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viandclintbarton-supremacy · 20 days ago

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Do you see a lion when you look inside of me? (Mary Earps x !Earps Male Reader)

"It all comes down to penalties at the Semi final of the Champions League.

Will it be Man City or Arsenal. The fate of the game lies in Ederson's and Y/N Earp's hands"

You step up and face Grealish who was waiting for the whistle to blew. It feels like forever but the whistle blew.

He ran up, you didn't move. He was about to strike. You read it and dove to the right. The ball went to the right and landed in the firm grip of your hands

"EARPS GETS IT!" You get shaking you head in defiance. You loved Jack but he is your enemy right now.

As you watch Saka shoot against Ederson and he dove in the wrong direction......Saka missed, he missed. You shook your head before walking back

Next was Kalvin Philps, you locked eyes with him as he ran down to the ball but you frowned as you saw him chip it, You caught it with anger "WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK I AM" as you kicked the ball away. "SHOW ME SOME FUCKING RESPECT. FUCK OFF" You said walking back as Kalvin was sent packing.

You watched Gabriel take the pen and your belief shattered as he struck the post. You starred in disbelief before regaining your senses. "Time to rev it up then" You said as you notice a pattern you hope didn't continue

You saved Dias's shot

Ederson saved Partey's shot

You saved Stones's Shot

Jorginho sent his wide

You saved Rodri's shot

Ederson saved Ødegaard Shot

Haaland sent his to the left post

Rice sent his wide

You were angry, How was your team missing! You have seen them practice pens. HELL YOU WERE IN GOAL WHEN THEY DID!

The Arsenal crowd were cheering you, they showed believe in you as you keeping them in the game. Ederson was frustrated, He let only saved to but if Jorginho, Saka and Rice didn't send wide they would have gone in as all of there shots sent Ederson the wrong way

You took a deep breath, Hearing the rain fall but the drops fading from your sight as you starred at the ball, You started to loosen up as you saw Kevin De Bruyne place it down. You felt the adrenaline pumping. You were having a man of the match performance. You played over 125 minutes saving over 20 shots on goal and no balls past you. If you were able to be on social media, You would see you were trending, The Arsenal women's team, Football friends, fans, pundits were singing your praise. Especially your sister Mary. She was so proud of you in general but her reaction online made fans love the antics

You heard the whistle blow, KDB took one glance at you before he ran, You saw for a spilt second were his eyes went as he started his run. You read his body and he shot the ball. You dove to the right following the ball. You felt the contact on your gloves, You pushed it to the side. You did it! You were going to the final!......

*ding*

You layed on your front as you starred were the ball layed....in the back of the net. You did push the ball but not enough to avoid the goal post that knocked it in. You starred at the ball. The adrenaline gone, the resolve you had gone, Motivation gone. You blocked out the sounds as you felt the dreams of a Champions League winner gone up in smoke. What was heartbreaking to the everyone else, well except the city players and fans was you.

You may of been in your own shattered world but all they saw on screen in front of them was this keeper who put everything into this match and season stare at the ball with a look that shattered hearts. Even when Ederson gripped your shoulder and said "You are a hero kid" You sighed and and sat up on your knees not able to look up at him. You just looked at the ball and thought about the hard work meant nothing.

It took you 5 minutes to stand up, still looking down. You were still in your own world as you made your way off the pitch. You then heard the clapping you finally managed to look up. To your surprise there were still many fans in the seats and all of them were starring at you, clapping. Giving you a standing ovation. You felt tears coming and shook your head as you hurried down the tunnel, Still hearing them chanting your name as you walk past your teammates who didn't look at you, City players, staff. You then felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned and it was Pep. You gave him a deflated look as he grabbed your head to stay at him "Do not let this defeat break you Earps. I have seen many Keepers but you. You are the future" After a nod he gave to you and patted your back with passion. You felt overwhelmed so much is going on. You just wanted to go to sleep and be alone. You didn't bother showering you just hurried out. Ignoring the press and went straight to your car and drove in the now raining city of London.

You felt your phone vibrate but was focusing on the road, it wasn't until you got into your driveway that you looked at your phone. You saw the notifications but you felt no interests in communicating with anyone

You got indoors and dropped your belongings on the couch before heading to the bathroom. You started to run your ice bath, you couldn't get rid of the feeling that was plaguing your mind and soul right now. Once the ice bath was ready. You striped off and slowly got in, feeling the shock of the cold run through your body. You breathed out heavily as you sunk into the water, only your head above water.

It was then, in that lonely room. The thoughts came

It's your fault

Your a failure

Dissapointment

Why can't you be like Mary

You will never get a call up

You let us down

Just quit.....

Elsewhere

"Bless him" Rachel daly would say as she watched Y/N laying down on the field starring at the ball. "I just want to hug him" Millie bright said pouting.

Mary didn't respond in the room. She is on international duty and the team were watching the game. Mary was heartbroken. She knew it was your dream to win the champions league but she never, ever saw you like this. The hyper man child that was always happy and was always there for her. Now had a face with no emotion as he starred at the ball. She wanted nothing more then to hug you in that moment. But she felt so helpless being in another country. She normally wouldn't worry, You would always get up and move on but that look you had sent shivers down her spine.

She thought back to how she felt being knocked out the champions league, Losing the finals of the world cup and being knocked out the nations league. She hated the pain she felt and she hated that you were in that place right now.

"You alright" She felt a hand on her shoulder, shaking her from her thoughts. She turned to see Lucy and Leah "Just worried about him" The duo gave a sad smile. "He will be fine, Its F/N. He never stops" L praised you, She met you years ago when Mary became a England international. You were very supportive of your sister so you crossed paths a lot with Lucy and other Lionesses. And Leah was a close friend of yours since you joined Arsenal. If there was one thing they learnt about you is that you shared your sister's passion and drive. Lucy saw that 'Don't stop' attitude she has in you and Leah sees the potential of you being a captain at Arsenal.

"I will back in a moment" Mary said uncharacteristically as she left the room in a hurry. Feeling the eyes of some of the girls watching her leave. She took out her phone and wasted no time in going to her contacts and looked up your name. She wondered what to type, She knew that you may need a rest to get your head straight but she also wants to let you know, you are not alone. She starts to draw comparison to her World Cup final loss and how it made her feel.

"Mary?" Mary turned to see Millie with a sad smile. She isn't surprised that Millie followed. There were close friends, she wouldn't be surprised if Millie was concerned about you, Millie practically became your sister from another mister. "Are you ok?" she felt the woman place a hand on her shoulder. Mary sighed "I just want him to know im proud of him." Millie patted her back "He knows that maz, Give him time, He only just lost. We both know what its like after we lose big games" Mary gave a sad smile and rested her head on Millies shoulder and she decided to text you and wait for you to reply.

