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a-libra-writes · 3 years

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Hcs on how would Stannis/Sandor/Roose act with their toddle/baby? What if they had to take care of them for the day for one reason or another.

ok anon i know u only requested 3 characters but pls understand i am baby crazy + i wanna write for my favs i dont get to write often so pls take my emotion dump .......... ill put ur requests at the front

Stannis

He's uncomfortable about being left with a baby, but he knows you're exhausted and deserve the free time. So, he dutifully sets out to take care of this baby. Somehow.

Even if his kiddo is easy as can be, only waking up to eat and going right to sleep, Stannis is fretting. He keeps them close to his desk, but it's hard to focus on work when he keeps glancing over, anticipating something. Regardless if the child is crying or looking around or sleeping, he thinks something is off. The baby suddenly opening his eyes and smiling at him gives Stannis some comfort, though.

A toddler is much more effort. Stannis brings in the boy's favorite toys and his plush stag, but the child knows something is different today. He's wholly interested in Stannis, resulting in the stoic man having to carry the kid around while he does his rounds around Dragonstone or King's Landing. Stannis gets a bit flustered when people coo over his son and tease him about getting "stuck" with babysitting. Stannis grunts he's the father, so it's not that unreasonable, and tries to get on with his job.

He talks to his kid like a little adult, seriously explaining the things around the castle, who this person is, what that room is used for. Stannis will never "fawn" or coo over his child. Whenever the tot reaches for something of interest, Stannis brings him over to examine it.

Stannis is the type to know exactly what comforts his kiddo, so he carries that along with him. As soon as the toddler starts fussing because he's tired and overwhelmed, Stannis hands him the oversized black stag and quickly goes back to their room. If the child is displaying signs of being "different" - as in, probably neuroatypical, Stannis picks it up quickly and tries to accommodate him best as he can. This is Westeros, so he only has so much knowledge and resources, but he's more aware and considerate than others.

In the end, he didn't get much done today. When you come back, he reports all the things he and the baby did. He doesn't know why you're looking at him so softly and giving him lots of kisses, but he won't complain about it.

Sandor

Sandor grumbles and rolls his eyes, but he takes the kid. Sandor is pretty awkward with the baby, but at least he's not terrified of "breaking" it. You've already showed him how to care for her, so he knows what to do, he's just prone to fumbling and making a mess. Even if the baby is perfectly well-mannered and sleeps all day, Sandor doesn't want to leave them alone. He ends up staying in the house and doing chores in there so he's not too far off.

A toddler is much easier to care for. Sandor just straps the tot to his back and goes about his chores on your shared farm. When he stops for a break, he lets the kid out and watches them run around and play.

It's .. actually not bad. Sandor still thinks you do a better job, and figures the kid likes you more. He thinks this even as his toddler comes back with bunch of flowers and he lets her stick them in his hair. He answers whatever questions and babbling she has with his usual sass and... colorful language, and gods know she gets away with a lot. By the end of the day, she's got a big ouchie on her leg, a stomach full of berries she foraged and her hair is covered in leaves and twigs. She won't stop happily babbling about the fun day she had with her father, though.

When he brings her into town, everyone is cooing over the cute baby and the big, gruff man she's tied to. Sandor tries to get away from the townspeople, but he so rarely visits without you, and he's a bit of a mysterious, scary figure... made totally unintimidating by the giggling kid he's got strapped to his chest.

... That's if you find them awake! When you get home, Sandor and your kiddo are probably passed out by the hearth. It's adorable. When he wakes up, Sandor grumbles about you leaving him alone with the kid, even as she's passed out on him and he's still cradling her. Yeah okay buddy.

Roose

He's annoyed, because there's clearly a nurse who can take care of the babe, but he also picks his battles with you. If you're sleep deprived, pissed off and in clear need of a break, he'll do it.

Which is to say, Roose simply has the bassinet moved to his office. He keeps the babe close at hand while he catches up on some work and letters. He's definitely not the sort to walk around the Dreadfort with a child in his arms. When the baby needs something, he takes care of it. There's little smiling or warmth here. It's easy if the baby just sleeps most of the time. If it's awake and becomes more distressed at being ignored, Roose begrudgingly holds it while continuing his writing.

For a toddler, he's still not going to cart them around the Dreadfort, nor will he just let them go off and play. So, he does the same thing - A day with dad means Roose sitting at his desk and some toys being strewn about the room for the kiddo to play with.

Naturally, a toddler will get bored from this arrangement. So Roose will allow them up on his knee and will answer whatever silly questions they have. This might be the only time his kid will be in his lap - he definitely won't indulge them when they're older and "should know better".

Yeah, he's not a terribly affectionate father. Though he's interested if the child is clearly intelligent, like if they're trying to talk to him, figure out what he's doing, or they're incredibly absorbed in whatever toy they have. Roose is more willing to indulge their curiosity, especially if this is his heir.

When you're ready to take your child back, you can definitely give Roose a talking to about being so cold. A young one needs love and warmth, but you're talking to a man who had neither when he was growing up. Honestly, he's better at the whole parenting thing when you're around. It's hard for Roose to remain distant and impassive when you're snuggling and praising his heir. He won't ever admit to it, but watching you both gives him a very warm feeling.

Ned

He's more than pleased to take over the childcare for today - Ned knows you need a break, and he's done it before. If your child is still a babe, Ned doesn't want to be away from them for too long. He brings them into his office, refuses visitors for the day and tries to catch up on some paperwork while constantly getting distracted by every coo he hears. When the baby needs something, Ned easily takes care of them and keeps them in his arms for a while longer, even if it makes writing awkward.

He's pleased whenever Robb, Jon or any of the other children come by to peek at the baby. It's doubtful they'll pay attention for that long, but Ned thinks it's important they ought to say hello to their new sibling.

A toddler whose moving around and more active means Ned can can them with him while he's going about his duties. He gladly brings the tot around Winterfell as he speaks to men and visits with a lord or two. He's a bit shy when they comment on how much the child looks like him - or the praise about having a son, and polite comments on having a daughter. Once all that is done with, he can finally show the child around Winterfell and watch their eyes light up as they look at the tall towers and huge walls.

Once the child is (finally) tired, Ned quietly brings them back inside. If the other young ones (Arya/Bran/Rickon etc) he tucks them in together. Help, he's dying from domestic happiness. Ned didn't think he'd have such a family.

Jorah

Jorah is more than happy to take the kiddo off your hands for a day - if he's the father, this is already something he's done several times. If the child isn't his, he's honored that you trust him so much! He promises to protect the baby and take good care of them. You probably aren't thinking about it that seriously, but his heart is in the right place.

He loves holding your kiddo and smiling and talking to them while he (attempts to) get things done. Eventually he just ties the baby to his chest like he's seen some Essosi women do. Jorah is the sort to respond to every babble they have, talking to them but moreso to himself. He wouldn't carry the baby everywhere if it was a fussy or sensitive type, though.

He's probably a little too coddling for a baby - some more affectionate kids might like it, but more stand-offish babies might be bothered by his constant holding. At least Jorah gets the memo and puts them down when they're fussing. When the baby is in their bassinet, he hangs up some pretty charms for good health and long life the Dothraki women made. Anytime he finds a new one, he ties it up.

With all his patience, Jorah is excellent at caring for a toddler. He knows to bring a toy they like and keeps them up on his shoulders while he walks around the markets, showing them the different sights. He tells the child lots of new words, even if they won't remember it all. Maybe something will stick. When your kiddo starts getting sleepy and fussy, Jorah ties them on his back like he did when they were a babe.

He really can't resist buying a toy or soft blanket the kiddo points at... It's just one! It's not like he does this all the time - well, last time was only a week ago. And Jorah was by himself. So it doesn't count.

When you come back, your kiddo is exhausted and fast sleep, but Jorah is beaming. He had a great time and he volunteers himself anytime you need a break from the toddler. If you both are together, he wants lots of snuggles because he's just so full of love. He had a great day and he's so lucky to have you and your child.

Victarion

... You want him to do what?

Even after you've handed him the baby, given him instructions and walked off, Victarion still stands there. Holding it. Looking at it. Even when this is his child too, and even after you've given him direction, he's stumped. You... want him to look after the babe? You actually think he can? ... Isn't there a thrall that can do this job?

He tries to pawn the baby off to Yara, who just laughs in his face and tells him to figure it out. If he's truly hopeless, she might lend a hand, but it's his damn kid. You should've made him look after her a while ago.

Normally a rough man, Victarion holds the baby like she's made of nothing but glass. He doesn't want to admit to himself how scared he is of dropping her or squeezing her too hard. A toddler is somewhat easier as she would actually like getting scooped up - a baby doesn't not appreciate that sudden movement.

Having no idea what's an appropriate activity for a toddler, the Ironborn would just lift the toddler by her collar, put her on his shoulder and go off. He'd train his men and bark orders while your daughter sat on his shoulder, watching everything with interest. Occasionally pulling at his long hair, and then he'd tell her to stop. Like... she's understands what he's saying. At some point he handed her an old knife to distract her. It's shiny. And it's dull. She'll be fine. If she cuts herself, it'll be an important lesson.

When she (weakly) throws it at someone, he finally laughs and gives it back to her. This is the first laugh/smile your little one has gotten from Victarion, so hell yeah she's gonna throw it again.

You're surprised by the good mood Victarion is in when he gives your baby back. And she's giggling, too, and she's in one piece. Well, that's surprising. It isn't until days later when you hear about how he let her have some ale, gave her a small training axe, set her on the bow of a ship to show her the ocean ...

Arianne

Babysitting duty! You apologize to Arianne and tell her she really doesn't have to, but she wants to. By this point she has quite a crush on you, and your kid is adorable, so this is a win-win. She gets your favor and she gets to carry around a cute little tot.

It can't be that hard, right? The babe is always so well-behaved with you. If it's a baby, she might actually be kind of bored... He mostly just sleeps in his bassinet, and sometimes she has to get up to feed him or listen to him babble. ... I mean, she should be grateful, but... You always look so cute cooing over him, maybe he just doesn't like her ...

But when you get back, you're beaming and thanking her, telling her he's so happy. Well, if you say so!

Arianne more engaged with a toddler. She'll gladly take him around Sunspear, showing him the shiny armor of the guards, the beautiful tapestries hanging from the walls, the big lion skin rug in her favorite parlor. She loves how much his eyes brighten and he babbles and points. He's so much like you, she's dying from cuteness.

Admittedly, she panics a bit when he starts scrunching up his face and fussing. She's had experience with young ones, but her mind draws a blank as she tries to soothe him. She remembers that babies can get overwhelmed, so she takes him to a quiet room until he's calm. There, this isn't so hard. But then he starts asking for his mama and getting upset that she's not there...

By the time you return, Arianne is relieved. She had fun, but she's exhausted. And her ears are sore from him yanking on her earrings.

Brynden

It's not like you ask for this favor often, so Brynden is willing to help you out. Especially if you're a widow, he really can't turn you down. He tells you to take your time, he's familiar with children.

And he is! Brynden isn't worried about holding a babe wrong or dealing with a toddler's endless questions. He was basically a second parent to his nieces and nephew when Minisa passed, and he easily reverts back to caretaking.

While most men would grumble about a baby or hold it improperly, Brynden calmly carries her around, takes care of her when she needs something, and goes back to whatever he was doing. He doesn't forget to smile at her and talk to her about this or that. He has such a gentle way of speaking to children.

A toddler is definitely interesting. Brynden will put her on his shoulders and take her to see the horses, the knights training, the people going in and out of the feast hall. He talks to his men as if there isn't a child pulling at his ears. If something gets her attention, Brynden will take the girl there and explain to her what she's looking at. She doesn't understand now, but she will later.

If the children was his own, Brynden might be a little shyer about showing her off to everyone. He'd still walk her around the Eyrie, but when there's less people. He just spent so long going on about how he'd never marry or have kids, and now look at him.

When it's time to pick your little one up, Brynden clearly had a fun day. He's usually busy with guarding the Bloody Gate or the Eyrie, but the old knight will absolutely help you out again if he can.

Yara

Noooooooo. She can't hide her grimace when you hand her the baby. Yara will do the babysitting, because she knows you're exhausted and you deserve it, and she doesn't want to toss the kid off on some thrall... But what does she know about babies? She's made a point to not have any, and avoid caring for them. This kid is lucky he's your's.

She's positive the Drowned God cares little for babes and whether they cry or not, but Yara is thanking him anyway when your baby just sleeps through most of the day. All she's had to do is feed him and change him a few times. She knows he's not always like that, so maybe the little bastard decided to be nice to Aunty Yara. Isn't she lucky?

If he's crying and fussing, well ... Yara will get through it, but when you're back, she hands him back with an exhausted sigh. She is never having children.

A toddler is both easier to manage and a little harder. On one hand, the tot is always running off and wanting to mess with everything. Yara talks to him like a person, not bothering with the babytalk, because she knows he actually listens. When he tries to pick up something he shouldn't have, she tries to replace it with a toy or ... a cool looking stick. A smooth rock. Anything.

He can be pretty funny, though. When she's carrying him around and people try to give her shit, she just points at them and your son launches his rock right at them. She gives him an approving kiss on the forehead and hands him more. When he repeats something he heard her sailors say, he says it with such enthusiasm she can't help but laugh. (At least she's not giving him weapons or alcohol, Victarion)

When she gives your toddler back, she's less tired, a little more amused, but still pretty over it. Yara is better with older kids; the ones that are still crying and using diapers are a bit too much. She prefers when it's the three of you together.

#i wont apologize for myself lmao #stannis baratheon x reader #sandor clegane x reader #roose bolton x reader #ned stark x reader #victarion greyjoy x reader #arianne martell x reader #brynden tully x reader #jorah mormont x reader #yara greyjoy x reader

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wwr-afterdark · 2 years

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What's the general premise of your game? Which OCs are going to be the focus? Can we get some brief bios for them? I crave information.

Familiar follows you, a budding witch, who has decided to adopt a garden of spiritual golems-familiars! They need a witch's care and you need the boost in magic. Perfect, in theory...

There's a full garden to tend to, and I do tend to give attention to each plant person! While the full cast is 7 (with two being a package deal), I'll focus on smaller groups based on my preference and/or Patreon voting. As of now I have three in mind, but nothing is set in stone!

• Danny, the marimo terrarium!

• He's 7' tall and built like a brick house.

• His inspiration is the Scream series, namely the character Stu.

• He's flirty and funny, life is a game and he's winning! Even if this is technically his second "round".

• He is the most physically affectionate-even towards victims.

• Dean, the poppy.

• The DILF, to put it simply.

• He was older when he died, and long past his "wild" teen years.

• He's the tallest, at 7'3", and will use that to intimidate you.

• He was inspired by JD (Heathers) and Fear.

• Absolutely needs to control you, and will find a way to do so.

• Jason, a Japanese honeysuckle.

• He's 6'5" and lanky. He doesn't know how to use his height intimidatingly.

• Inspired by various songs, one day I'll make him a playlist.

