Tom of any blame, jump to his defense and in due course Tom, himself, decides he should not be so hard on himself, which is why he is ecstatic when Sidney returns to Sanditon, with the news of his engagement. This is what comes out of Tom Parker’s mouth:

Tom Parker: This is excellent news! Oh, Charlotte, glorious news! Sanditon is saved!

So he knows full well that Sidney has asked Mrs. Campion to marry him in order to save him and he is perfectly willing to let him go through with ruining his life. The saddest part is that the rest of the Parker family goes along with this lunacy.

That includes Mary who already knows that Sidney and Charlotte are in love. Kind and sensible as she might be, Mary decides to turn a blind eye to Sidney’s sacrifice and Charlotte’s pain in order to have her husband safe. And it shouldn’t come as a surprise since she’s the one that told Sidney this back in episode 1:

Sidney: And tomorrow is the famous ball, is it not?

Mary: Tom has been in such a state about it! You will do all you can to help him, won’t you?

I thought I’d mention this since everyone seems to be under the impression that Sidney sacrificing himself for Tom now is a sign of the growth of character Charlotte inspired in him. But it actually isn’t.

Both Tom and Mary make it very clear early on that they relay on Sidney’s help. He’s sort of the third member of their marriage (they do have a painting of him in their entryway) who is there to ensure Tom’s ass is saved from the fire of his own making. And both Tom and Mary are complacent in this.

Sidney choosing to marry Mrs. Campion over Charlotte isn’t a new development in his dedication to his family. It is the end result of years of emotional blackmail and dependency Tom has dished out, and Mary has, most likely unconsciously, supported.

And all of that spells disaster for Sidney who is left closing the door to the coach that will take the love of his life away from him:

I know we are all commiserating with Charlotte over what happened. But I think we should spare Sidney a thought as well. He is ruining his life, his integrity and his happiness for someone who will most likely waste his sacrifice in a matter of months. Add to that Eliza’s behavior at the wedding and it’s pretty safe to say Sidney will pay for the money he will give Tom in every which way possible.

The only glimmer of light in all this unbearable darkness is that Lord Babington (he still doesn’t have a first name … :( ) and Esther are now married. Their wedding is actually very much a visual representation of Austen type country weddings, down to everyone smiling and throwing petals at them:

However even in their case, there are still clouds on the horizon since Esther was pretty clear about not being in love with her husband. She took Lady D’s advice that “ being loved is better than loving: and season 2 will show us if that is enough for her or indeed her husband.

Unfortunately, our two protagonists weren’t as lucky as Lord and Lady Babington. The road ahead for them is hard and filled with angst. There’s bound to be a lot of darkness before the dawn. However, do not despair and listen to the only voice that matters:

Lady Denham: Well, Miss Heywood? You’re still proclaiming your independence? Or is it that none of our young men have taken your fancy? I’ll wager we’ll see you walk down the aisle very soon. What do you say, Mr. Parker?

My fictional mummy is never wrong!

#sanditon #sanditon 2019 #sanditon finale #sidlotte #sidney x charlotte #charlotte x sidney #sidney parker #charlotte heywood #my meta

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wordywarriorwrites · 5 years ago

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Chapter 15: Imperfect Union

Masterlist: The Boss of Brooklyn A03 Story Link Author: @wordywarriorwrites Summary: When it comes to being The Boss, James Buchanan “JB” Barnes rules with an iron fist. For him, there’s no room for sentiment, and certainly no time for distraction, even if it is in the form of an old flame. Steve Rogers had bowed out of the life a long time ago, but a twist of fate brings him right back into the fold, and face-to-face with a man he once loved. When a game of cat and mouse turns into a matter of life and death, both will be forced to decide whether they’ll be loyal to the business, or faithful to each other. A/N: Bucky Barnes Mob Boss AU. Stucky. For: @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan Star’s Multi-Fandom Follower Celebration with the prompt, “Why did you do it?” & @sherrybaby14 Sherry’s Fall Into You Challenge with the prompt, “Show me. Prove that you can handle me.” Warnings: Language, violence, drug use, alcohol, smoking, explicit sexual content, illegal activities. *Re-blogs are welcome. Plagiarism isn’t. *

Miles of pink sand beaches, palm trees, and the stunning blue-green waters of the Atlantic. Opulent accommodations, accompanied by lavish surroundings, and meticulous Five Diamond service.

There was a lot they needed to accomplish, but they’d all put the business on the back burner because the meet on the South Shore was about more than just settling accounts and signing bottom lines; it was also about mending fences, giving Nick Fury a proper sendoff, and ensuring the torch was passed into safe, capable hands.

