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johnandrasjaqobis · 5 months ago

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Sooo I did say I needed to write up a summary of Joseph's ending (including screenshots for funsies and to break up the inevitable wall of text)

but of course to do that I need to set some Context (only the relevant parts, I swear) SO my idiot son, fresh off the Nautaloid, negative memories, +1 tadpole, and also somehow eldritch blast ??

(he was a fighter of some sort before, I think, I had been considering paladin for this run but it didn't make a whole lot of sense to have divine magic when you start out with Nothing, so I figured the desperation of that situation is the. perfect opportunity for some outside force to Help.)

and, of course, this will be long so UNDER A CUT IT GOES

He had zero idea what exactly was giving him the powers, but there was so much going on it wasn't really a priority to look into for the first good chunk of plot. Joseph just barreled his way through looking for literally anyone who would give him any fucking answers, and was legitimately kinda being dragged into being a halfway decent person with the party's influence (if there is one constant about this man, he is far easier to manipulate than he'd ever admit). Still used every tadpole they came across because there was the constant feeling of being so much weaker than he should be, and the tadpoles gave a not insignificant edge in combat. Thanks to the weird accidental connection to the zaith'isk, he was very good at it - and for a guy who feels like he's not very good at much of anything anymore, it was a lot.

(he also tried to pass the tadpole stuff off as warlock abilities, with marginal success, it did involve casting shatter centered on himself once and knocking himself out, that's not important)

all that to say when the Emperor offered the astral tadpole, there was some temptation; the main thing that made Joseph keep pushing back was the fact that Lae'zel hated the idea of it. but (and here is where I wave fondly to fully canon events as they pass by) good ol' Empy chose this time to try and press in on the fact that Joseph had already benefited so much from illithid powers. Moreso than he was fully aware, in fact. since the Emperor was technically his patron.

(sometimes you see this absolute feral little asshole of a man who, unfortunately, is a rather important part of your plan, and realize that he can't do shit anymore. so sometimes you gotta sigh heavily and give him a hand. or tentacle, perhaps.)

anyway when it came down to it the DC was 21, Lae'zel was pissed, and lo and behold

fast forward a bit. the Emperor is a bitch, they do not get along, but mostly mutual goals so whatever

and then we get to Baldur's Gate. Joseph has one (1) meeting with his ex, who is incidentally the first person who has actually given any actual answers, and every chance of some kind of redemption arc is immediately thrown out the window

because. yeah, remember that mention of being easy to manipulate? pre-tadpole Joseph wasn't much different in that regard. His loyalty is a character flaw at points, and his loyalty to Gortash was second only to Bhaal himself (and even that divide was being pushed at, which terrified him, obedient son that he was, forgive me father indeed)

he learned why every high ranking person in this dammed cult seemed to know him. Why the Absolute itself seemed to revere him. Why Stillmaker felt so familiar. And he fell right back into the old patterns and the old plan.

proceeded to lose multiple friends for it, too, there's only so long the whole "I'm just staying on his good side to get information" excuse is obviously, how you say, bullshit. Karlach and Wyll both left after they got Gale back from Orin. Shadowheart stuck around a little longer, but eventually having to help kill the little group of Gur after watching a ceremony that killed thousands just tipped things too far.

Joseph went into the finale with like. three friends: Astarion (freshly ascended), Minthara (delighted by the opportunity for power grabs), and Lae'zel (increasingly skeptical and disappointed by her idiot amnesiac boyfriend).

(and god the situation with Lae'zel hurt. Karlach definitely tried to warn her of how badly this was all going to go to shit before leaving. there was a moment with Shadowheart with the very weary "I do think he loves you. I just don't think that it's going to be enough." getting to watch as Joseph just fully clicked with this man he so obviously had history with. like give this girl a break.)

but again, that loyalty, which meant he definitely did get the Orphic hammer because he wasn't about to just turn his back on Lae'zel's whole mission, and also fuck the Emperor actually

however, speaking of the Emperor, that does require a bit of a backtrack because Joseph did have to kill his sister and then also said fuck you dad, it's your dream not mine, etc and was exsanguinated for his troubles. only to be pulled back again by the weird skeleton guy who refused to stop following them around.

See friends, I think there's something...a little extra, in being killed by a god, especially when it was the god who created you to begin with. Bhaal might have aimed a little poorly, only fully destroying the Urge side of things, but the god of murder murdering you holds weight. As does being pulled right back out of death by the now unemployed god of death.

That whole situation might have. Severed some connections. Formed some new ones.

Fast forward again.

Holy shit the brain is big.

but they had the plan, perhaps a little trickier now, but they'd get the brain back under control and split the stones again, Minthara can wield the third, Astarion can help run things with his own newfound powers, Lae'zel can use whatever resources from this plane she needs to go kill Vlaakith, there's a plan

and I mean. we all know how this part goes. Larian I just want to talk.

In a very fitting "dice telling a story" moment, after Gortash fell I rolled three consecutive 2's. (Minthara tried revivify immediately, of course she did, but maybe it was the splitting migraine they were all fighting through or maybe something the brain did, or maybe Bane himself wouldn't allow it, but nothing would take.) Joseph doesn't remember screaming, but by the time Empy yanked them into the prism, his throat was definitely damaged.

Joseph nearly passes out and does end up just staring at the body (because at least Empy was polite enough not to just leave Gortash there, god can you imagine) for. some amount of time.

of course he'd lose this, of course it's the one person who really knew him before, who was still perfectly willing to work with who he was now, who gave him a purpose that was more than just killing literally everyone, who appreciated the skills that came with said killing but appreciated the skills that had nothing to do with it, who Joseph trusted despite literally every bit of common sense

Fuck that, actually.

The Emperor snaps at him that they don't have this kind of time, Joseph snaps right back that they're in the fucking Astral Sea, time passes differently, they've got a moment.

He asks the others for a moment, just go regroup a bit, he'll catch up, and this has happened enough over their travels that they don't hesitate too much before leaving him alone

and then he starts calling for Withers. First just mentally, then out loud, then enough to make him taste a little blood again, because Jergal you fuck I know you can hear me

takes a moment, but. he does show up. just so casually stepping out from behind a rock, good ol' Peepaw, Withers, literally Jergal himself

and also Joseph's fairly recently self-appointed new patron

(he'd had suspicions for a bit, the fact that he and the Emperor had been at such odds recently, especially the fact that he could complete the whole "heist" from the House of Hope with absolutely no consequences, there was a pretty solid feeling. this just confirmed it.)

"Bring him back." "No."

but if warlocks are known for one thing, it's making deals. how invested are you in seeing this Absolute stopped, huh Jergal? In sticking it to the Dead Three? You've already yanked one of their Chosen back, what's one more?

"I could try -- do my godsdammed best -- to stop this thing for good. Just like you want. Or I could use these stones and burn down the fucking world."

and it's a good thing they're in the Astral Sea because the silence is long. but eventually there is. a very reluctant agreement.

after, of course. after the Absolute is destroyed (if you die in the process and it enacts the Grand Design, not much else will matter anyway, if you succumb to the temptation and take control, there's no bargain to be fulfilled).

So. Somehow, in fate's favorite sort of irony, the guy who pulled Joseph off of any sort of path toward redemption ended up being the reason that kind of forced his hand there anyway.

They destroy the brain. Astarion and Minthara are expectedly disappointed, but can kind of appreciate the impossible task that it would have been to control that thing indefinitely. The tadpoles are evaporated (Joseph is left with scarring because you can't tell me that level of change being stripped away so quickly leaves you without a mark). The city is saved.

And Enver Gortash gets to wake up, inexplicably, on the docks and go through seven stages of grief as he realizes what happened to his plan. (The plan got you fucking killed, you absolute dumbass.)

implications beyond that are mmmmmm many and complicated. but. hey, there's always the next plan.

#thanks for coming to my tedtalk because this ended up over 1600 words holy shit #anyway. fucked up guys #is it a happy ending EH #but it sure is an Ending that doesn't feel like permanent ending y'know there is. Potential from here #durgetash #waggy plays bg3 #woe my rambling be upon ye #(sorry for the lack of screenshots at the end there i simply Did Not Have Any that were fitting because well.#this ending believe it or not is not animated by larian studios)

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sandycookie · 10 months ago

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Re: Ravengard & Wyll's Contract 'Choice'

BG3 Spoilers for Act 3 & Wyll's Quest

Everyone's gotta lay off of Wyll!

Now, disclaimer, I did do things out of sequence. I never attended Gortash's coronation because 1. I was fully intent on killing him and 2. Wanted to level up and do a ton of stuff before facing him. I thought it was an obvious trap, so I decided to blow up the Steel Watch and stuff and save him for last. Apparently, Ravengard's supposed to be at the Iron Throne after the coronation, but because I never went to the coronation, my bro was still waiting beside Gortash to appoint him Archduke. This means that Ravengard's just...dead. Like, nothing you can do about it. I tried killing everyone but him and he was still hostile, and when I used Non Lethal on him he just died anyway

(Weirdly though, even though I used non-lethal on Ravengard AS WYLL who said, and I quote: "Father, no! That was no killing blow!" He talked like I just killed Ravengard? Like, no. Everyone else even says it must've been the Absolute or something, which is why he dies even with non lethal. AND YOU WERE THERE, WYLL---

I assume there's no dialog for this approach or that it just bugged out, for some reason. Either way, just really weird and also a bummer. Defo never skipping Gortash's coronation, now that I know he won't immediately kill me and that doing so doesn't mess up Wyll's quest in this way for me)

Case in point, Ravengard? More like DEADgard. Hahaha. Im sorry please don't leave

So Mizora, bonafide bitch, comes into my camp with a contract offer and whatnot. And Wyll's gotta choose between either bringing his Ravengard back to life at the cost of his soul, or letting him stay dead and breaking his contract.

As an aside, I really, REALLY hate that unlike with other companion's story quests, you HAVE to make this choice for him. There's no option where you let HIM make his own choice. Which just really rubs me the wrong way? A large theme of this game so far as been the autonomy over oneself; the freedom of choice, the freedom that one has to pursue the life one wishes to live. Most of the story's about regaining lost autonomy (since having a tadpole in your head really doesn't help with that), and so many antagonists want to strip people of their autonomy. Gortash outright says, in one of his journals, that free will is the enemy of progress, and that in order to progress to peace, that it has to be stripped in order to form a collective (and that's a fine philosophical discussion, but pursuing would make this post x25 longer).

And yes, there is the case of Astarion's personal quest, where there ISN'T an option to let him decide himself if he wants to ascend or not. There is story justification for it, since he does need your help in order to carve the runes, but speaking aside from that, I think in this instance, it's fine. At that moment, Astarion is literally being faced with two choices: 1. Live as a spawn for the rest of his life, susceptible to the sun and forced to live in the shadows, forced to constantly sate his hunger, live as he has for the past miserable 200 years, or 2. Obtain such power that he doesn't have to face the drawbacks of being a vampire, but more importantly, it's the choice that, to him, screams: You won't be hurt. That's a really tempting choice, coupled with 200 years of suffering and torture, and the fear and trauma that has instilled with Astarion. Astarion ascending is a result of his fear of being hurt, but in the process, he hurts thousands. Thus, being given the choice to let him ascend or not becomes either allowing the cycle of trauma to continue (as Cazador was abused by his master, Astarion abused by Cazador, Astarion is just the next vampire master whom will continue the cycle), killing thousands of people, or pushing Astarion to realize that he can be better than Cazador and break the cycle. He even admits that he needed that little push, because he was just too enraptured by power to think of anything but it.

TLDR; Astarion's quest does have legitimate justification as to why there isn't a 'Let him do as he wishes' option, as there is with Shadowheart's quest for example. There is absolutely no reason why you can't just let Wyll make the decision between...reviving his father at the cost of his soul, or letting him remain dead in exchange for his freedom. THIS IS THE ULTIMATE QUESTION OF AUTONOMY, one that the game has made clear, time and time again, that these choices are best made by the individual whom it affects. To be honest, this is a small thing in the larger scheme of things, but it still just really irks me.

Anyway, since I had Wyll's very fate and autonomy in my hands, I ultimately made the decision to have him break free of his contract. Bro deserves better than to be stuck in Avernus for eternity, after all, and if Ravengard is as good as everyone says, this is the choice he'd want Wyll to make as well. Ravengard's already dead, and there's no reason to disturb that for like, what? 10 more years of leadership? I was tempted to let Ravengard revive to help rebuild the city, since like, he's maybe the only noble who actually has the people's best interest at heart, but one man isn't enough to disrupt an entire system. We have revolutions for that. Jokes aside, that was the choice I came to, even if I have the nagging feeling it might not have been what Wyll would've then (but then again, I got approval from him, so maybe not). Also, I do not trust Mizora the Bitch to not do something like 'Okay Wyll, Absolute is gone, your next task is to kill your own father.' I get what they were aiming for with this choice, but for me, it was an easy one to make.

But now, oh boy boy, here we come to what REALLY irked me.

WHY IS EVERYONE SAYING WYLL SACRIFICED HIS OWN FATHER???????!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Firstly, there was no sacrifice at play. Like, AT ALL. Ravengard was already dead, at the gates of the City of Judgment! If anything, choosing to bring him back would be a sacrifice: you'd be sacrificing Ravengard's retirement (bc if he's as good as everyone says, he'd probably be chilling in heaven). Let the man sip pina coladas for eternity or something.

So, literally, the only sacrifice here, is Wyll sacrificing his soul to hell for an eternity to bring his father back. Wyll breaking his contract doesn't sacrifice shit. It's not going to leave him guiltless; I've no doubt that Wyll would feel guilt that he didn't save his father, but ultimately, it's like saying that letting people stay dead is a sacrifice and morally reprehensible, all because you didn't want to go to a devil and doom your soul for eternity. That doesn't logic, dude.

It's likely that this might be reaction dialog to a different choice you could've made with Wyll if you've seen Gortash's coronation, which, for the writer's sake, I hope is the case. But it's still really, really frustrating. Stop guilt-tripping Wyll like this!

Ultimately, it just felt really clunky. The Blade of Frontiers quest isn't marked completed yet, so there may yet be a chance for the writing to eek out and make me eat my words, or at least overlook it. But whatever that was, I really, really hope they can either rewrite it, or learn from it and not repeat the same mistake.

Anyways, there's an actual Essay that I have to turn in, so I'ma go do that. Thanks for reading, hope you've had a good day, and remember to stay hydrated.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #wyll ravengard #wyll bg3 #bg3 wyll #blade of frontiers #duke ravengard #mizora bg3 #this game has consumed every precious bit of free time I have #sorry to my fic

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wordsandrobots · 2 months ago

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I have of late been thinking about my dislike for the idea that Optimus Prime and Megatron were friends prior to the whole 'thousands of years of unending war' thing.

You see, there is this new Transformers animated film that's just been released, Transformers One, predicated on this very concept. Semi-relatedly, the most recent cartoon to be released under the Transformers umbrella proposes a world where the Autobots and Decepticons settled their differences and Megatron now acts broadly on the side of Good, to the extent of having human friends. I don't like that either.