• Dude gets so overstimulated being around you that he's mistaken as being jittery/shy/etc. That's the power of pinesol love, baby.

• He stalks you. If he's not following you he's making scrapbooks or planning proposals or setting up your cage or-

• Victor, the white bitch rose.

• For your sanity, just avoid this one.

• 6' ain't shit compared to Dean, but try explaining that to this bratty lil god complex.

• They want a pet to dress, love, and lavish and all they want in return is that you worship their every petal.

• And if you look at another flower after making that promise you're losing sight privileges.

• Ward, strawberry ground cherry/lantern fruit.

• The shortest at 5'10"! Doesn't phase this king.

• Chill, stoic, with a sass that comes out of left field.

• Pretty and he knows it, and does appreciate competition in that aspect.

• RBF but without the F.

• Inspired by Stefano Valentini.

• Morgan & Tiff, the calla lily & lavender.

• Lived, loved, and died together.

• Morgan is pretty southern belle with a masculine fashion sense and love of guns.

• Tiffany (Tiff) is damn feral despite her sweet appearance. Watch that dress it's hiding your death.

• While they seem perfectly content with each other, they've always been open to finding one more-its unfortunate that the prospects kept dying y'see?

#murder oc #murderbabe #my art #yandere #ask #blue #familiargame #oc list

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leo-selfship · 2 years

Text

Meet the Bridal Party: Who’s Who!

With the wedding in three days, I figured it was about time to start talking about the Bridal Party, and who they are!

The Groom:

Ba’al is my Space Mr. Darcy. Incredibly charming and intelligent and confident - and also an asshole (affectionate). He’s a member of a species called the Goa’uld, which require a host body to live (think venom). During the crisis in which we met, I became his host for a period of several months, and since we formed an incredibly close bond.

He is my Brain Worm Parasite Man and I love him.

The Bride:

Leona Hawthorne is my Stargate: SG1 S/I, and is a universe hopper! (From here in out referred to by I/me). I'm looking for my home universe, but I've spent a lot of time on SG:1's Earth because of how close it is to home - it’s basically the same, just with some added interplanetary threats. Also the fact that my Rift Device got broken in my crash to Earth.

Ba’al has vowed to try and repair it, though and plans to come with me if/when I eventually move on. (Has superpowers and an elongated lifespan).

The Best Man/Walks me down the Aisle:

Colonel Jack O'Neill is like family to me. Not only was I his roommate for a time once I got cleared by the SGC, but we've also been through hell and back and I wouldn't want anyone else to give me away, in lieu of my family.

Not happy I'm marrying a literal parasite and also former enemy. But after Ba'al has come through in desperate situations more than once, and (helped) saved the day from the Replicators, he grudgingly accepts that maybe he's not all that bad.

Will get into Verbal and Physical battles with both of us.

The Groomsmen:

Doctor Daniel Jackson, my fav archeologist and boyfriend. Yes I am marrying Ba'al. Yes Daniel is my boyfriend. He understands that Ba'al and i literally have each other's memories and basically got our brains scrambled into each other's. Kind of hard to compete with that, even when I love them both so, so much. He ships us tho, and is bringing his girlfriend to the wedding as his plus one, and it will be very cute.

(He was dead when Ba'al proposed 💀. He came back though.)

Teal'c, alien icon, rose up against the false god ruling his people and killed him to death.

Nearly did the same to Ba'al when he went to Sg-1 for help to save me from a rival Goa’uld.

Stoic, intimidating, and the King of unexpected deadpan humor.

Colonel Cameron Mitchell is another man who saw me and was like "my sister now." He is so full of kindness and sass. Nearly died in a dogfight With aliens over Antarctica, but he's too stubborn to die.

He thinks Ba'al is hilarious actually but won't let anybody know that.

The Maid of Honor:

Colonel Samantha Carter, best astrophysicist this side of the Milky Way. Intentionally caused a star to go supernova. I have drunkenly made out with her. More than once. #galpals

Strange tension with Ba'al That has me feeling A Sort of Way sometimes.

Not afraid to deck someone for being condescending and sexist.

The Bridesmaids:

Doctor Janet Frasier! My buddy my friend my pal. Such a big heart, and so, so fierce. The reason why everyone on this list is still alive! Also the reason I go to the medbay so often (haha jk it's bc of chronic illness)

Suppose to be dead but I said Fuck That and fixed it.

(it was Ba'al that saved her but I helped)

Vala Mal'doran, compulsive liar and life of the party. Of you've earned her trust you'll have a great time. If you haven't she'll con you out of everything you own and you'll thank her for it. Decided she wants to be a better person, but don't take everything she tells you at face value, will you?

I think she thinks I'm serious about being a witch?

Honorable mention from the guest list:

General Hammond, Jacob Carter and his symbiote Selmak, Martouf and his symbiote Lanteash, Skarra, Oma, Braytac, Ryac, Cassandra, Jonas Quinn, and Anat (oc)!

Unfortunately, Supreme Commander Thor will be unable to join us due to the fact that he's a little grey alien and would break international secrecy laws were he to show himself to the members of the public that will be present.

But he has sent a nice fruit basket, and a in depth run through of the Asgard's limited knowledge of interdimensional travel.

#self shipping #oc x canon #s/i x canon #s/i x f/o #f/o #f/o tag: ba'al #wedding tag: gold roses #f/o: daniel #platonic f/o: sam #platonic f/o: jack #platonic f/o: teal'c #platonic f/o: cameron #platonic f/o: vala #platonic f/o: janet

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yoongi-sugaglider · 3 years

Text

Daegu Quarantine

Jungkook x reader

Gang/ zombie apocalypse au

Warnings:

Gore, violence, zombies, mention of drugs and drug dealing, weapons discharge in self defense, main character death, zombies, course language, zombies, drinking, did I mention zombies?

Summary:

They were the top of their game, known throughout the city as the smartest and most dangerous crew to ever hit the Daegu streets. But what’s going to happen when this group of young men encounter something right out of a horror film?

Word count: 2833

A/n: Just a heads up, mild torture beat em ups this chapter, and the opinions of the military are (Mostly) purely for the story.

Part 17===Part 18===Part 19

By the time my brain even attempted to register what was going on, Jenkins had already dragged me from the kitchen into the main bowling area.

The pitch-black lanes loomed before me, gaping chasms yawning in the darkness like the monstrous face of some multi headed monster preparing to swallow me whole.

Jenkins shoved me ahead of him, causing me to stumble into one of the ball returns. I choked back a cry as the cool and unforgiving metal dug into the wound on my thigh. The last thing I needed was to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d hurt me, especially with the implications of what he planned to do to me.

As I pushed myself to stand he grabbed my arm, growling his impatience in my ear and shoving me around the machine.

“Keep it moving, I don’t have all day.”

I frowned, shuffling forward a pace or two before finding my stride once again.

“Shame, last I checked I had the whole apocalypse.” I laced as much sass as I could manage into my tone, earning myself a jab to the ribs from his weapon. The bruising force had me cackling into the darkness like a mad woman.

We passed several of his soldier buddies. Some camped out on the seats around the score monitors while others milled around in small groups or by themselves. All of them seemed desperate to stick as close to the lanterns as they could though.

Of the ones that I could see, including the three I’d seen stationed at the front doors, I counted 14 bodies, 26 total if I included the civilians I’d been grouped with in the kitchens. There was no telling really though how many of the soldiers had weapons and special combat training, and that alone set me on edge enough to keep me paying attention.

“Home sweet home huh?” I muttered as we made our way through to the lobby and towards a set of very dark looking stairs.

Jenkins paused for a moment and I watched by the light filtering in from the front doors as he dug angrily through the pockets of his army issue cargo pants.

“Gosh, and here I thought the torture was gonna be getting my fingernails ripped out or some shit. No, it’s waiting on King Flaccid to figure his shit out.”

The comment may have earned me a rifle butt to the stomach but damn if it wasn’t worth seeing Jenkin’s fellow soldier snickering behind his back.

“Shut it Riley…” Jenkins grumbled.

By the time the semi functioning man had his flashlight out and shining at the stairs I’d recovered from my forced Lamaze class enough to walk upright again. Which meant once more I was leading the way in a building I’d never been in before.

Using my still cuffed hands I felt along the walls as I climbed, finally emerging on the pitch black landing with a sigh.

“Lovely place you have here.” I grumbled, impatiently tapping my foot as I watched the bobbing beam of the flashlight slowly ascending behind me. I suppressed a shiver when the light highlighted several dark smears and handprint splatters on the wall.

“Yooo!! Welcome to my crib MTV!” I grinned, leaning against the wall as nonchalantly as possible when Jenkins and his buddy finally huffed and puffed their way to standing in front of me.

“Fuck sake Jenkins. Can we shut this bitch up already?”

Apparently the men had finally had enough of me as the next thing I knew I woke up with a blinding headache and a distinct inability to draw a full breath from the fact that my arms were now wrapped around the back of a chair and cuffed in place.

“Jeeze, you would think being in the military somebody would have taught these boys how to treat a lady.” I grumbled to myself, earning me a quiet snicker from somewhere ahead of me.

I opened my eyes, blinking rapidly to adjust to the relative brightness of the room after so long spent in the dark. A grin leapt to my face at the sight of Rose, slightly bruised to the face but no less alive and well.

“Well shit, fancy meeting you here hot stuff!”

She grinned back at me, the expression coming across as mildly manic since the swelling to her lips and cheek made her face slightly lopsided.

The room itself was about as boring as an office could get. My brain only half way registered the handful of candles that lit the place, making the bowling posters and filing cabinets feel almost sinister.

Almost.

“Homey.” I smiled, eyes seeking out Jenkins and his buddy who stood back by the door, whisper arguing with each other.

“Boys? Fancy getting a girl a drink?” I asked, head tilted awkwardly so I could catch their eye when they turned to glare at me.

Neither answered though and I went back to taking in my surroundings. Taehyung sat in a chair just opposite Rose, facing her as if they’d been making him watch them torture her. Amatures.

I nodded to him, knowing he’d always been able to handle the harshest of treatments thanks to having watched Hoseok initiate him ages and ages ago. He didn’t seem too happy to see me there but I shrugged his way, sending him a grin that had his frown deepening.

“You do realize if we duct tape her mouth we won’t have to deal with her bullshit right?”

I turned to look at the two soldiers, quirking an eyebrow at the younger one and smiling flirtily his way.

“Aww, tie me up and gag me. I like the way that one thinks.” The bright blush that exploded across his cheeks was well worth what came next.

There was no warning. I don’t know why I expected there to be one.

One minute Jenkins was by the door, the next he was right in front of me.

The pain that lashed across the left side of my face had me seeing stars. Almost immediately Rose was screaming, struggling against her restraints and threatening the men around us.

“You low life piece of garbage! I swear to fuck I will expose every internet search you ever tried to hide! Every tiny dick pic you ever took. Every depraved piece of porn you ever Googled or downloaded!”

She continued on, practically foaming at the mouth as Jenkins laughed out loud.

“Ah, see now. I had a feeling this one would be useful.” He snickered, eyes filled with glee as he watched me spit out the blood that’d filled my mouth when my teeth scraped the inside of my cheek. He pulled a butterfly knife out of his pocket, flicking it back and forth a few times before flashing it open before me.

“Come on now Army boy, my grandmother hits harder than that.” I grinned up at him, knowing I looked half way to deranged with my swelling cheek and the blood that I could still taste covering my front teeth.

My insult must not have sat too well with his ego as he bent over me and jammed the handle of his knife into my thigh wound.

“Cheeky little cunt.” He growled, breath a hot mask of cigarettes and whatever canned goop he’d eaten for lunch.

I cried out from the shock of the pain, eyes watering as I sought out the comforting sight of my friends.

Rose was openly sobbing, head hung low as she continued to mutter threats in Jenkins’ general direction. Tae on the other hand was stone silent, eyes awash with rage as he opened his mouth as if to speak.

I returned my attention to Jenkins, though I made sure Taehyung had his eyes on me before I spoke.

“Silence is golden. It’s better this way.” I knew it was cryptic, that much was obvious in the way Jenkins hesitated in raising his hand as if to hit me again.

More importantly than his reaction though was Tae. I knew he would understand my words without me having to say anything.

I glanced over at Tae, watching his eyes go from blind fury to a quiet resignation. Despite everything on the line he knew better than to go against my silent orders.

“Well?” The man called Riley demanded.

Jenkins continued to twirl his butterfly knife, face a mask of cold indifference as he watched the edge glint in the low candle light. He pulled an empty chair over, sitting down and leaning forward, elbows on his knees as he scratched at his chin with the knife blade while watching my every move.

I squinted at him, watching the rusted gears turning in his head before realization struck.

“You’ve never done this have you?” I asked, grinning brightly before throwing my head back to cackle aloud into the darkness.

“Good lord Tae no wonder you haven’t said shit!” I leaned to the side a bit, sending the stoic hacker a wink. “Hobi would have had any one of us howling out secrets by now. And here I thought I was actually in trouble. That boy could get a baby to snitch on their mother’s breast milk and here you two are barely struggling to even get me to shut up. Can you imagine!”

***

They tried. They certainly did.

By the time Jenkins had worn himself into exhaustion I’d grown bored with all of it.

He’d hit me sure, bruised my face and arms several shades of ugly. But in the end I’d been untied and sent on my way back to the kitchen with the others along with Rose and Taehyung.

I could tell the entire experience had demoralized poor Jenkins. His shoulders slumped as he followed behind Riley before disappearing into the darkness of the lobby after we’d been delivered back to the kitchen.

Once the soldiers were gone Jimin immediately rushed over to fawn over the three of us. He did the best he could with what the kitchen had available, substituting a tiny bottle of vodka that one of the civilians had found for rubbing alcohol and patching up everyone’s wounds as best as he was able to.

After my injuries had been attended to I made my way over to what remained of our crew, hugging a sobbing Jeanette tightly while sending Yoongi a reassuring smile before allowing myself to be wrapped from behind in the warmth of Jungkook’s grounding embrace.

“How bad was it?” he muttered into my shoulder blade.

“Not too bad. Pretty sure Jimin would have had a better time of it compared to what those amateurs attempted to accomplish.”

“Fucking Air Farce.” Came Rose’s grumbled remark as she collapsed gracelessly beside where Jeanette and Yoongi were sat.

“Air Farce?” Namjoon’s voice came from behind me and I turned to give him a smile, shrinking away slightly with a playful squeak when he reached out to ruffle my hair.

“Yeah. American military has several branches, just like most countries. There’s a bit of a hierarchy on respect levels though. Marines are hardcore, either single minded dogs or gung-ho and always ready and looking for action. Army are the boys on the front lines, some call them cannon fodder.” Rose shrugged as she leaned into Taehyung, finally relaxing for the first time since we’d been taken from the house.

“Nobody really pays attention to the Navy honestly. I mean, there’s the occasional sailor comes to port joke but really the just… It’s like everyone knows they exist but nobody wants to talk about them or admit that they do.”