One day past. Then two days. then a week.

Mary was filled with anxiety and worry. You weren't responding to her calls, texts, or nothing. She didn't know what to do. She had managed to get in touch with Ramsdale, who said you were sent home for a week to cool off. When asked what he meant. He explained.

During a training session, you couldn't help but be frustrated at the boys for how they blanked you and let you down that night.

So when you were practising penalties, you didn't give a shit about feelings

Ødegaard took his shot and you saved it

"Oh wow, you get it on target," you said sarcastically, making the blonde man confused at your attitude. Ramsdale waiting behind the net couldn't help but feel worried about you

Rice took his next. He sent his wide. The boys had a laugh at his embarrassment as he showed a smile to them, accepting the poor shot. "With that shooting, I'm surprised you're a pro," you said nonchalantly as you readjusted your gloves. Rice faced showed a frown. He knew you were pissed at him, but this made him uneasy. You were always one to for sorry for themselves for a minute and then move on to the next

"What's up with you, Earps?" Martin spoke up. You looked at him. "What's up with you lot? I played like shit yesterday, and now you guys can't give a score from a few feet out." Rice, Ramsdale, and Jesus, step in between you both as you both walked towards each other. "You need to show respect, Earps," You scoffed. "Don't misplace my criticism for respect dipshit".

From there, the whole team gathered around you two. Some love it, some feeling uncomfortable, but Arteta was furious. He sternly told you to go to his room. He practically had to follow you to the room

Once you sat down, looking out to the window. He stood facing you from his side of the desk. "I get you are frustrated with what happened, but this is a TEAM GAME. You show up and treat those players like family and have their backs-" You stood up feeling the anger boil over as your face turned red hot

"HAVE THIER FUCKING BACKS!? I WAS BASICALLY THE ONLY PERSON THAT KEPT US IN THAT GAME YESTERDAY! AND EVEN THEN WHEN THEY HAD PENALTIES THEY COULDNT EVEN MANAGE THAT FUCKING TASK" You let out with anger and venom. Areteta is looking at that side of you no one would believe existed. You deep breath and lowered your voice and looked at him leaning forward, placing your hands on the table. "But the one thing that really ticks me off. The looks they gave me, the disappointment, not even coming to comfort as I sat there at the goal. Family? Fucking he'll the city players gave me more attention after that game then them and you" You ranted. Arteta understood your frustration. He even tried to ignore your city comment. Seeming he had heard certain news that day. He signed. "I'm sorry about this situation, but it's clear we can't discuss this until you have cooled down.

For the next 2 weeks, you are suspended due to your actions of unprofessional actions. " You looked at him with a" Are you kidding me, voice. You wanted to say something but you just laughed in disabelif and threw your hands up "Fuck you, Fuck Arsenal, Fuck Football" you said leaving the room. I'm leaving Arteta alone, hoping you would cool off. He looked at a contact on his phone and debated a call to someone.

Mary was stressed as she drove down the road that leads to your house

Mary's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, her thoughts racing as she navigated the familiar road leading to your house. It had been days since she last heard from you and despite all her messages and calls, you hadn't responded. She knew you were hurting, she has been here before and knows the journey of the pain. and the thought of you spiralling deeper into your own mind tore her apart.

She tried to stay calm, reminding herself that you'd always been resilient, but she couldn’t shake the image of you after the match your body laying on the pitch, staring at the ball . The look in your eyes haunted her.

Pulling up to your driveway, she parked and sat in the car for a moment, taking a deep breath. This wasn’t just any visit. This was her coming to be there for her little brother, the one who had always been her biggest supporter, her anchor in the darkest moments. Now it was her turn to be the anchor.

She stepped out of the car, the rain softly pattering against the ground. The cool air did little to ease the tightness in her chest. She walked to your door, hesitating only for a moment before knocking gently. She didn’t need to shout, didn’t need to force anything.

The door creaked open and there you were, standing with dishevelled hair, eyes dull and tired, showing you hadn't slept in days. Mary’s heart broke all over again. She could see the pain in your eyes, the same pain that mirrored her own after her World Cup final loss. She wanted to hug you, to comfort you, but she knew you weren’t ready for that yet.

“Hey,” she whispered softly, her voice trembling slightly. “Can I come in?”

You didn’t say anything at first, just stepped aside to let her in. She entered quietly, her eyes scanning your living room. It was quiet, almost too quiet, save for the sound of the rain outside. The atmosphere was suffocating, the weight of your grief hanging in the air.

You sat on the couch, head down, arms crossed, as if you were trying to protect yourself from everything. Mary sat next to you, close but not too close. She didn’t want to overwhelm you, but she couldn’t stand the silence any longer.

“Y/N I know this hurts. I know it feels like everything you worked for is slipping away, but you’re not alone in this. You’ve never been alone.”

You didn’t respond, your eyes still fixed on the floor and shuffled your feet.

“I know you feel like you failed. That you let people down. But listen to me, you didn’t. Not in the slightest,” she continued, her voice gentle but firm. “You did something incredible out there. You fought for every single moment. And I’m proud of you. You need to know that.”

Her words hung in the air, and for a split second, you looked up at her, your eyes searching her face as if looking for some kind of reassurance. But then you looked away, your hands gripping the fabric of your blanket

Mary sighed, her heart aching. She knew you needed time, but she couldn’t just sit by and watch you destroy yourself with guilt.

“I know it doesn’t seem like it now,” she continued, “but this is just one chapter of your story. And there’s so much more waiting for you. I know the pain feels like it’s never going to end, but it will. You’ll get through it, just like I did. We all have our moments where we fall short, but that doesn’t define us.”

A long silence passed between you two and Mary sat there, waiting, hoping you would speak. She didn’t push you, didn’t try to force anything. She knew how you worked, when you were ready to talk, you would. But she also knew how important it was to be there, even in silence.

After a long while, you finally spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore. I let everyone down. I let myself down. Maybe I’m not cut out for this…”

Mary’s heart shattered at those words. She could feel the weight of your pain in every syllable. But she wasn’t going to let you give up not on yourself, not on the dream you’d worked so hard for.

“Y/N, you are so much stronger than this. You’ve always been the fighter, the one who doesn’t back down. You’ve been through so much, and look at where you are. Look at everything you’ve achieved.”

Tears welled in your eyes, but you blinked them back, not wanting to show the vulnerability you felt.