And to a very large degree, my opinion is completely irrelevant. These are stories aimed at children, to sell toys, and I am closer to 40 than I am to 30. I'm not the intended audience. To a large degree, I've never managed to actually be the intended audience for Transformers media, having fallen awkwardly into the gap between the original 'Generation 1' merchandising push and the 90s iteration in Beast Wars. I have always been a fan of Transformers in an eclectic, slightly disconnected sense, gathering bits and pieces together as and when I've come across them.

My idea of what Optimus Prime and Megatron are like comes from Ladybird Books, half the very first Marvel Comics miniseries, and The Transformers: The Movie. I hold Side Burn from Transformers: Robots in Disguise (2001) up as a favourite piece of design. My first proper official Transformers toy was Air Hammer (who is awesome). Yes, I've been terribly invested in different parts of the fiction and I have my preferences, but my nostalgia buttons for this are permanently, delightfully borked.

Why would modern Transformers fiction cater to me? Why should it? Hell, no, let me say outright it shouldn't. That would be ridiculous. Thus, while I can certainly sit down and explain my feelings on this particular subject -- that Optimus and Megatron originate as characters defined entirely by enmity and oppositional philosophies, that I am deeply uncomfortable with ejecting the political content from fictional conflicts in order to make them more conventionally 'tragic' or 'complex', that I think James Roberts inadvertently did permanent damage to the franchise's central concepts when he made Megatron a conflation of Marx and Stalin in the course of trying to rescue the character from a hilariously botched 'Origin' mini-series, that telling the 'they were once friends' story with a white man voicing Optimus and a black man voicing Megatron looks *fucking awful* -- is there any point doing so?

Never forget that you are arguing about a children's toy was the maxim on the Transformers forums I frequented in the 2000s and early 2010s. I took that advice to heart. I try only to have long involved discussions about the nuances of the franchise with level-headed friends who can separate their preferences from the material realities and thus moderate their reactions with perspective. I also try not take up my keyboard to bash out angry tirades that I am not being catered to by cartoons.

But there's the rub. There's the thing that sticks in my head and leads me to type this post out. In spite of the idiosyncratic reality, I *am* being catered to by this stuff in theory. For the past decade, Transformers as a franchise has been locked into a constant reiteration of previous versions of itself. Transformers One is predicated on fixing the origin of The Transformers around Optimus, Megatron and Bumblebee (and Elita, because you gotta have a singular girl tagging along). The recognisable faces of the brand since 1984 (and Elita). The same characters that have been re-released, reduxed, redone and rewritten since the first update with 1992's Generation 2 (and Elita).

It's branding. It's market-tested iconography. It's commodification working as it always does. It's also absolutely nuts when you step back and realise the underlying strategy of Transformers has gone from "we will sell you all the toys by inventing All The Characters and giving every single one backstories and plot-lines that ensure Sprocket is somehow somebody's favourite" to "we will sell you fifteen versions of the same four characters over and over again."

I assume that calculation makes sense somewhere in the structure of Hasbro's corporate edifice. That it's cost-effective and feeds their goals of endless growth. As James Stephanie Sterling (arch excoriater of the games industry and thank God for them) has been pointing out quite a lot this recently, the concept of perpetually greater profits year on year is a dangerous, stupid delusion that destroys industries from all sides. But I am sure the people who buy into it think they know what they're doing and that their logic does indeed result in squeezing more money from same old cash-cow.

Part of that is the calculated targetting of nostalgia. Transformers One is positioned as a prequel, not to any other story in particular, but to an 'evergreen' version of the Transformers franchise. It's at once its own, unique thing and the prequel to that cartoon 'you' remember and loved from the 80s. Why not bring the whole family to relive 'your' childhood? Or hoover up the collectables that have been shipped to ranks of Transformers YouTubers so they can excitedly get fellow enthusiasts to spend more money on plastic models nobody has room for?

[They are selling non-transforming model kits for this movie, because the designs are so streamlined as to prevent easy realisation as transforming toys. The part of me that hates Action Masters with every fibre of my being doesn't know whether to laugh or weep that big name collectors are embracing these damn things. The whole flipping point of this toy-line is meant to be 'thing turns into other thing'! Primus wept, what is wrong with you people?!]

[Ahem.]

The assumption, fundamental to this and the other big toy franchises that have persisted from the 80s and 90s, is that because 'you' like X, you will continue to buy N different variations of X ad-infinitum. That's why it's still Generation 1 Optimus, Megatron and Bumblebee (and Elita) forty years later and following dozens of attempts to diversify the roster. Nostalgia sells, regardless of how well it actually accords with the thing that 'you' liked while in the original demographic for children's toys.

As a slight aside, I have also been unreasonably vexed this week by discovering Hasbro has produced a box-set of collectable action figures based on Star Wars novel The Last Command which features dark Jedi clone Joruus C'baoth wielding a red lightsaber. Not only does he not at any time pick up a lightsaber in the book, it would be completely contra to his personality for it to be one associated with the evil Sith. Joruus suffers under the delusion he is rebuilding the good and noble Jedi Order right to the very end, despite falling headlong into the Dark Side of the Force. That's the entire *point*. And that point is entirely irrelevant to the people making the box-set, even as they supposedly target people who like The Last Command, because commodified nostalgia rarely concerns itself with the specifics of the object being evoked. A hazy outline is enough.

Elizabeth Sandifer wrote in a recent essay regarding particular forms of bad Doctor Who and bad Doctor Who spin-offs that they "use my unequivocal love of this stupid fucking show against me." She identifies a distinction between instalments in the series that are crap through the normal reasons things are crap -- bad concept, bad script, bad production -- and those that are produced purely on the grounds that they are 'more Doctor Who'. I think that zeroes in on the problem here. 'More Transformers', 'More Star Wars', 'More Marvel', 'More sci-fi or fantasy intellectual property from which can be squeezed a seemingly endless deluge of products' has become the dominant mode of these long-running franchises. And written into this mode at a fundamental level is this idea that 'you', the hypothetical fan who cares deeply about something that struck a chord with them as children, will simply keep buying the same thing over and over again.

Lego have jut released an 'Ultimate Collector' set depicting Jabba the Hutt's sail barge from Return of the Jedi. It retails for £429.99. I have no earthly idea how anyone can make that kind of outlay on a toy, and I say this as someone who probably could afford to, if I prioritised buying a toy over financing house repairs and, you know, food. I *own* thousands of pounds worth of Lego, because I have been hoarding it piece by piece since I was *six*, one set and one charity shop at a time. If I wanted to build Jabba the Hutt's sail barge, I would consider it an interesting challenge. But to simply buy it, to put down half a grand on this huge set just because it comes from my second favourite Star Wars film?

It offends me an already massively-profitable corporation thinks I would do that. Because in theory, I am in the target demographic here. I am the 'you' in my examples above, I am the right age, more or less, with the right interests and the right level of disposable income. I am the mark all this is aimed at.

I am the person who is supposed to be thrilled by the idea of the 'untold story' of where the Decepticons and Autobots came from, of the secret history of Megatron and Optimus Prime.

Never mind that story was told in the first couple of pages of the original Marvel comics, as a fascistic uprising from within Cybertron society resisted by a peace-desiring majority. Never mind the 1984 cartoon created its own history of sectarian strife between sentient robots built for different purposes by sinister corporate overlords. Never mind that it's just forcing another set of familiar signifiers through the same origin story mill that has given us a long litany of unloved prequels off the back of George Lucas getting too big and too rich for any editor to constrain.

I don't imagine what I have said so far to be a novel observation. It's just capitalism doing what it does, squandering potential in the pursuit of ever-greater profit. Nor do I deny the reciprocal part fandom plays in creative impoverishment. The hysterical backlash from certain quarters to The Last Jedi -- a film that goes out of its way to say Star Wars is still alive with new possibilities and that the returning heroes are strong in all the ways they were at the end of the original trilogy -- stands testament to what ossified taste does to a person's sense of proportion, just as Rise of Skywalker stands testament to what happens when you indulge such people.

Above all, I am not claiming to be immune to the forces behind the nostalgia glut. I'm writing this looking at my display cabinets which have shelves devoted to Transformers, Bionicle (specifically these models), Batman, Doctor Who, Star Wars and Fullmetal Alchemist, and Transformers again. I bought Missing Link Convoy entirely to have a version of Optimus Prime I could hold in my hand that evoked the books aimed at primary school children from which I first learned who this character was (resulting emotions: mixed). My fandom has *always* involved collecting physical objects and as much as I'd stand by the claim hunting down decades-old toys to curate a collection informed by your personal experiences and taste is superior to gorging on an endless stream of new products, it's still chasing commodities. As someone who has also always prioritised creative fandom (fan-art, fan-fiction, building, modelling, speculating, imagining), I'm not seriously going to place one version of Having The Thing over the other on an ethical level. Equally, I see no particular mark of dishonour in taking joy from holding an object that has some meaning to you, however trivial or mass-marketed it may be.

No, what I resent is seeing marketing for a 'brand new' iteration of Transformers that is on some level still aimed at people like me, people my age, people who still find joy in the things they did as children. The calculated insult in multiple-hundred-pound Lego sets designed exclusively for 'adult collectors'. The mendacious indifference inherent to 'exclusive' toys that purport to be physical realisations of dearly-held fictions while being demonstrably ignorant of the source. The endless 'Easter eggs' and 'love letters' that we are expected to clap along to like performing seals.

The idea I should uncritically enjoy the same things I did when I was ten, in the same way, and that this should be a skeleton key to my bank account.

One of the very first things I learned about Generation 1 Optimus and Megatron, beyond the fact that they had always been mortal enemies, was that they died. Their story came to an end and new characters took their places. Ultra Magnus and Galvatron. Rodimus Prime. Fortress Maximus and Scorponok. Optimus Primal and an ersatz new 'Megatron'. Successors. Legacies. The full-throated boast that there are futures past the original tale.

And sure, the original characters have been refracted through different relaunches, alternate universes and reincarnations. It is unreasonable to claim there has ever been a version of Transformers that truly lacked Optimus and Megatron. But there is a difference between reinvented iconography and collapsing every version into 'evergreen' amalgamations, all development sheered off so they will continue to appeal to an old market alongside new generations of kids. Actually, putting it that way is giving Hasbro too much credit when the truth is they have expended massively more effort in courting middle-aged fans with toys aiming to recreate the exact look a character had in the 1984 cartoon (impossible) and bastardised versions of post-G1 toys (look what they did to my boy). They are very much doing the thing I said they shouldn't be.

So yes. I really don't like the idea Optimus and Megatron started out as friends before the war. But the more I think about it, the more I realise that is less to do with them being crammed into a thoughtless 'Professor X and Magneto' template than it is with the fact it is still Optimus and Megatron, forty years on from their debut -- and I'm expected to be happy about that.

#grumping #more rambling #transformers #star wars #collecting #marketing #fandom

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kharmii · 5 months ago

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I just saw a post for the upcoming election you americans have and while they tried to promote to vote for Biden they (at least to me) promoted Trump even more by pointing out all the things wrong with this country right now caused by Biden.

I'm not american but Biden is a walkin senile laughing stock of the world. I doubt there is anyone taking him seriously.

I always was sceptical of Trump, thinking that it was odd for him to go for president. But after observing one presidency of Trump AND one of Biden... I know that the elections are going to be heated with lots of whining and bitching AND most likely some weird stuff going on in the background.

I feel things in the world need to change. 100 years ago the far right has been dangerous... nowadays it's the far left with an even more disgusting danger. You gotta be blind if you don't see it.

I just want this to be done and over with... and have fairly "normal" politics. Not stuff that belongs in an asylum being a daily occurence in modern day politics

Amazingly, Trump used to be a smug New York Democrat. Black people loved him. There are pictures all over of Trump shaking hands with civil rights leaders, and the name 'Trump' is thrown out in a lot of rap songs. He was the host of a popular game show called The Apprentice. That's why I thought he was a joke candidate when he ran in the Republican primaries during the 2012 election against Barrack Obama.

I was extra surprised when he ran again in 2016 and won the primaries. A lot of people were into him, but I voted for Ted Cruz still thinking Trump was a joke candidate. Ted Cruz wouldn't have won though. The guy has no charisma and even sounds annoying to some people. He has a used car salesman look. Anyway, when Trump won the primaries, the fix was in. The media kept putting out their usual fake polls saying that he had no chance against Hillary Clinton, an actual nasty character.

When Trump won, there was more hate in the media than I'd ever seen against a single person in my life. He wasn't supposed to win. We were given orders via constant media propaganda to vote Clinton and 'make history again' with a first woman president. Trump might have once been a Democrat, but he wasn't one of their guys. He wasn't a career politician who could be bought by the lobbyists. He wasn't perfect, but one of the first things I remember him doing was rewriting the income tax code so that working class people got a huge boost for married filing jointly or for the child tax credit.

He also pushed us toward greater energy independence by approving more drilling permits and pipelines. Gas was under or around $2/gallon. Food was cheap. Everybody's 401K was increasing. Interest rates were low for a loan. Everything was so good that all the people opposing him could do was call him racist and stir up the race and gender hustlers. There was a lot of rioting, and they are openly admitting that if Trump wins the 2024 election, a lot of people will die, and there will be lots more looting and rioting.

Trump should have won the 2020 election, but the media and government used the fake Covid scare to steal the election through the mail or through rigged voter machines that would show Trump in the lead until 3AM when suddenly Biden would instantaneously in a minute gain tens of thousands of votes. There was no accountability with the paper votes, and most people figure a lot of fake ones were thrown in. Biden somehow got more votes than Obama during his first term when people were excited about 'hope and change and the first black president'. (We got change alright, but it was all bad, like how his administration wrecked our health care). People were that excited about Biden. Nobody knows anybody who was excited about voting for Biden, but it must have been true.

About the time they should have been pushing for some meaningful audits in the mail in voting system and protesting Biden's suspicious 'win', the Powers that Be manufactured the January 6th 'insurrection' where Republican protestors who were heavily seeded with FBI agents posing as protestors were deliberately let into the capitol to mill about and basically do nothing. A woman named Ashli Babbitt was shot in the chest for no reason, but the cop was able to get away with it for being a black person shooting a white person. Since it was obviously shenanigans, it took years for the surveillance footage of the capital 'riot' to be released to the public so people could see it was nothing like they described.

That's where we are in the US. I'm not sure it will do any good to vote, but I'll get out and do my civic duty on the second Tuesday of November. Again, they'll say that 'voting for Trump is going to hurt gay people and Muslims and (insert victim class group)', but realistically, cheap cost of living is good for everybody.

#american politics #donald trump #useful idiots #rioting #vote rigging #leftist culture #cost of living

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woodlandscab1n · 5 months ago

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Like a couple weeks ago I discovered a headcanon I had of Leon is literally just him having OCD and I laughed my ass off so now get fully inserted into my ships idiot.

