#manipulative bishop
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{You feel as if your being watched. Yet, when you turn around, all you see is your shadow.}
*sigh*
Who is out there?
You may think your hiding but I'm much smarter then you
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Does anyone else feel like while on the outside the lamb appears like the good one and the goat appears like the bad one, the lamb actually has deeply sinister intentions while the goat is actually good at their core?
Idk because of the whole "subverting expectations" of what a sacrificial lamb should be, it feels right that the goat would be the opposite
edit: yeah the term I was looking for was "morally grey" but I forgot mb 😭
#cult of the lamb#cotl headcanons#cotl lamb#cotl goat#unholy alliance#ig also cuz in the game you do have choices#and are encouraged to not do the right thing#as a means to an end#the slaying of the bishops and being a promising vessel also contributes to this#the lamb would manipulate their followers heavily#the goat would be sincere at heart#I love the trope of the innocent looking one being the more evil one#I guess the lamb isnt 'evil' but not necessarily a hero either#just my hc
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Look, I know that you still think about her. I know you had feelings for her. And that you still do. And frankly, I don't think you've been completely honest with me.
#fringe#fringefox#fringeedit#mine:photoset#olivia dunham#peter bishop#look here's the thing#i really wish they'd touched on this a little bit more from peter's pov#like yes it's GREAT that they did so much to show olivia going through a real and actual trauma scenario#and showing that she wasn't okay by any means#but peter was also deceived and lied to and manipulated#i wish we'd gotten to see him heal too :(#in a healthier way than killing shapeshifters i mean
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And what about 046?
Has it not bonded with anyone? It figures. we will have both of them soon enough, keep tracking them closely, and if one of them comes to help 046, take them all.
Agent, it seems 046 has got itself stuck in a trap, monitor it, and see if anyone comes to rescue it.
What is the status of 078 as well agent.
Yes, sir.
Subject 078 seems to be moving around from a few different beings.
I'm surprised really, she doesn't seem to like wondering a lot. But she seems to have bonded with some of them.
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Make Me a Match {5/?}
A/N: The marvel crossover nobody knew they needed. I'm such a Night at the Museum stan. Also: Sorry, not sorry :):
Warning: Dark themes: emotional/mental abuse, manipulation, light stalking.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
| Prev. | | 6 |
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
#marvel#marvel fan fiction#marvel au#peter parker ooc#michelle jones#yelena belova#joaquin torres#kate bishop#tw stalking#tw abuse#tw manipulation#tw blackmail
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I always get what I want, you're here, with me, nobody to save you. Tell me ronin, do you really think they are gonna rescue a brute like you? Someone depressed, someone who lost all their brothers?
((Ooc: I'm sorry for bringing up ronins brothers!))
((Ooc: hello! Totally not here cause I forgot donnie fucking chipped everyone! I have no clue where, but I'll ASSUME! Also, I guess tw: surgery, I guess if you're grossed out by that))
[Bishop stared down at ronin, carefully opening ronins arm slightly, taking the small chip out]
I admire these turtles' abilities. Maybe I shouldn't underestimate them.
Then again, they all will be mine now, and we won't have this problem.
[Once Bishop took the chip out, he stitched the wound back up, careful not to injure ronin further]
Ngh… no they won’t…
never… you’ll never get any of them.. not on my watch…
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More alike than you think | Next
#ts4#indya#black simblr#.... um#y'all feel that?#so the reason my chest was hurting is because#I feel like he just manipulated me too#is..... is Bishop right?#HEP ME#thats not a typo lmao#what is with all these seeds being planted?#is it spring?#DAMN!#ts4 story#sims 4 story#simblr#ch21
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Bishop: Good morning, daughter. It’s time for your exams.
Chr’ell: I don’t like the exams, it hurts, father.
Bishop gave Chr’ell a cold and terrifying look: What did you call me? Father? I’m no father to a monstrous freak like you! And you dare disobey me.
Chr’ell: I..I’m sorry Agent Bishop, it slipped.
Bishop: Don’t ever let that happen, your sole purpose in life is to be a tool. You don’t want to end up like your brethren’s?
#wanted to talk about Chr’ell and bishop relationship#Olivier original name is Chr’ell#Bishop manipulates her#rottmnt olivier#rottmnt agent bishop#tmnt bishop#rottmnt bishop#rottmnt chr’ell#tmnt ch'rell#rottmnt#tmnt 18#rottmnt oc#tmnt oc#oc#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#original character#fanfic#fanfication#rottmnt fanfic
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youtube
#vid recs#master samwise#disney#mary sue#bad writing#strong female character#hollywood#she hulk#kate bishop#pandering#peter pan and wendy#captain marvel#rey skywalker#manipulation#characterization#character arcs#galadriel#victimhood#agency#heroism#arcane#personal growth#humility#be yourself#marvel heroes#role model#anti disney#anti mcu#storytelling#writing
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Oh, hello! It's nice to meet you, mister...? *he offers a handshake*
[[OOC: I normally send on anon so just like- pretend you cant see my username]]
-@marvelousmichelangelo
*Smiling shaking his hand*
Bishop, agent john bishop if you will.
((ooc: me wondering if i should just take insprtation from like all bishops and some fanfics and if bishop will be manipulative lol))
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The Better, Hidden Half
Requested Here!
Part 2 Here >
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader (takes place in The Rookie 1x20-2x1)
Summary: Tim doesn't tell just anyone that he's married. When he's quarantined and his life is threatened by a fatal virus, he asks Lucy to call you, and ends up showing everyone what you mean to him.
Warnings: angst, fluffy comfort at the end, spoilers for episodes 1x20 and 2x1 (this is basically a rewrite, but still includes a brief reference to the suicide line from Tim). reader stress cleans?
A/N: The anxiety/stress cleaning bit is completely self-indulgent; sorry. I tried to manipulate Tim's conversations with Lucy to make them sound more platonic (I don't know if it worked though). I absolutely love this idea and had a ton of fun writing it!🤍
Word Count: 3.9k+ words
Tim Bradford is a man of few words, and he keeps his life separated into two distinct areas: work life and personal life. He tried to bring the two together once, but hated the constant worry that someone from his work life would threaten to hurt people in his personal life or worse, act on their threats. For that reason, for his family’s safety, Tim keeps his life separated, and only a choice few have been chosen to be trusted with a glimpse of both sides of Tim. Angela, Wade, and on occasion, Bishop, see a side of Tim that doesn't exist when he's at work.
✯✯✯✯✯
“How is she?” Angela asks, sitting beside Tim for roll call.
Tim rolls his eyes, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “I trained her, I’m sure she did fine. Better than your golden boy boot, anyway.”
Angela smiles and leans in to whisper, “Didn’t mean Chen.” She turns her attention to Jackson, calling, “80 might be the passing grade, boot, but if you don’t get at least a 90, you should turn in your badge on general principle.”
Tim leans forward to add, “Officer Chen, I will take it as a personal insult if you get anything less than a 93.”
“Yes, sir,” Lucy answers. “Have you figured out what you’re going to do with all your new free time? Might I suggest a book club?”
Angela elbows Tim under the table, and he glances at her quickly, giving her a displeased stare which only makes her work harder to hide her smile.
“What are you talking about?” Tim asks.
“You know, after I pass, there won’t be any more daily evaluations to write.”
“Whether I evaluate you daily or weekly, I will continue to judge you every minute. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
As Grey enters, Lucy turns to Nolan, who whispers, “I can’t believe he’s single.”
“Tell me about it,” Lucy replies, rolling her eyes. “Evaluating a wife daily would cut into his ‘man of honor’ time.”
They silence as Wade directs the TOs to only take easy calls while the rookies finish their last shift before their exams. When Tim assures that he follows direct orders, he keeps his eyes straight ahead, knowing that Angela and Bishop are ready to tease him the moment he looks in their direction.
✯✯✯✯✯
7-Adam-19, silent hold-up alarm activated at Madame Megan’s psychic shop. 2417 Vine. Code 3.
Tim and Lucy enter the back room, taking control of the situation quickly, and he dials in once again to being a cop. Not a family man or anything of the sort. Just a police officer.
As Lucy walks out, and the (fake) psychic hits on Tim, he can only think of one thing. Excusing himself from the room, with a lack of grace that is unlike him, Tim lets his mind wander for just a moment. He thinks of a promise he made, a vow he took, and then his focus is back on his new case, a missing person discovered by a phony Hollywood psychic.
✯✯✯✯✯
Miles away, you are trying to focus on work, though you find it much harder than Tim to simply push your family and your personal life from your mind at a moment’s notice. Fiddling with your necklace, you refrain from grabbing your phone, wanting to text the only person on your mind. Oblivious to the dangers Tim is learning about from the CDC and Homeland Security, you sigh and clench your hands into fists before attempting to focus again.
Before you make any progress on starting the project awaiting your attention, your phone rings. Tim’s name appears on your screen, and you rush to answer, dread filling you. He never calls while he’s working, and you immediately expect the worst. Surely if it were something terrible, Angela or Wade would call you. If Tim is calling, that means he is okay, he is alive.