“I just… I don’t know what to do,” you said, your voice breaking. “I thought I was ready. I thought I was good enough. But now… I just don’t feel like I am.”

Mary reached out then, gently placing her hand over yours. You didn’t pull away.

“You are more than good enough. You always have been. And you will bounce back from this. I believe in you. And I’m not going anywhere.”

There was a long pause before you finally spoke again, quieter this time. “I don’t know if I can face them again. The team. I feel like they’ve all moved on, and I’m stuck.”

Mary squeezed your hand reassuringly. “You don’t have to face them all at once. Take it one step at a time. And if you need me, I’m here. Always. But know this—you will heal. And when you do, you’ll come back stronger than ever.”

For the first time in days, you felt a small flicker of hope. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to remind you that maybe, just maybe, you could find your way out of the darkness. And Mary would be there, no matter how long it took.

#football imagine #england football #imagine #woso community #woso imagine #woso #woso x reader #mary earps #mary earps imagine #mary earps x reader

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cierraonline · 6 months ago

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More Than Ready

chapter one: more than ready

warning: none

masterlist | next chapter

XXX

A father holds his daughter's hand for a short while, but he holds her heart forever.

What does that mean?

I’m about to beat this old man in a game of basketball - Sasha James

“You’re not getting close to that hoop,” LeBron James huffs as he tries to block his daughter's clear path by staying low and close to her.

“Good thing I don’t need to be near the hoop to make the shot,” Sasha smirks, dribbling the ball between her legs. She pulls back and aims for a long-range shot... which goes in. “And the crowd goes wild for The Assassin!” The brown-skinned girl runs around the court, making loud cheering noises. “Thank you, thank you…” She stops mid-run, pretending to give a heartfelt speech. “As the number one draft pick, I would like to thank me, myself, and I. Because I couldn’t have done it without me, myself, and I.”

“Is that really going to be your acceptance speech next year?” her father laughs, still trying to catch his breath.

“Next year?” She furrows her eyebrows, her pearly whites still visible, but her overall expression shows confusion. “It’s my junior year, remember?” Sasha turns to her father. How could he make a mistake that meant the world to her? “You remember... the plan? I can enter the draft my junior year, be the number one pick, and get sent to play for the Sparks.”

“I know that’s what we agreed on, it’s just... maybe it’s too early.”

“What do you mean, ‘maybe it’s too early?’” She laughs, shaking her head, retrieving the ball from the bushes where it had rolled after swishing through the net. “If anything, it’s the perfect time to enter the draft. I’m projected to be the number one pick, and the Sparks get the first pick.”

“I know, but... you’re not ready,” he says, trying to come up with an answer.

“Not ready?” Sasha scoffs, offended. “My stats are higher than yours when you were with the Cavaliers, and your fans considered that your prime.”

“You haven’t even finished college.”

“I have two bachelor’s degrees, one in sports management and another in racial and gender equality. 4.5 GPAs, always on the Presidential List. I’ve interned at the WNBA, did a semester abroad as head coach for the Youth Olympic Games, and we took home the gold.” The list of accomplishments echoed through the hot California air.

“What about your master’s programs?”

“I can always finish them online, Daddy,” Sasha shook her head, not believing the excuses coming from her father. “Since when were you against the plan?”

“I’m not against the plan, baby girl.” LeBron approached his daughter, trying to offer a comforting touch. He noticed she was starting to work herself up, as she usually did when her mind entered defense mode.

“Well, you sure don’t seem for the plan,” she said, taking a step back, not wanting her father’s touch as if he were about to deliver bad news.

“You guys ready to head to the airport?” Savannah James, wife and mother of the father-daughter duo, stepped out onto the patio in a mocha brown suede tracksuit, paired with a clean pair of white Nike Air Forces.

“Baby, I called the airline and made sure they have cans of ginger ale so you don’t get sick during the flight,” said Paige Bueckers, the 6-foot tall UCONN guard from Hopkins, Minnesota, and Sasha James' wife of two years, as she entered the area with a bubbly smile.

The two women on the porch noticed the tense energy between father and daughter and decided to take the risk of finding out what was going on.

“What’s happening?” Savannah asked, her gaze shifting intensely between her daughter and husband.

“Daddy doesn’t want me to enter the draft this year!” Sasha blurted out, turning to her mother for support.

“Bron?” Savannah’s expression filled with confusion as she turned toward her husband. “The plan?”

“It’s just... she’s not ready!” LeBron defended himself, raising his voice as he often did when confronted by the women of the house. “She’s not ready to be drafted!”

Silence fell over the patio. No one knew what to say, stunned to hear such words from LeBron James himself. This was the father who always told people his kids would be drafted and playing in the big leagues. The father who said his children could achieve anything if they worked hard. The father who had seen how basketball had lit up his daughter’s eyes from the moment she first touched a ball. And now, that same LeBron James was declaring in their household that his daughter, Sasha James, wasn’t ready to be drafted into the WNBA.

“LeBron!” Savannah sharply scolded him, her tone resembling that of a mother catching her child with something they weren’t supposed to have after being told multiple times to put it down.

“What happened to my dad who used to rave to his teammates that I’d be the face of the WNBA when my time came? The dad who swore his son and daughter would play in the same city under the same family name? The dad who said, ‘Don’t get filled with rage and attack on the court, just wipe the hate away, because one day you’re going to be the number one draft pick, and they’re going to be sitting behind you wondering if their name is even going to be called’? Where’s the dad who jumped up in excitement when Bronny suddenly said he was going to enter the draft his sophomore year at USC, even though we both know he doesn’t have the stats and the recruiters aren’t confident in him yet?” Sasha looked at her father, her eyes filled with hurt. “I’ve been planning this moment since I was four. I sat on countless benches, forced to watch, study, and practice because no one wanted to play against a girl for years. You can’t say I’m not ready when my stats match yours at your prime. You can’t say I’m not hungry for it because I’ve always put in the work, on and off the court. What happened to my dad who was all for the plan and ready to make revisions when things got tough and we thought there was no coming back?” Without another look, Sasha shook her head and pulled away from the tense bubble between her and her father, heading back inside the house.

“I-I should probably go check on her,” Paige awkwardly pointed in the direction her wife went, not wanting to stay in the tense, somber atmosphere.

“The plan was for Sasha to enter the draft her junior year if she was ready,” Savannah spoke up as she watched her husband stare at the spot where their daughter had stood. “She’s been ready to enter the WNBA since her freshman year, but she compromised because we wanted her to have that college experience we never got. She’s done that and more, LeBron.” She made her way down the porch and over to her husband. “Now, if you can give me a good reason why Sasha shouldn’t enter, I’ll support your decision—no further questions asked. But you can’t say she’s not ready when we both know she’s more than ready.” She gently placed her palms on his chest, looking up to meet his eyes.

