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kiki-shortsnout · 3 years ago

Note

If you're still taking prompts from the intimacy prompts list. 43 with IronStrange or Frostiron please! Love your writing! 💙💙💙

Hey! I've finally finished my IronStrange Bigbang!! So I can come back to my prompts! Thank you for waiting!

Warnings: Alpha/Omega, Slight torture, Blood (nothing Graphic)

FrostIron: Head in lap.

***

Tony had been in this position before, more times than he was willing to admit. Hands bound behind his back, his wrists bleeding from where he’d been tugging at his restraints, his palms sealed together from the stickiness of his blood. The strain on his thighs and knees was a dull burn, a constant ache that never wavered, the grip in his hair ensuring he never sat back on his legs in a desperate reprieve.

If he could survive the torture of the Ten Rings, he could survive this. The arc reactor was already lodged in his chest, the frigid metal caressing the bone of his sternum. There wasn’t much more anyone could do to him, he was already in constant pain from the thing keeping him alive, could feel the shrapnel in his chest rattling with every gasp. Apart from taking his life, which he wasn’t sure he was fond of anyway, there wasn’t anything these kidnappers could take from him.

At least, that’s what Tony thought until they brought in Loki.

Bruises were littered over his high cheekbones, his split lip catching Tony’s attention and making him wriggle against the hand in his hair. He grit his teeth at the kick in the back of his thigh for his effort, not showing any outward pain.

Tony had seen lots of different sides to Loki over the last few months. The would be conqueror ensnared in a mind-controlling spell, a contrite younger brother, wanting to make amends with Thor but not knowing how to. There was the Loki who enjoyed pranking the Avengers, mischief, and humor dancing in his eyes, a Loki who read quietly in Tony’s workshop, finding a quiet freedom in being outside of Odin’s influence.

Recently, there had been the Loki who watched Tony when he thought no one was looking, a flirtatious lilt to his words when they talked, completely at odds with the shy Alpha who brought Tony gifts from other realms.

But, Tony had never seen this.

He could feel the livid rage in those green eyes, like fire on his skin, an intense fury that would make lesser men cower. Even Tony, who trusted Loki, tried to shuffle away from the gaze, scared he could see his weakness, his patheticness at being apprehended like this. His eyes shone bright like the magic he wielded, sweeping over Tony’s body, seeking out any injury, his teeth baring in a furious snarl.

Despite the situation, the tongue lashing he was no doubt going to receive if they managed to get out of here alive, shivers still teased over Tony’s body at the sound. He’d always fought against the idea of having a dominant Alpha, despised the thought that he needed taking care of, that he was inferior in any way, but Loki’s overprotective snarl and the dangerous look in his eyes was making Tony’s inner Omega purr and preen at the attention.

Now is not the time.

‘How the mighty have fallen,’ a silky, sensual voice wrapped around them, shaking Tony out of his fantasies about sexy, deadly alien Alphas. Breaking away from Loki’s stare, the ominous promise in it, Tony turned his head, trying to find the source of the voice. He wasn’t sure where they were, he’d already done recon as soon as he’d woken up in here, and the only information he had was that they were in some sort of castle, stone floors, stone walls, candlesticks on the walls.

Alright, not candlesticks, some sort of magical floating orb that was casting light around them, but he still doesn’t believe Thor, or Loki when they’ve tried to explain magic, so he refused to see them floating around like ghostly fireflies.

Loki didn’t answer, but Tony could tell from his expression that he recognized her, a growl thundering in his chest as he looked between whoever was behind him and Tony’s battered body.

‘My, my, what a beautiful Omega.’

Tony tried to look up, but the hand in his hair gripped hard enough to rip strands from his skull, and he understood that no eye contact was allowed. Green knee high boots entered the line of his vision, and a cool hand grasped his chin, yanking his face up. She was beautiful, all long legs and gorgeous blonde hair, looking like a medieval warrior princess or something. Tony knew that beautiful creatures were often the most dangerous ones.

He’d fallen for one after all.

‘Spirited too, I can see what he sees in you,’ she cooed down to him, nails digging into his cheeks, his blood oozing over her fingers. Tony heard Loki’s frantic struggle against his captors, the shift of leather dragging across stone.

‘No matter your beauty, you are still a pathetic, disgusting creature.’

It’s cute she thought her words will hurt him. He’d been called far worse, tortured to his breaking point before. This was nothing, his body being bruised? That was what happened when he got called to assemble. He grinned up at her, feeling a twist of delight low in his gut as the skin above her nose wrinkled at his blatant disrespect.

‘You do not understand mortals, you never have, never looked past your disdain of them,’ Loki finally said. ‘Leave him. He is worthless to you. It is me you want, Amora.’

Pretty name, Tony thought to himself, inhaling deeply as he tried to work out her secondary gender. Omega, interesting.

‘And what has changed that your view of them is now positive? I remember a time when you sought to enslave these pitiful creatures, and now you live among them, spurning my calls for help, the glory of seeing our enemies at our feet…’

Hell hath no fury like an Omega spurned, Tony chuckled, suppressing his cry as her foot connected with his ribs, sending him sprawling.

Alright, that one hurt.

‘I’ve been watching you Loki, and I do not believe your view has changed. You still see Midgardians as pitiful. It is a single mortal who has changed your outlook,’ Amora whispered, her heels clicking across the stone as she picked up Tony by the back of the neck, yanking him back to his knees.

‘You’re barking up the wrong tree, sister. Loki doesn’t think of me like that, trust me, I’ve tried to flirt with him, and he’s not interested,’ Tony laughed, running his tongue over the blood that coated his teeth.

He wasn’t lying. Tony had tried for weeks to show Loki he was interested in changing their friendship to something more. Short of pinning him down and scenting him like a crazed animal, there was nothing Tony hadn’t done to try and coax Loki into a courtship of some sort.

Loki hadn’t responded to any of it.

‘How little you understand. Loki has always had everything he’s coveted taken from him. He hides what he treasures most, even to the one he cares for. Don’t you remember, Loki? How we used to wreak havoc across the nine realms to cause your father pain due to his special treatment of Thor, his golden child,’ Amora hissed, tightening her hold on his throat.

Tony refused to react, ignoring the panic building in him as his body struggled to draw in a lungful of air, blotchy spots distorting his vision.

‘Leave him, Amora.’

There was no panic, no Alpha command in his voice. His words were concise, coated with a brittle frost. His gaze slid over to where Loki was kneeling, red bleeding into his eyes, his muscles bunched and tense, losing his grip on his magic, his Jotunn heritage blurring the edges of the Alpha he knew.

‘Careful, you’ll send him skittering away with that monster lurking beneath your skin,’ Amora taunted, moving to the side so they could look at each other, her hold on his throat never wavering. ‘This one is strong, isn’t he? I can see he’s in pain, you can smell it in his scent can’t you, the way he’s begging you to save him, the big, strong Alpha,’ she sneered.

Tugging him higher and off his knees, Tony struggled to get a foot onto the stone floor to support his weight, knowing his neck was going to snap if he didn’t.

‘What will it take to break you, hmm?’ she whispered, leaning towards him. Her sunshine blonde hair slipped over his shoulder, tickling his skin as she brought her nose to his unmarked bonding gland, scenting it. ‘What if I gave you to one of the Alphas who stole you, ruined you for him?’

He’d been threatened that in Afghanistan, one of many taunts to make him give up the Jericho missile.

‘Make sure they’re attractive, my public image will suffer if my bond mate is butt ugly,’ Tony answered, his tone considering even as he fought his restraints, the scalding agony of his lungs becoming impossible for him to ignore.

‘I will tear apart any Alpha that dares touch him,’ Loki spat from the other side of the room, his voice thick as if something was obstructing his throat.

Amora froze even as her lips brushed against Tony’s neck, her gaze flicking up to peer through long eyelashes at him, searching for something.

‘Do your worst, sweetheart,’ Tony challenged.

Pretty pink lips curved in an erotic smile. A hand splayed over his stomach, fingers walking up towards his chest. He could feel the tips of her sharp nails through his tattered shirt, and then she was tearing it aside, the azure light of the arc reactor lighting up the gloom of the room.

‘Found you,’ she taunted, finger tapping across the glass.

No matter how much he tried to keep his poker face, the sheer terror he felt when her nails plunged into his skin surrounding the arc reactor was exposed to them all through his scent, the sour scent of it pungent in the room, trapped by the stone walls and turning thicker by the second. Hating himself, Tony let out a high pitched whine, a frantic call for help.

Not there!

His body crumpled to the floor as the pressure on his neck vanished, shuddering pain coursing through his shins as he fell forward, his face taking the brunt of the fall. The memories of terror and agony he felt at Afghanistan left him deaf to the fight around him, the blurring figure of Loki ferociously attacking their captors nothing more than an afterthought as he curled in a ball to protect himself.

‘Stark.’

Tell us how to build a Jericho missile!

‘Stark!’

The hell did you do to me?

‘Anthony!’

That is an electromagnet hooked up to a car battery, and it's keeping the shrapnel from entering your heart.

Hands fell on his back, and he yelled, rolling on his back to fight, succumbing to his basic instincts in his fear. His lips drew back in a snarl, ready to bite whoever touched him.

‘You are unharmed, Tony, beloved, trust me.’ A wrist was thrust in front of his nose, ignoring the way Tony latched onto it, attempting to bite chunks from his skin. ‘Breathe in, scent me, know who I am,’ the voice instructed, and he could smell crisp snow, permeating the fear gripping his brain.

I know this scent.

‘That’s it, beloved, breathe, regain control of your mind. You are safe, Amora has fled, and I will never let any harm you.’

Tony could feel a hand covering the arc reactor and instead of recoiling from it, his instincts made him lean up into it, knowing this person would protect him. He breathed the scent in deep, the primal part of him knowing he was safe. When the panic had subsided, he looked up into unfamiliar red eyes.

‘Loki?’ he rasped, his words aggravating his abused throat.

‘Do not let my appearance scare you, it is still me. I will regain control of my magic…in a moment,’ Loki conceded, dropping his gaze to look at Tony’s throat.

‘I’m not scared, not of you,’ Tony blurted.

‘Kind words. I know how I appear,’ Loki said in a clipped tone, reaching around Tony’s back and ripping apart the restraints. Tony whimpered in relief, his back sagging to the floor as he brought his hands up. Loki’s eyes blazed ruby as he gently grasped them, bringing them to his face so he could examine the damage.

‘You’re gorgeous,’ Tony argued, delirious from both the pain and the scent Loki was emitting. He wanted to drown in it, wrap it around himself like a blanket and never surface. Even with his body protesting, the tenuous link he had on his consciousness, darkness lapping at the edges of his mind, he managed to put his head in Loki’s lap, breathing a sigh of relief.

‘You, Anthony Stark are a foolish, remarkable creature. Stubborn, brave thing,’ Loki muttered, pulling off his cape to drape on Tony, his thumb smearing across the blood on Tony’s wrist.

‘I’ll take you away from this wretched place once I’ve got better control of my inst…magic,’ Loki amended. Tony liked that Loki’s instincts were going haywire around him, that this gorgeous Alpha was keeping hold of him in case any dared to attack.

‘I’m sorry, that this happened to you,’ Loki whispered at him, stroking a blue hand through his hair.

‘Don’t be, it’s not the worst thing that’s happened to-’

Loki’s growl ripped through the air, making Tony flinch at the force of it, feeling like he could be torn asunder by the noise alone.

‘Sorry, my behavior is inexcusable. My instincts are hard to control when I’m around you, they always have been,’ Loki snapped, forcing his gaze away, the hand in Tony’s hair stopping.

‘I don’t want my Alpha to control himself when he’s with me. I know this is the wrong time to be asking…but was what any of she said true?’

‘What did you call me?’

‘My Alpha,’ Tony said easily, feeling his head droop as his body began to succumb to the pain.

‘Anthony,’ Loki growled, bending over to hold him close. ‘We will speak of this once we return.’

Tony nodded, going limp in Loki’s hold, his last thoughts about how he would tell Rhodey he was going to mate an alien Alpha.

***

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#story prompt #thanks for the prompt!#yet more kiki prompts!#frostiron #tony x loki #fanfic #thank for the ask!!#thanks anon!

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seagreen-meets-grey · 3 years ago

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The Last Slide (Disco, Disco)

This fic is part of the b99 fic exchange organized by @b99fandomevents and I wrote this for @feeisamarshmallow :)

I combined a few prompts and hope I did them justice.

Read on ao3

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Chapters: 1 2 3 4

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Of all the feelings the human body is able to experience, the first one greeting Jake when he comes to is pain. If he had a choice, he would choose something happier, more exciting and, well, less painful.

It rises on the back of his head, almost at the top, like the source of a river somewhere high in the mountains. High in the mountains – that’s what he feels like.

It then wraps around his skull, pulsating behind his forehead, and trickles down into his neck. Sleeping on the floor of his first apartment for two weeks because he had yet to buy a decent bed or mattress was nothing against this, at least that’s what his tense muscles are screaming at him right now.

Squeezing his eyes shut against the pain, he turns his head and winces. His whole body feels sore. He wonders if last night ended in a few rounds too many but comes up short. What did he do last night? The mere attempt at remembering sends a sharp pain through his skull.

He’s on the floor. That’s the next thing he realizes. The surface is cold and hard, not concrete, not wood, not tiles, certainly not carpet. Where is he? How did he get here?

Hard as he tries, he just… He can’t remember. The pulsing in his head gets louder and he groans. Slowly, carefully, he blinks one eye open, bracing himself against any glaring light. Then opens the other one. It’s dark. Everywhere, all around, deep, dark blackness. Is he blind? He blinks a couple of times and sees shimmers. Can blind people see shimmers?

The hand raised to the back of his head comes away warm and moist. He immediately knows it’s blood but sniffs at it anyway. He was right. Because what else would it be? “Bring a fancy bottle of lavender shampoo,” he hears Charles in his head, “because shampooing a woman’s hair is the most erotic thing–” Jake groans again to drown out the voice. No, it’s definitely blood.

But seriously, where is he? His chest tightens as he feels the panic rising. He can’t see, he has no idea what’s going on, he has a bleeding wound on his head and he’s sure there are bruises all over his body. He could poke all the places he suspects, but a disapproving face appears in front of him before he can move a muscle. It’s Amy. Amy… Something tells him he’s supposed to call her. Did he forget to call her? Does she know where he is? Oh god, is Mac okay?!

An overwhelming sense of longing hits him and the panic returns not a moment later when he realizes he can’t call her because his phone is gone and so are his keys and his wallet is not in his pocket either and– His breathing becomes shallow, his chest feels tight, lungs filled with vacuum; he presses the balls of his hands against his eyes and the shimmers get worse.

“Breathe, Jake.” It’s her voice. “In… And out… In… Through the nose, Jake… And out…” Gradually, he regains his composure. His head still hurts and he still can’t see a thing, but he’s calm again. Well, calmer.

He tries to sit up but sees stars as soon as he raises his head too much. Okay, cool, cool, cool, the floor it is, then.

You’re a detective of the NYPD, he tells himself. You’ve been in situations worse than this. Remember, you survived several months in Florida. And prison.

His blood turns to ice. He isn’t back there, is he?! Back in solitary, alone, in the middle of the night, for two long weeks–

No, you idiot, the rational voice in his head immediately scolds him. It sounds a lot like Amy.

Once again, he tries to remember what happened, but... Nothing. Nada. Niente. Nichts. Only a worsening headache. So he goes back further, imagines he’s walking down a road inside his brain, passing blurry corners and intersections, until something appears before him, sharp and clear.

There. He can start there.

***

The sound of a file landing on his desk pulled Jake’s eyes from his paperwork. It was a case file, evident to him by one single glance. But what really piqued his interest was who had delivered it to him.

“Ah, look who’s spending one of her last days at the Nine-Nine in her favorite bullpen! To what do we owe this honor?”

Amy Santiago, about to kick-start her career in her very own precinct as the youngest female Captain of the NYPD, looked down at him proudly and nodded at the folder on his desk. “Check the file.”

Intrigued, Jake did so, scanning the forms inside. He gasped, eyes wide and twinkling. “A murder at the water park? Ames!”

“Did you read the details,” she asked, leaning down and eagerly pointing at the page, “about how the victim died?”

His eyes flew over the paper, soaking up every bit of important information in record time, the glee in his chest threatening to bubble over. “Oh, Amy, please tell me this case hasn’t been assigned yet.”

“It has.” The glee cooled down to a simmer at her words, but as he looked up, the little smirk on her face turned the heat up again to boil. (Maybe he was a bit hungry.) “I asked Holt if I could have it and he said yes. And he let me pick a secondary.”

Ants were crawling through his veins as he waited for her to confirm what he could already read on her face.

“Jake Peralta,” she said in a voice cornering on solemn, “pack your bag, because we’re going to the water park!”

“Yes!” He celebrated by taking the pile of paperwork he’d been working on all morning and throwing it in the air. It scattered all over his desk, on his lap, on the floor around his feet. A few sheets slid under his desk, Scully’s chair, Holt’s shoes – oh. Whoopsie.

“Peralta, please clean this up,” the Captain ordered in a stern voice. “You’re taking on the case with Santiago, but I still expect your paperwork to be done on time.”

Jake nodded as he stood. “Will do, Sir. Trust me, I won’t water anything down for you!” A single raised eyebrow was his answer before the Captain returned to his office. “Yeah, that was kind of lame, wasn’t it?”

Amy scrunched up her face in that adorable way of hers and nodded.

“Doesn’t matter, we’re going to the water park!”

“It’s for work, Jake,” she reminded him, “we’re not there to splash around. When I said to pack your bag, I meant your work bag.”

“Right.” He sobered a little, but then he remembered the details of the case. “Time to pack the real work bag that I definitely have and hit the road with the best former detective and soon-to-be Captain of the NYPD!” He grabbed his jacket and had taken three steps towards the elevator when he heard someone call his name in a reprimanding voice from the vicinity of Terry’s desk.

He turned to meet the expectant eyes of both his Lieutenant and wife. “Huh? Oh, right, my mess.”

Scrambling to pick up the scattered sheets of paper, one hand preventing the badge around his neck from hanging into his face bending forward, he could practically feel the combination of eye-roll and fond smile directed at him.

“We’re not going until this afternoon,” Amy explained, “we both still have paperwork to do and the movers are coming back around noon for the rest of the furniture, remember?”

Charles chose that moment to invite himself into the conversation, rolling over in his chair. “I can handle that for you two so you can go work the case together because you’re an absolute dream team!” He grabbed the file from Jake’s desk and scanned the information. “Oh daddy, this is a good one!”

“Oh daddy?” Jake repeated while Amy shook her head.

“This is our last day at the apartment and I already cleared everything with Holt. You’re welcome to help, Charles, but Jake and I are handling this.”

Charles shrugged apologetically at Jake and rolled back to his desk.

“Wow,” Jake said in a low voice, “he didn’t even protest this time. You really have him under control these days.”

Amy quickly raised a hand to shush him. “Psst, don’t jinx it.” She fished a sheet he’d overlooked from the hood of his jacket. “See you later, babe!”

***

The rest of the morning is all but a blur. He remembers Rosa showing up late for work, remembers Terry settling a lasagna-related feud between Hitchcock and Scully, but that’s it. Mama Maglione, his head still hurts…

There were movers. There were boxes, a few shelves, the fridge. And there was Amy, finding one of her favorite pens behind the wardrobe when they lifted it, beaming with joy.

He tries to roll over but the movement makes him dizzy again and his stomach queasy. His ears ring. He has a concussion, no doubt.

Did one of the movers drop a shelf on his head?

No, something at the edge of his memory tells him they’re long gone. Wherever Jake is, though, he’s not been here long enough for his blood to dry.

If only his ears stopped ringing, then he could listen for anyone, anything – “Hello?” he croaks out and clears his throat. “Hello!”

He listens, calls again, louder, the volume of his own voice hurting his head. There is no response.

Letting out a string of swears that would make Holt gasp out loud, he massages his temples in an attempt to relieve some of the pain.

It just so works enough that he can muster up the concentration needed to dive back into his memories.

***

Amy wiped a few beads of sweat from her brow and stepped back to examine her work. The parts of the walls still occupied by a last piece of furniture up until an hour ago now glistened in a crisp, pristine white, just like the rest of the apartment’s walls.

She dropped the paint-brush she’d just cleaned into the bucket with the paint roller and the other brushes, took off her gloves and went to wash her hands with the piece of soap she’d brought in forethought like the everyday-wizard that she was. She’d also brought a towel, a big bottle of water, snacks for lunch, a painter’s smock, old shoes, and everything else that Jake would never have thought to bring.

He was sitting in the middle of the living room, patting the space next to him when Amy returned from the bathroom. Her steps echoed in the empty space, loud and foreign on the laminate floor. She sat down next to him, a hand on his arm as she studied the bare place.

Moving a shoe across the floor, tapping a finger against a zipper, even exhaling, it all made so much noise in the silence. At the same time, the apartment couldn’t be louder. It was crawling with ghosts trying to make themselves heard.

There was the TV blaring the news or cartoons or Die Hard, there was the squad gathered around the table at Thanksgiving, there was Victor Santiago briefly interacting with Holt and creating an impact still reverberating in every corner, there was Pimento contemplating his professional future, Hitchcock justifying his choice to go shirtless during dinner, Charles getting mauled by a live turkey, his father cutting off his other thumb.

There was Mac taking his first steps, saying his first words, there was Jake realizing he never ever wanted his life to be anything but this. Realizing how much he’d grown in the past years. He had a wife, a child, a much stabler balance in his bank account. He was wearing a tie to work most of these days. This morning, he hadn’t even made a fuss about cleaning up the mess he’d made. Just a few years ago, he’d have simply left it for someone else to clean, maybe Terry, maybe Amy, probably Charles.

During all this time, this apartment had always been there, even before Holt had joined the precinct. Even before he’d figured out the reason behind his instant mood change whenever Santiago smiled or yelled at him or did or said something he immediately wanted to tease her about. Even before he knew what he really wanted from his life.

“This is it,” Amy whispered, but she could have screamed it, it wouldn’t have made much of a difference.

“Yep,” he said, popping the p. “Time to leave.”

Neither of them moved. It seemed almost rude to disrupt this rowdy silence, to pull the plug and close the door, forever sealing the many lives that met here, happened here, were quite literally created here, within these walls. Some time in the near future, a completely different life would fill up the space, change the personality of every nook and cranny, cover the walls and floor with new memories.

“Remember the time my dad and Holt met, right over there?” Her voice almost sounded hoarse and his hand instinctively covered hers.

He turned to her with excited eyes. “That’s what I just thought!” She grinned, interlaced their fingers and squeezed. “Hey, you know what they say: Great minds think alike.”

When her eyes met his this time, they conveyed a meaning much deeper than a simple saying. Theirs were great minds that thought alike, in so many ways. It was a connection, a meeting of souls, a clashing of personalities that mended and merged and completed the other on a level that just made sense. Maybe it was because they’d known each other, worked with each other, had been such an integral part of each other’s lives for so long. But he couldn’t deny that it felt like magic.

Magic. That was a good descriptor, he thought. He knew that a part of her would try to explain mating hormones and brain signals and psychological influences and genes and evolution. But the part of her that loved, the part that laughed at his jokes and fell asleep next to him every night, it knew he was right. Whatever they had, it was magical and it was real. Permanent.