“Hello?” you ask, releasing a sigh when Tim says your name.
“Are you alone?” he adds, his voice strained.
“Yes. What’s going on?”
“I need you to stay where you are or go straight home. There’s a terror cell with a biological weapon; we’re doing everything we can to find them, but I need to know you’re safe.”
“Tim- yeah, of course. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I- I really can’t say anything else. Not about what we’re doing. Call me if you need anything. Anything at all, okay?”
“I will. Be careful, Tim. I love you.”
“I love you.”
Your phone beeps as the call ends, and your hand finds your necklace again, one finger slipping into Tim’s wedding ring. He leaves it with you each morning, taking it back with gentle touches and loving kisses when he returns each night. Today, all you can do is trust that he is good at his job and that he will protect you and the rest of LA, and then come back to you.
✯✯✯✯✯
Tim and Lucy approach one of the possible addresses in the search for newly discovered members of the terror cell.
“Man. And here I thought that test was gonna be the hardest part of my day,” Lucy muses.
“Best case scenario, it’s tomorrow’s problem,” Tim points out. His thoughts, however, are stuck on you, especially when Lucy asks what the worst case is.
“Took you long enough,” the man, Peter Langston, says as he opens the door. “Bag’s in here.”
“Sir, we’re here about the bus you took from Phoenix,” Tim explains.
“No kidding. I called you about the bag.”
“And what bag is that?”
“I thought it was mine on the bus. I picked it up by accident.” Tim follows Langston into a bedroom as he continues, “Noticed as soon as I got home. Called right away. Still took you guys like six hours to get here.”
“Uh, sir, we’re not here about a bag.”
“So, you don’t have mine? My computer’s in there… I went through this one for an address, and all I found was some weird science equipment.”
Tim glances back at Lucy, who calls for the task force at the mention of ‘weird science equipment.’
“Sir, did you touch anything in there?” Tim asks, pulling gloves on.
“Yeah, I cut my finger going through it looking for an address. Some kind of broken vial.”
Tim’s eyes widen and his breath catches as the man raises his bloodied finger, adding that it hasn’t stopped bleeding since it was cut. Hemorrhaging, Tim knows.
“Everything okay in there?” Lucy calls.
“Yeah. Just stay out there,” Tim demands.
The man coughs, and Tim flinches as blood lands on his neck and up onto his jaw. Looking down at the blood on the man’s shirt, Tim’s mind forgets the divide between work and personal life. He takes the initiative to lock Lucy out, slamming the door on her to keep her safe, but his true concern is you. If something happens to him, who will look out for you? Who will be your shoulder to cry on? In a moment, as the reality of the situation dawns on him, Tim thinks like a husband, and he begins to regret keeping you, his wife, hidden for so long.
“Tim, no!” Lucy yells, but she steps forward too late.
Tim is on the other side of the door, a new division created as others are dissolved.
✯✯✯✯✯
Tim finds baby wipes on a nearby changing table, wiping the blood from his skin as he lies to Langston, telling him it will be okay and distracting him with meaningless treatments to combat the “bad case of the flu the police were warned about this morning at roll call.”
Langston disappears into the bathroom in search of cold medicine, and Tim walks to the door to ask Lucy, “Everything all right out there, Chen?”
“Uh, yeah. The CDC’s on their way,” she responds. “Hey, you need to come out of there.”
“That’s not gonna happen. Got to keep this contained.”
“Tim-“
“It’s gonna be alright, boot.”
Tim knows that Lucy is concerned about him, and he is similarly concerned for her. He feels responsible for her safety as his rookie, but his thoughts toward her are completely and totally different from his fears concerning you, driven by love rather than mutual respect and duty.
“You keep your head in the game, okay?” Tim encourages Lucy. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”
As Tim looks at the blood-covered wipe in his hand, he thinks of you, and how you’ll respond to the potential notification that he didn’t make it, taken from you by the very thing he tried to protect you from. He turns his attention back to the sick man feet away from him before his thoughts spiral. Tim needs you, so he needs to focus and survive.
✯✯✯✯✯
While the CDC is arriving at the house and quarantining Tim and the infected man, you are pacing in your shared bedroom. Memories of you and Tim exist in every inch of this house, and every moment that goes by without an update increases your worry. Walking into the closet, you find one of Tim’s recently worn shirts, changing into it before picking up the remote to distract yourself. With Tim’s pillow clutched to your chest, you try to laugh at the ridiculous sitcom on the screen, but it doesn’t work as well as you hoped.
✯✯✯✯✯
“Officer Chen, you want to tell me what happened?” Dr. Morgan asks, dressed in full hazmat gear as she enters.
“Yeah, uh, the bus passenger mistakenly grabbed the wrong bag, and the virus must have been in it because he coughed up blood on Tim,” Lucy explains.
“Did you get any blood on you?”
“Uh, no. I was out here. Tim immediately closed the door.”
“Smart man.”
Tim hears Dr. Morgan’s comment and clenches his jaw, knowing you would disagree entirely. At least in this case.
“Hey, doc,” Tim greets, standing against the door.
“How you doing?” Dr. Morgan inquires.
“Fine. But Mr. Langston’s struggling a little.”
“Can you describe his condition?”
“Yeah. He, uh, started coughing blood about 20 minutes ago. Now he’s got a pretty wicked nosebleed.”
“Why aren’t they coming in? Where’s my ambulance?” Langston asks.
“It’ll be here any minute. Just… stay put. Save your energy.”
Lucy interrupts to ask, “Where’s the vaccine?”
“Still in the air,” Dr. Morgan says. “Should land in the next hour or so.”
Scoffing, Lucy argues, “You can’t make Tim wait in there. He might not be infected.”
“Sorry. Quarantine rules exist for a reason.” Dr. Morgan turns to the door and asks Tim, “Officer Bradford, do you mind if I put you to work while you wait?”
“You want to know what’s in the bag?” Tim knows digging through the contents is dangerous, but waiting without doing anything won’t increase his chances of getting home to you.
“Yes, I do.”
“Copy that. Chen, I’m gonna turn on my body cam. You can monitor it from out there.”
“Okay. Please be careful,” she responds.
Tim hears your voice in his mind, telling him the same thing. He trusts himself to listen to you more than his rookie.
“All right. Here we go,” Tim says, using his baton to open the bag.
“Wait. Wait. What is that bottle?” Dr. Morgan wonders.
“Looks like the delivery device,” Tim guesses, raising it carefully from the bag. “It’s a misting fan.”
Dr. Morgan calls Homeland Security with the new information on how the terrorists are planning to spread the virus. As Tim continues searching the bag, failing to find identification or target information, Lucy sees Langston raising a chair in the mirror and yells for Tim just before he is knocked unconscious.
✯✯✯✯✯
Your house is as clean as it has ever been. Using your nervous energy and anxiety-fueled need to move, you clean each room in an attempt to keep your mind from worrying about Tim. You could call someone and ask for an update, but they probably can’t tell you anything. The only comfort you have is knowing that Angela and Wade would call you if you needed to know something. The silence is deafening, but it’s also a good sign.
✯✯✯✯✯
“Tim? Tim!” Lucy continues, growing concerned at the lack of reply.
Tim opens his eyes, moving backward quickly when he sees a puddle of blood running toward his face. He sees Langston standing across the room, mumbling about needing to get out as he tries to break the window. Tim tases him as he stands, and Lucy’s concerned yells continue. Covering his face with his shirt, Tim handcuffs Langston to the bed, shuffling backward as Lucy demands his answer.
“I’m okay! I’m okay!” he replies, breathing heavily. “Well, that was fun.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
Tim chuckles. “Kind of depends on your definition of the word.”
While Lucy tells Dr. Morgan to get the vaccine, and the LAPD sends patrol units out to find the other terrorist, Tim keeps his eyes on Langston, but his mind is on you. He should ask someone to tell you and find a way to let you know what is going on, but part of him knows that you are separate from this for a reason. You’re likely worried enough without knowing that Tim’s chance of being infected rises with each moment.
✯✯✯✯✯
Tim watches Langston die, unable to do anything as he begs for help and convulses. Imagining himself in Langston’s place, Tim decides that he has to do something. He can’t go out like that, he won’t, but more importantly, he can’t leave you wondering. If Tim dies today, he is not dying without talking to you one last time, showing everyone around him that you are the best part of him.
He leans against the door in silence until Lucy says, “Hey, I, uh- I just checked with Dr. Morgan. The vaccine’s minutes away.”
“You know, you’re good at a lot of things – lying isn’t one of them,” Tim replies.
“You think I’m good at things? Can I get that in writing? … How are you doing? Are there any symptoms yet?"
"I’m sweating like a pig. But it’s probably because it’s 100 degrees in this room.”
Tim sighs just before Lucy assures, “It’s gonna be okay. I really believe that.”
“I’m sure you do. But if it isn’t-“
“Don’t think like that. It’s-“
“If it isn’t,” Tim repeats. “I’m not going out the way my man Pete here just did.”
“What are you saying?”
