#he is the most confusing person to tag because those are all alias' he uses but also other peoples alias' | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gilverrwrites · 26 days ago

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I could love you

A lot had happened today that you hadn’t expected. You hadn’t expected to buy a whole new dress, a pretty, glittery one with strappy shoulders and a moderately low neckline, but you’d really hit it off with this guy from Tinder, and you kinda wanted to impress him. You’d been looking forward to it all week, which is why you hadn’t expected it when he ghosted you, standing you up and blocking all your socials. What an ass.

You also hadn’t expected to bump into your co-worker Barry Allen at the restaurant. He’d insisted on joining you. Despite your initial objections, you’d had a really nice time, in a strictly platonic way of course. You had no romantic interest in Barry, but he sure was easy to spend time with, his nerdy nature, and affinity for bad jokes had genuinely lifted your spirits. At the end of the night, he’d walked you home, thanking you for letting him crash your pity party. He said he rarely got to sit down to properly enjoy a meal and good company. You can believe it; you've never met another man who's somehow always rushing, yet somehow still perpetually late for everything. In turn, you’d thanked him for saving you from the embarrassment of eating alone and taking your mind off the sting of rejection before giving him a goodnight kiss on the cheek and heading inside. Which is where the biggest surprise was waiting for you.

By the door, you instantly hang up your bag and kick off the new shoes that had been grating your toes all evening before negating your way to the kitchen to store your doggy bag, using nothing but the low light that seeps through your windows, not bothering with the big lights. When you turn to head for the bedroom, you’re not expecting to find the ominous, yellow blurred silhouette of a man in your doorway or it’s two red, glowing eyes that pierce through darkness.

“Did you enjoy your date?” His voice billows through the room, bouncing off the tiled walls and echoing in your ears. It’s almost comical, this formidable, inordinate, spirit-like intruder, standing in the darkness, quizzing you about love life. You’d laugh if you weren’t scared stiff.

“Date?” You eventually question, voice meek as you attempt to tiptoe back from him, but before you can finish a single step, he crosses half of the distance between you, moving at impossible speed and that’s when it clicks, who he is. Professor Zoom, The Reverse-Flash, The Man in yellow. The media had many names for him, but nobody knew his true identity. What you can’t figure out, however, is why he’s here, and why he cares about your ‘date’.

“Yes.” As he speaks, his shape begins to take form, sharpening into something more human. The leather-like fabric of his suit clings to a powerful frame. The red of his eyes grows even more sinister once you catch sight of his black scleras. He smiles at you, rather unsettlingly with full lips. “Did you have a nice time with Barry Allen? Did he charm you with his stupid sweater and outdated jokes?”

“What? He did- we-” He takes a step closer, and you avert your eyes from his uncomfortable gaze, rapidly searching for a weapon, or an escape route, but really, what can you do? What could you grab, where could you go that he wouldn’t get to first? You’re caught in a trap, and he knows it, that’s why he’s taking his sweet time, languidly, confidently treading closer, watching you sweat. Though you feel utterly ridiculous explaining this to him, you do your best to answer his questions. “It was nice, but it wasn’t a date!”

“No?” His tone oozes amusement. He chuckles, it comes deep from his chest. If you weren’t scared witless, it might have been a compelling sound, but he’s close enough to touch you now, and you shake as he reaches a hand out, taking the skirt of your dress between his thumb and fingers to play with the fabric. Those unnerving eyes tracing over your body, following the curve of your hips, the dip in your cleavage. “You dress like this for all of your non-dates?”

In an impulsive burst of anger you make to slap his hand away but he beats you to it, letting go and leaning back against the nearest counter long before you reach him.

“Do you love him?” He asks point blank, and the absurdity of it strikes you.

“No!” You answer without hesitation. It’s the truth, and hopefully what he wants to hear. “What are you even- “

“I don’t believe you.” He interrupts with the shake of his head.

“I don’t care if you believe me, it’s none of your business but it’s the truth! He’s just a co-worker.” You plead but he doesn’t appear to be listening. Instead, he’s nosing through your cupboards like he owns them, leisurely poking around until he finds a mug. In the blink of an eye your kettle is boiling, and a herbal teabag sits waiting at the bottom of the cup. How long does he plan on being here? “Why do you even care? What do you want?”

He doesn’t answer, so you continue to attest, each of your statements met with a ‘tsk’ or the shaking of his head. You go round and round in circles, Zoom apparently content to drag this out as long as it remains entertaining for him, knowing that you know, there’s nothing you can do to be rid of him until he’s good and ready.

“Credit where it's due though, Bar.” He finally turns to you once more, eyes roaming your frame again between sips of what must be scalding hot tea. “He has good taste.”

The compliment, while peculiarly gratifying, does nothing to soothe your anger and fear. It’s becoming more and more clear to you that whatever he’s here to do, this is about Barry. You’re just caught in the crossfire. There’s no way for you to win, but you shoot another, pointless shot anyway. “I don’t love him, I swear.”

“Maybe not yet. But you will.” His self-assurance continues to intimidate you. You know it’s useless but when he steps toward you again, you step back, all but cowering as he seethes.

“Unless I stop it from happening. You can’t give your heart to Barry Allen.” He states, and before you can even process his assertion, you’re overcome with debilitating pain. Intensely sharp, and arching, like nothing you’ve ever experienced before, all emanating from your chest. Looking down you see his arm, yellow and blurred, buried in your torso, literally clutching your heart in his hand. “Not if I take it first.”

This is the part where you beg for your life, but you’re too overcome with panic and pain to utter more than a quiet and shaky. “Please.”

His body is moving at such a fast pace that it’s near impossible to make out his features, but you could swear he’s smiling as he watches you panting in pain, trying your best not to move a single muscle for fear of what it will do to your body. Smiling at the quiver of your lip, at your fear-stricken expression, at the glassiness of your eyes as they begin to well with tears.

You do well not to flinch as he leans in closer, but he must feel the way your heartbeat quickens between his fingers. You don’t even wince when you feel the strange, wet tingle of his tongue rolling up your skin, soaking up the salty taste of a stray tear that had trickled down your cheek.

“Please.” You try once more. Taking his aberrant actions as a sign that maybe there is a slither of hope, that you could still find a way out of death. “I don’t- I could never love him.”

Steady and deliberate, you lift your arms attempting to touch him, to lay your hands on his shoulders but they phase right through, and result in a bitter laugh.

“I could love you thought!” Hurriedly you take a stab in the dark, internally praying your false declaration might appeal to him. Might convince him to prevent your supposedly inevitable love for Barry by becoming the object of your affections instead. “He means nothing to me, but you could mean something.”

The moment his arm leaves your insides, you heave a loud, excessive sigh of relief, your whole body falling slack even as he grabs you, bunching up the cleavage of your dress and using it to pull you flush against his broad chest.

“Could you now? You don’t even know me.” He doesn’t seem at all convinced, but the fact that he’s asking bodes well for you. It bids you time if nothing else. His breath is hot and sweet against your face, and he watches you intensely as you try again to touch him. This time you succeed, nodding your affirmation as you graze your fingers along the black and red emblem between his pecks before resting them on his shoulders with deliberate casualness. “Why would you fall for someone like me?”

“Because… you’re better than him.” He’d insulted Barry before. Sure, Barry is nice, but you don’t care enough about your co-worker to defend his honour when your life is on the line. Maybe if you can appeal to Zoom’s ego by putting Barry down you can survive this encounter. You must be onto something because he hums his approval, tilting his head to the side until your knuckles brush his bristled cheek. “You’re smarter, stronger…”

“Faster?” He chimes in, a smug smile on his lips.

“Yes, of course you’re faster.” You agree, stretching up to nuzzle your nose into his neck. “I could love you so much.”

Though you’re certain he could have stripped you naked in an instant, he chooses instead to thread a finger under the strap of your dress, slowly trailing it from your shoulder. His brows are hidden behind his hood but the look in his dark red eyes is evident; hungry and expectant. “Okay, I’ll bite. Prove it.”

You hadn’t expected to get this far, but you comply with his veiled demand, leaning back to finish the job. Tentatively, you pull down the other sleeve, shimmying your dress down until it falls to the floor and pools at your feet, leaving you exposed to The Reverse-Flash in nothing but the matching underwear you’d picked out this morning. You’d been hoping to get laid, but you’d never expected it would happen like this.

He must like what he sees, because the haughty expression on what you can see of his face falters to a softer, more genuine one. His black and crimson eyes widening as he takes you in.

“Did you wear those for Barry?” You’re sure from his tone and the quirk of his lip that he’s teasing, but his face is hidden enough to cast doubt, and you don’t want to get stuck in a loop again, so you don’t answer.

“Will you- ?” You gesture to him hesitantly, unsure if you should even ask. He seems taken aback by your request at first, eyes narrowing as he watches you but to your surprise, he complies, pulling his cowl back to reveal a face you don’t recognise. You hadn’t really expected to know him, you can’t imagine ever interacting with anyone like him in your day-to-day life. He is, however, far more attractive than you’d expected, with a strong jaw and nose, pronounced cheekbones, dark brows, and striking pale blond hair. “You’re certainly better looking than him.”

“I know.” He doesn’t seem boastful, but before you can stew on it the clasp of your bra falls lax, and you automatically catch it by grasping your breasts. Zoom is watching you keenly, brows raised. “Your turn.”

“Kiss me first.” You push, he’d already given you what you’d asked for once, you’re curious to see how much more he’ll give you.

“Aren't you needy?” You catch the playful role of his eyes before he puts his lip on you, and he’s not shy about it, immediately snaring your lips in a heated, open-mouthed kiss. He kisses you with an intensity you haven’t experienced before. Your teeth scratching his tongue as he greedily tastes you, overwhelming you with his sweet taste, with the pressing of his tongue on yours and the feel of his domineering fingers on the back of your head, holding you in place.

It's like he’s consuming you. In the throes, you lose yourself, letting your bra drop before returning his embrace, moulding yourself into his torse and wrapping your arms around him. The sudden pinch of his fingers on your nipple takes you by surprise, and he rumbles appreciatively when you gasp into his mouth.

His second hand releases your head in favour of kneading your other tit, and once more he does it at such a pace that you suck in another breath, pulling back to watch as he massages your chest with unrelenting but pleasingly pressure. You chance a glance up at him and catch him watching, entranced at the way they move and ripple at his punishing touch. Selfishly, you catch his mouth again, and he lets you, closing his eyes as he enjoys your lips once more.

But the moment is short, not done playing, he grips both of your nipples at once, pulling them harshly and swallowing your pained moans, ignoring how your fingers dig into his arms until he’s satisfied.

“Do you love that?” He asks mockingly, but his tone is low and breathy. Your eyes travel down his body, finding a noticeable tent in his suit.

“Yes.” You answer. Love might be a strong word, but it certainly made your clit throb, and you’ve already been throwing it around tonight.

“What about this?” He punctuates his question by slapping your tit, hard. The sound reverberates around the room, making your ears sting half as much as your breast. It hurts like hell but in a way that makes the rest of your body feel flushed and excited. “Huh?”

He follows it up with another hit to the other side, alternating until your back is against the kitchen counter and your cries of ‘Yes! Yes, I love it!’ sounds more like begging than praise.

When he ceases his assault, you’re abruptly overcome with dizziness. You feel light-headed and weak, and the sensation is heightened by the feel of his mouth on your skin once more. Roughly he kisses and bites at your throat, his hands forcefully grabbing at the softest parts of you. When you start to come too you realise the cause of your unexpected vertigo. With his speed he’d lifted you off your feet, stripping you of your panties and placing you at the counter where you’d be eye-to-eye level with him were he not dragging his teeth along your stomach.

Eager to appear valuable, you thread your fingers in his hair, urging him back up to kiss you again, and allowing you access to run your hand down his stomach until you’re palming the hard bulge at his crotch. He ruts against you, his chilling eyes rolling back before closing. You’re not sure how to free him, but that doesn’t stop you fumbling, looking for a clasp or a zip, anything, but the moment comes to a standstill when you both hear your phone ringing in the other room. It only distracts you for a second before you continue with the job at hand. You assume he won’t allow you to talk to anyone, to send some kind of distress message but you’re proven wrong when he holds the screen to your face.

It's Barry.

“Answer it. Put it on speaker.” Zoom tells you.

Cautiously you take the phone from him, unsure how to proceed. “But- “

“Answer it.” He repeats, prying your other hand from his clothed cock and forcing it to your chest. “You can tell him all about how you’re falling in love with somebody else another time. Just act like everything is normal.”

Still cautious, you bite your lip as you press the answer button, fingers shaking as you fiddle to put him on speaker and finally say; “Hello.”

“Hey, it’s me!” He sounds chipper, like himself. Completely unsuspicious. Why wouldn’t he be? “Sorry for the late call.”

“It’s okay. I- It’s okay…” You trail off as you watch Zoom. He’s observing your every move, but his hands are between your thighs, squeezing them as he guides them apart.

“It’s just that I texted you when I got home but didn’t hear back. So, just checking in.”

“Oh, sorry. I gOTT…” Any normality in your voice is lost when Zoom pushes a finger between your slit. “Distracted.”

You laugh awkwardly, unsure what excuse to use, and Barry good-naturedly laughs back, unaware that Professor Zoom is now pushing a second digit between your lips, grinning like a fucking manic as he moistens them with your slick and begins gliding them over your sensitive clit. How will you ever look Barry in the eyes again?

“Yeah. I’m sorry, but I’m fine, I’m all goOOOD.” You can’t handle this. To alleviate the pressure, both mental and physical, you sit back as best you can, putting distance between you and Zoom, but it doesn’t slow him. If anything, it motivates him more.

“Are you sure? No offence but you sound a little off.” Barry couldn’t offend a- something. You can’t even finish the metaphor, because as he asks, Zoom picks up his pace, far past anything non-meta-humanly possible. His fingers act like a vibrator.

“Yes! Yeah! Yeahyeahyeah. I’m totally fine.” You blag, legs shaking as you try to temper the tension growing in your centre. Zoom’s chest shakes, not from speed, but from containing his laughter. “I’m just sooooooo tired.”

“Yeah, it is late.” Barry agrees, but he still sounds sceptical. “Listen, I won’t keep you but there is one thing I wanted to talk to you about.”

Now? Did it have to be now? Just when you thought Zoom couldn’t possibly make you feel any better, he changes things up, keeping you on your curled toes by sinking his two fingers into your tight walls. Your body puts up no resistance, greedily sucking him in, convulsing around him when he presses his thumb firmly onto your clit.

You close your eyes, intoxicated by the rush of being filled and touched by his euphoria-educing hands until he pulls back and swats your clit, bringing you back to the now. He greets you with a scowl when you open your eyes, nodding his head toward your phone where Barry is calling your name.

“Are you still there?”

“Yes. Sorry!” You answer quickly, before you lose your bearings again. “I’m half-asleep. Can we talk at work?”

“I’d really rather do it now, I’ll make it fast.” He laughs like he made a joke, and you don’t get it.

You don’t care to get it. All you care about is whether the shoe is going to drop, and if it will happen before Zoom makes you cum all over the countertops. He reinserts his fingers inside you, but he’s thrusting in and out of you so fast you’ve no idea how deep he is at any given time. They seem to be everywhere and nowhere all at once.

When it becomes evident, you’re not going to reply, Barry continues. “That guy who stood you up today was a total jerk. Whoever he is, he doesn’t deserve you.”

You’re too focused on keeping a moan trapped in your throat to even think about the vindication of Barry confirming that your date tonight was not with him.

“And I had such a good time with you.” He stops speaking, a natural opening for you to say something.

Zoom had said to act normal, so you sputter the first thing that comes to mind. “I had a good time too, Barry.” Although, you’re not convinced you sound entirely lucid as you force the words out between gritted teeth.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” God, will this phone call ever end?! “Are you sick? I thought your food looked a bit off. Do you need me to come over?”

“Yes, no. I’m fine, go on.” You urge. Already you’re impatient to hang up, but your intolerance multiplies tenfold when Zoom’s garish yellow suit disappears before your eyes. Unveiling his muscular body. Instantly your eyes are drawn to the dark blond hair on his chest, and you follow its trail down his stomach, your jaw falling slack when you eye his erection.

“Okay...” Barry still sounds dubious, but he carries on, nonetheless. “What I’m getting at is that I’d like to have dinner with you again.”

Zoom offers you reprieve, and though you’re grateful, you can’t help the anguished grunt that escapes your lips when he retracts his fingers from your needy cunt.

“Or not.” You’re only half paying attention to Barry, fixated on the way Zoom runs his length between your pussy lips as he had done with his fingers. Gliding the tip up and down, teasing your clit and entrance in turn. But having experienced what Barry is going though only hours earlier, you sense the burn of rejection in his quip.

“No. No, Barry, that was. I- I stubbed my toe.” You hurriedly tell him, practically shouting, too worked up to control your vocal cords. It’s like you’re being pulled in two different directions. “You want to have dinner with me?”

“Yeah, but on purpose. You know?” You don’t know, in that second you only know the delicious, bittersweet ache of Zoom’s cock as he gradually begins fucking into you, stretching you out no more than half an inch at a time before purposely pulling back out, making sure you feel every inch of him over and over as you keep tripping over your tongue down the phone. “Like as a date.”

Simultaneously, you both stop. Zoom watches you blankly as you begin to panic, all the fervid heat in your guts freezing over as you grasp at the frazzled straws in your brain for an answer that won’t get you killed. No? Right? The answer is ‘no’.

“Oh, Barry. I don-“ You pause when Zoom shakes his head frantically at you. You’ve never been more confused in your life, but when he starts to mouth the word ‘yes’ at you, you repeat it. “Yes. I mean yes. Yes, let’s do that.”

“Yes?” Barry repeats.

“Y-ES.” You confirm, just as Zoom returns to burying himself inside your folds, abandoning his shallow, teasing thrusts, in favourite of plunging into you completely. You feel as though you’re being split open. Heedlessly, you wail down the phone and arch your back up into his waiting arms. You don’t know if Barry is taken aback by your enthusiasm or if he simply didn’t hear you for some reason, but he says nothing, so you hastily try to excuse yourself, voice breathy and jittery as Zoom begins to rock in and out of your tight pussy. “Really excited, b-but I really sh-OULD go.”

“Okay, okay, yeah, I’ve kept you long enough. We’ll sort the details out at work?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” You rush along. “We’ll talk then, bye-bye, goodnight.”

You hang up before he can say anything else, dropping your phone on the worktop and throwing your arms around Zoom. You have questions, but not one of them matters to you right now. You’re just starting to find a rhythm, supporting your weight on his sweeping shoulders so you can grind in time with him when you’re overcome with light-headedness again.

One second, you’re in his arms, and the next you’re half-laying on something soft and blinded by light.

“Look.” He commands, and you squeal when he slaps your stomach, but you force your head forward to look down at his hand, blinking until you can make out what’s going on. He’s still standing, pounding into you from above. Your ass is elevated on the arm of the couch, your back bent at an awkward angle that allows your head and shoulders to rest on the cushions. “Do you see that?”

His hand is pushing into your abdomen as he fills you over and over. You’re practically seeing stars, but through squinted eyes you make out what he’s talking about. Every time he bottoms out, your stomach bulges around the crown of his cock. You’d only ever seen this kind of stuff in porn, your head would spin if it wasn’t already.

“You ever been fucked this deep before, hon?” Zoom asks, sarcastically emphasising the pet name.

“No.” Your voice is barely a whisper, and you push out a strained moan before you repeat yourself at what is probably too high a volume. “No, never ever. Only you.”

“You love that?” He’s goading, but all it does is rile you up even more.

“Yes, Zz-Zoom!” You answer. He scoffs. Once again, he moves your body before you notice, hiking you further up the arm and when you feel him rut into again, you have to grab a pillow, have to let out some of the frantic energy that’s thrumming through your body. It hurts, but you love it.

“Eobard. My name is Eobard.” He tells you, far too coherently when compared to yourself. You barely register that it’s because of his superhuman abilities.

It just doesn’t feel fair that he has this power over you. To make you wither and scream, to make you feel so fucking feral with so little effort on his part. You don’t say that. You don’t even take the time to sound out his peculiar name, almost immediately murmuring it amongst a slew of desperate whimpers. “Eobard. I love it. I love it. I’m so close.”

“Not yet.” He instructs, and you dig your nails into the pillow that much harder, determined to please him. Your grip grows painful as he leans over you, his hand travelling down your chest until it cups one of your still sore tits and his face is as close to you as it can be in this position. “Look into my eyes.”

You can barely keep your lids open, but you do it as best you can. His red iris’ suddenly don’t seem so scary. Piercing, yes, but captivatingly so. You say as much, under your breath and to his great amusement. “Y-you have such striking eyes.”

Though he gets a good chuckle out of your sex-fuelled infatuation, he doesn’t dwell on it. “Do you love me?”

Do you love him? Not ‘could you love him?’ Do you love him?

No. You’re not a fool. A good fuck doesn’t equal love. You’re only fucking him in the first place to save your life, but you can’t say that. The question should instil you with fear, the same, if not more so than when you’d first discovered him lurking in your home. You certainly don’t feel safe, but fear doesn’t grip you in that moment.

“Yes.” You lie. And once the word leaves your lips, you feel your walls begin to tremble around him. Or maybe he’s trembling, moving so fast inside your drenched cunt that the climax you’ve been fighting pushes back at you, slowly trying to seep through your body. It’s impossible to tell. It takes all your willpower to hold on, and you focus your energy on insincerely professing your love to him. “I love you. I l-l-love you, Eobard.”

“Do you think Barry could fuck you this good?” He presses, sharp smile on his plump lips, knowing full well what you’ll say.

“No, no never. Only you.” You abandon the pillow, stringing your fingers in his hair so hard that he swears aloud. You’re not too far gone to not enjoy finally seeing him weak for a second, but you don’t stop appeasing him. “B-Barry could never. No Barry. Just you. I only want you.”

“I love to hear it.” His smugness only encourages you.

You nearly let loose when he moves you again, shifting you so that you’re sitting upright on the arm. You’re too faint to support yourself, so he holds you close, one hand on your waist the other on your shoulder blade, his face nestled in the crook of your neck, but you don’t have to hold back for long.

“You can cum now. Do it, cum all over my cock darlin’. Let it all out.” You do just that. Body trembling, vision blurred, fists clenched as he fucks you through it. You swear he picks up his pace, if as much is even possible given the already excessive amount of speed he’s exerting to make you lose your damn mind.

“I love you.” You coo one more time, when you grow completely limp. Having ridden out your orgasm, his frenzied thrusting suddenly becomes painful, but not unpleasant. It wouldn’t take much at all to drive you over the edge again.

When Eobard registers your calmness, he slows. The tempo must feel relaxed to him, but to you and anybody else, he keeps hammering into you at a relatively fast pace as he loosens his hold on you, putting enough space between your forms to allow him space to lean down and kiss you. Not caste, but soft. He peppers your dazed face almost sweetly, and though he hadn’t told you at any point that he loved you, you could almost believe him if he did.

The moment doesn’t last long however, it ends when he releases you all together. You fall back onto the couch unceremoniously, and with a near-comical thud.

“My turn.” He grins. You don’t feel him pulling out of you, but you feel the force of him slamming back in, this time from an entirely different angle. With the arm no longer between you, he mounts one foot on the couch, posing your legs precariously over his.

He’s barely even fucking you at this point. More, so, fucking himself with your body, and though it feels good, good enough to lose yourself to him a second time, the fall offered you enough of a grace period that something clicks in your brain as you watch his thick cock repeatedly disappear inside your pussy.

“You-you’re not wearing protection!” You can’t see yourself, but you imagine you must look like a deer in the headlights. Eyes wide, frozen but for Eobard rocking. The sound of your bare skin slapping together suddenly seems much louder.

“What’s the matter?” He quirks his head to the side, not a care in the world for what you just said. “Don’t you wanna start a family with the man you love?”

The question short-circuits your brain. No. But yes. You do not, but you’ve been telling him whatever he wants to hear all night.

“C’mon, honey, say it.” He urges, upping the ante, and your turmoil by pressing a rapidly shaking finger to your clit. Pumping harder when your eyes go soft and glassy once more. “Go on, you’ve come this far. Beg me to put a baby in you.”

Already you’re close, too close, but you can’t find it in you to give him what he wants this time. His legs feel solid and meaty under your hands as you reach for them, slapping his shins as though you’re trying to tap out, but he doesn’t let up. Despite your reluctance, you’re whimpering so softly for him, reluctantly enjoying the infinite waves of hot tenderness that blooms in your cunt with every brush of his finger and snap of his hips.

“C’mon, c’mon, I’m almost there. You can do it.” He coaxes, and his tone is so much softer than it had been all night that it almost gives you a new form of whiplash. “Just say ‘Please Eobard, fill me up. Please make me pregnant.’ And we can both cum.”

“P-please.” You can’t believe you’re doing it, but as soon as the first word leaves your mouth, he increases the pulse on your clit. The instant gratification motivates you to carry one. “Please Eobard, fill me with your cum, I want it.”

You know you’re not saying the right words, but you don’t care, your brain is too fried to recall them.

“Good girl, you’ve got it.” Eobard praises. “Keep it up.”

“I wa-want to have your baby, please. Please cum inside me.”

“Oh yeah. That’s the stuff.” He pulls out, just enough for you to catch sight of the gooey, white cum spilling from his tip. A glob of it spills down your folds, and he rubs its warmth into your clit as he pushes his length back in. “Gonna pump you so full of cum, you’ll still be leaking on your date.”

You understand his words, but you have nothing to say. Couldn’t if you wanted to. The combination of his cock driving into you, and his fingers working your swollen bud has you blissed out. Your body is overcome with ecstasy once more, cunt milking his load for every drop as he finishes inside of you.

The remorse of your actions doesn’t settle until he pulls out, causing his now quickly cooling cum to dribble out of your folds, running down your upturned stomach until you muster the energy to lay flat. Eobard isn’t stood beside you anymore, and your eyes search for him.

He wasn’t there a second ago, but upon your third pan of the room, you find him sitting in your armchair, sipping a glass of water. Of all the things he could have been doing right now, that wasn’t what you’d expected. You’re not convinced he won’t still kill you, but he points to a second glass on your coffee table and the doggy bag you’d brought home. You eye them wearily.

“Eat up.” He instructs. “You’re going to need your energy.”

You are hungry, but his actions still strike you as strange. When you sit up, more cum leaks from your gaping pussy, and it sends a chill up your spine. When you look at Eobard again, he’s smiling, enjoying your discomfort, maybe? Whatever the reason, he looks devastatingly good. The post-nut clarity has done nothing to cleanse your attraction to him.

“What’s your plan?” You ask before sipping your drink. You just want to know where you stand now. Does he really expect you to date Barry? After he’d been so aggrieved by the very notion? Is he going to use you to get close to him? Or did he still plan to eradicate you long before Barry's plans come to fruition?

“My plan?” He repeats, feigning offence. “Aren’t we in love?”

It’s your turn to ask. “Do you love me?”

He laughs at your question, turning his head and rubbing his neck. No. Obviously,

“I could love you.” The closeness of his voice makes you jump. He’s moved in the blink of an eye, now sitting beside you, draping an arm across your shoulder and directing your fatigued, still naked form to rest on him. “I could fuck the woman I love in every room of her home, on every surface. I would touch every inch of her body, inside and out. In places she didn’t know could be touched. I could take every hole, till she’s bursting at the seams with my cum.”

You haven’t touched your food. How could you? Not when you’re strung up in him, hanging on his every word. So, he does it for you, ripping into the container, stabbing a cold piece of veg with the wooden takeaway fork and bringing it to your mouth. You don’t want to eat, but you do it anyway, letting him spoon-feed you until all the scraps are gone.

“Why?” You ask when he’s done. A lot of whys run through your mind, but just one answer would satiate you for the time being.

“Because…” He pauses. When you look up at him, he stares back roguishly. He’d stopped on purpose so that you were angled just right for him to kiss you. You melt into him as soon as his lips meet yours, not even shying away when his fingers possessively curl around your neck. Squeezing, not hard enough to affect your breathing, but enough to remind you that he could. When he pulls back, his eyes are half-lidded, and lust-riddled as he whispers. “I’m not just going to take your heart before Barry can. I’m going to take everything.”

Hey you! You deserve the world!

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morporkian-cryptid · 3 years ago

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Today in "Elliott's Niche AF AUs": one (1) person asked me about this, sooooo...

Lupin III Discworld AU crossover headcanon pile thingy!!!

For those who don't know: Discworld is a flat world held on the back of four giant elephants on top of a giant turtle, floating through space. That world has magic, as well as trolls, dwarves, goblins etc... but in a way that's meant to subvert typical fantasy tropes.