She leaned over to kiss him, soft and slow. It was a moment he’d call perfect, if it weren’t for the lack of interruption by a hyperactive toddler demanding attention. Jake almost expected Mac’s small body to jump between them, crawl over their laps, and ask for his dad to play airplane with him again.

But today, in-between work at the precinct and the apartment where a three-year-old would just get in the way, Mac was spending the day with his grandparents while his parents took care of everything. Now that Amy was making more money and with their decision to have more kids, the old apartment just wasn’t enough anymore, a toddler with an abundance of energy not even factored in. It only made sense to move to a bigger place, and that meant saying goodbye to these familiar old walls.

With a sigh, Jake got to his feet and held out his hand. “Come on.” In the end, they weren’t leaving the treasure chest behind, they were taking it with them, in their hearts, in all their stuff waiting to be unpacked in the new place, in their memories. In a way, they were leveling up. Bam, Mario reference.

She took his hand and let him pull her to her feet, taking one last deep breath before patting the pockets of her jeans. “Keys are all here. By the way, I promised Rosa I’d help her with something tonight, you’ll have to meet with the landlord alone. Is that okay?”

He shrugged. “Sure.” Normally, it would feel weird to him to finalize this whole thing without her, but they’d just said their goodbye together. Everything else was already part of the next level. (He started to get into that Mario analogy. Or was it a metaphor?)

Looking around one last time, hand in hand, they turned around and opened the door – to the next part of their lives.

***

There’s someone else nearby. Jake can hear steps through the ringing in his ears. He tries to speak, call for help – but decides against it at the last second. He’s not sure the heavy boots he can make out approaching him are housing particularly friendly feet.

“Where is he?” The voice is sharp, male, vaguely familiar. “Where is the son of a bitch?”

Jake has no idea. About anything. A bright light is shone in his face, a small flashlight maybe. He tries to turn his head to see the person the voice belongs to, but as soon as he moves, a dirty boot presses down on his face. He can feel the footprint marking his skin, hears his head throbbing.

“Where the fuck is he and how did he do it?!”

The boot presses down harder and Jake’s lips touch the floor. Something smells familiar as well, but he can’t concentrate on that. He tries to speak but his voice only comes out muffled. The other man realizes and the boot disappears.

“Answer me! How the fuck did that bastard pull it off?!” The man spits on the ground, only inches away from Jake’s face. The saliva is foaming in the middle. Jake registers the flooring but his brain can’t make sense of it.

“I don’t know,” he gets out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The boot connects with his shin, hard. He cries out in pain.

“WHERE!” The boot kicks him again, this time right in the old gunshot wound back from Florida. Jake clenches his teeth and hisses. “WHERE IS HE!”

“I don’t… Ugh…” He has to close his eyes against the light. Bright spots are dancing behind his lids. He can’t think. “Who even…”

This time, there are three consecutive kicks in his stomach. He coughs and splutters, curling his body protectively around himself. He feels like throwing up, breathless, dizzy. Another kick hits him in the ribs and for a moment, there’s only pain. He’s disoriented, searing hot fire spreads through his chest, he can taste blood on his tongue.

“I’m not an idiot. I know exactly what he did! NOW TELL ME WHAT YOU KNOW OR I WILL–”

Jake prepares himself for another kick, but it doesn’t come.

“Shit…” the man hisses and the light goes out. Somewhere, faintly, Jake hears a door opening. But before he can even think about calling out, horrible pain explodes in his abdomen. This time, it’s too much. He can’t speak, he can’t think, he can’t breathe, and before he knows it, he’s out.

#b99fandomevents #b99 summer 2021 fic exchange #b99 #the last ride #b99 fic #peraltiago #jake x amy #sleuth sisters #jake peralta #amy santiago #rosa diaz #maja writes

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ops-on-loop · 3 years ago

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OP Review #2: Death Note

For my first solo review I wanted to review openings for another series very near and dear to my heart, Death Note. Death Note is my absolute favorite anime of all time (you can read my review where I gush about it here), so I’m very excited to dive into the openings!

Death Note has two openings for its anime, “the WORLD” for the first 19 episodes and “What’s up, people?!” for episodes 20 to 37. They’re very interesting openings, I’m excited to dive into my thoughts on each!

“the WORLD” (link to OP)

Category 1, Artstyle/Animation: The art and animation in this opening is incredible. Of course, it was made in the early 2000’s, so it isn’t as crisp and clean as the openings that we see now, but it’s still up there. The beautiful renaissance painting parodies across the opening, the detail to each character (even in moments where I’d imagine it’s REALLY hard to animate, like :08-:11 specifically), just the variety of shots in general is amazing. We never stay in the same environment for more than 3-4 seconds, the opening is always taking you to a different shot of a different character doing something that holds great symbolism to the story. It’s pretty great. They’re also able to pair the music REALLY well with the shots in the opening which is just… mwah. So good. 2/2

Category 2, Song: Bit of an unpopular opinion here… I’m not the biggest fan of the song by itself. I still love it paired with the opening, but when I hear people praise it as “a banger” in the same way that I’d applaud an opening song like “Sakura Kiss”, I just can’t agree. It’s a great song! I really like it! But I wouldn’t say it’s as god-tier as everyone makes it out to be. I rarely listen to it by itself, and I listen to a LOT of OPs when I’m driving/walking to classes so that’s saying a lot. One thing that’s pretty cool is that the song itself REALLY relates to the show. It’s in Japanese so even I missed it the first time around, but when looking up the lyrics some important/telling lines are “I won’t let anyone interfere with everything that will come about from now on”, “am I a broken Messiah? everyone wished for a finale”, and “someday, I’ll show you a shining sky”. If you’re familiar with the show… it feels like an opening song directly made for this anime. I can respect that. 1.5/2

Category 3, Relevance: This opening is filled with symbolism and references. There’s a lot of Christian symbolism, nods to events in the show, at some points the way that certain characters are LOOKING represents different views in the series, I LOVE openings that are packed full of references like this one. I’m not going to do a full-blown analysis on the opening as A) I’m probably gonna miss stuff and B) that’d take too long, but there’s plenty of “Death Note OP analysis” videos out there so feel free to check those out if you’re interested. I love openings that connect so much to the show it’s just… so good. 2/2

Category 4, Originality: Like I mentioned, it’s pretty PACKED, so even if it does a stereotypical anime opening thing (characters in a line/walking dramatically, etc.) it’s not for a very long time, and it’s surrounded by plenty of originality. The pseudo-renaissance art, different shots of Light in his god-like mindset above the city, all the great shots of Misa, it’s great. I wouldn’t say this is your typical anime opening, even if it does have some familiar elements. 1.5/2

Category 5, Bias: I really like and appreciate this opening, but I’d never call it one of my top favorites. Not to give away too much of the second half of this review, but I actually like OP2 better, so more of my bias points will go to that. To keep it at an even score I’ll give it a 1/2

Death Note’s first opening, “the WORLD” , scores an 8/10. I really like this opening, and even if it’s not one of my favorites I can respect how jam-packed it is with symbolism and references, which I always appreciate and like to see. Song is good too, not to the point that I listen to it by itself, but it’s a nice addition.

“Whats up, people?!” (link to OP)

Category 1, Artstyle/Animation: This opening upholds the same quality of animation as the first Death Note opening, if not even better. Shit gets crazy. I love the new effects and crazy backgrounds that this opening presents. Ryuk dancing with the apple, Misa on the bed sheets, Light in the MANY shots where he’s just losing his shit, and my absolute favorite shot with Light walking through his “ideal world”. This opening is so chaotic, which perfectly represents the latter half of Death Note… Light is losing his shit, everything is getting chaotic. 2/2

Category 2, Song: I might be in the minority here but I LOVE this opening song. It pairs with the opening so perfectly, and though I’m 100% not a heavy metal/screamo/whatever genre this is fan, I still absolutely rock out to this opening from time to time. My favorite part of the song also pairs with my favorite part of the opening, Light walking through his “ideal world”. The sudden calm pairs so perfectly with the scenery, and when it builds back up to the levels of madness it was at before it’s just gold. The lyrics… are interesting… lots of cursing and screaming and I can’t say it means a lot, it certainly sounds like what the inside of Light’s head probably sounds like by the end of the show. I love it. 2/2

Category 3, Relevance: While there aren’t as many symbolic shots as the first opening, a lot of it still relates to different characters in the show and how they’re portrayed. Misa, instead of being depressed and upset like she was in the first opening, is now simply doing her modeling biz, reflecting how she loses all of her memory of the Death Note in the latter half of the series. Light… we can all tell what the shots of Light are supposed to represent. He’s losing it. There’s a lot less L in the opening (for… sniff… obvious reasons), and all of the other important secondary main characters get pretty cool shots too. Going back again to my favorite scene in the opening (starting at :44), you can see Light walkling by all of the prominent figures in the second half of the series, with his view of each of them very clear based on where they are in comparison to him. In his ideal world, Mikami and Takeda are very prominent figures, with Mikami being closer to him than Takeda (shown by how he walks next to Mikami and away from/above Takeda (because… you know)). He also walks directly above Mello, who in his ideal world is living in the sewers, not much of a threat (which is pretty true for his role in the series). Finally we have Near, who lives in what would be darkness in Light’s ideal world, fighting against his idea of justice, perfectly representing how he views the figure “N” and how the series concludes. It’s just… I love it. While it doesn’t have meaning in every shot like the first opening, I still think that the second opening holds up with its madness and sprinkles of references thrown in. Also, seeing Light scream and thrash around is very therapeutic as he rarely loses his cool in the show. It’s nice… ( ￣ω￣) 2/2

Category 4, Originality: This opening is anything but ordinary. Not many shows go this crazy with their opening song choice and visuals, and I respect Death Note for changing it up a bit. It’s pretty cool and memorable, definitely sets it apart from a lot of the generic openings out there. 2/2

Category 5, Bias: While this opening isn’t on my “TOP 10 EPIC ANIME OPENINGS OF ALL TIME” list, it’s definitely up there around #11 or #12. I’ll always remember this opening as being a crazy cool viewing experience, I still listen to the song until this day, and for that I’ll give it a 2/2 bias points.

Yes, Death Note opening 2 scores a 10/10. Maybe I’m jumping the gun a little bit with this score but I really love this opening and think it deserves it! I’m probably in the minority with this opinion, hopefully not(?), but I have been confronted by a few friends going “?? how can you like the second opening better, the first is a classic” so please… don’t bully me. Death Note is my favorite anime, Light Yagami is probably my favorite anime character, clearly I already have pretty trash taste so don’t rely on me for the most “based” opinions~ (>ω^)

Death Note openings are pretty damn cool. They’re definitely made with a lot of care, they have a lot of relevance to the plot of the show, and they’re anything but typical and ordinary! Love this series and love the OPs just as much!

-zantids

#death note #the WORLD #whats up people?!#OPReview #op review #anime manga #animanga

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izartn · 4 years ago

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On the The Host romance:

A lil note: @into-september as you’re reading Twilight, and your last post made me realise this, I thought it better to write my own post and tag you! Hope you don’t mind.

The Host is the first novel of an “adult” science fiction trilogy by Stephanie Meyer which never was finished. Published in 2008, the same year as Breaking Dawn, I guess she preferred gaining the benefits of her vampire saga to keep on writing.

For shame, because for me, The Host is much better at establishing worldbuilding, a concept and its protagonists + a romance (not that there isn’t anything cuestionable in it, but to my taste it’s better done than in Twilight). Here is the first paragraph of The Host wikipedia’s section on plot:

A species of parasitic aliens called "Souls" have invaded Earth, deeming the humans too violent to deserve the planet. When a Soul is implanted into a host body, the consciousness of the original owner is erased, leaving their memories and knowledge.

Wanderer, a Soul, is placed into the body of Melanie Stryder. However, Melanie's consciousness is still alive and begins to communicate with Wanderer mentally. Wanderer's assigned "Seeker" suggests that she could be placed into Melanie to retrieve the memories before disposing of the defective body, but Wanderer makes several attempts to deny her Seeker's wishes. As Wanderer starts to uncover some of Melanie's memories of her younger brother Jamie Stryder and her boyfriend Jared Howe, Melanie gets her to follow a series of landmarks throughout the Arizona desert to find her Uncle Jeb, hoping that Jared and Jamie are with him. By doing so, she would be denying the Seeker Melanie's memories and the humans they would lead her to.

Just. Read that and have the face to tell me it doesn’t sound more interesting than Twilight I dare you. Of course the books are different genres, although the focus is in the... more sentimental part in both. It’s just that The Host story is more unusual and the worldbuilding dreamy and subtly horrific.

Well I said I was gonna talk about the romance right? Spoilers incoming!

A bit of more context is necessary; in The Host, Melanie, the human Wanda (nickname of Wanderer) is possessing, is in love with the boyfriend mentioned in the sinopsis, Jared. Wanda being in the body of Melanie, feels things for him. We can divine for context this is sexual attraction plus having access to some of Melanie’s memories and noticing Jared is pretty ok as humans not possessed are left on Earth.

Melanie reaction to this oscillates between “don’t you dare touch my boyfriend alien” and “well of course you fell for him, he’s pretty awesome” to “if I can’t it’s ok if you want to” when she’s feeling herself disappear at one point. Which is bullshit bc her conscience comes back when Wanda goes to tell Jared to kiss her bc she’s feeling Melanie disappear and when he gets near Wanda, Melanie usually mounts a whole circus in her head. It works.

Well that’s one part of the romance. The other is Ian, a human in the settlement who is pretty level-headed and who starts talking to Wanda, as her guard first and then as her friend. No previous contact with Melanie, so he mets Wanda in Melanie’s body and isn’t excessively hostile or sad. Bc you know, an alien is in the body of you “niece, girlfriend, sister, etc” isn’t really conductive to good first impressions although that alien has come bearing the news that said person is still alive somewhere in their brain.

(Also the whole human group is so hilariously based on those paranoid about the government/end-of-days usa people... And it works! LMAO) (The social dynamics are interesting in this book ok? basic but ingenious)

So Wanda falls slowly without noticing for Ian; Ian falls first and confesses and everything. I think their first kiss was a bit sketchy? But generally they good.

The interesting thing is this: Melanie and so her body, is in love and attracted to Jared. Wanda, inhabiting Melanie’s body, starts realising that although Jared is pretty ok and all that, he’s really Melanie’s love; she doesn’t exactly like his more violent tendencies.

(Really he’s more apocalypse survivor hardcore, but he really was a dick to her at the start, bc alien possessing girlfriend and all. Also gave her mixed signals, etc. Very american male which, eh. Melanie is also very apocalypse survivor hardcore; the two mesh well bc of that lmao)

Well, as Stephanie Meyer is SM, and she has some weird ideas about romance the thing is, Wanda doesn’t feel sexually attracted to Ian. Bc all the hormones in her body are signaling only Jared. But she really is romantically attracted to Ian, and loves him. When they kiss, she likes it, but it’s not super passionate nor does it brings the same high that the few occasions Jared kissed her. To Ian’s credit he doesn’t really get it at the start, but then is immediately acepting of Wanda’s boundaries. I think he pushes a bit? But this SM so. Sigh. (I like to think in the hands of another author he wouldn’t do the sterotypical male thing but yah)

What I mean is that Stephanie Meyer, without intention, created an ace romance. Sure, it bc really weird biological alien science, but if you take it to mean Melanie is demi and only feels attracted to Jared, that makes her body reactions logical when Wanda also falls in love. She isn’t occupying the body wholly; there’s the host original presence; so she falls romantically but not physically. If I’m saying great idiotices please correct me under; I don’t have any background on sexology or biology.

Sadly, Wanda is also super worried of not being able of correctly loving Ian, so. Negation of ace identity in one, two..., warning to folks sensible to it.

And well, she ruins it when at the end when Wanda is put outside Melanie´s body into one who doesn’t have a human conscience. She explained the others how to take “souls” out of humans without killing any part, and how to take the “souls” to the space ships where they’ll be transported to other worlds. But sometimes the humans have passed so much time suppressed, or have been taken so young, that there isn’t a conscience-anyone to recover.

The Host is very weird, bc this is a race of genocidal colonist aliens who are weird beautiful little ribbons of silver in their original form, who after abandoning their original world by possessing another race who invaded them realised they could live whatever lives they wanted possessing people without dying and just. Went for it. They are a supposedly all peace loving gents, who cured all poverty and illness by their superior technology and like, very comunist-anarchist society. Who abhor violence, but don’t see eliminating other people identity as violence.

They are weird and amazing; when they realise having and raising children as humans costs so much, they start acting as parents to those humans without going to have a soul implanted on their kid, bc they love them as they are. A mess of contradictions, and Wanda is so interesting bc of this.

Sadly, SM acted again, and made Wanda one of the rare females able of auto-destroying to create more fragments of herself (aka other souls). The rest of souls don’t have any gender and chose bodies as whatever sex they like most. Guess Wanda being an alien was fine, but not having an explicit gender was too much, lol. To be fair, she says she prefers female bodies, but doesn’t really mind. Good on Wanda.

There’s a secondary romance too; the search of Ian’s brother, Kyle (who almost kills Wanda once) for his abducted girlfriend, Jodie. Results the soul inside her body, Sunny has all of Jodie’s memories of Kyle and is like, already in love with him. She lets herself be abducted, and when they explain they’re gonna get her out and why, is like, cries and begs, but accepts it bc is Jodie who Kyle loves. She hasn’t ever heard her like Wanda did Melanie, though, so when like a week or two pass and Jodie’s conscience remains dead Kyle consents (bc the other relatives of Jodie are soulified) to bring back Sunny. Wow. What a clusterfuck. They don’t date but there’s this weird vibe where Kyle has stopped hating all souls after Wanda’s mess and his encounter with Sunny, and Sunny herself is like; yay! I can live with humans and Kyle and I’ll keep trying to awake Jodie. And the two of them are described as inseparable?

It’s more intriguing than Twilight; I wished there were more fics interested in exploring cool canon divergences and all. I didn’t dive in the problematiqueTM aspects of the book but come on, this is SM and you have reading comprehension. I just wanted to talk about how interesting is the intersection of sexuality in romance in Wanda’s case >-< Still better than Twilight but I guess the aesthetic of vamps surpases The Host. Which. Valid ok? Each to their own.

#the host #stephanie meyer #wanderer #melanie strider #ian o'shea #jared howe #kyle o'shea #sunlight passing through the ice #or sunny for friends #meta #the host meta

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mha-adore · 4 years ago

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hey! ty sm for doing the matchup exchange with me, i look forward to writing your match! i’m rita and i go by she/her pronouns. i have a preference for men & i’m 16. my quirk would be similar to shinso & inumaki from jjk,, i can control ppl and animals just by saying a command,,, an indicator for when i’m using my quirk would be my eyes changing color & a side effect to using my quirk would be getting light headed.

i’m a libra sun, aquarius moon, & leo rising. a slytherin & intj-t. i’m v polite and reserved when you first meet me. i’m pretty introverted and i have anxiety. it takes me while to open up since it takes me a while to trust ppl. i do tend to get annoyed and angry by others easily,, i’m a bit of a hot head. i’m pretty chill and like joking around once i open up,, i can also be kinda dumb. i’m a bit of a loner and i don’t have many friends. i’m actually a bit of an emotional person but only when it comes to shows, movies, books, etc,, i tend to keep my emotions bottled up. i’m self conscious and self critical. i care a lot about having perfect grades and getting into a good university but i’m so lazy (lots of breaks & procrastination) at the same time,, i end up getting everything done on time though. i’m impatient when it comes to my own things so i like doing things my way bc i feel more comfortable that way. i also like keeping things neat. i’ve also been told i have a resting sad face & that i’m intimidating. i wear a lot of black and i’d describe my style as dark academia mixed with 70s-90s fashion. when i’m at home i just wear comfortable clothing like pajama pants and a t-shirt.

my likes/hobbies/interests are baking, playing the sims, writing, and playing board games with ppl i’m close to. i also like relaxing in bed and spending time with people i’m close to and having fun. i’m interested in psychology, true crime, & history. i don’t like arrogant & closed minded people. i look for a partner who is loyal, kind, & open-minded. my love languages are gifts and quality time (both ways).

i hope this isn’t too much,, ty again! <3

Hey friend, it's my pleasure! Thanks sm for offering 💖

Can I just say super quick that your quirk is really cool? You could command an army of bears, raccoons or fire ants. I would be terrified. Also I'm an Aquarius moon and INTJ too, air moons gotta stay together. I totally got a Libra vibe off you when you first messaged me and you're super sweet 🎀 also I totally get you on the anxiety part, I have anxiety too. I know how terrifying it can be to reach out to new people so please know I'm proud of you for taking the chance to reach out to me 😊 and it's never too much; the more detail the better!

I match you with Shoto!

Say hi to the walking AC and heater unit. A couple reasons I picked him is because you mentioned having anxiety and being hot headed. With his father being, well, himself and his mother being the anxious person she is, Shoto understands both sides of the coin very well and knows how to deal with both parts. He can balance being calm and stern at the same time and he has the patience of a saint. He would give you the time and space you need to grow comfortable around new people and surroundings, as well he would be able to keep you grounded when your temper gets the best of you. He mellows you out. My personal headcanon is that he's a Capricorn sun, Scorpio moon, Virgo rising, Ravenclaw and INFP.

He returns your jokes with dry humor. He can keep a dead serious face while making the stupidest jokes too. He could look you dead in the eye, face straight, and rip a monster fart and not giggle just to see your reaction. Honestly the image of him holding eye contact while aggressively farting is funny in my head. I know I have the humor of a 9 year old.

He isn't bothered by you not having many friends. He's a private person and doesn't want a lot of people up in his business. He prefers few close friends over many distant friends. He knows you aren't stupid and pays no attention to anything you say that may sound dumb. He's heard so much dumb shit he learned to filter it from his brain.

He understands that you're closed off on your emotions. He really can't blame you, he's quite the same. If you get a little teary eyed over a book or movie he'll let you talk it out and cry if you'd like, but he won't push you to be uncomfortably open to him. He values your happiness over his own and doesn't mind you keeping your feelings to yourself. He respects your privacy. Regardless of what you may feel conscious or critical of about yourself he's there to remind you that you're perfect. You're healthy, you're strong and you're doing the best you can. No one could ask any more from you. He's lived a majority of his life feeling outcasted and ignored because of his scar and wouldn't wish the same on anyone, so if there's any part of you that you feel bad about he's always reminding you that you have no imperfections, everything about you makes you one of a kind. You're irreplicable.

He isn't worried about you procrastinating on studying or homework. As long as you get it done and do well enough he isn't concerned. If you ever have difficulty with a subject he's happy to help you study and learn. If you want he can ask Momo to join for a study party if you want the extra help or company. He just wants to see you succeed and get into the college of your cotton candy dreams. Oh and don't worry about your tuition, he has it covered. Don't even mention it to him it'll already be paid off, including books and living arrangements. He only wants you to pay him back by doing your best in school and showing him you can handle the hard work.

He always has a suggestion on ways you can do things but he knows you prefer to do them by yourself, so he'll neber bombard you with his ideas. If you ask for his input he has plenty to give but otherwise he gives you the room to make your own moves. He's a neat freak himself and is always happy to help you keep your room clean and well put together. He has good room decor ideas too if you want to spruce up your room.

He really doesn't see you as intimidating. He sees a confident, independent and strong young woman who can hold her own. He occasionally wonders if you're really sad or if that's just your expression and he'll occasionally ask. He's only making sure you're okay. If you're sad he's on it with a cute or funny movie, some snacks, a shoulder to cry on and a whole night's worth of stuff to talk about.