“And the Air Farce?” Namjoon, ever eager to learn new things, seemed almost to be bouncing in place where he sat on the kitchen floor across from Rose.

“Air Force.” Rose corrected with a smirk. “Every branch has their own air support division. Planes, jets, choppers. All of that. The Air Force is strictly flight stuff. Air cargo, air support, blah blah blah. And while that would sound pretty epic, it’s the way they’re treated that pisses off the other branches.”

“What do you mean the way they’re treated?” One of the civilians chirped up, a young girl with eyes sparkling almost as brightly as Namjoon’s who’d wandered over and had been hovering awkwardly at the edge of the conversation. Her mother hushed her, though Rose smiled and motioned to the mother that it was okay.

“Well, actually Jeanette knows more about that than I do.” Rose smiled.

The woman blushed, having been caught listening in on the conversation as well. I glanced around the room, eyes widening when I realized that most of the people who’d been locked in the kitchen with us had their full focus on those who’d been talking.

Jeanette swallowed, nerves clamming her up at the attention. The young girl sat at her feet though, and so she chose to give her attention to the younger audience. The shift in her focus seemed to calm her enough that she was able to tell her story.

“My...recently deceased husband was in the Army. He’d been part of a war not too long ago and spent a lot of his time deployed in the desert. It wasn’t exactly the most comfortable of living arrangements as you can imagine.”

The girl giggled, “Wouldn’t it be like living on the beach though?”

“Oh sure.” Jeanette replied. “If that beach was nothing but sand with no water and all the crabbies were just a bunch of grumpy people.”

Namjoon jerked up, eyes wide and sparkling as he practically shouted. “There are crabs in the desert??”

Rose snorted, covering her mouth to stifle a giggle. “No Joon, but there are definitely some awful big spiders there.”

“Ewwwwww, I don’t like spiders.” The girl cringed, shuffling closer to Jeanette who instinctually gathered her into her arms.

“Me too neither.” Jeanette giggled before returning to her story.

“Well, I have a younger brother. He’d been slated to be a pretty amazing athlete. But his final year of high school he messed up his knee pretty bad and his basketball career was pretty much over. So he asked Dean for some advice. Dean pointed him towards the air force.”

The girl snuggled into Jeanette, being careful not to crush her belly and causing her mother to send Jeanette an apologetic grimace of a smile. Jeanette shook her head though, sending a reassuring smile back to let the mother know it was alright.

“After basic training my brother was sent on his first deployment to an island outpost. He’d set things up so that he could communicate with his family while he was gone, his wife and myself included. One day he messages me, and so we get to talking about his living arrangements, which of course Dean decided he needed to chirp in his two cents about.” Jeanette smiled down at the girl, brushing her hair out of her now sleeping face before turning to Namjoon’s rapt attention.

“You see, when my brother was deployed, instead of staying in a tent as if he was in the desert, or being forced to sleep on a hammock like those in the Navy had to do when they were deployed on their ships, the Air Force had put him and his squad up in a hotel. He had messaged me to complain that room service hadn’t brought him fresh towels in a week so he’d been forced to do his own laundry.”

Yoongi snorted, arms crossed over his stomach and chin buried in his chest as he struggled to contain his mirth.

“Wait so...what was wrong with that?” Namjoon asked and Yoongi barked out a bitter laugh.

“He’s deployed Joon. Life isn’t supposed to be easy on mission. You’re there to do a job. What Rose is getting at is that these Air Force men are spoiled, allowed to live the easy life while the real military men toil in the dirt.”

“Well...I mean..”

Yoongi cut Namjoon off, giving him a deliciously evil grin. “This is a good thing. With the way these three looked after their so called torture interrogation, those dense fucks outside don’t have a clue what they’re doing. Just a handful of shmucks with guns.”

“So then…” I paused when Yoongi turned to me with a confident grin.

“Enough planning and the right upper hand, and maybe, just maybe we can get out of this completely unscathed.”

I could feel the change in Jungkook’s body language, as he’d never let go of his grip on me from behind.

“Well shit...if that’s the case…”

Jungkook was interrupted though, as suddenly, as if the universe had decided to finally give us a break from the madness, a tiny voice chirped out from the chest pocket of my shirt.

“Hey...Boss Lady...can you hear me?”

I stiffened, eyes wide as I turned to stare at Jungkook in shock.

“.....Jin? Seokjin is that you?”

#bts #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook gang au #jungkook zombie au #bts jungkook x reader #bts zombie au #bts gang au #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts x reader #bts x reader insert #bts scenarios #bts jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts fluff #bts angst #bangtan boys imagine

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goldenpoison · 3 years

Text

Come Back To Me

T || 3.2k words || read it on Ao3

“And what if you died?” Alina screams at her husband, her voice almost cracking. Her wariness of nearby servants long gone. Aleksander already dismissed their personal guards the moment they stepped foot in the war room.

The beloved and celebrated rulers of Ravka would often bicker and sass each other. Their people saw it endearing. The lovesick teenagers would stare at the couple and giggle amongst themselves, often chittering about how they want to have something like some day. Their hearts still ignorant of the pain and suffering that trails love wherever it goes. The adults, who were once the bubbly teenagers, would also stare at them longingly, but for a different reason. Where the younger ones stare and wish for a storybook romance, they wish for even a sliver of the comfort and satisfaction that the monarchs had with each other — of a relationship healthy enough that both parties respect the other equally, and are unafraid to not hold back a snide remark.

They rarely fought intensely despite the bickering and the constant back and forth. But when they do, even the birds in their nests and the rabbits in the underbrush stop in their tracks, wary of the change of the lights and shadows. In fact, it’s been years since they had, possibly even almost a decade. Although they’ve been fighting for near an hour now, they have only ever repeated their original points and nothing more. The single difference being that they said them with much fervor than the last. At least, Alina does.

What fuels her most is not Aleksander’s stubbornness, but his calm demeanor. How could he stay level-headed when her temper is only rising and rising?

“I won’t, Alina.” His voice was stern and final. His words, however, were far from certain. “I’ve lived for centuries. What weapon could they possibly possess that could kill me?”

A lie. Excluding who his wife once was — the Alina who was ready to risk everything for the life of a simple otkazat’sya, the Alina just before she tasted the power of all three amplifiers, before she wore the bone of the said otkazat’sya amplifier on her wrist, before her hands were covered in his blood, her mind stained with the memory of his death, and her heart heavy with the guilt of not regretting any of it — for the first time in hundreds of years, there was a weapon that threatened his life. It was the reason why his army requested for him in the first place.

Too many Grishas who even dares to step near the Fjerdan border, no matter their order nor rank, ended up dead. His Heartrender generals died in battle. One found sans her eyes and left with darkness in her eye sockets. Another with his head three meters from his body, messily discarded like it was just another piece of meat to be eaten by wolves. Another general has been spared the dismemberment but was found with wolf bites all over their body and very much dead, nonetheless. All with three bullet holes to the head. Just holes though, the bullets were brutally plucked from their place that left the wounds bigger, bloodier, and dirtier.

They hadn’t known what made the bullets so deadly for almost a week since the Fjerdans first brought out the weapon. It was only until one of the soldiers managed to escape to the camps with a tilted bullet still lodged in his head, just a little bit more to the left of the center of his forehead. They said he came crawling with only one hand to push himself. The other was stuck to his abdomen, trying to apply pressure to the deep gash to prevent any further bleeding. It didn’t work for he still left a bloody path. With his fatal wounds, he only managed to reach the camp post, and died clutching one of the newer guard’s kefta, eyes wide and murmuring mad nonsense.

As reported to him by his Fabrikators, the bullets were apparently made of the usual lead-antimony alloy. Normally, this wouldn’t be quite a problem for Grishas because of their bulletproof keftas. What made them more dangerous is their poison coated Grisha steel encasing. Turns out, the poison was made of a cousin of the jurda plant that branched out only a few decades ago and can only be grown in very specific conditions in Novyi Zem. How the Fjerdans got a hold of the steel, he doesn’t know yet. One thing he is sure of, is whoever was treacherous enough to do or even slightly partake in the crime will receive no mercy.

Still, Alina doesn’t know. She knows of the staggering increase of deceased Grisha, but not the reason. The report came to him only that morning along with the request, and he plans to keep her in the dark about it. Even after all these years, despite her centuries-old valiance and her time-hardened heart, he’s still protective over his wife.

They’ve endured many things together, from numerous bloody wars to the yearly balls and events, filled with the same old power-hungry people hoping to get in the good graces of their king and queen, that they might just of boredom from. Yet, he could never seem to get less protective over her, if not, it might be increasing every day that the war prolongs, and if he was being honest, every time an overly decent looking man or woman steps ever so slightly closer to her and dares to bat a suggestive eye at her. How could he not, when all they truly had left as one another? He stopped trying to make sincere acquaintances before he reached one hundred, and his retched mother, as distant and cold as she was, jumped off the Elbjen mountains. He couldn’t imagine leaving her, but his promise to himself that he will do whatever it takes to make the world a safe place for Grishas was made such a long time ago that he doesn’t know how to live without it.

“Please, my Alina,” he pleaded again.

She sighed a heavy breath, her shoulders dropped and her head lowered. She didn’t utter a single word before exiting the war room.

–

Aleksander couldn’t even say that he woke up unpleasantly, because he simply didn’t sleep at all. Not when he was too lost in the labyrinth of his own thoughts.

When it was time for breakfast, he saw that Alina, too, wore tired unrested eyes. She sat silently at her seat, her lips set in a slight frown and her head bowed. It wasn’t until the doors opened to let the servants enter with their food that she glanced up and Aleksander finally saw the redness in her eyes and the almost-vanished tear stains of her cheeks. She didn’t even bother with her Tailor today.

The servants served them a variety of fruits, buttered bread, and waffles, a food that Alina recently took a liking to these past few months. They stopped serving herring both at the Little and Grand Palace the first week that the couple came to power, courtesy of Alina whose face was in a clearly disgusted scrunch.

They finished their food without a single word said, and the tension in the air grew bigger and bigger with every second that passes. Alina has just stood up when he said, “Will you join me for a walk to the Little Palace this afternoon?”

She only looked at him with skeptical eyes, the rest of her face void of emotion. “Why?”

“For the sake of it. To check on the younger Grishas.”

Silence.

“Please. I leave at the crack of dawn tomorrow morning, you know?” The Darkling never begs for anyone or anything. But he had to Alina, twice now in not even 12 hours.

She flinched the tiniest of flinches when he mentioned when he was leaving, but he saw it anyway. She thought about it for a while and only gave him a simple nod and strode towards the large doors.

–

They walked to the Little Palace in deafening silence. Not a sound could be heard aside from the sounds of their footsteps treading through the snow, their own breathing, and the natural cacophony of the woods and the creatures that dwell in it. As they get closer to the Little Palace, they heard the cheer and laughter of the Grishas hanging out at the frozen lake. Some of them were skating, some Etherealki were messing around with their powers, some hid behind the snow forts they built breathing loudly and looking at their enemy from time to time while their partners threw snowballs at the enemy.

The Grishas didn’t seem to notice them as their fun hadn’t calmed. That was, until a particularly large snowball hit a certain king dressed in black.

Everyone turned quiet. No one moved a muscle and not a single soul intended to. Except Alina. She burst out laughing like a mad woman over the extremely shocked and bothered face of her husband. Honestly, he looked like he was just harassed by a lowly beggar, she thought.

Tears were forming in her eyes when the Darkling finally moved on from his shock. What came after left the Grishas even more shocked than they were before. He chuckled. Not a laugh, no. But something more than a smile, nonetheless. They weren’t even sure if he could do that. It was surely the first time they witnessed something like this. The Darkling, former coveted general of the Second Army, King of Ravka, a man of legend so great that some prayed to him like a saint, who was known as stoic and intimidating, and was only ever seen giving the smallest of smiles, barely a tug on one corner of his lips, actually chuckled.

After a good five seconds, they unfroze like they were finally freed from a curse that paralyzed their bodies, and laughed with the monarchs. Although, a few Grishas were still nervous about their king and forgo the laugh.

Alina wiped the tears from her face and looked at her husband with her bright eyes and wide grin. “Looks like the point goes to them,” she said. “Can we join?” she asked the group nearest to her, basically hopping over to them.

“Of course, moya tsaritsa. Moy soverenyi,” the Squaller playing greeted and bowed. The rest of the Grishas followed suit, their tenseness creeping back in.

“None of that,” the Darkling replied. He walked over to the other group and pointed to his wife, “You’ll regret this.”

“A set of jeweled gold pins when we win?” she bargained.

“If you win.”

“When.”

“If.”

Alina retorts with a snowball thrown to his chest. “Oops, well would you look at that, my hand slipped.”

Before he had any chance to counter, she beckons more of the other Grishas to join their game. Soon enough, they were all grouped up into two teams, each with around eight or so Grishas of varying order, all very much competitive.

Aleksander’s team threw snowballs after snowball, with two Durasts supplying the hands of the five Grishas, including The Darkling, with them so they’re never empty. Yet, only a few really ever got across the other’s fort and hit players. Alina’s team, on the other hand, had very little coordination. Their motto: make it, throw it, hope it hits something. Very unorganized, but hey, it worked.

At first, the Grishas were very cautious to not hit either of the monarchs, but after a few hits, they were the ones being targeted. One rogue snowball even hit Alina’s face, which she only laughed off and insisted they continue with a very precise throw to their opponent’s “tower” that sent a decent portion of their fort crumbling.

It was, as it seemed, an unspoken rule to not use their powers. One rule, which Alina violated. She sent enticing ribbons of light dancing towards enemy territory to disguise the building of the low make-shift shield. Apparently, her team is much more organized than they let on, because once the other team snapped out of the trance caused by the beauty and elegance of the Sun Summoner’s light, a ginormous snowball that they were sure it wasn’t there before, was thrown by three Grishas. It hit the near-center of their opponent’s fort and sent it crumbling down. Alina’s team took advantage of the others’ shock and threw snowball after snowball until the Darkling’s team were forced to forfeit, much to his dismay.

“That wasn’t a win, you know,” he said annoyed, but content nonetheless.

“Last time I checked my books, it was,” Alina replied.

“Your books are horribly mistranslated.”

She only sticked her tongue out at him.

“If you must know, that rule was heavily implied,” he said.

“Oh, boohoo. You’re just mad because you didn’t come up with it sooner, and now you’re acting like a child who got his sweets taken away from him.”

The young Grishas left their anxiousness behind a few minutes after the first snowball was thrown. Now, instead of being tense, they watched amused as their King and Queen bickered. Two very different souls almost wholly opposite one another, yet united and harmonious. It was this bond between them that gave Ravkans hope, and fuels the fire of Ravka itself.

It was the break of dawn.

Alina stood by doors, not daring to go any further in fear that if she did, she’d drag him back towards their quarters and never let him leave. Maybe even do another round of their risqué game they played last night. And a quick version of that right when they woke up.