Anyways, Lethan would be the funniest about it, Ethan would be so confused with this man in their first days of living together and Leon might be doing certain stuff like making sure all doors are closed, making sure everything is readily available, touching certain stuff, as well as checking every room twice or thrice, making sure nothing is missing while he goes around the house getting ready in his morning/before his day starts rutine that's just so he knows this day is going to go well or at least with as less ppl hurt as possible. When Ethan points it out one morning, feel like he would be like, "what? just somethin i do to keep my mind calm" and Ethan's response would just be "erm. okay. sure... whatever 🤨".

I think Ethan might just observe but not really be annoyed about it. Leon already told him why he does it, which is to keem himself calm and Ethan doesn't see that being particularly wrong, even if sometimes it's kinda "weird". Man does what he gotta do, he guesses, plus kinda it's fun watching him pretty much do laps around the house.

It's until Leon looks visibly upset to do it, stressed, or needs to hurry up somewhere but he just needs to check, he has to do those things that Ethan brings it up again, saying that he doesn't need to do all that. I feel like that might really get to Leon, he's been feeling like the weight of the whole world is in his shoulders, like everything he does or not do is a death sentence for someone else, everything that's not carefully planned or done so he'd not respond well, not angrily but just, clearly this is something that he's not doing well with. Ethan might push farther although much more gently than before.

Leon does and doesn't appreciate that, while he likes the feeling of someone caring and being concerned about him, it's also something he sort of...feels new to outside of people like Claire and Hunnigan, and yet he still hasn't learned how to really react to it. I feel like Leon also has, much obviously, moral OCD as well so he's been trying to brush off intrusive thoughts about Ethan to the best of his capabilities for a while now as it just fucking kills him to think about them.

Aaand Ethan doesn't like that Leon is doing something to himself that hurts him in any way and that Leon continues to brush it off as if it doesn't hurt him despite obviously doing so, it frustrates him beyond belief. Him believing that if he doesn't do something "as simple as" making sure he touched every doorframe as he checked and double checked every room "might" make his day go bad or have someone hurt for some reason isn't good for him (me, the pyschotic delusional idiot, staring at him with a thousand yard stare).

So, this is when they have a discussion about it. Leon tries to the best of his snarky, nilihist ahh abilities tell Ethan why he cannot not do those things, what if, what if that intuition is true, what if he doesn't do it something bad does happen? what if he can't make it better and people are hurt due to him, due to his inaction? he could've prevented it if only he made sure he everything was alright and he was calm.

Ethan's genuine reaction to that information.

While Ethan understands a part of that, as he also has trauma related to inaction from his part, if he only did enough and like the life of others are on his, he's also able to realize that "it won't help" to do those kind of stuff and he's much more focused on making sure other stuff that he knows will help. He also realizes that he's being a hypocrite, he also brushes off this kind of shit to not worry Leon or anyone. He can't allow himself too much, he knows he can't. Weakness and vulnerability is okay, but something that genuinely hurts him and that should be his problem to deal on his own? Yeah...

And I feel like that's when both Leon and Ethan realize the situation. Leon realizes how "absurd" that sounded, to be getting all up in arms about something like this, to think before to him it was equally as stupid and he still thinks it is but if he doesn't do it and something bad happens, the guilt will eat him alive and it already has been. He's trying so hard to amend his "sins" (religious trauma girlie omg 🤭) for not saving people he was supposed to every mission, for not doing it perfectly, for injuries, deaths, damage in general.

Ethan realizes this is really really important to Leon, he's able to relate to the sentiment and, it also hits close to home for him.

There's a deafening silence in the room.

Then Leon speaks up again, expressing his mot recent thought process. Which only makes Ethan sorrowful expression further, he doesn't really know what to respond, how to make Leon feel better. He wishes he could be smarter in this moment, that he knew best, but he doesn't. Not in this situation.

Leon tries to leave without a word more, but Ethan stops him, tells him that he understands the sentiment and he will try to make things easier for him, if he tells him how to. Maybe they could figure it out somehow.

That's when Leon softens and exhaustingly places his forehead on Ethan's. He doesn't have much to say, or anything at all really. He's just tired and so is Ethan. Both of their minds are so loud at all times, telling them horrible shit and yet they have to just act like it's not happening to not worry the other.

I think after this accident, Ethan will try to help Leon ease his worries by asking what he needs and so does Leon ask to him.

And then eventually these two idiots get stuffed into therapy because that ain't normal brother, by the lovely Rebecca and Claire. 😭

#putting stuff in quotes bc i will never throw shade at another delusion-like girlie. fuck you eth we are completely in the right.#and thats scary thats spooky but FUCK YOUUU #okay wait maybe i do have to reality check myself a little nooo. i don't actually have to do those things myself to make sure im safe thanks #brain you fuckin bastard im fine and completely normal. 💯#anyways have fun ppl byeeee

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buttercupjosh · 10 months ago

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Rant: I gotta say being blocked on here because I don’t tag my posts according someone else’s preferences is so silly to me. I do tag my personal writing fics but not for my fic recs list to their standards. That makes me feel so deeply hurt because I don’t like the feeling of knowing that I’m blocked by someone (which I take being blocked very personally), especially by someone who’s content I’ve supported through some of my own reblogs in the past.

I don’t get why myself and probably other lots of people are caught in their crossfire when there’s a beautiful thing on this site called tag filtering AND YOU CAN FILTER OUT THE TAGS YOU DON’T WANT TO SEE ON HERE WITHOUT HAVING TO BE A PRICK (YES YOU) AND BLOCK PEOPLE OR EVEN BETTER, JUST SCROLL PAST THE STUFF YOU’RE NOT INTERESTED IN. HOW ON EARTH AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW YOUR TAG PREFERENCES? I FULLY UNDERSTAND THAT YOU CAN CURATE YOUR EXPERIENCE HOWEVER YOU WANT ON HERE BUT SOME OF Y’ALL ARE ACTING LIKE CLOWNS AND NEED TO BE FOR FREAKING REAL INSTEAD OF BLOCKING PEOPLE OVER THE SILLIEST AND DUMBEST THINGS. I CAN SEE BLOCKING SOMEONE BECAUSE THEY SAID SOMETHING YOU DIDN’T LIKE OR SUPPORT SOMETHING YOU DEEPLY DISLIKE OR IF THEY DIRECTLY HARASS YOU BUT OVER SOMETHING AS SIMPLE AS TAGS (TAGS THAT ARE NOT EVEN CONNECTED TO SMUT OR CERTAIN SENSITIVE TOPICS) IS SO, SO STUPID TO ME.

(The person I’m talking about isn’t going to unblock me anyways because I don’t fit into their strict definition of parameters/boundaries on this site so if they see this somehow, I apologize in advance for everything that I’m saying throughout this chaos post.

Just know that you really hurt my feelings very badly over something so, so small according to such an extremely petty definition of curating your feed to your expectations and it made me extremely upset and pushed me over the edge/off the rails a bit because I was worried that I did something wrong to you or posted something bad to warrant being blocked so that’s why I’m ranting so intensely about it (I also have anxiety and can get overwhelmed easily but I don’t take it out by blocking people either, I just step away from what’s making me feel that way). I also think that the way how you’re curating feed is a bit extreme and a bit unnecessary in a sense for Tumblr or any social media site (yeah, tons of people post content about stuff or players I don’t like or want to interact with on here but I’m not blocking them for just existing. I just ignore it and move on). Also, because you blocked me, too bad you can’t see that I’ve supported you through some of my reblogs and I never used any of your gifs on any of my fics or other posts before so you cannot claim that I’m a content stealer by any means to justify blocking me either. I obviously can’t block you back since you already did it to me first but you don’t understand how much it pains me to see your content that I like come up and I can’t interact with it. It’s also funny to me, that on Tumblr, content sharing is greatly encouraged and you’re purposely gatekeeping people from that (you know that you make content for a player who is a bit underrated on here now) by blocking them because they don’t fit your tag standards.

Another thing, just because you tell people not to take it personally because being blocked doesn’t bother you, that doesn’t mean I’m not going to take it personally. You obviously don’t truly care about how other people would feel about your actions that you say you do for your sanity (Tumblr is known for being chaotic and this is coming from someone who follows thousands of blogs on here). Remember, you hurt my feelings and possibly others first so I suggest not crying to your followers that hurt feelings are coming back to you in a way. This rant and criticism isn’t bullying either because if it was, I would be saying way worse things or encouraging others to be mean to you. If this post hurts you, it hurts you and I’m sorry for being this petty, I get it, I’m clearly emotional about it and I have rejection sensitivity issues but just remember that you’re actively hurting other people much more with your actions than a post that’s subtweeting/throwing shade at your gatekeeping behavior in the name of blog management.

#rants and rambles #screaming into the void

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letaliabane · 3 years ago

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Okay first, Ur battinson fics are so perfect and each one leaves me wanting more!!!

So I had this thought why not bruce having a wife and she knows he is batman and worries about him all the time but she is the one healing him and taking care of his injuries and stuff, so to follow the timeline of the movie how about we see a worried Bruce/batman at the scene when the city floods? U know he pickes her up and makes sure she is in a safe place and they lock eyes when he decides to cut the elecricity wire and she thinks he is dying then they just reunite?

I had this idea since watching the movie and if u don’t like it I am totally okay with ut and can’t wait to read more of battinson fics. Stay safe and sending love🤍🤍

the assistant and the wife

bruce wayne x reader/batman x reader

spoilers for the movie!! (do yourselves a favour and go see it!)

warnings: near drowning, description of wounds, stitches

genre: married couple being a badass team, angst, soft!brucewayne

a/n: andddd I am back! Sorry for the break just needed to have some time to myself to regenerate. omg I love this idea so much thank you for sending in your request @pedrohoe04 !

‘Y/N where are you?!’

A small shriek left you, jumping as your earpiece crackled to life, trying to remain casual as you reached up to fix your hair.

You had been the wife of Bruce Wayne for many years, to the Batman you had been his “assistant” and “confidant” since the very beginning of his journey.

Well, nearly the beginning, you had caught Alfred taking a tray of medical tools and painkillers towards the elevator hurriedly one night. Letting some time passed you followed to find the old underground railroad turned into a facility, and in the corner opposite the elevator, is where the butler stood over the Batman, or as you found out, your husband who stared at you wide eyed.

It had been a hard pill to swallow at first, taking some time away from him before returning and accepting his new life.

The only condition? You had be apart of it; no more secrets between the two of you. And though he struggled with it at first, Bruce eventually accepted the terms.

Which is how you became his assistant! Helping with cases by doing more research, solving cyphers, and using your power as Mrs Wayne to sometimes disguise his sudden disappearances or even to gain favours or more information for his cases.

‘I’m at the Bella Reál’s First Speech! Why? How did the visit at Arkham go-’

‘You need to get somewhere safe! It’s about to be filled with thousands of Gotham’s citizens-’

Suddenly you saw the doors burst open, people rushing in hysterical, running down the staircases, those who were seated turning to them in confusion.

‘Bruce what the hell is going on-’

‘Nashton. He bombed the ravines across the city, wanted to see the people crawl, uproot the corruption from the hierarchy, wanted me right where he wanted-’

Your eyes widened at the revelation, getting to your feet and beginning to push your way through the growing crowds.

‘So you’re saying it may have been his plan all along for all this to happen?’

‘Yes I just-I didn’t see it! I can’t believe I didn’t see all the signs and missed the-’

‘Hey!’ You call to him, ‘You know now! Thats all that matters. You’ve gotta focus and do what you’ve got to do!‘

As his wife you knew Bruce tended to tumble into a rabbit hole with his thoughts and all you wanted to do was comfort him, to stop him from putting himself down. But you couldn’t.

This was the assistant in you talking. You couldn’t mollycoddle him. You never did in situations where it concerned the Batman. Not when people’s lives were at risk.

You heard him take a deep breath. ‘Your right, I know what to do. Be safe Y/N.’

‘You too Batsy.’

When the line went completely silent, you slowly made your way up the stairs and got to work.

Not wanting to raise any alarms or frighten anyone, you began to coax people towards the higher levels of the arena as a ‘recommendation.’ Many easily went up at the recognition of ‘Mrs Wayne’ before them, some others taking a little more convincing.

Only when the cops began to roll in did you finally make your way up higher. That was until suddenly gunshots went off high above, a shriek leaving you and many others, immediately sending people into a frenzy, even louder screams echoing across the cavernous space.

Glancing upwards you barely caught sight of the gunmen before multiple explosions went off, the entire glass ceiling caving in, a great black shadow falling over them sending them to their knees or to the stage below.

You couldn’t help but smirk before rushing up the stairs.

Amidst the chaos, the rattling metal and the shaking of the walls increased, water beginning to pour like waterfalls down the staircases into the lower levels. From what you could make out through the darkness was most people up at a relative level away from the oncoming danger.

The crying of a child caught your attention. A young girl now hip deep in the water, arms flailing, the water rising faster and faster around her. Glancing around, a deep anger burned in your stomach at the lack of help anyone was providing, looking between one another.

Without hesitation you dropped your things and jumped into the water, momentarily cursing as the coldness sweeping over you like pins and needles. You were quick to scoop the little one up into your arms, swimming over to the highest staircase where a man stood, handing over the child.

Reaching to climb out of the water suddenly you were pulled under into the cold depths, a tight grip on the back of your blouse dragging you back. Struggling, you kicked and threw your weight against the body on top of you.

Gasping as you came up from the water, you shoved them away; it was a man, his head wrapped in duct tape with cracked glasses that shone brightly in the lights; just like the Riddlers. He lunged at you with a growl, arms aimed perfectly for your head where he shoved you back down, holding you under the water by your shoulders.

Thrashing, you slammed your hands against him but began to feel your arms go limp until he was suddenly gone from above you. You scarcely know how you were pulled out of the water, only that you’re puking your guts out across the ground on all fours.

‘What did I say about being safe Y/N?!’

Blinking rapidly, looking up into the familiar face of Batman as he pushed away the wet hair out of your face. His eyes were wide, those familiar piercing blue eyes tainted with fear. You winced in sudden pain, looking down to see him gripping your forearm tight. Squeezing his hand, you weakly smiled up at him.

‘I’m fine Batman. You need to go!’

He hesitated for a moment but nodded, barely grazing your cheek with the tips of his gloved hand before releasing his grappling hook. He flew back towards the high ramparts where gunshots still chorused, disappearing within a cloud of smoke.

You weakly leant yourself against the railing, letting your eyes slide shut trying to regain your breath. It was the snapping of wires, the groan of metal and the crackle of electricity that had your eyes shooting open, watching the overheard screens begin to collapse, right into the crowd below.

A black mass in your peripheral made you flinch, glancing towards the Batman swinging towards the cord that barely held up the now electrified screens that swung precariously through the air. Watching in a trance your husband detaching the knife from his chest.

‘No .. no no!’ You cried, struggling to your feet, reaching towards him. His eyes flickered towards you briefly, holding your gaze before he let out a guttural cry, slashing at thick band of wires.