He likes your sense of fashion, he enjoys darker and warmer colors. He lives for the 80s aesthetic and loves to see you mix the two so effortlessly. He can, wants to and will give you his t shirts to wear at home. He'll also loan you hoodies and sweaters. He won't outright buy you a hoodie, he'll buy one for himself and let you get away with stealing it from him.

He's so soft for home made cookies and would love for you to make him some. Home made dinners are also great. He would love to help you bake and would enjoy baking dates. He'll also watch shows like Hell's Kitchen with you. He isn't exactly a huge gamer but he likes simulation games and RPGs like Sims, Animal Crossing, Pokemon, Harvest Moon etc. He'll binge these games with you all day and night. Your Sims have to get married to each other it's the law. He enjoys reading what you write - what you don't mind sharing of course. He won't go peeking in your personal writing, he knows it isn't his place. Concerning what you do share he'll read it with great interest and share his thoughts and any ideas he has. He would really enjoy writing something with you, like a short story or a comic. He loves how you convey your writing and would be honored to take part in it. His favorite board game is Candy Land, a close second being Monopoly, followed by Scrabble. He pulls out a big ass dictionary during Scrabble just to prove to people that he knows his vocabulary. He loves you dearly but all bets are off during Monopoly, it's a dog eat dog world and he isn't bailing you out of jail. He will, however, offer you real money in turn for properties in the game. No that isn't cheating the rules say nothing about it. He has no problem with a lazy day in bed though and wouldn't mind just dozing or watching shows together. Any time spent with you is time spent well. You two could watch paint dry together and he would have a blast. He'll buy the paint.

With his personal involvment in hero work he has lots of info on true crime cases and can share stories and books with you. He has everything from small robberies to Ted Bundy and beyond. If you have a question about a true crime case he has an answer. As for psychology I imagine he would study it himself, perhaps as a secondary career or freelance hobby. He'll examine characters from books and movies with you and run his own behavioral analysis unit from his bedroom. The FBI doesn't hold a candle to him. He can, will and already has tracked down your enemies and he has their addresses. With his father being the new number one hero he essentially has the force of the law in his hands and if need be, he will use it. He won't do anything unjust unless your safety is in jeopardy but he won't hesitate to bring someone down. As for history he has plenty of books ranging from founding of countries to wars, to major technological advancements to the invention of toilet paper. He knows some very niche history facts. If you need to impress a teacher with knowledge on history he has you covered. He'll make the teacher quit their job in shame.

Shoto is absolutely loyal to the end, open minded and kind to a fault. He understands how it's like to be ignored, misunderstood and bullied and he won't treat anyone else that way. Regardless of his opinion on someone he still gives them respect and kindness. He doesn't care how rude or petty someone acts, they're still a human and deserve to be treated as such.

He goes out of his way to buy you special gifts, he values personal meaning over monetary value. Between a basic cheap necklace and an expensive bracelet of your favorite gemstone and color, you bet he's going for the bracelet. The cost isn't important to him, he just wants to see your face light up when you open the gift. As for gifts from you he doesn't care about how much you spent, he just wants something from the heart. You could give him an origami swan that cost you nothing to make and he would treasure it like a rare antique. As for quality time, he always enjoys a good movie, board game, cuddle session or just a nap. Like I mentioned before, any time spent together is time spent well.

I hope you enjoyed this friend!! 🥀 I'll be sending my part your way soon, thanks again for the offer! I had a lot of fun with this one 😘

#iidastiddies #mha x reader #bnha x reader #matchup #mha matchup #bnha matchup #matchup exchange #shoto #todoroki #shoto todoroki #todoroki shoto #todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader

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imaginejamesandsirius · 4 years ago

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Hello there, I love your Sirius and James, they feel so in Character. I just read the books again and crave everything I can get my hands on and your fics are just what I need :D. Could I pretty please get a getting together one? A little slow burn tossed into if that's possible? I don't really care how they get together but maybe it happens in the summer Sirius runs away? Anyway, thanks for all your fics, the one with James patronus being padfood was read by me like 20 times over. :D Thanks!

James wasn't used to chickening out, but that's exactly what he did. He'd wanted to ask Sirius on a date-- a real date, just the two of them where they could hold hands and maybe Sirius would let James kiss his cheek-- but he'd panicked at the last second and said that they should do some research for a prank.

Instead of the two of them, it was going to be them and also Peter and Remus in the library all night. It didn't sound half-bad, but James had really been hoping that they'd start dating. It would be so much fun! Plus, it would make a good story. Meeting the love of your life when you were eleven and immediately getting together? That was the way great love stories went.

But it would be fine. James could wait a little bit longer. Besides, he had time. So far, Sirius hadn't mentioned wanting to date anyone.

James tried to ask Sirius on a date again. He failed. Again. It would be easier if Sirius said no, instead of James never getting the question out.

In the four years of their friendship-- coming into five years-- James had started ask out Sirius thirty-eight times. He'd thought about asking him on a date far more often, but he'd never managed to get anything out for most of those. Too many to count, honestly. Mostly he ended up staring at Sirius and frowning because he was annoyed with himself, and he would get shaken out of it when someone noticed.

But this time was going to be different. Thirty-nine tries, but this one was going to be the one that he actually managed to get out. He didn't know why he was worrying about it so much anyways. Sirius was his best mate! They were close-- closer than two people had any right to be, if you listened to Moony-- and he was pretty sure that Sirius would say yes. Sirius never looked interested in dating anyone, and he spent all his time with James. This was going to go well; all he had to do was finish asking this time, and it would be great.

It was weird, but not entirely surprising, that this was around the time Wormtail said, "Hey, did you hear that Padfoot has a date tonight?"

"He has a what," James said.

"Yeah. Dorcas Meadows."

James wrinkled his nose. "Didn't she just dye her hair blue?"

"Yes," Moony said, not moving his head from where he was peering so closely at a book, his nose was almost brushing the paper. "I guess Padfoot's into that sort of thing. Either that or he- I dunno, actually likes her and doesn't give a shite what colour her hair is?"

"Did he say that he likes her?" James asked, frowning. He hadn't heard anything. He was Sirius's best friend; information about who he fancied and who he wanted to ask on a date should come to him first instead of from a secondary source.

"He didn't say anything to me about it," Moony said, "but c'mon, it's Padfoot. Since when does he talk to any of us about birds? Or blokes. Or you, for that matter." He finally put some space between his face and the book, but then he was scratching something on his parchment and completely missed the incredulous look James shot him. "You don't talk about dating people either."

"Well that's different, he's already married to Quidditch," Wormtail said with a snort.

How were these people his friends. James was going to replace them as soon as he figured out who he could replace them with.

"We can't expect for him to talk about Quidditch all the time and still have space to fit in who he fancies. If he even has eyes for anything other than a quaffle," Wormtail added, rolling his eyes.

New friends. Immediately. He got up and left, hoping that they would think about being a little bit nicer to their friends who were only planning for the future, but the reality was that they barely noticed him going. He needed to find Sirius and ask him about this, anyways. He was in the first place James checked-- the dormitory. "Padfoot, the hell?"

"What? I took off my shoes first."

He thought James was upset about him being on his bed. As if. Although he really had taken off his shoes, which James appreciated. "Not that. Dorcas."

"What about Dorcas?"

"Wormtail said you have a date with her. Tonight."

"Yeah, so?"

"You didn't tell me."

Sirius blinked up at him. "Why would I?"

"I'm your best mate! We're supposed to talk about dates. And who you fancy. And all that other rot."

"Oh," Sirius said, looking back down at his nails-- which apparently, he was busy painting red. "It's not like I fancy her; it's just a date."

"Why would you go on date with someone you don't fancy?"

There was an awkward pause, followed by a very unconvincing, "I dunno."

James gaped at him. "Excuse me?" Sirius was lying to him? That was not on.

"It's not a big deal," he said, looking back up at James. "She asked, and I figured that I didn't have anything else to do tonight, so I said yes. Besides, Dorcas is cool."

She was, but it was so not the point. "Yeah. Fine, whatever."

"Why are you being weird?"

"I'm not weird, this is just how I am."

"Right," Sirius said slowly, successfully conveying how little he believed that excuse.

"Er, are you punishing yourself or summat?" James asked. He didn't want to think that that's what was happening, but what other reason would Sirius have for not moving out of the drizzle? Nutter didn't even have a jacket on.

He got to his feet and shuffled inside, breezing past James in the doorway. "Don't be stupid," Sirius muttered.

James frowned a little but didn't push it. Sirius had been different ever since he ran away. There were details he wasn't sharing; some of them were fine, but others were effecting him. James didn't think that he'd be able to fix it, but it would do Sirius good to talk about it and have someone listen. In theory. In practice, he didn't know what Sirius was keeping back, so he couldn't judge it for sure.

He didn't know how to help him. He had no idea how to deal with what Sirius had been through, so he alternated between acting like nothing had happened and smothering him with hugs any time he felt sad-- James, that is, not Sirius; he could never tell when Sirius was sad these days. Acting normal right now would mean going and pestering Sirius into helping him on some of the set-up for the Marauders' Map, but he didn't really feel like doing that right now. He kind of wanted to wrap his arms around Sirius and not let go for a couple minutes, but Sirius was probably changing right now.

James's feet took him to the kitchen, and he realised that hot cocoa would be the absolute best thing right now. Maybe not for Sirius, but he didn't know how to help Sirius right now anyways, so he might as well do something that was going to make him feel better. He did grab the marshmallows from the cupboard even though he didn't like them, because he knew that Sirius did. Most people liked mini-marshmallows in their hot cocoa, but Sirius liked two full size ones dropped right in. James didn't know why, but what Sirius liked, Sirius was damn well going to get.

He was just about to put the marshmallows in Sirius's mug when he heard his name being called. "Kitchen!" he yelled back. He picked up the mugs and brought them over to the table.

"You made cocoa?" Sirius said, a touch disbelieving.

"Yes. Drink up."

"Erm. Okay," Sirius muttered. He sat heavily in one of the chairs around the table and wrapped his hands around the mug, pulling it towards himself with a small hunch to his shoulders like he was afraid it would be taken from him. "You put marshmallows in it."

"Yeah."

"I thought you said it was weird."

"It is, but that's no reason for you not to have it," James said, taking a sip and burning his tongue. He felt like he should be better at temperature control by now, but he always ended up with his tea and hot cocoa being too damn hot. Sirius was smarter, so he blew on it before tilting it towards his mouth.

James couldn't decide if the longing in him was for seeing Sirius comfortable, or if it was because he wanted to kiss him. Either way, he couldn't act on it. Not now. Before, he'd been too scared to ask Sirius out, but now... now he didn't need to add to Sirius's stress. Whether he said yes or no, it would make his life more difficult. That was fine when all they were doing was worrying about school, but Sirius had an entire family that now wanted nothing to do with him. It wasn't the right time for James to start talking about dating and being in love and shite.

It wasn't the middle of the night, but it was earlier than James had planned on waking up. He had no bloody idea what Sirius was doing awake at five in the morning, but he woke up when Sirius crawled into bed with him. He didn't get under the covers, so it's not that it was a nightmare. He just laid on top of the duvet and curled up with a pillow.

"Whatcha doin' up?" James muttered.

"Go back to sleep," Sirius whispered.

"'m already up." He was still tired, but he could tell that he wasn't going to get back to sleep. "What's goin' on?"

"Nothing. I... didn't want to be alone. Couldn't stop thinking."

James rubbed his hands over his face to wake himself up a little more. "How would me being asleep help you stop thinking?"

"I don't know," Sirius said quietly. "You always help."

"James, why don't you date?" Sirius asked out of the blue one afternoon over lunch.

"Huh?"

"You never date anyone."

"You only started dating last year," James said defensively.

"Right, but you never talk about it."

"Neither do you. You never fancied anyone, and sometimes you'd disappear for a date without saying anything."

"That's because it never went anywhere. It's not like I was in love with any of them; it was just some fun."

"So why are you allowed to not be interested in anyone but I'm not? I don't want to date people I'm not interested in. That's all there is to it."

"I never said I wasn't interested in someone," Sirius muttered, casting his eyes down at the table.

"Then ask them on a date and stop pestering me," James grumbled. Hearing that Sirius did-- in fact-- fancy someone, wasn't exactly improving his mood.

"...James?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you go on a date with me?"

James tried to look at him so quickly that his elbow slipped off the table, and he nearly fell into his plate face first. "Yes. What? Yes. No take-back's," James said shoving a finger in his face.

Sirius went a little cross-eyed trying to keep sight of his hand, then leaned back a little. "I'm not going to date you if you poke my eye out."

"I would never!" James said, puffing up indignantly as he drew his hand back.

"Well not on purpose, no."

"Not ever." James narrowed his eyes at Sirius. "You'd better not be joking."

"Why would I be joking?"

"I dunno, but I've been trying to ask you out for like five years so I'm not taking any chances."

"Five years? Really?" Sirius asked.

"I will shove the rest of this sandwich in your face if you mock me."

Sirius held up his hands in surrender, but there was no tamping down on the smile spreading across his face.

#prongsfoot #marauders #fanfic #james potter #sirius black #filled #no voldemort au #getting together #hogwarts time #siriuslystarbucks #Anonymous

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ohnobjyx · 4 years ago

Text

A snow storm out of nowhere

Part Two: March

In this post we continue to go through XZ’s situation, to better understand why he is where he is now. The ask that originated everything is here, with an index.

Disclaimer: I try to keep the content objective, but I am biased, by the kind of content I’m usually exposed to and by my own perception of their situation. I may be wrong, and language barriers and cultural differences have to be taken into account. If anyone wants to discuss this, please make sure you have enough information to do so.

I think that even with all the “darkness” this post has, it express also quite nicely why I think XZ won’t be defeated by this. We will see him again, let’s be patient.

So, taking from Part One, the next day public thought that XZ’s Studio and his team were trying to hush all the commotion. People were very very furious, looking for a way to vent their anger. Some said that the only way they’d let this go was that XZ retired from the entertainment industry.

Attacking his endorsements

That night, Olay was to air a live video with a product that XZ was going to endorse, and antis realized that they had a new way to express their anger. The comments and their interventions during the event made it impossible to progress adequately, and the announcement of XZ endorsing the product had to be put off.

Antis and haters realized the power they had, and started to announce that didn’t just reject the products endorsed by XZ, they also rejected the brands that worked with him. In the face of such controversy and boycott, many brands chose another spoke person temporarily for their commercials and banners, removing XZ’s from their websites.

From March, the antis centered themselves around the topic “Not buying products XZ endorses”, making his value go downwards. The brands he worked with decided to stay low for the time being and removed his image from their websites. Some even decided to terminate their contracts with him, in fear of being boycotted.

Douban

By the 3rd day ao3 was down, reality sank in and people turned to douban, were C/QL, The Joy of Life, Jade Dynasty were in the top 3, all of them series were XZ is lead actor or secondary actor. The antis placed bad reviews, to the point of bringing down the score of C/QL from 8’5 to 7’9 in a single day (we’re talking here of 1′5 million reviews as of today) and affecting every project he has worked on since the beginning of his career as an actor.

Public scorn

XZ as well as XZ fans became the objective of public scorn. From the 1st of March, some of the accusers apologized for “the problems caused”, and the one that had led the report posted a public apology and deleted every post related to the reporting. However, to the rest of the users it looked like they were apologizing against their will, and that they still thought they weren’t wrong, but were doing so in an effort to preserve XZ’s public image, as well as their own image as XZ’s fans.

The conflict ceased between XZ’s fans and the cp fans, now uniting in an effort to lesser the damage. They agreed to bring down the tone of the discussion, and once things cooled down a bit, XZ Studio posted a public apology, asking people to support their idol rationally, to speak and act carefully, as well as saying that XZ was currently quarantined at home.

Antis brought up more complaints about XZ’s fans. Unfortunately, it’s a fact that some of his fans had taken sometimes unreasonable measures to give him the spotlight, such as:

Making him the center of attention in a tv drama in which another actor was the male lead. They took over the community in w/ibo and started to delete all of the other actor’s fans from the group.

Some fans attacked WYB, so XZ wouldn’t have to “divide” his success from C/QL with him. They reported WYB for not having a “host degree” (whatever that is). This was shot down by a statement from Hunan TV, by the way.

Attacking whoever says that they don’t have any interest in XZ’s works (a professor was asked to have a look at his works, and he refused, so XZ’s stans started to attack him).

(Again, bear in mind that antis and hater and these kind of very obssesive fans are a minority, and they are greatly outnumbered by the rest of the people that like and support XZ in a much more rational way... but they make more noise, so to say).

Antis and people resenting XZ for the 2/27 incident wanted a scapegoat. So I think the resentful party wants the fans to know “so you take away this, I want your idol to pay for it” and antis… they have their own agenda, and that’s for another post.

XZ Studio’s apology didn’t do much and the drama continued to unfold. Maybe XZ’s Studio wanted to wait for the storm to pass, and since acknowledging the issue would give it importance, they waited until they couldn’t put it off anymore. I don’t know if this was actually right or wrong, but people weren’t satisfied with this apology. XZ’s fans would try to argue with the antis, and thus keeping the image of obsessive fans, even if many of them were actually right.

People were disappointed by the actions taken by his team and waiting for him to say something, but, to their disappointment, XZ didn’t express his opinion.

Other authors

Fanfiction writers, mostly from the BJYX fandom, would receive insults and attacks from antis and XZ’s stans still pursuing their original stance, so a lot of content has disappeared.

(To this point: I don’t like RPS. I don’t read RPS fanfics. I didn’t like seeing them and adjusted the filters in ao3 so I could only see fanfics from CQL. But attacking the authors this way is also terribly wrong).

Responsibility and consequences

XZ had previously signed up with many companies, with WJJW being the main stockholder. Since he was under so many companies, none of them wanted to take responsibility of the matter and try to solve it, so it was left to XZ’s Studio to try and fix it.

Investors, directors, brands’ representatives... they all thought that it’d take at least half a year for XZ to recover from this blow, and it also depends greatly on how his next work is received by the general public. He still has the support from his fans, but that alone wasn’t enough in the face of such boycott.

While later people who supported him appeared, there were voices at first too that asked him to take responsibility.

(These are influential people, and, while I’m not surprised that their stance was to support public opinion, as a public figure, you may find yourself in the future in the same position as XZ. To add oil to flames doesn’t seem very kind to me, but again, this is a competitive industry.)

Support

At the same time people criticized him and his studio for his management of the issue, prominent people stepped forward and talked in his behalf, like critics, directors, and even lawyers, talking about the legal aspect of the fanfiction, saying that, by Chinese laws, it was indeed violating the law.

(However, there was another article I agreed more with: not liking a content doesn’t give you the right to manage it. That’s the duty and right of the platform, in this case ao3. You may report the author and the work if you find it unsuitable for the platform, but to call the authorities on them is quite excessive).

It was also positive that in spite of everything, the sales of the products he endorsed remained high and in the lead in March, and the trend continued all the way to July. He’s still considered one of the most influential celebrities, taking usually the top 1. This is why his companies, agencies and his team hasn’t given up on him. As sad as it may sound, if he’s a profitable asset, they won’t give up on him, because he can still earn money for them.

Since the antis were spreading hate, rumours and false news, trying to damage XZ’s image, the fans also tried for the contrary. They posted about XZ’s kindness and polite gestures, to try to counter the antis’ attacks.

However, no matter how much his fans support him, the greatest help came from fellow acquaintances, coworkers and friends from the entertainment industry. It’s a reality that no matter how much a fan likes their idol, the average fan doesn’t know him personally. But that can’t be said of people who have worked with him.

People he had worked with (fellow actresses, critics, directors, screenwriters) supported him by posting comments defending and praising him, expressing their dismay about the antis or by praising him in livestream. For well-known people to step up and speak for him, when they could have stayed silent in fear of retaliation, it’s a true give away of XZ’s character and what these people think of his future, especially if we consider that they are facing a group of unreasonable antis.

(In fact, many of the people who supported him received hateful comments and were attacked for supporting him, but none of them took away their support, that I know of).

Happy Camp’s support

It was also a good sign that while brands still avoided his image, tv programs didn’t shy away from his image. Happy Camp emitted a video in which XZ appeared, so fans interpreted this as a sign of silent support from the program and the tv channel.

This was also very important. There have been cases before, when an actor was being seriously boycotted because he had been having an affair, that the tv stations refused to work with him. It got to the point that, when a episode had already been filmed, they used photoshop to erase his image and simply cut out all of his interventions and interactions with other participants .

See that space there, between the girl in blue and the guy with a suit? Such are the miracles of photoshop.

So if an actor has really committed a mistake, the entertainment industry will not hesitate to take away their support. It’s also a way to say that they disapprove of what that person did.

(To those who are curious, this man had been a very successful actor for many years. He was “happily” married and had a 20 years old son. But when people discovered that he had been keeping a mistress for almost two decades... he fell out of favor. Quick.)

XZ’s very brief appearance in Happy Camp was an auspicious sign for his future, meaning that tv stations are still willing to work with him and that his dramas will likely be aired in spite of everything.

(I’ve never been happier to wrong, since I thought this would take longer to pass at first. But when I thought about this carefully, I realized that anyone could see that XZ in himself isn’t at fault for what happened, so why would they reject him once the storm passes?).

The start of the public welfare project

So, in the midst of this situation, which was very serious at the time, XZ’s fans Public Welfare Group was founded, with the support of XZ’s Studio.

(This is actually quite common in China. A group of fans create a welfare group, and they do volunteering projects and others in the name of their idol. Many celebrities’ fans create a group like this when the fandom is big enough.)

I think it served to remind that idols can use their influence and unite a large group of people to serve purposes that are beneficial to the society (at least in Asia). It came in a “good” moment, because if nothing else, XZ can’t afford that the first that comes to mind to the general public when they see him or his fans is this small group of people, who are the representation of the worst part of his fans.

(Since this project has the support of his studio, he must know of it and must have given his approval. But he is not the one to actually initiate the project, that was a collective effort from his fans: to do welfare projects in his name. He collaborates with welfare projects, he had done it before, and did it again in June. This a reflection of a more positive part of fan quan culture, which will be explained in the next post).

However, because he was in the middle of great controversy and criticism, this move was also considered “hypocritical” and “insincere” by the antis. Nonetheless, the influence such a large group of people have is undeniable (in promoting local commerce in this case), and the local representatives thanked them for their support. They kept on with their projects these months, usually promoting agricultural products from impoverished provinces. They were also praised by the media for the results they achieved.

For those who are inclined to doubt whether this was a move to improve his image, here it’s a compilation of charity and public welfare projects that XZ’s fans pushed forward in 2019, collecting for numerous projects an amount of almost 450.000¥ and 620.000¥ as epidemic relief effort during the coronavirus period, that started in December 2019.

The welfare project was also a source of controversy later... but again, people always seem to find fault with everything you do.

#gg's situation #part 2 of 7 #my post

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capsized-heart · 5 years ago

Text

Lady Liberty and The Captain / Part One

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader (1940′s Brooklyn AU)

Summary: You are a rising young star and the newest breakout actress in Hollywood’s Golden Age! When war finally descends on the west, your reputation as America’s Sweetheart finds you cast in a promotional picture alongside Captain America himself.

Yet, he looks eerily familiar, like your Stevie from childhood…

Word count: 4.7k+

Warnings: fluff!!