Dinner had been set up in one of the resort’s waterfront event rooms, and it would’ve been a stilted affair had everyone not partaken in the generous platters of fresh seafood and imbibed nearly a dozen bottles of Mitcher’s Bourbon Whiskey and Screaming Eagle Sauvignon Blanc.

Wanda, Natasha, and Carol got tipsy, giggled, and gabbed like long-lost pals. Fury, Scott, and Rhodey definitely got drunk, and they somehow persuaded Thor, Clint, and Tony, who were all plastered, to join them for a game of high-stakes poker. To an outsider, it looked like they were a group of friends just blowing off some steam, but in actuality, they were all trying to distract themselves and find their bearings.

Bucky maintained his composure throughout the evening and Steve was just as civil. Though nobody dared to point out the elephant in the room, they were all very well aware that the two of them were not exactly copacetic, and needed to be given a wide berth. Steve chose to occupy himself by making the rounds and chit-chatting. Bucky, on the other hand, opted to hide out on the balcony, and he’d just decided to call it a night when Natasha stepped outside and joined him.

She handed him a fresh drink and gently nudged his shoulder, “You okay?”

Bucky took a sip and shrugged, “Why do you ask?”

“Because you seem worried. And you’ve been eye-balling Steve for the past two hours.”

“I’ve got a lot on my mind,” he countered. “And I’m watching everyone.”

“How about you cut the bullshit and tell me what’s really bothering you?”

He shook his head, “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” she shot back.

Bucky turned away from the room and stared out at the view, but the sounds and sights of the waves brought him no comfort this time. If anything, his mind churned even harder than the waters of the ocean, and he wasn’t sure how to explain what he was thinking, let alone how he was feeling.

Steve had only returned to Brooklyn to do a job. He’d been set up, betrayed, and nearly killed, but still, he stayed, and he’d remained loyal. He’d brought in the traitors; handed over Fury’s business and crew; gave the Families more than enough intel to set them up for several decades to come. He’d struggled and fought tooth-and-nail for months to put things right and make a clean break.

Bucky could’ve pulled rank, put his foot down, and given Steve’s seat to Natasha, but he didn’t. He knew being put in charge of the West Indies wasn’t what Steve wanted, but instead of giving him his well-earned freedom, Bucky had taken it away, and he didn’t do it because it was just good business, or because he wanted to make the transition more palatable.

He did it because he wanted Steve to stay, and it was easier and less messy to force his hand than to ask him to stick around. He wanted him to stay because whether Steve liked it or not, this was where he was meant to be, and this was what he’d been groomed to do since before he could walk.

Bucky wanted Steve to stay, because even with all the enmity between them, even after everything they’d done to each other, there was still nobody else in the world he trusted more than him.

He wanted him to stay because he’d already let Steve go once, and he’d regretted it. He wanted him to stay because despite what Steve had told him, it had meant something, and Bucky hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since the moment he’d fled Jamaica.

He wanted him to stay because what Maria said before Natasha put her down got under his fucking skin. He wanted him to stay, because no other man had ever fit so well in his life, or would ever look so right in his bed, and Bucky just couldn’t let it go…

But he couldn’t admit to any of it. Bucky couldn’t say any of it aloud, because that would make it too real, and he couldn’t allow himself to be honest or vulnerable or display anything that resembled human frailty. They’d reasserted control, but their grasp over both Brooklyn and their new real estate was still tenuous, and he needed to keep his authority, dignity, and backbone intact.

“Do you love him?”

He snorted, “Love is one vice I can’t afford to indulge in.”

Natasha frowned, “That’s not an answer.”

“Well, that’s the answer you’ve been given,” Bucky retorted before he polished off his drink. “And on that note, I’m going to bed.”

On his way out, Bucky politely bid everyone goodnight, and then made his way to the elevator. It arrived promptly, and after he stepped inside, he selected the top floor. The doors had nearly closed, but someone shot out a hand and halted them. When Scott’s face appeared, Bucky stepped aside to make room for him, along with Steve and Rhodey, who followed quickly behind.

“I told you that you shouldn’t have dealt him in,” Rhodey groused.

“A Royal fuckin’ Flush on the first hand,” Scott groaned in defeat. “How’s that even possible?”

Steve grinned and clapped them both on the back, “You can pay up in the morning.”

The three of them busted each other’s balls for several floors, and because Bucky’s suite was at the top of the high-rise, he got to be a spectator to all their antics. There were also several stops along the way, and one of the passengers kept readjusting his luggage until it fell right on top of his foot. The owner of the baggage didn’t even apologize, and Bucky was about to go off when he realized the person who had scuffed the toe of his Salvatore Ferragamo was too busy gawking at Steve to even realize what had happened.