Tim sighs again, realizing what he said. He would never leave you like that; he’s a fighter. “I need you to do something for me, Chen.”
“Anything.”
“My- my wife is probably worrying herself sick right now. If this doesn’t end like you think it will, can you tell her that I fought to get home to her? Just- just keep an eye on her if anything happens. Wade and Angela, too.”
“Wife?” Lucy asks softly.
Tim smiles, glad to talk about something other than himself or the virus released in the room with him.
“Yeah. We eloped a while back; Grey, Lopez, and Bishop were there.”
“You’ve never mentioned her.”
“I keep her separated. She - everything in my personal life – would be at risk if there wasn’t a divide there.”
“I get that. What’s she like?”
Tim says your name, closing his eyes and picturing you as he tells Lucy how beautiful, kind, and loving you are. “She’s my better half. I don’t- can’t imagine not going home to her.”
“I promise, Tim. I’m confident you will go home to her, but… I promise.”
“Thank you,” Tim says quietly.
✯✯✯✯✯
“Please tell me that’s the vaccine,” Lucy says when Dr. Morgan returns.
“It is,” she answers quickly, walking toward the door quarantining Tim. “Stand back, Officer Chen. You’re not wearing protective gear.”
“Yeah.” Lucy steps back, hoping Tim is okay, and that he gets to go home to you.
“Officer Bradford, it’s time to let me in,” Dr. Morgan calls.
Tim opens the door, greeting Dr. Morgan before answering that he’s not feeling too bad. She tells him that she’s going to administer the vaccine. “It’s experimental, right?” Tim asks.
“That’s correct. So, we’re just going to have to wait and see what happens. Maybe nothing. Maybe you grow horns. But for now, I’d say you might’ve dodged a bullet.”
Tim looks at Lucy to ask, “Can you get Lopez? Ask her to call for me?”
Lucy nods, pulling her radio out to contact Angela. She knows that Tim will need you, no matter how the vaccine works… or doesn’t.
“Lopez,” she says, sighing before saying, “Tim wants to know if you can call his wife.”
“Of course,” Angela answers. “She’ll be at his side, even if I have to go get her in the shop.”
Lucy smiles at Tim, and he sighs as Dr. Morgan administers the vaccine. There’s more hope surrounding Tim now, but the fight may not be over yet.
✯✯✯✯✯
When you see Angela’s name on your phone, you consider not answering. Biting your bottom lip to hold your tears in, you answer.
“He’s okay,” Angela begins.
You sigh in relief, a few tears breaking free anyway. “Thank you, Angela.”
“The vaccine is experimental, so they’re taking him to the CDC for observation; you can visit with the proper protective gear. Do you want me to come pick you up?”
“I’ll meet you there.”
“See you in a few. And, just so you know, he didn’t call me.”
“Who did?”
“His rookie.”
Angela reminds you that she’s happy to pick you up if you want before ending the call. Tim mentioned me, you think. Then you wonder whether or not that’s a good thing.
✯✯✯✯✯
“Hey, I heard you guys saved the day,” Lucy says, exiting Langston’s house to meet Nolan, Jackson, Lopez, and Bishop.
“It was a group effort,” Jackson corrects.
“Glad you’re okay,” Nolan expresses.
“Me too,” Lucy sighs. “I- I mean that you’re okay, too.”
“How’s Tim?” Angela asks.
“I think he’s gonna be all right. Now, 24-hour observation at the CDC.”
“I’ll bet my pension he just told doctors Tim Bradford does not ride in a wheelchair,” Angela jokes as Tim walks out.
“Only way I’m leavin’ out of here is on my own two feet,” Bishop imitates.
“Don’t you guys have paperwork to finish?” Tim retorts.
Tim looks at Lucy, nodding his thanks before continuing to walk toward the car waiting to transport him to the CDC. He stops suddenly in the yard, growing dizzy before he falls backward onto the grass.
“Officer Bradford!” Dr. Morgan yells.
Lucy, Angela, Bishop, and Jackson run toward him before the CDC holds them back. Someone calls for an ambulance, and Angela backs away to make a call.
✯✯✯✯✯
“What happened?” you ask, answering Angela’s second call.
“Meet us at Shaw instead of the CDC,” she says.
You can hear yelling in the background, and repeat, “What happened?”
Angela says your name, unyielding as she says, “Shaw. I’ll meet you there.”
You inhale deeply, turning toward Shaw. Knowing that you have no chance of beating an ambulance escorted by police cars, you grip the steering wheel, hoping that Los Angeles traffic has grace on you, and you make it to Tim’s side quickly.
✯✯✯✯✯
“Tim better make it,” Jackson says.
“He will.” Angela knows that he’s a fighter, but she also knows that losing him will destroy you. He has to make it for himself, for the police department, and most importantly, for you.
In the ambulance ahead, Tim goes into anaphylactic shock. Lucy helps the paramedics and glances at Tim’s left hand. The line where his wedding ring sits is barely visible, but she whispers for him to keep his promise, to keep fighting.
Once the ambulance and the police cars enter into the hospital parking lot, Nolan notices a woman with a gun, alerting the officers surrounding the ambulance before the firefight starts.
Lucy covers Tim in the ambulance as the paramedics assist him as well as the injured medics. Nolan shoots the woman in the shoulder, but his gun jams as he moves closer to her.
Tim opens the ambulance door, downing the armed woman on a surge of adrenaline. Stepping onto the ambulance driveway, he asks Nolan if he’s okay.
“I should have reloaded on the move,” Nolan mutters. “You?”
“I should’ve taken yesterday off,” Tim answers.
“Alright, Officer Bradford, let’s go,” a nurse says, pushing a wheelchair to his side.
✯✯✯✯✯
“Angela!” you call, jogging to her side.
“Don’t freak out,” she begins, but your eyes widen when you see the bullet holes covering, well, everything.
“Where is he?”
She nods, leading you around her shop. Tim is standing beside Nolan, arguing with a nurse.
“I can walk. Clearly, I’m fine,” Tim argues.
You don’t think about how many people are watching as you walk to Tim’s side. He turns toward you, his eyes softening when he sees you.
“Get in the wheelchair,” you demand.
Tim sighs but does as you say. Nolan and Jackson look at each other in shock, and Lucy smiles as she says, “His wife.”
✯✯✯✯✯
When you walk into Tim’s hospital room, he looks like he’s been waiting for you.
“I’m sorry,” he begins.
“For what? Not listening to the nurse?”
Tim chuckles as he raises his left hand, pulling you to his side. “No. I’m sorry for not showing you off more, for never telling people about us. I worried you; I know I did, and you don’t deserve any of it.”
You lean forward, running your fingers across Tim’s jawline as you smile. “You don’t have to show me off. I know why you do it, Tim. Being a secret, being separated and safe, I get it. What I don’t like is not knowing if you’re okay.”
“I don’t want the separation anymore. You are my entire life, and- I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, but I’m not risking this again. The idea of not making it home, leaving you alone, with no one knowing you or how much you mean to me… that was terrible, and I’m sorry.”
Pursing your lips, you lean toward Tim and look into his eyes before scanning your eyes over his face.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Trying to figure out where the Tim I know went.”
Tim smiles, moving over in the bed and tugging you against his side. He taps your necklace before raising your hair away from your neck. You unclasp your necklace, sliding Tim’s wedding ring off the chain. Tim lays his left hand in your lap, and you put his ring on slowly before kissing his hand.
“I love you,” Tim says.
“I love you. And I accept your apology, even though I didn’t need it.”
“Ready to meet the rest of my-“
“Friends?” you fill in, smiling.
“Colleagues,” Tim finishes, shaking his head as his arm tightens around your waist.
“Thank you for making sure Angela called me.”
“How clean is the house?”
You laugh, pressing your face against Tim’s shoulder. He knows you well, and though you didn't know what was truly at stake over the last few hours, you did miss him.
“Hey, Mrs. Bradford,” Wade greets, smiling as he leads a small crowd of officers into the room. “I have some rookies here who don’t believe someone would marry Tim.”
“I changed my mind,” Tim replies. “Get out.”
You elbow him gently, smiling as you stand. “It's much easier when he doesn’t tell people. No association to him.”
Tim laughs behind you, and after shaking hands and introducing yourself, you return to Tim’s side: where nothing can hurt you, everything is safe, and you’re the most important thing in the world.
#tim bradford x reader#tim bradford x you#tim bradford imagine#tim bradford fluff#tim bradford the rookie#tim bradford#the rookie#requests#fem!reader
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The game of control (18+)
Luigi Mangione x fem!reader smut
SUMMARY : you lose a bet to Luigi and he makes you play a game of chess you can never win.
WARNING: dubcon, noncon, coercion, overstimulation, manipulation, non consensual use of sex toys
a/n: I got inspired by a tumblr ask that was sent to someone else so shoutout to them for the idea and sorry if i ruined it. send me asks if u want me to write anything.
Luigi started with his pawn. e4. That much was always a given. It was his favorite opening move—a subtle declaration of dominance over the game and, by extension, over you. He didn't need to do anything different this time either.