A/N: hello, everyone!!!! I hope you’re staying home, warm, and safe during these crazy times. I’ve been snuggling with my doggie and continuing with my university’s online classes in my final semester..absolutely crazy how things are rn. I hope this new story can help brighten up your day just a little bit.

First of all, I just want to say thank you💖💛for all the love that old and new readers alike have shown this blog recently. I’ve been writing on this platform for a little less than a year and I never thought l’incendie would blow up as much as it has. You guys are amazing. I’m really excited and eager to share new pieces and hope you enjoy the content I have coming! Please don’t hesitate to pop in and say hi, or shoot me a message. I’ve really enjoyed connecting with readers and would love to know your thoughts on my fics, or just to talk about fandom stuff! Timmy included! PAHAHA

So, this chapter is gonna be a part of a mini-series for a 1940′s writing challenge and I’m using the prompt of wartime romance! This will probably be split into two or three parts and I will tag the host as soon as the last chapter goes up, I’ll most likely make a masterlist in the end as well. Reader has a name in this fic, but hopefully the choice of name will make sense later on :D

As always, feel free to drop a ask/message if you’d like a tag in the next update.

ENJOY!

THE NEW YORK TIMES

Film: ‘Apple of Discord’, Lola Swanson’s Dazzling Debut!

By NICHOLAS WATTS September 1, 1943

----------

The film drama from the original screenplay written and directed by Andrew Campbell opened to a roar of applause and acclaim at the Radio City Music Hall yesterday evening. Apple of Discord is a reimagining of the myth and Plato’s allegory, focusing on the tumultuous, profoundly elegant life of a young noblewoman during the Trojan wars.

The film’s frontrunner and leading lady is Hollywood newcomer, young and fresh-faced Lola Swanson. Swanson’s performance is so thoughtful, so unfaltering, so intelligent and controlled that it is hard to believe this is little Lola’s long awaited motion picture debut. And what a debut this is!

Starring opposite Hollywood veterans Sean Schultz, Kash Dennis, and Gracie Smith, this star-studded cast packs punches and sizzling chemistry and yet, Swanson does not fizzle out but confidently holds her own, demanding your attention in every scene, and rightfully so. Watching Swanson in this picture is watching a major actress in the making.

Born and raised in the heart of Hell’s Kitchen before moving to Brooklyn to pursue acting, some may recognize Lola from her daytime television roles in Insanity and Passion, It’s a Date! and as Jessica in Jessica Davis Returns.

Now we know these roles were preparing Swanson for the debut of the decade.

“APPLE OF DISCORD” is now showing at the Radio City Music Hall and Cinema 2. Tickets at 25 cents. Running time: 139 minutes.

★★★★☆

——

APPLE OF DISCORD, written and directed by Andrew Campbell; director of photography, Laszlo Kovacs; edited by John Wright; music by John Barry; released by Universal Pictures.

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The newspaper trembles hard between your fingers, threatening to tear its edges. Pulse pounding, ears ringing. You can’t stop smiling. You feel like crying.

You reread the words again and again, the words written by legendary film critic Nicholas Watts, the man you’ve only dreamed of making an impression on, that he’d someday see you in a picture. And here he’s written a glowing review of your major motion picture debut.

You erupt in a fit of giggles and screams, twirling around the small space of your apartment in a swirl of nightgown, pinned curls. A neighbor, Mr. Krisinski, you think, pounds on your wall to shut you up.

It’s still early morning and you had gone downstairs at first light to buy a paper from a newsboy. Outside your window, the streets of New York already yawn and bustle with morning commute. The movement of people, gleaming automobiles against the red brick buildings and muted gray of Manhattan. Warm sun washes over it all, your heart brimming and full, mirroring the glow of golden dawn.

You feel on top of the world. Maybe you’ll finally make it here.

Your phone rings. You rush over to the mint blue rotary telephone on your bedside table, snatch up the receiver before Mr. Krisinski can break down your door with all the racket you’re making.

“Hello?” You say into the mouthpiece, cradling it between your hands. You feel breathless, high strung and buzzing, like you’d just downed a whole case of Coca-Cola, whirring with the taste of sugar and success, bubbling with starpower. Maybe it’s Kash or Gracie calling to congratulate you. Hell, maybe even President Roosevelt.

“Lola! It’s me. Have you read the paper?” The cool voice of Peggy asks you through the receiver. You quietly laugh at your own fantastical expectations. Of course it’s Peggy. Punctual, collected Peggy.

Peggy Carter is your talent agent and manager at MGM. Peggy had snatched you up while you had been working as a background actress on Michael Curtiz’s Casablanca, so hopeful and beholden just to be in the presence of such respected artists, willing to stay the extra hours even after the other girls had gone home when realizing they wouldn’t be seen in the shot. It hadn’t been your first time on a hot set, you were used to the itchy costumes, long hours of endless waiting, and the empty stomachs, but no way you were going to miss a chance to see Ingrid Bergman and Madeleine LeBeau up close.

Back then, only a few years ago yet a lifetime away it seems, Peggy had been a casting assistant, seeing your dedication and marching right up to you between takes to hand you her card. On the back, written in smooth blue ink, a time the next morning for an audition at MGM Studios in downtown New York. Eight o'clock sharp.

You didn’t sleep at all that night after you wrapped.

She’s worked at getting you into audition rooms and meetings for years, pushing you onto writers, production assistants, riggers, directors. She had secured you an audition with Andrew Campbell after “accidentally” leaving your headshot in his mailroom and later calling his assistant with threats of stolen property. MGM’s new fresh face had been penciled in for a side read the following week.

Fierce, ingenious, and your own bright star, you’ve risen through the ranks and fought your way up with Peggy at your side.

“Yeah, Peg. I have it here in front of me. This is...absolutely nuts.”

“Not really, you were brilliant in the picture, darling. But it’s a comfort to know Watts has finally replaced that cotton in his brain with some sense.”

Another laugh from you, twirling the telephone cord around your finger.

“Let me have this one, Peg.”

“If you insist.”

You hear the rustling of newspaper from the other end. You can practically see Peggy sitting at her desk, perusing the paper over a morning cup of coffee, her hair curled, makeup and nails all scarlet red and perfect. The golden placard glittering on the frosted glass of the door.

Margaret Carter, Casting Director.

“I’m calling to tell you about an offer we received this morning from Paramount. I think you should take it.”

That rush of giddiness burns bright again in your veins, pulse skyrocketing.

“Paramount? Geez, what did they say?”

“They want you for a promotional picture that’s being produced by Senator Brandt. Brandt is hoping to boost the homefront’s war bond sales with a little starpower from you and from Captain America. You’ve seen his posters, haven’t you? That costumed bloke?”

You have. Plastered everywhere and looking like an absolute buffoon. Nice physique, though.

The disappointment that settles in your stomach is ugly and cold, like a fruitless pit, hard, rough, a sour taste in your mouth. It’s stupidly childish, yet your own expectations for your first movie, first box office hit, for that very first taste of the promised fame and fortune of success, begin to blink out. Expectations you’ve held on to since you were a little girl, since you realized this is the type of work you want to do for the rest of your life.

You’ve managed to impress Nicholas Watts, the most cynical film critic in all of Hollywood, and this is your big break? A Paramount picture featuring you and a tights-wearing mascot?

Peggy is practically asking you to star alongside Mickey Mouse.

“Is that all they offered?” You respond. You wince at the demanding, ungrateful tone. Afterall, showbiz has hardened you to go after what you want, to take and take because this lifestyle does not guarantee anything. You’re told no more than you are yes, the constant rejection having molded you into a diamond tough girl, glitzy and solid, unbreakable, beautiful.

But how many girls would kill to be in your place?

“The only sensible deal. They also offered you the role of Violet for It’s a Wonderful Life, and Ruthie in The Grapes of Wrath.”

“What?! Peggy, contract me for those instead!”

“Well, I’m not going to. And you listen well as to why.”

You twist your lips together. Peggy’s voice filters clipped and disapproving through the phone line, the way she always gets before she offers you damned good advice.

“Not just Watts is impressed with your work, Lola. You’re finally turning heads and for all good reasons. Anyone can get in front of a camera if they have the right look. But you’ve shown them that you have the look and the raw talent. Critics are saying you’re rivaling Judy Garland, darling. And you’re telling me you want the part of a lousy love interest? A secondary daughter? All because the pictures have big names behind them and people may go see it?

“No,” you mumble.

“No is right. You know better than anyone that people expect young stars to burn out fast so they can take their place. It’s all business. If I put you in for those roles, we’d be playing right into their hand. We’d use up all your potential in one summer. The public would get sick of seeing your face in every big picture. We have to earn their affection, darling. It’s slow and tame and not always glamorous, but this deal is smart.”

You listen, silently.

“Morale is low. War is when people turn to familiar pastimes and simple pleasures. To treat themselves, to take their minds off all the grizzly headlines. Captain America embodies all of that and more. If we take this, I promise you, Lola, that people will remember you as the girl who got them through the darkest times. This will do wonders for your career years down the line. And then, if you still want to play Violet, I’ll phone Frank Capra myself.”

You close your eyes and draw in a breath, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“Well, it looks like I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“Wonderful. I’ll phone Paramount now. We’ll be in touch.”

Growing up with poor Irish immigrants for parents, the rare moments you could afford to splurge on luxuries, you spent them at local cinemas and theaters with your brother. Any day was a good one when you and Samuel bought tickets for a noon screening, the cheapest showing of the day, scraping together pocket change to split a popcorn if you were feeling extra special.

And reclining in a nearly empty theater with refreshments and goodies between the two of you, you’d watch the silver screen with hope in your mouth and stars in your eyes. In here, it no longer mattered how little money you had, or the discrimination your family faced, or the war in Europe, or the meager apartment you’d go home to, lucky if the electricity and heating had been paid for. In here, nothing else mattered but the visual stories.

And you realized that you wanted to help tell them. You wanted to be in front of the cameras, to embody characters and personas and let audiences worldwide empathize and identify with your performances.

You’ve loved playing make-believe since you were a little girl, having never really grown out of it. You could do it, you think. Dangerous dreams, perhaps, but what child doesn’t hold this wish within them? To see their name in lights and to be admired and commended, but most of all, to provide for their family?

How hard could it be?

At sixteen, you land your first speaking role. It’s pathetic. You’re working on set as background, per usual, only this time, the director picks you out from the crowd and gives you the line of, “Good morning, sir.” You’re to look off camera as the actor playing Kent entered the scene and you would then say your line.

You’re stupidly excited. Three simple words. You’ll be uncredited, of course, but your face would finally be seen! With butterflies fluttering in your stomach, the scene resets, Kent takes his mark, the cameras roll, and you deliver.

The scene is cut from the final reel.

You pound the pavement. You scour newspapers and flyers for casting calls, you phone agencies and playhouses, you save up to get your picture taken on glossy photo paper. You keep looking. You keep working in background until you can land a steady role.

Then, you finally get one. A miniscule part of a friendly neighborhood girl on a TV drama for CBS. You only have mere minutes of screen time, but the checks that arrive in the mail from Columbia Broadcasting System after your first few episodes air say otherwise.

You open a savings account. You plant your paychecks and watch them grow into a comfortable sum of money. You land another guest starring role for a daytime soap, the secretary of the title character. Combined with your parents’ salaries from your mother’s sewing and your father’s work on the railroads, you become the main breadwinner.

You move your family out of Hell’s Kitchen, out of your cramped, dark apartment. You sign a new lease under your new stage name and move to Brooklyn together.

Brooklyn is slightly cleaner, but the familiar hustle and bustle, the noise of shopkeepers and dialects and children and cars is comforting, grounds you in your roots. When your CBS drama wraps months later with your last check in the mail and you’re looking for your next gig, your brother works odd jobs to help shoulder the burden. Brick laying, chimney sweeping, milk and mail delivering, Samuel becomes no stranger to any and all work, so long as it pays. You become a typist on the side as you wait for auditions and callbacks.

Samuel tells you his aspirations to be a poet, a writer. He hasn’t said a word to your parents, but he shows you the small bound notebook he carries with him, leafing through pages of prose and verse. You encourage him to submit his work to newspapers, publishers. He gives you a shy smile, says he’ll consider it as soon as you get your motion picture debut. You shake on it. Together, your already close bond of brother and sister grows stronger as you each work to support your art.

You’re waiting for Samuel to finish his shift so you can catch a late showing of His Girl Friday, a warm September day when you first meet Bucky Barnes down at the wharfs. He’s tall, lean, and glistening with sweat when he rounds out of the warehouse with an armful of crates and nearly knocks you off the pier.

“Hey, watch it!” he snaps. His eyes flash like the water around you, blue and cold and dangerous. Brown locks curl with perspiration against his forehead, the sleeves of his workshirt rolled up over his shoulders, the exposed skin of his throat and arms flushed and tan.

Embarrassed, you try to steady him, to which he growls in annoyance and spins out of your reach. He makes a great show of bearing the weight himself, grumbling as he sets down his load. You don’t miss the way the muscles in his back flex and dip. It isn’t until he slowly stands back up, wiping his palms on his khakis, that you get a good look at each other.

The hostility in his eyes softens ever so slightly, simmering into a look that cinches your chest tight when his gaze travels shamelessly up from your kitten heels to the curves of your lips and cheek. His breathing is still labored as he surveys you and you can feel heat and color blooming against your skin. When his eyes finally settle on your face, you can’t decide whether you want to slap or kiss him.

“You lost or something, honey?” He asks with a whisper of a smile. He strolls in a lazy half-circle in front of you and moves to go back up the ramp to the warehouse. Then, he pauses and turns back to you.

“Have we met before? I swear I recognize you from somewhere.”

This delights you deliciously, that a handsome young man you’ve met by chance has seen your work. Not glamorous, acclaimed roles by any means, but recognition nonetheless. You bite the inside of your lip to suppress your smile and give him a coy, bashful flutter of your eyelashes.

“If that were the case, I’m sure I’d remember you.”

He grins wolfishly, pleased, and takes a step closer. “Yeah? Think you’ll let me take you out for dinner tonight?”

“She’s got plans with me, Buck.” Samuel’s voice carries across the water. Your brother emerges with wooden boxes and sets them between you and Bucky in a huff, as if he’s implementing a physical barrier, both childish and endearing. Bucky glances at you and Samuel.

“Are you two..?”

“Steady? No. She’s my sister.”

Bucky snorts and his eyes find you again, glittering in the evening light. “You never told me you had a sister, Sammy. And such a looker too..”

“Makes you wonder why I never brought her up,” retorts Samuel and gives him a playful shove, traps him briefly in a headlock. “At least Steve wouldn’t ogle.”

“Stevie would get a nose bleed and pass out.” You hear Bucky grunt back. Samuel moves as if to dump him into the drink and Bucky pinwheels, scrambling. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it!”

Satisfied, Samuel releases him and socks him in the shoulder for good measure. Bucky stumbles, looking boyish and smooth despite his shirt and hair all disheveled.

You’ve seen his type in casting offices all across New York; bold, alluring, and charismatic. It’s a look and type you’ve longed to act opposite of someday, as all young starlets dream of, but a look that simultaneously sparks the feminine temptation that shivers between your breasts. You wonder if Bucky would look the same in a dark bedroom, with him on top of you and your fingers running over his back…

Bucky grins toothily when he catches you staring and shoots you a wink. None of those movie star hopefuls hold a candle now to his rugged, spirited charm.

Samuel guides you back up the pier so he can punch out his time card and the two of you can be on your way. And as you’re about to set foot on solid ground, you hear Bucky call out to you.

“What’s your name, honey?”

Samuel sighs and shakes his head. “Cripes.” He mutters to himself. Before Samuel can stop you, you laugh and turn back to the water with a fresh and girlish aire, warmth and excitement whispering through your veins, young and naive and sixteen.

“Dolores!” You give him your full name, your real name. For once, you don’t want to be Lola Sparks. You want to be your natural, honest self, the girl who deserves young love and joy and an untroubled adolescence. The sound of your voice rings clear and strong, the diva that you are, and Bucky’s mouth curves upwards.

“See you ‘round, Dot.”

Much to Samuel’s displeasure, you tail your big brother around the docks like a lost pup whenever you have time. And being a C-list actress and a part-time typist, you have plenty of it. You loiter with the excuse of bringing sack lunches, waiting on Samuel and Bucky at the edge of the warehouses. It’s lonesome and bores you to no end being all by yourself, until one afternoon when someone is already waiting at your spot by the pier.

Small, skinny as his own shadow with a fringe of blonde hair, he leans hunkered and folded within himself, timid and seemingly conscious of how he occupies space. His jacket droops over his shoulders, eyes downcast even as you approach. He has a sketchbook in his hands, concentrated as the pencil moves across the page in fast, gentle strokes. You see an impressive likeness of the piers and Bucky’s distant figure in charcoaled lines.

“That’s really something.” You say.

He jolts so hard the paper tears and he crumples it into his fist in a single motion. “Huh?” he answers. When he looks to you, you realize his eyes are a pretty shade of teal. He flushes, petrified, the tips of his ears coloring pink. You feel horrible when he goes to pocket the ball of paper.

“I’m so sorry for scaring you,” you breathe. Gently, you offer your palm to him. “If you’re not keeping it, do you mind if I have it?” You ask softly. A few seconds pass and he shakes his head before placing it in your hand. You unfurl the paper, carefully smooth it out as he watches you from the corner of his eye.

Shyness is a barrier of art you’ve known all too well, from your own experiences in audition rooms to your brother’s reluctance to find a publisher, you understand that sting of insecurity better than anyone. So, you let him watch you as you admire his work, let him know of his talent and let your actions speak for you. You smile and slip the drawing into your purse.

Then, his stomach grumbles audibly, almost comically loud. He folds his arms around his stomach, so tight you’re afraid he’ll snap in half. You quickly reach into one of your paper bags and hand him a sandwich wrapped in cellophane and a can of lemonade.

“Here, let’s trade.”

“That’s awfully kind of you, but I can’t accept..” he starts. The timbre of his voice is surprisingly gallant and sure, pleasant, sweet. You have a gut feeling that the world has been taking advantage of that kindness his whole life, scaring him away from genuine compassion, that everything must have a catch. It makes you press harder.

“I insist. Please. It’s the least I can do for sneaking up on you.” He eyes you warily and again that feeling of regret washes over you. “Consider it payment.” You smile.

Finally, he takes Samuel’s lunch from you and unwraps the sandwich. He eats quickly and quietly, draining the lemonade only minutes later. Perhaps it’s his bony statue, but you feel happy to see this stranger eat.

When he’s finished, he wipes his mouth and turns to you. His lips, pretty, pink, part as if about to speak, yet no words leave him. Instead, he stands frozen with that transfixing blue-green gaze keeping you still, lingering.

That is until a stream of brilliant scarlet red dribbles down his chin and splatters onto his dress shirt. He pinches his nose, doubling forward and his flustered complexion matching the blood spilling from his nostrils.

“You must be Steve,” You laugh lightly and quickly hand him your handkerchief of cream yellow lace and embroidered flowers. You help steady him as he keeps his head tilted down. “Bucky’s told me all about you.”

Steve groans and presses the handkerchief to his face, blushing all the way down to his neck.

Steve returns your handkerchief days later with an embarrassed hush, carefully cleaned and laundered. It smells of lavender and clean linen and the image of him working the fabric between his thin fingers with soap and suds warms your heart.

You tell him it’s his. He blooms and keeps it neatly folded in his breast pocket.

You and Steve quickly grow close in the hours you spend together waiting on Bucky and Samuel. You pack extra lunches for him and sit by the piers chatting, skipping stones as Steve sketches the Brooklyn skyline day in and day out.

“Draw me!” you tease. “Isn’t that the request that all artists want to hear?”

But surprisingly, he does. He always draws you and Bucky and Samuel with striking, intimate familiarity. His sketchbook gradually fills with portraits and pictures of you, sketches that could put your very headshot to shame.

After their usual shifts, the four of you head to the drugstore for your ritual of sodas and sundaes. Two pairs, brother and sister and brothers by blood enjoying a rare wartime treat. With the rations on sugar, it’s a special and memorable circumstance just to be together and sharing something sweet.

It’s there, at your corner booth in Wolfe’s Pharmacy over ice cream, that Bucky opens up a paper for that night’s television network schedule and sees your name.

His eyebrows shoot up. “Dot,” he says. “What do others call you?”

Defeated, you twist your lips, hesitant to break the short spell of normalcy you’ve had with your new friends. Samuel sips at his Coke with a silent grin.

Time for the truth to come out.

“Well, ‘doll’, by Stevie,” you giggle and toe Steve’s foot under the table. Steve shyly shrinks back into his seat. “But CBS calls me Lola.”

Bucky’s jaw drops.

“Get out of here. You’re pulling my leg..”

“I absolutely am not.”

“Sammy, tell me she’s pulling my leg.”

“She’s not.”

Two pairs of brilliant blue eyes dart between you and your brother. Bucky’s face breaks into an open smile, laughing. Steve lurches forward.

“Have you ever met anyone famous?” Steve prods with a hint of that honest, innocent charm.

You wrinkle your nose sheepishly. “Mason Cook?”

“Who?” Bucky asks around a mouthful of sundae.

“Exactly.” Samuel snorts.

“Well, I’m sure he’s very talented.” Says Steve.

You swipe his maraschino cherry and let the stem dangle between your lips. “At least Stevie believes in me.”

“Dot, honey. I saw your pilot episode. If anyone’s a fan, it’s me.” Bucky feigns hurt, hand to his chest.

You stick out your bottom lip before sucking in the stem, working it into a tight knot in your mouth. “Are you still gonna be when your girl is signing autographs with John Wayne?”

You place the knotted stem on your napkin. Bucky nearly chokes.

“I better be.”

Samuel coughs. Steve giggles.

You thank your stars that your secret doesn’t change anything between Steve and Bucky. They treat you just the same; as Samuel’s baby sister who tags along with the boys. The teasing, the fleeting looks all unchanging.

Girls, you’ve unfortunately realized, are catty and mean. You’re competing for roles, after all. But with Bucky and Steve, your first taste of homecoming since moving to Brooklyn, you don’t have to worry about silly competition, or fame, or being the best in the room. They keep you level-headed, reminding you of your girlhood and life’s simple pleasures.

Bucky drives you and Steve around town in the company truck on weekends. Hopscotch and jacks on brick roads and warm nights, watching sunsets until the sky blushes peach and mango yellow at Coney Island.

A Saturday afternoon on Rockaway Beach, a vacation for you all after a draining week of work and auditions when Bucky promises to win you a stuffed bear when he sees you eyeing the one on careful display.

“Buck..Bucky, give it a rest, we can try the next one.” Steve chides.

Another plastic ring pings off the neck of a glass bottle. Bucky curses, rings his hands together and slaps another dollar onto the counter.

You and Steve trade looks. Bucky’s been at it for ten minutes. At this rate, you know you’ll be walking on the train tracks home tonight.

So, you and Steve huddle close and cheer him on. Do it for our doll! says Steve. Finish it so you’ll stop wasting money, you dolt! you cry. Hell, even the vendor finds it humorous and joins in.

And when Bucky wins that grand prize and you’re handed a teddy bear as big as Stevie, you hoist it on your back, careful to not let it touch gravel or dust as the three of you walk in line with the train tracks later that evening.

Paradise, a sheltered haven from the broken landscapes and realities that the European newsreels broadcast home in grim black and white.

True to Bucky’s word, they become your biggest supporters, helping you run lines and monologues and accompanying you to auditions. Bucky’s not bad for a scene partner, and Steve’s awareness of emotion and character motivation is impressive.