A wretched scream rang out; you didn’t realise it was coming from you as you watched your husband plummet, electrical sparks flying across his suit before he disappeared into the murky depths below.

Legs buckling beneath your weight you collapsed to the ground, sobs erupting from your chest. Your hand still lay outstretched towards the waters, the world spinning violently around you, nails digging into the railing painfully.

Suddenly a light shone within the darkness, so bright you had to cover your eyes. The flare dimmed slowly, looking down into the pit of debris to see Batman rising from the waters, flare held aloft amidst the darkness.

It was like an electric shock shot through you when the earpiece came to life once more, tears silently streaming down your face as your husband said, ‘Hold on Y/N, I’m coming to get you.’

Bruce tried to hold back a hiss of pain, gripping the edges of the steel medical table he lay on, but you felt him flinch against your touch, levitating the pressure.

‘Sorry,’ You said softly, continuing to gently dab at the bloodied wounds on his chest with a sponge, wanting to make sure they were clean before going in with the needle and thread.

After the people had been evacuated from the arena, Bruce navigated the skyscrapers safely back to Wayne Tower with you in his arms, collapsing on arrival from complete exhaustion and the wounds he had sustained.

With Alfred’s help you were able to get him into the bedroom where the butler had already prepared the medical table. Briefly changing, you started work on your unconscious husband, cleaning and sowing up the bullet wound on his leg.

It was hours later he blinked awake, finding you sitting beside him on the table attending to him.

Now he leant against the wall as you worked, very little being said between the two of you. He knew all you wanted was to solely focus on the task at hand, and only when you were ready you would talk.

With a final knot and flourish, you put the needle and thread aside, going over the wounds with a fresh cloth to wipe away any remaining blood or fluids.

Tracing the jagged scars that were imprinted on Bruce’s skin, it was then that the events of the night crashed upon you; how close Nashton had been to killing so many innocent people, how close you were to losing your husband.

You dropped your head against his chest with a heavy sigh, letting your hands run up and down his biceps. Bruce cradled the back of your head, his fingers slipping through your hair.

Quietly you spoke, voice trembling. ‘You really scared me tonight Bruce. When I saw you fall I thought ... I thought I’d lost you-’

You felt him go rigid beneath you, his grip tightening on the back of your neck. ‘And what about you?’

Confused, you raised your head. He was looking at you with an incredulous expression.

‘I told you to get to safety and yet where do I find my wife? Helping people to safety and risking her life for others as well and nearly drowning!’

Oh right! You’d completely forgotten about that in all honestly. You could’ve died tonight if it hadn’t been for Bruce’s quick thinking and keen eye.

‘Don’t-don’t ever think I’m undermining your work. Because I’m not! What you do is just as important as what the Batman does, even more. Protecting the people of Gotham in your way, putting your neck out to protect me constantly as my wife, nursing me back to health-'

'But Bruce-' He stopped you with a firm look, softening as he caressed your cheek.

'I just-I now know what it’s like to be in your shoes on the other side of all this. And I’ve never felt that afraid since-since ...’

Pain seized your heart in a tight grip at his words. Your eyes flickered downwards, unknowingly fiddling with your fingertips anxiously. Bruce gripped your hand, letting his thumb run over your knuckles.

‘Y/N,’ He called to you softly, gripping your chin gently and leaning his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes. ‘I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always come back to you. As long as you do the same like we promised.’

You nodded, the tears that had sprung to your eyes falling, nose nuzzling against his. Bruce gave you a small smile, pulling away to kiss your forehead lovingly.

Together you breathed deeply. In that moment with the sun rising over the horizon, it was a moment between Bruce Wayne and his wife Y/N, long were the Batman and the assistant gone.

Thoughts wandering back towards the hectic evening, you couldn’t help but chuckle under your breath. Bruce pulled away curiously.

‘What is it?’

‘I won’t lie it was ... delightful watching you in your element, how you took down all those men so easily.’

His cocked his eyebrow, bringing you closer by your hips with a firm grip. ‘Is that so?’

You giggled girlishly as he wrapped his arms around your waist, smiling down at you. Bruce kisses you, his lips are firm and controlling but also tender. Carefully you let your arms tangle around his neck, weaving your hand into his hair pulling him in close.

Sure being the assistant to the Batman was a gruelling task, sometimes you despised it, sometimes it sent fear flush through your veins. But the greatest reward was working with your husband to do better for the city and its people you both saw worth fighting for.

masterlist - robert pattinson masterlist

requests are welcomed in the ask box if anyone would like one

________

tagged: @mischiefmanaged71 @xoxoloverb @wandas-wife @t-stark35 @laufeysonsbarnes @sillynillybilly @honey-im-hotdog @shannonxg @ceruleanrainblues @hawkchaos @a-bolanos @tsunchani

tags that aren’t working:

@blkwayne @techno54 @loverofminee @notgonnadothis @taetaeyeontae @abarelyexistentbeing @mybookslibrarieskpopbear

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sacredsorceress · 4 years ago

Text

Her Hand || Bucky Barnes

pairing: 40’s!bucky barnes x rogers!reader

summary: after months of keeping your relationship a secret, your brother steve finds out and bucky has an important question to ask him

a/n: another addition to my bucky x rogers!reader collection because i simply could not get them off of my mind last week and i also love bucky and steve’s friendship with all my heart

word count: 2.5k

warnings: quick fight, none

masterlist || request || taglist

1941

You and Bucky had been seeing each other behind your brother’s back for months. You were shocked you both had gone on for so long without Steve finding out considering how neither of you could keep your hands off of each other. Whether it was sneaking kisses when your brother wasn’t looking or holding hands under tables- you needed each other like you needed air.

Despite the fact that Bucky was his best friend, you knew the moment your brother found out everything would change. Steve was nothing if not overprotective of you since the deaths of your parents and his own struggles growing up. He just wanted what was best for you and you knew that, but sometimes the lines were blurred on what that was- especially when it would come to dating... and dating Bucky no less.

So, not wanting to risk your brother’s rage and his friendship with Bucky, the two of you had been keeping your relationship a secret. You knew eventually you would have to tell him, but you both were in such romantic bliss that you told yourself that was a future problem.

You had first told yourself that ten months ago and the future was bound to catch up.

“Buck, you need to go.” You giggled against his lips before pressing yours against his once again. “He’s gonna wake up.”

“C’mon Y/n.” Bucky chuckled, gripping your waist tighter and pulling you closer to him. “He sleeps like a rock. Just let me in, hmm? Just for one night?”

“Shh!” You hushed him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’re not stepping into my room while my brother’s home without a ring on this finger, mister. You understand me Barnes?”

“Doll,” He groaned, throwing his head back which just made you laugh harder. “You know I’ve got a plan- you just gotta be patient, Y/n- trust me.”

Lacing your fingers into his hair, you laughed against his lips.

“Shush, James. You’re gonna wake him up!” You whispered. “You gotta head home.”

“If you insist. One more kiss?” He asked.

“One more.”

Pressing your lips against his, you couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, both of you laughing out of pure bliss.

Pulling yourself away, you opened your eyes and turned your head to the side only to be met with the sight of your brother standing in the doorway of your apartment.

Eyes growing wide and heart thumping in your chest, you and Bucky jumped away from each other, you pushing him behind you.

“Steve, I can explain.” You pleaded, holding your hands out in front of you.

Watching as his hands balled into fists at his sides, you knew you weren’t going to be getting out of this one easily.

“You better have a damn good explanation.” He said, firmly.

“Steve, I-” Bucky attempted to speak up, moving from his spot behind you to be by your side.

“You can have every girl in this city, Buck, and you just have to go after my sister too?” Steve asked in disgust, cutting off his friend.

Glancing from your brother to his friend, catching a sadness you had never seen before in his eyes, you shook your head.

“Stevie it’s not like that-”

“It’s always like that, Y/n!” Your brother shouted, turning his attention back to you while pointing an accusing finger at Bucky. “You don’t know what he’s like! He takes out a different girl every day and I used to turn my head, but God damn it! My sister too?”

You and Bucky had always known that there wouldn’t be a necessarily positive reaction from your brother when you first told him, but standing in the midst of the situation now you both wished you could escape to seconds before.

A part of you felt so guilty you wished you had told him earlier.

Maybe his reaction wouldn’t have been so bad.

“Steve, I- I don’t do that anymore.” Bucky said, his voice faltering. “I know that I’ve done stuff like that in the past, but it’s over for me now. I care about your sister, Steve. I love her.”

Rather than relax at his friend’s confession of love, you watched as your brother took a deep, long, shaky breath.

“How long has this been going on?” He asked.

“Steve-” You attempted to ease him.

“I said ‘how long has this been going on!’” He shouted this time.

“Ten months.” Bucky confessed calmly from beside you.

It happened so quickly that you couldn’t stop it.

Rather than shout once again, seeing red, you watched as Steve threw himself at Bucky, shoving him to ground and climbing on top of him.

“Oh my God!” You shouted in shock, wrapping your arms around your brother’s torso to pull him off of your lover. “Steve, get off of him!”

Rather than let go, your brother pulled the collar of Bucky’s shirt, shoving him against the floor.

“Ten months!” Steve shouted. “You’ve been seeing my sister for ten fucking months and you didn’t say anything? She’s not something that you can just mess around with-”

Throwing a punch to his best friend’s face, Bucky cursing in pain but not moving to throw Steve off of him, you found the strength to tug Steve hard enough to pull him off, you both falling to the ground in the process.

“Shit!” Bucky cursed, holding his eye.

Glancing from your brother back to Bucky, you pushed yourself to your feet, making your way to Bucky’s side. You dropped to your knees and attempted to examine his wound before turning back to your brother.

“You know- this is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you.” You told your brother. “I mean, God, Steve you’re so overprotective of me. You get so mad when people think you can’t fight or handle yourself, but you do the same shit to me. I can handle myself! I’ve known Buck just as long as you and I know what he used to be like but it’s not like that anymore, Steve. I know what I’m doing. I’m with Bucky and you can either come to terms with that or... I don’t know... but I’m not leaving him.”

Noticing how your brother’s shoulders began to relax and his fists loosened at his sides, you turned back to Bucky, gently brushing your fingertips against the bruise forming around his eye.

“I should get you some ice.”

Rather than agreeing, Bucky shook his head adamantly.

“No. Leave it doll.” He groaned, moving his hands up to hold his eye once again. “I deserve it.”

Glancing back up at Steve you saw him sigh before reaching his hand out for Bucky to take. Glancing at you and then Steve’s hand, Bucky took it, Steve pulling him to his feet.

An awkward silence hanging between the three of you for a brief moment, Steve was the first to speak up.

“Y/n, can you leave us alone for a few minutes?” Your brother asked.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged standing up. “You gonna try to throw him over the fire escape?”

“Y/n, it’s okay.” Bucky said, pushing himself up to his elbows. “Head inside. I’ll be fine.”

Eyeing Bucky and then your brother, you sighed, shoving past Steve to reach the open door of you and your brother’s shared apartment.

“If I see another bruise on his face, Steve, I sweat to God I’ll kill you.”

And with that you shut the door.

Watching the door slam and his face, Steve sighed, moving to sit on the steps that led up to your apartment, Bucky following behind.

Groaning as he slowly situated himself beside his friend, Bucky glanced at Steve and sighed.

“I’m sorry for not telling you.” Bucky said, staring out into the dark night in front of him. “I was just afraid of what would happen when you found out. You’re my best friend and I didn’t want you to get so pissed that you never wanted to talk to me again... or never let me talk to her again. I really love your sister though, Steve. This isn’t like the other ones.”

Steve knew without him even saying it that you were different from his past relationships. He had never seen his friend so sincere, so vulnerable. Ten months was far beyond the longest relationship Bucky had ever been in which lasted a total of three weeks. Ten months was a long while for anybody- especially his best friend.

“So uh... ten months huh?” Steve asked, glancing at his friend sat beside him. “That’s a... that’s a long time.”

“Yeah.” Bucky agreed, turning to face Steve. “That’s kinda why I’m glad you know now. There’s something I wanted to talk to you about... if you’re in a good mood anyway. I don’t want a matching shiner.”

Not being able to hold back his laugh, Steve chuckled, nodding his head.

“Go ahead, Buck.”

Although Bucky had run through this conversation since one month into your relationship, as he sat there now next to Steve, he didn’t know if he would actually be able to say it. He had gone through hundreds of different scenarios thousands of times, but choosing the right one in this important moment seemed almost impossible.

His mind drifting to you though, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer. He didn’t want to. In his mind he had already waited long enough.

“I just want to do this right, Steve.” He said, facing his friend, trying his best to sit still and stay calm. “You know, I’ve thought about how I have to do this my whole life- asking the dad and everything- but I don’t know if it’s better or worse that I have to ask my best friend.” Bucky chuckled. “I know your sister can handle herself and everything- she would say that it’s stupid that I’m even asking you and everything- but I love her and I just want to do this right because she’s it for me, pal.”

“What are you saying?” Steve asked.

“I wanna marry her, Steve.” Bucky said finally. “And I don’t want you to think this just came out of nowhere. I’ve known for a while. Ma gave me her ring ‘n everything and I’ve been ready for so long, but I couldn’t do it without telling you and asking you for her hand ‘n all.”

Staring at his friend, eyes growing wide, it hit Steve for the first time just how serious not only Bucky was, but your relationship. You were Steve’s little sister, adopted at an age that he had barely known life without you and Bucky was his best friend- a friendship forged so young that he couldn’t remember not having him by his side. It was hard for Steve to believe the words he was hearing out of Bucky’s mouth.

Not only were you and Bucky in love with each other, but he was ready to devote his life to you.

“Wow, Buck.” Steve exclaimed at a loss for words. “What happened to her being a ‘nosy punk’?”

Chuckling, Bucky shrugged.

“C’mon you know I always had a soft spot for her.” He said. “I don’t know... things changed. I’m sorry for not telling you, pal, I am. I was just scared of losing her ‘cause she’s the best damned thing that ever happened to me.”

Moving his hand to Steve’s shoulder, Bucky gripped it gently.

“I promise I’ll take care of her.” Bucky said sincerely. “As much as she’ll hate it- I’ll do everything I can to protect her. I know I don’t have much, but I’ll give her a good life, Steve. I’m with her until the end and then some. I’ll be haunting her ass as soon as I’m six feet under.”

Not being able to help the laugh that escaped his mouth, Steve chuckled, resting his hand on his friend’s shoulder in return.

“So you really love her?” Steve asked.

“Steve, I’m asking you to let me marry her.” He said. “Of course I love her.”

Removing his hand from his friend’s shoulder, Steve shook his head in disbelief.

“This is a lot to take in, Buck.”

And it was.

You were his sister and as hard as it was, he would do whatever it took to protect you. He almost couldn't help but feel a part of his heart sink, feeling as though you didn’t need him anymore. But as he stared at his best friend and heard both yours and Bucky’s words replaying in his mind he couldn’t find it in himself to stand between either of the people he cared for most.