Aleksander stood by the black troika, none sensibly fumbling with something. He looked over to his wife and didn’t stop his feet when it took a step towards her. Then another. Then another. They’ve already said their goodbyes a few moments ago, but he feels they’re not enough. They’re never enough. A single word of goodbye will never be enough to encapsulate what he feels.

So instead of saying them, when he reaches her at the top of the stairs, he kisses her, deep and passionately. She kisses him back. Where his kiss was intense, if not forceful, hers were tender and caring. He was desperate and longed for his wife. Alina only tried to mellow him down. Her kiss was to bring him back down to Earth, to calm him and remind him that she will be there when he comes home.

Their lips finally broke apart, but their noses remained touching.

“Come back to me,” Alina pleads, silently begging him to promise.

Aleksander only nods.

The first day he’s been gone, he sent a message.

“I’m here at the camps,” he said. “I arrived an hour earlier than expected.” He continued to tell her his ramblings and mortal thoughts that gave them both comfort. Words that reminded them that for each other, they were human. Just two humans with feiry hearts burndened with immortality.

The second day, he told her about the happenings in the camp but still ignored the topic of the weapon. He told her how General Volkova, the general who was found without her eyes, was replaced by General Popov, who was as strategic as he was insufferable.

The third day, he only said that he was fine, and nothing more.

Six days, he’s been gone. Three days without a word from him. He was only supposed to be ther for three days. He was only to assess and observe the situation, possibly come up with new plans, and show his face to the soldiers to relieve some of the anxiety.

She searched for him. Tugged on the string that ties her to him. But it never worked. Out of the many times she tried to appear to him, not once did she succeeded. It frightened her. It made her think of the worst.

No, anything but that, she thought.

The ninth day, a letter written on black paper, stamped with silver wax, was given to her.

She dropped her paintbrush, and hurried to read what was inside, not caring if the face she was painting was left unblended.

Grabbing the letter opener, she let herself hope. That it was him telling her that he’ll be home soon. That it detailed why he wasn’t able to update her.

Her eyes glanced over a word, a simple four letter word, that haunted her nightmares.

Dead.

Her world stopped. Everything went quiet. The curtains that rustled stilled. The whistling wind grew mute. The skys grew dim.

No. No. NO!

Everything came crashing down, as she fell to her knees. She didn’t need to read the entirety of the letter. She already knew what it said. Nevertheless, she forced herself to read it again and again. Hot tears streamed down her face as she read the letter word per word for the third time.

“It is with a heavy heart to write, that His Royal Majesty, the King of Ravka, is dead.”

A heavy heart, she thought, how can a heart be heavy if it was ripped from her chest and stabbed a billion times over?

They were supposed to be together. To never leave each other. To be by the other’s side no matter how far they were for eternity. They swore these words the night before they married. A week ago, he promised that he will come back to her.

Alina didn’t hear the pleading and the screaming of the servants and guards who came up to her room. She didn’t even register the gold pin with a dark blue gem on its head attached to the letter.

She was drowning. Drowning in grief. In sorrow. In emptiness, and in everything all at once.

The Sol Koroleva was drowning in light, that grew and grew with every tear that poured from her eyes.

For a brief moment, she glances at the unfinished painting — at the handsome face that was smiling the smile he gave only to her.

She screamed. And everything in Ravka, all the way to the True Sea, the Shu Han border, and Fjerdan border where the camp was, was enveloped in blinding light. Light that burned bright. Light so hot, it burned every flammable thing it touches. Deadly light, that killed both the Fjerdans, and the Ravkans.

Unlike the Unsea, it didn’t turn the humans into creatures. No. They were simply dead. Blinded, then burned.

The dome of light was so bright and wide that it could be seen from Kerch.

In the middle of all of it, Alina kneeled, sobbing, and clutching the cursed letter close to her heart like she was trying to absorb it.

She used to believe that grief was a beautiful thing. That was what she told herself after centuries of loss. Because if you grieved somebody, then it meant that you loved them enough that you gave them a small piece of your soul never to be returned again. And if they reciprocate, you gain theirs. And if they died, they carry that with them, and you keep a piece of them with you.

But Alina never knew what happens if the person who you loved so deeply that four letters couldn’t even begin to explain what you feel, that your souls became half of the other’s, then became a single one that you shared, leaves you. What happens then?

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awilddreamermain · 3 years

Note

Hi, Chels! Congratulations!! I'm so happy for you! You deserve every follower and more! That is a threat, I'm holding everyone hostage 🔪

I would love to get a MHA matchup, I wanna see who you'd match me with! Got me so curious! SFW & NSFW if you'd be willing!

My name is Chloe but I prefer May, nicknames include May-May, Maybell or Chlo.

I'm 25, pronouns are she/he, Cancer Moon, Aries Sun and Virgo Rising. Quite the weird mash of zodiacs, huh?

My favorite colors are pink (that soft pastel kinda baby pink), red (especially blood/garnet red) and...can I add pink again? Any shade of pink this time. Bubblegum or hot pink.

Favorite AU's include A/B/O, Mafia, Historical, Fantasy and does Mythical Creatures count?

Oh...oh boy, I gotta look deep for some fun facts that aren't just...facts but I'll do my best!

1) My sneezes are so short and high pitched I go "chu".

2) I have vitiligo, makes me look like a dog because it's mostly around my mouth and my right eye so I have a spot!

3) I have atrocious balance, my knees and shins are always banged up because I cannot for the life of me walk correctly.

4) I have a stutter, on top of speaking so quickly it turns into a jumbled mess. So good luck understanding what I said because I have no idea either.

5) I have a growing unicorn plush collection. My favorite is Cupcake, one that's actually taller than I am. Big chunk.

My likes are pretty simple. Cute & soft sweaters, blankets, warm coffee and strawberry milk, pastries and the cold! Winter is my favorite season. History, particularly the Medieval and Victorian times.

My interests revolve around creativity and you could say they're my hobbies as well. Drawing in particular, I used to do digital but I'm stuck with traditional pencil and paper at the moment. I'm dipping my toes into painting and its very fun! Obviously writing and reading and if I'm not doing of those listed then I'm definitely playing video games.

Personality I might say I'm quite split down the middle. At first, to a complete stranger I might come across as cold, stoic, with a resting bitch face, that just wants to get whatever I'm outside for done so I can leave. I'd create a witty or sarcastic comeback if I was given sass by a Karen but with my speech issues? I'd be lucky to get one coherent word out at her...and spend the rest of the day fantasizing what could've happened. So I'm rather quiet, agoraphobia hits hard in large or crowded places so I'm an anxiety riddled mess on the verge of a panic attack. In private or with people that I'm comfortable with? Complete opposite. Happy, bubbly, cracking puns and jokes so get those groan worthy reactions. I try to be the "mom friend" and get over my issues if someone is having it worse, I'll march up to a counter and ask for ketchup if someone wanted it but was too scared to do it themselves. The shoulder to lean and cry on, I'm highly empathetic and understanding, compassionate at times. But I have to actively try and keep myself positive and say good things about myself because I do fall into the pit of self-loathing and hate.

For appearance I'd say I'm average height, pale with white splotches that are inching larger due to my vitiligo, chubby, ashy blonde, blue eyes, button nose. I'd say I'm decently cute? I don't know if I can rate myself.

Okay I know I said I'd be looking into Zodiac compatibility for this but— I literally just screamed internally "KIRISHIMA" when I was reading this. You two would be perfect omg. This Libra king would do anything for you. For this you're an artist and the daughter of a mafia boss :) I like to think of ship names sometimes so like, yours would either be like Eijmay or Mayjirou or Kiriloe— that last one and first are awful I know so lets go with the second? I can't write a proper stutter for the life of me so I tried to keep your dialogue to the minimum.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ Pairing: Eijirou Kirishima

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀AU: Mafia

⠀Theme Song: You're The One That I Want - Alex & Sierra

How you meet (his point of view):

⠀⠀The gallery was full of black and white suits, tight, floor length dresses with the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses meeting his ears. It was a joyous evening, celebrating the wonderful art work created by the boss's daughter. He had never met her before but he had heard whispers, all good as no one would dare slander the name of their leader's precious little girl. You were the boss's pride and joy, thus he kept you as far away from the darker side of the family business as possible.

⠀⠀Kirishima was still a new hire, a bodyguard of sorts and would consider this his first gig. He had an idea of who he was looking for as he walked further into the mass of people admiring your work but didn't expect what he would eventually come across. You were as far away from the crowd as you possibly could be, guzzling glasses of wine and over all appearing to be a deer in headlights. He couldn't fugure out for the life of him why you seemed so frightened until he watched people approach you to talk, noticing the stutter in your voice when you replied to questions and greetings,your body language telling people to stear clear of you.

⠀⠀So, he did what he was hired to do. "Kindly step away from the lady." He said with a smile, approaching with his large arms crossing over his broad chest as he towered over the guests. They looked at him as if he were a giant shark looking to devour them before scurrying away, leaving the two of you alone. He stood quietly, listening to the voices on the other side of his ear piece as his ruby eyes scanned the area around you. He made sure to not stand so close and avoided in letting his gaze wander.

⠀⠀He couldn't help but admire your skin in quick glances, finding the spot over your eye to be quite adorable. Your silky, ask blonde hair was all dolled up for the event, light make up on your face but not enough to cover the vitiligo. You were stunning and his heart hammered against his chest. So the rumors were true.

⠀⠀You thanked him, voice quiet and careful as you set down your wine glass and clasped your hands together. Out of the corner of his eye he watched you twiddle your thumbs. You didn't want to be here, did you? This obviously wasn't your idea, how could it be? A girl like you, timid as a mouse, didn't want to be surrounded by strangers. "Miss..." He began, thinking carefully because the last thing he wanted to do was piss off the boss and likely get himself killed. But this was his job wasn't it? Making sure you were happy and safe? "Would you like to leave here for a bit? We'll come back of course, but you look like you need some air."

Extra.

He ended up taking you to a drive thru restaurant and got you whatever you wanted, letting you talk about whatever you wanted or sat quietly if you chose not to talk at all If it was quiet in the suv then that was fine too, he just wanted to help you in any way he could. Eventually the silence becomes small talk and then leads to a rather deep conversation about whatever the hell was going on inside that beautiful brain of yours. Kirishima wasn't the smartest man but he wasn't stupid, he wasn't as clueless as most thought he was. You told him how your father made you do this as an attempt to get you out there, to socialize and possibly find a suitor. This was the mafia after all.

The Confession:

⠀⠀It was a tradition now, every Sunday you and Eijirou would go to your favorite café to have coffee and enjoy the early day weather before it got too hot. You sit at the same table, in the same chairs with him facing the door. You get the same drinks and food and just overall enjoy each others company. After that night at the gallery you two became fast friends, which your father obviously had to approve of but thankfully he did. Kirishima was a good man, he's trustworthy and puts you before himself.

⠀⠀The day he approached your father and asked to speak in private was the day he knew he was likely to get thrown in the deepest, darkest depths of the ocean. He has confessed his feelings for you to your old man, who listened intently with a blank face behind his desk. "Sir, I'm in love with your daughter, and with your blessing I'd like to... court her." He was utterly terrified when your father cleared his throat and sighed, shifting where he sat so he could stand and move around the desk. He reached out for a handshake which Kirishima looked up at him with a questioning look.

⠀⠀Your father gave his blessing and now... He just had to tell you, his best friend, that he loved you. God he loved you so much— "Kiri," you interrupted his thoughts, bringing him crashing back to reality," a-are you alright? You seem nervous." He swallowed hard in response but cleared his throat, taking a sip of his cappuccino.

⠀⠀"Oh yeah— definitely." He breathed with a laugh, moving a hand to the back of his neck to scratch. How was he going to say it? "So, uh—" he licked his lips, adjusting himself in his seat multiple times until he groaned and leaned forward. "Fuck, I'm just gonna say it— Maybell, I love you. I have for a long time now and I talked to your father and he said—"

⠀⠀"Said what, Eijirou?" Your eyes widened at his confession and he felt like a complete idiot. Should he had said something to you first? Was this a mistake? What if you didn't feel the same way? God his mind was going to explode—

⠀⠀"That I could... court you. With your permission." You were quick to nod and smile to his surprise, which prompted a grin if his own.

Extra.

Kirishima HAS to be facing the door in any public place you go to. I don't make the rules.

He never let's you walk close to the road, he has to be between you and it at all times when you're walking.

He oders your food and drinks for you when you can't but is there for moral support when you do. He wants you comfortable and happy. He wouldn't ever dare get in your way though, you're a lot stronger and braver than most may think you are.

The Relationship:

⠀⠀On days like this, Kirishima can't help but admire you. He catches himself staring wuite often but he just can't help it. What did he do to deserve such a beautiful partner? He looks at you and all he can think about is how much he loves you and wants to see you smile. He watched you from the kitchen island, leaning against it as you waltz around the kitchen in your pinky fuzzy slippers and one of his shirts that's much, much too big on you. He remembers your surprise when you found his clothing was actually too big on you and how happy you were.

⠀⠀"Maybell?" He hums, adjusting his stance and crossing his arms on the counter. He listened for you to him back in response, a smile on his lips. "You look so cute in my clothes.

⠀⠀You giggled, shaking your head and continued putting the dishes away until Eijirou appeared behind you, arms wrapping around your waist and his forehead coming down on your shoulder. "Need somethin' baby?" You turned your head just slightly, a brow cocked inquisitively. He squeezed you in response, swiftly lifting you and making you squeal. Thankfully you didn't have anything in your hands at the moment. He peppered kisses all over the side of your face, setting you down only to lift you again bridal style.

⠀⠀"I've got all I need right here in my arms." He chuckled and you playfully smacked his chest, letting him carry you to your shared bedroom.

Extra.

TICKLE FIGHTS.

He thinks your sneezes are the cutest thing in the world.

He loves your god awful puns, they crack him up every time.

Adores the fact you're a nurturer, especially with your friends. He thinks you'd make a great mother but if that's something you don't want he respects that.

You take care of everyone, but who takes care of you? Eijirou is always there to be your shoulder to lean and cry on, he's your sound board and is always happy to let you talk about your feelings with him. You're allowed to not be happy and bubbly all the time, he realizes how staying positive all the time can actually do more damage than goof, especially if you bottle everything up.

If on a particular day you're struggling with your speech he's happy to be your voice as well. He understands you better than anyone, even your own father.

Speaking of your father, he can't wait to make Eijirou his son-in-law! He's a good man with a good heart and treats you right, what's not to like?

He has trouble saying no to you and spoils you quite a bit.

The Fights:

...

Extra.

There's nothing, what you say goes and all he can say is "yes dear". He knows better than to argue with you, however when he's right and he knows he is, he finds a way to prove it without making you mad.

The Sex:

⠀⠀"Fuck baby—" he hissed, hands finding your hips and guiding you as you rub yourself on his cock. Your hands are on his thighs and your head is tossed back, giving him the perfect view of your tits. God he loves them, he loves the plush skin of your stomach and your thighs, your ass too, he loved seeing all of you. He was so happy that you allow him this privilege of seeing you, granted you've been dating a while now but still. Your sounds are music to his ears and all he wants is to make more, make you feel so good you're calling his name and making a mess.