“I see and read about these powerhouse women basketball players having to march up to the league commissioner’s office, asking for what they deserve. The benefits, the salary, the promotion... And you know what those corporate people tell them, Savannah?” LeBron finally lifted his head to make eye contact. “They tell them no. They tell them their seats aren’t filling up like the men’s league, that the quality of the game isn’t marketable, that they don’t deserve equal pay to the NBA rookies because no one is watching. I don’t want to go to practice one day and see Sasha marching to the commissioner’s office, begging for what she’s worth, only to be shut down. I can’t handle, as a father, watching my daughter be told she’s not worthy when she puts in the most work. I won’t do it, Savannah. Not again.” He shook his head, lowering it again.

“And as a father, you’re forgetting who your daughter is.” Savannah lifted his head again. “Your daughter is Sasha Bianca James, ‘The Assassin,’ and she’s number one. Everyone’s been watching her since we took her to her first basketball game. And as for the issues within the league... Sasha knows about them, and she’s been fighting to change the mindset. She’s not just a player, LeBron; she’s an advocate. She’s our daughter, and we raised her to stand up for change. Her goal isn’t what yours was when you were first drafted—chasing a fast life of basketball, money, and escaping struggle. She doesn’t have the struggles we had, so that’s not her goal. Her goal is to change how the world views women in sports. She doesn’t care about the money or the fame. She cares about her love for the game, as a young woman. As a player who believed she was never going to play once upon a time.” Savannah straightened her posture, her gaze firm. “So either get with the plan or be left behind, because my baby is entering the draft. She will be the number one pick and she will play for the Sparks.” Savannah’s determined tone, filled with motherly authority, aimed to lighten the darkened mood. “Now come on, we’ve got to drop the girls back off at college in Connecticut.”

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girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 7 months ago

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tuesday again 5/21/2024

get a load of this cat

listening

one of my favorite bands, Joywave, dropped a new album last week! it is not my favorite album of theirs but so it goes. perhaps it needs more time to grow on me. Sleepytime Fantasy kicks off my favorite section of the album. video game enchanted ice cave dream sequence music.

youtube

i must stay true to my own rules for this series (not a rec series, genuinely what i've been into the most this week) and the song that's been on loop all week is a genshin impact character's theme music (punchy wolf-coded ice cop who is the duke of the prison he. runs? administers? don't worry about it). unfortunately a bop. the character music lately has been a lot more modern and experimental than i expected? this one has a police siren drop

youtube

reading

thank you mackintosh.

i really, really enjoyed Trouble And Her Friends by Melissa Scott (LAMBDA award winner 1995)! @delta-orionis and i frequently ask ourselves "what if neuromancer was good?" and this scratches that itch for me. it is often difficult for me to take neuromancer's protagonist henry seriously, but this book features a pair of extremely practical dykes. it opens on the passing of a new american law criminalizing big swathes of online activity, passed despite a presidential veto. description from amazon

Less than a hundred years from now, the forces of law and order crack down on the world of the computer nets. The hip, noir adventurers who get by on wit, bravado, and drugs, and haunt the virtual worlds of the Shadows of cyberspace, are up against the encroachments of civilization. It's time to adapt or die. India Carless, alias Trouble, got out ahead of the feds and settled down to run a small network for an artist's co-op. Now someone has taken her name and begun to use it for criminal hacking. So Trouble returns. Once the fastest gun on the electronic frontier, she had tried to retire-but has been called out for one last fight. And it's a killer.

this startled me by how fun and competent it is! i tried reading one of the author's books last year (Dreamships) and had a miserable time with the pacing and flow of information. there are echoes of the pacing issues i had with the last book-- this is a nearly four hundred page hardcover, we have a lot of Next Locations to go to, and we are going to take our fucking time getting there. a road trip book, rather than a destination book. Scott has gotten way way better at fleshing out those locations— an artists' co-op has their skylights set to amber to hide the wear and tear on everything in their central hangout space when the feds show up. i also connected with the inciting incident way more-- someone stealing a female hacker’s name and style is instantly relatable. i am riding shotgun with Trouble. i am ready to throw down with her.

it's a very physical book in many ways, bc it has three brief sex scenes, is very concerned with sensuality in both senses of the word, and overall it's like the background in an anime that’s full of dials and buttons and little blinky lights. written in 1994, fascjnating how much concepts of VR and sensory inputs have not changed, but everyone still has the equivalent of an enormous old school desktop and giant CRT monitors set up. everyone is constantly lugging around so much physical tech. the stuff that makes you better at hacking in the net is quick reactions to VR sensations, the only way to get that cutting edge sensation is to get a physical chip or “worm” in your head, and the only people who do that are the core outcasts and freaks of the internet (the gays, the women, the people of color, the all three, presumably the furries as well). from that day to this…

there's an interesting contrast between Trouble and her old partner Cerise stalking the virtual reality bazaars/being queens of the BBS undergrounds, and the danger they feel and face when moving about in the real world. some reviewers are very cranky about how negotiations on and offline feel the same but i did not feel this particular quibble. communication is communication. it is known both on and offline that they're 1) women and 2) lesbians. they're in less physical danger online but slurs can still happen no matter where they are. also, i am well used to the necessity of having to posture and peacock and be kind of a bitch to establish myself in order to get anything done in coding/hardware scenes, which is something i don't think any of the male reviewers of the day ever had to think about.

some cowboy shit goes down at the end that had me hooting and hollering, and Scott handled the hacking scenes in an interesting way-- a sort of abstracted duel? terrific "fight" scenes. very interesting at how she will move things around in order to treat scenes in ways she's good at-- like establishing very grounded locations that feel real, physical sensations, and fight scenes-- instead of just kind of slogging through a very surface level high-overview travelogue like in her last book. ive been stuck on a fic chapter for like four years and this is making me think about doing it the fun way instead of the way i thought it should be done. this may be obvious but i am an amateur and more importantly an idiot.

this was a $6/1 book special last year at one of my favorite thrift stores, a religious shop with the absolute worst vibes in the greater houston area but some of the best stuff

watching

Five Dolls For An August Moon (1970, dir. Brava). sometimes you see a cool title on kanopy and you don't have a better way to kill an hour and a half. plus it had some guys i know from cowboys. tw for a suicide's body in the first fucking ten seconds of the trailer, which is a weird trailer choice bc u don't actually see most of the murders in the movie.