Slapdash vacation ensemble of flip-flops, board-shorts, and a white t-shirt. A toned body, sharp jaw, and sandy-brown hair. He blushed and looked positively besotted, but all that doe-eyed innocence was counterbalanced with a flash of a sly smirk and the reveal of a tongue ring when he talked.

The elevator signaled it had arrived at the fifteenth floor, which was where Scott and Rhodey disembarked. If they said anything to him before they departed, Bucky didn’t hear it, as soon as it was just him, Steve, and the dude with the bad manners, the haphazard flirtation began.

It was way too much and far too obvious, which meant he wasn’t a pro, and the way he tried to subtly slip Steve his phone number suggested he was just a horny guy looking to get laid. Steve didn’t engage, but he didn’t exactly shut him down hard, either. Though his tone suggested he was very flattered, he was tactful, and even somewhat contrite when he said he wasn’t interested. To his credit, the guy took the rejection like a champ, and didn’t press the issue further.

Bucky knew he had no right whatsoever to be invidious of “my-name-is-Chad-and-my-room-is-1801-if-you-change-your-mind.” But he couldn’t deny that he really wanted to kick the guy’s teeth in, and he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t relieved that Steve didn’t change his mind decide to go with him.

He couldn’t recollect how many men had propositioned him in the past few months. He couldn’t remember their voices, their faces, or what they said to him. Bucky also couldn’t recall how many times he’d woken up alone, sober and extremely frustrated, because as much as he wanted to fuck Steve out of his system, he hadn’t been able to get it up for anyone else in months.

The automated voice chimed, “Floor Twenty,” and the doors parted. Steve got out and turned right. Bucky was supposed to go left, but he didn’t. Instead, he pursued Steve all the way to the end of the hall and right up to his door. The lock beeped and Steve reached for the handle, but Bucky got to it first. Even though he hadn’t been invited, and knew his presence was entirely unwelcome, he entered Steve’s room, and turned on the light.

As soon as Steve stepped over the threshold and the door clicked shut, Bucky turned around, grabbed him by the back of the neck, and slanted his mouth down hard over his.

None-too-gentle, deep, and possessive – it was a kiss that contradicted his words, shot his best intentions to hell, and betrayed his so-called indifference. It was a lip-lock that produced an instantaneous erection, which proved he wasn’t impotent, but also verified there was only one man he could and always would get hard for.

Bucky growled, pinned Steve up against the door, and bit down hard on his neck. Steve chuckled and Bucky knew – he knew that Steve knew was jealous – and he didn’t care. He just reached for his belt and yanked it open. As soon as the zipper was lowered and his boxers were pushed past his hips, Steve brought his hand to his mouth, and dragged his tongue over his palm and fingers. The hot, spit-slicked grasp around his dick made Bucky’s eyes roll back, and as the pressure increased, so did Steve’s grip.

It was all hot and frantic, but any thoughts of trying to reciprocate flew out of his head the moment Steve started to use both hands. He cupped and fondled with his left and maintained a steady pace with the right. He swiped the pad of his thumb repeatedly over the tip until Bucky was nice and slippery, and the sound of Steve working him over was just as filthy as it was erotic.

“Is this the real reason I’m here?” he asked with a pointed squeeze. “Is this what you want me for?”

When Bucky didn’t answer right away, Steve jerked him harder, and picked up the pace.

“I gave you everything you wanted, but that wasn’t enough, was it? You want me under your thumb. You want me to follow your orders. You want me to call you Boss, don’t you?”

He moaned against his throat, “I want… Fuck, Steve, I want…”

“What? What do you want?” he demanded lecherously. “You want to fuck me into obedience? Screw me into submission? Is that what you want, JB? Do you just want a hole to stick your prick into, or do you actually want me?”

“Don’t stop,” Bucky begged as he thrust his hips. “Fuck, whatever you do, don’t stop.”

“Say you want me. Say it and mean it,” Steve breathed into his ear. “Just say it, and I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that I can handle it – that I can handle you – and whatever else that gets thrown at us. Say it, and I just might let you come someplace else other than in your pants.”

Bucky should’ve been a man and owned up to what he felt, but he didn’t. At the same time Steve ripped the orgasm from his body, the word “No!” was also roughly torn out of his throat, and there was absolutely no way to take it back.

He knew he deserved it when Steve released him harshly and shoved him away. Bucky also knew Steve was more than justified in his actions when he spat in his face and wiped his cum-stained hands off on the sleeves of his suit jacket.