Ankh-Morpork, the biggest city on the Disc, is a hotbed of crime, innovations, and innovations in crime. It is run by a council of guilds, and by a Patrician (a lifelong tyrant; he's elected by the guilds but he has the final say in everything). Notorious for having an Assassins', Thieves', Beggars', and Seamstresses' (sex workers) Guilds. Also notorious for its Watch (the police), which is actually surprisingly good at solving crimes. It's also the biggest immigration destination on the Disc.

Character backstories/situations:

Lupin : half-quirmian-half-agatean (Quirm being the DW equivalent of France), grew up in the Agatean Empire (DW equivalent of China/East Asia). He moved to Ankh-Morpork to follow Fujiko, and/or to escape Zenigata. He’s an illegal thief (meaning he's not registered with the Thieves' Guild), and his favourite hobby (besides just stealing in general) is screwing with the Guild. Commander Vimes, the head of the Watch, is supposed to catch him (or at least help Zenigata catch him), but he's secretly rooting for him because he dislikes the Guild slightly more than he dislikes Lupin.

Jigen : son of a couple of Agatean immigrants in Ankh-Morpork, grew up as a street urchin in the Shades (the most crime-ridden neighborhood of the notoriously crime-ridden Ankh-Morpork). He joined the Assassins’ Guild later in his life as a (mostly self-taught) sharpshooter, with a talent that outshone that of the Guild's best students. He later quit the Guild after he met Lupin (possibly had a contract to kill Lupin, and decided “screw this I’m going with him”). He can use any kind of shooting weapons, but favors crossbows. He’s tried stealing and using the gonne (DW's first and only firearm); it didn't go well. He somehow managed to learn one single spell from the wizards, the fireball, by becoming pals with Arcchancelor Ridcully (wizard, head of the Unseen University, and famous for his unfortunate passion for crossbow shooting).

Goemon : agatean immigrant/fugitive, master swordsman. He left Agatea because Fujiko stole his Zantetsuken and fled to Ankh-Morpork, so Goemon had to follow her to retrieve his sword. He then met Lupin and Jigen and decided to stick around. The Zantetsuken is a talking sword, and its personality is basically the embodiment of Bushido. It's extremely annoying (like all talking swords), but Goemon loves it. (it was probably his only friend back in Agatea)

Fujiko : agatean immigrant/fugitive. Ran away from the Agatean Empire chased by Goemon. She joined the Thieves’ Guild, but everyone confuses her for a seamstress because her technique usually involves seduction. She tried it on Vetinari once. It failed spectacularly.

Zenigata : agatean immigrant, part of the Empire’s police force, who came to Ankh-Morpork chasing Lupin. He only brought his assistant Yata with him, and has to cooperate with the Watch to have resources to catch Lupin. Vimes doesn’t particularly like him, but he’s good at his work so he can’t say anything (they're both too stubborn to get along).

Bonus:

Yata: Zenigata’s assistant, came to Ankh-Morpork with him, rapidly became great friends with Rufus Drumknott (the Head Secretary of the Patrician, Lord Vetinari). He has a bad influence on Drumknott. He also befriended Captain Carrot Ironfoundersson, but then again Carrot befriends everyone.

Ami: She's a clacks operator. Clacks are basically the DW equivalent of telegraph. There's a group of clacks hackers called the GNU, so she might have joined them.

Albert: He's part of the Patrician's Dark Clerks (they're the secret services of Ankh-Morpork)

Rebecca: She's from Quirm. That’s all I have about her for now. (Quirm's the equivalent of France, but in the french translation it was made into an equivalent of Italy)

Random-Ass Headcanons

Lupin gets along like a house on fire with Moist von Lipwig (former conman and current postmaster, notorious adrenaline junkie), both figuratively and literally. Lupin and Lipwig sometimes team up on heists and rely on each other’s help, when they’re not busy competing against each other because Lupin keeps daring Lipwig to thieving competitions.

One of the contests’ goal is to steal Vetinari’s manuscript, The Servant. Fujiko wins. She wasn’t even in the race.

///

Fujiko quickly became friends with Adora-Belle Dearheart (Moist von Lipwig's rather explosive girlfriend), they get together every now and then to trash-talk their respective boyfriends.

///

For some reason everyone thinks Lupin is a werewolf. (it’s actually Jigen)

(maybe. I haven't yet decided whether or not he is. That would be a very good source of angst, considering what most werewolves are like, and also a very good source of domestic fluff if the whole gang has to adapt to the moon cycle and Jigen's transformations. Idk. Might be fun.)

///

Fujiko owns a horse golem (a gift from Adora-Belle or something she stole, we may never know). The Gang also owns a carriage, modified with a spell so it will drive faster, and they drive it completely carelessly. It has been destroyed and rebuilt countless times. (actually a bunch of spells, Lupin probably found a way to blackmail Ridcully so he could mod the shit out of his carriage. Or they rely on Jigen’s friendship with Ridcully)

///

Lupin uses swamp dragons as firearms (dialogue courtesy of @marquise-de-clarabas: Jigen: You stole a dragon??? Lupin: I didn’t steal him! He’s his own person and can make decisions himself! Dragon: I wanna steal). He has an alias and disguise entirely dedicated to visiting the Sunshine Sanctuary For Sick Dragons, and somehow became friends with Lady Sybil Ramkin-Vimes (Commander Vimes' wife, and the greatest expert on swamp dragons in the city, probably on the Disc). Vimes doesn't know about it, and Lupin finds the whole situation hilarious. He constantly makes jokes about how he’s playing with fire.

///

The Thieves’ Guild and the Watch are competing to catch the Gang, but secretly Vimes is rooting for the Gang (the Guild just hates them). That said, Vimes also hates Lupin (only slightly less than he dislikes the Guild), because he's always a little shit whenever he gets put in jail, and then he immediately breaks out.

///

Rincewind (famously bad wizard with a shit luck and a tendency to run from problems) once got arrested by Zenigata, because he got startled by him yelling LUPAAAAAAAAAN! and started running for the hills, making Zenigata believe he was Lupin in disguise. Rincewind is terrified of Zenigata.

///

Zenigata is actively trying to stop the Thieves' Guild from catching Lupin and Co, both because he wants to catch them himself, and because he knows what the Guild does to illegal thieves and he doesn’t want it to happen to Lupin.

///

Lupin stole Ridcully’s hat (custom wizard hat with a bunch of pockets, drawers, a crossbow, and a tiny flask of alcohol) as a gift for Jigen’s birthday. He also stole Lipwig’s hat (golden cap with dove wings), after which Adora claimed she didn’t recognize Moist (dialogue courtesy of @marquise-de-clarabas: Moist: C’mon babe, it’s me, your boyfriend! Adora, knowing full well who he is: I have never met this man in my entire life). He also raided the Assassins' Guild's armory/museum to get a birthday gift for Goemon.

///

About Jigen and the gonne (spoilers for Men at Arms) : basically, the gonne being such a dangerous and destructive weapon compared to crossbows, it has a nigh-magical attraction on people, and awakens and strengthens whatever lust for power, vengeance, blood etc they have. It basically controls its user and feeds on their convictions, addictions, wants, etc. The only person known to have resisted it is Vimes (because he's a stubborn mofo with a sense of morals you could bend iron on), and even he came damn near to losing his mind. (And Carrot, because... he's Carrot.)

Assuming the gonne didn't get destroyed in this AU: after they steal it, Lupin tries to use it, gets completely possessed/cursed (again) and accidentally tries to murder his friends (again), prompting Jigen to take it from him. Jigen then gets possessed as well, and they start fighting for the gonne, until Goemon just walks in, takes it out of their hands and takes it away. Goemon's completely unaffected by the gonne because 1) of his ascetic training and 2) "it is a filthy morporkian artifact and cannot compare to the noble art of the sword."

///

Zenigata often teams up with Angua (resident werewolf of the Watch), they get along very well. The Gang is very easy to track, they smell like a tobacco factory that has caught on fire.

///

Yata and Drumknott (Patrician's head secretary, and confidante, sort of) get together after office hours, and argue about whose boss is the best (because as we all know they both have a crush on respective bosses). One day Drumknott accidentally calls Vetinari “Sempai” after he heard Yata call Zenigata that all the time.

///

Lupin follows Lipwig’s example and steals all of Yata’s pencils every time he visits the Pseudopolis Yard (the Watch's HQ). Drumknott is fuming when Yata tells him about it.

///

Leonardo Da Quirm is butt-naked, because Part 4.

///

Something with vampires, probably.

///

tagging @carriagelamp and @mad-whoman-with-a-book00 because I know you may be potentially interested in this AU ^^

#lupin iii #lupin the third #discworld #ankh-morpork #terry pratchett #lupin iii discworld au #already making a tag in case i make more posts; you never know #the hobbit's headcanons

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flying-nightwing · 4 years ago

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Damn Him

Hi, this is average af but I needed to post something. You’ll probably be disappointed lmao. Anyway, enjoy some Dick Grayson content!

More on my masterlist, pinned as a top post!

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader

Word count: 4798

Warnings: None

Summary: Dick Grayson never seems to say the right thing around you, and it’s not quite for the reason you initially thought

You looked up from your book when your cellphone vibrated on your desk beside you. You were in the midst of studying for your last exam of the semester, so you had your phone on a strict do not disturb schedule, which meant it remained on 24/7. Your notifications were blocked for any social media, text or calls you might receive, well, except for your one emergency contact: Bruce Wayne. He knew he was supposed to contact you only if he had no other choice but ask for your help, and never had he even used that card ever since you knew him. Reluctantly, you put down you book and marker to switch them for your phone. Turning on the screen, you ignored the various hidden notifications, focusing only on the single line that stared back at you.

Call me when you can - B.

Sighing, you unlocked your phone and pressed the contact name, then the phone icon next to it. It rang twice before Bruce picked up.

"(Y/N), how are you?"

"A bit stressed out, but it could be worse" You replied truthfully. "What's up?"

"I hope you know I wouldn't do this if I had any other solution" He began. "But I need your help on a recon mission, almost all my effective got busted last night"

"Oh my, are they okay?" You frowned with concern, even if he couldn't see you.

"Yes, don't worry" He said, "I'll explain in person, that is if you agree to come. I'd understand if you refused, though"

You rubbed the bridge of your nose and closed your eyes for a second. You owed a lot to Bruce, and since it was a simple recon stakeout, you could take one or two nights off to help him out. You were already ahead of schedule in your studying and confident in your knowledge of the material.

"Yeah, sure, I'll be there" You finally answered. "What time do you want me over?"

"As soon as you can"

"Aight, see ya"

You hung up the phone and put it back on your desk, observing it for a second. It had been gifted to you by Bruce after you began going on missions more regularly with the batlings, he said that way he knew for sure all communications would be secure and sheltered from hacking or government surveillance. You had to admit, having an encrypted phone was pretty neat, as it ran entirely on Wayne Enterprises servers and networks. The simple thought of not having to suffer through youtube ads was satisfactory enough on its own to justify the need for it, even if you didn't join missions as much as you used to.

You finally stood up and went to change from your yoga pants and loose tank top to black jeans and a sweater, then jumped in your car and drove to the manor. You punched in your code at the gate and took the right to the garages, where you entered a second code to open the doors. Your car was several notches under those parked there, but you had to have something less flashy as not to attract too much attention. Still, it was more than a majority of college students even had. You had to thank Bruce for that too. He wasn't your adopted father per say, since he found you a few days before your eighteenth birthday, but he still acted like a guardian and mentor for you.

You jogged down to the batcave, where you instantly spotted a chatty blonde sprawled in a seat, making wild gesture. She sprung up straight at the sound of you coming in and her face split in a wide grin. She jumped on her feet and skipped toward you.

"Hey giiiiirl" She drawled out excitedly. "Long time no see!"

"Hey Steph" You chuckled, going for the hug. "Sorry I didn't call, I have no excuses"

"Don't worry about it" She waved off with an airy laugh. She knew how busy school kept you, and how you kind of wanted to separate yourself fromthe vigilante life. "I'm just glad you're here"

"So am I" Bruce called from the computers. He gave you a subtle smile, and you nodded back to him. "It seems like we're in a bit of an impasse here"

You didn't miss the quick glare he sent to Tim and Steph, who sheepishly avoided looking back at him. It didn't seem too serious though, or the air would have drastically changed.

"Before he says anything, know it wasn't our fault" Steph hurried to say.

"We were totally ambushed by Vicky Vale" Tim nodded along."No idea what she did there, but she was, and she saw right through our disguises.We had to bolt before she exposed us"

You frowned in confusion. "Okay can someone tell me what is going on here?"

"Tim and Steph were supposed to go undercover and cozy up with the high leaders of what I have suspicions on good authority are transiting premium grade opium into the US and Europe, and are close partners to Count Vertigo" Bruce began, already exhausted. "But as they said, Vicky Vale was somehow invited to the banquet and singled them out immediately before they could get even near the big guys"

"My magnificent blond mane attracts way too much attention, I'm afraid" Steph sighed sadly, making you chuckle. "It's a curse, babes. I tell ya"

"Keep telling yourself that, Stephi" A new voice came from the top of the stairs. You both wanted suddenly to go back to your books as a big part of why you barely tag along on missions anymore skipped down the stairs. Damn Dick Grayson, damn him. "We all know covert missions are not your strong point"

"I'm gonna kill you in your sleep, Grayson" She smiled sweetly at him.

"No, because you suck at being subtle" He returned the grin, just as sweetly if not more. He ruffled her hair as he passed by. "What's up Timbo"

He hummed something unintelligible, flipping his brother off. Dick laughed, then almost added something when he finally noticed you. His laughter died down and his eyes widened, and suddenly he looked uncomfortable. "Oh, you're here"

"So it seems" You replied as flatly as he spoke. It wasn't new, you had never known how to act around each other. Did you hate him? Of course not, you had absolutely no reason to. Did you consider him your friend? Hard to say. All you knew was that any and every encounter you had with Dick Grayson was awkward. You got along with Tim just fine, and even Jason when he was still around. You loved Cass and Duke, and you even managed to get on Dami's good side, or most of the time anyway. But Dick remained a mystery to you, one that had eluded you for years now. You didn't understand a single thing about that boy, and you doubted you ever would. You've had conversations before, loads of them, and you had no doubt he would make an amazing friend, but you couldn't seem to get past the stage of acquaintances.

Which was frankly disappointing, because you had been instantly attracted by his charms and easygoing nature when you first met. You had been drawn to him, and you couldn't try and pretend you hadn't pinned after him for the longest time. But you hit a wall when his behaviour began changing wildly around you, right around the time you slipped flirts every now and then to let him know that you were into him. Right now, you were just really over his poor attempts at pretending he never noticed it happen.

"So" Bruce spoke up, breaking the tension that had suddenly arisen in the cave. "Tomorrow night we'll have a new opening to try and get to them, hopefully without interruption this time. I've taken a look at the list, and no reporter was on it. We should be good"

"But Tim and Steph already got busted" You pointed out. "They'll know something is up if they show up again"

"That's why they will be seen at the Gotham Charity Auction at the museum" He explained, meeting your eyes. "That's why I called you up. You'll be going undercover with Dick as husband and wife"

"What?" Dick coughed almost immediately. "We're not–" He laughed nervously. "Us? As a married couple? This is ridiculous"

Your head turned sharply toward him, your eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Wow, thanks a lot for the vote of confidence" You snapped. "I didn't know being my fake husband was such a terrible perspective"

"No– Wait– That's not–" He stuttered, his eyes wide. "I didn't mean it that way"

"Sure" You rolled your eyes, before turning to Bruce again. He had an unreadable expression on his face, more unreadable than usually anyway. Tim and Steph stood there in stunned silence, not daring to speak up. "What's the briefing?"

Bruce glanced in between you and Dick, before looking back at you again. "Félix Lachance and Stella Gustavsson, they're the one you need to befriend. Since you're not known to the public, it'll be easier for Dick to pass under the radar and not cause an incident like last time"

"We get it, B" Tim muttered under his breath as Bruce passed you the files with the pictures.

"I need you to retrieve any information you can" He continued, ignoring Tim's comment. "Names of business partners, location of transactions, dates, anything, you know the gig. Your occupation and alias if you want one will be at your discretion, I trust you can deal with that. As always you need to be extremely careful as not to alert them, because this is our last chance to get the critical Intel we need to take this down. So I'll need you at your A game, both of you"

This was a warning and you knew it. He let you know more or less subtly to put aside whatever was happening between you and behave like adults. You straightened your back and took a deep breath, getting your head in the right mindset.

"Alright, I'll be ready for tomorrow night" You nodded as you gathered the files. "Can I stay over tonight? There is no point in trying to study now"

"You don't need to ask, (Y/N), you're always welcome here" Bruce said, a hint of fondness in his voice. He always liked having you around, he said your presence tamed the boys. You nodded and made your way upstairs, finding the room you claimed as your own for about a year, and the same you always came back to when you stayed the night.

You went to the drawers, fishing out old training clothes you had left behind. You weren't sure all those were yours, they were probably mixed with pieces you stole from Steph and Cass. In return, they probably did also steal from your drawer occasionally, balancing it all out. You were about to change into something comfy for bed when a soft knock at your door caught your attention. You walked to it and tentatively opening the door, your expression flattening when you saw how it was.

"Yes?"

"Hey um" Dick scratched the back of his neck. "I just wanted to say, I'm sorry it came out that way. I just meant that it would be, you know, weird"

You stared at him blankly. "You're not helping your case here, Dick"

"Shit, that's not what I mean either!" He hurried to say, realizing his mistake. But you were already closing the door. "Please (Y/N)–"

"Get some rest Dick" You said as you pushed the door closed. You sighed and shook your head before adding in a whisper, "God knows we'll need it"

------

You had done covert missions before, but this was the first time you were operating in such conditions. You finished retouching your hair, staring at yourself in the mirror, wondering whether or not it was more expensive than your total life income. The floor length champagne coloured dress was stunning, tailored to your form and just sparkly enough to let you shine through the design. You suspected the shoes were made especially to fit with the dress, as they resembled its lace and belt colour. You were sporting on top of that a heavy diamond necklace with matching earrings, proving the general high cost of the outfit. Your comm was carefully tucked in your ear, functional and well hidden.

"Oh my my" Steph whistled lowly. "If I wasn't dating Timbers I would date you"

You laughed. "This is the outfit talking. You haven't seen me tired and puffy in sweatpants just yet"

"Grump, just take the damn compliment" She playfully poked your exposed shoulder.

"Alright alright, thanks" You rolled your eyes. "Since it's gonna be the only one coming from this household anyway"

Steph wiggled her eyebrows. "Wouldn't be so sure about that" She said in a sing-song voice. "Your fake boyfriend may have some thoughts too"

"Ha" You snorted, walking out of your room with her following at your side. "It's good, that you're wishful thinking. The boy can't seem to talk to me without insulting me lately"

"Trust me, he won't be able to resist to this bombshell" She gestured at your form. "Dick's a people pleaser, and looking like a whole five course meal like that, you sure are easy to please if you want my opinion"

You shook your head, a small grin on your face. Steph had always been your favourite for a reason. She knew how you felt about Dick, but she never meddled. Well, not more than she typically would anyway, and not enough to cross your boundaries. And even then, she had no explanation either for his behaviour. You finally reached the foyer, where Bruce was dressed casually, sleeves rolled up and without a tie, talking to an all dressed up Dick, his hair now dark red and with almost black contact lenses. Your heels clicking on the stairs was what snapped their attention to you; Bruce nodding at his choice of dress for you, and Dick, his mouth slightly agape. You felt Steph gently but excitedly elbowing your ribs.

"Ah, (Y/N), there you are" Bruce said. "I'm glad to see the dress fits well"

"Yeah" Dick tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. "You look okay"

You blinked in disbelief as you heard Steph's facepalm behind you. You closed your eyes and exhaled through your nose, while Bruce shook his head slightly at his son.

"Yikes" Tim made his presence known. You shared this one word mood immensely right about now. "Way to go D"

Dick cleared his throat, trying to push back the embarrassment blush creeping up his cheeks. "Uh, shall we go?"

"That would be preferable, yes" Bruce replied, making Steph choke and cover he laughter with a cough. The way he said it was clearly meant to be a jab to his son's tactless attitude. "Be careful"

"Of course" You smiled tightly and all but dragged Dick outside. You'd take one of Bruce's luxury car to get there, and it was already waiting in the driveway. Dick pressed the door button and slowly, they lifted up to let you in. You slid in the passenger seat without waiting for Dick's help and you kept your eyes on the windshield in from of you as he began to drive. The ride was silent until he decided to speak again, tentatively.

"It's nice to see you all dressed up, for once" He said, still clearly not thinking of his choice of words more carefully. "It's different. A good different!"

For once? Was he serious?

You audibly sighed. "I'm begging you to just stop talking"

"What?" He objected, confused. "What did I say wrong this time– Oh"

"Yeah" You replied, your tone clipped and dry.

"I'm an idiot" He mumbled under his breath. That you could agree on, but you didn't voice it out loud.

He couldn't pull into the driveway fast enough. You slipped on your fake engagement ring as Dick stopped in front of the awaiting valet, doing himself the same thing. You both had a recording device slipped in your clothes, and the ring allowed you to turn it on and off at will, as well as the comm in your ear. You turned both off for the awaiting scan at the entrance, as not to emit detectable frequencies.

"Ready?" He asked, and you gave him a firm nod. He got out first and rounded the car, opening your door for you as he would be expected to by this particular crowd. You took his offered hand to climb out and linked your arm to his as he gave the keys to the valet in exchange for a ticket. He left a tip before you walked inside, registering to the guest list. You passed the security checkpoint without a hassle and found yourself in the hall where the auction was held. You turned on your comm and recording device again.

"Recon first, then regroup?" You suggested in a mutter as you were both visually scanning the room.

"Yep" He replied shortly. "B, copy?"

"Crystal clear"

"Good. Let's go"

While Dick headed to the bar, you opted for the art collection on display, pretending to scout for potential pieces to bid on. But your eyes weren't on the expensive paintings and statues, but moved around the room to spot some VIP lounge or area where the big shots might hang out at. There was a room where attendees came and went, but you shrugged it off as there wasn't enough security for the profile you were searching for. You paused your recon for small talk here and there, and you were in the middle of a casual chat about painted landscapes with an older gentleman when Dick rejoined your side, handing you a drink.

"There you are honey" He smiled sweetly, his unusually dark brown eyes reflecting the light from the chandelier.

"Joey, my love, allow me to introduce you to Sir Fernand Bretworth of Essex" His alias flew out of your mouth naturally, then you took a small sip of your drink. Non alcoholic, nice thinking. "We were discussing impressionism and its influence on modern art"

You wanted to smirk at the clueless look Dick gave you. He was a prodigy in a lot of things, but art wasn't one. It was more Damian's thing, or Tim's if he tried hard enough, but definitely not Dick's. Take that now.

"Ah, yes..." He replied slowly. "Fascinating indeed"

"Alright" You let out a small, cover up laugh as your hand rested on his bicep. "My husband has little interest in art, my apologies"

"No offence taken" He chuckled. "I'll leave you two, my wife must be looking for me. An old fool like me gets easily distracted!"

You laughed along with him until he was out of earshot. Then you dropped your hand and turned to him. "Noticed anything?"

"Yeah, there is a guarded room with special access" He said as you walked deeper into the crowd not to look suspicious. "Only owned of a special pass can go in, and the guards are very thorough"

"Great" You breathed. "Now let's hope out lovebirds will come out to mingle"

"As it turns out..." He trailed off, and instinctively, you began turning your head toward where his gaze lead. He immediately redirected your head back to him with a firm, but gentle touch on your cheek. His hand remained there for about three seconds longer than necessary, until he realized what he did and retracted his arm. You could have almost enjoyed it if he didn't look like he was touched by literal fire. "Don't look"

"Sorry" You mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

"... They got out, they're talking to people" He informed you, ignoring what just went down. "You go for Stella, I'll take Felix. Remember, friendly but not suspicious. Sweet talk your way into spilling the beans"

"I know" You bit back, your voice low. "Not my first mission, remember? I know what to do"

"I was just reminding you"

"Yeah, I got that" You scoffed. "If you don't trust me, just say so, it'll save you trouble of babying me"

"Come on, that's not–"

He began arguing, but you walked away before you could slip up and say his real name. It would give him one more reason to come down on you like you were a beginner in need of guidance. You were rusty, not stupid. You didn't need him insulting your undercover talents as well. You stopped in front of a beautiful emerald necklace that had a start bid of ten millions dollars and took a long sip of your drink, now kind of bummed it was non alcoholic. But that very detail was probably why you felt a presence approaching you from behind, giving you a few seconds to compose yourself and sweep your frustration under the rug.

"Trouble in paradise?"

You turned around, surprised. It looked like the voice made you jump, when it was in fact the nature of the question that threw you off, as well as the person who had spoken. Before you could ask, the Stella Gustavsson smiled warmly and nodded to where Dick had been seconds earlier.

"I saw what happened" She began, and your heart skipped a beat, hoping she hadn't overheard. "Those frustrated hands gesture are all too familiar. What did he do?"

You relaxed slightly, for now. "We've been having trouble lately, well, more than usually" You explained with a little complicit cock of your head. She seemed to get it. You, on the other hand, knew Dick was hearing everything on his comm, so you decided to go for it. "He's acting... Weird. Can't seem to talk to me without irritating me, whether on purpose or not. I'm sorry, I'm venting to a stranger, I can't imagine how it must look look like.

"Don't worry about it dear, I asked" She winked, extending her hand. "I'm Stella"

"Aleka" You shook her hand.

"Your dress is stunning, by the way!" She exclaimed. "Which designer?”

You froze for a second before shrugging. "No idea, my designer got it for me" You brushed off. "As long as it looks good, I don't care where it comes from"

"Amen" She said, taking a sip of her champagne. "Although, I need to know the name of your designer. They have amazing taste, and I'm looking for a new one for myself"

Oh shit.

"It's B" You replied instantly.

"Bee?"

"Yeah" You nodded, and she looked at you incredulously. "I mean, that's what we all call him. I'm sure he has a name, but I pay him to dress me, not to know his personal life"

"Harsh, (Y/N)" Bruce said in your ear, and you remembered he had been listening to everything. "But nice save"

She laughed, unaware of the comments from Batman himself. "That is very true. How have I not met you before? I feel we have a lot in common"

"I sincerely have no idea" You replied, adding a little gasp of disbelief.

"You're different from this crowd, I can feel it" She kept going on as you started walking side by side in the exposition room. "Everyone here only cares about petty, trivial things. You have a head on your shoulders, you're smart. Too bad your man can't seem to see what's in front of him"

You sighed in agreement to hide the fist pump of victory that threatened to come up. Just like that, you had won Stella over. "I don't know what to do about it. I've tried to talk to him, but it just makes it worse"

"But have you tried to make him jealous?" She suggested with a perfectly shaped eyebrow raised. "There are plenty of young men around, or older bachelors if you're into that. Flirt with them, make sure he sees you, he'll come running, take my word"

"It won't work, he's not–" Even my boyfriend, you were about to say, but you saved your fall just on time. Still, you could practically see Dick's glare in the back of your head at the almost slip up. "Jealous. He's not a jealous man, he's very confident and secure"

"What a shame" She drawled out, going for her champagne again. "Here's what you can do then. Go to him, take him by the neck and french kiss him like there is no tomorrow”

You choked on your saliva as she watched you with a mischievous grin. "Excuse me?"

"It's guaranteed to work, darling" She lifted her shoulder in an elegant shrug. "Then you hold him off. You'll thank me later tonight when you're back at home, just wait and see"

You were about to argue some more, but her insisting stare told you she wasn't just going to let it go. So you scanned the crowd for Dick, spotting him casually excusing himself from a conversation group, going for a refill at the bar. You reached him and grabbed him by the elbow, bringing him face to face with you. You made sure your back was to Stella before beginning to explain the situation.

"I heard" He told you in a mutter, making sure his lips were unreadable under Stella's stare from the distance.

"Then you know what she expects" You sighed, slipping your hands behind his neck. "It doesn't have to be deep, just convincing. Can you do this without grimacing?"

You thought he would stumble into some weak apology, or say something clever. He did neither, instead dived straight for your lips so quickly it was you who was taken by surprise. Naturally, all you could do is kiss him back and try to keep up with him. At some point you thought he would break off, but you weren't prepared for him to actually deepen the kiss. He wasn't letting you go, and it made you dizzy in all the best ways. Let's say you were thankful for his arm around your waist right about now. Finally, you still had to breathe, so you parted reluctantly.

"What was that for?" You asked, your eyes still dazed.