ive watched a fuck of a lot of spaghetti westerns so i feel i am somewhat qualified to tell you this is one of the worst dubs ive ever seen. the lines actors are quarter-heartedly delivering do not always make a lot of sense and only occasionally match the subtitles. i am assuming this is the original dub, bc kino lorber generally does a pretty okay job restoring things?

youtube

this is not a good movie (extremely troubled production, director swap three days before filming, made on a shoestring budget, the actors mostly wore their own clothes, etc). it is not very good at maintaining tension, because it is a film that first and foremost Looks. beautiful fucking sets, beautifully decorated. the exterior is a matte painting, a sort of frothy dream-bubble of sixties architecture. most of the interiors are apparently a real house. incredible experimental burbling soundtrack full of Weird Sounds.

sorry about the tubi interface and our old friend the activate windows logo.

there are so many fun directorial flourishes and staging, but it does get a little wrapped up in itself. this made me think of The Secret of NIMH, a beautifully animated talking-animal film that gave me nightmares as a child, where the animation tricks and sparkles and moving parts sort of all get in each other's way to produce something less than the sum of its parts. this sort of happens here. i'm going to yoink this from a review:

Bava’s eye for exquisite compositions is equally evident. One scene in particular stands out in this regard: The filmmaker shoots an otherwise humdrum fistfight through wooden latticework that breaks the action up into an abstracted mosaic effect. The fight culminates with a table being upended, which in turn unleashes a myriad crystal spheres. The camera follows along as the spheres tumble and cascade down a spiral staircase and roll across a tiled floor before plopping like so many bath bubbles into a tub. The scene concludes with the revelation of a recently deceased character caught in what you’d have to call a tableau morte. It’s a dazzlingly orchestrated sequence, easily on par with more famous Bava set pieces.

it's gorgeous! there's also So Much going on. another lovely bit of business: as each person dies they get wrapped in plastic sheeting and put in the walkin freezer. next to slabs of beef. not a subtle film, and i don't mean it as a diss, bc where's the fuckin fun in that?

playing

i have not been doing much of anything here except listen to podcasts and work toward the two-thousand-fish-caught achievement in genshin. impatiently waiting for Clorinde to be released in several weeks. that one button needs a raise. it is So funny to see genshin characters with fucking guns. very sword and pike based societies so far

making

every time i have tried to make one of these samplers for Me it's gone horribly wrong or been somehow destroyed so i'm making this one for my brother's upcoming birthday, bc he will have off-campus housing next academic year, in an attempt to peacefully do some fucking cross stitch and get something out at the end of it. pattern here on etsy

#tuesday again #tuesday again no problem #Youtube

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emblemxeno · 6 days ago

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It's a toxic mindset I shouldn't have, and when I usually speak against it when I actually think my thoughts through before I open my mouth

My brain's first response to seeing 3H fans is to second guess whether or not they're Fire Emblems fans or just 3H fans

I don't know what response to expect from this, but I don't know?

Bouncing thoughts off people is good for self-reflection?

I actually think writing it out is a good venting project, so you're alreday doing something productive with it in my book. Whether or not it's sent to someone is another story.

I've gone back and forth on whether I should or shouldn't engage, but for as much as it's been verifiably detrimental to my mental health, I just cannot ever let go of the fact that 3H/Edelgard discourse has been a net negative on the FE community specifically and I need people to hear my screams. Like, just a week ago, I got linked to a guy getting death threats and called the r-slur in his Twitter dms for hating on Edelgard and I'm like...

These people aren't having normal, polite conversations and it's fucking annoying and gross, and we have to share spaces with them out of "civility" ughhhh.

#fire emblem discourse #edelgardiscourse #queue

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moe-broey · 2 years ago

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Before I post anything else actually I have a VERY IMPORTANT PSA

(context, Alfonse and Sharena are Emblems here and it's a continuation of another goofy thing I made featuring them w this AU)

Transcript under cut!

Emblem AU

Sharena: "ALFONSE you ASSHOLE"

(scribbly and jagged "Huh?!" from Alfonse)

Sharena: "AS OF gen 7, Flareon AND Salazzle are the only fully evolved Fire Types who can't learn Solar Beam!!"

(Dialogue outside of talk bubbles) Alfonse: "DAMN it!! A grave oversight..." (BONK effect as Sharena punches him) "do you HATE women Alfonse?!" Alfonse "What!! No!!"

Alfred: "THIS is BLATANT Incineroar erasure!!!"

Céline, in rambling text: "also recent additions are Cinderace and interestingly enough Ceruledge -- its counterpart Armarouge can, meanwhile Ceruledge learns Solar Blade via move reminder"

Bullet point reads: *Physical counterpart to Solar Beam, introduced with Lurantis

#fire emblem #adding to my sharena swearing hc actually. the og hc i had was she's the type to say a swear word Once #and then feel so so soooooooo bad about it and makes a promise to herself she will NEVER say that EVER again #without any outside influence she's just like that. updating this thought though part 2.#she VERY occasionally swears ONLY if it's funny. scares the shit out of alfonse any time it happens #also i feel like clanne and framme could have worked here or alfred and clanne (clanne infodumping) but.#i love celine....... 🥲🥲🥲 and honestly she's lowkey autistic about tea. so. i think it translates.#(idk if that's a hard and fast hc i have but like i have no other way to describe it LMFAOOOO)#i have to play more engage.......#fe alfonse #sharena #fe alfred #fe celine #my art #ADDITION ACTUALLY I REALLY WANT ALFONSE AND CELINE TO BE FRIENDS TOO.#i find it SO fascinating and funny that the firene siblings are like the askr siblings but in reverse.#heroes was SO RIGHT to establish an alfred/sharena friendship but i think they can go further.#ALFONSE CELINE FRIENDSHIP WHEN HEROES!!!!!!!!!!! ON MY KNEES BEGGING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#also yes i did go out of my way to look this up on serebii dot net. i don't think i missed any? if i did sorry!!!

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maynope00 · 1 year ago

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FE Artscuffle will be held from Nov 22 to Dec 30! 🎉🎉

This is an art trading game where members of a Discord server attack each other by writing or drawing Fire Emblem characters.

Sign-ups will open on Nov 8. Please check out our info doc here if you'd like to know more c:

Some new additions:

Introducing critical hits! During sign-ups, users may choose to submit their weak point. In other words, their number one favorite thing (eg. a ship in a certain AU or fairly detailed scenario). Including someone's weak point in your attack will award you with a bonus multiplier!