“I’m not some fuck-toy for you to play around with,” he snarled as he threw the door open wide.

Bucky pulled up his pants and met Steve’s rage-filled eyes, “I can’t. We can’t and I’m--”

“Just shut the fuck up,” Steve interjected coldly. “And get the fuck out.”

Chapter 16: Exsanguinate

Everything: @jennmurawski13 @nerdy-bookworm-1998

Steve Rogers: @patzammit @hearttoearth The Boss of Brooklyn: @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @captain-rogers-beard

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shelby-love · 5 years ago

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♔ MY NAVIGATION ♔

0.5 TYPES OF REQUESTS I WRITE:

One-shots (1k words or more)

Drabbles (below 1k words)

Headcanons (bullet point fics)

Blurbs (below 500 words)

Imagines (gif + a little blurb, around 500 words)

1.0 RULES:

Request via ask.

Always include what type of request you want me to write.

Specify because specification is very important as it helps me make your request as pleasing as possible, but try not to be too specific as I like the element of surprise.

If you want me to write something from my prompt list (click here): include the name of said character, category of the prompt and the prompt’s respective number (e.g. Jay Halstead, fluff 7).

1.1 Note: If you don't include what type of request it is that you want me to cook up, I will choose the type myself so don't come at me if you wanted a 2K worded piece of work and instead got an imagine with 200 words!

1.2 Note: Mixing the prompt with a plot line of your own is allowed, just make sure to follow the rules (1-3).

1.5 THINGS TO KEEP IN MIND:

Unless asked for, I will be writing with the Female!reader in mind (I like to exclude any gender relation and make it so that both genders could read and enjoy).

I respond to asks when the request has been qued to post and released on Ao3.

The maximum number of request you can send is 2. I know there is an option to send them in anonymously, but I really hope you will stick to this rule. Give others a chance to submit their wishes, and don’t make the line too big with by mass requesting (I close requests after I get around 30 requests).

Requests sent during seasons I have not watched or for characters that have yet to make an appearance in the show will not be written (exceptions exist).

I write one-shots but not a whole series unless I can see/want a continuation.

Themed requests (Christmas, Valentine's Day, New Year etc.) can be only sent during that time. I don’t accept Christmas requests during the month of May. The same goes for the rest.

I have every right to delete every request that does not fit within the rules stated above, or I feel uncomfortable writing. Also, it’s important to note that I don’t have inspiration to write every request that’s sent. It’s normal to not have inspiration, and because I prefer quality to quantity, if I see that I don’t have inspiration for a request then I will not write it.

Requests will be deleted if sent while my request box is closed. I won’t answer them as I feel like there is no need. On almost every informative post (+my bio, and if you’re on PC my theme under ‘blog status’) it will say whether the request box is closed or not.

English is not my first language but without digging myself my own grave this early on I want to say that I'm proud of how much I know, given that I never speak English unless in school.

Be nice because only constructive criticism is allowed. If you spot a grammatical error or a paragraph/sentence/word etc. that doesn't make sense, let me know. But be nice!

2.0 THINGS I DON’T WRITE:

LGBTQ+ topics/relationships (because I feel like I wouldn’t do a good job)

Real people, send only requests for characters in my writing list

Ships or OC, send only reader inserts

NSFW (mature content stories)

Noncon

Dark!fics

Romanticized mental illnesses

S*icide scenes

R*pe scenes

Racism/slurs

2.1 Note: P*dophilia, r*pe, s*icide might be mentioned in my Chicago P.D, Fire, Med shots (or other), but I will never explicitly write about those subjects or write about anything that is about/centered around them.

2.2 Note: Explicitly written smut is a no, I will not write that. Try to refrain from requesting steamy scenes too, as I will only put them in myself were I to deem it necessary for the WIP.

2.5 THINGS I DO WRITE:

Angst

Fluff/ WAFF

Fusion/ Crossover

Daughter/Wife/Sister!Reader

Here is me trying to explain what kind of requests I also take [x]

2.6 Note: It’s hard to list but to make it easier for you guys, I will write about almost anything as long as it’s not on my 2.0 bullet.

3.0 POSTING SCHEDULE:

Posts are usually posted between 01:00 A.M. and 05:00 A.M. CET (Central European Time).

Check schedule to see what's been qued to post.

3.1 Note: This account is NOT my work place. Everything here is written when I have time and I feel like writing. Requests that I find more interesting will most likely be written and qued to post sooner. I advise you to follow my blog, check regularly and sit tight until you see that it's qued. You can always check my navigation page and click on 'schedule'. Or simply click here.