The attention you receive from casting directors and auditionees doesn’t hurt your chances either, lanky Steve and smoldering Bucky wishing you luck before stepping into the green room.

You book a drama. Then, a short film. Then another. You call them your lucky charms.

And when your humble little short film “premiers” at the corner cinema, squeezed in between an empty noon showing of a cartoon rerun, Steve and Bucky whoop and holler when your character is shown on screen. They throw popcorn and gumdrops, jostle you by the shoulders. Bucky even runs down the aisle and mimes kissing the projector screen.

“That’s our girl! That’s our Dot!”

The usher threatens to throw you out. Steve tells him you’ve paid good money for your tickets and you’ll stay and watch as long as you please.

The following week, you’re scouted by Peggy Carter.

Your world, your career will never be the same.

#steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #captain america x reader #captain america x female reader #captain america x you #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x female reader #winter soldier x you #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #bucky barnes imagine

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cruddyborderlandstheories · 4 years ago

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this DLC has me FUCKED UP and i keep screaming

spoilers for Bounty of Blood under the cut, keep reading at ur own peril. Also some Guardian Takedown spoilers for anyone who hasn’t beat it yet

tl;dr: a comparison between something taken from BL2 and a thing taken from Bounty of Blood. more spoilery tl;dr below the cut.

also the siren thing is not spoilers so i’ll share it here for anyone curious, it’s just this: siren tattoos are blue but when lily absorbs eridium in 2, they turn pinkish/purple. just like how vaults do from bl1 to bl2. they’re white/blue in bl1, then purple-pink in bl2 (and tps), y’know, after Eridium begins erupting from the ground. just a neat little detail i noticed that im not entirely sure was intentional but im gonna believe it is.

tl;dr: Gythian Blood = Core and the Ruiner is of Eridian Origin even tho everyone in the DLC likes to say it was created with Jakobs’ bioengineering. disclaimer: idk if I’ve found every hidden ECHO so I may be missing a few things but I have done every side quest and took ample screenshots of all important dialogue in the DLC : )

“man i just sat here for like 15 minutes staring at my keyboard mentally comparing core and eridium like the dumb bitch i am.

it's not like we can do an actual comparison because we have no idea what the natural fauna of gehenna was like before jakobs came and mutated everything with core unlike pandora where we know what skags and rakk and shit were like BEFORE the eridium crust erupted.

altho!!! there's a neat comparison between joey ultraviolet and rose. like obviously he wasn't getting tattoos and was just doing lines of crushed up eridium but the point stands they both have glowy eyes and unique powers so i don't necessarily think this means rose is a siren just because she has magic powers especially when we know she got the whistling passed down to her from her grandmother.

especially because we've never seen a siren interact with core before. altho that leaves the question we have seen core tattoos now what are eridium tattoos like? actually rose's tattoos were on her right arm obviously she isn't a siren as we know them right now (I saw a post on reddit where people thought rose was a siren)

of course that brings up the point perhaps siren tattoos ARE eridium tattoos. but then we hear the general's log about how the devil riders were tattooing a man with core and blood so obviously they're not ‘naturally’ occurring unlike siren tattoos. so odds are they're probably not equivalents but something interesting i thought of while thinking about this is how well siren tattoos compare to the Vaults from borderlands 1 and borderlands 2″

anyway. this is all ive been thinking about. yes yes i know guardian takedown post but! >:( im still salty even tho this update has been lovely (outside of Blane not getting his correct damage scaling ‘till today......). so i’ll do that at my own damn pace. now let me elaborate so i can sleep at night lmao

Eridium

refinement produces slag, which weakens people and can mutate things

has mutating properties, mostly with imbuing elements into shit- possibly causes insanity

seems to be connected to another dimension, likely the one the Eridians are from

Core

has a secondary form of Infused Core

has mutating properties, mostly regarding a thing’s body and mind

apparently radioactive

there are some things i wanna note

1) People throughout the DLC say the Ruiner was created by the Jakobs corp (the company) thru bio-engineering but I’m 99% sure that’s not true. The paperwork seems to me like they found the egg somewhere on Gehenna and decided to roll and experiment with it like all corporations do when they find weird alien shit. so maybe they experimented with whatever was inside the egg, but I don’t think they actually created it entirely

“Excavated from [REDACTED] ... Local legends speaks of a [REDACTED]. This theory is not endorsed by our research personnel.

2) The Ruiner’s design reminds me a lot of the Warrior.

3) Core immediately reminded me of Gythian Blood from Guns Love and Tentacles and I don’t think that’s coincidence to have 2 back-to-back DLCs where the big bad is focused on green death juice. I think Gythian Blood and Core are of the same stuffs.

4) Therefore, I think the Ruiner is (mostly) of Eridian origin (if you haven’t already guessed).

This gives us an amazing look into how the Eridians actually create their beasts!!! And I’m so happy they showed us this.

(side note, Interitus Regina (the long name for Ruiner) literally means Destruction Queen and I think that’s beautiful <3)

i mean the idea that they plunge them from orbit to create an explosion similar to a nuke is fucking horrifying (but holy shit I love it so much ahhh it’s so cool!!!!)

the one side line from Oletta about how the company couldn’t control the Ruiner deffo makes me double down on this theory. I’m not entirely sure how Rose’s grandma knew about the whistling (I don’t think I’ve found every echo log in that area YET), but I would bet it was part of the testing given how many fuckin’ tape players they have throughout the facility. The Warrior was controlled by verbal commands via Jack, so it’s possible that the Ruiner was intended to be controlled similarly, but Jakobs intervention (or something like the way Rose hatched it) fucked it up.

now we know the Warrior was created to protect the Vault of the Destroyer (hmm.) so what the heck was the Ruiner created for? Ruiner is a name given to it by Jakobs/the people of Gehenna so we can’t really assume, but then again the monster names are pretty apt in this series even tho they probably technically shouldn’t be.

it was only an egg, so maybe it was another test of Core? A Vault Monster incubating until it was ready to protecc and attacc but was never hatched because the Eridians ‘sacrificed’ themselves before it could? (I’m still not convinced the Eridians are the good guys. Listen. LISTEN. The guardian takedown is something to think about, BUT it doesn’t disprove that theory and I’ll stand by it because I 100% trust the Overseer more than bitchpants mcgee over here who thinks he’s soooo special for no reason fuck you and your dumb ‘I did what the Watcher could not’ bull you haven’t done shit.) ok sorry im done he just angers me. stupid guardian man. your whip is stupid and you should feel bad. oh also I totally called us actually being Guardians thru Guardian Rank before the game came out aha yeah.

I definitely think Gythian was a test/use of Core from the Eridians. We see in Bounty of Blood that core seems to mutate more the physical (and occasionally mental) parts of people, like with the crew challenges u do for Juno with all the weird hybrid people and whatnot. Gythian had the whole ‘the heart still beats’ thing going on (which is definitely a physical mutation if i’ve ever seen one), plus the whole, you know, mind control and shit. Which is p similar to what the menta gnats can do when charged with Infused Core. And keep in mind in BLaT we see DAHL notes on what happens to test subjects when injected with Gythian Blood. They mutated physically and went insane.

What im saying is Sirens and Eridium and Elements are connected, so what does Core equal? body/mind sure but are there unique creatures for core (yes holy shit I’m not talking about h2o au for once and FINALLY they gave us a canon name for the green stuff!!!). If not, I’d love to see a Siren interact with Core to see what it does to them. seriously why hasn’t tannis interrupted us yet. horrible excuse for a science lover (kidding kidding, I love her). I’d also really love a fuller rundown on what the hell Rose’s powers were. Because the whistling thing seemed to just be her grandma’s thingie passed down to her from her mom

but the core stuff

her gun seems to be infused with it. So did her sword thing. I didn’t really get a good look at it i was too busy trying to see thru my blurry tears of LOVE for this DLC.

Strangely while her tattoos are (mostly) green I actually don’t know if they’re core infused bc look at this

n look back at hers. hers aren’t very lime.

anyway

her eyes

I’d love to know if the core gives her immediate future sight or just increased perception or reaction times. there’s a huge difference but she seemed to be able to shoot the gun outta the sheriff’s hand near immediately and it seems kinda implied its because of the core (or at least because her eyes are glowing green)

there’s a possibility she has some unique core powers/possibly implants because of her relations to the project in the first place, or as leader of the devil riders after looting the facility. it’s really hard to say without more info and like i said im not sure if i missed an ECHO or two or not regarding her backstory :(

Her hair is also green which I just noticed. Maybe she has core powers bc her grandmother got suuuuuuuuper irradiated/influenced working on project horizons and it passed down thru her n Rose’s mom, to Rose. Tannis does have a line about Sirens having unique hair colors and, if Sirens are linked to Eridium, perhaps those linked to Core also have unique hair color. Could also explain why only Rose seems to have those whistling powers. That said we don’t really see anyone else trying that whistling thing out afaik and idk if it was, like, a special ability or a certain tone/ditty or w h a t.

i know being vague with everything gives them more creative freedom to create amazing characters and scenarios, but dammit I want A N S W E R S.

All THAT said man I’m so glad magic is real in the borderlands universe. oh, sorry, “magic”. It’s magic. Science it, tannis, I dare you. either way, I win. Either it’s magic and H2O AU is canon, or it’s science and I finally get my goddamn answers. Hey gearbox can you make a book just explaining all the science and eridian stuff. please. I’d love you forever. please. pleaheheheheaaasseee it’s all i’ve ever wanted.

oh also can i just say, suuuper disappointed we didn’t learn anything about anshin. Really wish non-fan favorite corporations would get the spotlight/lore for once. Like, I like Jakobs as much as the next guy, and I get WHY they did it (can’t have a corporation looking too good!!!) but they now have 3 DLCs (Jakobs Cove, GLaT, and Bounty of Blood) and also a hefty chunk of the main game. Like... we all know Jakobs fuckin sucks, look at what they did on Pandora. I really just want info on a medical corporation 😭 I have to do everything my damn s e l f. but SERIOUSLY IMAGINE the possibilities that could come from a medical corp getting its hands on eridian tech. like, yeah obviously the weapons corps are gonna use it for weaponry and stuff BUT WOULDN’T THE MEDICAL CORPS MUTATING PEOPLE MAKE MORE SENSE??? ldfhgldfshg I have to do everything my damn self...

anyway all that aside, this is definitely by favorite borderlands dlc by a LONG shot. Nothing comes close. Ahhh the lore, the nuclear aspect, the a e s t h e t i c (seriously, have I mentioned how much I adore Trigun???), the art, the music, the cryoslinger, the fact I can bust out going beeEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAans like Ray Chase at any time and it will MAKE SENSE. I love all of it.

oh, also, Rose is totally not dead. C’mon, they couldn’t find her body. She pulled a Lilith. “Are you sure she didn’t just suffer a wound that LOOKS fatal, only for her to come back in a blockbuster sequel...?” is a line from mr Jones himself (the movie guy)

I just hope when she comes back she gets to meet Captain Scarlett. I’d love to watch their interactions plus pirates and or ninjas. That’s 2 DLC villains now that have vanished without a trace. And I like Captain Scarlett way more than Rose (seriously I spent the entire beginning of the DLC complaining about how her voice bothered me- I was so happy she was a villain, I was hoping that was the case).

oh yeah, reminder, the people of vestige were living next to highly radioactive egg for likely years. i feel really bad for them :(

also!!!

this made me smile

#im tired #good night #bl3 #borderlands #borderlands spoilers #spoilers #bl3 spoilers #borderlands 3 spoilers #bounty of blood #bounty of blood spoilers #dlc3 #dlc3 spoilers #dlc 3 #dlc 3 spoilers #i don't want to spoil anybody please lemme know if there's any tags i missed!!!!

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sapphoshands · 4 years ago

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my request just came through on the yuletide pinch hit list, SAD FACE, so i thought i would resort to shameless pouting and say hey, if anyone wants to write a treat for any of the below fandoms and characters

the old guard (comics) - andy and noriko

wonder woman (comics) - diana and barbara ann minerva

birds of prey and the fantabulous emancipation of one harley quinn - helena bertinelli and renee montoya

...well, just in case, my letter is below the cut and my ao3 is kathryne. :)

Yay, Yuletide! As always, I am requesting stories about a bunch of women, and I am excited that you're going to write me one! I can't wait to see what you come up with. If you have a story in mind already, then please run with it, but if you want some ideas, I have many. ;) I am kathryne at AO3. do not want I do not want to read: rape; explicit abuse; animal abuse or death; self-harm; kid!fic. I am okay with violence in service to the story; I am okay with canon-typical violence (because boy there is a lot in some of these canons!). I'm also not interested in complete AUs (ie, coffee-shop-type AUs). I do enjoy AUs where one thing in canon is changed and we explore the ramifications of it. I’m not a big fan of the heteronormative assumption that there’s only one way to progress a relationship and anyone in a relationship must necessarily want co-habitation and homeownership and marriage and children. In fact, I’m really not interested in stories about child-rearing, though dealing with adult children already established in canon can be interesting. do want I love stories about women relying on each other. I like seeing moments in fic that give deeper meaning to moments we see on screen. I like porn; I like gen; I like ratings in between. I strongly prefer more developed stories rather than shorter vignettes strung together on a theme. I like happy endings, but I don't need one - sad and/or melancholy works just as well, but I'd prefer something that's not entirely hopeless. If you feel like going for some good old tropes, some of my favourites include: bedsharing; road trips; huddling for warmth; mutual pining that gets resolved. The Old Guard (comics) - Andy, Noriko I'm most interested in a post-vol 2 story about Andy and Noriko. Spoilers, but: Andy is so broken down at the end of vol 2! It's such a huge contrast to the way we've already seen her. How does she cope with being back with Noriko? How does Noriko cope with an Andy who's so different from her past self - or has Andy gone through a period like this before? Is Noriko reluctantly drawn to caring for Andy like this, or is she just doubly angry about it? This is not going to be a healthy relationship regardless, so feel free to lean into the darkness here. This is where you might bump up against my 'explicit abuse' DNW, especially in a post-vol 2 scenario. I get that. I would prefer not to see explicit sexual abuse or dubcon. If you don't want to write post-canon, I am also very open to an Andy/Noriko historical fic! I would love to read about the adventures they had throughout the ages. We know canonically that the team do split up and come back together sometimes - I'd love to read Andy and Noriko reconnecting after some time apart, maybe telling each other tall tales of what they got up to... Wonder Woman (comics) - Diana, Barbara Ann Minerva Please consider this an OR rather than an AND request. You can write about the characters together or apart. I am a long long long-time Wonder Woman fan, so honestly you could write something set in any era, but I am assuming it's most likely going to be the current comics, which is great. Because, omg, Barbara Ann Minerva is an incredible queer angst-fest and I adore her. Rucka's re-launch really made it clear just how tragic her story is - she starts out so genuinely full of wonder, and then she's so rudely tricked by Urzkartaga, and she suffers so much. I would love to read almost anything off-panel about her: more about her search for the Amazons, more about her struggles with Urzkartaga, more about the early days with Diana (and Etta). I'd love to read about what might happen if Barbara did find Themyscira. I love that despite the friends-to-enemies core of their relationship, neither she nor Diana have ever really let go of the 'friends' part, and it keeps tripping Barbara up. If you don't want to write about Barbara, I've really been enjoying some of the supernatural elements of Diana lately, so something exploring that would be cool (Circe, maybe?). (This could also involve Barbara, of course, but if you want an out.) Please feel free to write this as a friendship or more. Or less - if you want to give me a moment where they're as far from being friends as they've ever been and it's horribly sad, I would love that too. Birds of Prey and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn - Helena, Renee I will admit to being a fan of this in the comics and wanting to explore how it plays out in the film, but if you don't know the comics at all that is TOTALLY FINE. I just want to see the two of them interact more. Helena is so awkward and Renee is so dorkily enthusiastic. What can they teach each other? What edges do they rub off each other? How do their coping methods interact? Renee clearly knows all about the Bertinelli Massacre - how does that influence how she acts around Helena? Helena needs new mentorship in crimefighting now that she's killed all the people on her hit list - how does Renee work with her? How do they decide on their snazzy crimefighting costumes (leather kink, sure)? Do they and Dinah all live together someplace bought with Bertinelli money (omg they were roommates)? I would love to read Renee/Helena, but Renee&Helena is great too. Also please feel free to include the other Birds as secondary characters. I can't wait to read whatever you'll write. Thank you so much!

#yuletide #the old guard #wonder woman #birds of prey

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taylorroger-s · 5 years ago

Text

heartsick.

a/n my first (kinda) deaky fic!! IT’S A LOVE TRIANGLE LADS!!! i just kinda needed to write this? it has been a work in progress since february and i haven’t found the push to finish it until recently when i looked through my google docs and started finishing some wips. this is wild as hell man. kinda sad i cut it off right before THAT japan trip tho… part two anyone??

masterlist here!

people who asked to be tagged: @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @johndeaconsgf @cowparsleys

warnings : angst, curse words, some partying, briefest suggestion of infidelity, the whole shebang. 9.1k words baby

enjoy :)

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john had always loved your smile. the way your eyes crinkled at the edges and your dimples showed. the hint of white teeth behind your plush lips. he would walk heaven and earth just to make you happy.

now you were smiling that beautiful smile, but it wasn’t for him. it was for your newly minted fiancé.

you had met john the first day of secondary school. you were placed in the same french class, seated diagonal to him. the first time you heard his voice was about an hour into the lesson when the teacher said something you couldn’t remember, and deaky muttered a dirty comment. you snorted out of laughter, drawing his attention. when your eyes met his, john knew he was a goner.

from that day onward, the two of you were ingrained in each other’s lives. from birthdays to holidays, sickness and health, he was there for you as you were for him. it took it an almost ridiculous amount of time for him to realize his feelings for you.

the kicker was that he couldn’t tell if you felt the same. you were almost inhumanly hard to read, with a devilish grin and sharp wit. you treated most with the same cool attitude, same suave confidence that drove him insane. it didn’t help that you were also devastatingly attractive.

every time you showed interest in him his heart would race and cheeks flush, stumbling over his words to find a response somehow as witty as you. you were unafraid of eye contact, able to make deaky crazy with just a smirk and eyebrow raise.

for years, john had convinced himself that you were harboring feelings for him just as he was for you. it might have been true, you were always quite affectionate towards him and particular, giving you an unproportional amount of attention when around other people. but sometimes that would flip, and you would ignore him all together for hours. that didn’t stop him from twisting each bit of witty banter into a sign that you were in to him. only you knew your true feelings, but that didn’t stop deaky from speculating. from what he could tell, you were also horribly oblivious and most likely didn’t have a single inkling of his feelings.

despite this, your friendship was still good and sincere. john could put away his feelings to keep that alive, tiptoeing around the idea of being something more.

through either a strain of luck or misfortune you ended up going to the same university, growing even closer through shared classes and drunken nights. by then, deaky’s feelings had only intensified, while yours stayed a closely guarded secret. who knows? maybe you did have feelings for him. you sure as hell wouldn’t admit anything, and neither would john. so the two of you stayed in that limbo for ages.

until john joined queen. your world and, by association, his flipped upside down because of a certain blond haired drummer.

his first official queen gig. july 2nd, 1971. it was a college gig in surrey, and the first time deaky introduced you to his bandmates. he had joined the band in february of that year, but hadn’t let you meet his new bandmates quite yet. when the day finally came, you dressed up much more than you would for a typical rock concert. when you rolled up to deaky’s flat, john swore that his jaw hit the floor.

distressed leather jacket and tight black skinny jeans, with a low cut, patterned tank top. you wore high heeled, stained white combat books and silver stud earrings. your smoked out eyeliner just added to your addicting mystique, as did your blood red lipstick. compared to you, deaky looked like a broke college student, which he was. you looked even more like a rockstar than he did. john could barely believe his luck when you ran up and gave him a big hug, confessing how excited you were for him. it assured deaky that you were still his.

right?

you chatted excitedly during the ride about one of your various passions while he stayed quiet. it wasn’t like he was bored, quite the opposite actually. deaky could listen to you talk for hours and hours. he adored the way your voice changed pitch as you got more excited, the way you acted out your thoughts animatedly with your hands, and that goddamn smile you would offer him after pausing for breath. your eyes would show that rare glimmer of emotion. and it was all for him.

once you reached the venue, john was having second thoughts. he didn’t want to share you with everyone, which he was embarrassed to admit. he knew that the magnetic nature of his bandmates would draw you away from him, which was almost debilitatingly terrifying. he wouldn’t be able to stand growing apart from you. so he devised a small scheme to hold off the inevitable.

“hey y/n? how about you stay out here. i can meet you backstage after. i think it would be better to experience it from the crowd.” your face fell slightly. you were excited to be part of the behind the scenes experience of a rock band, it was one of the few things you had yet to do. but you understood his concern. it made your heart flutter just a bit. you gave him a quick embrace and kiss on the cheek before going off to find some alcohol.

he breathed a sigh of relief as he watched you weave your way in between the crowd. he still had you to himself, even if it was just until the end of the gig. shoving down his feelings, deaky made his way to the backstage space where his bandmates were lounging around, going through their pre-show rituals.

roger was sitting on a drum case, a cigarette hanging precariously from his lips. his thin fingers tapped away on his thighs, cycling through the drum patterns he had memorized. brian sipped from a half empty beer bottle, eyes trained on the ceiling. freddie was hunched over a mirror, fluffing his hair with a frown on his face.

freddie turned to john, looking at his outfit with lips twisted in a look of disapproval. freddie was dressed quite extravagantly, while deaky had opted for a simple t-shirt and jeans.

“dear god deaky, what are you wearing?” john frowned, looking down at his outfit and then back up to freddie.

“uhh, clothes?”

“oh no, that won’t do.” he shook his shoulder length curls, waving a black nailed hand at deaky’s gig attire.

“please tell me why it won’t.”

“it’s so… plain. we’re queen for god’s sake! we have to look the part!” freddie waved his hands dramatically, showing off his tight leather jumpsuit, one leg in white and the other in black. his dark eyes were lined with smoky eyeliner, making his strong features pop even more. deaky just had his hair brushed, wearing a ‘the who’ shirt and bell bottoms.

john had to admit, he looked quite plain compared to the rest of the band. brian was wearing a sequined black top with batwing sleeves, and tight leather trousers. roger opted for an open floral blazer, with zebra stripe patterned trousers for no discernible reason. john looked more like a concert goer than a rockstar. but he wasn’t about to back down.

“i’m alright with the plain then.”

“one day… i will change your mind, mark my words.” freddie said with a mischievous grin. john just rolled his eyes, trying to suppress a smile. though he had only been a part of the group for a few months, they already felt like brothers to him.

deaky walked over to his bass, resting it on his lap. he absentmindedly plucked away to a random beat, letting the music cycle through him and calm him down. his eyes fluttered shut. he fell back on a memory to soothe his nerves. he thought of you, sitting with your head on his shoulder as he strummed softly on his bass. he could almost feel your hair tickling his cheek as you shifted to sit up and look at him.

“that’s beautiful.” you had said, toying with the ends of deaky’s long hair. your chin was rested on his shoulder, nose just barely touching his jawline.

“think it has potential.” your closeness drowned out any rational thought he could scrape up, but each brush of your skin against his brought him back to earth. you were a drug that sent him reeling with his head in the clouds, heart pounding at every sly look and smile. he was far, far gone for you.