He wanted— no, needed, to feel you, to feel inside your warm and wet cunt, to feel it squeeze him and milk him dry. He was quick to flip the two of you over, careful to not hurt you as he did. You gasped and giggled, reaching up to hold his face as he smiled, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. He loved your taste, he could go on and on about all the things he loved about you all day if he could. "You want it baby?" You nodded excitedly, lip caught between your teeth. He smirked and reached between the two of you, thick fingers tracing a line between your lips and slipping inside your soaked pussy.

"D-Daddy—" you whine, a slight pout on your lips as your face morphs into one of pleasure. He chuckled, pumping his fingers in and out a few times before removing them and grabbing his cock. He coated it more in your slick, guiding it between tge lips of your cunt before slowly pushing inside, groaning at how tight you are. You squeal of course, gasping for breath because Kirishima is an impressive size, you still struggled to take him sometimes but like a good girl you always managed.

"That's my good girl." He cooed, moving so his forearms were on either side of your head. He gave a couple test thrusts, waiting for you to adjust u til you nodded for him to continue.

Extra.

Terrified of activating his quirk while he's fucking you, but he keeps himself under control.

He loves his hair pulled and he loves to be bitten, he especially likes it when you scratch his back when he hits that good spot.

Eats you out for his pleasure mostly, but for yours as well. He loves when you grind on his face and moan his name when you do it. Speaking of, please sit on his face, he loves that shit. He knows how to be careful of his teeth!

If you have pets they CANNOT be in the same roon when you're doing the do, it's just weird.

He'd happily bend you over in the kitchen and do you right there. Hell, he'll fuck you anywhere you deem suitable.

He likes to do a mixture if praise and degradation with you, and edging and overstimulation is a big go-to. He just loves seeing you squirm under him, hr loves hearing you beg and say you need him.

#dreamer's 800 follower event

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 4 years

Text

Witcher Of The Night (Chapter 4)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

CHAPTER 3

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Ciri wanted chicken and so she gets one. Y/N needed warmth amongst the cold weather in the Forest of Kaedwan and she'd received more than a warmth for her body as it traveled straight to her heart; warming her soul. Even getting some sort of comfort from the witcher himself. Other than that, Geralt had a lead on where the sorceress was. Though, right now he needed her to help you Plus, he also had other options other than that.

Warnings: FULL OF Y/N AND GERALT FLUFF. ❤ Geralt is an asshole at first because of certain reasons. 😂 Blood and animal killing in this one. Smiling, soft Geralt, tho still having that stoic expression of his of course. Gotta write him completely in character. 😂 Also, a Hirikka is here and will be on the next chapter!

Words: 3,900+

A/N: There's a part 2 for this chapter. It'll be a chapter 4.1 but will be posted after 2-3 days. ^u^ I couldn't put them together because it'll be 8-9k words long. 😅😂 Sorry, if I write long ass chapters and the pace is still slow. I need to develop their characters, relationship and such. The places said here are from the game however it isn’t accurate and I just made my own direction. Like how I try to make my life go in the right path but failing and actually walking on the wrong path. LMAO. Also, I’m making a masterlist for WOTN! 🤗

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE!

Disclaimer: PNG's used in edits are not mine even the GIF's too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi. Characters, places and said monsters aren't from moi as well.

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

"Do you not...have cars, Geralt? Or motorcycles?"

You've panted like you were having a marathon, palms falling on your knees as you took a breather; seeing a small cottage on the far end of the shallow path in the forest.

It was a smaller house that had a fence with chickens, goats and pigs segregated by kind. The home was a sandy shade of yellow and a slip of brown which was also made just like how Geralt's have been.

No answer was given to you other than how he was hauling Roach back to look at you who were walking along side with him; not bothering to even ask you for a ride. It's not like you were hoping he would. Based on the change of mood he'd gotten, you were sure he won't lend you his horse to lessen your difficulty in traveling bare foot.

You've already asked what his horse's name was. He simply answered with the word 'Roach', allowing you to touch the horse as she neighed. Much to someone's dismay; specifically a bard who happened to saw the whole interaction, left a mutter to himself.

"Why does the midget get to touch Roach in haste and I don't?!" Jaskier muttered rather in disbelief. The Witcher fixing his black, hooded wool cape attached to his shoulders, giving him a subtle hum with the gravel of his voice.

Jaskier huffed for the third time, hands on his hips as he watched the scene before him with incredulity in his baby blue peepers. You happily caressed her crest as Geralt fixed things on the leather bag attached to the horse's hip.

"Geralt---" Jaskier started but was cut off with a insouciant scold from the man himself, "Don't call her midget," he cut him off without even paying him attention. Jaskier gave a nod; a grin molding his face leading to mischief at the chide given.

Jaskier took a step close and planned to give Roach's crest a caress but his stern friend was fast enough to cease his wishes, "Still, don't touch roach," Geralt quickly mumbled as he felt Jaskier's plan on touching his horse. The bard slyly grabbed onto his own hair, brushing them through his locks like he wasn't about to pet Roach. Geralt closed the bag with a soft click, giving him the side-eye; voice firm and full of derision, "I don't want you singing a song about my horse in the near future,"

Which is why you were walking on your own now with Geralt's good will on making you handle the death march rather like a happy child.

It was probably okay, you thought at the back of your mind. Walking, that is. Exercising in the morning was great, except that if it weren't too chilly unlike him who have gotten a full armor and gear out of his closet like he'd gone out of a magazine or animè. The sword on his back even giving you shivers, but a different kind because of how tough looking he had as his exterior.

You shook your head as he just looked back at you. That look of his that was filled of inquiry; asking you what you were saying in the back of your mind. A huff of pure exhaustion was given to The Witcher before you sauntered forward, leaving the man eyeing you with sass and a high raise of his bushy brow.

Geralt followed through along with Roach as he pulled her reins, slowly galloping as he analyzed your form from behind. His buttoned up tunic that reached the ends of your thighs with a weird kind of foot ware that certainly doesn't help with the crispy, brisk temperature of the forest.

Geralt gravelly sighed, watching you struggle with scrubbing your legs together as you pathetically strolled forward and onto the place that he'd pointed. He was too engrossed at seeing you struggle when he has heard a slight twig breaking from afar, catching his senses and making him look to where it came from.

"Midget," The Witcher tried calling you with that deep voice of his in the middle of the woods. Though, to no avail; you never heard him coherently and continued your stroll through the forest; hollering a message without even looking back because of the mere exhaustion.

"You're too slow, Geralt, like an old man! I'm exhausted!"

He breathed out his vexation of your naivety that you weren't strolling in your world. You were walking in theirs and having your own little dimension while you walk by yourself can be pretty dangerous.

Geralt heard the crack of another wood. It was from behind a large hickory tree. He doubtfully grabbed onto the handle of his sword wrapped behind him; halfway unsheathing the sword and contemplating if he needed to jump off his horse when suddenly a medium sized Hirikka came into his view, maybe an inch shorter than you. Those eyes that were doe, just like yours whenever you wanted something and eventually getting it from him.

"You're hungry, aren't you?" Geralt asked the Hirrika. The tone in his voice softer and in awe. He'd rummaged through his bag without taking his Aurum, blazing eyes away from the harmless creature, feeling an apple inside his bag and threw it as the Hirikka caught it with its own two paws.

"Don't get yourself killed out there,"

Thus, he began to follow you as fast as possible before you even get yourself harmed from any monsters. When he'd seen you leaning on the fences of Cuthberth's home, he didn't know he has been holding a breath for as long as he could remember without seeing the sight of you.

You were making him insane for not even waiting for him and thinking what would've attacked you in the forest of Kaedwan.

Cuthbert was feeding the chickens inside their palisades. His friend thought you were lost but you've said that you came for the purpose of buying chickens with a man. He was friendly enough to give you chitter-chatter while waiting for Geralt to follow you from behind. It took minutes before he arrived with a complete set of body parts; so the worry of him being killed off by a monster was thrown in the dumps.

As he rode his horse closer, you've had the chance to admire the beauty edging to be seen. You were in awe as his mere self was enough to get you ogling at the man treading near. Never seeing such a man like that who wore armors in his everyday life except from seeing Cosplayers in certain conventions that seemed so fake rather than Geralt who felt real. Too real that you were pondering if he was just a mere hallucination or a fantasy of yours.

He was definitely eye-candy. Dashing. Ravishing. Beyond gorgeous.

Cuthbert saw them coming and so, his expression turned wild with a grin. His dirty fingers scratching his bald head in excitement as he jogged out of the fences with a giddy self. "Oi! You didn't tell me it's the infamous Geralt of Rivia, elfin!"

Famous. He's famous? you thought to yourself before keeping your eyes away from the witcher who had already jumped down his horse and gave you a look; asking what was wrong because you were staring like there was a problem at hand.

You didn't need to tell him that your heart was actually the problem. It was always skipping a beat whenever he'd pay a glimpse to stare at your eyes.

A soft clear of your throat, your fist covering your mouth as you do and you eyed Cuthbert inquisitively, "Is he famous? Famous for what? Is he an actor? Model? The king of this kingdom or something?"

Cuthbert patted his dirty hands on his soiled apron full of flour, a hand on his hip while the other reaches out for Geralt's powerful looking shoulder in attempt to give him a pat. The animal butcher's forest green eyes coruscant of fervor. Geralt's initial response was to give him a smile back with the man's excitement in seeing him again, "This lad's a something! Kills all types of beasts, vampires, dragons, huge kikimores---"

You coughed out loud, making them snap their heads from where you stood. Cuthbert's words sounded too surprising to be true. As much as you remembered, vampires only existed in the movies and games; not in the real life survival of people. His words caught you off-guard, "Vamp--vampires? There's vampires here, Cuthbert? Even dragons?"

Geralt looked at you, utmost jaded. The way your voice stuttered alerted him that you were scared or probably still unfamiliar--still illiterate of their world since he was doubting to give you all the information ahead if you abruptly disappear out-of-nowhere with the knowledge of the continent; their world. It would be very much dangerous for it to be compromised especially that you had the experience in teleporting to their dimension.

Cuthbert gave a loud laugh, not believing the strangeness of your words, "You're actin' like yer’ never been here before! I thought yer’ were livin' with the Witcher?! You should ask the white wolf, here! He's killed hundreds! Maybe even thousands!"

You've fluttered your eyes closed, trying to calm yourself from running off the forest and getting yourself killed just like the horror movies you've watched. You've called them idiots, now wasn't the time to call yourself one as well.

Though, you were completely unaware of Geralt's gaze which consist an ample amount of worry. You continued your rambles in a hushed whisper, "I'm not just in a freakin' game that have monsters, but even a live-action movie of Twilight. This is great, real great."

The Witcher clenched his teeth, gradually turning his body to you without moving his soles. His forehead creasing as he could feel your heart beat quickening, "Are there also wolves? Big bad wolves here?" your voiced lowering a miniscule, sounding diminutive.

His friend gave off a shrug, his mouth forming a thin line when he did so as he scratched his whitened beard, "We may never know what this world can bring, Elfin! It always brings out the worst of everythin'!"

At the confident mention of that, you've felt your chest tightening with the knowledge of having vampires and dragons around. What if you died in their world? Would you also be dead in earth? Geralt licked his Crimson lips, staring down at you with utmost comfort that he could give. Yet, he failed at that with how stoic his expressions can get. Though, his eyes were exempted because his feelings can be read through those stern, Aurum eyes.

Midway, he'd lift his burly armor-coated arms to plan and give your back a caress to calm you down; but he was immediate enough to drop it down considering that maybe even a touch to the hand would calm you because he'd seen it trembled. If only he was thoroughly direct towards you; he would in a heart beat.

"Don't panic, Midget." The roughness of his voice; that definite amount of timbre. It was the only word you've heard from him. Short but straightforward. Even so, still the only thing that calmed you down through out all your panic attacks back in earth and even in their world.

Cuthbert has seen Geralt's attempt of comfort; even seeing his eyes shift in a way that nobody else could. He had a smirk on his face, scrubbing that beard he was owning, "Who is she, Witcha'? Another one of those clingy harlots of yours?"

Geralt turned his head to see Cuthbert smirking. The way his eyes changed into a lethargic faze meant that the witcher was mantling the emotions he was having or probably having no idea that he was feeling it yet; in denial of the state he was in.

"---Or the trouble and strife?"

The witcher knew what he meant and decided to let those words fall out of his ear to the other. His hands clasping together on his front as he straightened his back, cocking his head to the side as he narrowed his eyes on the latter, "We need...chickens," Cuthbert raised his eyebrows in astonishment, "You cook now, witcher?"

No words were said besides from a satisfied hum as the chickens clucked before the butcher of animals. The panic died down because of Geralt's voice and you've finally had the will to insert yourself in the conversation.

"I do!" you excitedly exclaimed, stepping a foot closer to Geralt and the witcher was aware of it, giving you the side-eye, "---also, do you have any spices please?"

Cuthbert nodded in comprehension, sending a playful wink to The Witcher and scrubbing his hands together as he also gave you a rogouish smile, "Oh, that kind. The little woman, Geralt! Literally because this elfin is quite short but fetching nevertheless!" Geralt gave him an apathetic blink of an eye, sighing from the talkativeness of the man.

But, also worth it if he could see those anticipated beams of yours as you stood beside him.

The latter gave out a loud sigh, seeming to be in his head space as he talked his thoughts out loud, "---I remember how Gisela cooks Flamiche for me whenever I go home from me' hunt! Though, that woman seldom does it anymore considering how Bridgely gets her attention a lots!"

Geralt gave him that daunting smile of his; wanting to tell the man to just butcher the heck out of the chickens already as he wanted to get it over with. You gave Cuthbert a wide smile, oblivious of Geralt's taunting gaze back at the man. He suppressed a laugh and nodded to himself; quickly running off to Geralt's wishes.

As the chicken was being slaughtered across the fence, Geralt was thoroughly unaware that you were already sniffing and crying because it was all out in the open and you could see how it was being killed. He watched you look over the fence and inspect Cuthbert cutting its head off and it made you shriek, warm tears falling on the sides of your face while watching how much pity you've given to the chicken.

Geralt did a double-take, eyeing you and where you were staring at and saw how you were crying over a chicken being slaughtered. He wanted to laugh because of how you were being sad over it. However, he decided against so as to not offend you when you were just pouring your heart out in this one.

"I thought...you wanted chickens?" the witcher pondered, leaning away from the fence and facing you instead with that amused glint in his eyes.

You've sniffed hard, patting your nose with his clothes that you were wearing from; the snot wanting to come out of its cave. You gazed up at him; eyes damp and reddish from the cries. "I did, Geralt! But not for it to be killed like this!" you hiccuped from all the bawling that has happened, "---It was better to be bought in a supermarket!"

The way you cry always made a pinch inside Geralt's heart. A kind where he would try and do everything to make it stop because you were annoying but also irresistible.