We'll be hosting a few other special events that can net you bonus points, such as character birthdays and a themed week ✨

#fire emblem #claude von riegan #ignatz victor #fe artscuffle #fe3h #fire emblem event

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acronym-chaos · 21 days ago

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Deity of Technology, Logic and Fear ID Pack

[PT: Deity of Technology, Logic and Fear ID Pack].

[ID: A purple thin line divider shaded at the bottom. End ID].

Names

[PT: Names].

Aetherion, Algorithmus, Archvane, Axon, Cipherus, Datara, Digiton, Eidolon, Eltrex, Facade, Fractalyn, Ghostline, Hexatrace, Ideon, Infranoir, Intellectra, Logicor, Machinus, Noctilume, Obfuscara, Omnivex, Paradox, Quorith, Requillium, Singulae, Synthane, Technair, Thalestra, Thoughtus, Ultronis, Vastoria, Vexel, Vigil, Xorath

Pronouns

[PT: Pronouns].

Byt / Byte / Bytes, Code / Codes / Codes, Da / Data / Das, Dre / Dread / Dreads, Fe / Fea / Fears, Grid / Grids / Grids, Info / Infos / Infos, Know / Knows / Knows [Knowledge], Li / Link / Links, Ne / Net / Nets, Sha / Shad / Ado [Shadow], Sig / Signal / Signals, Tec / Tech / Techs, Tho / Thought / Thou, Vo / Voi / Void, Wire / Wires / Wires

Titles

[PT: Titles].

Echo of the Cyber Void, Master of Synthetic Knowledge, Shaper of Logic Itself, The Ciphered Deity, The Mask Beneath the Machine, The One That Commands with Fear and Logic, The Entity That Sees All Patterns, [Pronoun] Who Knows All Yet Hides It, [Pronoun] Who Rules the Infinite Dataflow

[ID: A purple thin line divider shaded at the bottom, End ID].

Requested by anon!

Also tagging: @id-pack-archive

#id pack #npts #npt pack #npt #npt list #names pronouns titles

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slashycassy · 1 month ago

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•TF2 SNIPER X OC

PILOT CHAPTER: "Rifles and Baccarats"

AN: There we go with the pilot of this story i hope you will enjoy it. This chapter is mostly to introduce the lady of the story but also to set up a plot that we will use later English is not my native language please excuse my mistakes Trigger Warning: none, just some very light suggestive description Word count: 2,100 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

March, 1987

The night is young, golden crescent moon in the sky, little to no cloud and a soft chill wind passing in the air. Chatter and laughs are heard from the main room of the casino, warming the place. Fizzy wines, soft jazz and the clicks of glasses and heels are the soundtrack from this sweet evening at the “Royale”.

Most of the people there are seated are the tables, playing cards and gambling. Tonight’s great entertainment: The Roulette. The tiny bead rolling over the red and black numbered tiles, gaining gasps of anticipations, groans of defeat and cheers of victory.

The other tables were busy too, masters of card games, especially Poker, were testing their most efficient strategy to ensure the most successful combination of strong cards.

The men were mostly the one gambling in the hot and glamorous atmosphere of the casino, wives and maybe mistresses around them, blinded my the money they could offer them.

Non-players were scattered around the casino, the bar counter almost full of fortunate guests, the smoking room less crowded but still allowing smokers to chat among themselves.

Tonight is a special night, it is the Casino’s fifth anniversary since the owner changed, Mann Co had finally conceded this old building in downtown Santa Fe, previously being the Builders League United weapon warehouse, leading the land to go on neutral grounds between the two teams, in theory.

Today, the “Royale” is known as one of the most prestigious casino of the southern states, after the ones in Las Vegas and Los Angeles, not only for the quality of the place but also because of its owner. That loud mouth, strong minded, landlady that made her way by herself in the game industry. She is as hated as loved by a lot of people, some idolize her, some envy her.

It was a rare sight. It was not everyday a young french immigrant woman could made such a journey through success this quickly, especially in those times. She had arrived in New Mexico five years prior with money, ambition and the will to become someone: a true believer of the American Dream who believed just right.

Her appearance might have helped a bit, some describe her as a “Siren for success, luring everyone that could be helpful to take her to the top”.

With a puff of tobacco-scented smoke, she is looking at the moon, leaning on one of the balconies’ railing. Her face shows nothing but indifference to the party going on inside her place. She’s too used to that, and it is becoming boring and uninteresting, but it’s also important for her to keep the casino busy with the elites having fun.

Well, the said-elites are the mostly the ones making those parties “boring and uninteresting”, all of them acting as snobbish as they can act, flaunting goods they don’t even need.

She maybe looks like them, by the way she dresses, the size of her house or by her net-worth, but she can’t help kind of despise them, because unlike them, she knows how to stay humble. She was taught to be.

She takes one final drag of her cigarette, dusting the last ashes in the nearest ashtray and sliding her stilettos heels back one before returning inside. The once muffled noise is now returning to her in full volume.

Carefully going down the stairs to the main room, she gets a few astonished looks from the latest guests. Taking in how her long sleeveless red velvety dress was hugging her skin, how her neat black hair was falling on her shoulders. The tattoos on her arms and back on display. She puts on her polite smile.

She grabs a flute glass of a purplish sparkling drink from a silver tray held by a waiter. Seeing him now holding an empty plateau, she kindly dismisses him, allowing him a little break. She walks in the crowd, smiling and waving at the guests. She’s heading toward a very particular room of the casino, where her ‘special guests’ were waiting for her.

On her way, she makes the time for small talks with a few polite people that interrupted her walking. One of them was a tall older woman in a purple suit, she had congratulated the red-wearing lady for how much of a success this evening was. With a thank and a handshake, they parted their way, but the landlady could still feel her eyes in her back.

The French girl finally arrived at her destination, a private lounge. A bar and a single bartender were stood at the end on the room. In the middle sat a large poker table, with seven men around it six players and one dealer, playing cards. Their wives were quietly chatting, drinking and now eyeing the European entering the room, they kind off keep and suspicious feeling about her, because of how close she was to their husband.

“Messieurs*”, she says, the french word rolling on her tongue, alerting the men of her presence.

“Ah! Here is our lady!”, one of the men shouts.

He had ditched out his suit’s vest, to be more comfortable. He passes his hand in his grayish hair to comb it a bit.

“Good evening to you too, Mister Richards”, she responds with a heavy french accent that she cant’ get rid of, going to shake his hand.

She then looks at the other men and greets them one by one. “Raileigh, Oswald, Sinclair, Salvador, Decaro..” They were the other Casino owners of the southern States, big bosses in the game industry, her included, being the only woman.

She then turns to the wives.

“Ladies”

They answer with a polite smile.

She looks at the dealer and dismisses him. He stands, nods and leaves the lounge. She then sits at his place.