"An apology for irritating you unintentionally" He grinned boyishly, for probably the first time ever directed at you. "I'm an idiot"

"Can confirm" You replied, bringing him down on your lips again. This time, it was a bit shorter, but the spark was still very much present. "You should have done this a long time ago"

"I know" He nodded, his head slightly down and his puppy dog eyes shining even underneath the dark contact lenses. "You're a bit intimidating, I didn't know how to act"

You let out a loud laugh at his confession. "You're kidding"

He pouted.

"Me?" You repeated. "But you're– You're you!"

"Well, duh" He chuckled. "You've got me all tangled in here," He pointed at his chest. "Made me nervous all the time"

You melted just a little bit at his little display, before remembering doing this was a specialty of his. You were just not used to be on the receiving end of it. "You're lucky you're cute, and that I'm already sold on you"

The bright grin returned.

"As heartwarming as this moment is, please focus on the task at hand" Bruce's stern voice echoed in your head, and you were suddenly reminded your conversation had been integrally transmitted to him.

"Right, sorry" Dick apologized sheepishly.

"See, I told you"

This time, you were taken by surprise by Stella walking on you. Even Bruce's intervention hadn't quite brought you back to reality. Damn Dick Grayson, damn him. You turned around, trying to hide your flustered state and instead focusing on the tall gentleman at her side. Must be Felix Lachance, you thought.

"It works every time" She added, sipping from a new glass of champagne.

"You were right" You let out an airy laugh. "Stella, this is my husband Joey Moore. Joey, this is my new friend Stella"

They shook hands before she introduced her husband to the both of you. You already knew his name, but you both pretended you didn't for the sake of your covers.

"Nice to meet you two" Félix smiled politely.

"Hey, would you like to go for a drink after this?" Stella asked. "I sure would like to get to know you two better"

Dick and you exchanged a glance, knowing you had locked the target. Acquiring intel from now on would only be a piece of cake, the base was laid for further actions. You smiled, returning your glance to Stella.

"That would be absolutely lovely"

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #nightwing #nightwing x reader #nightwing imagine #dc #dcu #dc universe #dc imagine #dcu imagine #dc universe imagine #batfam #batfam imagine #imagine #nightwing x you #dick grayson x you

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stolen-kisses-a · 3 years ago

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The Night Ali Disappeared ~ A PLL Night of Terror ~

In other words, the night Ali had too many people against and after her and she almost got murdered for it.

*most info comes from a PLL site if I can’t remember every little detail so I rewrote the majority of my version of events and copy and pasted some parts along with some of the pictures, so credit goes to them for putting it altogether for us.

Link: https://prettylittleliars.fandom.com/wiki/Sequence_of_Events_-_Alison%27s_Disappearance#The_Day_Alison_Went_Missing_-_September_1

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Lets take a trip down memory lane shall we??? This is gonna be a long one. Read it if you want to or read it from the link as well :)

1. The morning of: Alison went to Hilton Head to meet up and be with Ian to get her mind off of - A. And at the same time Melissa was there with Ian but in separate rooms. Melissa showed up in Ian’s room and was angry with Ian for knowing Ali is there with him and he tells her that Alison means nothing to him, that’s when Alison finds Ian’s creepy pedo videos and it happens to be one of Toby and Jenna. She gets a copy of the video and then leaves.

2. Alison checks into the Lost Woods Resort under her Alias Vivian. Sparia also found out she checked in another time. But the dates are confusing. This will be explained later on (#23).

3. Alison then dressed up as Vivian Darkbloom and had Duncan fly her from Hilton Head to a field near Philadelphia 6-7 hours before the girls believed her to arrive (I’m not sure if it’s true or not). She then was going to meet A face to face finally after having a newspaper convo back and forth with them, but supposedly that never happened. They were supposed to meet nearby of what looks like a creepy doll hospital (cuz Mona loves dolls), supposedly Alison called the police that same day near the street where the hospital was - not sure what for if this was true as Alison never confirmed it.

4. Alison then goes visits Jenna in the hospital, to show her the video of Jenna and Toby together as blackmail, because she thought Jenna was A. Turns out to be false as A sends her a death threat right after leaving Jenna’s room.

5. That afternoon: Alison then “returns home” from Georgia with bags looking very tan and saying her arms are sore. One bag had a tag on it from Hilton Head, Spencer obviously questions it and Alison asks her “why so many questions?” and reiterates she can’t spill every detail and tells the girls to “wait for it” repeatedly.

6. Alison returns home and finds a gift from her mom with the infamous yellow top and she turns around after changing in her room and sees a threatening message from A on her mirror.

7. That same day, Alison bought a storage locker to hide Ian’s videos before stopping by to see Emily and flirt with her some to then give her a snow globe with the storage locker key inside the bottom of it. Alison then leaves for a “prior engagement” although it was never revealed who she went to see next before coming to Spencer’s barn for the sleep over.

8. Before heading over to the sleepover. Alison returns home again and runs into her mom (on the phone with Radley because Bethany escaped and Charlotte escaped as well to go after her). Her mom wanted to Ali to stay in for obvious reasons even though the excuse that she just didn’t want to her going out. Alison then fights back by saying she planned this ages ago and was told it was ok to do. Then she mentions about Spencer being a bully and that she took care of it (really, Spencer a bully?). Then Ali’s mom remarks to Ali “She knows things about that family Ali doesn’t know” and Ali asked curiously “Really, like what?” Ali’s Mom responds that she’s seen what they are capable of and reminds Ali’s that she can never turn her back on a Hastings. -Which is exactly what Ali did after her and Spencer fought again #12). Alison then pretends to go to her room and sneaks back down to go into her moms purse to grab some sleeping pills while her mom was distracted on the phone again- what does Ali need those for? Oh, we’ll find out soon.

9. That Night: Alison arrives at Spencer's barn and pranks and jumps to the barn doors and scares the girls. Heading inside, she gets a text from Toby to meet her. The girls hang for a bit and gossip about Beyonce’s new song and then Ali throws some shade at Emily for liking it too much (totally not homophobic am i right??). She then spikes the girls drink with her moms medicine to knock them out. Aria drinks first and Spencer jokes to Aria to not drink to much or she’ll tell them all her secrets. The Ali ironically says “Friends shares secrets, that’s what keeps us close. Drink up”.;) We can only assumed Emily, Hanna and Spencer drank afterwards. After the girls fell asleep, she then meets Toby outside of the barn doors so he can thank her for getting Jenna to leave him alone. Toby then gives her his sweater because she was cold.

10. After speaking with Toby, Alison leaves Spencer’s backyard to meet up with Ezra. *cringe*.Toby also saw this as well (Although this was never even mentioned by Toby either -plot hole-).Ezra is clearly mad at Ali since she lied to him about her age and then he ends things with Alison in a not so nice way..

11. *Spencer wakes up and notices Ali was missing, so she waits for her to return.*

Alison then goes to meet Ian at the kissing rock after speaking with Ezra. (flashback moment: (I know you wanna kiss me”). this is where they fake Ian hurting Ali in the video later discovered. Alison then threatens him with his videos to make him leave her alone, Ian then says not tell anyone or else people will get hurt and then ironically “storms” off.

12. Alison returns to the barn to find Spencer awake waiting for her. Also she didn’t have Toby’s sweater anymore. Where did it go? (plot hole - only to be planted in Toby’s room to frame Toby for Alison’s murder at some point.)

They go inside Spencer’s house and have a fight about Spencer telling Melissa about her and Ian again. It gets heated and Spencer tells Alison she is sick of her games and told her, "You are dead to me already. “ Alison leaves and then Spencer runs after her. (Charlotte and Alison’s mom witness the fight and pays Charlotte off not to say anything - which is weird to pay off your own daughter). Spencer wants to continue the confrontation with Alison and Spencer grabs a shovel acting as if she was going to hit Alison with it and Spencer collapses to the ground in the midst of Alison trying to stop Spencer. Alison then discovers Spencer had been taking ADHD meds (not to mention the sleeping pills mixed in her system from Ali already) and Spencer begs Ali not to tell anyone and she agreed and then sends Spencer back to the barn with the shovel in head and Ali then waits for her to fall back asleep. (Melissa also sees the fight and sees Spencer walking away with the shovel)

13. Meanwhile, Ian, Garrett and Jenna all meet up in Alison’s bedroom to look for the videos she stole. Melissa comes in furious looking for Alison in hopes to confront her about Ian and Ali hooking up. Garrett and Jenna leave Melissa and Ian alone to talk it out and go outside in the backyard. Alison comes up to them and then Ali reminds Jenna of the promise she made to her earlier that morning,(”If you ever come back to Rosewood, I’ll bury you”) so Jenna and Ali get into a cat fight, Ali knocks Jenna to the ground and she comes back up with the infamous now burned in Spencer’s fireplace (thanks to Mr. Hastings) field hockey stick in attempt to defend herself. Garrett takes the hockey stick from Jenna and proceeds to attack Ali with it and hits the tree next to Ali, she then falls to the ground next to the tree telling Garrett to hush with her finger. Garrett and Jenna flee the scene, with Jenna thinking Garrett killed or hurt Ali badly.

14. Garrett comes back to check on Ali to see if she’s ok (even though she wasn’t even hurt), but then notices she was talking to someone and proceeds to listen and watch to see who it was. Byron (Aria’s dad) came to speak to her about not exposing his affair to Ella because he didn’t have anymore money to give her to keep her quiet. Alison says "If you don't pay for your mistakes, how do you become a better person?" Byron replies back "You say all these grown-up things, yet you're still a child." Alison smirks and says "You know what I'm capable of." After Garrett makes some noise, Byron starts to leave and Alison threatens him again saying it's his last chance to save himself. Byron turns while he is leaving and replies, "Yes it is," presumably meaning he was going to tell Ella himself (which he obviously doesn’t). Alison then screams to him "You made your bed Mr. Montgomery,"

15. While Byron was leaving, Byron turns back when Alison spoke about his bed (LOL) and sees Melissa coming out from Alison’s back door on the phone with someone and says to them, "What do I have to do, call 911 to get your attention?" This is the part where we never found out who she was talking to, but it was important enough to show it to us.

16. Jason (out of nowhere) came outside to grab a drink of water from the watering hose since he was drunk and high and notices Melissa and presumably Alison talking to each other and calls out Ali’s name and then he sees Charlotte talking with Melissa instead, although this is false and never really confirmed who it actually was. As Alison and Bethany were wearing the same outfit that night, not Charlotte. It wouldn’t make sense for it to be Bethany talking to Melissa since she arrived much later, and Alison never confirmed this information either. So who knows what Jason really saw. So right after seeing them, he passes out on a lawn chair. Sometime after this, Garrett or Jenna, or both, slipped a note to Jason that says "I know what you did", in order to make him believe he hurt Alison, since Jenna thought Garrett had killed her.

17. Alison returns to the barn watching the girls sleep some more and waiting to get another text from A, in order to rule them out. As some time passes, Alison decides to head home thinking she won since A didn’t try to kill her. As she was walking back to her house, she sees her mom obviously angry at her through the window for sneaking out and then all of sudden. BAM!! Charlotte hits Alison over the head with a rock only because she presumed it was Bethany since she was wearing the same outfit. Her mom then proceeds to bury Alison where the gazebo spot would be (pilot episode). She is screaming to Charlotte, "What have you done?! What have you done?!" Alison attempts to tell her mom she is alive, but cannot move or speak due to temporary paralysis. After Ali’s mom buries her, she then calls Detective Wilden and pays him off to give Charlotte an alibi and sends her back to Radley.

17. Not long after, Alison dug her way up reaching out of the ground for help/to get free, and who was there to grab her hand? Mrs. Grunwald of course, as she sensed something was wrong with Alison and had to come see what was going on and found her hand reaching for life. She then takes Ali to the hospital to get help, but then Ali runs away.

18. Meanwhile, Bethany finally shows up at Ali’s backyard, and so does Mona who was finally ready to confront and to kill Ali. But just like Charlotte’s mistake, Mona only saw the back of Bethany and presumed it was Alison and hit her over the head with the same shovel Spencer had earlier. This is when Bethany’s head gets hit so hard that it makes an indentation on her skull and she falls unconscious next to where Ali was previously buried. Mona then flees the scene.

19. Shortly after, Melissa shows up and sees Alison (obviously presuming it was her without checking) and assumed Spencer killed her based on the fight she witnessed they had earlier that night. She then proceeds to bury Bethany who was still alive in order to protect Spencer (”this whole time”)

20. And then we come back to the Pilot opening scene where the girls wake up to find Spencer and Ali missing from the barn. Spencer comes back to them and says that she looked everywhere for her and she thinks she heard her scream - which we know was probably from Bethany.

21. Later on that night, we see Alison walking on a random street after leaving Mrs. Grunwald’s aide. She is dazed and confused, hurt and traumatized by what she just went through. And who to pull up beside her? Mona. (I wonder what Mona’s plan was since she thought she killed her).

So Mona takes Ali to the Lost Woods Resort and checks in under Vivian Darkbloom’s name for Alison. Mona proceeds to clean Ali up and Ali tells Mona what happened and about A who tried to kill her. So smart and cunning Mona persuades Ali to fake her death so A could leave her alone for good.

22. The next day: Mona helps disguise Alison in a Vivian like wig so she can disappear. She then gives Mona tips on how to become popular and then Ali takes a car and leaves showing Mona with a eerier grin as she drives away, thinking she finally won.

23. Which comes back to the last bit of information involving Alison checking in again on 9/6 at the Lost Woods Resort 5 days later as she already checked in the night she went missing and she left the next day. So this had to be Mona checking in as her again or a plot hole in plotting clues in the storyline of Alison’s disappearance that ended up not making sense.

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It’s crazy how many people Ali saw the night/day she went missing and was almost killed. Like this girl clearly attracts trouble and drama and shit she shouldn’t be into at 15 years old.

Well, I hope you had fun reading this tale of terrors with me (if you made it to the end and didn’t go to the link lol) as much as I had fun putting it altogether and reminiscing on how it took the show 4 seasons to tell Alison’s disappearance story.

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raven-moon33 · 4 years ago

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@dorkshadows @earl-of-221b @melonmass @antidotefortheawkward-art @videogamelover99 (I’m tagging a bunch of people in case Tumblr eats my post again.)

Hello everyone! Happy #jttwfestival2020! I’m so excited to be participating in this event, and am so thrilled at all the new content we’re already getting. Here’s my fill for the prompt Day 3: Role Switch!

I will be cross-posting this on AO3 as well, so feel free to leave a kudos or comment there if you happen to swing by.

Basically, Golden Cicada/Sanzang is the super powerful protector of the group while the other four are severely weakened from their various positions before the journey started and can’t protect themselves all that well on the road.

Some notes on this AU thingum:

- Golden Cicada is asked by Guanyin to help with the journey. He agrees and takes the name Sanzang as his human alias and to hide his true identity from demons who might cause them trouble. (He’s referred to as both Sanzang and Golden Cicada in the story, so let me know if that gets to be too confusing.)

- He wears two golden bracelets that limit his powers so that he can stay on the mortal plane in a semi-human form for as long as the journey will take, although the strain of having his powers limited in such a way is sometimes quite tiring and even painful. (He’s still more than powerful enough to protect the group however, so don’t y’all worry).

- Wukong, Bajie, Wujing, and Bailong are all well aware of who their protector is, but they’re not aware of the whole bracelet/limited powers situation. (At least, as far as Sanzang knows).

Anyways, now that we’re done with all that, on with the prompt fill! I hope you all enjoy! :)

Sanzang was deeply regretting his decision to accompany the pilgrims on their journey. Although the four other members of their group were each powerful in their own ways (especially the monkey, good heavens) they still needed him to guard their journey onwards.

In order for the four celestials-turned-demons to redeem themselves and potentially achieve enlightenment, it was vital they had a guardian overseeing their journey, ensuring they remained on the righteous path, and protecting them from the many dangers their road took them towards.

Perhaps if they were taking this journey earlier-

before Bailong was weakened by decades cut off from the sea-

before Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing lost most of their celestial might from the years of being slowly corrupted from their own demonic behavior and the consumption of human flesh-

before Sun Wukong was trapped under a mountain for five hundred years, once one of the most powerful creatures in existence, withering like a lotus flower locked away from the sun until he became a mere echo of his former self-

perhaps then they would not have needed a protector from the hordes of demons and mortals who sought to end their journey before they could complete it for one reason or another.

But they were not. This was now, and the things of the past could not be changed, only dealt with. So they continued on, however reluctant they might’ve been to do so.

Although the presence of a guardian for the pilgrims was clearly necessary, it most certainly didn’t need to be Golden Cicada himself. The only reason he volunteered to be the guardian of the scripture pilgrims at all was because Bodhisattva Guanyin herself asked it of him, and he never could find it in himself to say no to her. So he took the name Sanzang for his temporary human form and released Wukong from the mountain, beginning their journey west.

So now he was here, less than a year on the road with four demons who clearly didn’t want to be on this journey at all, trying desperately to prevent Wukong from killing. Again.

“Wukong! Stop!” He raised his hand to intercept the golden cudgel, only just stopping it from caving in the cowering bandit’s head. If Wukong was at his full power, the cudgel likely would’ve destroyed Sanzang’s hand (if not more) for the trouble, but as it was the hit left not much more than a stinging sensation reverberating up his arm, easily ignored.

Wukong’s eyes blazed with frustration (whether from Sanzang’s interference or from his own inability to power through that interference as he once might have, Sanzang couldn’t be sure) but his mouth was still tilted in an easy grin and his posture remained casual.

“What is it, little bug? I was just going to give him a tap, a tap! I swear!”

Sanzang couldn’t quite hold back his scoff. “You and I both well know that a ‘tap’ from you is enough to kill an entire army, let alone a single man. I thought you agreed that you wouldn’t kill anymore humans, especially not while on this journey?”

“If they can’t handle someone fighting back, then these bandits have no business trying to steal from people on the road in the first place.” Wukong’s grin became a little more feral when his eyes shifted to the bandit still cowering behind Sanzang. “Or is it alright that they’ve been going after traveling families and elderly folk?” His voice deepened a little into the demonic tone he only got when he was truly angry. “Children?”

“Of course it’s not alright.” Sanzang said with a soft sigh, his grip on the golden cudgel tightening a little to get Wukong’s eyes back on him. “And you know that’s not what I’m saying.” The silence between them grew into a large, tense thing, Wukong’s eyes blazing with the fire of his fury, singing with the memory of his days of havoc, and for a moment Sanzang wondered if they were going to fight once again, like they hadn’t since the very early days.

Back then, Wukong was still so wound tight with frustration at the situation- being freed from the mountain only to be trapped on a journey he wanted no part of, Sanzang having to rescue him from demons so lesser Wukong once probably wouldn’t have even noticed them amongst his horde of monkeys and demons, not even being able to fly on his cloud to make the journey easier or shorter at all, weakened as he was by the weight of Five Finger Mountain- that he’d more often than not lash out at Sanzang over everything, physically and verbally slashing at him with every method available until he either tired himself out, they became distracted by something else, or they managed to reach an uneasy compromise built up of tense silence and avoided glances.

It got better with the addition of the others to their group, levying the tension and anger somewhat with the presence of others who likely better understood and who could commiserate with Wukong’s frustration, but still sometimes there would be an aborted swing of his staff, a grinding of the teeth as he seemed to resist the temptation to bite at Sanzang’s outstretched hand.

But it was getting better, slow as the progress might be. Recently, Wukong even let Sanzang bandage some of his wounds after a particularly rough encounter with a mountain demon, the first time he’d accepted such help from anyone in the year they’d been traveling together.

Sanzang was surprised by how deeply he hoped they wouldn’t slide back into those early days.

It was not only because the constant war of wills had been exhausting, but because he genuinely hoped they could become something approaching friends before the end of their journey together. Sanzang had already become fond of the four demons he watched over, troublesome as they could be at times, but the other three took their cues from the Monkey King. So long as Wukong and Sanzang remained at odds, the others kept their distance from him, figuratively if not literally. (They did share a campfire more often than not, after all.)

And besides that, physical altercations with Wukong were always draining, more than nearly anything else on their journey.

He wasn’t sure if it was because Wukong was still just that powerful (weakened as he might be, it would still be suicide for most to challenge him) or if it was because Sanzang refused to use more than defensive tactics against him when they did fight (regardless of their personal issues, Wukong was still his charge, and he would never knowingly or willingly bring or allow harm to any under his protection), but whatever it was, fights with Wukong could leave him weakened enough to warrant a brief visit to Bodhisattva Guanyin to regain his strength, and he hated leaving the group even for handfuls of minutes, talented as they were at getting themselves into trouble even when he was there.

But luckily, Wukong didn’t seem to want a fight either. With a brief glance at the golden bands wrapped firmly around Sanzang’s wrists, the anger seemed to leech out of the monkey completely. (Not for the first time, Sanzang wondered if Wukong knew more about the bracelets than he was letting on, but now wasn’t the time to question him about it.)

Wukong rolled his eyes and took a step back, tugging his staff out of Sanzang’s grasp. He twirled it until the golden cudgel rested across his shoulders, both arms hanging off it casually.

“Right right, ‘doing wrong unto those who have wronged will not undo their wrongs, only add to your own’, and all that. You need to get some new sayings, little bug, if even those of us who aren’t listening have them memorized.” He walked off before Sanzang could retort, disappearing through the trees and returning to the road the bandits attacked them on. Sighing, out of frustration or relief or maybe even both, Sanzang turned back to the bandit still frozen to the ground behind him. As soon as he saw Sanzang’s eyes on him, the bandit hurried into a kowtow, bowing over and over again as he muttered a shaky litany of ‘sorry’, over and over again, interspersed occasionally with ‘thank you’ and ‘please spare me’.

Abruptly feeling very tired, Sanzang knelt down in front of the bandit, placing a gentle hand on the back of his head as he bent down to stop the frantic movements. The bandit froze and fell quiet instantly, face nearly pressed against the dirt despite the feather-light touch Sanzang had on him.

Sometimes, when he was feeling a little too tired or stressed or frustrated to completely hide the parts of himself the bands couldn’t quite suppress (or when he simply chose to stop hiding himself), everything around him could feel the heavy weight of his presence in the air. The insects in the trees would go silent, the plants in the forest would still their slow growth, and all mortal creatures would stop and tremble and hide in a desperate bid to avoid being seen by whatever now crouched among them, the entire world holding its breath as if waiting for the strike of lightning or the crash of an avalanche to swallow it whole. But, luckily for the bandit bowing beneath him, Golden Cicada was not cruel.

“You have lived a hard life, Chenglei,” the bandit flinched when Golden Cicada used his name, but otherwise didn’t move or make a sound, “but you know in your heart that it does not justify your actions now.” Golden Cicada gentled his tone, feeling the loss and grief twisting the man’s heart, feeling the beginnings of a demon’s bitterness rooted there in the ashes of love and gentleness.

(Loss wrought such devastation on a soul, and there was so much of it in the world; was there truly any wonder as to why so many demons wandered the world?)

“You have lost much, but you know those you’ve lost would be ashamed to see what you have become without them. Do you truly seek to dishonor their memory?”

“No.” The man sobbed out, shaking as his tears stained the dirt beneath them.

“Then go,” Golden Cicada said, standing up and stepping back, “and do better. Live the way they would’ve wanted you to.” The bandit didn’t waste another moment, scrambling up from the dirt and escaping into the forest, running as far and as fast from the road (and from Golden Cicada) as he could. With a small wave of his fingers, a cicada sprung from a nearby leaf and buzzed hurriedly after the man. Golden Cicada had given the bandit a chance, a choice, and it was up to him what he did with it.

But whether he chose to turn from the dark path he walked or continued along it despite Golden Cicada’s interference, he would be sure to face the appropriate consequences; Golden Cicada’s messenger would make sure of that.

The bandit now long gone, Golden Cicada sat down in the shade of a large oak tree, relaxing into the familiar lotus position. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and he drew himself back into himself. The heavy presence of the air eased away until it was locked completely behind golden bands and a human facade once more.

After a brief moment of silence in the newly lightened forest air, the insects began to cautiously chirp and chitter once again, birds hopping nervously onto new branches and singing soft tunes to one another, the trees groaning as they carefully continued their slow growth.

Sanzang released his breath in a long sigh, eyeing the cuffs around his wrists. They were mostly unremarkable looking, plain and nondescript even with their golden appearance, but that rarely meant much when it came to celestial tools.

They were given to him by Bodhisattva Guanyin back when he first agreed to help with the journey, and if it weren’t for the bracelets he wouldn’t be able to accompany the pilgrims at all, especially not for as long as the journey was likely to take. He recognized the necessity of wearing them, yet still he couldn’t help but loathe them at times. They locked away the majority of his powers, the majority of himself, shrinking him into something small and muted enough to exist on the mortal plane in a form he could pass off as human when he needed to, while still giving him enough power to help the pilgrims when they needed him.

The bracelets tethered him to the world in a way he hadn’t been bound for almost as long as he could remember, and although he could technically take them off whenever he desired, they still felt like chains trapping him, keeping him away from the sky and the freedom he’d enjoyed for an eternity (yet still for not long enough).

The heaviness of his own body startled him at times, his bones filled with mortar and his blood as viscous as honey, and he thought often about how he could understand at least some of Wukong’s frustrations. To be a creature of the sky suddenly bound to the unforgiving grip of the earth was a unique kind of torment not easily likened to any other.

He could take off the bands whenever he wanted, free himself and stop feeling like he was too big for his own skin, form itching with the need to be drifting amongst the stars and being the stars and forming the stars and dying with the stars all at once, but he also couldn’t take them off.

As Bodhisattva Guanyin warned him the single time he removed them, (back when a surprisingly powerful demon had his charges captured and was going to kill them, actually going to kill them, and Sanzang in his neutered form might not have been able to save them in time but Golden Cicada in his full glory most certainly could) the bracelets could only be removed and replaced a limited number of times.

Rebinding his power weakened the bracelets significantly, powerful as they were otherwise, and eventually his own form would be too much for the bracelets to contain. If the bracelets broke before the journey was over, there was no telling what would become of the pilgrims left without the guardian and guide they needed, and he was determined to see this journey through to the end for them.

(Come to think of it, Wukong hadn’t picked a fight with him since the time he briefly took them off. Wukong hadn’t been there when they were put back on as far as Sanzang knew, couldn’t have seen how excruciating it had been to lock himself away again after that brief taste of full freedom, but again he wondered if Wukong had managed to glean some understanding of what they were during that incident. Sanzang would have to question him about it soon, for his own peace of mind if nothing else. Something about the thought of any of his charges knowing, but especially Wukong, made something unpleasant shiver under his skin. He hoped none of them would ever know.)

It had only been a year, but already his investment in the pilgrims’ fates had gone from being for Bodhisattva Guanyin’s sake only to being entirely about his hope to see them succeed.

He had become so fond of them even in such a short time, and although he missed his old life amongst the celestials without these bracelets leashing the very essence of him, he found he dearly wished for his charges to succeed and achieve enlightenment themselves far more, even if they themselves didn’t seem to care much about it, judging by how often they complained and conspired against him when they thought he couldn’t hear. (The fact that none of them ever made a serious attempt to abandon the journey was often the only kernel of hope he had as the nights grew longer and the road stretched ever on.)

All these swirling thoughts of his were interrupted by something soft being stroked across his face.

Although he couldn’t see what caused it, he’d spent enough time around Bodhisattva Guanyin to recognize the feeling of a willow branch on his skin. She remained invisible, and although he could see her if he summoned his power once more (straining the magic of the bracelets binding him) he knew she would’ve shown herself if she wanted to be seen.

He recognized her visit for what it was (a gentle reprimand), so he closed his eyes and folded his body into the lotus position once again. The minutes passed peacefully between them, her silent presence as comforting as it always was, warm and gentle as spring rain, and they needed no words between them.

He breathed in, felt the knot of anger and anxiety and frustration and panic coiling in his chest, building from the time he’d last given himself to properly meditate, and he breathed it out.

With each breath he felt himself relaxing more and more, the tight clutch of fear easing until it disappeared entirely. Soon he was empty, mind calm and quiet like it hadn’t been for a good many nights, and he felt as much like himself as he could, bound to the earth as he was.

There was one more feather-light touch to his head (chastising, yet fond) and he could almost hear her saying you must take better care of yourself Golden Cicada; if you yourself are not at peace, then how can you help them find their own? before her presence faded and was gone completely. When he opened his eyes, all that remained as proof of her being there was a small lotus leaf filled with crystal clear water.

Smiling at this generous gift, he picked up the leaf and took a small sip. He drank barely enough to be able to taste it, yet still the subsequent warmth and strength suffusing his body was immediate. (He didn’t realize how weak and tired he’d been feeling recently, not until energy lit him up once more).

With care, he expertly twisted the edges of the leaf together until it closed up, protecting the water inside so he could safely store it in one of the hidden pockets in his robe. He would use it in their stew that night, as he knew they would be facing danger again soon and wanted his charges to have as much strength as they could before that happened. With one last look at his surroundings, Sanzang stood up, brushed himself off, and moved to return to the road where his charges were (hopefully) waiting for him.