“that’s some grade a bullshit john.” you pulled his hand from the bass and laced your fingers with his, tracing small circles on the back of his palm. that was his favorite memory of you. you were so relaxed and peaceful, which made him feel the same. it was always the last thing he thought of before he ever had to confront a crowd.

“you alright deaks?” roger asked, pulling john back from his memory into the gritty reality of the cramped backstage in that tiny pub. he nodded, taking off the strap of the bass and resting it against the arm of his chair. roger offered him his cigarette and deaky gave him a gracious smile, taking a long drag before blowing the smoke out through his mouth and nose. after a couple more puffs, they got the signal that it was time. john took one last pull before stubbing the cigarette out and picking up his bass. here goes nothing.

the small main room was packed, people standing shoulder to shoulder to watch them play. it was flat out electrifying. they cheered raucously as brian strummed the opening note of liar, freddie joining with vocals not long after. john scrunched his eyebrows in concentration during his solo, skilled fingers rapidly plucking away at the four strings of his bass guitar. after his part ended, he looked up, searching the crowd for you.

after just a moment, he caught a glimpse of you near the center of the crowd, dancing and singing along wildly. your face almost immediately brightened when you caught him watching, and you shot him a bright smile with some enthusiastic thumbs up. it made john’s heart swell, and he returned your smile. soon freddie’s iconic line “mama i’m gonna be your slave” and deaky rushed to his side to sing the “all day long” line.

every time he sang, he locked eyes with you, which gave him just enough confidence to sing in front of the crowd, especially since he had always considered himself a bad singer. you had always vehemently disagreed, saying that you absolutely loved john’s singing voice, but he couldn’t really tell if you were humoring him or not. for the record, you weren’t.

but only one song later, when john had nothing to play, he looked back at you, hoping to see you smile one more time. but you weren’t focused on him. you were focused on the drummer right behind him. deaky whipped his head around, stomach twisting when he saw the look in roger’s eyes. one that he had seen during practices whenever he would bring along a groupie. a lustful, dangerous look now aimed entirely at you from across the cramped stage, you being barely close enough for roger to see you with full clarity (he had atrocious eyesight). and you seemed to be returning his coy smile, even grinning and breaking his gaze when roger gave you a cheeky wink. john was so busy looking between the two of you that he almost missed his cue. this was going to be a long evening.

the rest of the show passed in a blur, one filled with sly glances and flirtatious gestures from across the room. but they weren’t for john, on the contrary. they were all for roger, who you were basically eye-fucking from the crowd. and he was certainly enjoying it. deaky was decidedly not. he could feel the regret pooling in his gut. you were just too irresistible to deny, and when you begged to go to his first gig, he couldn’t say no.

but now you were completely enamored by that blond casanova, one of john’s closest friends. that was when he knew that it was the beginning of the end. he could feel you slipping through his fingers. and it was absolutely terrifying. you had been by his side for so long, that a world without you next to him was unfathomable.

after the show, you came straight to deaky, almost jumping into his arms. he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in, placing a hand on the back of your head to hold you close. that was the same position you had been in after your highschool boyfriend broke your heart, or when your grandma died. deaky had held you close and let you weep into his jacket, whispering soothing words.

“deaks! you did so amazing!” you pulled back a little, placing a hand on his cheek. he melted into your touch, consciously aware of the goofy grin he must be sporting. you had such an intoxicating effect on him.

“i’m very proud of you, don’t you forget it.” your thumb slowly moved back and forth across the skin of his cheek, leaving a trail of warmth in your wake. john pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around your back. he wanted to drink in that moment for as long as possible. but he felt you start to back up, and he knew exactly why. because over his shoulder came a cloud of cigarette smoke and expensive shampoo fragrance, and john let you go, even though it felt like you were being ripped away instead.

roger clapped john on the back, startling him. deaky looked over his shoulder and saw roger looking you up and down with a dangerous look in his eyes. he glanced between the two of you for a few moments, heart rate steadily increasing as time went on.

“you must be y/n, i’m roger, the drummer.” he took your hand, raised it to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the back of your palm. you were frozen in shock for a moment before responding.

“nice to meet you roger.”

“so you’re not a myth?”

“what’s that’s supposed to mean hm?”

“well, john always talks about you like you are some sort of goddess. we didn’t believe him for a long while, but now that you’re standing here? he certainly wasn’t exaggerating.” roger looked you up and down, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue. you smiled, genuinely smiled at his words. john had never seen you so instantly smitten. roger had you, you of all people, in the palm of his hand.

“well aren’t you a flatterer.” you gave him a sly smile, giving roger a quick once over and a cocky eyebrow raise. deaky felt his heart crack just a little more. the two of you were so charismatic and confident that it was almost unfair. two people that bewitching should be forbidden from flirting with each other, in john’s opinion.

“only with gorgeous women.” john’s stomach flipped and churned, and he felt lightheaded. seeing you so clearly enamored with his best friend sent deaky reeling. he and roger had always had a special connection being the two youngest members of queen. they were extremely close, and roger was john’s best friend second only to you. john couldn’t imagine having both you and roger separate from him. it would break his heart.

while deaky was silently spiraling, roger had taken a step closer to you, nudging john just a little bit further away. as if he was no longer inhabiting his body, john took another step back, though every cell in his body was screaming to take you by the hand and head to his flat for one of your impromptu movie nights. but it was too late, even though john had yet to accept it.

after a few more minutes of lip bites and silver-tongued words, freddie waltzed over, announced there was an after party at the nearby pub, and pulled john to his side for the walk, leaving you next to roger. the door swung open as the small posse walked out, high on post-show adrenaline. john was standing in front of you, harnessing all of his willpower that wasn’t swept away by the cool summer night to not look over his shoulder, because he knew he wouldn’t like what he saw.

from what he could hear over freddie’s rapid story about some debaucherous party in his uni days, you and roger were pulling each other in ever so slightly as the seconds passed. every time he heard your airy laughter deaky could practically see the gorgeous smile that would adorn your features, the way your eyes would crinkle at the edges as the conversation drew on.

soon enough, they reached the pub, all primed and ready to get drunk in celebration of their first queen gig together. that would surely take the edge off of john’s steadily growing headache at roger and yours closeness. when he turned around, what he saw made him want to down at least three tequila shots to purge it from his mind.

you were bundled up in roger’s plush fur coat, despite the mild temperature. his arm was slung dangerously low across your back, nimble fingers tracing circles along your hip bone as you strode through the pub’s creaky wooden doors. you were laughing at something he said, a painted nail trailing down his chest. it was almost like no one was in the room.

what really hurt deaky’s heart was your myriad of traditions the two of you shared on every night out ever since his eighteenth birthday, that you had decided to ignore. one shot of cheap tequila, then a gin and tonic for the both of you. but while john was walking toward you with two shot glasses in hand, you were leaning into roger heavily while he whispered something in your ear, a glass of whiskey and a cigarette in one of his hands, the other on your thigh.

before you could see the hurt in his eyes, john turned, downed the shots, and walked towards the dance floor, determined to forget your awe-struck eyes as you looked up at roger. and it was just his luck that the song playing was “how deep is your love” one of your’s and deaky’s favorite songs to dance together. yet by some cruel twist of fate, he was alone, shuffling to the beat while stealing brief glances at you whenever possible.

two gin and tonics later, he had nearly forgotten about you and roger just across the bar as he bobbed his head to the music, sipping his drink every now and then. he was so distracted by the music that he barely noticed a tug on his long wavy hair, a habit you had picked up to draw his attention since he was a good few inches taller than you. it was clear to see you were a little tipsy by how heavily you were leaning against the bar, one hand gripping deaky’s bicep.

“deaks, i’m gonna head. it was a long night, and i really need some… rest. but i can’t tell you enough how proud i am of you okay? you are an amazing best friend and i am so happy for you. good night johnny-boy.” your words were a little too airy for his liking, and as he bid you goodbye, he could see why.

wrapped in rogers fur coat, you smiled as the drummer whispered something in your ear. john nearly dropped his drink, but instead stood back and stared as you left the bar under roger's spell. he could feel you slipping away, into the embrace of his best friend and bandmate.

that was the beginning of the end.

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“whatcha thinkin bout deaks?”

“huh?” john mumbled, eyes closed as your fingers slipped in between his wavy hair, forming a long braid against his back. he always loved when you played with his hair. it calmed him down immensely, which was desperately needed. he had tried to ignore that you were at queen’s recording sessions more often than not, cooly ignoring him- or at least in john’s mind - in favor of watching roger.

he could only hold on to the sick, twisted hope that you would see roger’s youthful promiscuity and let him go, sending things back to how it was before. but john was kidding himself. it felt like he had been from the start.

“you seem a little… distracted,” you mused, resting your head on his shoulder as your gaze shifted to the quiet tv program inching by on your beat up box telly. there was a stillness in the air, sharp and cool, sticking to your skin.

“‘m busy, that’s all. band is getting more popular, starting ideas for an album,” he murmured after a minute or two, placing his head against yours as an olive branch to break the alien tension surrounding the room. john couldn’t get the image of you in roger’s coat from his eyes, a smile he knew so well etched on your lips.

“that’s amazing john. i am not kidding when i say queen might be the greatest band ever conceived.” he just laughed, nudging your shoulder playfully. the same old pattern reborn once more.

“even more than the bee gees? marvin gaye?”

“okay, maybe not gaye,”

“you wound me, love.” you just smiled, slowly untangling yourself from the pile of blankets, tip-toeing over to the record player tucked in your bookshelf. john shifted to watch as you flipped through the impressive vinyl collection filling the empty shelves. you quickly turned once the needle was gently placed on your chosen song, holding out a hand to deaky with an eyebrow raised. after a few seconds, the song started playing, and john matched your soft smile.

listen baby, ain’t no mountain high

ain’t no valley low, ain’t no river wide enough baby

he pulled you gently into his arms, with one hand in the center of your back, the other gripping yours so tightly as if he was holding on for dear life. you either didn’t notice his desperate hold or declined to mention it. you just kept on whispering the words, slowly swaying back and forth to the relaxed beginning of the song.

‘cause baby there ain’t no mountain high enough

ain’t no valley low enough

john drew back, twirling you along with the rising tempo. your smile only grew, growing more goofy as your dancing continued. he could barely register the music, focused solely on the feel of your warm hand against his, the sweet scent you carried everywhere you went. you giggled at his dance moves, mirroring the exaggerated slow dance

ain’t no river wide enough

to keep me from getting to you babe

without warning, john dipped you, fingers intertwined. a beat passed as he simply looked at you, eyes scanning your face hungrily as if he would never see you again. you were so close, his warm breath tickled your cheek. your heart skipped a beat, and he could only hold tight as the song spiraled to its end. you cleared your throat and flicked your gaze from him to the record player. getting the hint, he slowly, deliberately lifted you back up onto steady feet.

deaky watched as you hurried to the record player. he could feel his stomach drop to his feet at your quick change in posture. did he make a mistake? did he overstep his boundaries? with each hypothetical his doubt and anxiety rose, rooted to one spot, incapable of moving while your back was turned. you cleared your throat, head lifting with you still facing the records.

“you should…”

“yeah, see you later then?”

“goodnight johnny-boy”

“goodnight”

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deaky was on his knees in the crowded backstage, various screws and wires around him as his deft fingers worked on adjusting his amp, making sure that everything was just right for the last show of their very first american tour. there were supposed to be more, but brian contracted hepatitis so the tour was cut short.

may eleventh, 1974, just under three years after john’s first queen gig, and your first time meeting the band. meeting roger. things had continued as he had expected. you at every gig, on rogers arm whenever free, often disappearing and returned some time later looking noticeably disheveled. time had made the pain less sharp, but the ache was still there. the ache for you to be by his side instead of roger’s.

john missed being close to you. they were across the atlantic ocean, muscling through long rehearsals and, as the evening before played out, two gigs in one day. in his distraction, a sharp edge scraped his thumb, drawing a thin line of blood that glistened under the lights. he muttered a soft curse, considering wiping the blood on his pants before hearing freddie’s voice in his head. “go change deaky, we can’t have you drawing too much attention!” john smiled to himself at the thought, winding his way through the faceless crew, searching for the dressing room. once he reached the door and reached for the handle, a noise came from the door that caused him to draw back his hand as if the handle was a thousand degrees.

it was a name. roger’s name. high and giggly, and certainly not in your voice. deaky wanted to throw up. he knew it. roger was like a brother to him but he couldn’t shake the wave of anger that coursed through his veins. john expected this to happen, though he knew it was wrong- so very wrong- to think the worst of his bandmate. your tear stained face filled his mind’s eye, bringing with it crippling waves of guilt. he didn’t want to get involved, it was your business. but goddammit john wanted you to see the truth.

his internal debate was cut short when you rounded the corner, absolutely stopping any brain activity in its tracks. you weren’t supposed to be there. they were in new york for god sakes, and you weren’t supposed to be there. his internal monologue snapped back into action, keenly aware of the activities most likely occurring behind that closed door.

“deaks!!! i’ve missed you! how has america been?” john barely registered the action as you threw your arms around him, squeezing him tight. every muscle in his body was tense with anger, guilt, sadness, that squishy feeling your presence always brought him. you loosened your grip after noticing his lack of reciprocation, but john quickly moved to pull you close, burying his face in your hair.

“missed you too love.” you drew back, bright smile on your face. but your focus was clearly no longer on john, eyes scanning the hallway behind him for a certain someone. a certain someone who deaky suspected wasn’t being as faithful as you.

“hey where’s rog?”

“he’s uhh… look, love, i think he might be with someone else right now. through that door. i’m so sorry. i’m here for you.” he had to force the words out. they scorched his tongue and hung in the air like thick, harsh smog. his heart dropped as your eyes widened, hands coming up to cover your mouth. some sick part of john was almost joyful at the prospect of your relationship with roger ending. you would certainly come to him for comfort, you would hang out more, and then his highschool fantasy would finally play out.

right?

“are you… but… john…” the way your voice wavered hammered a crack in his heart. a sharp stinging picked at his guilty cheer, slowly dragging him down to earth. this wasn’t anything to be excited about.

“i’m so sorry love.” deaky stepped forward, arms open to embrace you, but your hand went up to stop him. your other hand was clutched tight to your chest. it was dead silent in your small section of the corridor, save for your irregular breaths and deaky’s heavy ones. your gaze was focused on the crack at the bottom of the door, breath hitching as your bright eyes followed another shadow. there weren't many words he could discern through the dressing room door, but that uncertainty only made the doubt worse. what could have caused the sudden quiet?

“don’t. i need to see him. right. now.” your spine straightened and you held your chin high. though you still sounded shaky, john could tell that your temper was about to boil over.

“alright, i’m right here if you need me. that menace doesn’t know what you can do.” he watched your expression as you took a shuddering breath, slowly lifting your eyes from the floor. tears clung to the corners of your lashes, stubbornly refusing to fall. deaky reached out a tentative hand, and you waited a moment before taking it. your shoulders relaxed as his fingers intertwined with yours, and john felt his heart swell just a little. maybe there was hope for him yet.

“thank you john, i mean it. you are the only thing i can depend on, apparently.” your weary tone made his hand squeeze tighter. deaky brought your clasped hands up and pressed a soft kiss to the back of your hand. the soft smile that appeared on your lips gave him another boost. you were strong enough to not be broken by roger, and even if you were hurt, john would be there to hold you. with another deep breath, you reached for the door knob and pushed the door open, ready to see what john had been anticipating.

both of you were wrong.

freddie fucking mercury stood in front of a sitting roger, eye pencil in hand. they were both laughing, freddie clearly mocking some critic or interviewer he encountered. freddie stepped back, taking hold of roger’s chin as he admired his handiwork.

“gorgeous rog, our dear y/n won’t be able to keep her eyes off you.” freddie had a mischievous smirk, everything clicking together as john surveyed the scene. roger’s eyes widened, and he turned towards the doorway where you stood. the fear drained from your eyes and was replaced with anger. anger reserved specifically for john. you dropped his hand, curling it into a fist by your side.

“love! what are you doing here?” roger immediately hopped off his stool, racing to sweep you off your feet with an excited squeak from you. he held you in the air for a moment before placing you back down, making sure to pepper your skin with feather light kisses while he waited for an answer.

“freddie flew me out here for the rest of the tour…”

“something wrong love?” roger asked, genuine concern in his soft voice. deaky’s guilt was mounting by the second, manifesting as a dense weight collecting in the pit of his stomach. oh lord. he really messed up now. the look of seething contempt on your face was enough to make his entire world crumble.

he fucked up. he really, truly fucked up. john's growing fixation on yours and roger's relationship was driving you farther away. in that moment, he felt something break. your trust.

"nope, just waiting for a fascinating discussion with our dear john here. i love you little drummer boy." roger grinned, leaning down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. he seemed over the moon just to have you by his side, gazing at you with a childlike wonder. and john selfishly doubted that devotion. though an outsider would shrug off this fumble and move on, the dynamic that formed since you had met roger wrote this severance in stone.

roger wasn’t oblivious as john assumed when it came to your relationship with deaky. he noticed that john was in love with you, even if you couldn’t see it. so once the drummer picked up on your scorching glare, and john’s palpable guilt, his heart broke as well. there was no need for him to say the words. roger wasn’t mad, just disappointed that deaky would think so low of him.

“mind if i listen in on this fascinating discussion my love?”

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you decidedly avoided john until the gig began, and roger followed suit. deaky was wracked with guilt, stumbling through the show. his fingers slipped across the strings without much reason, causing fred to occasionally shoot a glance to get him back on track. the drums seemed a bit… louder than usual, aggressively perfect timing contrasting with john’s fumbling performance. the crowd didn’t seem to mind, but the band members were far from alright.

after the show, things weren’t much better. brian tried to catch deaky on their way off, presumably to give him an earful about their “god awful performance john, good lord” but he slammed the door to the bathroom shut and locked it before he had to face anymore reckoning. freddie was the next to demand an answer, taking the slightly more conservative route of screaming “pull that shit again or so help me god of rock and roll, i will break every…” and so on.

you didn’t bless john with your presence, but your absence spoke wonders. roger didn’t show up in front of the bathroom door either. once deaky crept out a vague amount of time later, the boys were far from calm, but there was no longer a threat of being burnt alive from their anger. the energy in the dressing room was horribly tense. brian and freddie seemed clueless to the reason for roger’s anger, both just focused on the show.

“wanna give us an explanation deaky?” brian muttered, leaning against a wall where multiple mirrors stood. john could see himself reflected in one of the smudged surfaces, brown eyes dark with a storm of emotions. roger was reflected in another, sitting with his elbows on his knees on a beat up couch. his face was a stony mask; completely unreadable.

“well uh… roger and,” john attempted to explain, but couldn’t seem to grasp the right words. each time he reached for something cohesive, it slipped through his fingers and he was left at square one. while deaky struggled with his words, freddie was getting impatient.

“i cannot deal with this sober. you two stay here and work out your fucking problems. better now than tomorrow morning. we’ll be at that bar across the street.” freddie declared, grabbing brian by the arm and pulling him out the door to mumbled protest. freddie silenced him with a loud hush sound, pushing brian out the door and slamming it behind him.

“so uh…” john started off, still not able to look roger in the eyes. instead, he focused on the reflection, dingy fluorescents shiny on roger’s dirty blond hair. but he didn’t seem angry. his body language spoke more of defeat and disheartenment. somehow, that hurt worse than your harsh words.

“look, i’m not mad. just disappointed that you think i would ever do that to her. i know she’s your best friend, but i love her and i would never hurt her like that,” roger was so sincere, locking eyes with john through the mirror. disappointment was certainly a word to describe the look in his eyes, along with sadness and just a hint of guilt. roger was guilty because as a younger student, there was a bit of infidelity present, and there was some weight to john’s concern. but he had grown, and he really loved you.

“i know, and i’m so sorry. you’re also one of my best friends, and i just got ahead of myself because…” john ran a hand through his long hair, gearing up for a confession of what he had known for years, but never had the strength to say out loud.

“you love her too. i know. i can’t and won’t try to change your mind, because i get it. and yeah, i haven’t known her nearly as long as you, but i love her so much,” roger’s voice cracked at the end, sending a similar crack through john’s heart. roger leaned back on the couch, a distinctly sad smile on his face. this was really all deaky had ever wanted for you. someone who loved you unconditionally, and just wanted you to be happy. someone who would never hurt you. john desperately wanted to be that person for you. but that ship might have sailed.

“yeah… i- i do. but now i think she wants nothing to do with me.” now it was john’s turn to break. losing you would hurt him irreparably, but maybe it would be the best for you. he wanted you to be happy more than anything. however, john’s selfish side yearned to tether you to him and never let go.

“just give her time, i’ll talk to her. you still are her best friend, she’ll forgive you.” roger felt weird to be comforting john when he was the one hurt. and it really hurt. because one: you were hurting, two: john, one of his best friends, caused it, and three: said best friend though he was capable of cheating so blatantly in such a serious relationship. roger watched deaky in the mirror as the moment stretched on, mind buzzing with all the events of the day.

“time… i think she still might be mad at me for breaking her calculator when we were seventeen, what if she never forgives me? because oh boy, she loves you, and i don’t know if she could let this all go…” john began to pace, messing with his hair even more. his gaze was unfocused, eyes sweeping back and forth across the room as he tried to gather his thoughts into some cohesive train.

“well, i forgive you. this tour won’t get any easier if we are at each other’s throats.” john nearly slumped to the ground in relief. he wouldn’t be able to stand losing two friends. roger got up from the couch, walking over to deaky. without hesitation, he folded him into a hug, clapping john on the back. conversation over, friend forgiven, and now you were the only uncertainty in deaky’s life.

“now come on, let’s go find y/n and head to the bar. after today’s gig, i need a strong drink or two.” roger sounded relieved and ready to move on from the days events, and john was all for it. but he knew that you would be in no mood to see him, and that would definitely put a damper on the evening. truthfully? he wanted to sleep. sleep, and forget the entire day preferably.

“you go on ahead, i don’t think she wants to see me right now.” john muttered, roger’s hand on his shoulder after stepping back.

“alright, take care deaks.”

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true to deaky’s word, you were not quick to forgive. it took six months for a major step towards healing took place at their “night at the rainbow” shows in late november, where roger infamously trashed his drumset on stage.

you had decided to accompany them for the uk and american legs of the sheer heart attack tour, so there had been a handful of shows you were present during where deaky was soundly ignored. he did an alright job of ignoring you, no matter how much it pained him. he had adopted freddie’s flair for the dramatic clothing wise by that point. roger was always ready to go all out, and you were almost always up for helping him get ready. john had walked in on you two in compromising positions multiple times, which definitely didn’t help your frosty attitude towards deaky.

but at the rainbow theater those nights, something was off between you and roger. from what he could hear, there was some wild misunderstanding before the first show, resulting in a major shouting match while the rest of the band waited outside the dressing room. some time later, you stormed out, leaving roger alone inside. freddie glared at john aggressively until he got the message to follow you and fix his mistakes.

deaky found you right in the wings of the stage, sitting on a spare amplifier while the roadies were doing a soundcheck. your shoulders were slumped forward, eyes trained on the dust streaked stage while chaos whirled around you. the sad eye of the storm.

“i know you’re there johnny-boy. and no, i don’t want to talk.” his heart unconsciously skipped a beat when you used his nickname, before plummeting back to earth from the gravity of the situation. you sounded more hurt than angry, and as to why deaky didn’t know. but he had waited so long for a chance at reconciliation, and this was the best chance he had gotten in ages. he wasn’t about to let it slip by.