You could predict all his moves, and yet he would still win.
You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, the anticipation and tension making it hard to concentrate.
"Your turn, sweetheart," Luigi whispered, his voice low and dripping with mockery.
Before you could fully process his words, the sudden buzz of the vibrator began.
A soft, involuntary moan escaped your lips. The sensation was overwhelming, and the embarrassment hit you instantly. You covered your face, wishing you could disappear.
Luigi chuckled, his usual condescending amusement evident. His sharp eyes were fixed on you, observing every reaction like a predator.
"Look at you," he teased, his smirk growing. "Already falling apart. And the game's just started."
This wasn't just about chess; it was about control. He had always wanted to see you like this—squirming, struggling, entirely at his mercy. This was his test, his game.
You forced yourself to focus. Moving your black pawn to c5, you met his gaze, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you crumble.
His smirk widened as he turned off the vibrator. Relief flooded through you, and you exhaled deeply, grateful for a brief reprieve.
Your insides were on fire, and you could feel the wetness through your panties. The fact that your body had such a reaction to something you despised was unbelievable.
Luigi made his next move—a calculated knight to f3. You knew what he was doing, the trap he was setting, but before you could even reach for a piece, he turned on the device again, more intense this time.
A sharp whimper escaped you, and your hands trembled as you tried to steady yourself. You clenched your fists, resisting the urge to touch the source of your torment, but Luigi's large hand quickly caught yours.
“What do you think you're doing?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Please..." you whimpered, your voice trembling.
"Giving up already?" he taunted, the corners of his mouth curving into a cruel smile. His words sparked something in you—rage, defiance, or maybe both.
You reached for the board, determined to prove him wrong, and moved another pawn, opening a path for your queen.
Luigi's eyes gleamed as he leaned closer. He always saw through your strategies before you even committed to them. His next move, a bishop, targeted your queen with ruthless precision.
Your breath hitched as realization dawned. You'd walked straight into his trap.
The vibrator surged again, hitting every nerve, and you gasped, your body trembling uncontrollably. Unable to hold yourself up, you collapsed onto the mattress, burying your face in the sheets. Luigi's hand found its way to your hair, his touch gentle, almost tender, as he stroked your head.
"There, there," he murmured, his voice dripping with honeyed mockery. "You're doing so well, my clever girl."
Tears stung your eyes as the sensation overwhelmed you, every fiber of your being on fire. He had always teased you for your inexperience, for being “a virgin,” and now he used it against you.
"It hurts..." you whimpered despite not wanting to, your voice barely above a whisper.
"I know, sweetheart. But you're handling it beautifully," Luigi said, guiding your gaze back to him.
Desperation flared in your eyes as you pleaded with him silently. He stripped away your shorts, leaving you exposed and vulnerable.
"Good Lord," he muttered, amusement flickering in his voice. "You're soaking wet just from this."
The vibration intensified again, and this time, it was more than you could take. Your body convulsed with the unbearable sensation. You tried not to wail too loudly, but you were sure that's exactly what he was trying to hear—and why he was doing this.
Luigi's hand rested on your waist, his fingers brushing your skin in a maddening contrast to the torment. His fingers rubbed around your abdomen and then near your belly button, knowing it would drive you crazy. He knew everything about you. It was impossible to escape his keen observation.
Luigi’s fingers reached further down, encircling your inner thighs. He poked the vibrator, and your back arched as you moved your hands to stop him. He quickly held them above your head with one hand. Then, he pushed the vibrator inside as far as it would go, observing your reactions as he did.
A loud cry escaped your mouth, and this time, you couldn't stop it.
“I know, my love. It's okay, hush,” his words were sweet—a contrast to his rough grip on your hands.
“I love you, you know that, right?” he whispered, getting close to your face as he softly kissed your cheek.
You held in your squeaks, unable to look him in the eyes, which earned a smile from him.
“Please… stop it… please.” You could only speak so much before your words became incoherent with all the sniffling. You knew he had power over you—physical and emotional—and you hated being so weak.
Perhaps that was the wrong thing to say because he only smirked before increasing the speed to maximum and holding your trembling body steady.
“If you can't handle this, how will you ever take me, sweetheart?” he tilted his head to the side, still gripping your hands with one arm and caging your body with the other.
He rolled up your top and kissed your stomach, leaving trails of kisses everywhere, as if to savor every inch of your skin until every spot was marked with his name.
He rolled the top up even further until it was above your head, making quick work of it as he tied your hands with your own clothes.
His fingers traced the outline of your breasts, while the other hand pressed the nipple bud gently through your bra.
He pushed the rest of the fabric up, leaving you bare. Your body shivered, even in the absence of winter-every fiber of your being was on fire, and the heat was palpable.
The trail of his kisses moved upward,
lingering on your breasts as his fingers softly brushed around, getting closer and closer to the sensitive buds with every touch. The sensation made your back arch as you fought against the restraints, helpless to move.
When his fingers reached the most sensitive spot, he brushed gently before squeezing, leaving you an overstimulated mess beneath him.
He alternated between light touches and firmer ones, covering your mouth whenever he bit you and pressing you down on the mattress as you tried to move. his attention was unyielding, ensuring every part of you was aware of him. When he paused, he leaned in to peck your lips softly, silencing any words that might escape.
His gaze held a mixture of intensity and admiration as he looked at you, studying every detail of your disheveled state as if you were a painting he created.
Tear-streaked cheeks, smeared lipstick, and damp lashes painted a picture he seemed to savor.
"Beautiful," he murmured softly, wiping a tear from your cheek. "Now, name your move, and I'll stop."
You weren't sure if you believed him, but you forced yourself to focus through the haze.
"B-block the queen with the... bishop," you stammered, your voice trembling.
Luigi chuckled low in his throat, a gleam of approval in his eyes. "Impressive," he remarked, turning off the vibrator at last. Relief washed over you, but it was fleeting.
You sagged against the mattress, shaking and trying to catch your breath. Your mind was clouded, but you had survived.
Luigi leaned back, smirking as he savored your exhausted state. "I'm proud of you baby" he murmured, his tone sweet yet laced with something darker.
For a moment, you thought it was over.
"Do you want me to take it out?" he asked, his expression unreadable.
You nodded weakly, too spent to speak.
"Hm." He pretended to contemplate. "Why don't you push it out yourself, love?" He brushed a strand of hair from your face as he made the suggestion, his tone teasing but edged with cruelty.
Your eyes widened in disbelief, but you were too tired to protest. With your hands tied and his mood unpredictable, you knew he could leave you like this all night. The more you cried, the more his control over the situation solidified.
He chuckled, his tone softening. "I'm joking."
"You did so well, my brave girl," he said again, stroking your cheek with a tenderness that felt almost parental, though his intentions were anything but pure.
But then his eyes darkened, his smile taking on a wicked edge.
"But you still lost."
He turned his attention back to the board and, with one swift motion, moved his knight into position.
"Checkmate," he declared.
It was over before it even began.
Your lips parted, trembling as you tried to form words, but no sound came.
"You know what that means, don't you?"
#luigi mangione x reader#luigi mangione x yn#luigi mangione fanfic#luigi mangione fanfiction#luigi mangione imagine#luigi mangione headcanons
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*pushes up his glasses*
you will be perfect for the EPFs studying of mutants.
One down, many more to go.
[Bishop snaps his fingers and a group of men drag ronin away]
((ooc: rip ronin disappearing now))
*Appears from the shadows*
you must be apart of EPF… I never had one in my universe…
and I’m guessing you work for Bishop.
-@last-ronin
Yes.
I am Agent Dakota.
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soul bounds entwined
Wanda Maximoff x Fem Reader
Part I, Part III
Word count: 5,248
Warnings: 18+ content, brief masturbation, confrontation, groping, emotional manipulation, brief degrading, edging, angst. Also, Reader kinda uses Billy.
A/N: Oh, my! This was supposed to be second and last part but I'm sorry, I'm leaving the best part in suspense. Thank you 3000 for the support you've given to this little series so far ❤️ See you in part III!
The more you get involved into Wanda Maximoff's life, the more you find yourself increasingly drawn to the woman. Through a series of interactions during family activities, intense romantic and sexual tension develops, culminating in a dramatic confrontation where hidden feelings are exposed.
You met Kate Bishop at High School, a few yesterdays ago. She opened the door for you to photograph galas, events, or photoshoots that her mother, Eleanor Bishop, occasionally participated in. Eleanor only agreed to please her stubborn daughter, who would have hired you regardless.
Despite your young age at the time, you were able to demonstrate to Eleanor -and several others- your almost innate ability to capture the precise peak of every instant. It was as if you had a sixth sense that told you exactly when to pick up your camera and press the button.
You were never more grateful for that gift than when you spotted the figure of Wanda Maximoff hitting the neon green sphere with her racket, so steadily, yet with such elegance that it could easily pass for a dance sequence. That was her, a being who radiated beauty even without trying.