When he returned to the site of the bandit attack, what he saw both surprised and warmed him.

The bandits hadn’t really been aiming for their group when they attacked, as their sights were focused more on the wagon of a traveling family who’d been on the same road. Although the combined efforts of Bajie, Wujing, and Bailong were enough to scare away the rest of the bandits while Sanzang prevented Wukong from killing the man he’d chased into the forest, it appeared the family and the wagon hadn’t managed to escape entirely unscathed.

The cart had somehow been flipped onto its side, flinging all of its contents into the grass beside the road, and while the horse pulling the wagon didn’t seem to be harmed, it had gotten loose and was now running down the road at a panicked gallop. The eldest of the group (likely the father of one of the parents), appeared to have broken his leg after falling from the wagon, and the two young children, a boy and a girl surely not more than five years old, were crying from their place stuck in a tree, where they’d gone to hide while the bandits fought the pilgrims.

But it was not all this that made Sanzang suddenly feel so warm and fond.

It was the sight of Wujing carefully lifting and righting the cart onto the road as Bajie helped the father of the group pick up the family’s scattered supplies.

It was Bailong quickly shifting into the horse form he generally seemed to prefer on the road to chase after the frightened mare, calming it down and leading it back to the family before it got too far to catch.

It was Wukong soothing the scared children, carefully lifting them out of the tree and returning them to the ground, letting them cling to him until their shaking stopped and patiently calming them down so their mother could tend to their injured grandfather.

A small smile painting his features, pride in his charges glowing brightly in his chest, Sanzang quickly strode over to help the mother set the elderly man’s leg.

Perhaps there’s hope for this journey after all. He thought to himself.

Somehow, somewhere, he felt like Bodhisattva Guanyin was laughing.

(A/N: Thank you all so much for reading! Let me know what you think and once again, happy #jttwfestival2020!)

#jttwfestival2020 #jttw #journey to the west #Tang Sanzang #golden cicada #sun wukong #sha wujing #zhu bajie #bailong #white dragon horse #Bodhisattva Guanyin #*scuttles into the room out of breath and slams story down onto the table*#sorry I'm late everybody!#holiday season has been a word I'm not allowed to say in front of the children #hopefully I'll be able to get at least a few more of these prompts filled even with the holidays breathing down my neck #someone send help ;;#hopefully my post will actually show up in the tags this time #fingers crossed lmao #but AGH I'm so excited for this and it's only day three

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imagine-that · 4 years ago

Text

Wounded

Warnings: kinda angsty I guess? Obviously mentions of weapons and wounds and stuff?

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

You sat most of the night, biting at the tip of your fingernails and still flicking through tv channels anxiously as the sun began to come up out the window.

You always worried when the Avengers went on a mission, they were always your best friends and basically your family but it had gotten even worse since you’d met him.

The day you met Bucky, the real Bucky not the winter soldier, was the day your heart grew ten times bigger and the day your worries grew a thousand times.

Of course, Bucky refused to let you tag along on any missions, always worrying himself that you’d get hurt or killed.

“Bucky, I know you’re in the middle of a mission but it would really ease my nerves if you would just call me.” You sigh into the phone as you leave your ten thousandth voicemail in his box. You knew he never really checked his voicemails or even his phone for that matter but it was the only thing keeping you from reaching literal insanity.

As you stand, you nearly bump right into Wanda in your state of hazy worry.

“Oh sorry Wanda. I didn’t realize anyone else was in the tower. Thought everyone was on mission.” You apologize with a halfhearted smile. She looks at you quizzically for a minute before she responds.

“He will be alright y/n. They all will. From what I was told it is a very simple mission. They should be back soon actually.” She assures you, the tone of strength in her voice keeping you calm.

“I know. I just worry. A lot. Probably a little too much actually.” You admit, subconsciously knawing on your thumb. Wanda swats you’re hand away from your mouth, nodding.

“I understand. But don’t let that worry get the better of you.” She says, holding onto your hand tightly.

“Thanks Wanda.” You say, a wholehearted smile replacing the previous expression you had.

“It’s my pleasure.” She smiles back, giving you a quick hug before she’s walking back out the door.

Shortly after she’d left, you hear a crash coming from the entryway, telling you the team was probably back. You stood quickly and ran over, excited that they were finally back.

As soon as you reached the door, you gasped in horror as Tony and Steve carefully carried a bloody and beaten Bucky through the open doorway.

“Wha- what happened?” You ask quietly, barely getting the words out. You follow behind them as they bring him over to the couch, his body practically limp. You hear his small whimpers and your heart practically shatters.

“He’ll be fine. He’s Bucky. He’s strong.” Steve says, probably more reassuring himself than he is you.

You go over to him, determination coursing through you as you grab a fistful of his shirt and try to get him to look at you.

Normally, you’d check to see if anyone else is injured. But seeing Bucky in the state he’s in sends you into full panic, making any rational thought fly right out the window.

“Steve. What the hell happened?” You demand and he sighs in defeat.

“He got hit with a bullet. He’ll be fine.” He repeats, clearly in a bit of a daze.

“Dollface.” You hear a hoarse voice murmur and your attention is immediately brought back to Buckys pale face. You kneel down onto the carpet, your face barely an inch away from his.

“I’m right here Barnes. I’m not going anywhere.” You whisper, running a hand up and down his arm.

He responds with a very weak smile and you feel tears starting in your eyes.

“Where did it hit him?” You ask no one in particular, looking up at the first person you see which happens to be Tony.

“Was it? I think it was what? The chest? Or the shoulder?” He says unsurely, looking over at Steve for confirmation. Steve nods his head, not meeting anyone’s eyes.

“Which are you nodding for?! Was it his chest or shoulder?!” You snap, looking to Steve.

“It was his shoulder.” He musters monotonously.

“And you didn’t think to take him to a damn hospital?!” You shriek, tears running down your face.

“We couldn’t. He’d end up arrested for being the winter soldier.” Natasha says, causing you to notice her presence.

“Right.” You sigh, looking back to him longingly.

“Doesn’t Fury know someone? Someone who could take care of him at whatever’s left of S.H.I.E.L.D.?” You ask, frantically trying to think of ways to help Bucky.

“He might. Let me call him and ask.” Natasha offers, pulling out her phone walking off into another room to take the call.

You squeeze Buckys hand gently and rest your head on the sofa cushion near his.

A few moments later, Natasha returns to the living room just as she hangs up the phone. Your head perks up hopefully as you look to her for an answer.

“He said they’ll be here as soon as possible so we need to make sure to put pressure on the wound.” She informs and you nod while Steve is quick to grab a rag and press it onto Buckys wound. He moans in protest but you ignore it as you put your hand over it to keep it over the wound tightly.

“As if we didn’t already know that.” Tony scoffs and Natasha kicks him in the shin and glares, telling him to shut up.

You softly push Bucky’s hair out of his face, stroking his stubbly jaw with your thumb.

“He’s gonna be fine. I know he is.” You sigh.

The lot of you sit there stuck in that moment for what feels like forever, waiting for help to get there. Your foot taps anxiously against the carpet in anticipation and worry.

Soon, a knock on the door is followed by a man and a woman, wordlessly rushing to your spot beside Bucky. With slight protests, they pull you to your feet, moving you away from him so they can examine his wound.

They explain what they’ll need to do briefly but you don’t hear a word of it, instead only hearing the ringing from your own ears.

You watch mutely as they pick up his body and place it on the stretcher they brought into the room, wheeling it over to the door.

You get to your feet, going to chase after them but Nat quickly steps in front of you, bringing you to a halt.

“Y/n, let them do their work. You need rest.” She insists.

“But-“ You begin to protest but she raises an eyebrow.

“You haven’t slept since we left. You. Need. Rest.” She argues, the people around you agreeing with simple nods or hums of agreement.

“Fine.” You huff, laying back down on the couch and snuggling into the cushions with a blanket, drifting off into a fitful sleep.

—————————————————-

A few nights later, you wake up late but quickly recover, running around the people spread out on the couch and floor around you and into your room, changing into comfortable clothing. You run back into the living room and grab your keys, eager to get to wherever they’re keeping Bucky.

For the past few days, you weren’t allowed to see him. You were given minimal information and rarely any updates for some reason which frustrated you beyond belief. You’d remained glued to the couch with the phone next to you, just waiting for more information. Everyone in the avengers group had stayed with you, some leaving and coming back from minor missions but all spending every night by your side.

It didn’t do much to ease your nerves but they treated you both like family as always and it warmed your heart immensely.

Because of your stress though, you’d hardly slept any of those nights. You tossed, you turned, you got up and paced but got maybe three or four hours of sleep each night.

When Fury had informed you you’d be able to see him today, you were practically bursting with joy and a small sense of relief.

“Y/n?” Nat asks, not even seeming the slightest bit groggy.

“I need to see him.” You sigh, looking over at her with desperate eyes.

She nods in understanding, walking over without making so much as a creak in the floorboards with ease.

“I’ll drive. Fury sent me the location while you were sleeping.” She explains, instantly in agent mode.

You nod, walking out the door after her and out to the car.

After a short drive, you arrive at a regular hospital. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you look over to Nat for answers.

“It was apparently a lot easier than they thought it’d be to get him in. They used an alias and apparently have some sort of contact in the hospital here.” She informs you as the two of you start walking through the parking garage, over to the elevator.

During the entire ride up to the floor, you’re fidgeting, your nerves getting the better of you.

You get out, all but running to the room Nat told you. Once you find the number, you fling yourself into the room, racing over to the bed.

When you look, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in at the sight of him peacefully sleeping.

You sit down in the chair, reaching over for his hand and holding it in your own shaking ones, never having felt so thankful to feel his pulse on his wrist as your fingers find their way there subconsciously.

You finally notice after a moment of nothing but his breathing and the beeping of the machines to fill the silence that Nat stayed in the hall, giving you a moment with him on your own.

You stare down at your fingers entwined in his own, listening to the steady beeping and biting your lips out of nerves.

“Hey doll.” A voice says from beside you and you’re whipped back to attention, looking over at him with wide eyes.

His soft smile causes a sudden and teary one of your own, giggling through your hiccuping sobs.

“You’re ok.” You cry, head falling onto his chest. He chuckles a little but you don’t miss the wince in pain when you touch his shoulder.

“Sorry.” You murmur, immediately pulling back from him in fear of hurting him.

“It’s alright y/n. It’s only a bullet wound. I’ve been through worse.” He says teasingly but your frown stops him, making him feel immediately wrong about saying it.

“Don’t talk like that. Please.” You mutter, looking down into your lap.

You always hated when he talked about his hydra days. Obviously you let him if he needed someone to talk to but when possible you avoided the subject, hating the trauma it caused him.

“I’m sorry. Just trying to lighten the mood I guess.” He apologizes with a half grin.

“That’s very unlike you.” You tease, wiping the corners of your eyes as he chuckles a little more.

“I shouldn’t be making you laugh, it’ll make it hurt more.” You groan and he shakes his head.

“It’s fine.” He grunts, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

You grin over at him until a few moments later, you’re frowning again.

“What?” He asks, looking puzzled.

You lightly smack his metal arm, scowling at him.

“James Buchanan Barnes, don’t you ever scare me like that again!” You scold.

He sighs, knowing it would probably have come to this at some point. He especially knows how upset you are when you use his full name to address him. He hated when you did that.

“You know how I feel about missions. They scare me. Like a lot.” You cry, not meeting his eyes.

“You know they’re dangerous y/n. You knew that before we even started going out.” He sighs, frowning in worry.

“That’s the point!” You exclaim.

Before he can respond, you grumble under your breath angrily as you snuggle up to him as gently as possible on his other side, no matter how uncomfortable the metal arm may be to be cuddled with.

“Just try not to get hurt again, yeah?” You murmur into his chest.

He grins a little, though you can’t actually see it.

“Not that I was really trying to this time, but I won’t. Promise.” He swears, nuzzling his chin into your hair.

You shuffle closer to him, gently wrapping your arm around his torso as his wraps around your waist.

You stay there as long as possible. Throughout the day, people come and go, either visiting with him or checking his vitals or his wound but the one thing that doesn’t change is you, snuggled comfortably up to him, protecting him as much as you’re capable from any other thing that may harm him and swearing to yourself that you always would.

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halfwall · 4 years ago

Photo

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❪ ⠀ * ⠀ ─ hello! i’m so excited for this genuinely, it is so seksi and socks + soda did such an amazing job with it. eunjung is my newest muse and the best way i can describe her is if you took a garden snake and aged it up manually in the sims and then took it into the spore game and gave it lips and made it a predator. in other words, my very own looks like a cinnamon roll could k-word you ( kiss? kill? your choice <3 ). this intro is a condensed version of my goog dooc and it’s still long <3 pls love n plot w me anyway. love u guys.

❪ kang mina, cis woman, she / her, twenty one. ❫ i can feel red energy, that must be yun eunjung. the third year print journalism & international relations major works as a bookkeeper at the house of the lucky gander, and is known around the manor as the yellow wallpaper. i’ve heard whispers about how they’re critical and pedantic, but everyone says they’re persevering and formidable. i don’t know what to believe... but with cc pulling the strings...

links: google doc, pinterest, stats, wanted connections.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

full name : yun eunjung

nickname(s) / alias(es) : emma yoon ( english name, not used ), tbd

age / dob : twenty one / apr 18 ‘99

hometown : tbd , oregon

current location : fortuna , maine

ethnicity : korean

nationality : english

gender : cis woman

pronouns : she / her

orientation : bisexual

religion : agnostic.

family : yun hajun ( father, alive ), han minji ( mother, alive ), yun eunsang ( twin brother, status unknown ), yun sangjung ( younger brother, deceased ).

face claim : kang mina

language(s) spoken : korean ( first language ), english

speech : sharp tongued. she’s a lot of opinions and a lot of things to say, therefore has never learned how to phrase things in a way that would deem her polite. often blunt, she’ll be quick to rip off the bandaid and just say what needs to be said. she doesn’t speak with much class or extravagancies, rather falls toward crassness and crudeness due to her upbringing.

hair : quite dark, a nice chocolate in the sun and a cool onyx in the dark. often tied back, though eunjung is only ever seen with her hair in two distinct styles: tied back messily or let down naturally. her hair falls straight as if it’s been flat ironed.

eyes : big, round, and doe eyed, a dark brown in color. quite the weapon to use when she’s in trouble or when she needs to talk her way out of something ( to proclaim innocence ).

height : five feet , seven inches.

build : lithe. as a former volleyball player, she has kept her shape up with rigorous conditioning ( mainly because if she’s to admit it, if she doesn’t she kind of gets lost in the walls ).

tattoos : none .

piercings : only earlobes .

scars : multiple from surgeries at sixteen.

clothing style : preppy, thanks to her settlement money and her own personal taste. never a hair out of place due to her perfectionistic personality and nature, though if you catch her on any given night, you’ll see her true colors shine through with old ( very old ) sweatpants and a hoodie that has someone else’s name written on the tag in hangul.

usual expression : sour, bitter – life has handed her a poor hand and she’ll make it everyone’s problem. she has one usual expression and it’s resting mean face; not the kind of person to wear her heart on her sleeve, she looks the exact same when she looks happy as she does sad, though – she’s great at acting and lying and you’ve never lived until you’ve watched her go from :| to :) in two seconds.

distinguishing characteristics : doe eyes that scream tragedy – reflecting the stars in the night sky if caught just right, the tilt of her lips when she clearly wants something to work in her favor.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

❪ almost directly copied from my google doc i’m sorry ❫

mbti: istj-a, the logistician / most who know her would assume her to be extroverted. not the most reserved in a room and always quick to speak up when she deems it necessary. but, like most logisticians – she’s always had a sharp, fact-based mind. she has always been self sufficient and hates relying on others, often seeing it as a weakness. she is sharp, dedicated and ambitious enough to accomplish whatever she wants to accomplish.

enneagram: 6w5, the guardian / like most of this type, her biggest fear is losing her guidance and stability, which translates into her skepticism of the world. therefore, it often leads to eunjung protecting those she is loyal to, but most importantly: herself. she will often think logically and analytically, solving problems practically and efficiently but she will often be selfish and can come off as cold as a result for her actions.

moral alignment: chaotic evil / eunjung has never been the most – angelic person, though she likes to pretend she is. at the end of the day, after everything she has been through, she has grown to be selfish – prioritizing her own personal gain and pleasure above all good and evil, right and wrong. it could be argued that she belongs in chaotic neutral, but she has no care for law and order, nor a real feeling of her morality anymore.

hogwarts house: slytherin / another reminder of her selfishness and how much she cares about her own well being. all her life as well, she has been told that she is shrewd and too ambitious for her own good which has only given her an incessant drive to prove them all wrong. when it comes down to it, like most slytherins, she will try to view every possible outcome until she finds the outcome that will benefit her the most.

comparable characters: juliet capulet ( romeo & juliet ), jennifer check ( jennifer’s body ), rosalie hale ( twilight ), blair waldorf ( gossip girl ), sansa stark ( game of thrones ).

the rundown: as smart as she is selfish, life has just twisted her to be a bit cold. she isn’t cruel by any means, nor does she necessarily wish hurt and evil upon those around her, but eunjung’s huge main character complex often leads to her priorities being: 1. eunjung 2. yun eunjung 3. eunjung yun. her biggest trait will always be selfishness, followed closely by her rash belief that she is the best in the room at all times.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞

trigger warnings: alcoholism + death

this is a rundown on the biography / death / back room / glass person in the google doc, also better written / explained because it’s not prosey <3

hajun is not a good father, he never has been. from a very young age, all eunjung has heard from him are his drunken spirals about how great they used to be. his surname was once held in a high regard, the name of an empress and he has always dwindled about to the three yun children that because of the greatness he has passed onto them, they must be great too.

eunjung has only ever viewed his spiels as hypocritical though. she has only ever known her dad as a mean drunk who lives in the dirtiest, most run down house in town with his poor three kids. her twin brother, eunsang, her younger brother, sangjung, and her spend their childhoods taking care of each other because nobody else will. their mother does something, they never know what because she only arrives with enough money for groceries and bills and then she leaves.

it’s that way for most of her childhood and most of her life. it’s a continuous cycle of eunjung + eunsang taking care of sangjung ( who starts going my samuel when he’s ten and the twins are twelve. the twins have english names, too, but eunjung has too much pride – like her father – and eunsang is the eldest and will do whatever his twin does out of love ) and eunjung is just – quite the difficult child. she speaks her mind and all of her opinions, as well as letting the festering anger within her too grow because she doesn’t know what else to do with it.

death tw. anyway, by sixteen, she’s just this bitter girl that the boys hook up with because she’s the poor girl from the dirty house on the rundown street. she’s got a reputation as a shrew around town, but she’s fine with being a shrew if she still gets her way. samuel is much more popular than either of the twins ( who are epitome of bad boy / bad girl from the wrong side of the tracks ) and is invited to a party at fourteen. it’s tradition to party in this abandoned mansion out in the woods and basically, an accident happens and samuel is pushed from the second story balcony into the foyer and d-words.

he’d called eunjung before dying though, asking for a ride so the twins had went to go get him but instead found him dead. while trying to figure out what had happened, she spots some kid that doesn’t like her still lingering around so she tries to chase him and he.... like.... pushes her off too and she d-words. end tw.

her back room is just this little room and she still to this day doesn’t know how much time she spent in there because it was just so confusing, all she remembers is that she ( or someone ) was trying to convince herself that she was home and that everything was fine. but, she’s a bitch and was like “uh, actually, i’ve never had a home <3″ and broke out of whatever spell.

her glass person is just her. identical, but trapped in the walls underneath the ugly yellow wallpaper in the room she was in. same as her, just more lifeless and it is really the only thing that still scares her – and it tried to escape the walls, but it couldn’t. the lasting effect is that if she’s alone in a room for more than an hour she swears the walls start stretching like someone’s behind it and just always feeling like she’s being watched. she also doesn’t like looking at her own reflection that much anymore because it just reminds her of her glass person.

anyway, she survives miraculously and after testifying and blah blah blah ( i did research on settlements and i still didn’t understand so ), the family of the kid who pushed her off – and probably samuel – gives the yun family a huge sum of money for their troubles and calls it a settlement. it comes with the condition that eunjung doesn’t sue or bring them up ever again and she’s like fine that’s cool, whatever, i’m rich now.

but her parents still aren’t happy and before samuel’s funeral, eunsang runs away from home, leaving them with only the daughter that neither of them really wanted. she still pushes forward though and ends school as valedictorian, prom queen, etc. and heads to fortuna because she really doesn’t think she can go anywhere and also her counselors are ass <3

she’s studying international relations + print journalism, her hopes are diplomacy or something, but she just chose the majors that she tested highest on on that career test i can’t choose. yeah.

please plot w me i have my wc linked up there or at /w. i love u all i’m sorry this was long.

#coreintro

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geekgemsspooksandtoons · 4 years ago

Text

For Your Own Good

This is a story set within my Bioshock Rebirth AU. A reimaging/reboot of the Bioshock franchise. https://geekgemsspookyblog.tumblr.com/post/626141727587270656/bioshock-rebirth-timeline-this-is-a-timeline-of-an Just as a heads up if anyone is wondering about the context. I’ve had some stories in my drafts for a long time now and I’m finally publicly sharing them.

This has been in my drafts since August 24th 2020...this was one of the drafts I was very hesitant to share...even though I have shared this with friends and I’ve made some edits. It’s good one of my friends @fishtankinhouse liked it. Her support means so much like other friends who I have shared with this. But I worried too much of what my Bioshock followers would think of it...

But alias, I am a paranoid person. Including I have thought of just posting some of these drafts because I’m so focused on the FNAF franchise now. Especially this AU has it’s fans. So here’s one of the drafts I was very nervous to share with you all.

Be warned. Including when I talked to Fishtankinhouse about this. This story while contains nothing extremely NSFW...but it’s on the focus of a man who is clearly experiencing PTSD and he does some things that are not good. Some aspects are the reason why I am not tagging it with other character tags. But that’s me being paranoid.

The week when Sofia Lamb took over Rapture was a startling one. Including with the Vox trying to fight back. But due to the Big Sisters they can’t fully beat them. Now with Archie and others trying to save Eleanor Lamb from Sofia. Including to reunite Subject Delta with his Little Sister. But also to some how transform Johnny Topside into a normal human being again. The man that was the reason Archie had a normal life in a way. Right now things weren’t as intense. Yet unknown to everyone. Archie was suffering the aftermath his interactions with Atlas. Who had turned out to be Frank Fontaine. With Archie learning his whole life was a lie, and among other things. He tried to keep his PTSD to himself. Not wanting to worry the people around him.

But what got worse...it was seeing HIM again. He couldn’t understand if who he was seeing was real. He had killed him personally, he died right in front of his own eyes....yet he appeared like a ghost. What was worse...Frank wasn’t speaking in his real voice. But that Irish accent that Archie found comfort in hearing over a radio. Now it was a haunting memory that plagued him.

Today...Archie would be doing something he would regret for a long time. Despite his intentions were good. He was sitting on a table in the middle of Tenenbaum’s safehouse. Most of the little sisters were with Delta, Daisy and Grace. He just had his hands on his face thinking. Things had gotten worse. The paranoia was getting to him. There were two things that were important to him. Brigid and Elizabeth. The kids were safe but the memories of what happened to those two women a while back affected him. What happened to his, “Family” after he left them with Atlas.

He heard the door open from upstairs, and he put his head up. A person who had came down was Elizabeth. She smiled when seeing him.

“Archie!” She said as she went over to hug him. But seeing him down made her question what was wrong. “Hey are you alright?” She asked him. “You look down....you wanna tell me something?” Elizabeth asked him as she sat in a chair near the table.

“No...I think I’m good. I’m just tired.” He told her. Despite what his actual feelings were.

“Oh okay....still you can tell me if you want. I can see your tired. But I thought you can go out with me search for other ways we can get to Sofia or something. Or even something to help Delta.” She told him. “We can help out some of the Vox if we can. I’d thought you can join me since we usually go together.” She continued on.

Hearing that made him nervous and he started to think some things. The paranoia was getting to him.

“Actually.....if you don’t mind. How about you stay behind.” He told her.

“....what?” She sounded surprised. “Hey it’s safe out there right now. There’s no Big Sisters or whatever else out there. Besides Grace is with us and it’s like a safe haven where those girls are at. We can visit them on the way if we can. Whatever you want to do. Besides I have your back like you have mine.” Elizabeth said.

“No...I really think you should stay in the shelter. While I go out. It’s better for you.” Archie told her. The look on Elizabeth’s face started to change. What was confused and then turned to a smile...turned to surprise and a little bit of disappointment.

“Why? Just...we’ve been going out of this safehouse for so long and now you want me to stay inside. Yet after what we’ve been through and you’re saying it’s better for me...I’m sorry I’m a little offended.” Elizabeth said sounding a little annoyed.

“No please understand I’m just trying to keep you safe. I’m trying to protect you-” Archie said.

“Well I’m trying to protect you too but I never said you should stay here.” Elizabeth told him. “That’s unlike you to say that. You have never said that. You never mind me being by you but now you’re saying that.” Elizabeth continued on.

“Listen please just say inside.” Archie told her.

“....no I am not. If you’re going out. I’m going to protect you like I always have. Like you always did with me. I don’t know why you’re wanting be a lone wolf right now.” Elizabeth told him sounding more angry.

“Jesus Christ just listen it’s for your own good okay now stop arguing with me!” Archie raised his voice a little.

“For my own good!? Are you kidding me? Don’t you dare tell me that it’s for my own good! You’re just like Ryan!” Elizabeth told him. Archie look confused. He didn’t know how to respond to something like that.

“Listen if you want to stay inside that’s fine. But I’m going despite what you’re saying.” She told him as she got up from the chair and began marching towards the stairs. Archie began to panic, he got up from his chair.

“Wait please just listen.” He said as he gently tries to stop her.

“JUST LEAVE ME ALONE PLEASE!” She yelled as she looked back at him. “I’M NOT GONNA BE TRAPPED AGAIN!” She yelled again as she was risking opening a tear in her anger. Seeing this he had to make a move. Either stop her, or risk the shelter being destroyed. He moved fast seeing this.

All of a sudden, both of her arms were grabbed and the tear wasn’t being opened. Elizabeth was surprised by this and started freaking out.

“WAIT ARCHIE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? LET ME GO! HELP!” Elizabeth cried out for help despite it wouldn’t of worked. She tried to get out of his arms. But he was unusually strong for who he was. He had a firm grip on her arms.

“I’M TRYING TO PROTECT YOU! YOU GOT THAT!” He raised his voice. She tried kicking her legs and moving as much as he can. But he had a very good grip on her. He held on to her and tried to find whatever to bind her. The duct tape on the table. He quickly used it to bind her arms and legs. But nothing extreme. He carried her and she was still yelling, he quickly took a strip of duct tape put it over her mouth.

“STOP DOING THIS HELP-MFPFGH!” Elizabeth cried out before being gagged. He just carried her, she tried squirming. Then they both heard someone.

“Elizabeth!?” It was Tenenbaum. She had gotten back safely from the train. Archie had to think quick. So he went to the room he and Elizabeth slept in and left her there. He closed the door and then to see Brigid walking fast down the stairs.

“Archie! Did you hear Elizabeth? She was yelling for help! Where is she at?” She asked him. “Wait did someone took her? How?” She continued on.

He couldn’t answer her, and then he tried to. “Elizabeth needs to stay here for her own safety. Trust me it’s for her own good.” He told her.

“What? No...that doesn’t make sense. Why would she need to stay here? It’s safe out there right now-” Tenenbaum talked before being interrupted by a kick to Elizabeth’s door and muffled screaming.

“Archie...is she in there? Archie what did you do?” Brigid started to ask him. Her voice started to get more worried as he face of fear slowly turned to anger.

“Listen just please understand she needs to stay here.” Archie told her, with him sounding worried.

“Archie! Did you tie up Elizabeth!? I’ll tell Sinclair or whoever else! Let me go in there to see Elizabeth!” Tenenbaum started yelling at him and then she noticed the duct tape he was holding. She should of noticed earlier.

“Archie...you didn’t! ARCHIE!” Tenenbaum said as she started insult him in Russian and German. He started to panic but thought quick. So he quickly ran towards her and grabbed her.

“ARCHIE!” She yelled out in confusion and anger. Archie didn’t want to hurt her. She was yelling and he grabbed her. Brigid couldn’t find back. But compare to Elizabeth, Brigid was tougher. So Archie had to really think about binding her up. He amazingly taped her thighs and calves together, forcing her to hug her knees and taping up her wrists to her legs and around her back like a ball. She kept yelling for help and insulting him in Russian and German. But he quickly went to the kitchen where he grabbed a sponge from under the sink. The sponge she even used to clean Delta if he was here. Brigid saw what he was gonna do.