His lips lifted in a slight beam, looking around the forest before peering down at your sobbing thyself. "There, there," surprisingly, Geralt cooed before you; stopping your weeps short as you gaped at the tall witcher. His chiseled face warped in clear softness and mirth, "---for a bountiful feast requires death in exchange for us to be sated,"

The amazing color of his eyes gleamed more under the sun. You couldn't help but outstare back at him with that stupefied look of utter adoration. You snapped out of your daydream when he was waiting for a witty retort but you've loudly cleared your throat; the heat travelling to your neck. Before it can even reach your face, you turned your head back to look at Cuthbert who was now grinning back at you; holding the headless chicken up for you to see. Its blood dripping down the ground as he mouthed a 'what do you think?' back at you and Geralt to tell you if the size of the chicken was a-okay.

Your face quickly morphed into a wince, another mourn about to come to light when you've felt a warm hand on your shoulder; shooting lightning to your spine as you jumped from the physical touch. Geralt gently turned your body around; away from the panorama of chicken slaughter. The way his lips lifting in a small, soft smile never leaving yet. "Don't look at it,"

A huff was sent to the latter, "I can't! It's making noise!"

"Then cover your ears," Geralt's brow raised in sarcasm. Though, those playful sparkle never dying down. You narrowed your eyes back at him, an annoyed crease of your forehead as you explained and raised your hands back at him. It looked dull and definitely freezing, "But, my hands are shaking from the cold!"

Geralt studied you from head to foot, noting the lack of clothes you were wearing. The smile you've grown to love fell as he sighed, looking away for a moment before a tiresome gaze of his eyes was sent to you. He held onto the string of his jet black hooded cape, unlatching it around his neck as you stared up at him in utmost curiosity.

The softness of his cape fell around your shoulders like a furnace hugging your body; better yet the soul that needed a hug after all you've experienced since the first time you've been in their world. You could feel your heart warming at the gesture of Geralt giving you his dramatic cape; even growing hotter when he was tethering the tie together; intently staring down at your face and feeling his thick, calloused fingers inches before your neck.

Maybe, an egg was worthy of using your face as a frying pan right now.

You consciously looked away from the heat of his stare. Geralt tightened the tie around your neck as you've felt the heaviness of his cape over your shoulders. He drew he fingers away from your neck, slanting his head as he never cut the gaze he had; rather than you who'd looked away because you were...blushing.

"Better?" His voice graveled, a small beam carving his face. You've reluctantly gawked back at him, giving him a reserved nod. The way you were acting looked entirely stupid, your eyes looking like those googly ones used as stickers back in your desk as you tried avoiding the intensity of his stare. You bit the insides of your cheeks, deciding to leave the exhilaration out in the back as you had the courage to look at him, "Better!---Never better, Ge-Geralt!" Regardless of the brave act, you embarrassingly stammered and cited his name wrongly with a shameful 'J', "I mean, Geralt. Geralt with a G!" you back paddled in an instant, scratching your temples as you avoided his eyes and tried to fan your face.

The witcher looked askance, he could hear your heart beat running miles after miles. Geralt pondered why and what was making it pump fast when you weren't even having your panic attacks.

He crossed his hefty arms, looking at you skeptically but with a stupefying smile on his face, "Are you going to stop being a bairn now?"

You initially stopped fanning your face, narrowing your eyes back at him; completely confused, "What's a bairn?" he sighed and glanced at the sky, shaking his head with a beam that fell as quick as you've seen it when Geralt heard Cuthbert walking to where you were and glanced at the acquaintance.

The dead chicken was tied close to the witcher's bag located on the hip of his horse. You were busy staring at the four pieces of aftershafted chickens dangling on Roach's side with that sympathetic glaze of your eyes but actually talking at the back of your mind that its death would be worth it because you cook well and he'll taste good.

Cuthbert scrutinized your nodding form. A strange expression written on his face that tells that he was seeing the oddity that you were nodding at the chickens like you were talking to them.

The animal butcher was running his blabber mouth about how his chickens were also missing every other day. Sometimes his pigs or goats that made Geralt narrow his eyes from his share of message; his nose slightly scrunching from the admission of Cuthbert with his missing animals.

He didn't need to know that some were kind of caught by Geralt's hands. Maybe at least ten chickens, three pigs and two goats. Even so, slaughtered by the witcher himself.

The sneaky witcher couldn't catch a chicken as of the moment because he always does it at night. Catching a chicken from other people's fence in the morning can be risky and definitely tricky.

"About...the sorceress," Geralt trailed off, grabbing Cuthbert's attention away from you before he could even think you didn't belong to their world and guessed about his stealing escapades. He spun his head to look at Geralt, thoroughly distracted from how he called him out, "---you still hangin' onto that sorceress you had, witcher?"

"No...It's....kind of complicated," the latter speculated with a shake of his head.

Cuthbert nodded in understanding, scratching the nape of his neck as he seem to ponder, "The tittle-tattles around the village says that the sorceress is in a burgh called 'crow's perch' in the east of Vizima," pause. "It's a long journey out there! Lots'a beasts to encounter before it!" he roughly warned.

The Witcher only hummed in response; deep in thought as he calculated how long will it take to get there after a week when he was done with any favors for the villagers of Kaedwan and for some of his options on how to get you home.

His first choice was the Djinn. Now, he just needed to find one. Again. But, not for the sole purpose of asking peace and a long nap but to help you.

Geralt fished out the black pouch he kept on his sides, reaching out to give it to Cuthbert across the fence. The animal butcher shook his head to decline the money, "No, I don't need yer' coins." he simply admitted with a scoff, "You've helped us a lot; for me to be accepting some kind of repayment from the white wolf himself---,"

"----You deserve a thank you for all your help, Witcher." Cuthbert continued with a grateful tone.

Thus, this was the first time that he'd been acknowledged by his help in slaying monsters and terrifying creatures. The man himself didn't know how pleasing it was to hear those words from a mere human and from a person he'd help back in the years. Even so, seeing those smiles you've given him when you were excited to cook the damn chicken didn't seem so satisfying and delightful to look at; until now..

MORE FLUFF ON CHAPTER 4.1! Heehee! THANK YOU FOR THE LOVE, TATER TOTS! AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO LOVES GERALT CALLING Y/N, MIDGET?

Taglist: @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @vania-marie @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @missjenniferb (I couldn’t tag you AGAIN bud! A different blog was popping out of the recommendation and it wasn’t your blog. Though, I’ll try again on the next update! Don’t worry! Tumblr is being DUMBLR RN. I’M MAD) @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernatural

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r3volutionary-queen · 4 years

Text

It’s very late and I should be sleeping but here I am lying in my bed wide awake casting the MCU as the Princess Bride and imagining a whole damn crack!fic.

Here are your players:

Steve as Wesley, good ole farm boy with an unexpected lawless side and a whole lotta sass.

Tony as Inigo Montoya, brilliant with a good heart but obsessed with finding his father’s killer (the man with the metal arm) and is rather fond of drinking.

Bruce as Fezzik, gentle giant who legit is the only reason why Tony is still a functioning human being.

Bucky as Count Rugen, a bad guy with a metal arm who killed Tony’s parents, beats the crap out of Steve (and somehow of course I’d find a way to bring him to the good side because I’m the author and I do what I want).

Loki as Humperdinck, melodramatic as fuck and just wants to be king (priorities, people).

Darcy as Princess Buttercup, not nearly as stoic or helpless but is terrified of giant rats and definitely has perfect breasts.

Thor as Miracle Max, betrayed by Loki and now a hermit who dreams of exacting his revenge and a really good MLT.

Jane as Miracle Max’s Wife, tiny and batshit crazy and likes to chase Thor around while calling him on his bullshit (firm believer in true love).

Clint as the sick kid, isn’t too sure about kissing scenes at first but very okay with them by the end.

Natasha as the Grandpa, voice of reason and secretly an old man.

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todorokiaimee · 5 years

Text

An Interview with The Todoroki’s

A Blues In The Night After Story | Art by @raikiriart

INTERVIEWER: Our readers want to know everything about your relationship and to be honest, I’m quite curious myself. Let’s start at the beginning. How did you two meet?

SHOTO: We met at our favorite coffee shop. I would always see her by herself reading a book and one day I finally got the courage to talk to her. Honestly, it was a bit of a disaster.

AIMEE: He almost killed me twice before he ever asked me out.

SHOTO: That’s a bit dramatic, Love. (An adorable blush flashes across his face)

AIMEE: He tired to one-up my snide comment with one of his own which resulted in me choking on my coffee. Then later I caught him off guard and he almost barbequed me with his fire. (She giggled while giving her husband’s hand a tight squeeze.) I had never seen such an adorable side of this usually stoic man. And the next day he asked me out on a date and the rest is history as they say.

INTERVIEWER: I see, then I have a question for you Mr. Todoroki. What would you have done if Aimee had decided not to go out on a date with you? Or worse, was currently dating someone else?

SHOTO: Hm, that would be obviously regrettable. I can’t think of spending my life with anyone else but Aimee. If she just turned me down, I would probably ask her again at a later time, try my best to win her over. If she was with another man, I would have no choice than to wait patiently in the wings until it dissolved.

AIMEE: Aw, you’d wait for me, cher?

SHOTO: Without question.

INTERVIEWER: What’s it like being married to a top Pro Hero?

AIMEE: It’s a little weird, to be honest. I feel so incredibly safe. Between my husband, his friends, and my father-in-law, I know my daughter and I are very well looked after. But it’s a double-edged sword. We do attract attention, sometimes unwanted attention, but that’s part of the package. I was already used to the stares from being a minority here in Japan but it’s just intensified since I started dating Shoto.

INTERVIEWER: Do you feel accepted by the Todoroki family, Aimee?

AIMEE: Of course! I couldn’t ask for better in-laws. Even King of the Grumps Enji. Although nowadays, we call him Pop-Pop which I find insanely adorable. I really feel like part of the family. They are my family since my mother passed when I was young and my father is serving his sentence in America.

INTERVIEWER: Do you think your mother would have approved of Shoto?

AIMEE: Absolutely. He’s exactly the kind of man my mother would have wanted for me. I do think she would be surprised that I ended up with a Pro-Hero through. And let’s be real, I could do a lot worse. (She laughs, giving her husband a playful nudge.)

INTERVIEWER: Forgive me if this a difficult subject, but have you been in contact with your father since his sentencing and deportation?

AIMEE: I have. I can’t condone the things my father has done, but I understand why he did them. Grief can make a person do crazy unthinkable things. I give him a call once a month and send him letters with pictures of his granddaughter. He’s still my father after all.

SHOTO: He’s still family. He’s remorseful and doing his time. We don’t want to keep him from Kiseki but we’re also not bringing her to a prison. So we send pictures, and she’ll talk to him on the phone. She doesn’t quite understand his situation at this age, but we’re doing our best as a family.

INTERVIEWER: How do your students feel about your marriage to a Pro Hero?

AIMEE: Well, not to brag but the kids get super excited when they find out they’re assigned to my class. They love it when Shoto stops by. A lot wonder why I still teach with my husband’s income but I would miss and worry about my students too much. I love my work.

INTERVIEWER: How do you two handle the bridge between your two cultures?

SHOTO: Aimee has lived in Japan since she was a preteen so she was pretty familiar with mine by the time we met. However, I had to give myself a crash course in hers. I think my biggest faux pas was touching her hair without permission.

AIMEE: I keep telling him that he gets a free pass because he’s my husband.

SHOTO: Even so. (He chuckled giving his wife a knowing smile.)

INTERVIEWER: How do you deal with unwanted attention as an interracial couple and family?

AIMEE: It’s never easy. My instinct is to tell the haters off but only makes the situation worse. Plus we’re trying to set a good example for our daughter.

SHOTO: I often have long conversations with Pro Hero Rock Lock. He’s also in a happy interracial marriage with 10 years of experience over us. He stresses that as long as your family is safe, you should let the comments roll off your back. That being said, I’m not above intimidation if it saves my wife and daughter’s feelings.

INTERVIEWER: Speaking of your daughter, you’ve chosen such a unique name for her. Is there a story behind that?

AIMEE: Well when we decided to have a baby, I struggled to get pregnant. My doctor diagnosed me with primary ovarian insufficiency or premature ovarian failure. It’s a scary way of saying I have lazy ovaries that don’t produce eggs as often as they should. We were told my chances of getting pregnant were slim. But after a year of fertility treatments, I was finally pregnant. Our miracle baby. So we named her Kiseki, the Japanese word for miracle. And we also gave her the middle name Anette, after my late mother even though it's not a Japanese practice.

SHOTO: Our little one is too special for only one given name.

INTERVIEWER: Wow, that must have been difficult for you.

AIMEE: Oh I was devastated when I found out. I felt like less of a woman. Here is this one thing that women are just supposed to do, are expected to do in many cultures and I couldn’t. My body was betraying me.

SHOTO: I felt so utterly useless to her as well. It broke my heart to see her in that state every month. Not being able to fix it and save the day nearly killed me. However, we pressed on. Starting a family was too important to us to give up. Actually, giving Aimee her hormone shots had become sort of a bonding experience.

AIMEE: We used to have little dates where he would meet me at school during my planning period to give me my shot which was time-sensitive. We would look forward to it.

SHOTO: And of course, we enjoyed the other process of making our little princess.

AIMEE: Cher! (They giggle with blushes on their faces.)

INTERVIEWER: Who does Kiseki take after the most?

SHOTO: She is her mother’s daughter for sure. So kind and curious. She also has a lot of her sass and smart mouth, but somehow it never meant to be that way. She’s just telling her unfiltered version of the truth.

AIMEE: Oh, you should tell the Halloween costume story! (She giggles.)

SHOTO: (He chuckles.) Kiseki wanted to go as Endeavor for Halloween this year. Before I ordered it for her, I asked her again to be sure. “Are you sure you want to go as Pop-Pop? Not a princess or maybe even Daddy?” She just shook her head and said matter of factly, “No I want Pop-Pop. Your costume is boring, Daddy.”

AIMEE: (She laughs.) That’s my girl! Telling it like it is. But to be honest, Enji’s costume does have actual fire.

SHOTO: Maybe one day she’ll appreciate her father’s minimalist style. (He chuckles.)

INTERVIEWER: Do you have any clue what her quirk might be?

AIMEE: Well her quirk hasn’t manifested yet but judging by her appearance, she’ll probably have a variation of one or both of her father’s quirks. She has white hair and blue eyes, so it’s possible she could have both fire and ice quirks.

SHOTO: She could also have a variation of yours, my love. As far as we know, your quirk isn’t tied to appearance. So I suppose to answer your question, your guess is as good as ours. We’ll love her just the same quirk or no quirk.

INTERVIEWER: What kind of father is Shoto?

AIMEE: He is such a doting, overprotective father. While I was pregnant, I wasn’t allowed to lift so much as a finger. Given our history struggling to get pregnant, he was so worried about every little thing during my pregnancy. It would have been cute if it didn’t drive me crazy. (She laughs.)