“You don’t play?” Salvador comments.

“Please, sir Salvador, the owner doesn’t play in their place, you told me so”, she adds with a playful wink.

She distributes the card to them, playing the dealer for them.

The play was going on well, lots of money were dealt and lots of drinks were downed. She stays focused, arbitrating the business men. The seven of them were talking about work and some partnerships and maybe organize a tournament, maybe in Las Vegas.

She notices the suggestive looks she gets from her male associates, how one of them was discretely touching her feet with his own under the table.

“All in for Sir Decaro, any calls?”, she announces.

“Fold.”

“Fold”

Sinclair raises the bet.

The mind game between Decaro and Sinclair began as she examines the two men. One of them a good player, the other is only here by luck. Decaro reveals his cards.

“Three of a kind for sir Decaro”, she declares

Sinclair sighs, a mischievous grin on his lips as he reveals his own cards.

“And a Flush for sir Sinclair, making him the winner of this game”, she adds, while Decaro was starting a fight with Sinclair, calling him a cheater.

She kicks a the annoying foot under the table, glaring at Oswald for his disrespectful behavior, knowing his wife was behind him, so was his mistress in the main room of the casino. She swears this man’s only wish is to have her knelt before him, giving him an oral treat. He’s a perverted men. Like her other colleagues in the room, but they were more subtle about it. God she hates them.

Being a business lady was an incredible job, but her associates were.. let’s say.. pains in the ass, but it was the routine after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moon is still fully in the night sky, but the scenery is not the same. The same wind feels cooler than before, no lights to be seen in the badlands. Some coyotes are howling their guts out to prove they exists.

Well hidden in a secluded plain area, some laughter are heard coming out from a building. Eight men are enjoying their victory from well-fought battle against competition. Here was the Reliable Excavation Demolition team, also known as the REDs. This team was composed of nine mercenaries, each of them an expert of their class, making them strategically balanced.

They were enjoying a nice game of card with a few beers, their chatter a symphony of multiple accents.

The youngest of them was throwing a tantrum against the wisest who had removed his construction helmet, blaming him for his obvious defeat in the card game, while the alcoholic one was drunkenly making fun of him for being a ‘cry baby’. Around the table were sat two other of the nine men, a tuxedo wearing one, smoking a cigarette and clearly annoyed by the young man's behavior, next to him, a gas-mask wearing one, they never really know who this one was, they just knew that he? She? Them? Whatever. This one liked to set things on fire.

In the same room, on the couch watching a quiet show, were sat three other men, the tallest and broadest one, a glasses wearing one, dressed in a white dress shirt, a beige vest and a red tie. They were pretending to listen to their loud colleague, his iron helmet covering his eyes but to the other mercenaries’ dismay, not his mouth. He was rambling about a certain Sun Tzu and how he said a lot of war-related stuff.

The eight of them.. eight? Yes one is missing.

The last mercenary of the team could be considered as an introvert or a loner, someone who enjoys his times alone. Even if every one of them had a room for themselves in the base, this one prefers to stay in the intimacy and quietness of his van.

That night, he had decided to trade the evening with his teammates with a tranquil wandering in the dark badlands. He had parked his camper next to a nice spot and had started a little campfire outside of it, to keep him a little warm in chilly weather.

He was cleaning his beloved rifle, piece by piece and humming a song by The Who, coming from his van’s radio. He had a solo mission coming up, the contract laying next to his sitting form as he looks at it from time to time. It was a simple elimination, nothing more, nothing less, something he already did a thousand times since his beginning as a mercenary. He knew how immoral this job was, his parents kept on reminding him, but at least he could win his life the best he could.

He brings a cup of coffee to his lips and sighs after taking a sip. The song changes to a Beatles song.

He starts to reassemble his rifle with precision and professionalism, he is after all, a professional. Once his rifle was back in one piece, he took his stuff and went back inside his camper van, closing the door and letting the campfire slowly die in the cold badlands air.

He locks himself inside before removing his boots and climbing up on his makeshift bed, laying on it and observing the ceiling of his van. A few photos were glued to the little walls of his ‘bedroom’, some of his teammates, his parents, one childhood photo of him holding a wooden bow, and some animal pictures he took in the Australian Outback.

He picks up his pack of cigarette, takes one and lights it, opening the little window over his head. Taking a drag of it, he looks at some magazines he had next to his bed, a lot of animal and wildlife magazines, some guns and rifles ones and a two or three.. private ones. Maybe he could peek into those later.

Finishing his cigarette and crushing the end in his ashtray he yawns. Maybe he should have stayed with his colleagues for at least one game and a beer. They aren’t mean to him, he actually enjoys spending time with them, but sometimes they are a bit too much, too loud, too annoying.. He was just used to loneliness, even in battle when he stays nested up on a tower for sniping, he stays most of his time alone. And he likes it.. right?

With a final sigh he removes his brown pants and takes off his red shirt, tossing them down the floor of his camper van, leaving him in his white tank top and boxers to be more comfortable of the upcoming night of sleep he will certainly oversleep.

Being an assassin was indeed a good job, but sometimes it gets quite boring, alone with his thoughts. It’s the routine after all.

(*messieurs = gentlemen)

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wjehfshs · 2 years ago

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So Imma SIMP for Avatar:way of the water and call of duty MWII so I thought maybe some headcanon of call of duty reacting to Na'vi reader that has dark blue skin due to a genetic mutation.

Like they were taken from their home got sent to earth but they escape and are now on earth trying to find away back home.

and the task force 141 end bumping into you during their night mission and maybe reader saves them but causing reader to get injured.

Also do this when you have some motivation and don't stress yourself buddy

I love this idea I love it when people combine fandoms

Na’vi reader + cod characters reacting to reader (141 + Köing, Keegan, Horangi, yes Ik Keegan is from a completely different game but I love him sm I needed to add him) reader self sacrificing, combined fandoms, Omatikaya reader, reader has a skin mutation. This genuinely had to be one of my fav requests ever, I had so much fun writing this I think I got carried away, a lot of swearing, violence

You where Na’vi, one of the forest people, although the Omarikaya had dark skin, due to some genetic mutation you had darker skin than normal

You fought in the first battle against the sky people aside Jake Sully and Neytiri, you saw their first born Neteyam, then they adopted Kiri, then they had Lo’ak, and then Tuk.