“ARCHIE PLEASE DON’T STOP-MFPGH!” She said as he put the sponge into her mouth. He quickly wrapped the tape around her as best as possible. But he didn’t want to get that tape on her hair.

“My God I’m so sorry Brigid. Please forgive me.” He said to her as she was trying to yell through her gag. After he finished wrapping the silver tape around her mouth, he carried her to the pantry. She kept squirming. “Listen understand why I’m doing this. I’m trying to protect you two okay. You’ll be safe here. I’m gonna make sure Elizabeth doesn’t escape.” He told her as he put her down and closed the door on her. But he could still hear muffling screaming.

After that he went to the room Elizabeth and him would share. After Elizabeth was ungagged, she asked what he did to Brigid. He told her he tied and gagged her as well. She tried to get away but she couldn’t. Yet he wanted to make sure she was comfortable. In the room there was a soft armchair in that same room. He wanted to make sure she was comfortable while she was gone.

At first, Elizabeth was angry and fuming at him when he first bind and gagged her. But now during this as he sat her in the chair and her legs were still tied. Her tone changed. As she had become more sadder and scared for him. Especially when he started to tape her wrists to the arms of the chair. She couldn’t move them and he made sure they kept her there.

“Archie...I don’t know what’s gotten into you...but please let me go. Including let Brigid go please. We won’t tell anyone just please stop.” She told him as her voice sounded more sad.

“No you’re staying here. Please understand why I’m doing this.” He said as he done taping her wrists then going to a small table where he could find a small rag to gag her with.

“Oh God please no don’t. I won’t scream. I’ll be quiet please just please stop-mfpgh.” She was begging him before he gently put the gag in her mouth. He didn’t wanna make her feel uncomfortable. So he was careful with gagging her. After that he ripped a strip of duct tape from the tape roll. He smoothly placed the strip over he lips with his hands. Making sure it would stick on there. It was perfect. Just smoothing it with his thumbs. She was thoroughly gagged.

“No I’m sorry I’m not risking it. I know you would try to call for someone. But don’t worry I made it as comfortable as possible.” Archie told her. He stepped back to get a full look at her. She was in her usual student look or so. During that moment as she just stared at him. There was no longer anger. But right now, she was feeling hurt inside. That someone she loved so much and trusted did this to her. It felt like a betrayal of the deep trust they had.

She tried muffling to him and soon started to cry. But unknown to her as Archie just stood and watched her. He saw someone pop up to the left corner of his eye.

“Ah boyo....I’m proud of you honestly. Didn’t think you had it in ya. Gonna say that’s some fine work you did there. While I would of been rougher with her bounds. But still Arch...you make me proud.” Atlas was at his left side and saying this.

He knew he wasn’t real. This was just in his mind. But it bothered him. Archie tried to ignore it. Not even wanting to give the man attention.

“I’m also impressed you tied up Mother Goose. She was a tough cookie but good job lad. I loved how you put a sponge in her mouth. The one she actually used to clean Topside. I thought I was nasty gagging her with something that had my saliva in it. But you know Arch I was thinking. Your girl is tied up here. This is a once in a lifetime chance...unless she got taken again.” He was saying and then walked behind Elizabeth.

“I mean this is your chance right now. What about you do what any man would do.” He smugly looked at the young man as Atlas admired the terrified and sad young girl. “I mean nothing extreme right now. Maybe play with her boobs or look up her skirt. Or even give her a big messy kiss on that gag of hers. Trust me, I’m sure she’ll secretly love it.” He started to come back to Archie. “She’s just secretly trying to be desperate. I’m sure her big teddy bear would love to make out with her while she’s safe.” Atlas said as he walked around him back to his left.

“Please just shut up.” Archie then told him.

“Ah come on she had you tie her up once. This is just the next phase of that. Instead of you giving her a big soft hug as she just loves being close to you. How about be a little rough with her. It’s what I would of done. In fact how about give Tenenbaum a nice time. I’m sure she’ll love it too that our son started making up with her.” Atlas said with a smile.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Archie yelled at him....but there was nobody there. He just yelled at the wall. After that he then turned back to Elizabeth who started to whimper because of that yell. Her eyes were closed and she was actually crying.

“Please that wasn’t towards you I didn’t yell at you.” Archie walked to her to comfort her.

“MPFGH!” Elizabeth turned her head to the left and had her eyes closed. She didn’t wanna look at him. At the moment she felt terrified right now. This hurt Archie inside personally. Seeing that yell got her to be afraid.

“Please....understand that wasn’t towards you.” He said as he put his hands on her shoulders. She slowly started to look back towards him because of what he said. “I was yelling at someone else but I don’t know if you would understand.” He really wanted to make sure she felt safe. He just looked into her eyes for a good 10 seconds.

After that he gave her a kiss on the forehead. Then stroked her hair and wiping her tears with his fingers. “I love you so much....I never wanna hurt you. You mean so much to me. I’ll make sure that I’m careful as possible out there. I’m gonna search around in Rapture. Once things are safer, I’ll release you. In fact I’ll have Sinclair check up on you to keep you safe.” Archie was just holding her face. She felt that softness he usually brought her. “You’re going to be fine. But you have to say here. I don’t want you to be hurt.” He told her sounding sad in his voice.

After that he soon started to leave and turned off the lights, closing the door as Elizabeth started to whimper again.

As time went on, Elizabeth could only think to herself as she was stuck bound and gagged. What did he mean that he was yelling at someone else? Why was he acting like this? He never acted like this before. “Oh my God...why did he do this?” Elizabeth was thinking to herself.

She tried getting out of her bounds. Including she tried yelling through her gag. Hoping someone would hear. But it wasn’t working. He made sure the tape was bound tight and her gag was good enough. She felt thankful he didn’t make it tighter. Yet her mind was thinking so many things. But she wanted to understand his real reasoning behind this.

“HLPFHGH! HFLGHPH!” She yelled through her gag and started sobbing. She was so confused. But frightened as well. Yet even after that, she worried for his safety. She always worried about him. Because she watched his back and he watched her. Now for the next hour she would just have to sit there. The other thing on her mind if Brigid was hearing this.

In the pantry, Brigid tried getting out of her uncomfortable state. Being bound and gagged in a some what dusty and lightless cramped space. She needed to clean it. She tried yelling through the gag. Even trying to yell to Elizabeth in case. “ELIFHGZBEGHG!” The woman tried yelling her name. Because she was deeply concerned about that young woman.

She cared for her little ones despite how she thought of herself. But Elizabeth mattered too. It didn’t matter if she was 16 years older than the girl. She was like another daughter of hers. Someone who she knew from birth and watched her grew up. The fact Elizabeth showed kindness to her despite everything Brigid did said so much. They were different women. But like her little ones, she had this maternal instinct over the young woman. Especially when she saw Atlas get too close to her. Saying certain things and not wanting her to go through the same things she went through with Frank.

Especially she felt responsible about Elizabeth’s mother dying during birth. She wasn’t supposed to die, but the guilt grew with Brigid. She felt responsible to take care of that child. Including she was the reason she suggest Comstock for her last name.

The other thing she had worried about why Archie did this. The person who was the closest she had to an actual son did this. She started having her fears. Was he still being brainwashed? She tried her best to make sure he was in a normal state. What if Fontaine had a backup plan for him to do something. What if this was that result. That possibly if Frank was killed. Jack or in this case Archie was his back up plan. Yet he acted like he wasn’t being controlled.

She tried her hardest to get out of those bounds. Using every ounce of her strength. Especially to make sure Elizabeth was okay. Including the fear of what if Archie planned to tie up her little ones. But because of her trying so hard. There was growing pressure on her bladder. She was in a panic about wetting herself if she was found. She then decided to ease down on trying to get out of her bounds.

Brigid didn’t wanna panic so much. But was bringing up so many memories. She soon stopped yelling through her gag. Now she was just sitting there. But as she did, she felt the taste of the sponge. It reeked of salt, rust, oil, and other chemicals. God it was gross....but she was reminded of Delta. Thinking of the Big Daddy made her feel comfortable. Now she wanted him to come back and find her. Now Brigid was sitting there. Just thinking of Topside put her in ease. She didn’t wanna wet herself. Now she was just waiting, trying to think of what to do next.

An hour had passed. Sinclair wanted to check out what was going on here. He hadn’t seen the three in a bit. It seemed empty, but he went in. Including he brought back some of the Little Sisters who were with the others. As they were in the train.

“Well...I guess they aren’t here now...hopefully they wouldn’t mind me going into that pantry of there’s.” But once Sinclair had said that. He heard some muffled talking. “What?” As he opened the pantry he found Brigid. Still bound and gagged.

“Well....my my Tenenbaum.....I see you’re being a bit kinky right now.” Sinclair smugly told her.

“Mpfgh!” Brigid muffled through her gag. Of all the people to find her like this. It had to be Sinclair....someone she didn’t really get along with.

“I’m just wondering darling....did you do this to yourself if Delta came in here? Were you hoping to get that good ol Big Daddy aroused? I mean...I’ve sold some kinky things back in the day.....but I find it some what funny that of all people you would do that. I will admit...I like you better this way.” Sinclair was telling her. He was enjoying that for the first time, she wasn’t yelling at him.

“Mpfhg mfplgh!” Brigid muffled in annoyance. But with that Delta comment, she actually blushed. She hated being in this moment. Then Sally appeared behind him.

“Mama Tenenbaum?....are the grown ups playing a game Mr. Sinclair?” The young girl asked him. Behind her was Miranda. Seeing the two greatly concerned Brigid. She didn’t want her little ones to see her or Elizabeth this way after what Archie did.

“I don’t know little one...maybe....hey how about you two go back in the train. Me and....Mama Tenenbaum are speaking. She’s maybe fine.” The girls listened to him. Thank God he told them to go back into the train. “Seriously I do wonder what’s with you like this. Honestly I feel like this seems to be a tread with you...again I love seeing you this way. You aren’t yelling at me, or whatever else. So maybe you being like this is great for you.” Sinclair told her.

“MFPGH!” She yelled through the gag as she was becoming more annoyed.

“Okay okay doc! I get you want me to take that gag off. But how about you be more civil about it. If I take that gag off. You’re not gonna yell at me okay sweetheart?” Sinclair asked her. Brigid just looked to the ground, and she nodded yes when she looked back at him.

“Alright good darling. Well then you gagged yourself good. But you didn’t touch your hair.” He told her as he was taking the tape off. “Holy moses a sponge....well that’s something. Uck that’s something huh?” He continued on.

“Archie did this.” Brigid finally said something after he took the sponge out.

“Wait...Archie? You mean soldier boy? The young gentleman? He did this.” Sinclair asked sounding very surprised.

“Yes....he did....please just untie me. He tied up Elizabeth. Now please get the rest of this tape off. I need to piss.” Brigid told him. She sounded so tired.

“Oh my...just.....I don’t even know what to think with that information.” Sinclair said.

“Please just get this tape off. I need to go.” Brigid told him.

“Alright doc I can do that.” He told her as he got the rest of the tape off. He helped get her up. “Want me to walk you to the bathroom since you’re feeling frail. You’re not even that old yet. But I mean....don’t know if you’ll like you’ll piss yourself on the way there.” He told her as a perverted comment.

“You’re a dumkopf!” She says to him as she shoves him away. Besides...please call Archie. I can handle myself.” Brigid told him.

“I can do that. Besides I think it be best for me to call him while you handle yourself.” As she went to the bathroom. He started talking through the radio to get to Archie.

“Hey son it’s me Sinclair......yeah I just wanted to call you after I let Tenenbaum out of the pantry....now slow down kid. Listen while I’ve been friendly with you. But right now because Tenenbaum told me to call you. She’s pissing in the bathroom.”

“YOU’RE A DUMKOPF!” Brigid yelled at him.

“Yes I know honey. Now listen because you’re out there with Delta. Please get back here. I think you need to have a talk with these ladies you consider family......kid....I’m not gonna say this once. And this isn’t a request. I DEMAND you to get your ass back here, untie Elizabeth, and make amends so you can handle this like actual adults. I’m only gonna say this once soldier boy. Because hearing you tied up that really nice young lady you love...I’m sorry I’m just disappointed because I appreciated how kind you are. Just get back here please.” Sinclair told him through the radio. Sounding like a disappointed parent. Because of being disappointed that Archie of all people would of done that.

“What’s a dumkopf?” Miranda asked. She was still around along with Sally. When Brigid heard this, she felt so embarrassed.

“Dumkopf means nothing dear. Just go back outside with the others. Everything is okay.” Brigid said as she pushed them along. Despite what the real situation was. After that she went back to the bathroom and closed the door.

Archie came back in 20 minutes and untied Elizabeth. Some of the Little Sisters had came back. But after Archie came back. Brigid started spewing German insults at him, and telling the Little Sisters to stay away from him. They were really confused of what was going on. With Tenenbaum saying he was in trouble. What made it worse that Sally and Miranda said it looked like they were playing a game of cops and robbers or something. That maybe Archie forgot to untie them after he was done. This saddened Brigid hearing they were discussing this.

He kept away from the kids. Even after he untied Elizabeth, she didn’t wanna look at him. She kept away from him and stuck with Brigid. Now after many hours since that. With the girls sleeping. It was 8 pm now during that Wednesday night. The three were in Archie and Elizabeth's room. Brigid was just pacing a bit with her right hand on her chin. Elizabeth was just sitting on the bed, with Archie just standing looking at them.

"Listen I can explain Brigid please understand-" Archie tried telling her but was interrupted by her.

"How dare you do that to her! After everything we've been through and what you've done for us! Did you plan on doing that to the little ones!?" Brigid said in anger.

"No I would never-" Archie said before being interrupted again.

"Imagine if they saw you doing that to me or Elizabeth!? They were scared and confused why you couldn't be around them. Including Sally and Miranda were talking about it and they think we were playing a game. But they don't know the full truth. They were heart broken they couldn't play with you....I'm actually heart broken too." Brigid sounding more sad now.

She tried calming down a bit more. Trying to not wake her little ones.

"Archie if you were anyone else I would shoot you right now." She said sounding angry. "But to my little ones you're like the big brother they never had. I'm just disappointed in the example you set....I'm just shocked. You say it's to protect us but how is that?.....is the WYK programming still affecting you?" She asked him.

"What just I just....no you made sure I couldn't be controlled." Archie told her.

"We don't know that for sure because I'm worried Fontaine may of done something. I'm just scared of how you would be around the little ones....I just...I'm disappointed...I really am." Brigid started to sound more sad.

Then Elizabeth stood up from the bed. She wanted to say something finally.

"Archie.....I still love you. I can still see you're a good person. But what you did today I feel kind of ruined my trust with me.....you saw how scared I was?...you saw me actually crying." Elizabeth told him. Sounding upset.

Archie didn't say anything. He just looked at her.

"Archie you were the first person to treat me like a human being. You didn't care that I had these powers or this giant Proto-Daddy guarding me. You looked at me and saw a person. You wanted to make sure I was okay when I was with you. Because you kept me safe, and I kept you safe. And when you found out you weren't who you were exactly. Me, and Tenenbaum were there. We wanted to make sure you were okay. You gave us support, you gave me support. It was my turn to help you." Elizabeth continued on.

"Archie I can forgive you. But I was really hurt by what you did today. I was hurt by the fact you didn't trust me enough. Maybe if we remained calm and you could teach me to fight. I still love you....but still." Elizabeth was about to talk more and reveal why it really hurt her. "What you did reminded me so much of how Ryan and Frank treated me. I was scared, and I thought you wouldn't of come back. But you did. The way they treated me, bound, and gagged me. Yet you came back. You make me so happy. Because you make me so comfortable that the world isn't really a horrible place. I even let you tied me up once and maybe more because I trusted you. You made me feel safe." Elizabeth said as it seemed like she would of started crying.

"Wait...you actually went through with it?" Brigid asked. Being shocked by the fact that Elizabeth admitted about the consensual bondages session she had with Archie. "Oh my...." She said.

"Yes I did. Because I felt safe with you Archie. You made me feel like the world to you.....like I actually had someone watching over me." Elizabeth said as she had tears forming in her eyes. But sounding angry.

It was silent for 10 seconds. Then Archie finally said something.

"I am so sorry......but there is something wrong with me....I've been seeing Atlas in my head....Frank." Archie told them. The two women both got surprised looks on their faces.

"I don't know why I am seeing him. But considering what you said about the programming Brigid....maybe that's why he's in my head. He says things that make me upset. He was the one I was yelling at after I tied up Elizabeth. He was telling me to do what any man would do...to playing with your boobs or see up your skirt. Or even give you a big messy kiss on your gag or have a good time with Tenenbaum! Oh God I hear hearing that Irish accent.....I hate hearing his voice. I don't know why he's in my head I KILLED HIM!" Archie started yelling as he put his heads on his head.

The two women flinched at that one yell. They were shocked and felt very uncomfortable hearing that. Elizabeth instinctively touched her mouth in fear when she heard about a threatened gag kiss. This brought up memories when Atlas revealed who he was. It felt like she was reliving that moment. Brigid looked at Elizabeth. Then back to Archie to try to calm him down.

"Archie...it's okay.....don't yell...please don't wake up the children." Brigid told her.

"My God I've been traumatized by what happened. I kept my emotions in. I thought everything was going good till Sofia took over Rapture. I'm terrified if something similar happens to you two again. I said too much I just want to be honest with you two. Oh my fucking God! You two make me so happy. I'M JUST SO PARANOID!" Archie yelled again. His PTSD was kicking in. He was finally breaking yet again. He actually started crying.

The women flinched again. He didn’t raise his voice like that at them. But Brigid quickly broke away from her filched state. The man wasn’t in a good state.

"Shh shh Archie stop it's okay." Brigid walks towards him. She put her hands on his face. "Archie......look at me please. If you were my biological son. I would be proud of you. You've done so much good. But please be honest with me. Don't hold all those feelings in." Brigid tried comforting him.

"I was trained not to share that stuff. I mean the place were in." Archie told her.

"I understand that but this isn't the surface. This place is different than being up there. I understand why you wanted to do. But if you really want us to be safe. Please let us speak. Be honest with us. Bind us only when we want to be bound." Brigid told him and comforting him. "I love you. Elizabeth loves you. So many people love you. Please just talk to us. Don't put that weight on yourself." After Brigid told him that. She hugged him.

Elizabeth just watched. She decided to walk over there and joined in the hug as well.

"Archie...again I love you. We all trusted Atlas....don't think we don't know how you feel. You're so selfless to make sure we don't go through that again. You don't have to go through this alone." Elizabeth said.

"I forgive you Archie." Brigid said as well.

"Even if I'm still upset...I still forgive you." Elizabeth said as she hugged him tighter.

Archie just stood there being embraced by them. With tears down his eyes. He finally said something. "Thank you two...so much." As he embraced them as well.

The three just stood there embracing each other for a good minute. Then Archie finally said something. "Hey Elizabeth.....do you want me to sleep alone tonight?" He asked her.

"Don't worry I'm still gonna sleep with my teddy." Elizabeth said with a warm smile. Confirming they can still sleep in the same bed as her. Then surprising to them the door opened. It was Sally who opened the door.

"Is everything okay?" Sally asked with Miranda right behind her. The three just looked at them. Brigid broke away from the hug to go to the two children.

"Is it okay my little ones. The grown ups were having a grown up conversation. We're sorry that we woke you up. Would we like me to read you a story?" Brigid told them.

"Hey Brigid." Elizabeth came behind her. "How about I read them a story. I think you need some rest anyway. Besides I enjoy reading to them." Elizabeth said as the two little girls got excited when they heard that. The idea of reading them a bedtime story always made Elizabeth happy. It's what she needed right now. Everyone needed rest that night.

#bioshock rebirth

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artofmorehq · 5 years ago

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OUT OF CHARACTER

NAME/ALIAS: Shantel / shan

AGE: 23

PRONOUNS: she/her

IN CHARACTER – BASICS

FIRST/LAST NAME: Ashton Ryder

AGE: 78 / died at 26

PRONOUNS: he/him

OCCUPATION (MUSE, ARTIST, ETC.): Muse | DIA

FACE CLAIM: Luke Mitchell

3 POSITIVE TRAITS: Loyal, Tenacious, Protective

3 NEGATIVE TRAITS: Altruistic, Secretive, Yes-man

IN CHARACTER – DETAILS (OPTIONAL)

[“I’m not a m o n s t e r. I swear. I just.. had orders.”]

t.w. torture

Space.

One day, I’m gonna go up into space!

That was all Ashton ever really thought about as a kid, zooming around pretending that he was in a spaceship ready to land on Pluto (because Pluto is the absolutely coolest). He was one of those that believed that dreams will come true if you try hard enough, those wide-eyed bushy tail kids. And when NASA established themselves in 1958, it was like a little spark that lit in him to join them. Of course, 16 year old Ashton couldn’t simply just waltz into NASA and charm them with sad puppy dog eyes to get privileged training. And seeing how most of the astronauts were chosen through being pilots or being military, he signed on with the US army almost immediately.

It didn’t seem like such a bad route to go to, he soon found his niche in the medical side of the military, working from the shadows and helping soldiers, and starting to really enjoy his time there. Even though some of the times got really ugly, he kept his smile on and his head held high, believing it’s all going to be worth it. With a solid record in the army, he applied to NASA with their testimony after his unit was withdrawn. It took him three tries before they finally picked him for the Candidate Programme. Who would’ve known that at 22, he’d be this close to being able to go out there, into the stars?

The worst part about training is knowing that not everyone makes it there. What would they be training for if that’s the case? For that one in a million chance to make it. The whole candidate programme just kept on training, some got picked, some dropped out, and the rest kept going. After four years Ashton heard his name called out during a morning announcement; the team for yet another mission for project Apollo; Apollo 8, a four-men mission to orbit around the moon. Though he was just there young and naive, hell they might even cut him off, but it was a chance. To hear his name called, to see what Earth looks like from above, to make it all worth it.

They spent most of 1968 training for launch, all they did was eat, breathe, and sleep for the launch, physically, mentally and emotionally preparing for, the worst case scenario, a one way trip. Somehow war had long prepared him on so many levels already.

So he thought he was ready for the life he planned out.

On one of those late night training, Ashton had headed home, yet never reaching his doorstep. Screams of pain were drowned out by the hand clamping down hard over his mouth, body burning from blinding pain through his back getting colder, almost certain that was it for him. Everything numbed away, but he recovered his senses to see not his Apollo team, but a whole bunch of strangers, limbs chained down to the bed, and scared was an understatement.

They gave him a night to rest, they hardly explained anything, they kept him on a sedative, they sat him down with someone, everyday, a scientist - Maya, they being the DIA. or FBI, they blurred together to him. Somehow with his military and astronomy background, and some chance killing him would pay off in a revival, they thought he’d be useful to them. Some fucking recruitment this was. All NASA did was a cover up that he died during training and gave him a proper military funeral, hoping to give closure for the missing astronaut.

Ashton thought he was going to calmly figure out what happened, and then they made the pain come back again. He was confused, in pain, and just wanted it to end, everything to stop. Follow our advice and you’ll be safe. You’ll be fine soon. I promise. Promise? He took their word for it, and believed, like he always did. Do this experiment, join this mission, eliminate this target, tell us what you see, tell us what the universe says. He did what he did that he thought would make it go away.

Just take their advice for a few years, try and adapt to.. whatever this new thing is, and then maybe leave them and go back to NASA. Just a couple of months.. 3 years. 6 years. 10 years. 25. 35. 50. Advice turned into orders, and Ashton doesn’t even blink twice before obeying them. It started off easy; hand-eye coordination experiments, intelligence tests, recon missions, sitting with Maya, talking about space, astrophysics problem solving. Then it got worse; lead a mission’s intel, sit with Maya, assassinate a target, sit with Maya, torture a captured suspect, sit with Maya. They just kept whispering back in his ear, “You don’t want the pain to come back, do you?”

For 50 years, underneath the Washington HQ, he was used as a tool, a weapon, day in day out. Maya was the only anchor to some kind of sanity, to talk about space, to talk about anything, it was just so easy with her. Yet Ashton was desensitised and lost himself somewhere in the pool of blood he spilt and the pile of bodies he stacked up. To the point where he felt nothing. He was nothing. He can hardly remember who he was before all of this.

Nothing but their good little s o l d i e r.

Ashton never thought it would end, until it did, until Maya left him a letter and never came back. And he could feel it, the rip in his soul when it happened, like someone tore his heart leaving him bleeding in a pain even they couldn’t inflict on him. The complete absolute knowledge that she was gone - that she ripped them apart herself. Suddenly everything came to a standstill.

“What are my orders?” every day he would ask, not sure of what to do anymore, he was just lost. It was like without Maya, suddenly he was useless here. Every day, he continued to ask the same question. Until he finally got an answer: “Your orders are to move to New York.”

Current Mission Active | Locate NYC Muses

—-

TLDR; Enlisted in the army at 16 (1958), military medic till 22, apart of the Vietnam war(1962), join NASA astronaut candidate programme, was finally chosen for one of the Apollo programmes at 26. Died at 26 (1968) as recruited by the DIA, resident Muse as an experiment and agent until the death of his artist 76 (2018), ordered to live in NYC. Current Mission Loading.. Locate NYC Muses

—-

Personality Types

MBIT type: ISFJ, The Defender

+ Supportive, Reliable and Patient, Observant, Loyal and Hardworking

- Humble and Shy, Represses their feelings, Overload themselves, Too Altruistic

Altruistic and well-rounded, no other personality type is so well-suited to be of service of others. They can always be relied on to get the job done on time. They are rarely sitting idle while a worthy cause remains unfinished. They have a tendency to underplay their accomplishments, and while their kindness is often respected, more cynical and selfish people are likely to take advantage of ISFJs’ dedication and humbleness by pushing work onto them and then taking the credit.

Hogwarts house: Huffledor Trustworthy, Tenacious | Chivalry, Brave

Astrological sign: Scorpio Loyal, Secretive, Self Reliant, Brooding, Protective

Alignment: Lawful Neutral

A lawful neutral character acts as law, tradition, or a personal code directs him. Order and organization are paramount to her. He may believe in personal order and live by a code or standard, or he may believe in order for all and favor a strong, organized government. Whether a law is good or evil is of no import as long as it brings order and meaning. A lawful neutral character will keep his word if he gives it and will never lie. He may attack an unarmed foe if necessary. He will never harm an innocent. He may use torture to extract information, but never for pleasure. He will never kill for pleasure, only in self-defense or in the defense of others. Or when ordered to do so.

Muse: http://shantelchiitriestowrite.tumblr.com/tagged/ch%3A-Ashton

Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/user/1190435857/playlist/26VzIdKqRXiPBjzBxknVbR

#queue #fc:lukemitchell #ch:ashtonryder #mun:shan #character #muse

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derangedsilence · 5 years ago

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Karlheinz

Permissions

Please feel free to check any of the Sakamaki Bros.’ permission lists. It’s pretty repetitively the same.

The only exceptions:

Shipping - Within any verse he’s participating in, it’s entirely possible for him to form romantic and/or sexual partnerships with anyone who suits his needs, fancy, etc. Canonically had three wives, you know what you’re signing up for if you aim for this. However, as Karlheinz is very good at controlling his partners to suit his needs, I would prefer that many of his romances not get commented on by the public unless they’re somewhere they could be witnessed or if the individual themselves talks about it. Feel free to ask me!

Participation - Hop into getting involved in plots and storylines! Just do the dashboard commentary thing and tag this blog so I can be sure to see it. This much is the same. However, for some people, plots will need to have certain secrets kept, etc. until later. You’re still welcome to get involved, but it might be better to discuss with me and any other involved players how to participate instead of commenting on the grapevine for those particular plot aspects.

Biography / Stats

FULL NAME. Karlheinz ALIAS. Tougo Sakamaki, Reinhart AGE. Appears 35-45 || Actually significantly older at 2000+ BIRTHDAY. Unknown GENDER & PRONOUNS. Male, he/him ORIENTATION. Heteroflexible. He’ll play it up for whoever can be used. SPECIES. Vampire. OCCUPATION. Vampire King (of the demon world), Japanese politician, school nurse... RESIDENCE. Someplace in the demon world, but visits the Sakamaki household from time to time.

HAIR. White, reddish/purple-ish EYES. Golden BUILD. “What the fuck, man, it’s like you’re photoshopped.” HEIGHT. 6'2'' ADDITIONAL NOTES. A known shapeshifter, not even his sons are sure they’ve seen his real form. He can easily appear as a man, a woman, etc. to suit his needs.