The longer Steve thought about it, the more relieved he was that his two favorite people had found their way to each other.

“You promise you’ll take good care of her?” Steve asked, glancing at his friend in the dark night, only the light shining through the window of the apartment highlighting his face.

“I promise, pal.”

Staring straight ahead of him, Steve finally nodded.

“You have my blessing- or whatever it is- to ask her.” Steve said, giving his permission. “It’s her decision, but I’m not gonna stand in your way, Buck. Just don’t forget about your brother-in-law, alright?”

Not being able to help the complete and utter joy he was feeling from the pieces finally coming together in his life, Bucky shook his head, laughing.

“God, ‘brother-in-law’.” Bucky repeated. “This is really happening, huh?”

“I guess so.” Steve smiled, standing to his feet. “Now go plan that proposal and everything. You’ve convinced me, now you just gotta convince her.”

Only chuckling in response, still sitting on his spot on the step, Bucky fiddled with his fingers, basking in the relief of the weight he had been under finally being lifted off of his chest.

Moving towards the door of his apartment, Steve glanced over his shoulder at his best friend.

“Hey Buck?” He called.

“Yeah?”

“For uh...” Steve said, clearing his throat. “For what it’s worth... I’m glad it’s you.”

Not giving him an opportunity to reply, Bucky listened as the door shut behind Steve, leaving Bucky on the steps of your fire escape alone with his thoughts.

Slipping his hand into his pocket Bucky pulled out the ring his mother had given him two months before, twisting it around in his fingers. It took everything in his power at that moment to not knock on the door of your apartment and propose to you right then and there. Instead, he closed his eyes, feeling the cool metal against his skin, planning just the right way to convince his best girl to spend the rest of her life with a lovesick fool like him.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #Bucky Barnes drabble #bucky barnes blurb #40s!bucky

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messers-moony · 3 years ago

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Hope 2 | R.L

Paring: Remus Lupin X Wife!Potter!Reader

Summary: Life is unfair in numerous ways but it seems like it’s out to get the Potters in every way shape and form.

The huge eight-foot man who introduced himself as Hagrid was bringing Harry around London. It was amusing to see Hagrid turn his cousin - Dudley - butt into a pigtail after trying to eat his birthday cake. It was the first birthday Y/n, and Remus hadn’t shown up. Harry didn’t blame them. Of course, to be fair, they didn’t know where Harry was.

“Um, excuse me, Hagrid?”

“Yes, ‘Arry?”

“Where- Where are we going?” Harry questioned hesitantly, and Hagrids lips curled into a smile, “‘Er gon’ meet with som’ of yer folks.” Hagrid answered.

Harry wanted to jump with joy, “Moony and Y/n?”

Hagrid nodded, and Harry smiled brightly. It took a couple of minutes and walking of a couple more blocks. But eventually, they were coming up on an old-looking building made of black stone bricks. In front of the door was a familiar sandy-haired male with green eyes. He was accompanied by his wife with h/c hair and gleaming e/c eyes.

“Y/n! Remus!”

Y/n turned to see her little nephew running up to hug her tightly, “Hey Harry.”

Remus ruffled his hair while Harry hugged his aunt, “Hey there, mini Prongs.”

“I missed you.”

“Awe, I missed you too, Harry.” Y/n replied, pulling apart from Harry, “I’m sorry we didn’t show up right away. But we’re here now. I hope that’s okay. We wouldn’t miss your birthday for the world, okay?”

He nodded, “I know. I can always count on you.”

“Good.” Remus stated, “Now c’mon mini prongs. Gotta get your school supplies.”

Walking into the Leaky Cauldron with Hagrid, they were greeted by multiple people. Many people were flabbergasted by meeting the famous Harry Potter and were welcoming to see Y/n Potter. In the back of the Leaky Cauldron, Hagrid tapped his wand against the brick wall, causing it to open into Diagon Alley. Harry’s mouth was agape at this new form of Magic.

It was astonishing. The narrow alleyway was packed with people. Clusters of them walking in groups. Some were carrying animals, or brown-wrapped items Harry could suppose were books. Y/n smiled and intertwined her hand with Remus’. She could remember the first time she stepped into Diagon Alley. James was acting like such a prat.

“Woah!” James gasped, “Look at all the cool stuff!”

Fleamont chuckled, “Yeah. Isn’t it cool, sweetheart?”

Y/n nodded, completely entranced in the stonework in the alleyway. It was littered with different shops, and the roads were an uneven stone. Euphemia and Fleamont shared a look of pure glee. Their children were magical born, and they were finally experiencing it first hand. Of course, they had their incidents where Y/n would make lights flicker or James blowing plates.

As they began walking, James began to run off, bumping into people left and right, “James! Get back here!” Fleamont scolded, but he was out of sight.

Euphemia sighed, “He’s gonna be a handful.”

“Definitely.” Fleamont agreed, running a hand through his dark brunet hair, “Perhaps he’ll be even worse than me.”

His wife glared at him. Despite James disappearing, they took Y/n into Flourish and Blotts to get their books. They needed books such as The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1), A History of Magic, Magical Theory, A Beginners’ Guide to Transfiguration, One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, Magical Drafts and Potions, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, and finally, The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection.

They didn’t find James until they reached Quality Quidditch Supplies. He was already eyeing the new broom on display. His mouth seemed to be salivating at it. Y/n rolled her eyes at James, drooling over a piece of wood. Euphemia chuckled and motioned Fleamont to reel him back in. It seemed that Euphemia would never get a break, and her heart would be in a constant attack of worry. They had a mischief Quidditch player on their hands.

“C’mon Harry,” Y/n beckoned, “Lots of stuff to get.”

His smile faltered just a tad, “But I don’t- I don’t have any money.”

Harry’s embarrassment made the tips of his ears red, “That ain’t true. ‘Course ye got money.” Hagrid replied bluntly, making Y/n nudge him harshly, “Hagrid!”

“What?” Hagrid queried, confused, “‘S not like ‘m lyin’.”

“Yes, but you don’t just say that.” Y/n scolded, laughing lightly.

“Oops?”

Harry looked up at his flustered aunt, “Come on, Harry. We’re going to Gringotts.”

They began walking to the bank of wizardry. The goblin at the front allowed them to the vault, where Harry was able to pocket a couple of handfuls of galleons, sickles, and knuts. Hagrid made a separate trip for Dumbledore as the other three waited patiently. When they exited Gringotts, Harry began to buy all his supplies.

Their first stop was getting him a wand at Ollivander’s. Harry pushed the door open, and it sounded a bell off, but no one appeared the be in the shop. Remus and Y/n stood behind him as he let out a hesitant, “Hello.”

It took a minute, but then an older male appeared with hair as white as snow and wispy as whiskers. Ollivander smiled brightly at the familiar people in his shop and at the little boy who resembled the older female greatly.

“Ah, Y/n Potter.” Ollivander said, “James broken his wand again?”

Y/n released a shaky breath, “No, not this time.”

“We’re here actually for Harry here.” Remus motioned to Harry, “He’s getting his first wand. He starts at Hogwarts this year.”

Ollivander's lips quirked, “He yours?”

“No, sir.” Y/n shook her head, “He’s James and Lily’s son.”

“Where are they? I’d love to see them, you know.”

Remus shifted awkwardly, “You haven’t heard?”

Ollivander shook his head, “My parents are dead.” Harry informed, “Someone killed them.”

Everything clicked into place in Ollivanders mind. How stupid could old age make him? He had just sounded terribly insensitive, “‘M so sorry. Pardon me and my old age. I didn’t mean-“

“It’s perfectly fine, Ollivander.” Y/n smiled reassuringly.

The older man smiled and began giving Harry wands. The first one was horrid. It made wands on the shelf fall onto the ground, making a vast clatter noise. The boy smiled sheepishly and placed it back in the box. The next wand caused a shatter of a vase which Harry cringed at. It took a couple of minutes until Ollivander came out with the following wand. It was 11 inches long, made of holly, and possessed a phoenix feather core.

Harry waved the wand, and nothing disastrous happened. Remus and Y/n smiled with joy. Ollivander charged him seven galleons for it, and Harry placed down the golden coins with glee. Ollivander could remember the way James had done the same while Y/n beside him. Their identical toothy grins as Fleamont paid the man.

“My wands cooler than yours!”

“No way!”

James nodded in triumph, “You’re just lame.”

“And you’re boring!”

“No way!” James gasped, “I am far from boring!”

Y/n crossed her arms, “And I’m not lame.”

Euphemia chuckled, redirecting her children to look at the counter while the two parents stood behind them, “Ignore them. They like to try and be better than the other.”

Ollivander grinned, “Ah, siblings. What amazing pairs they make.”

Fleamont scoffed, “Yeah, try having two at the same time. Felt like the crucio curse.”

“What do you say?” Euphemia beckoned, and both twins turned to Ollivander, smiling gleefully, “Thank you!”

“They’ll be a handful.” Ollivander informed Euphemia and Fleamont, “But they’ll change the world, and they’ll do it together.”

The older man smiled at Remus and Y/n as Harry went outside to see Hagrid carrying a giant golden cage with a beautiful snowy owl inside, “That boy is something else.”

Remus chuckled, “We know. Little mischief-maker, just like James.”

“Perhaps he is,” Ollivander replied, “But he’ll change the world.”

The rest of the day went by blissfully. After getting all his school supplies, they retreated into the Leaky Cauldron to eat dinner. The tavern was practically empty as they sat at a long narrow table. Hagrid at the head, Harry to his left, Remus across, and Y/n beside Remus on the other side. They were eating in silence before Harry spoke up.

“What happened to my parents?” Harry questioned, and before anyone could answer, he continued, “Truthfully. No lies.”

Hagrid and Remus turned to the female at the table who swallowed thickly, “Something horrid, Harry.”

“How horrid?”

“Harry-“ Remus began.

“A death I wouldn’t wish upon anyone, even my worse enemy.” Y/n answered, staring at the soup in front of her, “The way they died doesn’t matter.”

Harry crossed his arms, “I believe it does.”

“In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t.” Y/n replied, taking deep breaths in and out, trying to stay calm, “It doesn’t matter how they died. They’re dead, and they aren’t coming back.”

Tears collected in her eyes when she muttered, “No matter how badly I want them to.”

Hastily Y/n wiped her face and placed her napkin on the table. She sniffled before standing and pushing her chair in. Y/n leaned down to kiss Harry on the forehead before retreating to the room they got upstairs. Harry sighed and stared at his bowl of soup that remained steaming hot. Remus rubbed his face with his palms.

“Harry,” Remus called, and Harry’s green eyes met similar ones, “Your parents died at the hands of a very evil Wizard. He went as dark as one could go.”

Harry looked intrigued, and Remus continued despite his throat beginning to constrict, “His name was Voldemort, but most people call him ‘You-Know-Who.”

Hagrid flinched at the actual name being said, “James risked everything to try and save you and your mother. When he died, Lily tried to save you. In the end, it all worked out because you were saved. You didn’t die like you were supposed to.”

“Why did aunt Y/n leave the table?”

“Talking about this is still hard for her.” Remus replied, and Harry could see the tears in his eyes too, “It’s hard for me too, but- but you need to know.”

“What were they to you?”

“James and Lily were everything to me, Harry. Everything and so much more. Your mother saw the good in people when they didn’t see it themselves. Your father? Well-“ He chuckled, “He was a trip and a prat. But he cared for those around him. Treated me like family and took care of me like a brother.”

Harry fiddled with the sleeve of his sweater, “James was a mischief-maker that one.” Hagrid said, “Always up to no good.”

“Him and that Sirius boy.” Hagrid chuckled, “Dynamic duo those two.”

Remus let out a tearful chuckle, “Yeah, that was Padfoot and Prongs.”

“Always up to no good.” Remus whispered.

The following day Remus had waken up to what he swore was the most perfect sight. Y/n was still sleeping beside him. Her head was nestled under his chin, drinking in his body heat. Her hair was laid against the fluffy white pillow. Their legs were intertwined together. Gently Remus kissed her forehead before seeing the clock read about nine o’clock.

Remus took five more minutes to admire her before waking her up. He began to kiss all over her face, and Y/n scrunched her nose, waking up as his lips kept attaching to a new place on her face. He smiled as she opened her eyes to meet his green ones.

“Mornin’ love.”

His Welsh accent was to die for, “Morning, Rem.”

“You ready to take Harry to Platform Nine and Three Quarters?”

Y/n shook her head, “No. Not really.”

“Hey,” Remus said softly, stroking her hair, “You’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

“There are so many memories there, Rem.” Y/n replied, “Like- Like meeting Sirius for the first time.”

“Or seeing you come back after fourth year with an entirely new style.” Remus chuckled, “Or- Or seeing James almost fall out of the train.

Remus caressed her cheek with his thumb, “We’ll make it through, love. Harry needs us today.”

“Yeah.” She replied breathily, “He does.”

They both ventured out of bed into the cool air of London. Remus, Y/n, and Hagrid walked Harry to Kings Cross. When they arrived, Hagrid had departed from them to do something for Dumbledore. Harry was bluntly confused when his ticket read Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Last he checked, that wasn’t a platform.

As they reached the main floor of the train station, Remus and Y/n recognized the Weasleys almost instantly. Molly had embraced them tightly as they all went through the platform. Harry gave his trunks to the man at the end of the train and turned to the only family he had left. His eyes glistened with tears, and he tried to hold them back but failed.

“Harry,” Y/n knelt to his level, “You’re gonna be okay. I promise. James and I made lots of friends at Hogwarts.”

He smiled at the mention of his father, “Do you think… Do you think he’d be proud of me?”

“They’d be beyond proud, Harry.” Remus replied, smiling, “You’re everything they wanted you to be.”

Harry turned back to Y/n and hugged her tightly, “Please make sure you write to us.”

“‘Course, Auntie.” Harry replied as they pulled apart, “Love you guys.”

Y/n stood beside Remus, “We love you too, sweetheart.”

Harry smiled and wiped his cheeks before hopping on the train. He found a compartment alone and watched out the window as the train began moving. Y/n and Remus watched as the train hauled by. Kids who started waving their last goodbyes to their parents.

“Mum, dad!” James exclaimed from inside the compartment, “We love you!”

Euphemia and Fleamont chuckled tearfully, “We love you guys too!”

Truthfully James never wanted to leave his parents. They were his entire world. When Kings Cross was no longer in sight, he plopped down in the seat beside Y/n, who put her head on his shoulder. His left arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her tightly to his side.

“We got this, sis.” James assured, “We always have each other.”

It didn’t take long for Harry to get in trouble. As a matter of fact, it made Y/n laugh that within the first month, he had already managed a detention. She had settled for a letter rather than a Howler. Remus had made sure to tell him his fair of scolding words (“Say hi to Minnie for me!”). Harry smiled when the letter arrived in the morning.