“that’s alright. i’ll wait.” john took a seat on a box just a few feet behind you, crossing one leg over the other while he waited. he knew you long enough to understand that you would immediately clam up when interrogated. so he waited, letting you relax into his presence. after five straight minutes of silence, you finally spoke.

“he can be so stupid sometimes. all i wanted was to know how long he would be gone tonight, and he just snapped. i know you guys are under a lot of stress, but he was the one who asked me to come. i just want to spend time with him.” you sounded so defeated, but john couldn’t be more excited that you finally decided to really talk with him.

“yeah, he can be a real arse.” you chuckled to yourself at his response, lifting your eyes from the floor to focus more on the stage lights and various instruments being towed around.

“you could say that again. but… he really loves you. i’m sure you’ll be alright.” deaky had to force the words out, no matter how deeply he knew them to be true. he still was crazy about you, and jealousy ripped through his body when you mentioned roger.

“thanks for listening john. i know things have been a little… iffy between us. maybe a lot iffy. and don’t take this as forgiveness. but i miss my best friend. i am not ready to let your mistrust go just yet, but consider this… progress.” john’s heart swelled at your… well… acceptance of his mistake.

“i’ll take anything at this point.” you laughed lightly at his words, going quiet again right after. the moment was over. progress was certainly made, but the conversation just made john miss you more. that evening, roger trashed his drum set, fuming as he walked offstage when the show was done. you were there waiting for him and the two of you made up. the next day, things were essentially back to the way before the rainbow theater. but you would actually talk to john now. you would laugh at his jokes, tease him; progress.

things weren’t truly, totally, alright between the two of you until the very last show of the american leg, right before they went on stage. after the show, things were a little up in the air.

but before, everything became perfectly mended. john was getting ready in the dressing room, in the back of a venue in seattle he did not know the name of. the rest of the boys were there, goofing off as usual. brian was taking photos of roger posing with ridiculous faces, occasionally calling out directions for how he should look. roger was just laughing, fluffing his hair in front of a tall standing mirror.

john sat on a low sofa pushed against one of the cracked brick walls, you sitting on the other side. there was a tense silence in your side of the room, both you and john doing anything to ignore each other’s presence. they were heading to japan the next day, which means you were heading back home to the uk, and the boys weren’t going to be back until may.

john fell back to his pre-performance memory of you and him. without even knowing it, his gaze shifted to you. just as beautiful as ever. he could almost feel the soft brush of your hair against his cheek, the comforting weight of your hand in his. your whispered words from that day prickled his skin, sending a brief shiver down his spine.

“something you need from me, john?” you caught john staring at you with a wistful look in his eye, breaking his gaze almost immediately after making eye contact. you focused instead on the soft curls of his brown hair until he responded.

“just… antsy i guess.” john wouldn’t look at you once caught, glancing down to his fidgeting hands, freddie preening in front of the mirror, brian fiddling with his camera. he wanted to avoid a potential blowout, no matter how nice it felt to casually talk with you.

“you’re gonna do great. you always do great johnny.” he still couldn’t face you, but the sincerity of your words eased his spirit. no matter how much time passed without speaking, you would always find each other. and deaky was pretty sure he had found you once more.

“well i have my best friends here, i can’t in good conscience give less than my best.” john spoke as casually as possible, gathering the courage to finally look you in the eye. what he saw almost made him melt. you were looking at him with a soft smile that made his world right itself and revolve around you.

“you’re a good man deaky. and i forgive you. truthfully, i’m sorry as well.” a beat passed before you scooted closer to him, tension slowly building in the shrinking space between you. it was broken by you surging forward and wrapping your arms around john’s neck, inhaling his scent with deep, calming breaths. he fell stiff for a moment before embracing you back, almost shedding a tear as he tightened his grip little by little. the room fell away and it was just you and deaky.

“never apologize to me, love. i’m just glad to have you back.” john whispered breathily against your neck, closing his eyes for one long moment before he felt you soften your hold and pull back, stolen from the moment by roger taking a seat on your other side. he couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment of rejection, but the feel of you in his arms chased away the worries he might have clung to before the show began.

“so you two have finally made up?” roger said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. you leaned into him, resting a hand on his chest through the open vest he wore. the peaceful, dopey grin john had fell just a tad, but for the moment, just for a moment, he was content.

“i think we have, my love.” you responded lazily, pressing a kiss to the underside of roger’s jaw. that was john’s que to leave. he playfully ruffle your hair just like he once did to you as a teen, then reluctantly got up, walking over to where freddie fussed over his leather jumpsuit and shimmering wristlet.

after just a few minutes of having freddie fuss over john’s appearance, the band was called to the stage. you followed them to the door, giving roger a deep kiss and the rest of the band tight hugs. you whispered faintly in deaky’s ear before pulling away, to which he responded by just squeezing you tighter. he heard roger cough, and slowly released his grip around your waist.

“i’m very proud of you, don’t you forget it.” you smiled after john released you, somehow feeling bold enough to place a hand on his cheek. for a second, a river of unspoken words flowed from him to you, deflected smoothly by your emotional walls. john sighed, taking your wrist between his calloused fingers. he squeezed your hand, then let it fall to your side.

“never. i’ll see you soon.” he waved on his way out the door, sneaking one look over his shoulder just before turning the corner and being rewarded with roger kissing you in one last goodbye. splendid.

that show might have been the jewel in the crown of sheer heart attack’s american tour. john and roger were shockingly in sync, brian’s solos sounded better than ever, and freddie’s voice was clearer than it had been in weeks. they hit their groove, and the crowd could feel it too. their undeniable energy just raised the band’s spirits, and their last songs were met with cheers for an encore. after jailhouse rock, the second to last song, john was poised to start playing “god save the queen” until brian caught his eye and mouthed an agressive “NO.” note taken, but john shot him a questioning glance. with a huff, brian strode over to deaky, taking him by the upper arm and pulling him to the far side of the stage.

“what the fuck brian?” john angrily whispered, yanking his arm back once they were on the other side of roger’s drum kit. speaking of roger, he was standing by freddie in the center of the stage. you were standing clear across on the other side of the stage, mouthing a similar “what the fuck?” towards john, who just shrugged and looked confused. he was very, very confused.

“just shut up. you might want to hold on to something.” brian mumbled, clutching his red special a little tighter. deaky was about to bite back until freddie cut him off.

“before we go lovies, roger has a little something to say. so pretty boy, the stage is yours.” freddie spoke plainly, a teasing lilt to his words. he wriggled his eyebrows at roger, who simply swiped the microphone and stuck his tongue out at the singer. freddie retaliated by blowing a kiss and prancing over to where john and brian stood.

“fred, what the-”

“oh just be quiet and listen. our boy has a lot on his mind.” freddie cooed, still not dropping his playful tone. john was understandably agitated, while brian just stood to the side with the smallest of smiles on his lips. something was going on. just before john was able to demand clarification, roger piped up and handed john an answer on a golden platter.

“hey lads, so you know me, of course. who doesn’t?” roger joked with the crowd, sending a ripple of laughter throughout the ranks of their adoring fans. john was slow to catch on, still glaring at freddie and brian at equal intervals. both astutely ignored him, smiling at roger speaking downstage.

“but i’d like to introduce you to someone very special to me. y/n, can you come one out here?” uh oh. it all clicked for john. he knew what was happening, he knew what roger was going to ask. he knew what your answer would be. john knew that he was extremely close to running offstage and throwing up. but life had other plans, and life’s name was roger. he surged on, smile brighter than the sun as you slowly stepped onto the stage.

“this is y/n, my gorgeous, intelligent girlfriend,” roger spoke to the crowd, before turning his attention to a highly confused you. a wall of glass rose up between john and you; he could only stand by as roger got down on one knee in front of their cheering fans, all going ballistic at the prospect of what was happening to their idol, right before their eyes.

“honey, dearest, angel, my love. i was such a mess when we met. university student, head full of dreams and too much shampoo. but john brought you to his very first show with us and from then on, i knew it was over for me,” roger talked directly to you, the room falling away until everyone could only watch one of the most important moments of your life. your hands went up to cover your mouth, tears visible in the corners of your eyes. roger seemed a little worse for wear as well, blinking rapidly to keep tears from falling. john wanted to wake up from this terrible nightmare, but there was no stopping what was already in motion.

“you are the light in my life, my rock, and i don’t know how i survived that long without you. i am so ridiculously, embarrassingly in love with you y/n. and there is no one i would rather share my future with,” roger reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small, blue velvet box. with one smooth motion, he flicked it open, letting the burning stage lights glint off of simple diamond ring. your happy tears finally spilled over, and roger’s soft smile brightened as he spoke his final words.

“so, would you please accept this ring and, oh, i don’t know… marry me?” you nodded rapidly before he even finished talking. roger started to stand, but you ran into his arms, sinking to the ground with your arms desperately wrapped around each other. the microphone rolled away from the happy couple, squealing with feedback before a roadie came and swooped it up.

john could barely stand as he watched you hold out a shaking hand to roger. he slid the elegant ring onto your finger, smiling all the way. you pulled him in for a deep kiss, nearly toppling roger over with your excitement. once you pulled back from him, john was nearly in tears himself. he had a tragically perfect view of your tearstained face. and there sat the biggest and brightest smile in the room, one john would march heaven and earth to see.

except that moment. he wanted to give into every selfish desire and break your heart so you would never want to see roger ever again. but he couldn’t. he just couldn’t. john loved you way too much to ruin your moment. roger’s proposal was something his good heart refused to ruin. but that smile.

that goddamn smile.

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first “deaky” fic (team deaks or team rog??) so yeah. hope y’all enjoyed. i actually liked writing from the boy’s perspectives. lmk if you’re down for a part two ;))))

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ivanaskye · 5 years ago

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So I finished reading the second book of Wheel of Time yesterday, literally years after the first one since I didn’t *like* the first one. But between my tastes changing somewhat and becoming such a big fan of Brandon Sanderson that I kinda wanted to read WoT just to get to his part anyway, I went at it again.

Here are my thoughts.

First, some general stuff:

One’s opinion of this series probably depends almost entirely on one’s tolerance and/or fondness for dumbasses, because almost none of these characters have braincells

Tolerance for length/slow pace helps too

There’s also that whole strict gender binary thing, although it is less gender *essentialist* than I remembered—a lot of these characters break stereotypes left and right. But in this series you are either A Man or A Woman, and magic Knows This

Speaking of that it’s pretty ironic that the One Power is named what it is when there are like, a lot of other available magic powers out there. Like wolves, and seeing fate.

Below the cut I’m going to talk about character impressions/where I think their arcs are going from here. While I have seen some spoilers here and there around the Internet, please don’t reply to me with any!

[[MORE]]

Rand

So our first character is Rand. Who is so, so stupid. (And hopefully not named for Ayn Rand.) He spends literally this entire book running away at full speed from like, anything that might even imply he’s vaguely important

Which is everything, because HE’S THE CHOSEN ONE

The amount of plot shenanigans with the ‘worlds that might be’ that it took to make him actually channel....

He doesn’t func, guys

And pathologically distrusts one of the only people (Moiraine) who’s actually on his side

I’m looking forward to where he goes from here though, especially due to that moment with Ingtar and being so convinced anyone can come back to the light/be redeemed

Egwene

The only truly relatable character in this book

Her reaction to having magic powers is “oh worm, let me dive into this at terminal velocity”

Which like. Same.

Everything is terminal velocity with her. According to the sortinghatchats system, she would definitely be a gryffindor secondary.

She also went through a few chapters’ worth of torture porn and now is totally willing to kill some folks

One of the few spoilers I HAVE seen is that Rand ends up polyamorously with a few women, but (due in part to another spoiler), I’m pretty sure Egwene isn’t going to be one of them? Which honestly makes her more interesting tbh

Moiraine

Possessor of one of the only brain cells in the whole book

But literally doesn’t know how to not come across as scheming, because she IS scheming 24/7. But like, for Good.

I really like her and hope she doesn’t end up so mentor-coded that she dies

Perrin

He’s a furry, and I say FURRY RIGHTS

(The whitecloaks, however, do not say furry rights)

He’s also a fan of running away from things, but not as much as Rand

He’s not my favorite, but he could go somwhere interesting

Mat

Is the rescue-bait for most of this book, an unusual but exciting look in an Edgy Male Teenager

Also has no brain cells, as evidenced by sounding the gd horn

Like omg dude. Did you really. (He did really.)

Nynaeve

Almost definitely going to become one of the most powerful people on the planet

Gods, that scene with the arches where she just. She JUST. The horrifying but awesome realization as she *summons back the arch with will alone* that she ABSOLUTELY SHOULDNT BE ABLE TO DO THAT

Just, ungodly powerful

But her power is fueled almost exclusively by RAGE

(Which she has a lot of.)

Occasional holder of one of the only braincells, but only occasionally

I’m still kinda annoyed that she hates Moiraine tho

Elayne

99.99% convinced she’s gonna be one of the women who gets with Rand

She was in the first book I guess but I totally don’t remember her from it

I don’t feel like I know much about her yet? Beyond “thank goodness Egwene has a friend”

Is probably gonna end up cool???

Min

80% convinced she’s getting with Rand

Also was in the first book tho I don’t remember her

Maybe has a braincell????

(Looks at friend basically dying in front of her) “I prefer older men”

She just says that!!!

Probably a legend for that if nothing else

Lan

I think I’ve heard he’s a fan favorite but idg why

Barely in this book tho, so maybe I’ll need to see more of him? But honestly I don’t care too much about this stoic man who has never had an emotional maturity in his life

Loial

Is there

Actually steadfast friend of Rand who Rand *trusts*, which is a miracle in and of itself

I kinda have the same feelings about him as I do about Perrin, which is to say, “ok I guess but I’m not writing him off”

Selene/Lanfear

Totally called her being Lanfear

I’m almost completely convinced that she’s either going to be grey-morality, evil but sympathetic, or outright redeemed

Which is EXCITING because I don’t know WHICH

Probably actually IS on Rand’s side??? For what that’s worth when he’s such an, uh, multivalent chosen one

“You’re the only thing that can defeat Satan but also you’re probably lowkey doomed to destroy the world”

(Yes, for those of you playing along at home, the villain is Just Satan. Or Shai’tan, as he’s called in these books)

Anyway this moved off track from the Selene thing so I’ll leave off with this parting note about her-

Hot demons are VALID

#wot #wheel of time #apologies for this sudden very off topic not-quite-live blog!!!

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hyperion-moonbabe · 5 years ago

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Caught in Between: 01. New Beginnings

IMPORTANT!!! TO ANYONE FOLLOWING OR READING MY TVD SERIES: This blog is currently my secondary blog. I have wanted to change it to primary for a while and since Tumblr does not allow it. I have created a new blog: @hyperion-moonbabe-1

I will be porting everything over to this blog including my series and possibly eventually delete it so I can use this name without the “-1” on the end. If you would like to continue to read my series, please know that it will be continued on my new blog. Thank you!

Edit: Update

Summary: Athena Dumont has finally found a place to call home after many years of foster homes and traveling. She had finally tamed her supernatural side and just wanted to live a normal teenage life. She quickly discovers that there is nothing normal about her hometown, Mystic Falls and gets sucked right back into the supernatural world.

Post Date: 02.26.20 Word count: 4.7K Based off: 02x06 “Plan B”

00.

I walked into my old childhood home, not expecting it to be fully furnished. I spent time looking around, gathering items from my family that I wanted to keep, and finally getting a moving company to get rid of the old furniture. Once everything was gone, I went into town to apply for a job and find some new furniture. I walked into a restaurant called the Mystic Grill.

"Hi, I was wondering if you guys were hiring," I said to a blonde-haired guy as I walked in.

"I'm not sure but, I can grab an application for you to fill out and pass it on to my manager," The blonde guy says and walks to the back. He returns with an application and a pen. I fill out the application and hand it back to the male.

"I'm Matt Donovan, nice to meet you."

"Athena Dumont, nice to meet you too," I say as I shake his hand.

"Wait as in the founding family Dumont?" He questions.

"Yeh, just moved back in today actually," I responded back.

"Welcome back to Mystic Falls, see you around," He smiles and goes back to work.

I continue to walk around the town looking for furniture to replace the old. After walking out of the last store I hear a familiar voice coming from behind me.

"What-a-surprise, Athena. Never thought I'd see you here in Mystic Falls." The familiar voice says.

"Damon," I turn around and give a fake smile. "And why would that be?" I question back.

"I mean this is Mystic Falls, a small town, nobody comes here." He says scoffing.

"Well, I thought it'd be nice for me to finally settle into my roots as a founding family," I responded.

"You come from a founding family here!?" He questions not believing me.

"Yes, I'm a Dumont. Might not be a name you hear often considering my family and I moved away about 12 years ago with my parents."

"Wow, I was not expecting that. Well, I guess we should play catch up then," Damon says, smirking and walking up next to me putting his arm around my shoulders before I push it off. But he just puts his arm back around my shoulders. We somehow ended up at his house and catching up with each other since it had been about two years since we met each other.

"I finally learned about the supernatural world... So two years ago, the whole thing about you being a vampire was true, but I didn't believe it huh," I say to Damon as we're sitting on the couch in the grand room.

"Well sorta. I drank your blood, fed you mine, then compelled you to forget," Damon explained loosely.

"So basically I was your personal blood bag," I said, fake smiling at Damon as he nodded. "Well, I bite now so I wouldn't try anything if I were you."

"Huh?" Damon looks at me confused before we hear a knock at the door.

Damon gets up from the couch and opens the door. I follow closely behind. When he opens the door I see a tall brown-haired guy standing in the doorway for a brief second before Damon blocks my view.

"I need to talk to you" I hear the guy say.

"And why do I need to talk to you?" Damon responds and I roll my eyes at his dickishness, as he tries to close the door on the other guy.

"Tyler Lockwood has to kill someone to activate his curse. He's not a werewolf yet."

"Wow, fascinating. Not enough." Damon says not impressed and tries to close the door again.

"I'm not sure what you have gotten yourself into this time but maybe you should listen to him," I say but Damon ignores my comment.

"But Mason Lockwood is and he's looking for a moonstone, a special rock connected to the werewolf legend. That's why I'm here." The guy says trying to convince Damon to give him his full attention.

"Wait, a moonstone? I've heard about it somewhere" I say trying to remember where I heard it from.

"I know where it is." the guy responds.

“And you're bringing me this why?" Damon questions.

"This actually sounds important. You should stop being a dick and listen, Damon. Especially if it involves the moonstone, there’s something important about it. I just can’t remember," I say sternly.

“And why do you seem to know so much about this moonstone, Athena?" Damon questions me while keeping eye contact with the guy on the porch.

"Wait are you Athena Dumont?" The other guy asks me.

"Yeh, why?"

"I'm Jeremy Gilbert, you may not remember but you were best friends with my sister before you moved away." He says as I think about it.

I was about to say something before Damon interrupted me "What's your sister say about this little discovery, anyways?" Damon questions Jeremy, but no response is given. "Oh, you haven't told her, have you?"

"Well, Elena doesn't want me getting involved in all this," Jeremy says sighing.

"And you're a Gilbert and you just can't help yourself. Wow. Your search for life's purpose is as obvious as it is tragic." Damon says. I roll my eyes at his dumb comment.

"You going to let me in or not?" Jeremy asks. I see Damon hesitate and I shove my way in to open the door.

I'm not sure why, but I'm interested in whatever trouble Damon has gotten himself in. But in all honesty, I am glad that I could possibly make some new friends here. Well, new old friends, I guess. Maybe even help them solve this little problem they have, whatever it is.

I see a blonde girl walk from what I assume is the kitchen, with a silver tray in hand, stocked full of food. She spots me sitting in the great room with Jeremy. "Hi, I'm Athena. I just moved into town and an old friend of Damon's" I say to her smiling.

"I'm Caroline, your name sounds familiar. Have we met before or something?" She responds questioningly.

"She's Athena Dumont, an old friend of yours, Bonnie and Elena's when you guys were young. Oh, and she's a founding family member" Jeremy says before I can respond.

"Oh my god, I remember. You just moved away when we were only like five years old. But how do you know that Jeremy?" Caroline responds.

"I just saw some old photos of you guys not too long ago," Jeremy explains.

"Well, there's this masquerade ball happening tomorrow and you should totally come and meet everyone else," Caroline says before she heads off to some other part of the house.

I can't help but shake that everyone else remembers who I am, yet I don't. It's almost like my memories of them were purged from my mind. I keep trying to jog my memory until my thoughts are interrupted by someone walking in the door with a box in hand. He's a little older, maybe around Damon's age when he became a vampire.

"What are you doing here?" He asks Jeremy.

"Helping Damon. I'm the one who found out about the moonstone." Jeremy responds as the man looks at Damon.

"Does Elena know you're here?"

"Not exactly," Jeremy says, as the man looks at me.

"Hi, I'm Athena. I was just here when this was all unveiled." I say the man looks at me slightly confused at why I'm here. "If you're worried that all of this shouldn't be said in front of me. I'm an old friend of Damon's. And I've heard of the moonstone, so I thought that I may be of some help. If that's ok." I say picking up on his cautiousness.

"I'm Alaric, and if you're up for getting caught in all this. Then, you're more than welcome to stay and help." He says in response and sets down the box he's holding.

"What you got?" Damon says breaking the silence and starts to go through the box and picks up a book.

"This is Isobel research from Duke. Her assistant sent it to me." Alaric says

"Mmm, Vanessa. The hottie." I roll my eyes at Damon's comment and bump my elbow on his side. He looks at me with a confused look and I just give him a look of why.

"Vanessa, yes. Now, do you remember the old Aztec curse she told us about?"

"Sun and the moon, blah blah blah blah blah."

"An Aztec curse? Cool." Jeremy says slightly excitedly.

"Yeah, supposedly vampires and werewolves used to roam freely until a shaman put a curse on them to limit their power. Since then, werewolves can only turn on a full moon and vampires are weakened by the sun." Alaric explains as Damon shows off his daylight ring, "Most of them, anyway."

"It sucks," I say in response to the werewolf side of the curse.

"Wait am I missing something, here? How exactly do you know so much about the supernatural world?" Damon says looking at me questioningly.

"Yeh that comment about me biting, I'm a werewolf now. How did you not catch onto that? And the fact that I'm a Dumont." I say defensively and a bit upset that he can’t pick up on a hint.

“I'm sorry I didn't attend Mystic Falls supernatural People 101 " He responds sarcastically and I just roll my eyes again.

"Well, if I could offer a piece of information. I do know that according to the legend, my wolf side, like every other werewolf, is sealed with the moonstone," I say and Alaric nods and pulls out some sort of map.

"What do you mean sealed?" Jeremy questions as he looks at the map.

"It's a witch thing, whatever seals the curse is usually the key to unsealing the curse," Damon says from across the room.

"Maybe Mason Lockwood believes he can use the moonstone to break the curse," Alaric says in response.

"If we start believing in some supernatural witchy-woo legend from a picture book, we're idiots. Who has the stone now?" Damon says, sounding slightly more intrigued.

"Tyler" Jeremy responds to his question

"Can you get it?" I ask Jeremy even though I really have no clue what's going on.

"Yeah."

"See, now your life has purpose," Damon says dickishly.

"Shut up Damon. I can help if you'd like" I sigh and Jeremy just looks at me nodding.

"This has nothing to do with you," Damon says with a little harshness in his voice, but I ignore his comment.