ZODIAC. I Hate You, Vampire Dad is a zodiac, right? ALIGNMENT. Unknown. POSITIVE TRAITS. intelligent, charming, goal-oriented NEGATIVE TRAITS. merciless, sees people as means to an end, lacks the ability to feel deep emotional attachment

BIRTH PLACE. Japan NATIONALITY. Japanese PARENTS. Unknown SIBLINGS. Sibling: Richter. Wives: Beatrix, Cordelia, Christa (also his cousin). Sons: Shuu, Reiji, Ayato, Kanato, Laito and Subaru Sakamaki EXTENDED FAMILY. Adopted Sons: Ruki, Kou, Azusa and Yuma Mukami. Bastards: Kino, apparently? EDUCATION. Unknown SPECIES. Vampire NOTABLE SKILLS. Being the worst dad ever, running extremely complicated and often successful experiments, is charming enough to be able to convince people who are fully aware of his nature that he really is sincere for them specifically, etc. LANGUAGES. All of them FAVORITE FOOD. The fruits of his labor

PUREBLOOD. Inhuman strength, increased speed, vision, hearing, and smell. Fast healing & healing saliva. TELEPORTATION. Can teleport instantaneously. FLYING. He can fly. SWORDSMANSHIP. S OTHER. In addition to the racial abilities of a pureborn vampire, he also possesses the highest level of magic in the Demon World and his power is considered by his race, as a whole, as well as his sons, as “Godlike”. Karlheinz is capable of unleashing his magic and destroying the entire Demon World. In addition, he can shapeshift and change his appearance as it suits him. Oh, did we mention he also has the ability to MANIPULATE TIME and REVERSE EVENTS until he’s satisfied? WEAKNESSES. None? DISLIKES. People not doing what he wants them to do in his experiments.

Appearance

*Will be updated as various ‘personae’ are implemented.

As ‘Karlheinz’, at least as most of his sons know him: A pale-haired, golden-eyed figure who dresses in extravagant capes. His hair falls past his knees in waves and he looks absolutely ethereal.

As ‘Reinhart’, the school nurse, he is pale with blond hair wrapped into a ponytail and wears glasses.

Personality

One of the most powerful creatures in the demon world, he is viewed by the vampires (the bat clan) as a God. Which may or may not affect his personality, but the fact is that it is universally understood that a man that’s over 2000 years old is in want of a new life goal. Or death.

INTELLIGENT AND MANIPULATIVE: Karlheinz rarely directly engages these days, usually pulling strings in the background. He manipulates for the better and for worse, only determined to get closer to his personal goals. If that heals some and hurts others, so be it.

AFFECTION: It’s well-known that demons do not experience the same emotions as humans, or at least, they do not act on nor feel them the way humans would. Even within the “emotions” and “bonds” of demons, Karlheinz is incapable of deep affectionate sentiments and believes that all demons are similarly incapable. He is obsessed with human emotions despite or because of his inability, glorifying them and incorporating them into his new demonkind 3.0 ideas. His inability to feel this deep affection doesn’t save him from confusion and hesitant behavior on the rare occasion his plans and experiments are not succeeding.

It’s worth noting that he is considerably kinder when engaging with humans, as he blatantly punishes his own kind for their very nature (of which he is entirely aware). However, humans break much more easily, so this may be a necessity for engaging those tools compared to his sons.

FAMILY: His sons, wives, etc. are all tools and test subjects with which to create a new race and “save” the Demon World. If they become failed experiments, he has no issue disposing of them himself. When it comes to his kids, he’s extremely neglectful but does not hesitate to order their punishment when they displease him. He’s imprisoned Laito, sent Shuu to the North Pole, and tossed Subaru into the ocean. Most of his abuse was directly on his wives and directly affected how they would raise their sons, however, for which most of the Sakamaki children loathe him.

PRINCE CHARMING: Karlheinz excels at charming and manipulating others. As with Cordelia, he promises everything to obtain them, spoils them, and then acts in whatever manner best executes his experiment.

History

Under construction.

Quick summary: Really good contender for ‘worst dad’ and ‘worst vampire dad’ awards.

Verses

Brief summaries of the verses for Karlheinz along with potential links for those less familiar with Diabolik Lovers but still want to interact with him. For the sake of keeping things clean, encouraging community-wide and cooperative storytelling in roleplay, and not letting things get too crazy, verses will be limited. More may be made over time as needed.

Summaries:

VERSE - HAUNTED DARK BRIDAL

Karlheinz is...somewhere. Doing things. Like usual.

*This verse will be typically be the default, 'main verse'. In this, it is assumed that Yui Komori is staying at the Sakamaki household with some version of the first game having taken place. If the second game is included, it's with the idea that Yui stayed with the Sakamakis.

Verse Details | Tag: #V; KARLHEINZ; HAUNTED DARK BRIDAL

VERSE - MORE BLOOD

Karlheinz is somewhere doing things, but now there’s Mukamis!

If for some reason it's absolutely necessary to differentiate between the verse above and a verse where More Blood has certainly occured, but Yui did not (at least initially) stay with the Sakamakis and instead is currently living with the Mukamis or was, until recently, still living with the Mukamis. Rivalry abounds and attempts to procure Yui are likely.

Verse Details | Tag: #V; KARLHEINZ; MORE BLOOD

VERSE - MISC.

Posts that could take place in the Sakamaki or Mukami verses but involve duplicates (whether Yui or others) in the same scene in a manner that would be hard to pass off as typical flow for those verses. Also includes nearly ANY time fellow characters are staying at the mansion, otherwise we’d end up with verses of 20+ additional characters hanging out in the Sakamaki villa.

Verse Details | Tag:#V; KARLHEINZ; MISC

SITUATIONAL VERSE TAGS

#V; KARLHEINZ; UNIVERSAL

Posts that can easily be assumed to have occured in either the Sakamaki or Mukami verses, typically answering asks, etc. that aren’t directly related to events unique to their timelines.

#V; KARLHEINZ; WHAT IFS & #V; KARLHEINZ; ONESHOTS

Likely reserved for one-off threads exploring a “what if”, a romantic meme that would otherwise be inappropriate, etc. If a meme doesn’t quite fit with one of the existing timelines, it’ll get one of these.

Trivia

Successfully cucked by Richter for years, but he kind of encouraged it to begin with so who really loses?

Can and will wear you out in the bedroom and leave you a flower to wake up to in the morning.

Gave Reiji a pocketwatch that shows how much time is left until the end of the world. Demon world? Human world? Who knows.

Really just wanted to know if Shuu would actually fight back against polar bears when he sent him to the north pole. Now he knows.

“Even when he loses, he wins” is a theme with this guy. I hate him, too. I know.

Tags

THREAD / WRITING TAG: #echoes in the halls; karlheinz

HEADCANONS: #hc; dialovers; karlheinz

IMAGES: #itt // karlheinz

MUSIC: #music; dialovers; karlheinz

#blog; stuff #blog; muses

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diveronarpg · 5 years ago

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Congratulations, JULIE! You’ve been accepted for the role of TAMORA. Admin Rosey: Trinity is one of the characters that I had the most fun writing -- she very much evolved from my initial concept with her and has grown into this very independent entity that needs someone just as strong as she is to portray her. Writing her isn’t an easy task, nor is capturing the nuances of her character while maintaining a circumspect view of who she has the potential to become. Julie, I honestly don’t know how, but you managed to do all that and more. Trinity is very much welcome to step on all of Verona’s neck. Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

Out of Character

Alias | Julie

Age | 19

Preferred Pronouns | She/her/hers

Activity Level | 6/10, I think, with replies coming every other day - we can only hope.

Timezone | MST

Current/Past RP Accounts | Santino + Loretta

In Character

Character | Tamora / Trinity Zakarian

What drew you to this character? | Am I allowed to say everything? From her past, her present, to her potential future, I think everything about Trinity just absolutely fascinates me. The deliberate choices she has to make in her every day life just to walk among other people and be perceived as what she wants them to see is so interesting. It’s not necessarily just a woman performing for a nonexistent audience repeatedly because she feels she has to. It’s more of someone who could be perceived as almost otherworldly performing for an audience that is watching her, at all times. Trinity pulls the strings to her own marionette and is fully aware of that.

There’s always some sort of purpose behind what she does: she smiles half an inch wider because she knows that people will find the way it tugs at the line of her face more familiar. She stands with her spine rimrod straight because that’s what comforted her mother most when she looked at Trinity like she was some sort of animal in her own home. She stabs her wife thirteen times in the chest because she knows it will allow for a shallow mockery of the last few moments she had with her son. Verona is a city full of Gods, people worth revering, and Trinity chooses not to worship them time and time again. She has no feelings of reverence towards Cosimo, or Damiano, or even Fortinbras, even if he’s the one who originally brought her here, and if she ever were to feel that way, she’d choose to stamp them out under her heel.

There’s also the matter of this concept of warmth and humanity that Trinity feels is fully out of reach for her. She’s tried time and time again to connect in the way other people can and just can’t; she got a glimpse out of the corner of her eye, for some time. Maybe she held it in her hands for a little while before dropping it when she gave birth to her son. What happened to Alyosha is tragic, without a doubt, and it hurts my heart just to think about it. I think Trinity’s played those last few moments over and over in her head to see if she can pin down the exact moment she went from a woman to a corpse all over again. I think it’s interesting that Trinity knows wires have crossed at some point which shouldn’t have been crossed, and something that’s not supposed to be firing is sparking anyways. She’s sought out human connection over and over, and it seems to slip between her fingers every time. I’d love to explore that more thoroughly.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

LET THIS WASP NOT OUTLIVE, US BOTH TO STING: Trinity's good at hiding; that much is obvious. She can mask even the ugliest of emotions with relative ease; making people think she's something she's not isn't a difficult feat. In Titus Andronicus, Queen Tamora bides her time by marrying Saturninus to save her own skin and get revenge. In sort of the same vein, I can see Tamora either going undercover in the Capulets somehow or forming a relationship of some kind with one of them to provide leverage over the Capulets for the Montagues. She's only just re-arrived in Verona, but like her bio says, her roots already run deep into the soil by the time February’s arrived. She's got nothing to lose and plenty to gain; donning a veil of warmth and affection towards a Capulet for whatever they'll give her in return could go far. And if she ends up reaching into their chest to claim their heart for her own, all the better: she craves warmth like roses crave the sun in the heat of summer.

TITUS, I AM INCORPORATE IN ROME, A ROMAN NOW ADOPTED HAPPILY: Faron brought Trinity to Verona with a purpose, and that purpose in my mind was likely to use her actions to vault himself to a position of power. But Faron is dead, and any motivations for his relationship with Trinity are buried with him. She can't speak with the dead, as much as she wishes she could some nights, if only to hear her son's voice. She has no skill in divining the future. This really depends on the direction of the game and what the other players on the table, but in the hands of Gertrude, Antony, Laertes, or even Romeo, I feel she has the potential to help turn the tides for the Montagues in the same way she did for Faron. There’s no love lost between Fortinbras and Tamora—give her the opportunity to claim what she wishes, and she’ll bark for someone as much as she’ll bite.

THRICE NOBLE TITUS, SPARE MY FIRST BORN SON: This one is a little far out there, so please bear the fuck with me. Trinity, if she were to ever discover just what Vivianne did to her own son (who, keep in mind, when abandoned was the same age as Alyosha when he died), would set her sights on Vivianne and wouldn't stop until she felt satisfied. Whether that means Vivianne's death, or throwing a big enough wrench into her plans that she falters in the face of Cosimo, Trinity's willing to take whatever opportunities are presented to her. This sort of goes in-hand with wanting to explore just how deeply Alyosha's death has impacted her; I don't think Trinity's ever looked it head-on in the mirror, and confronting Vivianne might finally give her the chance to see in herself what everyone else has over the course of the last year and a half.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Let her reunite with the one person she truly cared about :)

In Depth

In-Character Para Sample:

TW FOR MURDER

The claiming of Hotel Emelia is a droll affair, in much the same way she’d expected it to be. It’s also a quick one: from the time she and Ronan are approaching the front desk to waiting patiently for the elevator to reach the top floor and look for those who might remain, it takes twenty minutes. Maybe half an hour. The elevator lets out a soft ding to indicate it’s reached its final destination.

There are only two guests on this floor, but it doesn’t stop Trinity from reveling in the way the attendant shakes as she unlocks each and every door with the master key. They all creak open, slowly, to reveal nothing but a dark room and some neatly-made beds. Ronan’s shaking with barely-restrained excitement and impatience by the time they reach the end of the hall.

“You want to get done, Richard. You have plan, after this, hm? Usually you go slow.” she asks, as the woman with SOFIA on her name-tag trembles so much she nearly drops the key. Trinity watches as Ronan presses the end of his M22 closer to her spine, harshly enough to make her jump.

“I’ve got some house calls to make, Tamora,” he tells her, like that explains why he’s rushing through this with a near primordial if not sadistic focus. It doesn’t matter. He’s a bizarre specimen, even among the Montagues, same as she -- it’s why they’re the perfect pair for this sort of task. The door clicks open. This room is not empty like the others; the lamp on the desk is on, and the shower is running in the bathroom.

She looks over her shoulder: “I’ll take it. You can cut chaff from rest of wheat. Be good.” When she shoots him a pointed look, he shrugs, but chooses not to say a word. Wise of him.

She enters the room, closes the door behind her. It makes a sound close to a whisper when it thuds shut, and it’s only when Trinity can hear Ronan limping away with the clerk’s tapping footsteps just ahead that she proceeds. With one hand she reaches for her knife, and the other for the bathroom handle. It opens, she’s pleased to discover. Steam rushes past her as she encroaches further.

Whoever it is in the shower, they’ve got their back turned towards the spray, a hand running through their hair. She reaches out, black painted nails grasping the shower curtain -- and smiles in outright delight when the man behind it screams loudly enough to be heard for miles.

The first time she’d ended someone’s life with a knife and nothing more, Trinity’d been shocked to discover just how easy it was. There had been no resistance. By now, it’s almost mundane, like chopping vegetables for a stew. One after the other, right into the pot.

Rivulets of red run down her arms, stain the front of her vest, and all the man does is watch in mixed terror and confusion. It’s close to what she wants, but not quite enough. She wants fear. Terror. Downright horror. Oftentimes when an individual is stabbed it feels like being punched, before the sympathetic nervous system starts doing its proper work. There are maybe a blissful thirty seconds of confounded gasping, pleading, and scrabbling to pull her hands away from him before he drops like a sack of bricks. This nameless creature, whoever he is, whatever he did? He dies gasping on the floor of the too-small shower. His blood is still warm, at first. but it’s soon cooled by the running shower. It’s as disheartening a realization when she sees the shower has aided in removing most of it from her hands, too.

She watches the rest run down the drain, and then steps out and leaves him there. Any mark of what she’s done is, for the most part, washed clean before it had the chance to stain. She gives herself a passing glance in the mirror. Raises one corner of the mouth, then the other, and smiles at herself with all her teeth. It’s like looking at a stranger and her closest friend all at once, her eyes lit up like the stars. Smile for the cameras.

Ronan is waiting for her in the hall, the clerk next to him, tapping out a text to Damiano - she can only assume. If she’s right, it will read something like food is waiting on your desk. Some foolish, stupid little signal.

She nods at Sofia, clearing her throat. Ronan glances up, turns the phone off, slips it into his pocket. “What are we doing with her?”

“Her?” He’s already looking away. Wonderful.

When Trinity steps closer, the young woman shakes like a leaf. It worsens when she raises her hand and smears whatever remains of the man’s blood over her mouth — it ruins whatever lip gloss Sofia's chosen to wear for her shift that night, without a doubt. For a moment, Trinity wonders if she’s going to vomit. She smiles, and reaches back to wind her her fingers through Sofia’s blond hair. It’s dirty-gold in hue. She’s sure it shines under the sun, but in the overhead lighting of the Emelia, it looks dull. Flat.

Sacha’s had been so light it’d been close to silver. Trinity can remember the way her wife had purred whenever she’d played with it, even when it was something as simple as fingertips ghosting over her scalp. She presses her mouth into a thin line before speaking with some resignation. “You did very good, solnyshko.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Sofia whispers, staring at Trinity with eyes wide. Like a doe. Not a doe. A fawn might be better.

“I do,” Trinity replies, and the woman lets out a pitiful wail in response.

“You don’t have to do this, please, I have a daughter, my husband, a family, I only just got hired, I won’t tell a soul-” she’s quivering with it, and when she collapses to the floor and grabs at Trinity’s legs to plead, her hands cold and clammy, Tamora goes with her. There they sit, on their knees together: Sofia, sobbing, mouth wide open in resigned terror. Trinity, watching, waiting, feeling the thundering rhythm of her pulse as it quickens. So close to warmth. Just a few seconds away.

So did I, Trinity thinks. “You are... loose end,” she murmurs instead. The way she slits Sofia’s throat is precise. It’s over before the woman can cry out. Sofia’s weight becomes exponentially heavier, as she collapses to the side, with red running deep across her throat and staining the lavish green floors. Trinity ends up yanking out a clump of hair from her scalp as she goes.

She’s still plucking the strands from beneath her fingernails when they re-enter the elevator at the end of the hall, knowing the bodies will be swept away before anyone can so much as bat an eye. No one will wonder where the three on the top floor of Hotel Emelia went; if anyone asks, they’ll be quickly silenced.

Ronan presses the button to take them back to the lobby, tapping his better foot in time with a silent beat. She smiles at him in thanks.

“You’ve got something on your teeth,” he says, brow furrowed.

She grins wider: A quarter of a centimeter, canines bared, swipes at the corner of her mouth with her pinky finger. Lipstick comes away, smeared dark against her skin. The elevator dings. “I know.”

Extras:

Some thoughts:

The Zakarian family has their fingers in every pie imaginable, thanks to the reputation that protects them, but it was Sacha, Trinity’s wife, that had the closest affiliation with mob business in St. Petersburg. Over the fifteen year period of their marriage (they married young, and in-love, when Trinity was only twenty-two), Trinity danced with the best and worst of them: she knows plenty of members in the Russian mob, and considers them to be her closest allies, rather than the Montagues. When Sacha and Alyosha were so tragically killed, it was the Russian mob that paid for the funeral, with the Zakarians throwing some money at the problem to stem suspicion. She’s even somewhat familiar with Boris, even if he’s not from St. Petersburg.

Shortly before Faron’s death, on the fifth of November, she departed from Verona to visit Alyosha’s grave for the anniversary of his death. She didn’t return to Verona until the twenty-second, and missed Faron’s funeral. She still commit to the tradition of wearing dark colors for forty days and forty nights, however, and visits his grave semi-frequently. She’s not even sure why: she had no care for the man, and in the end, believes he faltered in his goals due to avarice and selfishness.

Her first language is Armenian, her second is Russian, her third English, and her fourth is Italian. She’s got a peculiar accent, but for the most part, she’s used to speaking Russian. Adjusting to Italian in Verona has been strange, although she’s not necessarily a woman of few words.

She’s been relatively-hands off when it comes to business dealings in the public eye since the death of her family. Her brother, Artur, has stepped up to the plate to ensure things are running smoothly. She trusts him enough not to make a mess of it, but I’m thinking maybe she sets up camp somehow in Hotel Emelia to ensure it stays in the hands of the Montagues.

I’ve got a playlist, and a pinboard.

#accepted #accepted: tamora

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lavender-hemlock · 5 years ago

Note

the be honest meme. - ALL OF THEM! -From ya know who.

Breathes. I am going to kill you. Everything of the honesty meme is under the cut you absolute fruitcake @kazexvoss .

1. What would prevent you from following someone?

Possibly if that person isnotoriously opinionated and hateful towards any opinion that opposes theirs.That’s about the only preventive thing. Just unbearable and toxic people.

2. Are aesthetics important to you? If they are, why?

Sure, I think aesthetics aregreat outlets to demonstrating outside of screenshots and prompts what yourcharacter is about in an array of colors, art, or examples. It’s beautiful.

3. What current rp trend do you hate? Taken.

4. How do you explain rp to someone in the real world?

Hahah- I don’t, but I would probably compare it to my lovefor literature and writing if I had to. I’m writing stories and adventures.

5. Do you prefer interacting with male muses or female more? Why?

I don’t have a preference!

6. Do you prefer writing male muses or female more? Why?

I write female muses because it is simply easier for me to put myshoes in the shoes of a female muse. For obvious reasons I should hope. However,I have written with a male oc in the past. I want to, just haven’t found theright dynamic yet for ffxiv. I had a male Au Ra by the name of Xathun- but nowhe is simply my retainer that brings me stuff he deems is shiny.

I love himeven if he brings me level 5 rocks.

7. What’s your opinion on call-out posts?

I think they are both useful topoint out harmful individuals who have harmful or greedy intentions – andharmful because some call-out posts I believe are just posts to continue a potstir off the platform itself or off the drama seeping from another dms. Thereis a time and place for all things.

8. Name any three things about the rpc that bother you. Taken.

9. What is your opinion on exclusivity? Do you practice it? Why / why not?

I think exclusivity iscompletely up to those who choose to practice it. I only practice it on whetherI am comfortable. Very few people can make me feel uncomfortable- but my guthas yet to fail me in this. I will not RP with anyone who makes meuncomfortable or if they are just looking for ERP. I’m not about it.

10. Have you everhad a bad experience with commissions? As either someone who makes them or assomeone who buys them?

I have not had a bad experiencewith commissions. I really need to seek out one.

11. What do youknow now about rp that you wish you knew when you first started? Taken.

12. Have you beeninvolved in drama? Do you regret it?

In this community, I have onlybeen involved in one instance. It was during my first few months joining FFXIV,super early on. A RPer tried to guilt trip me for not responding to them forone day. One day caused a lot of drama from someone else’s greed and possessivenature.

I don’t regret it. It just demonstrated another example for me to be wary of everyone’s intentions. Unfortunately. It isthat split-second decision that you want to think the best in everyone that brings the failure. Oops.

13. Have you everthought about leaving rp? What caused it? What changed your mind?

I probably considered leavingRP when I was leaving a forum base that I had invested eleven or so years of mylife into. I had grown so much through it and watched as it died out bit by bitonly for trolls to really remain. None of the inspiration was there and noone truly seemed passionate about anything but bars. Taverns.

I changed my mind when I joinedFFXIV. At first I played the game because it was something to do. I wasbored and things were dying down for me. I have loved the FF series for such along time, so I thought, why not? Screw the pay wall. I just played through AtRealm Reborn and focused that down in a binge. Over time I got the itch Iwanted to write, and that had propelled me right into the RP crew in Siren.Then that branched onto the Tumblr. Creating my blog has led me to meet such wonderful people along the way.

14. Do you think rphas had a positive or negative affect on your life or you as a person?

Positive for sure. RP helped meduring the years I was unsure who I wanted to be, what I wanted to express, andhelped me communicate more when I said so little. I was so much moreintroverted, and the writing RP brought was so uplifting.

The character, Haine, I madeyears ago is a force in my life that influenced my traits as a role model. She’llalways have a special place in my heart.

15. How has rpchanged you personally?

I suppose this builds on thelast question, huh?

Without finding RP as anoutlet, I don’t think I would have been ready to embrace what I could be.Things could have been far worse in my life, and I like to think some of thetraits I had crafted Haine to be throughout the years helped me remain true towho I should be rather than what everyone wanted me to be- or knock me down tobe.

16. If you couldchange one thing about rp on tumblr, what would it be? Why?

I don’t think I want to changeanything- I would just want to encourage others to write and express themselvesmore in their outlets. Which can be writing, drawing, aesthetics. You do you.The passion is my favorite thing to see in others.

17. Have you eversent a message to yourself on anon? Why?

No. Why would anyone do that?

18. Have you eversent hate to yourself on anon? Why?

Why… would anyone do that? Arethey okay?

19. Do you deleteanon hate or post and address it? Why?

I am content to say I havenever received anon hate. Yet.

20. Have you everfelt pressured to write something you weren’t comfortable with?

No. I refuse to put myself inthat position.

21. Have you everfollowed someone because you felt like you had to, not because you wanted to? Taken.

22. What would makeyou block someone?

I try to avoid blocking becauseI believe most things can be recovered- because if I put you on that block list,I am never looking at it. You’re gone. You must be very toxic to get put there-or annoying. There was that one guy…

23. Have you everstolen something from someone else?

Does luck count? Because Iswear I stole someone’s luck once and it was the funniest thing I had everwitnessed.

24. Have you everhad something stolen from you? If so, how did you handle it?

Yes. I’ve had the alias Hainefor over ten years. I carried that name from my old RP community and thisperson that I used to call a good friend disappeared. She came back under a newname, and then I went on a hiatus. I come back, she’s going as the name “Haine.”She pretended she was just an anonymous person and not the friend I always knewbut playing stupid never was her skill.

I was… indifferent at first.Yet, it felt like a part of me was being violated. I knew her. It hurt. I hadmade Haine as this love child of my creativity. I tried to be reasonable butthen this person began to start discourse so it would go. “Did Haine do this?” “Whydid Haine do that?” It was confusing to always say “It was the other one.” Whenoften duplicate alias’ were not typical.

It was upsetting to say theleast, and after a while, as above it as I like to be- I started getting prettyangry. It was never pretty. I can regret a bit of it.

25. Are you open toduplicates? Why / why not?

As in duplicates acrossservers? I do that! I had stared on Siren originally before I made a characteron Balmung before world visit opened up. I think duplicates are helpful in caseyou want to keep your strong attachments in both data centers.

26. How do you feelabout vague posting?

Vague… posting?

27. Do you followpeople even if they don’t follow you back?

Of course! Someone I followdoes not have to follow me back. I love their content and I want to stay tuned!That is the entire point! If they follow back, it is just equally delighting.

28. Do you readpeople’s rules before following or interacting?

If they have rules, yes. Ithink it is very important to have OOC communication to express what you willallow or what you find inappropriate.

29. What is youropinion on “reblog karma” and do you practice it?

I don’t.. understand.

30. How have youresponded to popular slang used on tumblr? Do you use it in every day life? Doyou use it at all?

I don’t follow tumblr trends enough toknow?

31. Is theresomething you don’t know the meaning of but you haven’t asked anyone becauseyou think it’s supposed to be general knowledge? Was there ever something youhad to ask someone to explain?

OH! I think I did this once. Beingnew on Tumblr awhile back, I did not understand a lot of things. So some of theterms was lost on me. I think I remember asking what on earth a “mun” was. Itwas lost on me.

32. Have you everexperienced discrimination?

Yeah.

33. How do you feelabout personal blogs following your rp blog?

The more the merrier! I thinkthat makes it more flattering to see. It makes me think that something on myblog had to be nice for someone to want to keep up on their personal blog.

34. Have you evercried while writing a reply?

Oh go- Yes. Recently. The plot lines that make me feel things are the best kind. Happy, excited, nervous, bittersweet, thrilled. I love it.

35. Do you readother people’s threads or do you only read your own?

I read other people’s threads,and my own. I read mine several times because I figure it can be better. I love reading thewriting of others.

36. What’s onething that other people seem to hate that doesn’t bother you? Taken.

37. How do you feelabout tagging triggers? Do you tag them? How do you determine what istriggering content and what isn’t?

I don’t feel anything for themor tag them.

38. What advicewould you give to someone new to rp?

Embrace what you want to be and do not divert from what youare comfortable with. Feel free to go to public places and watch others work.If I know the person who is new to RP I would usually offer to be their partnerto get them into the cadence.

This exhausted me. I felt things throughout this journey of asks, and through it all I give to you-

#honesty meme #TAPROMPTS #hell

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pinchevaquerx · 7 years ago

Text

Once Upon A Time In The West

disclaimer: this is so heavily hc based it’s unreal. This will all be canon for my Jesse unless you request otherwise during out RP, or if we’re already RPing something different. Also: yes- I am this horribly cliche (you’ll see what I mean). Yes- I did have to make him suffer this much (trust me, some drafts were even worse). And yes- I have spent far too much time thinking about this man. There IS a tl;dr at the end, don’t worry!

if you are at all concerned by the tags, feel free to message me and I can either give you a better heads up on what they’re for or give you a summary with those parts taken out!

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

In the year 2034, before the Omnic Crisis began, the American government replaced social security numbers with social security chips. The idea was a simple one: if people had their personal ID number implanted on a chip at birth, then identification would never be a problem again. No more unnamed bodies, no forging identities with fake cards, no codes or pins or keys needed to unlock high security features. Everything the government needed to know about everyone was in their chip.

Jesse was never given one.

His parents were repeat offenders for drug addiction, and going to the hospital for a delivery while high would have landed them another strike. So Jesse was born at home, never went to the hospital, and thus never received a SSC.