Harry definitely made sure to say hi to “Minnie,” which made McGonagall smile like an idiot despite her usual strict nature. She could see and hear James saying the name when she gave them detention or Sirius’ pouty face begging her to have some form of mercy on them, for they had just turned the Slytherin robes red. Ever the dramatics that Black.

When he arrived back at the Platform, he nuzzled into Y/n and Remus’ arms before departing to the Dursleys. But all was good because in just a month he’d see them again for his birthday, which he did. They took him to Diagon Alley to get his second-year stuff along with some ice cream to celebrate his twelfth birthday.

He spent a week of his summer with them in their little house in London. It was far better than Privet Drive, and he felt a lot safer. But after the week was up, he was forced to return to the Dursleys. Within a week of being back, he’d managed to screw everything up. A thing named Dobby had quite literally dumped puddling all over one of the Dursley’s guests, and that got him trapped in his room.

Thankfully, Ronald Weasley, who had become his close friend, had saved him. Harry went to the Burrow for the first time and met everyone else. Molly had notified Remus and Y/n of his entrance. Sadly, they couldn’t make it to the Platform for reasons. Molly wouldn’t tell Harry, but he was okay with it.

Until Ron and he smashed into the brick wall, making them late for the train. It was then Ron had a brilliant thought of taking the flying car to Hogwarts. It did work until they got stuck in the Whomping Willow and then got caught by Severus Snape. A letter was sent home to Y/n and Molly. Both of which made two very different Howlers to their children.

Molly’s howler was scolding them, and it made Ron’s ears turn pink. Y/n and Remus’ howler was a different story. The moment it opened, laughter rang through the Great Hall. Familiar laughter of Remus and Y/n. It made McGonagall furious and happy at the same time.

“Merlin Harry!” Remus’ voice rang out, “You’re brilliant, aren’t you!”

“Remus, we’re supposed to be scolding him!” Y/n retorted jokingly, “I’m scolding myself for never thinking of it!” Remus replied.

Y/n chuckled, “Obviously, you shouldn't have done that, Harry; however, as long as you’re not harmed, we aren’t mad. Just be more careful next time.”

Remus was still dying of laughter, “Remus is still dying of laughter. We love you, Harry. Stay safe.”

Ron looked appalled with the coolness of the howler, “Bloody hell, you have a cool family.”

“They’re pretty cool.” Harry shrugged, smiling.

Y/n and Remus would be lying if the whole petrifying thing didn’t scare them. They were worried for Harry’s safety but weren’t surprised when Harry ended up saving them all like last year. When they were on the Platform, Remus began getting on the train with him after kissing Y/n goodbye.

He was grunting and groaning at every movement. The bags beneath his eyes looked more prominent than usual. Remus moved sluggishly, which was very unlike him. But Harry didn’t question it until he began to get on the train at Harry’s side.

“Uncle Moony?”

“Yes, Harry?” Remus replied after sitting in a compartment, his cloak covering most of his body.

“Why’re you on the train?”

He chuckled, “I’m your new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor.”

Harry smiled, and Remus fell into a dreamless sleep after a rough full moon the night prior. Hermione and Ron joined them not too long after as Harry began telling them about Sirius Black. The year went by as eventful as usual. Harry found out the accurate way his parents died along with Remus and Y/n. Peter Pettigrew being the culprit and then leaving before someone could catch him.

Afterward, Sirius had been staying in the guest bedroom at Y/n and Remus’. He didn’t want to go back to Grimmauld Place. That was the last place he wanted to go. So despite not wanting to be a burden, he took the position that Y/n offered him. Ever so kind, just like James. When he walked through those doors, Y/n had hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek.

“It’s good to have you back, older brother.”

Sirius could’ve cried on the spot, “It’s nice to see you again, little sis.”

The next couple of years were a trip. Fourth-year Harry had managed to get his name pulled out of the Goblet of Fire, leading to a new adventure of challenges. After finishing his fourth year, Cedric Diggory had died, marking the return of Voldemort, which had traumatized Harry in more than one way. That summer, he decided to stay with Y/n, Remus, and Sirius. They were all fantastic help throughout the entire thing. Through his nightmares, Y/n would make him hot chocolate and sit on the couch with him as he talked.

Fifth-year was dreadful. Delores Umbridge had come into the office as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, and the Order of the Phoenix reformed. Her detentions were terrible and horrid, especially for the first years. They were just kids, for Merlin’s sake. It made Y/n fume when she saw the back of Harry’s hand. The night they ventured to the Department of Mysteries was almost the worst night Harry could have dreamed of.

Sirius had almost died if Y/n wasn’t as quick as she was. Bellatrix was stunned to see her spell deflected but kept firing nonetheless. When they got home, it was silent. Remus had made tea for himself and Sirius while making hot chocolate for the other two. Harry had laid his head on Y/n’s shoulder and fallen asleep.

Truth be told, sixth year wasn’t any better. Dumbledore had died, and Harry was left to find the rest of the Horcruxes. It was then Sirius learned the actual death of his brother, making him mourn him all over again. Seventh year Harry, Ron, and Hermione ventured out to find the rest of them.

When Harry returned to Hogwarts through the passageway to the Room of Requirement with Snape as headmaster, the war had officially started. In the end, everything had fallen into place. When Harry used the resurrection stone, he saw them. He saw James, Lily, Remus, and Sirius. Harry almost wanted to laugh at seeing them all together. They looked so happy.

“Where- Where’s Y/n?”

Remus gave a solemn smile, “She made it. She’s still out there. Waiting for you.”

“Does that mean…”

“Turns out my sister is a tougher cookie than I thought.” James stated, and Harry turned to him, “She misses you.”

James chuckled, “As I do her.”

Harry turned back to Remus, “Does she know?”

“She was there when it happened.” Remus replied, “I had to give her one last ‘I love you’ and kiss goodbye, right?”

A noise rumbled from a distance, “It’s time, sweetie.” Lily stated.

Harry released a shaky breath before dropping the stone on the ground. He had to do this for Y/n, for Ron, for Hermione, for everyone. He was ready. When he stepped in front of Voldemort to die, all he could think about was his Aunt's eyes. The way they glittered with tears when she let him go for the first time. The way they creased when she smiled at his first Christmas. The way they gleamed with mischief when she gave the Weasley twins new prank material.

His last words would be ones he’d never regret, “Thank you, aunt Y/n, for everything.”

Because through everything, she was the only constant. She was the only one to hold him through anything. Through every nightmare, every battle, every tear, every smile. She was there with her radiant smile and caring nature.

When Harry defeated Voldemort, the world stopped. It was done. It was over. But the pain wasn’t gone. The trauma wasn’t bypassed. This was more than a war. Harry walked into the Great Hall to see crying parents, kids, and siblings mourning their dead loved ones. His eyes zoomed on Y/n sitting crisscross beside her husband, holding his hand tightly.

Wordlessly Harry sat beside her and leaned his head against her shoulder. Y/n tilted her head onto his. No tears fell from her eyes despite everything she had gone through, two wars, friends dead, parents dead, brother dead, and now husband dead.

“His last words were- they were,” She choked, and Harry rubbed her shoulder, “I love you more than Moony loves the moon.”

Harry smiled, “Dad said you were a tough cookie.”

Y/n chuckled, and Harry relished in the sound, “He said that if anyone could get through this, it’s you.”

“Damn it, James.” She said to no one, still holding Remus’ hand.

“We’ll get through this.” Harry said, “And we’ll do it together.”

“Together.”

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gallifreyanwriter · 4 years ago

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In Which Sam Winchester Finally Speaks Up

Takes place during the time that Sam and Dean lost their main-character mojo, and had to drive up north to get it back. I just think there should have been some...unintended consequences, of no longer being the main character.

“I’m just saying,” Sam said, “If we were the main characters, up until now that is...why did we suck so much at getting the girl?”

Dean groaned.

“It’s a philosophical question! Purely hypothetical!” Sam protested.

“That’s all you’ve been doing for the past hundred miles!!” Dean retorted, “if you pose one more hypothetical, I’m gonna hypothetically sock you in the mouth.”

“But come on, Dean, think about it! The hero gets the girl, right?” Sam said, even as he angled his body away from Dean’s less-than-hypothetical fist, “But all our relationships that seemed promising have gone south, every single time! Did Chuck just...not want us to have healthy relationships?”

Dean actually relaxed, with a bitter laugh on that one.

“Can’t blame God for everything, Sammy,” he shrugged, “I don’t know what kind of white-picket-fence fantasies you got up in that giant noggin, but goin' steady? Not my thing."

He snickered, and pointed a thumb at himself. "No girl has ever been able to tie this guy down."

Sam snorted. “Pshyeah, well that’s just ‘cause you’re holding out for Castiel.”

Dean nearly swerved off the road.

Sam felt like his own BRAIN swerved off the road.

“W-w-what the FUCK did you just say?” said Dean, his voice rising to a squeak as he spoke.

Sam just gaped at the windshield, mind moving at a thousand miles an hour.

“Dude. I-I think Chuck was preventing me from commenting on it before,” Sam said, touching a hand to his mouth, “Holy shit, Dean, you have-you have no idea how much I’ve thought about saying stuff like that, then the urge just...disappears as soon as I think it. Since we’re not the focus of his story anymore, I-”

The Impala hit a pothole, and Dean swore.

“Oh, my god. I think God is...is a homophobe,” Sam said in wonder, “He never stopped you from commenting on me and Eileen, or-or me and any girl, but I’ve never been able to hassle you about Cas, which by all rights I should be able to, judging by how you two always act around each other right in front of me-”

“Can we please go back to being homophobic again??” Dean pleaded.

“No! This is my one shot, before we get our mojo back, and I gotta take it,” Sam said, steeling himself, “Now. Can we please, please talk about the thing between you and Cas?”

“No! There is nothing between us!”

“Yeah, but you want there to be,” Sam said, building up his head of steam, “And I-I’m pretty sure he does too! I may not have said much about it over the years, due to divine intervention, but by God, Dean. I have eyes.”

Dean took a deep, shaky breath.

“Look, Sam. There is nothing between us,” he said, keeping his voice perfectly level, “Nothing is GOING to be between us, and even if there was?”

He swallowed, and a muscle worked in his jaw.

“Hell, it would probably never work, anyway.”

The wobble in Dean’s voice on the final word gave Sam all the confirmation he needed, but he was a little miffed that Dean wouldn’t take the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and say it. “But-”

“I swear to that dick of a God himself, that if you keep talking about this I WILL leave your ass on the side of the road, right here.”

Sam opened his mouth to protest, or at least call his bluff, but the words died in his throat when he glanced at Dean’s face. Dean looked inches from a panic attack, gripping the wheel for dear life and staring, unseeing, out the windshield. Chuck may have directly interfered with Sam’s ability to comment over the years, but looking at the hunch of Dean’s shoulders and his white knuckle grip...he might not have needed to be so direct, with Dean. Between all of Dean’s childhood trauma, and repression, and all the shit that had gone down between him and Cas just recently...that shaky, oblique comment might be the best he could do, in terms of actually talking about it.

So Sam let it go.

Most of the way, anyway.

“Alright, alright,” Sam sighed, sitting back against the seat, “I won’t push it. But since Chuck can’t stop me right now...I just wanna say. It’s okay, Dean. It’s-it’s okay. I know we-back in the day, how we used to-y’know, joke-”

Sam swallowed, internally cringing at the fifteen-year-old memories bubbling up to the surface.

“B-but that’s not how I think, anymore. You gotta know that. It’s-it’s fine, y’know? If you’re, uhm, gay, or bi, or-or hell if you just...love Cas, and haven’t thought about that other shit at all, like...it’s fine. Just cause I haven’t said anything, doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about it, and it...it doesn’t change anything, to me.”

There was a poignant silence, inside the Impala.

Quick as a flash, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it, Dean swiped at an eye with the back of his wrist.

“Great pep talk, Sammy,” Dean said through gritted teeth, “Now please, shut your mouth, and let me drive.”

#supernatural #spn #destiel #ficlet

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zodiyack · 3 years ago

Text

Rude! (3,000+ Follower Fic Special 1/3)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female!Hopper!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Billy stuff, lyrics, fluff

Song: Rude by Magic!

Words: 1,798

Summary: Billy's love for Hopper's daughter is too strong to be stopped by the tough Chief Jim Hopper. Despite being told "not in a thousand years", he plans to love her regardless.

Note: Thank you so so much! I love you all, and writing your ideas, as well as sharing mine with you, has been so fucking fun and amazing! I'm sorry for my lack of words, I wish being an author came in handy with writing this, however, all I can say is that I love you all from the bottom of my heart. I've seen people do shout-outs, and ask-related stuff with their follower things, and I may do that, I'm not sure. For now, I hope you enjoy this... Thank you all, again!

Also 1/3 means that there will be two other fics released for the 3,000+ follower present!

Taglist: @urie-bowie-mercury, @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @dpaccione

Masterlist | Stranger Things Masterlist

"Saturday morning, jumped out of bed and put on my best suit. Got in my car and raced like a jet all the way to you. Knocked on your door with my heart in my hands, to ask you a question, 'cause I know that you're an old-fashioned man. Yeah."

Billy was freshly graduated, working as a lifeguard whilst his girlfriend worked her own job, both saving up for their chance to ditch Hawkins and move to California. Sweet Cali. Billy was excited to show the love of his life around the place he called home. Though, physically, he left the salty ocean and windy beach behind, the place never truly left him.

You could see it in his eyes. The waves crashing in his blue orbs. He swore the scent had just barely clung to his belongings; the smell of the tangy air that followed a majority of the state. Working at a pool was the closest he got to the memory of California. Chlorine was most certainly not the salted ocean waters, but with the circumstances, he decided it'd do.

The way his face lit up whenever he talked about his home...it made Y/n more and more excited to see it. His girlfriend had grown up in Hawkins, stayed there her whole life. Never once did the Hoppers leave Hawkins.

But the second that was introduced to Billy, he knew it had to change.

Although they were saving for a big move, Billy had...other things in mind with what to do with his first large pay-check (or series, rather. Working as a lifeguard didn't pay well with just one check). He began to work more shifts to make up for the money he'd spent, and one day after calling in for a day off, he decided to put his plan into action.

"Billy, stop messing with the tie."

"It's annoying." Hands slapped away his attempts of adjusting the black silk tie.

"Well it won't stop being annoying if you keep fucking it up."

For the first time in a long time, Neil Hargrove was calm. Not happy, not amused, not pissed off for some unjust reason- just calm. He wasn't wreaking havoc and he wasn't being an asshole to his son. Billy hadn't seen this side of his dad in quite some time, in fact, he thought something important was going on and he was about to fuck it all up. And then, Susan retreated to the living room with a camera and a freshly ironed suit.

"You're not putting me in that."

"And who asked for your opinion?" Neil deflected with a raised brow. One heavy sigh later and Billy was leaving the bathroom, dawning the whole black and white getup.

Susan clasped her hands over her mouth, a tear leaving her eye, "You look so handsome! Just like your dad!"