You were barely at the middle landing of the stairs that would lead you to that woman you so longed for, her green eyes had not yet settled on you, for her attention was directed to her opponent. Oh, but she had your full and undivided attention, every action on her part being meticulously scrutinized.
When the redhead was defeated by her son, she let out a sigh of defeat, and moved to pick up the tennis ball that hit the wire and rolled a few meters away from her. It was at the moment when she threw it up, ready to take the first hit, that you pressed the capture button of your old Polaroid camera, which would be your accomplice in freezing that moment inside the piece of zink paper.
You shook the cartridge impatiently, the minutes feeling like hours for the image to be developed. And hell, was it worth the wait, for your eyes were delighted in return.
In your hands was a photograph that only you would have at your mercy, and you couldn't help but consider it a form of unparalleled intimacy that condemned you to an addiction.
Wanda Maximoff with the ball hovering in the air, looking up at said object with her full lips half-open, her racket at shoulder height. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, some of it beginning to stick to her forehead from the sweat that was beginning to be present. She wore a white pleated skirt like yours, and a light blue polo shirt with three buttons open, revealing just a little bit of her collarbone.
You stared at the photograph for who knows how long, the hours feeling like minutes this time.
"(Y/N)! You made it!" The distant voice of your now muse snapped you out of your trance, and you quickly shoved the photograph in your bag. With quick steps, you descended the remaining stairs and walked to where the awaiting family stood.
"I made it," you replied with a smile.
"And you look..." Wanda began the sentence, looking you up and down, repeating the action twice. However, she concluded it with a sigh.
"You look beautiful," Billy completed it. Despite the fact that he vocalized a complete word, a prolonged intake of breath followed by an exhale, held more meaning for you because it came from the woman before you.
"Completely," Wanda confirmed, grinning at you from ear to ear. "That skirt really suits you. You should show off those legs more often."
"Oh, thank you..." your breath hitched, and you felt as if all the blood in your body lost the ability to distribute itself, landing in your cheeks alone, the impact of her words taking on a peculiar dark pink hue.
"Billy, you pull," Wanda said, and that's when you realized he hadn't taken his eyes off you. His perennial stare was undetectable for you as long as his mother was present. "And (Y/N), go sit next to Tommy, feel free to order food or drinks. I'll teach you how to play as soon as we finish this round."
You found yourself nodding quickly, like a submissive and obedient puppy who didn't let out a word and complied to whatever she said.
Tommy greeted you with a tight-lipped smile. Between the two brothers, you found it easier to relax around Tommy. While you preferred Billy, you always had to be on guard against his suggestive remarks, which hindered your ability to fully enjoy his company. On the other hand, Tommy's voice held no hidden intentions, only friendliness at its best despite his reserved countenance.
"Did you play yet?" You asked him, noticing that his hair was still perfectly combed, with no sign of movement or activity.
"No, when my mom teaches you, I'll be your opponent," he replied.
"Then it'll be an easy win," you chuckled, making him laugh back.
"Don't worry, I won't be hard on you..."
"I meant easy win for me," you corrected, eliciting a surprised gasp from him, making you laugh even harder.
"Ah! Is this how things are gonna be between us? Okay, okay," he joked, feigning offense.
"Okay, Billy, rest," you heard Wanda say, once he lost to her.
With quiet gasps, he walked over to the table where you were seated next to Tommy. He reached for the cold water bottle that was resting across from you. He appeared to be upset, and you assumed it was because he lost, not because he witnessed your interaction with his brother.
"Mom, I want to be the one on the other side when you teach (Y/N)," he spoke, after placing the water bottle on the table.
"What?" Tommy exclaimed. "No way, dude. You played the hell out of it, it's my turn."
Before Billy could counter, Wanda interfered, "You wanted to play first, now it's your brother's turn."
Billy snorted, and sat on the chair, pulling his phone out of his bag.
Wanda signaled for you to follow her, and again, you walked behind her obediently, stopping where she indicated. Tommy positioned himself on the opposite side, stretching out his arms.
"All right, ready?" Wanda asked, handing you her racket. When you took it, you were surprised to see that it was heavier than she made it seem. The way she was handling it earlier made you think it would be featherlight.
"Yeah, ready," you could only hope that you would at least look your best while failing at trying to play the sport.
You let out a small gasp as she suddenly positioned herself behind you, her front pressed against your back. A stream of torturous cold sweat invaded every corner of your body as you forced yourself to keep your sanity.
"We're here to have fun, not the international tennis league," she said, guiding your arm with the racket at the appropiate height. "That said, don't worry if you don't get it perfect on the first try, okay?"
"Sure," you nodded, taking a deep breath. Maybe she noticed your nervousness, and thought it was due to the circumstances, when really, that became irrelevant to you when her body was pressed behind you.
"Take it firmly, with two arms or with one, whichever you feel better," she continued, and you opted for the second option, this being the one that would give you the most freedom if you needed momentum and fluidity.
Noting your choice, she added, "Good. I advice you to use your whole forearm. You're a beginner, this thing is heavy, and we don't want your wrist to dislocate."
"Oh, I was thinking of doing that anyway," you laughed. Using your wrist alone with such a heavy artefact would affect you considerably. She was right.
Wanda laughed softly, her breath colliding against your ear as she did so.
"Now, legs, they need to be apart and parallel," she continued, grabbing the inside of your right leg, a little above your knee, and positioned it in front of hers, so that you mimicked the distance she had. "Like this, good girl."
You swallowed dryly.
You weren't sure if she was simply too trusting or if, in your wildest dreams, she really wanted to bewilder you and have you under her spell.
"Finally, don't be too rigid. Let your body follow its course every time you stroke," she withdrew from behind you, and you felt the emptiness of her closeness linger on you. "Let the movements flow. But keep your posture as straight as you can."
"Noted, I got it."
At first, every time Tommy threw the ball at you, it seemed to take on a life of its own when you hit back. It bounced off the net, or to the side, out of your reach. Frustrated, you looked to Wanda, for help.
"Don't be discouraged, (Y/N). You just need to adjust your position and the angle of your racket a little,” Wanda said, approaching you.
She stood behind you once again, and gently guided your arm, showing you how to hit the ball. “Try to keep your eyes on it and bend your knees a bit for stability.”
Tommy threw again, and this time the ball came closer to you. With Wanda's help, you managed to hit it well, sending it straight towards where Tommy was standing.
“Well done!” Tommy exclaimed, surprised.
Wanda smiled, “Now you try it on your own, (Y/N)."
You took a deep breath and prepared for Tommy's next pitch. This time, you concentrated on following the trajectory of the ball and positioned your racket at the right angle.
You did it! The ball landed right where Tommy was expecting it.
“Excellent, you're catching it fast!” Said Tommy, excited. “I think you'll soon be an ace.”
Little by little, Wanda let you manage the game on your own, intervening only occasionally with advice. Your strokes became more and more precise and powerful, and Tommy had to work harder to keep up.
Wanda no longer considered it necessary to offer you her help, so she sat at the table next to Billy, with dark sunglasses covering her gaze, and although you had decided not to turn around to avoid distractions, her penetrating gaze was able to pierce through every fiber of your being.
You could feel her intense and overwhelming presence, as if a magnetic force pulled you towards her. Your heart was beating with desperation, wishing to turn your head and gaze at her beauty, but you knew you had to maintain focus and not be too obvious.
In the ninth round, Tommy failed to reach the ball and hit the shot needed to keep the streak going, so you decided to suggest to take a break instead of continuing to play. He agreed, and the two of you headed over to the table where Wanda and Billy were.
“I ordered some cold water and snacks,’ Wanda announced, pointing to the tray that contained them.
“Oh, thank you very much,” you replied with a smile. After all the physical activity, the thought of having some cold water was like heaven.
When you sat down, Billy looked away from his phone and smiled at you before placing it face down on the table.
He was about to say something when his brother joined you at the table. "You're a natural, (Y/N)! I must admit, I let you win at first to cheer you on, but then I had a hard time catching up,” he praised you as he picked up a bottle of water and drank almost half of it. In a way, you were grateful for that interruption, as it saved you from having to deal with Billy's corny flirtations.
“Yeah, you were awesome,” Billy added, bummed that maybe Tommy took the words right out of his mouth.
“Thanks, guys,” you replied with a smile. “I had the best teacher, giving me the push I needed,” you turned to Wanda, pining for the older woman's attention again.
And you did, when she leaned a little closer to you and said softly, “Oh, honey, and I had the best student,” she winked at you from under her shades, which you could see through the sunlight.
Billy sat next to you, trying to look gallant. “Well, you know, I could give you a ‘push’ too if you wanted one. What do you say, gorgeous?” He said with a crooked grin.
You couldn't help but laugh at Billy's awkward flirtation.
Wanda shot Billy a stern look. "All right, lover boy, you've got your energy back.
Time for you and me to play a little,” she interferred, taking his hand and pulling him away from you.
Tommy, who watched the interaction, rolled his eyes playfully and sat next to you.
"Forgive my brother," he apologized. "You're the first girl he's ever liked, and he has zero experience in how to behave with one."
You brushed it off with a little wave of your hand.