SHOTO: Pardon me for worrying about my wife’s and child’s well being. (He smirks.)

AIMEE: You would have thought I was suddenly made of glass. (She giggles.) But I couldn’t ask for a better baby daddy. Our little girl wants for nothing and there's nothing he wouldn’t do for her. If she asks politely, it’s done. She’s a total daddy’s girl too. Unfortunately, that often makes me bad cop and him good cop.

SHOTO: (A light blush forms on his face.) I can be firm too sometimes.

AIMEE: Sure, cher. Sometimes. (She smirks.)

INTERVIEWER: Do you think you’ll try for more children?

AIMEE: We’re open to the idea, I think. Right, mon cher?

SHOTO: We certainly wouldn’t say no to another child. I think Kiseki would be a wonderful big sister. I know my father would love another chance at a grandson.

INTERVIEWER: What’s your favorite thing about each other?

SHOTO: Her eyes. They’re so expressive. She can bend me to her will with a single look.

AIMEE: His voice. My husband’s a man of few words but he always knows just what to say. Plus I’m a sucker for his deep baritone.

INTERVIEWER: Many of our reader see you two as “couple goals.” For our last question, do you have any relationship advice?

SHOTO: Never stop trying to win your partner over. Don’t let the romance and intimacy die after you’ve been committed to each other.

AIMEE: I totally agree. It’s the little things that matter most. Cooking a meal for your partner, taking the time to write them a little love note on a post-it. The little things that say I love and appreciate you, go a long way. And of course communication. Every relationship needs good communication to thrive.

SHOTO: Yes, you must acknowledge the good and talk through the bad. Enjoy the journey and cherish your loved ones. I know I do.

MASTERLIST

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lovelyirony · 5 years

Note

55. “Just smile. I really need you to smile right now.” Tony and Sharon

Sharon is known for being the cousin that mediates most family drama. She’s the one who calms down the arguments that are from heated political debates, drags grandpa away before he can make a comment about the newest girlfriend introduced.

She’s the mediator, always there with a kind smile and a positive attitude.

So Tony’s a little surprised when she joins SHIELD, even though she takes classes for dance, language, and marksmanship. He’s always thought of SHIELD as a super-secret agency filled with stoic people and Aunt Peggy, who takes everything seriously and makes a super bad sweet potato casserole that no one eats and they all take turns throwing it away when Sharon distracts her.

Sharon’s always good at distraction. Tony knows this, has known it since he was twelve and she was nine and she managed to get the last of the pie that he had served himself.

But she could never keep a secret from him, and she knows that. She doesn’t even try to hide it when she comes to his apartment because she still lives close to her parents and she can’t bear them to see the stitches in her thigh.

“Mission gone wrong,” she says, voice harsher.

“Where at?” Tony asks.

“Just local. A couple of bad guys in the wrong part of town.”

“Too close to politics?”

“Got it in one.”

Tony’s silent because he’s not sure what else to say.

“How can I help?” he asks finally.

“Don’t ask,” Sharon warns, smiling. “It’s all fine.”

“You can say that when you need to get Aunt Josie out of the kitchen when she tries to take over cooking the turkey, not about a secret mission,” Tony says. “Because you have stitches in your thigh and you came to me, who is the Bad Cousin Example for the next two or so generations.”

Sharon smiles.

“And what, am I suppose to pretend you don’t make jokes and make the uncles mad at you to distract from the other cousins that we all know would get it worse?”

"Yes,” Tony says, “you’re supposed to do exactly that. Except not pretend, because I don’t do that out of kindness. I do it because if I have to hear one more damn speech from one of our uncles about ‘the good old days’ I’m going to go feral,” Tony remarks.

Sharon smiles and asks for a beer.

“You’re a baby, barely over twenty-one,” Tony teases, handing her a beer anyway. “But tell me how you beat the bad guys.”

She doesn’t always give specifics with her missions. He’s not expecting her to. But she comes home and she still smiles and he loves that about her.

It’s when he comes home with the taste of sand and blood in his mouth and a defined legacy when she smiles gently and asks whether or not they have time to stop for a burger.

“The shittiest burger imaginable,” Tony says. “Because I’m not going to your fancy place. To Burger King.”

“The hospital!” Pepper yells. “Oh my god Happy, don’t you dare...”

“I’m the one who has to sign your paychecks,” Tony says. “Burger King.”

Sharon gets caught up in something soon after Iron Man is born. He can’t keep a secret from her, but she can keep a secret from SHIELD. He’s depending on that.

And it’s when he gets palladium poisoning and she knows. She’s listened to enough rants about his inventing to know that palladium is dangerous with exposure ratings.

She does not smile. Her lips tremble and her eyes are wide as she crawls closer.

“Please smile for me,” Tony asks, eyes watering. “Please.”

“How can I?” Sharon whispers. “How can I smile when I know you’re dying?”

They sit in silence for a few moments. Tony looks out at a skyline that he’s quite sure he doesn’t have too much longer to see every night.

“Let us help,” Sharon adds quietly.

“And have me owe your company? You guys don’t do anything without a motive,” Tony says.

“I’ll owe them, not you.”

“Fury’s not that stupid,” Tony adds. Sharon looks to him. “I’m not totally clueless. Keep your enemies close and all that.”

“You saying SHIELD is your enemy?”

“No, I’m just saying they’re not on my Christmas mailing list for a reason,” Tony retorts. “I don’t care. They’ll have us both owing debts and cashing in at the most inopportune times.”

“You’re dying.”

“And I can manage,” Tony says harshly. “God knows there are other people who can take over my job, my life. And maybe...maybe this is how it’s meant to be.”

“It’s not,” Sharon says, scowling. “Because you’re Tony, who refuses to eat the gravy every year out of spite because Aunt Angie told you that one day you’d like it and you want to see how long you can go with disliking it and not trying it in front of her. You make robots that are sad when they can’t press an elevator button and then you make sure they can. No one else here is like you, so quit that and start fucking looking. You find different angles, so stop looking at the same ones and start the big picture of your life.”

The Stark Expo. Because of course his old man is still schooling him in some aspects. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth until the coconut and metal hit.

But Sharon smiles, and then he forgets how to do anything but smile back and promise to not make her sit at the kids table for Christmas if she can go.

“Deal,” Sharon says, grinning. “But you have to bring a home-cooked item and make everyone try it.”

“I can cook,” Tony says defensively. “I just don’t keep track of time very well and thus am banned from using family heirlooms.”

“And using stovetops at different houses,” Sharon giggles. “I’ll see you soon. Go kick ass and don’t sass Nick. You know how he hates it.”

“I’m gonna,” Tony responds. “Tell Natasha that the long curls aren’t a good look.”

“I definitely won’t.”

#sharon and tony: a duo #sharon carter #tony stark #sharon and tony are the ultimate cousins who are the closest and bond a lot #loveyirony writes #pepper potts #iron man #agent 13

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grigori77 · 5 years

Text

The Works of Ridley Scott - My Top Ten

So I decided I’d drop another series of big post lumps of spam on you guys by rocking my favourite directors’ works by rating my personal favourites of each, and I figured what better place to start than my absolute number one, so here we go - these are my very favourite films of my absolute cinematic IDOL, the master of British auteur filmmakers. Enjoy ...

10. EXODUS: GODS & KINGS

It takes a really ballsy filmmaker to try and make a big budget live action Ten Commandments movie after Cecil B. DeMille’s monstrous Technicolour epic, but guts is something Scott’s never been lacking in, and the result is one of his most striking offerings of recent years, a meaty revisionist take on the Book of Exodus that jettisons most of the mysticism to concentrate on the gritty human struggle at its heart. It’s the story of two warring brothers and the lengths each is willing to go to in order to achieve their opposing ends, and while Scott typically delivers BIG TIME on the spectacle and immersive world-building, where he really shines is as an actor’s director, here rightly focusing on the deeply complex relationship between Christian Bale’s Moses and Joel Edgerton’s Pharaoh Ramesses II. The end result is a lesser known but no less worthy swords-and-sandals epic than his signature entry to the genre.

9. PROMETHEUS

Like many fans of the Xenomorph saga he helped create, I was excited but also understandably wary of his return to the franchise with a proposed “prequel”, and to be honest as an Alien movie this actually is a bit of a mess, trying a little too hard to apply that connective tissue and ultimately failing more than it succeeds (indeed, as a franchise entry, direct sequel Alien: Covenant is a far more successful effort). Personally, I’ve always preferred to simply consider it as a film in its own right, and as a standalone sci-fi horror thriller this is a CRACKING film, insidious, atmospheric, moody and magnificent in equal measure, Scott weaving a sense of dangerous mystery and palpable dread throughout that grips from enigmatic start to devastating finish. Noomi Rapace is an excellent Ripley-substitute, but the true breakaway star of the film is Michael Fassbender as twisted android sociopath David, just as chilling as the horrors he unleashes on his unsuspecting crewmates.

8. THELMA & LOUISE

To be brutally honest, Ridley’s output in the 1990s was largely unimpressive (White Squall left me cold, while 1492: Conquest of Paradise was technically brilliant but discouragingly slow and disjointed, and I think we can all agree cinema would be better off if GI Jane had never happened), but at least he got the decade off to a strong start with this beautiful, lyrical, heartfelt and undeniably powerful tale of unerring friendship triumphing against fearful odds. It may have been directed by a man, but it was written by a woman (Callie Khouri, creator of TV’s Nashville, who rightly won a Best Original Screenplay Oscar for her astounding work) and is unapologetically told from a woman’s point of view, which is finally becoming an accepted thing in blockbuster filmmaking, but back then it was still a new concept, and you have to applaud Scott for being one of its pioneers. It may be most well known these days for giving Brad Pitt his big break, but the film’s focus is VERY MUCH on Geena Davis and Susan Sarandon as the titular friends, forced to go on the run after an innocent night out goes horribly wrong. After becoming one of THE hot ticket date movies of the 90s, it’s still fondly remembered for its heartfelt message, gentle humour and powerful climax.

7. BLACK RAIN

Probably the closest Ridley ever came to capturing his brother Tony Scott’s more popcorn-friendly brand of super-slick, glossy blockbuster fare was this Japan-set fish-out-of-water cop flick, but he couldn’t help adding a real weight and substance to the final product, and the result is one of my very favourite thrillers of the 80s. Michael Douglas was riding high after his Academy Award win for Wall Street, but his performance as hot-headed maverick NYPD detective Nick Conklin has always been my personal favourite, and he shares strong chemistry with a young Andy Garcia as his wise-cracking partner Charlie Vincent, but the film’s understated secret weapon is heavyweight Japanese character actor Ken Takakura as Masahiro, the stoic, by-the-book Osaka police inspector they’re forced to team up with in order to capture rogue Yakuza underboss Sato (a deliciously feral turn from the Yūsaku Matsuda in his very last screen role before his death just months after the film’s release) and bust an international counterfeiting ring. This is definitely Scott’s glossiest film, but there’s hidden depth behind the neon-drenched visuals, the expertly staged set-pieces perfectly countered by a robust story, precision-crafted character work and bucket-loads of emotional heft (especially surrounding the film’s high point, one of the most devastating character deaths in cinematic history). It may not be held in the high regard of many of his more “sophisticated” films, but in my opinion it’s just as worthy of recognition, and I’ll defend it to the death.

6. THE MARTIAN

Scott’s last truly GREAT film (to date, anyway) is also one of his most effortlessly likeable, a breathless, breezy and thoroughly FUN adaptation of the bestselling debut novel of space-exploration geek Andy Weir. Matt Damon must have been born to play Mark Watney, an astronaut in the third manned mission to Mars who is accidentally left for dead on the surface when the crew are forced to evacuate by a catastrophic dust storm; alone and with no means of escape, Watney must use all his scientific smarts to survive long enough for NASA’s desperate rescue mission to reach him. He’s a thoroughly endearing everyman hero we can’t help rooting for, self-deprecating and oozing sass all day long, and in his company the film’s two-and-a-half hours simply RACE by, while one of Scott’s strongest ever supporting casts (which includes Jessica Chastain, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Sean Bean and a glorious scene-stealing cameo from Donald Glover) once again proves that he really is one of the very best actor’s directors around. Thoroughly ingenious, visually stunning and frequently laugh-out-loud hilarious, this is definitely Scott’s most endearing film to date, about as perfect a popcorn flick as you’re gonna find outside the MCU …

5. KINGDOM OF HEAVEN (Director’s Cut)

Certainly the most maligned film in his oeuvre, this has perhaps the most troubled production history of ALL his works, famously mauled in post as 20th Century Fox rushed to get the still unfinished feature ready enough for its summer 2005 release, the clunky theatrical cut understandably met with mixed reviews and somewhat underperforming at the box office. Thank the gods, then, for Scott’s unerring perfectionism – he couldn’t rest with that lacklustre legacy, so he knuckled down and produced what is, in my opinion, the very best of all his director’s cuts, reinstating an unprecedented FIFTY MINUTES of missing material which doesn’t just flesh out character arcs but frequently creates an entirely new, far richer and MUCH more rewarding overall narrative, and the final feature was met with thoroughly well-deserved critical acclaim. Not only is this one of my favourite Ridley Scott films, it’s one of my very favourite historical epics PERIOD, a magnificently rich, sprawling saga of blood, sex, honour and courtly intrigue as we follow blacksmith-turned-knight Balian (Orlando Bloom in one of his very best roles) on his quest for redemption in the Holy Land at the height of the Third Crusade. This is still one of the director’s most expensive films, and EVERY PENNY is right there on the screen, each scene designed to perfection and dripping in astounding period detail, while the sweeping cinematography is some of the very best in his entire catalogue, and the battle sequences so expansively vast they even put Gladiator’s opening to shame. So, far from being his greatest folly, this was ultimately one of Scott’s greatest triumphs, and I can’t recommend it enough.

4. BLACK HAWK DOWN

In my opinion, this is the absolute PEAK of Scott’s cinematic achievements to date as an action director – almost two-and-a-half hours of relentless blood, bullets, smoke and terror that’s as exhilarating as it is exhausting, as emotionally uplifting as it is harrowing, quite simply the DEFINITIVE portrayal of the bonds of brotherhood forged by men under fire. The film tells the story of the Battle of Mogadishu in 1993, 24 blood-soaked hours in which US military forces were trapped behind enemy lines and besieged on all sides by hostile Somali forces after a botched raid saw two Black Hawk helicopters shot down, precipitating a snowballing military catastrophe and a bitter fight for survival. Certainly the film takes many liberties with the historical accuracy (then again that’s pretty much Hollywood’s standard approach regarding true story war movies), but there’s no denying it perfectly captures the desperate chaos the soldiers must have faced on the day, throwing the viewer headfirst into a dusty, noisy hell and refusing to let him out again. The action sequences are some of the finest I have EVER seen committed to film, but the film has just as much heart as guts, tugging our heartstrings and jerking plenty of tears because we really come to care about these boys and what happens to them. Intense, rousing, explosive, provocative – definitely the action highlight of Scott’s oeuvre.