Billy rolled his eyes, "Great."

However, his careless attitude was swept under the rug when the blue Camaro pulled up to the police station, interrupting a clearly distressed Chief Hopper bickering with his daughter. Billy had to get himself together before stepping out of the car, jaw slack after seeing the beauty he got to call his date.

"Hello Mr-"

"Don't even try play nice with me, Hargrove. She's not going anywhere with you. End of story." Hopper kept his eyes trained on the blond, body tense like a snake preparing to strike it's prey.

Y/n grabbed Billy's arm, slowly directing him to the car, "And in the sequel, we find out I am going with Billy. End of that story."

"There is no 'sequel.' The writer got drunk and lazy." She paused, turning to face her father who stood tall, arms crossed and face unamused.

"So his daughter picked up where her father left off, and then the sequel was published and the two lived happily ever after, the end."

While her dad attempted to search for a line that would better hers and force her to stay, she pushed Billy toward the driver's side and slid into the car as fast as she could, rolling down the window as Billy started it up. "Bye! I'll be back before midnight!"

The two drove off toward the school, leaving behind a trail of dust and very, very, pissed off Hopper.

Prom was better than Billy thought it would be. He didn't want to go at first, but after Max found out and spoke to her mom about it (the little redhead a cupid-in-the-making), Neil pushed him to go (as he was "doing something else besides being a lazy-no-good rebel"). It was then that he called Y/n and asked if she'd be going.

The suit came in handy. Clashing with his rocker aesthetic, he put it back on once more. The once-annoying tie proved to be somewhat okay in the end.

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know. You say I'll never get your blessing "till the day I die, tough luck my friend, but the answer is no!"

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too? Why you gotta be so rude? I'm gonna marry her anyway. Marry that girl, marry her anyway! Marry that girl, yeah, no matter what you say! Marry that girl, and we'll be a family! Why you gotta be so rude?

With a deep breath, he ran-over the conversation in his head once more. Like a script for an actor, he had thought of every possible outcome and every possible line for him to face it with. He almost chickened out as his fist rose to the door, but it was too late, for his knuckles rapped against it before he realized he was even knocking.

El opened the door, eyes wide when she saw the familiar mullet and button-down. "Papa..." She muttered as she backed away and out of view.

Hopper traded places with her, his lazy expression sobering up instantaneously, replaced with a grumpy scowl. "Hargrove."

"Mr. Hopper, sir."

"What are you doing on my front porch?"

He swallowed roughly, palms sweaty against his sides. "I was wondering if I could talk to you."

"You seem to be doing just that right now, Hargrove." Hop crossed his arms and clenched his jaw.

Well, this was certainly not something Billy had thought of. He was on panic mode internally, attempting to find any response that could save his hide and accomplish what he set out to do. Unfortunately, the word-vomit button seemed to be misplaced under the button labeled "help".

"I'd like to marry your daughter, sir."

Hop's eyes grew just as big in size as El's had when she opened the door. He choked on his own surprise, coughing it off, then glaring at the boy in front of him. "Over my dead body, Hargrove. If that's all, I'd strongly advise you to get off of my fucking porch while you're still alive."

I hate to do this, you leave no choice; can't live without her. Love me or hate me, we will be boys- standing at that alter. And we will fly away, to another galaxy, you know. You know she's in love with me, she will go anywhere I go-

"Billy, he's just stubborn."

"No, no, I don't think he likes me."

Y/n sighed, rubbing her boyfriend's back. He hadn't told her of his proposal plans, only that Hop seemed to have it out for him. "It'll take time, but he'll warm up to you!"

"It's been how many years since he's met me?"

"To be fair, your reputation wasn't doing you any good until now..."

"It's not like that was fucking obvious." He slouched further down in the front seat of his Camaro. To Billy, all hope was lost. If he couldn't get Hopper to give him his blessing, he was sure he'd lose his goddamned mind.

Y/n frowned. Her frown flipped around as an idea popped into her head, her lips finding Billy's knuckles and quirking his attention. "Even if he never likes you, I'm not going anywhere."

Billy laughed softly, "he'll fucking kill me if you go against him."

"Eh, that's only if he can catch us."

"You're out of your fucking mind, Y/n Hopper."

"I know."

The rest of the night was spent in the Camaro, of course, doing one of Billy's favorite pastimes. By the time the sun rose, Billy was sneaking a kiss to a giggling Y/n before dropping from her window in the cabin and running to his car, parked far enough that Hop or El wouldn't notice. He blew her one more kiss, which she pretended to catch, then he broke into a sprint.

Maybe, he thought, just maybe; there was still a chance.

His knuckles hit the door again, shifting on his feet nervously. It swung open to reveal Hopper, an unimpressed look bringing no surprise Billy's way. It was quite expected, honestly.

"What." His tone made it clear he wasn't up for fucking around.

"Mr. Hopper, if you just give me one chance to prove to you that-"

"No, no, no, no, no. Let me make it very clear to you that I want you to have nothing to do with my daughter whatsoever. No marriage, no friendship, I don't even approve of you guys fucking or whatever-"

"We're in a serious relationship, sir. It's nothing like you think it is."

This made Hop laugh. He continued to do so, holding his stomach, until he realized Billy was unamused. "Oh, you're serious?... My answer is still no, Hargrove. My answer will always be no. Go find someone else's daughter's heart to break. You're not hurting mine."

"It's not like-"

Before he could even get the words out, he was met with a door in his face. Turned down, again.

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know. You say I'll never get your blessing "till the day I die, tough luck my friend, 'cause the answer's still no!"

Again, again, and again, Billy incessantly pleaded with Hopper. Different tactics were all met with the same answer; rejection.

He held up a sign outside the cabin, only for Hopper to close the curtain and chuckle as he sipped his coffee.

He asked at the door again, only for Hop to threaten to give him a black eye (which was met with "aren't you the sheriff? Isn't that illegal?").

He raced past the police station, Max leaning out the window with another sign, only for Hop to threaten them with holding cells.

He even went as far as to ask Max and El to help, but Hopper had none of that, and sent Max home with a rant full of nos.

However, if Jim Hopper thought any of it would get it into Billy's head that getting his blessing was just not happening- he was as wrong as Nancy when she claimed not to have feelings for Jonathan.

Billy had another plan in mind, and this one was impossible to say no to.

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know. You say I'll never get your blessing "till the day I die, tough luck my friend- but no still means no!"

"Hopper." Billy stood before his desk, interrupting his nice date with a delicious doughnut, and earning a very annoyed glare. "I got Miss Byer's blessing. Aren't you two a thing?"

"You son of a-"

"I got Eleven's too."

"Hargrove, I'm gonna-"

"Before you cuss me out, I think you should know that I've got a stable job, an interview with a mechanic so I have a job when the pool closes for the winter, and I've got a house on the market I'm looking at. I'm devoted to your daughter and she's devoted to me. You may not like me, but I think you're a great dad, better than the one I was unfortunately stuck with. You raised a strong and amazing woman. She's incredible and I admit, she deserves better than me-"

"You don't have to say that twice." Hopper huffed, crossing his arms.

"I know she deserves so much better than me, I'm surprised she's even with me too. But she loves me, and I think you can see that. I love her too. I would never, in a million years, break her heart."

Jim stayed silent for a few minutes. The silence brought uneasiness to Billy, but that was intentional on Hopper's behalf. He finally piped up with a cough, clearing his throat, before his piercing eyes met Billy's blue orbs.

"I'll hold you to that, Hargrove."

Bonus:

(after the wedding)

"What was that about a no?" Billy quipped with his infamous smirk.

"You're lucky I'm sheriff, Hargrove."

Why you gotta be so rude?

696 notes · View notes

thithesandofferings · 4 years ago

Text

“Open Wide”- Ogami Shirou x Reader

TW: 18+ MINORS DNI!! Dom!Shirou/Sub!FemReader, Comeplay, Choking, Voice Kink, Rough Sex, Praise Kink, Degradation, lil bit Size Kink SMUT!!

This is bad .

“Look at you Alan, I thought you said Purebloods didnt get Nirvalys Syndrome? Let me put in into you, before you lose your mind”

Who says stuff like that to the enemy? Ive never seen Shiro this angry before. Especially to say words like that. He barely speaks at all most days. Only when he absolutely has to. This should surprise me or- or stress me out but-

It's so hot.

Link to my Ao3 for this fic= https://archiveofourown.org/works/25414948

This is bad .

“Look at you Alan, I thought you said Purebloods didnt get Nirvalys Syndrome? Let me put it into you, before you lose your mind”

Who says stuff like that to the enemy? Ive never seen Shirou this angry before. Especially to say words such as that. He barely speaks at all most days. Only when he has to. This should surprise me or- or stress me out but-

It's so hot.

“Hey you! Look alive we gotta go!” Michiru yelled, startling me out of a downward spiral.

She was right. I had to get out of there before the place was destroyed to shreds. I could barely think. All I could think about was Shirou splitting that evil bastard's mouth open and putting his power inside it.

I couldnt help but feel jealous.

His wolf had such a presence on its own, how could I not be affected.

I needed to get it together, there were still people that needed to be saved. I shook my head and ran after Michiru towards Shirou. She was chattering excitedly, but I honestly couldnt understand anything she was saying. My eyes were on him.

He must’ve caught something in my gaze because he turned his attention to me.

“You okay?” His voice was gruff from exertion and I had to take a calming breath from the shiver that coursed down my spine. He caught that too.

“I should be asking you that Shirou” I looked away, but with a sideways glance I grumbled that he was, in fact, amazing. He raised his nose a notch, almost an afterthought, and I could see him take a deep breath.

With his penetrating gaze solely on mine, I could feel my pulse jump and my temperature rack up a thousand degrees, I had to look away. He scoffed, almost smugly, and slid attention back to Michiru, who was still talking and running around. Something about having Shirou howl to the town.

We watched as he changed into his silver wolf form again to howl into the microphone. It was a beautiful site to see. Seeing all the animals completely stop what they were doing just to howl with him. Alan had no idea what he had been talking about.

Shirou had the Howl.

Michiro and I could only watch in awe. We were born human turned animals so we didnt have the innate instinct to go along with him. It was such an eye-opening experience, so much so that I felt a little empty at not being able to do it. Shirou looked so regal, the urge to fall on my knees in front of him was an encompassing feeling.

Shaking violently at the thought, I had to blow out a long soul-suffering sigh. Michiru glanced with eyebrows in an “are you okay” motion and I could only just nod.

What is going on with me? Where are my thoughts?

I had hoped that thoughts of Shirou would leave. The attention was of us and finally life was, in all intensive purposes, back to normal. Michiru was able to hang out with her fellow friends, and I- was able to start my work in the office.

Except, I could get nothing done.

Shirou was constantly in my peripheral, working on whatever case was in that week. But when he wasnt there, he was in my mind whispering in his growling voice about the things he could do to me.

I was dying.

There would be times where I would stare at a research book, never turning the page, just staring. It was becoming so hectic that Shirou asked if I needed time off.

“I know its been hard for everyone” Shirou had said. He had been in that leather jacket again. Who wears gloves inside? Why was it so hot?

Its not fair.

“What's not fair?” I looked up from his gloved hands and I could feel my heart rate sky rocket in panic.

I said that out loud.

His gaze is so piercing, it felt like he was staring into my soul. He was leaning on my door frame, completely relaxed. His usual bored expression was placed with something that was almost- teasing? Not that couldnt be right.

But it had been the same expression and mood for weeks now. His casual bumps and grins were so much that Ive had to actively avoid him before I had a heart attack. I wasnt in control of my emotions half the time, so any sort of embarrassment would make me change into my animal form. Even through his cold demeanor, it still seemed like he was laughing at me. I'm sure he could tell that I was flustered, especially when he turned into his wolf form. It always made my blood pressure go up and something slick slide down my thighs.

Which is what was happening now.

Oh no.

I prayed that he wouldnt notice anything amiss, but the world wasnt on my side. He lifted his nose up again and sniffed. It was as if he was trying to find someone miles away, but when he finally looked towards me, his pupils were wide open. Alert.

“You never answered my question.”

There was a hitch in my breath at that tone. That growl that Ive been dreaming about for weeks.

I’m so fucked.

“I-i uhm… sorry what?” I could feel myself blinking rapidly. I couldn’t get my thoughts in order. This was getting ridiculous.

“You humans are very odd,” Shirou rose up from the door, and for a moment I felt relief only to freeze when he closed my door.

With him still inside. We’re alone.

“You even more so.”

He walked slowly towards my desk. Well more like prowled. There was intent in his walk.

I’ve never felt more like prey than right now.

“I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me” He’s whispering now. His gloved fingers gently spread out to the edge of my desk and he leans over it.

He’s so close.

“I smell you all day. Its intoxicating.” One hand lifts up and brushes my cheek, I know he can feel the heat.

“You’re the first human that I have ever wanted”

I froze.

Hes been feeling the same? From his expression and the dropping of at least two octaves, it was definitely confirmed.

“I- uh I want you too” My voice was hoarse from emotion. He could hear it just fine it seemed because if his pupils werent blown out before, they sure were now.

Shirou visibly licked his lips and I couldn’t help but follow the motion. He watched me watch him and he grinned, showing his fangs in satisfaction.

“Good because I plan to devour you. Stand up”

I could barely hear the order due to his growling. His ravenous expression was drowning me. I was swimming in heat and desire.

“I wont ask again”

Shirous’ voice snapped me back into reality and with shaky sweaty palms I pushed my chair away and stood. He never told me to move so I just stayed there. He seemed very pleased that I didn’t move.

Not like I could, I was barely able to breathe.

He stalked slowly around my desk until he was behind me, moving the chair completely across the room. It crashed into a plant and I jumped, still not moving an inch.

I could feel his breath across my nape and goosebumps coursed down my skin. I could feel him smelling my hair, breathing in the sweat that I felt that I was pouring out. I tried to move away, embarrassed, but I could feel his grip tighten and him growl at my into my neck.

“Stay still” He whispered. “You can be a good girl and do that for me right?”

I froze at the pet name. I’ve never heard him call me anything other than my last name. I couldn’t believe how it affected at me. I could feel myself become even more drenched.

He could tell.

“Oh? You like that huh?”

I felt his leathered hands slide slowly underneath my shirt and palm my breast. I gasped, my head falling on his shoulder at the groping. This was getting intense fast. I heard something tearing and tried to glance down only to have one of his hands press lightly at my neck. Holding me still.

Shirou shushed me, keeping his hand curled around my throat. Murmuring something about not needing this or that, I felt fabric fall at my feet and my chest became covered in hot leather. I let out a choked moan, only to have his grip tightened.

“You’re gonna have to be a quiet pup, you don't want all your colleagues to know what you're doing right?” He was so mocking, I couldnt help but feel flustered with how demeaning he sounded.

I nodded knowing I couldnt say anything in this position.

“Thats right, good girl, now go on bend over the desk” He slipped his hands away and disorientation readily slid back into my head.