If he wasn't so charismatic, you probably would have cut ties with him... or maybe that's what you forced yourself to believe, because by being around him, you had opportunities like this, to share with his mother beyond work issues.
"What about you, any person who caught your eye?" you questioned.
"There is a guy, David, yes..." he confirmed, causing you to reposition your chair to turn towards him, showing interest. He laughed softly at your action. "I won't elaborate."
"Tommy, Tommy, Tommy," you clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, shaking your head. "I'm a gossip enthusiast, and you can't tell me about a guy without blurting out more details," you replied, but realized that perhaps, it was best to respect his decision. "But it's okay. I understand if you decide not to share. I won't force you."
He sighed, "It's just... everything that shapes me as a person; my hobbies, my passions, my career, my internship, I share with my brother," he shrugged. "Don't get me wrong, I adore him madly. But at least, this is very much my own thing," he sighed a second time, louder this time, watching his brother, who was occasionally observing the interaction, but redirecting his focus to the game.
“I totally understand," you nodded. It was often the case that with a pair of twins, it was more usual to share common grounds and live together almost as if they were one person in two bodies. Sooner or later, there came that desire for individualism, which Tommy found in keeping aspects of his life to himself. "I'm so glad that you are in that process of detaching from your brother and forming your own path, as your own person."
"Sure as hell I am," he giggled. "I have my own friends, I had a girlfriend named Lisa for a while," he continued. "About both, Billy constantly commented on, whining about why I managed to fit in at college and he didn't, what I had that he didn't. And it was always my duty to comfort him," his expression took on a lingering hint of annoyance.
“Must've been so hard to always be the one comforting him, especially when you were just trying to enjoy your own life and relationships,” you nodded with sympathy.
Now you understood why Billy seemed to want to hog your attention, and was so annoyed when Tommy, with his extroverted nature struck up a conversation with you. Billy felt like he was constantly in Tommy's shadow, always comparing himself and feeling inadequate. He craved validation and reassurance, seeking comfort in your friendship whenever he felt overshadowed. You were the only person he was starting to form bonds with besides his brother and mother.
"It may sound selfish, not to have included my brother to my group of friends when many do that."
"No," you replied firmly. "As you said earlier, it's your own thing."
"Thank you... that's what my mother tells me," he confessed, and you were glad to know that the redhead was comprehensive in that regard. "She's a twin too, so she understands the dynamics of having a close sibling relationship while still needing your own space and identity. She ended up being way different than her brother, but both were happy for each other.”
You knew about her brother, Pietro Maximoff, that he died when the Avengers fought Ultron in Sokovia. You saw it in one video of ‘50 things you didn't know about Wanda Maximoff’, at 3AM when you couldn't mitigate the intrigue she left.
And from all that you learned, not only was she talented and charismatic, she also carried a profound strength in her heart, from which she emerged stronger. She was now enjoying the empire she built with the stones life threw at her… quite literally, the mind stone.
"If Billy isn't happy for you, his emotions are not his responsibility," you stated. "In fact, nothing regarding him is your responsibility. You enjoy what you were able to attract into your life."
"Thank you, I'm glad someone is reassuring me that I'm on the right track," he replied, pulling a bag of chips that was resting on the tray. He gestured you to grab one as well, so you did. "A few months after my first breakup, I developed this crush on a girl named Kate, and he never knew. It was refreshing, keeping it to myself, without Billy turning it back on him and how much he hated not even having a girl he liked."
"And what happened between you and this girl, Kate?"
"Oh, well, it was pathetically movie-like," he chuckled. "After crushing from afar, I saw her outside campus. I was very determined, walking towards her to say hi, when a blonde girl came on a bike, got off and went to kiss her. So I stepped back.”
"Wait... isn't that Kate Bishop by any chance?" You asked, the first name, college and blonde girlfriend being enough characteristics that fit your best friend.
"Yes! Kate Bishop!" He confirmed, surprised. "No way... do you know her?"
You let out a laugh at the coincidence, shaking your head softly in disbelief.
"She's my best friend since high school," you nodded.
"Oh, shut up!" He exclaimed loudly. "There is no way!"
Wanda Maximoff's son, studying at the same university as your best friend, Kate, who he used to have a crush on.
Kate, whose girlfriend, Yelena Belova, was the younger sister of Natasha Romanoff, one of the Avengers, of which Wanda Maximoff was a member until the Sokovia Accords marked a new beginning in her career.
All this time, you were closer to Wanda than you thought.
Billy noticed the friendly and amusing exchange between you and Tommy, so he proceeded to purposely miss on the present round, with the excuse to approach the table again where the two of you were.
"What's so funny?" He asked, so innocently, you thought, because you were so oblivious to the look on his face at every single thing you were doing.
Wanda followed him.
Evidently, she wasn't born yesterday, and she knew she had to be on the lookout to intervene in any recklessness, a product of that jealousy you were already aware of, that he was experiencing towards his twin brother. It was funny, nevertheless, that he thought he had to compete against his brother for your attention, when truly, it was her mother the one and only threat.
"Oh, (Y/N) has a best friend, Kate Bishop, who studies at our university. I've seen her a couple of times," Tommy explained. "We were just laughing about how small New York is."
Billy nodded slowly, arching his eyebrows.
"That's so funny!" Wanda spoke, a smile plastered on her face, instantly melting you. Whenever she did so, her nose scrunched a little in the process, and some dimples on her cheeks made themselves present.
Oh, how you longed for her to be so close to you, sharing gestures and glances that seemed to connect you both in a unique way. Yes, they may have been mere human interactions, but you treasured each of those little things, those details that, to the eyes of others, might go unnoticed.
"Actually, her girlfriend, I'm sure you know her," you replied to the older woman. "She's Natasha's younger sister, Yelena."
"Noooooo!" It was her turn to be surprised and laugh, just like you and Tommy were a few minutes ago.
"I know! Unbelievable!" You responded, her laughter contaging you like a deadly virus.
"Yelena, I've met her a couple of times,” she recalled. “When we have one of those friendly get-togethers at the compound, I've had the chance to see her twice or thrice," Wanda commented to you, and seemed to think for a moment. "Hey, next time, you and Kate should join us. Since you and I aren't strangers anymore, and Kate seems to be familiar with the rest of the team."
You laughed instantly, remembering the anecdote of Kate meeting her idol, Clint Barton, for the first time.
"I'm serious, darling," Wanda stated, probably believing that your little giggle was due to disbelief and not the memory that popped into your mind.
"Oh, no, it's just… I remembered how pale Kate looked when Yelena took her to meet Natasha, unbeknownst to her that Clint would be there too," you clarified.
Yelena had invited Kate to a restaurant a little way out of town, in order to introduce her to her sister, Natasha. Things between them had already become serious like that.
Your best friend was a nervous wreck before Yelena picked her up, repeatedly stating that she was not mentally prepared to meet Natasha Romanoff, whom she also admired. She was in for a big surprise, when not only was Black Widow waiting for them, but Hawkeye as well.
You expected to receive a text, or at most a phone call with all the details. However, hours later, the couple arrived at your flat. Yelena walking hand in hand with a completely mesmerized and shocked Kate, with a lost gaze and unable to spill a single word.
"Wow, I can only imagine..." Wanda mused, empathizing with your best friend's feelings at such an experience. As she sat down across from you with a clear determination to continue the conversation, you couldn't help but feel a surge of triumph. It was then that you regained awareness of your surroundings and realized that the twins had left you alone who knows how long ago, opting to play a round together instead. “But seriously, I would love it if you came.”
Wanda Maximoff: (Pauses).
Tommy Maximoff: That’s… (sighs) that’s when the incident happened.
(Y/N) (Y/L/N): Did Tommy say that? (laughs) No, the incident was always that Billy started to get the wrong ideas. Of course, I didn't have the heart to reject him, but I gave very clear signals. At the compound, that’s where it ended.
Tommy Maximoff: There is no worse blind than the one who does not want to see.
(Y/N) (Y/L/N): I always carry my Polaroid camera with me, no matter where I go. I am fascinated by being able to capture the important moments of my life with that particular photographic style and store them in a special album of memories. Maybe it sounds old-fashioned, but over the years, you realize the almost magical power that photographs have to transport you back to those frozen moments in time. Pressing the shutter button at that country club became a sort of curse, as I couldn't help but yearn to be teleported back over and over to those unforgettable moments with her.
When you finished working with Wanda, you already had a large number of photographs of her. A collection, you could call it at this point.
You didn't pass up the opportunity to take pictures in every corner of the tennis court, every time she and Billy played together, and you'd even have more if you'd taken pictures when she played against Tommy as well, but you didn't want to expose him to a jealous feud with Billy.
Likewise, you were more than content with the other occasions; like your personal favorites, the family dinners at which you were frequently included. After the food was served, you proceeded to ask the three of them to pose before eating, just so you could have the privilege of watching that gorgeous face for as many seconds as you wanted later at night.
It always amused you to see him smiling in all the photos, so flattered thinking that he was the one you wanted to immortalize in the memories.
The end justified the means, right?