3.2 Note: I am not a doctor nor a firefighter nor a policeman. I research whatever I can before I start writing and sometimes that takes hours. Nothing is 100% accurate (especially for events set in Chicago Med) although I hope it is.

3.5 WRITING LIST:

3.6 Note: Requests are currently OPEN for all fandoms!!!

3.7 Note: Your requests do not have to be strictly romantic (Sibling!Reader or other are also (obviously) allowed).

---More shows and characters will be added through time

✏ TV SHOWS (alphabetical order)

9-1-1 (✓)

Evan Buckley

Eddie Diaz

Bobby Nash

Howard "Chimney" Han

BRIDGERTON (✓)

Simon Basset

Anthony Bridgerton

Benedict Bridgerton

Colin Bridgerton

Prince Friedrich

CHICAGO FIRE (S01-S06)

Kelly Severide

Matt Casey

Peter Mills

Jimmy Borelli

Christopher Herrmann

Brian “Otis” Zvonecek

Joe Cruz

CHICAGO PD (S01-SO2)

Antonio Dawson

Adam Ruzek

Kevin Atwater

Jay Halstead

Hank Voight

Alvin Olinsky

CHICAGO MED (✓)

Connor Rhodes

Will Halstead

Ethan Choi

Noah Sexton

Crockett Marcel

James Lanik

DYNASTY (S01-S02)

Blake Carrington

Jeff Colby

Liam Ridley

Michael Culhane

ELITE (✓)

Guzmán Nunier Osuna

Samuel García Domínguez

Christian Varela Expósito

Leopoldo Benavent Villada (Polo)

PEAKY BLINDERS (✓)

Thomas Shelby

Arthur Shelby

John Shelby

Finn Shelby

Ada Shelby

Polly Gray

Alfie Solomons

Michael Gray (I currently cannot stand this dude)

TEEN WOLF (✓)

Scott Mcall

Stiles Stilinski

Isaac Lahey

Liam Dunbar

Derek Hale

THE ORIGINALS (✓)

Klaus Mikaelson

Elijah Mikaelson

Kol Mikaelson

Finn Mikaelson

Marcel Gerard

Rebekah Mikaelson

THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY (✓)

Number Five

Diego Hargreeves

Luther Hargreeves

Klaus Hargreeves

Ben Hargreeves

THE VAMPIRE DIARIES (✓)

Stefan Salvatore

Damon Salvatore (hate him)

Alaric Saltzman

Lorenzo St. John

Tyler Lockwood

Matt Donovan

Jeremy Gilbert

Katherine Pierce

Elena Gilbert (hate her even more)

Caroline Forbes

Bonnie Bennett

THE QUEEN’S GAMBIT (✓)

Benny Watts

Townes

Harry Beltik

THE WITCHER (✓)

Geralt of Rivia

Jaskier

WANDAVISION (✓)

See under ‘Marvel Universe’.

✏ MOVIES

HARRY POTTER

Oliver Wood

Harry Potter

Hermione Granger

Draco Malfoy

Ron Weasley

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Percy Weasley

Bill Weasley

Charlie Weasley

Neville Longbottom

Cedric Diggory

The Marauders era

James Potter

Sirius Black

Peter Pettigrew

Remus Lupin

Severus Snape

MARVEL UNIVERSE

Tony Stark / Iron Man

Bruce Banner / Hulk

Thor

Loki

Steve Rogers / Captain America

Natasha Romanoff

Clint Barton / Hawkeye

Nick Fury

James Rhodes / War Machine / Iron Patriot

Bucky Barnes / Winter Soldier / White Wolf

Sam Wilson / Falcon

Vision

Scott Lang / Ant-Man

T'Challa / Black Panther

Peter Parker / Spider-Man

Stephen Strange

Peter Quill / Star-Lord

Pietro Maximoff

TWILIGHT

Edward Cullen

Carlisle Cullen

Emmett Cullen

Alice Cullen

Jasper Hale

Rosalie Hale

Alec

Benjamin

Jacob Black

Seth Clearwater

Embry Call

EXPENDABLES

Lee Christmas

Barney Ross

Billy The Kid

Smilee

Mars

Thorn

Hale Caesar

Yin Yang

Toll Road

Gunnar Jensen

Booker

#imagine requests #Chicago pd #Chicago med #Chicago fire #Peaky blinders #Breaking bad #Fanfiction #Imagines #Drabbles #Fluff #elite #Netflix elite #elite imagine #elite fanfiction #rules #guidelines #masterlist

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