The back roads of Santa Fe were Jesse’s playground. He was allowed to roam, doing as he pleased, so long as he never let adults question him. Naturally, this means he didn’t talk to many people as a small, dirty child who spoke a broken mix of English and Spanish running around on their own worried most adults.

However, there was one woman just a few streets over, one Ms. McCree, who Jesse adored. For meals, instead of returning home where’d have to scavenge for scraps, he knocked on her door and offered whatever treasures he’d found that day in exchange for food. It was Ms. McCree who introduced Jesse to Westerns and encouraged his love of them.

The one thing Jesse did get from his parents were his survival skills. They knew how to sneak and steal, how to bribe or charm others into giving them just enough to get by, and ( most importantly ) how to shoot. Jesse was a natural at aiming, and his love of westerns only pushed him to practice until he was a crack shot.

Alias Jesse James

As rough as things were, they quickly got worse. Jesse’s mother grew sick, deteriorating so quickly that there was no time for her to get treatment. After she passed, Jesse’s father lost what little control he had. His drinking grew to be as bad as his drug addiction. Instead of shooting for a hobby, Jesse began to consider it for self-defense. For a while, it was enough to throw things and hide. If he couldn’t find a good spot outdoors, Ms. McCree’s house was always open to him.

It only took a year before his father borrowed money from the wrong people. The Deadlock Gang had been around since before the Omnic Crisis, but during the war is when they really took off. Now, they had near sole control of the Four Corners and their reach was spreading.

When Jesse was eleven, Deadlock stormed their house. His father was as inebriated as always, so Jesse took matters into his own hands. Recklessly cocky in the way only a child who’d raised himself on too many westerns could be, Jesse grabbed his gun and squared off against the intruders.

Every member was at least ten years older and twice as heavy as the kid. They didn’t take Jesse as a threat, but one member noticed the steady way Jesse held his gun, even if he had poor form. After commenting on this, Jesse’s dad jumped on the opportunity.

With a mix of confusion and anger, Jesse listened as his dad charmed the ringleader. His father had explained his lack of a chip, how he could slip into places without setting off any of their alarms because of it, how no one would suspect a kid if they did see him, how Jess was already skilled at doing this. An agreement was reached, and in the end Jesse had more or less been sold off to Deadlock to repay the debts.

Jesse, having avoided his parents as much as possible growing up, never learned his last name. So when Winchester, the current leader of Deadlock, asked for his name upon arrival, Jesse confidently declared himself “Jesse James”.

The Wild Bunch

Working with Deadlock taught Jesse many things very, very quickly. Despite his usefulness, no one was willing to go out of their way to help him. Jesse had to keep up or get left behind. As good a shot as he’d been before, being placed in situations where he either shot or got shot made him better.

They used him for everything from stealing to carrying messages to smuggling at the start. Once Winchester realized how much more he could do, Jesse suddenly became their ‘secret weapon’. He was sent on jobs as their sharpshooter. Sent to deals as the negotiator. Sent to contacts as the charmer. If Winchester needed it done, Jesse was his man.

The first time he killed a man he was fourteen.

It wasn’t for Deadlock, not really. Jesse had done his best to take people down but not out with his bullets, much to the ire of the gang. It did benefit them in the end, though, which meant Jesse didn’t have to reveal the real reason for his first fatal shot.

During a face off with a rival gang, Jesse found a young kid trying to sneak away in all the chaos. They were younger than he’d been at first, and it infuriated him to see someone else treated that way. To be forced to work for a gang to survive as a kid. Winchester had clearly said to kill anyone they saw, but Jesse refused to even raise his gun at them. Instead, he offered his assistance in getting them out. Just as they were almost in the clear, a member of the other gang showed up. Jesse didn’t even have to think about it before he shot the man square in the forehead.

The kid got away... and Jesse became a killer.

After that, it got easier and easier to kill. Winchester was always pleased with the results and Jesse had so many nightmares there wasn’t any time left in the night for more. It was shortly after that when he first pulled of a perfect Deadeye, killing six targets within a matter of seconds.

Doing this caused him a massive headache, with the symptoms getting worse if he did it too frequently. However, Deadlock’s Deadeye gained an infamous reputation and helped the gang expand their territory even more.

Once other gangs realized their secret weapon was a scrawny kid, Jesse became an easy target. Deadlock didn’t want to lose him, but they weren’t willing to do much to help him out. During a botched job, Jesse ended up in enemy hands. He was with them for almost a week, getting tortured for information he wasn’t supposed to know. It’d have been so easy for him to give it all up, but he had a strong, misplaced sense of loyalty for his gang. Finally, Deadlock came to save him only because they needed Jesse for another job. Winchester made sure he knew, not wanting the kid to think he was more important than he was.

In the end, Jesse was left with several new scars, PTSD he didn’t understand, and severe disillusionment. At sixteen, he finally stopped waiting for the day Deadlock would fully accept him as one of their own. His naive loyalty was shattered, yet he knew he still needed the gang. He no longer worked to gain their favor, instead doing his job in order to survive.

Hang ‘Em High

When Jesse was seventeen years old, Deadlock had finally grown large enough to catch the interest of Blackwatch. They had progressed from their small territory to all over the States and down into Central America. Now they dealt in nearly every area of smuggling: high grade weapons, drugs, tech, information, people... if someone wanted it moved, they’d do it.

Deadlock hadn’t expected the sting, had never assumed someone would dare to attack them on their own turf, and were vastly under prepared. Jesse had been sent out with a few others to hold the attackers back, while the higher ranking members gathered their supplies and tried to run. Both Jesse and Winchester knew the others who’d been sent along were canon fodder, so Jesse didn’t even blink as they were picked off easily.

Jesse, for his part, was prepared to do whatever it took to survive this encounter. It had been his driving force his entire life, and some unknown gang with a goth aesthetic wasn’t about to change that.

The Overwatch symbol one of them wore on his sleeve was enough, though. Changing his aim slightly, Jesse stopped making head shots and made sure the rest of his hits weren’t lethal. Killing other gangs was nothing, they were criminals and all around awful people, just as bad or worse than Jesse himself. Overwatch, though, was full of heroes. Despite being his enemy, Jesse couldn’t bring himself to kill a hero, someone who was out there doing good in the world, saving innocents from people like himself.

Without Jesse’s shooting to keep Blackwatch stalled, Deadlock wasn’t able to get away. Before anyone knew it, most of Deadlock was either dead or captured, with only a few managing to slip away. Jesse had played up his age, played up the innocent look he knew he could fake, and got himself caught instead of killed.

Man Without A Star

Jesse was kept in lock up for roughly 30 hours before being dragged into an interrogation room. The first agent treated him with kid gloves, which irritated Jesse enough that he immediately dropped the act. Only one person had ever been allowed to talk to him like a child, and that was before he’d been forced to grow up.

The first agent walked out in frustration, yelling how Jesse wasn’t a ‘kid in the wrong place at the wrong time’ after all as the door shut behind him. Proud, Jesse promised himself he’d kick the second agent out even faster. This time, the man left after ten minutes with a bloody nose. He’d gone for the bad cop role, getting up close to yell in Jesse’s face, and had gotten headbutted for his efforts.

The third man that walked through the doors didn’t just change the game, he ended it entirely. Gabriel Reyes was both everything and nothing like Jesse had expected. His mere presence demanded a respect that Jesse didn’t know how to give.

Their conversation was quick, to the point, and heavily one-sided. Jesse wasn’t treated like a child or a criminal. Reyes laid out the facts at first, with no hints giving his thoughts away. Ballistics had come back from Jesse’s gun, revealing much more than Jesse knew was possible. He was linked to several impressive shootouts from the past three years, proving he was the Deadeye they’d had their eyes on. The majority of wounds he landed on the Blackwatch agents weren’t fatal, and based on the perfect head shots from before, it was intentional.

There was no doubt that there was enough evidence to send Jesse to a maximum security prison for the rest of his life, regardless of his age. After all that, when Jesse’s head was down, Reyes made his offer: Blackwatch or prison. Neither sounded great, but a gilded cage was better than a maximum security one.

This time, he gave the name “Jesse McCree”.

The Good Old Boys

The first few years were the hardest. Jesse had rarely slept as much as he should and never ate as much as he needed. Thus, he was all skin and bones with only enough muscle to get by. Reyes became his personal trainer, working Jesse harder than he’d ever worked in his life. The military like routine was awful, but the results came quickly.

Not even a year after joining, Jesse hit a growth spurt, his form finally filling out to match his gangly limbs. While he now had three meals a day, the nightmares still plagued him enough that sleep was rare. Once he was allowed on missions, though, they exhausted him enough that he’d pass out the second debrief was done.

Emotionally, things moved much slower.

Jesse had never trusted anyone else before. The closest he got to caring about anyone had been Ms. McCree, and even then had been it based more on survival than companionship. The concept of team mates and watching someone else’s back were foreign to him. At least once a week, Jesse was given a reprimand for fighting with fellow agents.

Seven months after joining, things hadn’t improved. However, that was when Fareeha Amari came to stay with her mother. She hadn’t heard anything about Jesse before seeing him, but immediately grew attached as he was the only person even close to her age. The twelve year old girl managed to do what no else had, and gained Jesse’s trust and friendship.

Thanks for her efforts, it wasn’t long before Jesse’s trust extended to the entire Strike Team. None of them became as important to him as Ana or Gabe, though. Once he opened up to them, Jesse trailed after the pair like a puppy. While Ana became his greatest mentor, Gabe eventually grew to be more like a father figure.

At first, he hated everyone who wore the blue of Overwatch, but especially Jack Morrison. On the surface, he was the perfect poster boy, a shining example of the law. He seemed to be an amalgamation of everything Jesse hated about authority. It was only after he grew to trust Gabe and Ana, who in turn trusted Jack, that he began to change his mind. They got off to a rough start, with him often seeing just how far he could push before he got in trouble. But, eventually, Jack became another person Jesse considered family.

True Grit

By the time Jesse was twenty-six, he had improved enough to be one of Blackwatch’s best agents. It was around then that Talon grew more powerful, and soon began to directly attack Overwatch. On a mission to take them out, the Second-in-Command was killed while saving his team. Following the loss, Gabe promoted Jesse to take his place, stating he had been next in line for a while and this was just a bit sooner than planned.

When Genji Shimada joined their ranks, a part of Jesse assumed he’d be able to reach past his walls like Fareeha had done for him before. As a result, Genji ended up shoehorned into being Jesse’s partner, as it turned out they worked perfectly together. While Genji never grew past his hate during his time in Blackwatch, Jesse still formed a deep attachment to the man. In his mind, he’d care enough about their friendship for the both of them, and that’d be fine.

Good things never last forever, and while Blackwatch wasn’t exactly good, they sure weren’t as bad as Talon. But somehow, despite their best efforts, Talon managed to infiltrate Blackwatch right under their noses. Important files went missing, agents disappeared, missions went wrong.

Things really came to a head the last three years of Overwatch’s existence. Blackwatch was exposed, putting them on an indefinite hiatus, which let Talon take the lead in their struggle. Amelié Lacroix was kidnapped and Gerard was murdered in his own bed. Everything was falling apart, to the point Jesse wasn’t sure who he could trust anymore.

The final straw was Ana’s death. Jesse only lasted another three weeks after the mission before he realized he couldn’t take it anymore. Fareeha had left for the military, Genji had left for peace, Angela was working at Oasis most of the time, and Gabe was just as distrustful as Jesse himself. The only person he had left had been Ana.

So, with his mind made up, Jesse left an informal resignation letter (that was closer to an apology) on Gabe’s desk before sneaking out one day. Jesse was thirty years old, not formally recognized as a person as Blackwatch had never created a birth certificate for him, and had no plans.

Three months later, Watchpoint: Zürich blew up, killing the rest of the closest thing he’d ever had to a family.

Lonely Are The Brave

Falling back on the survival instincts that got him through his early childhood, Jesse traveled the world as an outlaw. No one could trace who placed the first bounty on his head, but his gut told him Talon managed it somehow. After that, the price kept racking up.

There were some things he fully deserved the blame for: some robberies, breaking and entering chargers, a few bar fights, a couple assassination jobs... nothing that would amount to $60,000,000 however. Most of the time he was used as a scape goat. Governments couldn’t pin crimes on an organization they didn’t know was there, after all.

Jesse spent most of his time investigating Talon. He did research, exchanged favors, raided bases, and questioned agents. Everything he’d learned in Blackwatch was put to use, though it was much slower without a team to provide support. However, following Talon around meant he was usually in the wrong place at the wrong time, making him an easy target for the law.

Just after the news of the explosion reached him was the worst. In order to cope with the loss, he drank himself into a stupor, loosing several weeks to a blackout binge. For the next month he was in and out of lucidity, staying mostly sober just long enough to get to a new town before drinking some more. Without meaning to, he made his way back to his roots in New Mexico.

It was there that Jesse stumbled across the ruins of Deadlock, working to rebuild themselves to their former glory. Not caring if he made it to the next day or not, Jesse charged in with gun blazing. It’s no surprise that he was overpowered and caught.

After several days of torture, Jesse was visited by none other than Winchester himself. Since the Blackwatch sting he’d been working to rebuild his gang, refusing to go down without more of a fight. After seeing Jesse on the news when Blackwatch was exposed, he realized their Deadeye had turned traitor.

Traitors, he said, didn’t deserve to wear the mark of those they betrayed.

Deep in Deadlock Gorge, where no one could hear his screams, Winchester used a power saw to remove the arm with the Deadlock tattoo that Jesse had gotten as a teenager. After, they dumped him out in the gorge, leaving him to his fate and assuming he’d never make it.

But Jesse, at his core, is a survivor. He managed to get himself to one of his old Blackwatch contacts, a back alley doctor in New Mexico, who patched him up enough that he’d live. After that, he cashed in a few favors down in Dorado to get a prosthetic arm. It wasn’t the sleekest, but it did what he needed it to. And for a bit of petty payback, he had a skull grafted on the forearm.

High Noon

Six years of being on the run had pulled Jesse back into his shell. The few people he would still consider trusting were lost to the wind, none of them having been contacted since before he left Blackwatch. He had contacts, those who owed him favors, and those who paid him for jobs, but no allies. No friends.

However, despite himself, Jesse missed his found family. So he kept the old Blackwatch communicator, though he never expected to use it.

The drinking problem he’d gotten rid of in Blackwatch had come back with a vengeance. Jesse wandered the world mostly aimless, wanting to take out Talon while also not caring if they took him out first. He was only alive due to a mix of stubborn pride and sheer dumb luck. It was only in the heat of the a showdown that he’d decide someone wasn’t worthy to take him out, that they needed to be put in their place. His will to live was weak, but his willingness to give up was entirely nonexistent.

Then he received Winston’s Recall notice. The video was inspiring on it’s own, but the sight of an old friend meant more to him. Because it had been Winston, instead of some nobody agent he didn’t know, Jesse actually considered responding. He spent three days thinking about it before making up his mind.

Talon had infiltrated Overwatch once, and while he wanted to trust Winston, trust anyone else who responded to the Recall, he wouldn’t allow himself to be a part of that again. His job was to stop Talon, and no matter how long it took on his own, he was determined to do it. If, after he’d dealt with the terrorists, Overwatch was still around, he’d reconsider.

But... if they both had the same goal of stopping Talon, well. He wouldn’t hate it if they happened to run into each other while chasing down the same bad guy.

TL;DR

Jesse grew up in Santa Fe with drug addicted, neglectful parents. His mother died when he was young, driving his father to alcoholism and abuse. After borrowing money from the Deadlock Gang, and being unable to pay it back, his father sold Jesse to Deadlock at age eleven. At fourteen he made his first kill in order to save another kid trying to escape from a rival gang. Blackwatch took down Deadlock when he was seventeen, and his skill interested Reyes enough to offer him a job. Blackwatch whipped him into shape and also managed to help him open up emotionally... at least until Talon managed to infiltrate and tear Overwatch down from the inside. When he was twenty-six he was promoted to Second-in-Command of Blackwatch. Ana’s death was the final straw that made him leave at age thirty. Shortly after that, Deadlock caught him and cut off his arm, causing him to get a prosthetic. Jesse refused to answer the Recall notice, but is going to continue fighting Talon on his own.

#tw drugs #tw addiction #tw alcohol #tw child abandonment #tw selling a child #tw child abuse #tw death #tw emotional manipulation #tw torture #tw loss of limb #tw ptsd #oh gosh there's so much #please let me know if i missed anything #there's nothing explicitly graphic #just stating facts of 'this happened'#⟴ headcanon ⟞

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kitaryu · 7 years ago

Text

an open letter @osavior

firstly, i want to make it very clear that my intention in this post is not to attack daisy, also known as the popular mercy blog osavior (previously valkiriya, and serenidae before that), but rather to spread the truth. the intention of this post isn’t to hurt her, but to increase the awareness of people who have no idea what she’s done and decide for themselves what to do from there. all urls, names, discord tags, and aliases shown here are done so with permission - those that requested anonymity were blocked out. colors remain consistent with people throughout all screencaps, so as not to confuse anyone. in this post ill be discussing how daisy has directly catfished mun photos, lied about being a med student, potentially lied about her age, potentially lied about having cancer, manipulated several people and tried to turn multiple unaffiliated people against each other.

before i get into the details, i want to establish that i considered myself very close friends with daisy some time ago (here is proof, if you need it. there are posts upon posts upon posts of interaction both ic and ooc between us in which we both make our affiliation with each other very clear). therefore, none of this is shown out of any sort of petty jealousy towards her, but rather as a way to open peoples’ eyes. whether you choose to continue interacting with her or not is up to you, but please at least keep this post in mind. with that being said, let’s continue:

catfishing

beginning with the most concrete claim, multiple people have said that daisy has posted fake images of herself. in fact, she took it from specific sources, which i will provide in a moment. while i couldnt find any posts of her putting up her “mun pictures” (i believe she deleted them after people mentioned it), many who there at the time can confirm that she did post pictures. for those of you that remember, here is @beijide (andy) finding the source she took her pictures from:

andy isn’t the only person who saw them, however. multiple people mentioned it:

we’ll come back to the last screenshot later, but here are four people specifically who remember her using the photos from this instagram and this pinterest, run by the same person. you can ask any of the three of us who have opted out of anonymity if you want to confirm that she posted those photos, or anyone else who remembers it. “but, wait,” you might say. “what if daisy really is the person who runs this blog?”

at first, it’s easy to say that she is. after all, her area of living, according to her old skype account, is the same as this woman’s. however, the owner of mod med blog’s real name is mary ella wood, very publicly announced. it’s no secret. daisy’s real name, however, is leonie - a name she used to go by, back when i first met her in october of 2016 (she gave herself an alias after a little while and then changed it multiple times afterward). what’s more, daisy claims to be a medical student. what kind of medical student has enough time to run a popular instagram, pinterest, and on top of that, a very powerful roleplay blog for tumblr? i think i’ve made my case for this part.

lying about education and potentially age

well, just because she lied about her photos doesn’t mean she lied about being a medical student - but there is evidence to support this, as well.

a year ago, when i spoke to daisy on a daily basis, she said that she was six years into med school:

only a little while before this, she claimed to be graduating in about a year:

please note the date on this screencap. october 20, 2016, she says she has about a year left. at the time of posting this, it is november 10, 2017, and her rules, which have only recently been updated (as she just remade her blog within the past few days) claim that she is still a full-time college student:

the text on this is very small, but it says: “gonna make this short and simple.

i’m a full time college student. i will not always be active !”

she also claims to be 20 years old at the time, so 21 now:

however, if daisy was in med school for 6 years as of the time she sent these messages, that means that she started med school when she was fourteen years old...which is literally impossible. so, how old is she?

honestly speaking, i don’t know how old she is. however, she has given some unintentional hints.

in the last screencap, daisy is talking about her mom asking when she’ll get married. so, we know that her older half sister is 20, so she can’t be any older than that, which proves that she can’t possibly be a med student in her 6th year of college.

but just because she isn’t in her 6th year doesn’t mean she’s not a med student at all. however, her work ethic doesn’t at all match what is required out of a med student:

but, wait, that doesn’t sound right. typically, med students are known for being hard workers - and there’s a reason for that.

remember where she said that her gpa and grades were terrible? yeah. i dont have any way to specifically disprove her being a med student (though she can’t be in her sixth year) but at this point, it’s very doubtful.

manipulation and hypocrisy

now that i’ve proven the basics about her, let’s move on. there is so much to talk about here, and honestly speaking, this section and the last are the main points of the whole post - because the body count of daisy’s grasp is terribly large, to the point where i have counted 9 personal victims, including myself, and that’s just who i know about.

so, let’s begin with her direct manipulation:

she was talking about playing heroes of the storm here, because oni genji had just been released, back when he was a promotional event exclusive. this is pretty direct, honestly, because it’s so passive aggressive it hurts - but i had just gotten home from a marching band competition. i was really tired.

don’t get me wrong, wanting attention and nice comments once in a while is fine. there’s nothing wrong with that. but getting upset because you specifically asked for compliments? baiting me to send you compliments? what’s even worse is that multiple people sent things, and were often ignored:

i would send things, too. i sent a lot of nice things, and she would ignore them and then say that no one sent anything.

i poured so much love into my relationship with daisy. i absolutely adored her, and i told her that all the time, over skype, over asks, anon and not. i wrote with her every day, i spoke to her every day, i talked about headcanons and life stuff and shared my joy and pain with her, because i loved daisy. she was one of my best friends for a long time, and as much as i would like to say that maybe, she was just venting to me, she made her feelings very personal. so...

...how in the world did she get this idea? why did she think it was okay to make this personal? it definitely seems like she was trying to get me to talk to her more, or maybe even to only talk to her. i dont know.

she had been baiting me to ask what was wrong for about five minutes if i remember correctly, and then in an effort to respect her privacy, i let her be, and offered my support in case she needed it, where she instantly took the opportunity to complain about how little i spoke to her despite the fact that i spoke to her on a daily basis. whats more, a large portion of my inactivity when it came to speaking to people was that i was constantly exhausted because of marching band, and also because i had so little time outside of it.

i’ll address it more in the next section, but this mercy (we’ll call them red) was constantly under daisy’s scrutiny. on top of that, she was very subtly hinting two things - the first being that i shouldnt even so much as think about complimenting another mercy, and the second being that i should give her compliments, instead.

why is she trying to act like i’m some sort of popular jock here? daisy has always been a more popular blog than me. and that never really bothered me, because i liked her, at the time, but i still have no idea what sorts of “things i was included into,” because there really wasn’t...anything. i’d play overwatch a lot with my friends, but that was genuinely about it, and was more due to the fact that i played the game every day, with or without people to play with me.

as for the shipping, i never even had that many ships. i had one with her, one with bibi, one with michael, and before she deleted her widow, one with tay...and thats really it. she shipped a lot more often than i did, but she would drop her ships and blame it on the other person (which i’ll get to here soon). daisy has been through tons of ships and i spoke to a good amount of people she used to ship with when gathering information for this post. they were the ones abandoned.

not only does this imply that she’s a perfect angel who is wronged for no reason, but it also shoves the idea that you dont have the right to unfollow people for whatever you wish. you are under no obligation to keep following people. even if there is no reason at all to unfollow someone, that is your choice. you do not have to follow anyone you dont want to follow.

this was honestly one of the most direct and passive aggressive things she ever sent to me. i was tired, i had just woken up from about an hour (i think) accidental nap after a stressful day of marching band (which was always very tiring), i was very groggy, and she had the gall to say this right to my face.

its still so strange to me. i remember being confused when she said this, but i didnt say anything...but i have never heard anyone say anything like this. more often, youre asked how you cant like children, or told its different when theyre your own, or told that you will learn to like them and change your mind.

this is still confusing considering the fact that daisy has been arguably the most popular blog in the fandom for a very long time. tons of people liked her, and i know i, at least, absolutely adored her. plus, no one, from my knowledge, has ever called her crazy. no one has called her deranged.

probably the most ironic thing she ever said to me? this. because, i dont know how many of you are aware of this, but daisy dropped me. she quite directly replaced me for another genji blog because i “wasnt active” even though i actually was on this blog, slowly coming back to it with some lowered amounts of replies because i was a week from graduating high school and my focus was more on that than on doing my drafts. and she didn’t just do this to me - she did it to multiple people, as i’ll touch on later in this post. here is what it looked like when daisy dropped me:

considering daisy was always going on about how she didnt want people to replace her, this is pretty obviously hypocritical.

she was talking about people who had dropped me as mains before, here. she says here that i was the longest friend she had and her favorite and her number one (while dropping me? lmao) but after this conversation, she talked to me exactly once, one message, and she never spoke to me again. she never tried. she deleted me off of skype (i never deleted her, so while i cant message her on skype, i still have access to everything we said over it) and we unfollowed each other on tumblr after some time and we never spoke again.

this is the one and only time ill say this publicly: daisy was the reason i went on an indefinite hiatus. i was tired of being dropped (it was the third time i had been dropped so that someone could main another genji, or at least it seemed that way at the time) and it hurt me a lot. i was tired of it. i was tired of getting replaced over and over again.

daisy was talking about how she didnt ever have a real relationship (romantically) and when i tried to explain to her that romance is glorified and she shouldnt value herself based on that, she turned my words completely around. my mom used to do this all the time when i lived with her. it is extremely manipulative.

the funny thing about her trying to convince me to send her stuff here is that i basically liked every one of her starter calls. i would send her almost every meme. i would give her anons and talk to her all the time. she would constantly get things from other people and ignore them:

and then she would complain about people not sending things.

she only apologized for things she said to me when looking for attention for it, or at least it seemed that way. she would purposely say shes not okay vaguely so that i would ask her what was wrong and comfort her, which is the same problem im currently having with someone else - but that’s a different situation.

daisy used her illness as an excuse all the time. she would blame anything toxic or manipulative that she was called out for on her bpd, and the only time she apologized for anything, it was extremely self-deprecating - she clearly wanted me to pity her, despite the fact that she had just fucked me over.

and then there’s this. daisy spoke about this a lot - basically, any d.va ship was considered borderline pedophilia to her. she wanted people to tag their ships with large age gaps, but really, considering she was okay with around a 20-30 year age gap between mercy and soldier but not with a 7 year age gap between d.va and lucio, it was less about age gaps and more about d.va specifically. in fact, she specifically mentioned in her rules that she wanted any and all d.va ships tagged, but didnt specify anything else at all. and considering she claims to be only a year older than d.va? considering daisy was talking to an eighteen-year-old? d.va is a fully matured adult, whether she still occasionally acts immaturely or not. ffs she is in the south korean military. she has a career, and one that requires a lot of mental preparation, at that.

before her mental illness is used as a shield for her, however, whether by her or anyone else, please read this post and this post.

potentially lying about cancer

daisy never spoke often about this, so i’m not entirely certain, but there are definitely things that dont add up here. remember the mention of skin cancer earlier?

well, i always felt it too personal to ask her more about cancer, but out of everything she told me of her own volition, daisy did tell me a few things that didn’t quite make sense.

she is pretty clearly saying that she’s had chemotherapy here. she says she had cancer.

i dont know about most people, but when i had a benign tumor in my brain and needed neurosurgery to remove it (a pituitary adenoma, for those of you who know what that is. my case was apparently extremely rare because it was a tumor inside of a cystic mass, but it was necrotic and not cancerous), i was not okay with tumor jokes. it took a year and a half, maybe two years, for my parents to stop joking about it, and i wasn’t okay with them making humor out of something like that. but, what really doesn’t make sense is this:

she says here, november 23, 2016, that she has only been in remission a month.

but she says here, 5 days earlier, that she is donating blood (and has donated multiple times before), that she is healthy.

i dont know what the specific requirements are, but i know that despite me being physically healthy now (at least as far as illnesses and whatnot are concerned), i was never allowed to donate blood (or plasma) because i took hormone regulation pills as a result of my tumor. if blood drives wont accept someone who takes a hormone regulation pill to stabilize their prolactin levels, why would they accept blood from someone who literally had chemotherapy? someone who supposedly had skin cancer?

im not the only one, either, though. one of the people she claimed replaced her (again, other way around) found out that she was faking cancer, too, and their friend apparently had evidence, though they didnt think people would believe them - which is understandable, considering daisy is an extremely influential figure in the overwatch rp community.

turning people against each other

here is quite possibly the part most directly affecting people. on multiple occasions, daisy would turn people who were completely unaffiliated against each other. people who had never met, or at least never spoke much.

i was talking to @beijide about the upper screenshot, because when daisy dropped andy for another widowmaker, she vague posted about andy (who, mind you, has a hard time speaking with people personally, though they found it understandably easier to jump into a group conversation) the whole time. andy summed up their situation pretty well when i showed them what daisy said to me - though it’s only a guess, and she may not have been talking to me about andy specifically.

and then, later:

she pretty clearly says here that this person (ill call them orange, for the sake of this post) replaced her. i didn’t know orange at all, but with this, daisy convinced me to avoid them. i was under the impression for a year that orange dropped daisy - but in reality, when i spoke to them, they explained the truth:

daisy ostracized people from the entire fandom on multiple occasions - not just once or twice, but all the time, because she found someone better or because they werent active or just because they played the wrong character.

at first, i wasnt going to say anything about this situation. i wasnt going to talk to anyone about what she did to me, even though it hurt, because i thought that the only thing she did was replace me - just a problem to do with me, nothing to hurt other people. i didnt realize just how detailed everything she did was.

and i’m not the first to make a post, either. red (remember when i mentioned them earlier?) tried to make a callout for her before over the same things and was written off as a jealous mercy who faked evidence to make daisy look bad:

this was after daisy had already turned me against red early in our friendship by convincing me that red had stolen headcanons from her:

i’ll come back to this last bit shortly.

she convinced me that red was stealing her headcanons - even though these headcanons are fairly common for mercy players, since she has a certain air about her. i tried to find red to ask them about the truth of the situation, but was unable to find their blog. from my knowledge, they have since left the overwatch community.

later, she sent messages which very intentionally ostracized red:

and then, regarding the callout red made:

but red is hardly the only person who got turned against as a result of her. she also turned against @climxtologist, who was originally her friend, when talking about red:

when i spoke to nicole, however, she told me the truth of what happened.

even if it had only been orange, red, and nicole who had been ostracized by daisy, it would be far too many - but unfortunately, her body count doesn’t end there.

i don’t know specifically who she was talking about here, because there were many stories she told that sounded like that, but i had an idea when i was speaking to orange. i started speaking to nikki about everything daisy did, and though he wasnt directly victimized by her, he felt the affects of having friends who were, as well as being a mercy when daisy made sure that other mercy players would never get so much attention:

daisy, despite saying that she wouldnt keep people from rping or interacting with other mercy players, subtly kept them from ever talking to them. in fact, i was talking about it on discord, too:

i didnt want to upset daisy by talking to other mercy players, and i know that i wasnt the only one who felt this way. she was extremely possessive of her mains:

yet, although she would get upset when anyone else talked to another mercy, she spoke or interacted with other versions of someones muse all the time. so why was she allowed to talk to other genji players when i couldnt talk to other mercys?

she even got extremely nasty about people who i used to main who i had thought dropped me (the circumstances were a bit different when i actually got around to talking to them about it, so my disposition here is pretty gross as well, admittedly, and i dont have any excuses for it):

she was extremely rude about red, who she had never actually held a conversation with. she directly called red a trashbag, called all of their friends trashbags, and claimed no one liked them or their blog, as well as calling it irrelevant. that’s nasty.

but possibly the worst is when she tried to turn me against one of my mains, and closest friends:

i really should have stood up for bibi here, but i was too scared to upset daisy about it. when i spoke to bibi about it, they said this:

yes, she said that void was in the wrong for what they did - but she also spoke about them like what they said to bibi wasnt that bad. and that isn’t okay.

conclusion

daisy pretty explicitly manipulated and lied about a lot of things, including things that would actively harm other people. i am not telling anyone to stop interacting with daisy, but i want people to be aware of everything shes done, because she is actively harming other people, and if anyone decides to break off contact and interaction with me about this, i understand completely. please do not attack or send hate to daisy, as that is not the intention of this post. it is not created for retribution. it is not made for revenge. it was made to protect people and give them the knowledge to make their own decisions.

also this was really funny to me:

#osavior #callout #drama #[ ooc. ] ⁽ ᵒᶰˡʸ ᵃ ᶰᶤᵏᶤᵗᵃ ᶜᵃᶰ ᶜᵒᶰᵗʳᵒˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵃᵍᵒᶰˢˑ ⁾

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progeny-of-the-fury · 7 years ago

Photo

The Return of Hestia De’bayle

Log date: 2/28/18

OOC Note: The text in these logs are strictly for the reader’s enjoyment. Anyone using the knowledge displayed within this text without the participant’s knowledge risks the potential of blacklisting from future communication and roleplay. Please do not meta-game!