You let out a small gasp, arching your back in pleasure when, as you stilled your needy entrance, you grabbed another photograph, the bonfire photograph...
"Oh, Wanda!" you moaned, feeling your climax about to burst, clenching around your own fingers.
"Why is it that you only take pictures of Billy when I'm around?" Wanda confronted you, once the twins went to sleep. A great day at their University awaited the next day, unlike Wanda and you, who could stay awake as long as you wanted.
Wanda occasionally held bonfires in the garden of her house. She cordially invited you to join them, and after a few minutes, you were all dressed up and on your way to her house, when you were already comfortable in your pajamas, ready to get into your bed.
And once you were alone, she placed her chair in front of yours, and asked you that question that caught you off guard. You had just taken a picture of her with the twins before they left.
"What?" You exclaimed, pretending to be clueless to buy yourself more time to come up with an excuse.
"Or better yet, why don’t you ever accept seeing Billy exclusively? Only when I'm present," she repeated, leaning towards you.
The air thickened around you, each breath torturous as if you were inhaling the very essence of your dread. Your heart pounded, a relentless drum echoing in the cavern of your chest, each beat reverberating through your bones and threatening to shatter your composure.
"I want Billy as a friend, I don't want me accepting outings or taking pictures of him alone to get him more excited than he probably is," you replied, almost all in one breath.
Wanda's eyes narrowed, her gaze piercing through your weak defenses, "Are you sure that's the only reason, (Y/N)? Or is there something else you're not telling me?"
You felt exposed, as if she could see right through your clumsy excuses.
"I... I don't want to give him false hope," you hesitated, trying to maintain your composure.
"False hope?" Wanda scoffed, her tone full of skepticism. "Then, why taking those pictures in the first place? Who do you wanna see, hm?"
You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat growing by the second. "It's… memories," you protested, but the conviction in your voice was waning.
Wanda tilted her head, scrutinizing you with a mix of frustration and something else you couldn't quite place.
"Bullshit!” She exclaimed. “Why do you always make sure I'm around? Is it because you need a buffer? Or is it because you're more interested in someone else?”
Her words were heavy and loaded with implication. Your mind struggled to form a coherent response, but the truth was clawing its way to the surface, threatening to break free.
“I...-"
She didn't let you finish, "Is it me?" She insisted. "Are you using Billy to get closer to me?"
"Wanda, please, it's not like that," you pleaded, but her words had struck a nerve. She could sense it, therefore, she leaned in even closer, her lips almost brushing your ear. You felt your skin reacting through goosebumps immediately.
"Stop lying. You think I can't see through you, like my son? You're pathetic, hiding behind your excuses. If you have something to say, say it now," she hissed, her breath hot against your skin.
You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat almost choking you.
"No, nothing..." you stammered, but the words wouldn't come.
Wanda's grip on your knee tightened further, her nails digging into your skin.
"You're infuriating. If you can't even be honest with yourself, how do you expect to be honest with anyone else?" She said, her voice a low growl.
“I… I better go,” was all you managed to respond. You never realized how weak you were until the Wanda Maximoff was so close to you, forcing you to face the consequences of your impulsive and not-so-wise acts.
Her eyes glinted with a dangerous determination. She wasn't going to let you off the hook so easily. Her hand slid from your knee up to your thigh, keeping you in place.
"You think you can keep hiding? From me?" Her voice was a seductive murmur that sent shivers down your spine.
You tried to pull away, but her grip tightened. "Wanda, please," you whispered, your voice trembling. You refused to do this at all costs, even though it was what you deserved.
"No more lies. I want the truth, and I'm going to get it," her other hand moved to your waist, pulling you even closer to her.
Your heart pounded wildly, your body not knowing whether to tremble of fear and desire.
"I... I don't know what you want me to say," you stammered, trying to keep your composure.
Wanda's hand moved higher up your thigh, her nails lightly grazing your skin through the fabric. "Oh, but you do," she countered. "You're scared, aren't you? Scared of what you feel. Scared of what I might do if you admit it. So scared that my poor, poor son has to suffer from your cowardice."
You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat almost choking you.
"No, it’s..." you began.
And once again, she didn't give you a chance to finish. Her hand moved to your chin, tilting your face up so you were forced to meet her gaze.
"Look at me, darling. I want to see your eyes when you tell me the truth," she demanded, her voice a low growl.
Your eyes met hers, and the intensity of her green orbes was almost too much to bear.
Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision.
"I... I can't," you whispered, your voice barely audible.
Wanda's grip on your chin tightened, her nails digging into your skin. "Yes, you can. And you will," she insisted, her voice brooking no argument. Her other hand moved between your legs, pressing your core with a tight squeeze, making you yelp and let the first few tears spill out of your eyes. You felt so helpless, regretting every life decision that led you to this very instant.
"Do you want me?" She questioned, with a voice so firm it sounded more like a statement.
"Yes," you finally admitted.
Wanda's eyes shone with satisfaction, "Oh, my good girl. That's all I needed to hear," she murmured, her lips brushing against yours.
Her hand moved from your chin to the back of your neck, pulling you into a searing kiss that left you breathless. You could only describe it intense and fervorous, her tongue exploring every inch of your mouth, without even asking for permission. Just taking you as if she had always owned you, and maybe, she did.
Just as you were about to lose yourself in her lips, Wanda abruptly pulled away, leaving you gasping for air.
"This is your punishment for toying with my son's feelings," she established. "You don't get to have me, not after what you've done. Now go."
#marvel#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x y/n#wandavision
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Checkmate ♚
Apparently a temporary AR (Otome) game is coming soon and the artwork for it is just breathtaking! It is also full of details I want to explore OF COURSE. My brain is doing tetris things again, oops.
Looking for a senseless meta about chess pieces? You're in the right place, come on in~
>> Chess Theme
White vs Black
The first topic is obviously the chess theme. Of course, this part is to be taken with a grain of salt since the pieces aren't correctly disposed on the board. However, the characters themselves are walking on their respective squares except for Vein (because he's all powerful and he's above your stupid rules. Probably). Notably, Liu Xiao himself seems to be leaving a white square. And if there is any meaning to it, I'd like to believe it makes a gray character out of him.
Now, what can we say about the chess pieces themselves?
White: rook, pawn, knight
Black: rook, mystery piece, king
Each character is paired with a chess piece.
The most reassuring clue to me is that a white piece has been given to Xia Fei. Which, there is a fat chance this makes an ally out of him. He might be only a Pawn ♙ for now. For those who are not familiar with chess, a Pawn can only move ahead, never back, one square at a time. It has some cool moves too but it depends on the game you want to play. If the path is open, a Pawn can reach the other side of the board, turning it into a Queen ♕. If a Pawn can only move ahead in small range, a Queen literally rules over the whole board. She's quick, vicious and dangerous once she has enough space to move as she pleases. Of course, he can also be a mere Pawn, a tool to manipulate Lu Guang and Cheng Xiaoshi.
[Edit: since I always turn mine into Queens because I like to inspire fear and admiration from my brother, a Pawn can also turn into a Rook, a Bishop, or a Knight. I like to think of Xia Fei as a Queen but it's very interesting that he could turn into either Vein/CXS, Liu Xiao or Lu Guang by the end of Yingdu Chapter. ]
Cheng Xiaoshi and Vein both getting paired with a ♖ Rook ♜ could mean they use the same kind of power or are equivalent in some ways. Rooks have a large range, can move horizontally and vertically, ahead or back. They are better used when paired with other pieces, though, cause a lonely Rook ♖ is an easy pray. I think the main focus here is the similarity more than the piece itself. Lu Guang seems to be the one being punished and haunted, but Vein probably offered his power to Cheng Xiaoshi (or Lu Guang, according to the last Yingdu Chapter PV). My personal theory is that Vein mirrors or shadows Cheng Xiaoshi's shape because he is the source of his power. Vein's position, if there is any relevance to it, keeps Lu Guang's Knight ♘ from moving at the center, his natural and most efficient position.
Toppled King
Liu Xiao has two pieces by his side, a King ♔ and a mystery piece. The merch revealed the later to be a Bishop ♝.
Note that only amateurs tend to topple the King. It is regarded as some kind of pop culture-only approach to chess. Because of this, let's take a look a what an actual checkmate is (where we don't get to step on the vainquished).
Checkmate is any game position in chess in which a player's king is threatened with capture and there is no possible escape. In chess, the king is never actually captured. Checkmating the opponent wins the game. The player loses as soon as their king is checkmated. In formal games, it is usually considered good etiquette to resign an inevitably lost game before being checkmated. (cf. wikipedia)
If Vein, the current character we might recognize as the ultimate villain of the season, is only a Rook ♜, equivalent to Cheng Xiaoshi, who does the King ♔ represent? My personal opinion is Time, Fate itself. The song "Mastermind" supports this theory, and Lu Guang himself really is defying the natural order to save Cheng Xiaoshi, after all. It would make perfect sense. Stopping the clocks at a tournament is the sign of surrender. So basically, the game is over when one gives up and stops when the King has nowhere to go.