3. ALIEN

It may have some decidedly humble beginnings, but the opening chapter in the other jewel in 20th Century Fox’s sci-fi franchise crown is now considered to be THE greatest science fiction horror film of all time, and rightly so – it’s a textbook example of a flawlessly-executed high-concept “haunted house in space” flick, a master-class in slow-building atmospherics, sustained tension and some truly hair-raising shocks that are as fresh and effective today as they were back in 1979. Not bad for something that started out as a pulpy B-picture script from Dan O’Bannon (co-writer and star of John Carpenter’s cult feature debut and one-time student film Dark Star). The cast is stellar (ahem), dominated OF COURSE by then pretty much unknown young upstart Sigourney Weaver in what REMAINS the greatest role of her decidedly impressive career, but the true star of the film is the creature itself, the late H.R. Giger’s twisted, primal design teased with consummate skill to maximise the stealthy effectiveness of what has become the definitive extraterrestrial nightmare fuel of sci-fi cinema. Ultimately I’m more of an Aliens fan myself, but I don’t deny that this is a MASTERPIECE of the genre, and I f£$%ing LOVE IT.

2. GLADIATOR

It may have been usurped by Kingdom of Heaven as Scott’s most ambitious film, but his first dabble in swords-and-sandals cinema remains the best of his historical epics, and at the time proved to be a MASSIVE shot in the arm for what had long become a flagging, largely forgotten genre, spawning a veritable LEGION of bandwagon-jumping followers. Needless to say, NOBODY does this better than Scott, who brought the opulent excess of ancient Rome and its vast empire to vivid life in all its bloodthirsty, duplicitous detail, from the back-stabbing intrigues of the Senate to the life-and-death drama of the Coliseum. The script is rich and heady stuff (penned as it is by former playwright John Logan), exquisitely performed by a premium-cut cast (particularly impressive was the late Oliver Reed in his very last screen role) and bolstered by some of the most impressive battle scenes ever committed to film, but the true driving force of the film is the ferocious antagonism between the hero and villain, Russell Crowe and Joaquin Phoenix both making the transition from rising-stars to genuine A-listers with major box office clout thanks to their truly electrifying performances. After his relative creative slump in the 90s, Scott’s first offering of the new Millennium proved the start of a major renaissance in his work, and thankfully it’s shown no sign of flagging since …

1. BLADE RUNNER

Not only is this my favourite film by my favourite director, but also what, if I was REALLY PRESSED, I would have to call my very favourite movie EVER. I’m gonna be waxing most lyrical about this in great detail when I drop my big-screen sci-fi Top Ten on here, so I don’t want to talk about it TOO MUCH here … suffice to say this has been a dominant fixture in my favourites since my early adolescence, when I first stumbled across it on TV one Saturday night, and even though it was the theatrical cut with its clunky voice-over and that ridiculous tacked-on happy ending, I was instantly captured by its searing visionary brilliance and dark, brutally nihilistic power, so when Scott finally released his first Director’s Cut I was already DEEPLY in love with this film. Sure, being a Star Wars fan, Harrison Ford will ALWAYS be Han Solo for me (along with Indiana Jones, of course), but my personal favourite role of his career is Rick Deckard, the sleazy, downtrodden and world-weary android-hunting gumshoe stumbling through his most deadly case in the mean streets of rain-lashed cyberpunk megalopolis Los Angeles circa 2019, while Rutger Hauer effortlessly steals the film as his mercurial nemesis, live-fast-die-young Nexus 6 Roy Batty. This is still THE MOST BEAUTIFUL FILM I HAVE EVER SEEN, the visual effects work still standing up perfectly today, the exquisite design work and peerless atmospheric cinematography rightly going on to inform and influence an entire genre of science-fiction both on the big screen and off, and I cannot recommend it enough to anyone who hasn’t already seen it. Deliciously dark, fiendishly intelligent and heart-rending in its stubborn refusal to deliver easy answers or present us with a cathartic HAPPY ending (no matter what the theatrical cut might want you to think), this really is as good as cinema gets.

There you have it, my top movies from the man I personally consider to be the greatest filmmaker around tody, and here’s hoping we’re gonna see a lot more from him yet ... Sir Ridley Scott, knight of the f£$%ing realm ...

#Ridley Scott #sir ridley scott #exodus gods & kings #prometheus #thelma & louise #black rain #the martian #kingdom of heaven #kingdom of heaven director's cut #black hawk down #Alien #gladiator #Blade Runner #greatest director of all time

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musicallisto · 4 years

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Hi! Would I be able to have a MCU and HP ship please? I am a straight girl, standing around 5’3 with shoulder length brown hair and green eyes. I’m curvy, quite pale, and I hate to tan. I’m very sarcastic and have a bit of a caustic wit. I’m quiet till you get to know me, but that doesn’t stop my sarcasm. I’m loyal, stubborn, ambitious, and a Ravenclaw. I’m a bit cynical, and a mix of a pessimist and realist. I tend to be a neutral good or a chaotic good, and I’m an INTJ. Thanks!

I Ship You With...

Tony Stark

What would draw Tony to you would be your stubborn and ambitious nature. Sure, it can get a little tiring at times, because you’re not one to throw the towel, and you’ll push until you get what you desire with sometimes little regard to the collateral dammage you may cause, but in a way Tony is that way too. He has great ambitions as well that you mirror perfectly. He doesn’t stop at the first inconvenience - nor at the twelfth, for that matter. He’s unafraid to compete and fight for what he wants - it’s a good thing what he wants is you.

Truth be told, you’re not the most optimistic of the bunch, and sometimes the others’ chippery, cheerful atittude to everything gets on your nerves. Although Tony appears confident and detached, he’s riddled with insecurities and traumas and he had a hard time believing that life could hold anything good in store for him after everything he’s been through. You don’t like losing yourself to hopeful, unrealistic outcomes either... but sometimes, a little bit of carelessness and abandon are necessary as to not sink under the weight of your past and your fear. It’s one of the more vulnerable sides of Tony and yours’ relationship, when you allow yourselves to think of the future not in death counts and everything derailing, but in a way-out. A way-out to where and a way-out of what, you’re not really sure, but dreaming of out is sometimes just enough.

Needless to say, you’re one badass couple, and the others normally don’t mess too much with you... normally. When they do, however, it’s light-hearted fun that you appreciate because you always find the best comebacks to shut them up. Even Tony himself, king of sass, is bewildered by the witty remarks you hold in store and how quickly you react, not missing a beat. You defend yourself with so much casual fierceness that he almost thinks he won’t craft you an armor for yourself.

(He does still, partly because he likes to feel in control and that’s a way of having an input in your safety, but mostly because it gives him an excuse to play mad scientist again.)

He quickly finds another excuse, though... when he’s working on a project in his lab, you come to read a book by his side or just spend time in the same room as him. The clatter of tools and vague scent of oil, that you normally would loathe, is somewhat calming when they’re coming from him. And it’s always a little bit adorable to hear him mutter to himself and frown in confusion at where this piece is supposed to go.

He concentrates better when you’re around, he finds... so he makes it a point to have you in the same room as him when he’s working, unless it’s too dangerous. Maybe you’ll even prompt him a few ideas if he’s stuck.

James Sirius Potter (New Generation Era)

Every adventure needs its archetypical heroes, even if the wizarding world. James fills in the role of the leader and the jokester at the same time, keeping the party entertained and on its toes; Albus Severus, when he tags along, is so sweet and gullible that he makes for great bait (although you object to him being muddled with your antics... sometimes), Rose, taking a lot after her parents, is both book smart and street smart, and has creative ways to get out of any sticky situation... and, well, every posse needs its stoic, sarcastic yet fiercely loyal and not-so-secretly affectionate member, and that’s where you come into play.

All the group adores you, obviously, but James and you are the life of Hogwarts in ways that differ from his parents and his grandparents, at the Marauders’ time. You have your inside jokes and a great deal of humor, and most of the students would deem you the most likeable couple in all Hogwarts (and maybe some professors would agree as well).

Sometimes James would make a fun light-hearted comments about your pale skintone, because he knows that you don’t take them personally and they’re all jokes in true Potter fashion, but if anyone ever dares to make an unpleasant remark he will throw hands. You will probably before him, metaphorically speaking though, because you have such great wit that you remain unbothered by any attempt at getting under your skin, but James has learned about the numerous instances of bullying in this school - seriously, do the teachers not do anything? Don’t they keep an eye on their students? -, and he doesn’t want anything of the sort happening to you.

He’s surprised that you are a Ravenclaw with how well you get along with him and with his Gryffindor friends. You have to remind him that a Hogwarts House doesn’t define much about one person and certainly not anything about their value - he could have been sorted into Slytherin, for that matter! He tries to shrug it off and play it cool, but you see him shudder nonetheless. Old prejudice dies hard, you suppose. For the quality of its education, Hogwarts should maybe reinforce its defusing of house stereotypes...

But he can be surprisingly caring when he wants to. He has been around great, solid relationships all his life, namely his parents’, but also more recently Teddy and Victoire’s, and because he’s an observant kid he knows all the faux-pas he must avoid and the mutual respect you’re owed. If you’re not in the mood for physical affection, he won’t force it upon you, even if I imagine it’s his favorite love language. If you are, however, he won’t hesitate to indulge in some PDA... after all, he’s proud of having you as his girlfriend, and he’s certain the castle needs to know it as well.

He won’t shut up about your marvelous intelligence and your bright, green eyes until the last ghost and the last painting in the last corner of the last wing of the castle know all about you. You become weirdly popular among people you’ve never talked to before... and you suspect James Sirius might be beyond all that.

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adultfansofonedirection · 6 years

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25 Times Harry Styles Was A Little Shit

The 8-12 raccoons disguised in a trench coat and pretending to run a functioning website ( @staff ) decided to delete one of our most popular posts, an ode to Harry Styles being a little shit for his 22nd Birthday without preamble or reason. Well you can’t keep a good bitch down just like you can’t stop Harry Styles from being a Little Shit so I’m remaking this post ANEW, FRESH FROM THE ASHES IT RISES TO BRING MIRTH AND MERRIMENT TO HARRY STYLES AND ALL OF YE ON THIS, HIS 25TH BIRTHDAY WE BEGIN...

...At the beginning.

1) Harry is but wee, but his penchant for mischief is already honed:

The problem we have here, friends, is that from a young age he learned he could annoy everyone to the point of breaking but that he was cute enough that no one was ever actually mad at him.

Harry that’s for the flight attendants and the passengers’ safety...ok fine one more knock-knock joke...

2) We’re jumping ahead to a more fully formed Harry as he fully embraced being a Little Shit on the OTRA tour. I mean...

You know exactly what you’re doing Harold. HAROLD.

3) Being a little shit, knowing we were all DYING to see the thigh tattoo, he chooses the teeniest-tiniest red shorts imaginable and dares to even look sexy playing DODGE BALL

4) wHO on EaRTh and gave this immortal alien being the cause to be such a little fucking shit getting a tattoo on live television and react to it thusly! >>>

HOW DARE YOU SIR? SIR! sir my eyes...

5) As Harry grew to bedevil and bewitch and be the pest everyone loves, Niall was caught in his path but ever his willing victim. Poor Niall...

But also lucky, lucky Niall...

6) When Harry went solo, he needed a new love of his life to harass constantly on stage...enter long-suffering stoic Mitch. The perfect foil to all of Harry’s little shittery

(Author’s Note: the above is in the author’s top ten of favorite harry photos of all time. it is his entire essence distilled.)

7) BEFORE SNL WITH THIS LIL CHERUB FACE BUT WE KNOW THE DEMON WITHIN you guys he literally sent kiwis out to the crowds waiting to get in and then played Ever Since New York like...wtf what a little shit

8) HE MIGHT ALSO LOOK SWEET HERE BUT AGAIN: THE DEMON INSIDE HIM LIES IN WAIT

9) the gall to be such a little shit and be like ‘oh the world thinks i’m sexy rockstar who reminds them of Mick Jagger but what they don’t know is that i’m also a huge dork who just wants to make people laugh”

10) The best, dumbest sketch and the true lasting melody of “oh-OH! OH-oh OH PARTY AT MY PARENTS HOUSE” is such a power play:

11) When this just...absolute...little...shit deciding that he would try his hand at acting and his first role would be in a Christopher Nolan war epic that was NOMINATED FOR MANY MANY AWARDS

I will make Christopher Nolan pay for making MY SON cry.

12) We’re not going chronologically but this is my masterpost so NEXT IS WHEN HE CUT HIS SIGNATURE LONG CURLS BY POSTING THIS PHOTO with just the caption “Whoops.”

13) i can’t...i don’t...just this

14) that one time he took his girlfriends fur (or ostrich feather, i can’t tell) coat and had a jokey little strop on the street holding to-go bags

15) Tour Harry when he’s annoyed because he knows he can absolutely take the shit out of his fans but we all know he’s kidding and it’s such a give and take my god i hate him but also in that i cannot. Please welcome Grand Master Sass

16) In the same photo shoot providing us with the likes of THIS

AND this!???!? why?!??! BOTH?! OH the dualitY OF MAN

17) Pink suit. This look. Sting. STING. Curls. WITH STING.

18) He wore leather pants exactly ONCE and it was to board a plane and NEVER again

19) Prancing. Wearing the world’s finest of suits and clothes and for thousands of people PRANCING for all he’s worth

20) He took his most rock n’ roll, fan favorite song that is sexy and gritty and a little weird and gave us...a video with puppies, children cake...and this fucking SMIRK

21) Speaking of Kiwi...let’s talk about the absolute SHIT creating a signature pose for his signature song

22) The tweet that sparked the original post. This moment is PEAK and still may top them all in terms of being the biggest Little Shit that ever shat

23) The man’s love affair with a Gucci suit and frankly all floral prints and inspiring an entire fandom to be a little bolder and a little braver in what we wear as long as we feel we can touch a little of his stardust when we wear things that remind of us him:

24) This Little Shit actually went on two world-wide tours within a year all with one album and this Little Shit did his actual best to keep prices on the tickets low so fans could actually see him and he’s one of the most well-known pop-stars in the world and would you believe this absolute Little Shit. Oh and he sold buttons with his toddler face on them as merch:

25) Finally, finally, finally he’s such a GODDAMN LITTLE SHIT HE IS KING OF THE LITTLE SHITS AND I COULD NOT POSSIBLY LOVE ANY MAN MORE THAN THIS ONE RIGHT HERE and how much he loves to make an entrance, vamp, and get all your love and give it right back. Happy birthday, to the one and only Lord Dame Sir Harold Elizabeth Styles. I’ll love you to Jeremy Bearimy and back.

#happy 25th birthday harry baby #i'll love you forever #and a little after that too #you little shit #harry styles #happy birthday harry #one direction #there were so many things i could've included #but had to cut back #and just add what i could find for each thing #like giving sassy interview answers #especially when it's annoying questions #but i wanted to include these #we'll keep adding as the years go on #love you all

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