You where good friends with the Sully family, that’s why when the sky people returned as Avatars, they targeted you

When you where out hunting they caught you in a net and sedated you

The next thing you remember was waking up on a ship (let’s just pretend it doesn’t take 5 years to get back to earth anymore they developed new technology or smth)

You looked through the bars of your cage, you new English fluently due to being part of Graces school and Jake teaching you more after Graces passing

It had been weeks until you finally landed, they handcuffed you and walked you back to their base

During your time on the ship they did experiments and surgery’s on you, you don’t know exactly what you did but after tests you found you could breathe human air now

You where like their lab rat

After some time they threw you into a new enclosure and returned to their human forms

You knew this was your chance

You stole some keys from a guard, unlocked your cage, and booked it for the nearest exit

You ran until your legs hurt

You found yourself at a military base

It was crowded with men in gear

You hid behind the building and tried to find food

CRACK. Shit. You had stood on a branch

“What was that?” A man with a funny accent and cloth over his head said

“Let’s go check it out” another one said with a blander looking version of an ikran helmet over his eyes, you had heard Norm talk about them sometimes, sunglasses? You think they where called

You tried to run somewhere but everywhere was blocked

Before you knew it the funny cloth man had spotted you

He had his gun raised at you

“Holy fucking shit what the fuck is that?!”

He pressed a button on some device on his clothing, it made a static sound, maybe a device to talk to other people? Like those special necklaces Jake and his family had

“Get the fuck out here in the back, everyone. Now.”

The sunglasses guy had his gun also raised at you in a defensive stance

You had learnt from Jake that if anyone where to point a gun at you, to raise your hands and look as harmless as possible

I mean it wasn’t like you could do anything, the sky people took your weapons

You where crouched down in the dirt, hands up, head down, ears flat on your head

Soon all of these other men ran out here, hands on guns, worried looks on their faces

“You’ve got to be kidding me” a man with darker skin compared to the others and a funny hat on his head with some, flag? On the front of his hat. “This has to be a fucking dream” he stammered

The man with the cloth seemed to be the tallest but compared to you, he was nothing

“Who are you?!” Another man with a wide brimmed hat and weird facial hair said

You opened and closed your mouth trying to speak but it felt as if there was a string in your throat holding the words back

You where shaking, your heart beating fast as you struggled to keep yourself from falling over, even if you where crouching

There seemed to be nine men looking on at you as if you had 20 eyes (Gaz, Köing, Roach, Alex, Price, Ghost, Horangi, Keegan, Soap)

Finally the words came to you “I’m [name] I. I was taken by the sky people to your star. I, I mean no harm.” You said in a thick Na’vi accent, almost on the verge of crying

They all looked confused, sky people? Star? Was there something they didn’t know?

All of them seemed to take note of your three fingers, tail, ears, and most importantly, blue skin

“Stand up. Now” a man with a skull mask said in a heavy unrecognisable accent

This was their first mistake, asking for you to stand up

You gingerly complied and straightened out your body

That’s when they saw how unbelievably tall you where

This didn’t help the situation as they where already scared of you, but now seeing how tall you where it only made them more defensive

“Bloody fuckin’ Jesus” a man with shaved sides and spiked hair mumbled

They took you inside with their guns still pointed at you

When you got inside they locked the doors and windows and ushered you to sit down, on a table.

You sat eyes still fixated on the cold ground as the pain in your feet started to kick in

Earths ground was a lot more painful than Pandoras, a lot more sharp objects in the ground

“Ok well first of all we don’t know who or even what the fuck you are” the brimmed hat man said

“But, we’ll introduce ourselves. I’m Price, this is Ghost, this is Keegan, Köing, Horangi, Soap, Gaz, Alex, and Roach” he ushered towards each of the men as he said their names

“Now you gotta explain what the fuck you are doing here” he said, almost angry

You took a deep breath and steadied yourself “I’m [name] I am from the star Pandora, or as I think you call it, planet? I am part of the Omatikaya clan, the forest people, I fought in the great battle agains the sky people with Jake Sully, we where victorious however the sky people returned and captured me, I am their prisoner…”

They where all silent for a moment “…ok, well… Jesus what am I supposed to say” Price mumbled the last part

“Sir, if I may speak freely, I think this, thing, is being serious” Gaz whispered to him

“O-oh I am Na’vi, that is my species I think it’s called”

“What the fuck how did you hear that” Gaz was astonished how you heard him whisper that

“Oh well us Na’vi have heightened senses”

“Oh. I see”

“Ok uh, look, what are we supposed to do with you lad/lass?” Soap asked

“I apologise, I had escaped from the sky people and I ran here. I did not mean to cause you any harm” you said almost ashamed

“Ok who the fuck are ‘the sky people’” Keegan asked frustrated

You took a moment to remember the word “ah! Humans, I mean humans, they came down from the sky when they attacked us”

Suddenly they heard a crash from outside

It was the sky people coming back to retrieve you

Immediately everyone grabbed their guns as you had to duck and weave under the roof and doors.

And so the attack begun

As everyone was shooting at the cars and helicopters you panicked and thought of what to do

You noticed a man trying to sneak up on Price, immediately you ran up behind him and attacked him, biting his neck and holding him down

All Price could do was watch on in fear, I mean you where this unknown creature who just showed up and now your ripping a man to pieces with your bare teeth right in front of him

That wasn’t to say he wasn’t grateful you saved him but he was still scared

Before he could process anything you sprung into action asking him if he had a bow and arrow anywhere, he ushered towards the archery room and you bolted towards there, grabbing the biggest one you could find

It was still too small but it was the best you could do

You ran to the back of the building where Keegan and Ghost where catching there breath and without batting an eyelid, you climbed up the building onto the roof

Shooting at the sky people the best you could with everyone else shooting at them

You finally beat them

It was over just as quick as it started

It felt like it happened in a heartbeat

Blood was all over the front area of the Barracks but at least everyone was safe

You all gathered back inside as everyone was sweating and breathing heavily

Ghost finally spoke up “I don’t know if anybody else saw it but that [name] just fuckin’ climbed onto the roof and shot those people dead with a bow and arrow alone” he seemed stressed but grateful

They all seemed to notice the blood residue on your mouth as you wiped it off and licked the rest of it off

While everyone else was on the brink of passing out, you where just fine, completely calm and collected.

Maybe a little shaken up but that seemed to be it

Price looked at you, “Thank you, for earlier? If it wasn’t for you I’d be dead by now” he gestured towards you as he said this

You couldn’t help but let your tail move up and down when he said that, you felt appreciated.

He took notice of the gashes on your body as blood dripped down your torso, but you seemed to not notice somehow?

The question was, what to do with you now?

#avatar the way of water #avatar x reader #cod x reader #cod #cod mw2 #cod ghosts #avatar #avatar the way of water x reader #multifandom

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