The character of Liu Xiao is given a lot of care in this specific artwork. He actually always stood out, since his very first appearance in the season 2 artworks, walking past Lu Guang and Cheng Xiaoshi's portrait, looking away from us. Here, again, he's not interested in the audience, focuses on the photograph of what fans reckon as Lu Guang from "Dive Back in Time".
The truth is, he's playing the long game, he has no time to spare, and he regards people as puppets. There has been theories about him having a hidden agenda, independently of Vein, using/working with Li Tianchen and Li Tianxi for his plan. His intervention in "Trial Train" speaks volume of his strategic mind, "they wanted to escape but didn't realize I blocked the exit a long time ago". Also, one hundred years wouldn't be enough to escape.
This merciless sharpness makes the Bishop perfect for Liu Xiao. Funny story, the Bishop ♝ is not actually a priest, but it represents a war elephant. Historically, the war elephant's main use was to charge the enemy, break their ranks, and instill terror and fear. That's fitting.
Another possibility regarding the toppled King could be that it refers to Liu Xiao's background. The fallen piece could be a resolved situation but the motivation behind Liu Xiao's intent to manipulate the timelines. Perhaps he played this game before and lost. Does Lu Guang know him or is Liu Xiao a mere stalker? Did they play this same game together or against each other?
There's a lot that can be speculated but it is hard to say what these pieces represent for now. As I said before, this read is based on popular imagery of what chess is, not on the actual strategy on the board itself. Secondly, these three new characters we have yet to meet, they don't have a defined role in the canon, not until Yingdu Chapter finally aires.
>> Tokens
Each character is giving a object. I guess it might be relevant to the type of gameplay the AR game will offer but for the sake of this meta, we're still gonna try to understand why those in particular.
Cheng Xiaoshi has a camera. I don't think it deserve further analysis, his powers exist through the lens after all.
Xia Fei has a clock. Guess the time? 10:10. For those unaware, it is a very recurrent time. Put the promotional poster aside, I recommend you pay attention to the time on the clock in the Studio, above Lu Guang's head, right before the gang gets a ominous call from Xu Shanshan's phone at the end of 1x09. If it should mean anything about Xia Fei himself: I won't say it enough but, really: DO NOT TRUST HIM. Or, you know, perhaps he's doomed: it is worth mentioning that except for Xia Fei's Pawn ♙, each character is affiliated to a piece which can move forward and backward on the board.
Liu Xiao has a gear. I find this one intriguing because, so far, this object has belonged to Cheng Xiaoshi's imagery (cf. "BREAK!"). For someone on an ambitious project such as controlling timelines, he is giving a small tool that cannot be used on its own, is part of a machine. Could be relevant to the way he does things, never getting his own hands dirty, working through others. Or it could be that he's himself just another player, played by Fate. Or perhaps, he has the missing piece that Lu Guang needs to save Cheng Xiaoshi, who knows?
Vein is already using his own item: the pipe. He's the only one owning his object and aware of it.
>> The Case Study of Lu Guang
Because of course, our favorite character is actually the shadiest of all, I will dedicate a whole section about him specifically. Why do I insist on calling Lu Guang shady? We know and we see his chess piece is white. But you have to take a closer look to make out the White Knight ♘. The value of a Knight ♘ is equivalent to the Bishop's ♝. But ultimately, its worth less than Cheng Xiaoshi's Rook ♖.
L shaped path
Moving only in an 'L' shaped path, Knights ♘ are the most effective from the center of the board. This is because they get a broader reach in all directions from the central part.
Now, this is very important. Why should it be a mystery that Lu Guang's piece is a knight? What is a Knight ♘? The answer resides in the mechanism of his maneuver.
Part of the idea of the knight maneuver is to flank. And since the Knight is not a horse but a man on a horse, the odd maneuver reflects the knight's ability to guide the horse he's riding (to an extent). In other words, since the Knight comprises two entities (the man riding the horse), the move should sensibly consist of two parts as well, to reflect the added agility of the athletic horse. Conversely, the Knight has access to a maximum of 8 squares (as opposed to the "equal" Bishop's maximum of 13) because the horse is still an animal with a mind of its own.
Note that if you place a Knight ♘ somewhere on the margins, its efficacy will diminish exponentially. Additionally, if he only moved two squares, straight or diagonally, the Knight ♘ would always be restricted to the color squares that he started the game on.
Lu Guang being the Knight ♘ doesn't only means that he moves unconventionally. It is reflective of his duality. Perhaps, the fact he's using his power and Cheng Xiaoshi's. There is another aspect of him we could address here:
Burning Palace
youtube
For one thing, "BURNING PALACE" brings back the theme of strategy board game with the checkers this time (you see black pieces falling). It also introduce the Four Heads from playing cards. The fact they bothered to mention it implies a Fourth character.
Xia Fei: ♠
Liu Xiao: ♣
Vein: ♦
The fourth color ♥ is missing and I'm secretly convinced that it's Lu Guang's color.
Enygmatic Tokens
The portrait behind Lu Guang is Lu Guang himself, from "Overthink". This image appears in the first bridge, when the lyrics goes "how did my sight got stolen once more?", superposing Lu Guang's face with mysterious shapes, erasing his eyes/power. This particular line comes to confirm what we already know: Yingdu Chapter isn't a resolution, let alone a happy ending, but a repeat of a tragic event in an unchangeable node. The end is the same, once again. Lu Guang's hope and happy ending has been stolen once more. And STOLEN also implies that there is an intent behind this failure.
A portray is still a photograph though, and it can be used to dive back in time.
What is the most curious to me is the familiar eagle on Lu Guang's chest. Eagles belongs to Cheng Xiaoshi's imagery so why does Lu Guang is wearing them here?
An interesting take would be that Yingdu Chapter isn't actually from Lu Guang's perspective, but from Cheng Xiaoshi's, diving in a picture taken by Lu Guang. This would be some kind of plot twist and would definetely makes the big reveal easier but not less painful.
I'll probably make a whole meta about this symbol at some point but in the meantime, I'll let you know the eagle is associated with strength, power, wisdom, and freedom. The eagle's ability to soar high in the sky was believed to be a symbol of divine protection and spiritual guidance. Additionally, eagles are tied to the sun. Some people see them as signs of a bright future on the horizon. As a symbol of light, they embody both the intensity and heat of the sun as a fearsome force of nature, as well as the warmth and benevolence of the heavens.
This positive symbolisms are deeply rooted in Cheng Xiaoshi's nature, but if Yingdu Chapter actually brings us back to one earlier repeat, we can assume that Lu Guang had initially a brighter outlook on his mission.
The glasses are back and I'll say it again: once is weird, twice is a coincidence and thrice it's a pattern. The portrait shows Lu Guang without eyes but his item is a pair of glasses. Might be a subtile hint of denial there. As far as glasses go, pink is a peculiar color. It helps to 'voir la vie en rose', as the french says: "look at the world through rose-coloured glasses." Meaning, being delusional.
Might it be the eagle or the glasses, I'd say they're both representative of Lu Guang's state of mind at the time: hopeful.
~
[Edit: I recommend you take a look to these threads regarding this very same artwork: | X | X | X | I don't agree with everything but it's always cool to have other perspectives.]
#link click#shiguang dailiren#时光代理人#lu guang#cheng xiaoshi#meta#liu xiao#xia fei#vein#yingdu chapter
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hey another anon following up on Machete info, /why/ is Machete so disliked by his peers and held so tightly by the church?
I'm simplifying a little, but a lot of it has to do with how much of an outsider he is in his circles. The college of cardinals is composed of nobility and a significant portion of it operates on nepotism. Machete managed to get in mostly on his own merits. He doesn't have prestigious background, but he was mentored by an esteemed priest (and later bishop), studied and worked exceedingly hard and had excellent recommendations and a reputation as a dedicated, diligent, meticulous and obedient person. He landed a position as the Pope's personal assistant and was eventually created a cardinal by the said Pope. He has low tolerance for those of his peers that are incompetent or lazy, play dirty or abuse their power. He despises the flagrant corruption going on around him and actively tries to expose and weed it out whenever possible. His colleagues find him suspicious, overly strict, hard to work with and think he's either a deceitful social climber who got into his position by manipulating and sucking up to the Pope, or a foolish lowborn who doesn't know what he's gotten himself into.
After the Pope dies Machete loses his title as the secretary of state and is relegated into inquisition duty, which doesn't do his severe public image any favors. He starts to get infamous among laity as well, people generally don't think fondly of someone who deals with and oversees trials, excommunications and executions. Since he doesn't have a powerful family to back him up and he's never been that good at making allies, he's an easy scapegoat whenever other cardinals need someone to take the blame for their numerous scandals.
Machete was raised in a monastery after being left there by his parents at age 3 or 4 due to his sickliness, and started his training as a priest's apprentice at age 7 or so. The church has been a constant presence in his life for as long as he can remember and the only source of care and security he's had. He was driven to become a priest because he believed it would make him worthy of keeping around and provide him the respect, purpose and protection he needed.
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