Tags: @pain-and-pistolet

Things had reached a tense point. Even after the Blitzball rally, I did little more than disappoint Killian with my cowardice. I had made myself untrustworthy, how could I face him again. I needed to know… if being me was okay. If… returning to that… was the right choice…

Adelise De'bayle clicks open the door to the workshop slowly, peeking her head inside with a narrow of her eyes. The item of question that Astrelle had told Adelise of yesterday was already long gone, yet the girl still made her way inside once spotting the Elezen. “Astrelle?”

The sound of hammering steel rang out in the cavernous walls of the workshop. Noises from each corner hummed; mechanical whirrs breathing life into the large and spacious area. Astrelle would be found at her usual post, the sound of clinking metals and idle tinkering audible even through the din of machines and holograms. Wiping a bead of sweat from her brow, the woman would pause at the sound of her name cutting through, turning over her shoulder. “Adelise. Hello.” She placed a small hammer upon the desk, rounding to lean her rear against the edge of the long counter. “Problems with the typewriter?” she asked, guessing at the younger woman’s presence.

Adelise De'bayle: “I would not know. I had it sent to his apartment. He left back home without me last night,” she noted blandly, shrugging a shoulder as her wyvern sat there dutifully, for what felt like forever since he was last seen. “I had not… anticipated coming back here so soon. I still have my trials to finish back in Dravania, but… I am left torn on an issue, and needed some guidance.”

Astrelle De'bayle screwed her mouth at the news. Reaching into her pouch, she withdrew a small remote with a single red button which she clicked - the humming of the workshop quieted some in response, a gentle hiss escaping out from a far corner as blue smoke rose into the air slowly. “How can I help?” the elder woman asked, her tone carrying evenly and with genuine curiosity and concern. She stepped forward and pushed her goggles up onto her forehead, a faint imprint of their frame around each of her eyes.

Adelise De'bayle: “I know there are probably worse things to be concerned about as of late, with raised tensions throughout the House… your brothers return home,” she gestures out a hand. “Along with such… perhaps even as a direct correlation, Killian and I have been arguing with one another almost non-stop. And most issues… are my fault,” she inhales some, “I am a coward and a liar, and I am not sure how to fix it. He wishes for me to be Hestia,” she admits out, “but… I am unsure if that is the right choice. Or if I even have a right to do something so selfish to the people who did so much to help me. I do not want to jeopardize anyone with such a hasty decision, but… I figured that rather than continue to hurt him by insisting I will try to be Hestia and failing time and time again, I would ask you all. My… family. If it is okay for me to be… Hestia.”

Astrelle De'bayle listened politely to her niece’s concerns. With each new word, her serious expression softened a touch until finally her brows would furrow in a bemused acceptance. After Adelise finishes speaking, Astrelle holds her gaze level with the girl before slowly canting her head. “…who have you been all this time?”

Adelise De'bayle laughs sadly, shaking her head, “it silly… is it not? To even worry about such a thing. It is just a name…” she pressed her lips together, her brows furrowing in upset. “No… it became more than just a name when I returned and was treated like a stranger on more than one account. Told I was one. Suddenly, I knew I was no longer the ‘Hestia’ people loved. I was just, Adelise. A completely different person. I never had such a… identity crisis, but… Killian describes it as a mask. That Adelise is a mask I put on, and… that when I am ‘Hestia’ things are different… I do not know. I suppose the answer is, I do not know who I am. I feel like I am tugging between two people are just… me? It seems ridiculous.”

Astrelle De'bayle notes the wyvern—finally—and looks it over with idle curiosity. She elects to leave the topic alone for the time being. Instead, she gingerly begins to pull her gloves from her hand, one finger at a time. “And who do you think you are, my dear niece?”

Adelise De'bayle: “I only ever wanted to be Hestia,” she notes in a sad tone. “But my final orders from Hitokiri, was that Adelise was to remain my name… that my mother requested I go by an alias, as me being this way. As old as I am, would confuse people. People would ask questions that I had no right to answer,” she squeezed her hands tightly, “but I wanted to be Hestia. I never wanted any of this to happen, and now all this pain that has been following me as of late, has seeped into my current relationship.”

Adelise De'bayle: “I should have let Hestia die there… but instead I wanted so badly to keep that name alive. To be that. I wanted to be Hestia, even if I would not admit it then. And so I told those closest to me that they could call me that in private. Now, Killian wishes to marry me as Hestia because he knows that to be what I consider my realest self. But if I do that. If I allow how to do that… what will happen then? I cannot hurt my mother and father like that…”

Astrelle De'bayle watches the girl with a sympathetic expression, continuing to listen to her rambling. The sound of her boots meeting the metal grate beneath her as she steps forward announces her approach, a rough palm lifting—after warily watching to see if the wyvern would attack—to press against Adelise’s cheek if allowed. “It should never be their choice for who you are, lest you die cursing your own name.”

Adelise De'bayle winced some as Astrelle raised a hand to her face, the wyvern perched on her shoulder offering Astrelle a sharp gaze but otherwise doing little else but exhaling a sharply though his nostrils. “I just… Serick told me all my life, about the family waiting for me when I got back. And while Hitokiri became a father to me where my father could not be in all that time… and leaving him was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do… but I wanted to be here with my family again. To show them how far I had come… but they do not love Adelise. I do not want just to be a mask to them. I want to be Hestia… but what is the cost of that? How many people know and would ask… Killian says it is not their right to know. I wanted to know what you thought.”

Astrelle De'bayle dropped her hand back down to her side, keeping an eye on the wyvern with a slight hum of disapproval. “It is not, should you not wish for it to be,” she answered casually with a raise of a single shoulder. The engineer turned with a sigh, glancing towards her unfinished work as she mulled over the words of the younger De'bayle. “You are as much apart of this family as any other De'bayle—name or not.” She turned a cryptic look to the half-Hyur, eyes narrowed somewhat before she offered a pre-emptive smile. “I recall meeting you upon mine return to the family. You were small—far smaller than now. The way you spoke to me; with which you said the word 'aunt’,” the Elezen sighed, “left me a mess, in truth. I do not know if you recall, but I slept in your room with you that eve - to see the future of mine family—of the De'bayle name…” She trailed off, looking far older than she actually was now; wrinkles faintly etching around the lines of her eyes, mingling with the soot and grease that dotted her cheeks and chin. “You are oft a foolish girl, Hestia, and far too reliant on your pride to carry you through things. Yet I have never wished to treat you as anything less than family. If you wish to be Hestia, then be Hestia—the consequences will be dealt with as they arise.”

Adelise De'bayle tightens her hands some, lowering her head. “I know I am a fool. I am a fool with an ambition larger than I am capable of, but I feel that… I have a responsibility to do something with this life I was granted. For the time I… wasted on those who cared for me,” she shook her head, mumbling to herself. “I do not want to live in uncertainty anymore. I want to live! And I want to live for myself! And for my family, and my future family. To see my brother grow up knowing me as his sister and not as his cousin…” she inhales deeply. “And I want to be at my father and mothers side. And to do anything I can to see not just our people prosper, but anyone I can reach. I know I am just… in the eyes of most, some delusional girl. But those ambitions have to start somewhere… no matter how impossible they must appear,” she laughs bitterly.

Astrelle De'bayle gave Adelise a soft smile; tired but genuine. “The only responsibility you owe is to yourself—you have never owed us anything.” Her smile grew some at Adelise’s continued words and she gave a soft laugh, not bothering to hide it as she spoke out, “I feel as if you may have already made your choice, my dear girl.” The Lady fixed her niece with a kind, uncharacteristic smile—something had her in a good mood lately. “Know that I am always willing to support your decisions, so long as they are not detrimental to the family as a whole.”

Adelise De'bayle looked up at Astrelle expression, her lips peeling into a small smile themselves. “That… means more to me than anything. Especially from you… my aunt. I am sure as of late with the things you have heard… I have done much to disappoint everyone,” she straightened. “I let the fury of someone who hurt me and the people around call me a stranger to him because I was no longer Hestia get the better of me. His words. I will no longer allow that to be the cause of any of my rage.”

Adelise De'bayle: “If people cannot accept that same girl from all those turns ago, then they are no friend or family of mine,” she huffs, blinking some at her, “ah… thank you… for listening to me. You seem to be in a good mood. I hope this does not do anything to damper that…” she murmurs, tugging at some of her long hair that draped over her shoulder.

Astrelle De'bayle waved a hand airily to dismiss the younger woman’s concern. “While it may behoove everyone to straighten out their priorities a touch—I shan’t lie and say that I agree with Guillemont properly, either—I am glad that… progress is being made. Fret not for your effect on mine mood - were it anything to have concern over, I would have started locking my door many moons ago.” Her nose wrinkled at the teasing jest. “Until then, do you still wish to be known as Adelise? I wouldn’t wish to say anything before you are ready.”

Adelise De'bayle takes a deep breath, before exhaling it out slowly. “I know this seems positively dramatic, the way I am acting… but I just. I have been told my whole life to be anything but… Hestia,” she nods her head a few short moments. “I wish to be Hestia, from now on.”

Astrelle De'bayle flashes her niece an almost motherly smile, dipping her head in deferrence. “You always have been,” she said softly.

Adelise De'bayle flashes an emotional expression at this, as though the thought never really dawned on her. Swallowing hard she managed a weak smile. “It will be a bit hard to get used to that… but I think Killian is right. I think in the end, it will be for the better. I just need to try and see that,” she mumbles, “in regards to that situation with Guillemont. Ar-” she stops clearing her throat, “my father, and Denz. They came and spoke to me out in Dravania. Killian and I. That is what spurred this all I suppose. I felt… they really cared about what happened. I do not know why I just assumed they would only care about what Guillemont had to say and what happened. I just accepted that fate. But… they came and spoke to me, and I felt truly like apart of the family again. And I realized… I wanted to be the person who was born into this family.”

Astrelle De'bayle ’s soft expression turned into a far more neutral one, a half smile still gracing her features. “Oh! Well, glad am I to hear that Armont is doing something. I hope he hasn’t noticed the dwindling supply of his wine.” Her words came as an attempt to lighten Hestia’s mood, if only just. “In truth, I wished to speak with Guillemont first before I saw to you, but I have not been able to—it seems I have been beaten in both regards, then.” The woman teeters her head upon her shoulders in mock consideration. Her neutral expression slowly fell back into a soft one soon enough however, not wishing to draw Hestia back into the pointed young woman she had presented herself as. “I am glad they spoke with you, though. Truly.”

Adelise De'bayle shrugged slightly. “I understand. He is your twin brother. You will have to forgive me, but I fear this situation has left little for us in regards to a growing relationship. I would hardly like to go into that now, as I think we are bother better off currently, but… I would simply rather avoid the man if I can. Or at least conversation with him. His actions in the face of my frustration over what his actions caused, be them directly or indirectly, leave me little to believe he feels remorse over what happened. No matter what was said behind closed doors. I think it would simply be best that way,” she raises a hand to brush her hand over her head, turning to peer over toward her wyvern.

Astrelle De'bayle raises a hand to deflect her words. “Hardly a solution, but I will respect it for the time. I must needs speak with him and reprimand him for such foolhardiness. Despite the … words exchanged, the actions are far more poignant in memory.” She exhales through flared nostrils, “So soon after we sacrificed so much to bring him back, no less.” Astrelle stood motionless, lower lip sucking into her mouth in deep thought. It took a moment for her to shake out of it, remembering Hestia’s presence. “I digress. Let us speak naught of the matter. Mayhaps you can share your news with Killian?”

Adelise De'bayle: “I am sure this will help our situation. Things have been so tense between us, and as I have said… they have mostly been my fault,” she grumbles. “Ah… I have seen you eyeing him some. Have you met Nogelle?” She asks, gesturing toward the fiend on her shoulder.

Astrelle De'bayle ’s eyes flit over to the wyvern. “Repeatedly,” she replies flatly. “Though it’s been some time since last I spied him perching upon your shoulder. I had thought him ill or lost.”

Adelise De'bayle: “Ah, he was dead,” she says simply, as though that were a normal thing. “He is fine now though.”

Astrelle De'bayle blinks dumbly. Her gaze snaps back to Hestia with confusion etched over her brow, the fluttering of her lashes betraying the not-so-mild-befuddlement happening in her mind. “…pardon?”

Adelise De'bayle: “He was gone… I had uhm…” she gestures up her hands, as though trying to find the words, “in a moment of weakness, bashed his skull in. But he has sense fully recovered.”

Astrelle De'bayle stares blankly at the woman, still trying to process precisely what she was saying. Unable to grasp it, Astrelle slowly shook her head in mild disbelief. “…well,” she cleared her throat quietly, “I certainly wouldn’t still be perched upon your shoulder should, uh… should that have been done to me. He is quite… loyal.” She paused before adding evenly, “Or stupid.”

Adelise De'bayle: “It would not be the first time, though he probably believes I deserved my own chance at revenge. All other times were his own doing, and he put me through great suffering because of that,” she continues on cryptically, as though the older woman were somehow supposed to understand anything she was spouting out. “It does not help that [REDACTED].”

Astrelle De'bayle quirks a brow. Shit like this is why she’d gone into machinery. “I-” her mouth tightened into a thoughtful line, though it did little to help combat the question marks zooming over her head. “You are… [REDACTED].” The older woman speculated cautiously, keen orbs peering over both Hestia and the wyvern upon her shoulder. “…in truth, you may have mentioned something to that effect before but I did not ask.” She paused. “…ah, would it be long-winded?”

Adelise De'bayle: “Not particularly… he [REDACTED]”

Astrelle De'bayle ’s brows rose at the explanation. She didn’t have a full grasp of the reply, evidenced by the way her eyes still darted between Nogelle and Hestia, but some realization dawned upon her. “…he is effectively a sort of [REDACTED], then.” She set her mouth in a pensive frown. “As well as having properties of [REDACTED]. How is it that he comes back into being?”

Adelise De'bayle: “[REDACTED],” shrugs. “But unlike when I was a child, where we had countless turns to adjust to one another’s presence, it is so…. [REDACTED]” she frowns. "The process of [REDACTED]“ she grimaces, ”[REDACTED].“

Astrelle De'bayle cut her eyes back to Nogelle with interest. "An… unwelcome image, but an interesting idea.” She kept an intrigued stare on the wyvern, fingers tapping against her elbows now as her mind slowly wrapped around the subject, plying it to better understand. “…would you wish him gone?”

Adelise De'bayle: “Perhaps once upon a time. Him and I were not on the best of terms for a long period… as he could be extremely negative and cause me quite a bit of grief. He… has gotten better as of late. In fact, the last I rid myself of him momentarily, I was [REDACTED]. Despite our hardships from time to time, he is… he is my friend. I would not want him to be gone, even if he can be troublesome. Each time that happens though, leaves a mark.” Opening her mouth, she exposed her sharpened canines. “These [REDACTED],” she frowns.

Astrelle De'bayle lips draw into a inward pucker, brows creasing in mild concern. An image of Hestia with [REDACTED] crossed her mind, followed shortly by a faint cry of 'Heretic!’ in Denz’s voice. She forced it back with a shake of her head. “…I… hope for the best, then.”

Adelise De'bayle: "As do I,” she exhales, “as though being a half-breed is not bad enough…” she mumbles, “I do not hate my father… but… I cannot say his choices made my life very easy.”

Astrelle De'bayle hums a soft note in reply. “No, I should imagine not.” Unable to think of anything else to say on the matter, Astrelle peers over Hestia for a lingering moment before slowly gesturing back to her desk. “…I was in the middle of repairing a gun—mayhaps I can find you in the foyer or in the yard in a short amount of time?”

Adelise De'bayle: “Ah… sure. I should see if Killian is around. Thank you for listening to me,” she brings an awkward hand to rub the back of her neck.

Astrelle De'bayle nods absently at her niece. “Aye… of course. We are family.” She manages a smile at the woman, composing herself. “I shall speak with you shortly.”

Adelise De'bayle turns with a small smile, opening the door to slip out.

Finally, this was the assurance I needed…

#journal #astrelle de'bayle

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celestianvices · 4 years ago

Text

Ah My Goddess

[tag: goddess vice]

ᚠ Feoh byþ frofur fira gehwylcum; sceal ðeah manna gehwylc miclun hyt dælan gif he wile for drihtne domes hleotan.

Wealth is a comfort to all; yet must everyone bestow it freely, if they wish to gain honour in the sight of the Lord.

Name: Ciavera, Goddess of Wealth Alias(es): Avera, Lady Vice Age: Unknown Family: Goddess Fehu (Mother), Demon Mammon (Father) Rank: Goddess 1st class, restricted (due to various actions and events) Mode of Transport: Coins Alternative fuel: Shopping Elemental Control: Metal Height: 5’6 Weight: 135lbs Hair: Raven black Eyes: Jade green Skin: Pale Markings: Two gold marks on the edges of her eyes, two purple dots over her eyebrows (may change) Angel: Burning Gold - A golden haired angel who wears golden braces on her wrists and an almost Egyptian looking shoulder/collar decoration, along with white cloth around her chest as well as her hips, fading into thee standard cloth mermaid like ‘tail’ of all angels. The cloth at her hips is affixed in front with a golden ornament. Burning Gold’s hair is longer on one side, and is worn falling over her shoulder where it comes down to her midriff, with a pronounced curl at the end. Her wings are golden like her hair, and posses a sharp, clean look to them like a swallow’s wings, with a metallic sheen. Her eyes have a golden color to them as well and her skin is just a bit more tan than Avera's.

Physical Description: Ciavera is a slender woman, who is a bit top heavy in her bust. She wears a blue and black outfit consisting of a form fitting dress split on both sides up to her hips, with dark gloved bodysuit underneath, having stirrup style feet at the bottom. She wears gold bangles on her wrists and ankles, and a brown leather belt with an unusual clasp in front and two false fox tails attached to the back. Accompanying the outfit is a shoulder wrap reminiscent of a celestial veil. When she is in her standard goddess clothes, she does not wear shoes.

Avera’s hair is long and straight, inky black and shiny with a slightly curved cut to her bangs, trailing into two slightly longer sections which frame her face with a straight, sharp cut to them. Her skin is a light copper color. Avera’s goddess marks lie on the edges of her eyes, and are gold in color, with her second set being two dots just above her eyebrows, slightly darker in color than her eye markings.

Background: Born the child of Fehu the Goddess of Wealth, and Mammon the Demon of Greed, Ciavera’s lineage gave her a rather unusual upbringing. Before she was born, her parents failed the test put forth for their union, and because of this she has never been able to meet her father. Her mother however named her as successor to her title, and when Ciavera was of the proper age the title of Goddess of Wealth was given over to her and she joined the Earth Support Office as a granter of wishes.

Over her long lifespan, the Goddess fulfilled her duties admirably for the most part, but as time went on her lazy, spoiled, and more or less greedy personality earned her the nickname Lady Vice (though her friends call her Avera or Vera). She caused a lot problems and got into a lot of trouble, sneaking off to earth frequently to mingle with the humans and shop and enjoy all of the amazing foods and other items they had invented.

Finding heaven increasingly uninteresting to her, Avera spent more and more time shirking her duties and playing around on Earth, and she came very close to missing a very important call because of her habit of showing up to work late (or not at all).

She caught it at the last call, asking the confused young woman on the other end if she had a coin on her and instructing her to take it out. As her medium of travel Ciavera was then able to transport herself to the woman's apartment, emerging from the coin to assess her wish and then send the request up for approval. The young woman (named Lin), was of course skeptical of this at first. She’d just witnessed a woman more or less pulling herself out of a coin resting in the palm of her hand, and the fact was she hadn’t even meant to call this mysterious ‘Earth Support Office’.

Once they began to talk though and she began to see the truth of Ciavera's words (after some demonstrations of her power), Lin agreed to make her wish. Lin wished for Avera's assistance in her search for the secret to eternal life. This wish was cunning and ambitious, worded in such a way that she was merely ‘searching’ for the secret rather than asking for it to be handed to her outright. Avera was impressed, amazed even and almost instantly smitten, and because of her clever wording, the wish was approved and Avera was given permission to stay by Lin's side and help her in the search.

This arrangement worked well for them right up until the administration in heaven noticed how close the two had become and recognized the sure signs that the new goddess of wealth had fallen in love with a human. And so they attempted to cancel the wish, and called her back to heaven, placing restrictions on her license and forbidding her from returning to earth.

Rising into the air though as her departure was initialized, Lin called out to her, swearing that she would not let them keep her from the goddess. As she was drawn away, she was able to nod to Lin one last time, signifying that she’d heard the woman's words.

As yet unknown to those in heaven, Avera had taken a certain item from there and brought it down to earth as a gift for the woman she’d come to care for so deeply, explaining to her what it was and how it worked. The item in question was an angel’s egg, hung on a pendant around her neck and left behind with her when Ciavera had been called back. Now it was Lin's best hope for returning her Lady to her side.

At the time, Avera had only been training her in the magical arts for a short time, but she had seen that Lin had a natural talent possibly from a mystical ancestor somewhere in her lineage. A part of this talent included an ability that allowed her to sense the life force (aura) of living things, and humans especially.

It was thanks largely to this innate magical ability that she was able to swallow the egg and bond with it, her heart and will creating her own angel, a small creature with red spiky hair named Scarlet Moon. Though she was small thanks to having just hatched, the little angel was strong, and with their help Lin took to studying once more, this time with an unwavering focus on finding a spell that would help her get into heaven to find Avera.

And while she was working below, Ciavera was making every attempt to escape as well, while under the watchful gaze of her superiors. They seemed to be keeping a constant eye on her, but at last she was able to use her Earth Support Office phone to contact Lin, and though they only had a brief amount of time, the two were able to coordinate a plan that would allow Lin to enter heaven and meet with her to make a proper escape.

Avera directed her to a spell book she’d left behind, giving Lin the page number for a spell that could open a portal to heaven. After their conversation, the two couldn’t risk contacting each other again, and having to wait for the agreed upon date was painful, but with the help of her angel, Lin was able to successfully cast the spell.

She arrived in heaven, only to find that Avera was not at their rendezvous. Instead, her angel Burning Gold came to find Lin, sent by Ciavera to guide her. Through her communications with Lin's angel, she learned that their call had been monitored; something they’d known was a possibility. Avera had been taken to a facility where they planned to administer an elixir to remove her memories of her time with Lin. Inter-species love was still a forbidden thing, and they wished to avoid another incident like the one with her parents. Better to stop this now before things got out of hand.

They didn’t realize things were already out of their hands.

She met Ciavera halfway up the building, after she’d escaped from her room and knocked out anyone who didn’t get out of her way on the way down. Seeing each other again for the first time in months, Avera almost leapt into her arms, and Lin enfolded her, lifting her up and holding Ciavera to her in an embrace that was all too brief for the both of them, but the pair knew that they’d have more time for that once they’d made it back to earth.

With no time to lose, they opted to recklessly leap out of the nearest window together despite being on the third floor of the building, and because fortune was with them that night, they landed safely on a tree and from there, were able to climb down and take off into the night, avoiding searching guards and unsuspecting civilians as they beat a hasty path to the portal Lin had opened.

Time was not on their side, but even still they managed to skate through just in the nick of time.

Of course, just making it back to earth together wasn’t enough, and soon they got a call from heaven once again. Avera refused to return vehemently, and after a drawn out series of arguments, was finally allowed to remain with Lin, though they stated that until such time as their love could be fully proven the original stipulation would remain in place, meaning she could only stay with her until the completion of her wish.

Since then she has mostly remained on earth, trying to avoid contact with other deities whenever possible so as to avoid the awkward questions about her situation and other similar things.

Powers and Abilities:

Elemental control (Metal) – Avera’s magical focus is metal, she can control and manipulate it, and many of her spells involve the conjuring of melee weapons such as blades, maces, hammers and spears. In addition; because of her association with wealth she has many money related spells, including ones to bring or deny monetary fortune, and ones that call on coins as weapons (include having a giant coin fall on her enemies).

Flight – A standard ability for most (if not all) gods and goddesses, Avera has the ability to move through the air without the use of wings or other outside assistance

Teleportation (situational) – Avera can transport herself instantly to any location in which there is a coin. This coin could be in someone’s pocket, in their hand, lying on the ground or under water. Regardless of the location she can emerge from it as if it were a kind of doorway (of course if it’s in a pocket things can get awkward).

Animal affinity – Because wealth in the old days was as much about livestock and land as it was coins and treasure, Avera can summon and tame various animals, though she is fond of horses, cats, and foxes in particular (foxes being more about her mischievous side than about her monetary influence).

Pipe fox – Avera carries with her a kiseru pipe, from which she can summon a small, snake-like and smoky red fox. The fox can change it’s size drastically and serves as her steed as well as her companion animal. At it’s full size, the animal is of a similar length and shape as a Chinese dragon.

#out of aura #goddess vice

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