I laid over my desk, paper be damned, and wrapped my hands over the edge to hold on. I heard him growl in confirmation at the act and I preened at the act of pleasing him.

I’ve never felt this way. I was completely ok with him taking the reigns. I didnt have many braincells left, I could barely think. All I could do was just do.

Shirou hands caressed my ass in appreciation, his ungloved hand (when had that happened?) made a purposeful track up to my waistband, hastily taking them off. I was completely soaked and hearing him swear obscenities definitely didnt help.

“I can’t wait to knot you, pup” I felt his weight against me, his bare chest completely covering my whole body. He was so warm, degrees hotter than his normal, his breath hot on my cheek as he licked my face from chin to forehead.

“The real question is,” he says through licks down my spine. “Which form do I want to take you hm?” I shivered violently at the thought of Shirou taking me in my wolf form. Outside of Anima city it is forbidden to have any of those kind of thoughts. But you couldnt help that you constantly thought about Shirou fucking you in his wolf form.

I could hear his deep chuckle at my spine. He knew my answer.

I felt him nose my wetness and my breath hitches. It didnt last for more than 5 seconds and I could hear myself grown out against the desk.

“I would love to taste you, but unfortunately we dont have that kind of time.” There was a zipping noise and I tensed, gushing even more at the thought of what it could be.

“I would need hours to be satisfied from your taste” He is suddenly in my ear. “But I plan to fuck you like you need it.”

I could hear myself mewling at the thought. I’ve been wanting this for weeks. I cant believe someone like Shirou even wants to touch me. Shirou, cool-mannered and distant, wants to fuck me five ways to Sunday is honeslty an eye opening experience.

There is a clicking sound and I gasped. I was so absorbed in my thoughts that I didnt feel the fingers. I could feel myself clenching around and my mewling became even louder. Colleagues be damned.

There was an surprised hum from behind me.

“You’ve been touching yourself?” All I could do was nod embarrassed. He cooed sweetly and added 3 fingers inside of me.

“What were you thinking about? Were you thinking of me? Tell me” I gasped in affirmations. I couldnt take it anymore. I needed inside of me now.

I felt like I was going to die.

“P-please Shiro, I need it.”

“You need what pup?” He grinned savagely and I felt something hard and hot against me.

I wiggled in frustration. Only to have him laugh and hold my hips still. Using his strength to make me stay still.

I was going to have bruises.

“Please fuck me Shirou” I whispered into my shoulder. I knew he could hear me. I felt my chest tighten at the gasp and growl.

“Good girl.” I shivered and gasped as he pushed the head in with a savage force of his hips.

“I wont hold back pup” He laid his furry chest against my back “You might be ruined for any one else.”

“I dont want you to Shirou, give me your all”

A growl was heard and then the most intense feeling of my life was radiating through my whole body.

He thrusted so hard that I could hear the desk screeching. The other colleagues, if they were still there, would definitely hear it. I prayed that they weren’t gonna check to see if I was okay. I wouldnt be able to speak anyways. I’m pretty much holding on dear life on the desk. There was no way I was able to explain anything.

Shirou didn’t seem to care either. The constant growling and heavy breathing that was coming from him was telling.

“Youre so tight, I cant believe all of me fit inside of you” He groaned and all I could do was tighten around him, which made him go even faster. There was a crack from the desk, but I ignored it. All I could concentrate on was the heat and his cock bruising my insides.

“Mine mine mine MINE” He stopped abruptly and pulled out. Only to pick me up effortlessly and turn me around, my back hitting the desk.

He entered me again and with that the world was crashing around me. I’d never come so fast in my life. Watching him in his wolf form growl over me as he pounded me into the afterlife, I wasnt gonna last long.

Seemed like he wasnt either, his thrust got more savage and I got louder. He took his right hand and placed it at my throat again to cut off the noise.

“Be quiet while I shove my knot inside you, I need to concentrate” It made me fall again, shivering while he grinded his knot inside me. He came with a roar, tightening his hands on my throat, cutting off my sound.

“Shhhh, good girl, you did so good” He whispered praises to me while he continued to grind himself inside me. He lifted his hand and I gasped dazed.

He looked up at me and caught my disheveled appearance and grinned.

“Dont move, I’m not done.”

I returned the grin.

“Good Shirou, cause neither am I”

#brand new animal #bna #shirou ogami #shirou ogami x reader #bna headcanons #bna drabble #i just live for this

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 4 years ago

Text

I Need You

A/N: This was found on Pinterest, so if you're the owner, let me know so I can give you the credits.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon X Reader

Word count: 2 K

Requested by anons: 1- I'm like super in love with a certain Daryl Dixon and I was wondering if you could write about them getting into a big argument and they like avoid eachother for a while (super angsty if you care lol) and then Carol and Rick just kinda make yall talk and it ends fluffy? 2 - Can i request a daryl x reader where the reader’s been with the group since atlanta, maybe set during when they’re at the prison?? daryl realizes he has a crush on the reader and just p a n i c s ? and just really sweet fluff????

Summary: After you almost get bit, Daryl loses his mind and lashes out on you. Tired of the constant arguments, the group finds a way to out you two together to try and fix things up.

{The Walking Dead Masterlist}

“Yer almost got bit!” Daryl shouts, voice echoing through the prison. “Yer too damn stubborn, yer not goin’ on runs anymore.” He has his back at you as you follow him, struggling to keep his pace.

“I had everything under control.” You complain, ignoring Carol's questioning stare.

You, Daryl, and Maggie went on a run earlier today. Not too far, just to get some more formula for Judith. A walker fell from the roof, and it happened to be on a specific place Daryl told you not to go. The thing's teeth got a little too close to your arm, and Daryl shot an arrow through its head.

“Ya sure did!” He stops, turning around and pointing a finger at you. “If I weren't near ya, I'd be carryin’ ya back here with a freakin’ bite.” His voice gets louder, and you never saw Daryl so... Angry. So pissed. He's scaring you. “Or would ya have me cut her damn arm off? How does that sound?”

“Stop yelling at me!” You burst out, giving his chest a push.

“I'll stop yellin’ when ya understand how stupid and dangerous that was!” He steps forward, towering over you and you never felt so small.

“We needed those antibiotics!”

“Well, I freakin’ need ya. I need ya alive! Alive and well and breathin’.” Daryl shouts, right at your face. But the moment the words come out, he stops, stepping back. He seems confused, taken aback by something. “Screw that, I need a break from savin’ yer ass.” And then, he leaves, walking fast.

Huffing, you turn around, going to your cell.

You take the longest shower you can, washing the sweat and all the disgusting things the dead left on your skin. But most of the time, you were already done, dressed, and dried. You just wanted to be away from everyone. But eventually, you have to walk out. And of course, Carol finds you on your way back to your cell.

“(Y/N), I–”

“Daryl is such an asshole.” You say cutting her off and dropping on bed. “Did you see that? Did you see how he yelled at me? As if he has the right to do so.” Getting back up you pace around.

“I just think–”

“You know what? He can go to hell.” Throwing both hands in the air, you complain. “He and his crossbow, and-and his super hot stare and the stupid angel wings vest. And the bike too. All it. Straight to hell!”

“Aren't you just–”

“Uhg! Damn it.” Crossing your arms, you sigh. “Did you hear him forbidding me to go on runs?” With your hands now on your hips, you stare at Carol. “As if! Who the hell does he think he is? My boyfriend? To hell with him.”

“Will you let me talk?”

“Sure, go ahead.” Shrugging your shoulders, you nod.

But she doesn't say anything, she just takes a deep breath and shakes her head lightly. “Look, why don't you calm down first, and then we talk.” Carol gestured at the bed and you sit down, sighing. “Good... Try to relax and deal with it after a good night's sleep.”

“I could sleep a thousand years and I'd still be mad at Daryl.” You mutter as she leaves, lying on your back with your eyes closed.

You don't know where all this anger comes from, but it's always there, waiting to flow out. You do care about him, maybe too much, but it doesn't mean he gets to yell and boss you around like that. “Asshole!” You shout one last time, arms crossing as you drown in anger.

“I saw it,” Daryl exclaims, pacing around the guard tower, breathing and talking fast. “I saw her dyin’. I saw that thing bitin’ her, tearin’ her flesh.”

“She's fine, Daryl. You don't have to keep thinking about it.” Rick tries to calm him down, both hands raised at the archer.

“No, ya don't understand.” It's useless though. Daryl is a mess. He got into the shower as soon as (Y/N) got out, rubbing the walker's blood out of his skin. But after that, he went straight to Rick because he needs to vent. He needs to yell and understand why he feels so damn scared.

Why he feels like a switch was turned on, lighting up something that was there all along, but only now was brought to light.

Losing anyone from his group, from his family would hurt bad.

But he just found out that losing her would be far worse.

“I her dyin’, man.” He slows down, both hands on his head. “I saw her dyin’ and–”

“You love her.”

“What the hell, Rick?” He snaps, a hand violently gesturing at his friend.

“You might not want to admit it, but it's true. You know it.” Rick nods, a hand casually resenting on his holster. “We all know it since Atlanta. She loves you too.”

Daryl grunts, turning his back at Rick. “Yer crazy. And so is she.”

“You should sit and talk like civilized people.”

“I ain't gonna talk to her. Crazy chick.” He mutters, grabbing his crossbow a bit tighter. “She ain't goin’ on runs anymore. At least not without me.”

“Daryl–”

“Gotta go.” The archer cuts him off, leaving the guard tower at a fast pace.

He didn't like the ideas Rick put in his head.

“Rick wants to make a room for Carl and Judith on the second floor,” Carol says as you climb the stairs next to her. “So we're cleaning up the cells.”

“Alright.” You don't really want to help. Not today at least. The nap you took didn't help much with the last issue, and you're considering going out tomorrow, just to clear your head a bit. “What do you need me to do?”

“We're just setting things up.”

“Mmm.” You mutter, running a hand through your hair as you follow her pace. Carol takes you to the very back of the corridor, to a pretty isolated cell. “You gonna put the kids here? This cell sucks. It's too–” You stop talking when you see Daryl inside, eyes-rolling. “Look, I won't help if he helps.” It sounds childish, but you don't care. You're far too pissed at the man to be near him.

“Look, I don't care if you guys argued.” Rick walks over you, friendly touching your arm. “You two just have to get your shkt together.” And you're suddenly pushed, almost stumbling inside the cell.

“What the hell?” You shout, but the moment you move, Rick pulls the bars close locking you inside. “Rick, drop it. I'm not joking.” Holding the bars, you shoot him and Carol an angry stare. “Open up.”

“There are blankets and dinner will be brought to you,” Carol says, arms crossed. “We did that because it's the only way to force you guys to talk.”

“Yeah. You'll have the whole night to figure out whatever has you both always at each other's throat.” Rick adds, sliding the key into his pocket. “Have a nice time.”

And like that, both jerks leave, talking something you can't hear. Sighing, you lay your forehead on the cold metal bars, not wanting to look at your company for the night.

“Yer can take the bed.” He says after a while.

“Obviously.” You're quick to snap. “It's your fault we're here in the first place.”

“How's that?”

“If you didn't come back from the run making a hell of a show about something that didn't even happen, we wouldn't be locked up in here.” Turning around, with both hands on your hips, you stare at him.

“If ya had listened to me, ya wouldn't have–”

“And why in the hell do I have to listen to you, Dixon? I know my way out there as well as you do.”

“ ‘Cause I jus’ wanna keep ya safe.” He's yelling again, stepping forward.

“Stop acting like I mean anything to you!” With a finger on his face, you move closer to him. You wish you could look intimidating, but being so small, that's very difficult.

“Maybe ya do mean somethin’ ta’ me! How could ya know that if ya never ask!”

“Well, I–” The answer is cut short when your furious brain processes what he just said. Furrowing your eyebrows together, you shrug your shoulders. “What do you mean?”

“Nothin’.”

“Daryl, what do you mean?” Raising your voice again, you follow him as he moves further into the cell. “What would you answer if I ask?”

“I ain't gonna answer.”

“Daryl–”

“I ain't gonna answer!” He shouts again, turning around to look at you.

Taking a deep breath, you sit on the edge of the bed, folding a leg under you. “Do you hate me?”

“What?”

“Do you hate me, Daryl?” Your voice is lower now because you do want to know.

He remains silent for a while, those blue eyes locked on yours. “No.”

“Then why–”

“I can't lose ya.” He bursts out, eyes now looking at the floor. “At that moment back there, I... I saw it happenin’. I saw ya dyin’, and I... I can't lose ya. I can't see ya gettin’ hurt.”

His voice is so low you can barely hear it. You've never seen Daryl so... Scared. Vulnerable. “You can't protect me all the time, Daryl. Accidents happen.”

“I can. I can keep ya safe if ya listen to me.” You're about to protest when Daryl comes to sit next to you, eyes on the wall across the cell. “I know ya can survive out there. But my mind works in a thousand different ways ta’ get stuff done without anyone gettin’ hurt. I need ya ta’ trust me. Ta’ believe I can keep ya safe.”

“But I need you to believe me too. To believe I can do this.” Turning your body towards him, you friendly touches his arm. “Daryl, I... I like you... A lot. And I admire you, I trust you. You taught me so much and I need you to trust me. I promise I'll be more careful, but I need you to–”

“Don't go out there without me.” He suddenly says, voice heavy. “I trust ya. Yer brave and strong. But if ya go out there and I can't keep my eyes on ya... I'll lose my damn mind.”

“Alright.” Nodding, you sigh, smiling a little. “Just don't yell at me again, Daryl Dixon.”

“Yer almost died and I... Damn it, (Y/N), –”

“I like you too, Dixon.” Standing up to your feet, you smile, looking down at him. “You don't have to say if you don't want to, just... Let's get this over with. The world is a freaking mess and if you like me and I like you we should be together.” You can't believe you're saying this, after so long. But it feels good. You feel good, secure. “Just let me know what you want.”

“Ya.”

“Me?”

“Yeah.” He nods, blue eyes locked on yours.

“Alright.” Mirroring his head movement, you clear your throat, cheeks burning. After a few seconds of silence, you walk to the bars. “RICK! CAROL! Daryl and I are dating now, can we go?” You yell, and the low chattering downstairs goes silent.

“Would it be so bad ta' stay locked in here with me for a night?” Daryl asks, and you turn around, biting your lip to hold back a smile.

“Absolutely not.” Shrugging your shoulders, you slowly move to the bed, climbing on and lying down. “I'm actually sleepy and it's cold so it'll be nice to have someone to warm me up at night.”

“Don't push it.”

“I'm not.” Giggling, you feel as he lies down, close enough so his shoulder is touching your back. “Night, D. It was good to sort things out with you.”

“Good night, pretty girl.” He mutters and you smile, eyes closing and sleep easily overcoming you, thanks to the amazing feeling of having Daryl lying next to you.

#daryl fanfiction #imagine daryl #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon one shot #daryl dixion imagine #imagine the walking dead #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead fanfiction

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