"So, you do believe the curse?" Jeremy asks.

"It's the same book that says a werewolf bite kills a vampire. Ignoring it would make me an even bigger idiot. Let's go." Damon says, finishing his drink. I follow him and Jeremy out the door.

We make our way over to a mansion where it looks like they're holding the masquerade ball Caroline told me about. Damon, Jeremy and I walk in, I follow behind Damon who walks up to a brunette girl, but I stay at a distance being respectful of their conversation.

"Looking for my baby bro. Speaking of, would you tell yours to stop following me around?" Damon says slightly louder. I assume this girl is Elena Gilbert. Damon then just walks past me and outside. I just stand in the room until I hear my name.

"Anyways, Elena, this is Athena Dumont, from our childhood. She just moved back in." Jeremy says as I walk up to the siblings.

"Hi, forgive me, but honestly I don't remember anyone from here, even though everyone remembers me. But it's really nice to meet you." I say nervously.

"Well, I'm Elena. It's nice to meet you too." She says smiling as Jeremy walks away leaving us alone.

"So, I noticed that you walked in with Damon. You should really watch out for him" Elena says, I offer to help her and she passes me some masks to sort

"Yeh, I know. We're old friends. He tried to deter me from this whole situation you guys are in. Which in all honesty I still don't have the full picture. But he couldn't stop me since I have some helpful info." I say and chuckle.

"Well, it'll be nice to have another person around. But, I wouldn't recommend sticking around." Elena says coldly.

"Well, I'd be more than glad to help with whatever you guys need. I've heard about this curse and honestly, I have a feeling that I need to figure it out." I respond.

"In that case, you should probably meet everyone else." She says putting the masks down and gesturing to follow her outside.

We walk down into all the chaos of the outside set up. Elena first takes me to the guy named Matt I met earlier and a brown-haired guy. They were in the middle of a slightly heated conversation but Elena didn't hesitate to interrupt.

"Hey guys, this is Athena. Athena this is Matt and Tyler" She says pointing to the blonde and then the brunette.

"Matt and I actually met earlier, I went to apply to the Mystic Grill," I say, turning to Elena.

"It's nice to meet you," Tyler says looking at me up and down. Elena was then called over by someone and Matt just walked off, leaving me alone with Tyler. Or so I thought.

"Hey man," Jeremy says walking over to Tyler and me. They started talking about the moonstone and I could sense that Tyler was uneasy about the fact that I was standing there. I look up to see Damon and another man standing next to him, so I decided to walk up to them.

"And who might this be," I say to Damon, referring to the other man.

"This is my lovely baby bro, Stefan," Damon says, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you not going to introduce me to your friend Damon?" Stefan questions looking at Damon.

Damon starts to open his mouth before I interrupt, "I am an old friend of Damon's who just moved back into town. I'm Athena Dumont." I say holding my hand out to Stefan. I see Stefan's face light up slightly at the mention of my last name as he shakes my hand.

"Well, we are busy. I will come and get you later" Damon says walking away and Stefan following behind.

I see Elena sit down on the stairs with a concerned face. I walk over to her feeling awkward just standing here. "Everything alright?" I say sitting next to her.

"Sorta. Stefan, Damon's brother. Isn't filling me in on what's going on." she says upset.

"I'm sure he will. Just give it a moment. He did just walk off with Damon a few minutes ago." I say looking at her, noticing she's growing impatient. She looks at her phone and starts to call Stefan.

After a while, I go to find Damon. When I find him he's in the front of the house with his brother and another girl. Who I assumed was a witch considering the concentration in her face and the man clutching his head. Damon knees the man in the face and then takes notice of me standing in the doorway. The two brothers take the man and put them in the back of the Jeep.

"Are you just gonna stand there or get in?" Damon says looking at me and gesturing for me to get in the Jeep with him.

"I guess I'm coming," I say and hop in the back seat.

We drive back to the Salvatore house, once we arrive Damon picks up the man and carries him into the house as the girl and I follow behind him.

"I hate that this is the way we meet. But I'm Athena." I say to her.

"My name is Bonnie. I'm sure you've guessed it but I'm the local witch." She says with a little sarcasm in the word "local".

We walk over to Damon, I look at the books on the shelves as Damon and Bonnie talk. I hear chains being pulled out of the bag that Bonnie had brought in, "You wanna make yourself useful and help me, Athena," Damon says looking up at me. I sigh and walk over and grab a chain from him.

"Whoa. Looks like this guy's used to being tied up" Bonnie says. I look up to Damon smirking at me, knowing that he's thinking about our past together. I just roll my eyes at him as I help tie the guy to the chair.

"So is this the Mason Lockwood guy. You and Jeremy were talking about?" I say looking between Bonnie and Damon.

"Yup and we need him to give up the moonstone. What are you doing?" He says looking at Bonnie.

"You're looking for the moonstone like you just said. I'm just trying to help" Bonnie says, taking Mason's head in her hands. Damon responds with multiple requests as Bonnie starts to search his mind.

"Somewhere small. dark. There's water." Bonnie describes.

"Like a sewer?" I ask trying to help her description

"No. Like a well? That can't be right. Yeah. It's a well."

"Why would it be in a well?" Damon questions

"I told you, I only get what I get." She says with some haste, looking at Damon. Then Mason wakes up and grabs Bonnie's arm. My immediate response was to grab Mason's hand to make him let go. She rushes out of the room.

"Hey, judgey! Thank you," Damon says to Bonnie. I look at him in surprise when he said that. I stay in the room with them, curious about this moonstone business. I sit down on one of the couches as Damon starts to interrogate Mason or at least attempt to.

I sit on the couch watching Damon's interrogation technique. Mason struggles in the chair we chained him to and ends up falling backward as Damon heats up the metal poker in the fire. He sticks the poker into Mason's upper right chest.

"You can hurt -- good to know. I was afraid you were gonna be some beast with no affinity for pain." He says nonchalantly.

I start to open my mouth but Damon stops me, "If you don't approve, you can leave." He says looking at me. I just sit back and stay quiet.

Damon starts to question Mason about this Katherine girl but gets no answer. This goes on for some time but Damon still wasn't successful. I then see Jeremy walk into the room with a box in hand. I walk over to the box he had just set down and start to take some of the stuff out as Damon makes some whiny comments about Jeremy being here. I stop when I notice a familiar dried herb.

"What is it?" Damon asks, noticing my hesitation.

"I did a search on my phone. It's a plant. Aconitum Vulparia. It grows in the mountainous areas of the northern hemisphere. Commonly known as aconite, blue rocket, and" Jeremy starts to explain handing the herb to Damon.

"Wolfsbane," I say interrupting Jeremy, as he looks at me confused.

"What else did you read?" Damon asks looking at Jeremy.

"Well, every source says something different. One myth says it causes lycanthropy, which sounds bogus. Another one says that it protects people and another one says, well, it's toxic." Jeremy explains as Mason groans and I tense up.

"I'm guessing toxic," Damon says, noticing me tensing up and hearing Mason groan.

"You guessed right," I say, touching my finger to the herb, displaying its ability to harm werewolves. I inhale sharply and hold my finger from the pain. I see Jeremy's face light up as he comes to the realization that I'm a werewolf.

Damon goes back to interrogate Mason, using his new toy. I wince and turn away when the wolfsbane is shoved into his mouth. It's like I could almost feel the burning sensation in my own throat that Mason was experiencing. Even with the wolfsbane, Damon was unsuccessful. After multiple failed attempts at getting answers, Jeremy interrupts and tells Damon that maybe he should stop. He ignores the comment and threatens to take Mason's eyes. This causes Mason to finally give him answers to the many questions. Once Mason stops giving answers, I could see in Damon’s eyes that he wanted to kill him, I guess to cover his tracks.

Damon tries to get rid of Jeremy, knowing that he disapproves of the actions that are about to take place. But Jeremy just stands his ground and Mason pleads to him in order to keep Tyler safe. I walk around the chair pushing Damon out of the way.

"I may not know you or Tyler that well. But I assure you I won't let that happen. I know what the curse does to a person, I'm a werewolf. And I would never wish the curse on anyone" I say looking at Mason. I could feel the annoyance radiating off Damon.

"You should go, Jeremy," Damon says, not even really responding to what I said.

"I'm staying, Damon. He's had enough." Jeremy says and I stand up between Damon and Mason.

The next thing I know Damon super speeds towards Jeremy, slamming him into the couch, "You wanted to be a part of this? Well, here it is! Kill or be killed! The guy is a werewolf; he'd kill me the first chance he got! So, you suck it up or leave." He says with a menacing look in his face and holding Jermy by the throat.

"Damon! Stop." I say trying to stop him from killing Jeremy. The only response I get back is wolfsbane being slammed onto my arm. He only lets go of both Jeremy and me, after I let out a gut-wrenching scream from the pain. Jeremy gets up from the couch after catching his breath and leaves, I follow behind just glaring at Damon.

Once we make it to the hall Jeremy stops and turns around, " Are you ok?" He asks, bringing my arm up to look at the burn mark left by the wolfsbane.

"Yeh, it'll heal" I respond sighing and looking at the burn starting to disappear.

I sit in the great room, not wanting to see Damon, but also not wanting to go back to my unfurnished home just yet. After a few minutes, Stefan walks into the house, with what I assumed was the moonstone, in hand.

"You ok? What did my brother do this time." He asks me with slight concern in his voice.

"Yeh, he used his leverage for Mason on me. Wolfsbane. I'm fine now. He was just riled up, I'm sure he's just about done now." I say looking over towards the library.

"Well let’s go see what he's up to now?" Stefan says walking up to the couch, offering his hand to help me up.

We walk to the library and are greeted with Damon rolling up Mason's dead body in the blanket he placed down earlier. I stop at the top small set of stairs while Stefan goes to show Damon the moonstone. I listen to their little brotherly banter and watch as Damon dials a number on Mason's phone. It ends up being Katherine. From what I gathered, I could tell that they used to be romantically involved with one another and possibly Stefan too from his physical responses. A few hours later, I leave Stephan in the library to think and Damon follows behind me into the great room.

"Well, I'm going home," I say turning to Damon

"Or you could stay here," Damon says stepping closer to me with a smirk on his face. "Now I'm sure that your house is empty since you just moved in. Getting rid of all that old furniture and all. And I'm sure you'd rather sleep in a bed than on a couch."

I sigh and look to the side, "Fine, I haven't even paid the power and heating bill yet anyways. Luckily when I came over my bag was filled with new clothes I had bought. I'll go find a room" I say looking back up at his sculpted face.

"Orrrrrrr you could stay in mine," Damon says stepping even closer, making our bodies almost touch.

"After what you did to me today, I don't think so. Not to mention, it kind of hurt me when you left me two years ago." I say referring to when he left me two years ago.

"I'm sorry, it was because I was caught up in the moment," he says with an apologetic voice.

"That's what you always say" I respond as Damon steps away. I notice that he does so because we're interrupted by a crying Elena rushing out.

Damon turns to her, "Elena. I riled Katherine up. I - I wasn't thinking. I didn't think." He says to her just before she opens the door.

"It doesn't matter, Damon. She won. Katherine won." Elena says with teary eyes, before walking out.

Damon looks back at me with an upset face, I had never seen him like this before. He must really care for these people, more care than he's ever shown me at least. I take a deep breath, grab my bag and head upstairs, leaving him alone in the great room. Once I got upstairs, I decided that it wouldn't hurt to try to reconnect with Damon, so I looked for his room.

"You need help choosing a room?" I hear Stefan say walking up behind me.

"Ummm....I'm not sure if Damon told you this but we used to be involved with one another. I know it's probably a mistake and I’m gonna regret it, but I thought that maybe we could possibly reconnect. So I'm looking for his room. That and I don't think he's gonna give me any other choice." I say, half regretting what I just told him.

"It's the one on the end," He says pointing to the end of the corridor.

"Thanks," I say and give him a hug, noticing that he's upset. He hugs me back.

When I walk into Damon's room I notice how big it is, including the ensuite bathroom. I set my stuff down by the dresser. I look up and notice a small familiar box sitting on the dresser. I open it up to find the moon-shaped necklace I lost when I was with him. It was a necklace that was given to me by my parents, at least I think so, I've had it for as long as I can remember.

I set it back down, start to undress and hop into the shower. It felt nice to clean myself off after today and gave myself time to think about what I've gotten myself into. When I finished showering and getting dressed to sleep, I was greeted by a shirtless Damon standing by the dresser.

"I see that you took my offer," He says, continuing to rifle through his clothes in the dresser.

"I don't think you'd take no for an answer," I say walking over to him, he chuckles at my comment. I pick up the box that contained my necklace, "I thought I lost this forever" I say opening it up.

"I found it on some other girl. Of course, knowing it was yours and that it means a lot to you. I ripped it off her neck. You were already out of town before I could give it back to you. May I?" He says picking it up. I turn around allowing him to put the necklace around my neck.

"Thank you," I said quietly, turning to face him, he gives me a little smile as he stares intently into my eyes.

Soon enough, I'm wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing my lips to his soft ones. He hesitates at first but gives in. He picks me up allowing me to wrap my legs around his waist. He super speeds us over to his bed and starts to undress me, feeling every inch of my body.

A/N: Here is the first chapter! I know it may be a bit messy, but I wanted to introduce to Athena to all/most of the characters pretty fast, considering that this episode also allowed it. I’m also still trying to figure out how I want to write since there is a lot of characters and dialogue in TVD. I hope you enjoyed and please let me know what you think. Any advice would great as well! :)

#the vampire diaries #the originals #damon salvatore #Stefan Salvatore #elena gilbert #jeremy gilbert #caroline forbes #bonnie bennett #tyler lockwood #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine #matt donovan

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natsspammityspamspamham · 5 years ago

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Dino Watches Anime (April 26)

I haven’t made one of these for a while, and after the first draft went and deleted itself, I wondered whether it was worth making another one (I make these primarily for myself then get really surprised whenever people notice these). During harsh times like these, I find myself being drawn to the cheesiest and the most cringe-inducing shows, but maybe I just like them because you can put them on double-speed without missing a thing because you know what’s going on. It’s like instant noodle broth: satisfying, warming, but you know it’s going to kill your insides with self-crisis. Seriously, I didn’t come to terms that I really, really like romance as a genre until a little while ago.

With that being said, I want to take a short break from romance now.

I often ask myself, “Why are you watching these when you can be watching really good anime?” Well, that’s probably because I don’t want to have my analytical brain on right now. I want to watch an anime that takes two brain cells to enjoy. I only have two. Once I garden some more, maybe then will I get into the stuff I know I will enjoy like Hunter x Hunter (2011)

Things that I just started but couldn’t get into

NHK ni Youkoso! (1/24)

For one, I didn’t want to watch this before because it would’ve hit too close to home. The show’s about a NEET aka a freeloader (not in employment, education, or training), and I’m... almost that description (but that’s mostly because of the pandemic). Really, this show is riddled with paranoia, and it wants you to really know that with its changing art styles to its cynical script lines to its main character honestly needing some help (seriously, he needs help). I read further (aka spoilers) and realized that I probably won’t have fun with this anime right now, and I will never touch the manga because that stuff is even more insane than its adaptation. NHK ni Youkoso is about people who fall between the cracks of normal standard society and their desire to seek their own normal by any means necessary, and during stressful times, I think it belongs on the backburner.

Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei (2/12)

After seeing how much I enjoyed Kakushigoto (which will be mentioned later, I just thought, “Wow, I want to see that other really famous work!” I didn’t enjoy it at all. I forgot why I put the series on-hold. It’s about a suicidal teacher who will stop at nothing to die then ask people why they almost killed them. Through a bunch of errors, he ends up becoming some sort of a harem king to his students (and he attracts the weirdos). I enjoyed the lengths Studio Shaft went to to make this anime appear the way it does (which helps in a lot of ways), but I just can’t continue with it until a much later date.

Appare-Ranman! (2/?)

I just lost interest after looking at the rest of the cast. I’m all for being vibrant and out there, but some of those character designs imitate more of a “racial stereotype/caricature”. I’m not saying that I dropped the show only because of that (I’m quite dense when it comes to that), but I didn’t like the characters either. I can’t get behind a show that won’t let me enjoy it a single moment over two episodes.

I’ll pick it up again later (probably)

Free! (5/12)

I feel like they’re shoving fanservice a lot. I try to skip every fanservice scene, and I managed to watch up to episode 5 in less than an hour, and I didn’t even get through them all. But I will say that ending is stuck in my head now. (humming)

This show has taken me at least two attempts to watch so far. Let’s see how many more it takes before I finish/give up!

Darker Than Black (18/25)

I’ll probably finish this one for the sake of finishing it. I just find that the episodic nature gets stale after a while, and the overarching story is often disregarded. In exchange, we do get some fun side stories, character development, and world building, but I’d like to settle down too, you know?

Clannad (1/23)

Yeah, I’m doing that now. I’m going to see whether my feels bones are as strong as they were before... after I take a hiatus because I’m not sure if I’m in the appetite for that kind of romance now that I’ve watched two shoujo in a row.

Sousei no Onmyouji (20/50)

I bet you, someone was like, “Let’s throw all these shounen cliches into a pot then see what comes out!” Bruh, this is bordering that story I wrote when I was 14, and I’m not even dissing this anime. I enjoyed it but need a break now. It’s very cliche, predictable, and honestly, I can see why it has such a low rating. Studio Perriot likes cutting corners sometimes with their long-running series (*stares at Naruto*), and this anime is no exception. Sometimes, it feels like a visual novel. “We don’t need to animate anything if she’s so fast that no one can see her.” Dang, but it gets repetitive. It also has a magical girl power that only works when the main couple does it? Cool, but that also gets repetitive. I just didn’t see myself watching the same thing another 30 times (at least right now).

Maison Ikkoku

I’m actually on the fence about continuing this one. It’s really sweet, but I’ve had my fill of romance. I have been wanting to watch some more Rumiko Takahashi works though. There’s no reason for me not to continue this. It gives me strong Princess Jellyfish vibes (which I should also finish).

Recently Finished

Itazura na Kiss

Just... end my suffering. It’s not worth it. The thing about shoujo anime is that I watch it late at night when my brain is at its worst when it comes to analyzing or taking in any emotional circumstances. Then I asked myself, “Would I want any young, impressionable people to watch this?” And my first thought was “F**K NO!” This anime was an absolute trainwreck. As my Discord friend put it “It’s so bad, yet you can’t look away!” But what makes this anime unique? What sets it apart? It shows life after high school. Just like Clannad, it shows that life is more than your secondary education. There is more to life than just being a teenager. I’m not saying these characters ever grew though because that’d be a FAT JOKE.

Episodes 1-13: Girl gives boy a love letter. He laughs and doesn't even want it and goes "no thanks". Girl gets upset. Then they find out they're living under the same roof after the girl's dad made them a house out of popsicle sticks (because the dads are childhood friends). She keeps trying to push herself onto him, and his mom joins in and is plotting so much more than you'd expect. The best part is that this main girl already has a childhood friend who's like "please marry me. I'll cook for you, work for you, take a bullet for you, slice my head off if it means you won't chip a nail--" then the girl replied by chasing after the guy who calls her stupid on a daily basis and genuinely believes she can't do anything.

Episodes 14-25: Guy gets dragged to his own wedding and generally does not care for the girl unless she’s either not looking or is on death’s bed. He practically deserts her every other time, and we’re supposed to think it’s romantic when he finally gives a crap about his wife (even when she’s pregnant). The show constantly reminds you that even other characters have doubts that our main character cares about anyone other than himself and his aloofness. They have a bunch of missed affairs including a hoe that tries to leave her husband on her honeymoon to get with Mr. Aloof and a nursing student that genuinely cares about MC and the fact that her husband doesn’t care about her at all.

The moral of the story of this anime: If you chase after somebody long enough, they will cave in and marry you even if they don’t like you, want you, insult you, bully you, or generally show all the signs of an unwilling partner.

Anyway, this anime is crap. I can’t believe I watched it. I want those few hours back (I fast-forwarded a lot, okay?) I can’t believe I finished it. Looking back makes me want to press undo. Having this under my history is a shame to my family. Even if I was sleepy and generally out of it, that’s no excuse for choosing this. Sayonara

I will say that Daisuke Hirakawa and Nana Mizuki did give good character voices despite the circumstances. That, and I haven’t heard from Hirakawa besides those couple of scenes from School Days (which... is a different type of romance), Free! (which I dropped when his character joined), that gumball scene from Jojo, and that introduction to him being the new Demon Slayer villain. I didn’t realize he was that old though.

Special A

This is one of the anime that my sister watched, and I thought, “I need to be reminded of what a somewhat healthy relationship can be” I wasn’t disappointed because the last anime left such a bad taste in my mouth that literally anything could’ve soothed the aching wound which was bad decision making. Even under regular circumstances, I probably still would’ve enjoyed it, but since it came at the right time, I give it an extra nod of approval. I also never realized that the second opening was inadvertently drilled into my brain because I kept overhearing my sister watching it. Now that I’ve grown up, I realize I was listening to the voices of some of my favourite seiyuu. Go figure.

The story was really sweet with characters that I genuinely liked by the end (not my favourite cast by a very long shot, but it was slightly above average). It was slightly above average for me in a lot of ways (ironically), and it was enjoyable. The art is very fitting for its time, the music was very... ordinary, and the story was simple enough that you knew exactly what was going to happen at any given moment. This show should be titled: Special A(ppreciation for those brave people who have fallen in the friendzone; we’ll get ‘em next time).

Akatsuki no Yona OVAs

Unlike the actual TV series, this stuff actually ends conclusively without ending on the CLIMAX OF THE BIG ARC. SERIOUSLY, I WAS ROBBED. You can say, “There’s a perfectly good manga right there.” Shut up. I want my fight scenes animated with a big helping of a strong female lead. It gave me a sudden appreciation for Hiro Shimono and his character Zeno who literally just inserted himself in last minute in the anime (but these OVAs perfectly explain everything). You probably shouldn’t watch the anime without watching these OVAs because they’re canon, funny, and touching at times. It enhances the series.

According to the animation, we know it can do fight scenes. Give us another season, cowards! Actually, it’s Studio Perriot, so if we ever get it, it might be two stickmen duking it out.

Haikara-san ga Tooru Movie 2

You know, I really enjoyed the movie. The first one. This one? Not so much. Actually, I felt so done. I was looking forward to this so much. It’s like going to a restaurant, expecting really good pasta, and then being served some leaves from the weeds out back. Eventually, it tastes better when you add some dressing and cheese, but it still isn’t a bowl of pasta. This show casts aside everything I like about it (present-tense because they didn’t kill everything of it) and leaves one little inkling of its valued ideas. Instead, we get a romance-chasing movie that feels a bit more like an amnesia fiction that’s slightly higher quality than usual. I can’t say I regret watching the movie. There were some redeeming qualities, but they jumped from a 9/10 to a high 6/10 that managed to squeak itself into an overall 7/10.

(This gif is from the first movie, but I can’t find any from the second movie anyway)

Currently Watching (Not Seasonal)

Samurai Champloo

This anime is a staple of Shinichiro Watanabe, and after this, I will probably watch Cowboy Bebop, Carole & Tuesday, and Space Dandy. I did enjoy Sakamichi no Apollon and Zankyou no Terror.

Plus, after all that romance, I need some samurai slaughter. The fight scenes and the music get me every time. I don’t even need to say anything else about the anime. The fight scenes are enough to watch alone.

#dino watches anime

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