#nobody ever bringing it up again or it just not being a thing anymore

[robocops-a-christ-allegory]

Ok so I made a chart explaining why Im constantly saying show Peacemaker is just Kupperberg Peacemaker and not actually a reinvention of the character while also saying Im pissed off comics Peacemaker is just show Peacemaker now.

I hope this explains some things.

[katsu28]

"Squeezing their hand reassuringly and holding their hand throughout an intense social situation" for Lando if you are still taking requests! I love your writing sm!!❤️❤️

thank you so much!!!

lando norris x reader, 1.5k. request something from here!

“I have good news and bad news. Which one do you want first?” 

You tilt your head at Lando as he slides back into his seat across from you, curious. He looks uncharacteristically serious. “What, did your card get declined or something?” 

“That’s—uh, excuse me? No.” Lando scoffs, scrunching his nose at you at the same time as he flips you off playfully. “My card did not decline, thank you very much. I’ll say it again, good news or bad news first?” 

“Good news first, always,” You insist firmly. 

Lando sighs, propping his elbows up on the table. “Good news, you got a free meal on me again. Bad news, there's a whole crowd of cameras and fans outside the restaurant right now and no way out the back.” 

“Oh.” 

Even just thinking about having to push through the whole gaggle of paparazzi outside has an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. You know you should be used to it by now, seeing as you’ve been with Lando for a while and known him even longer, but it’s not something you go through on a regular basis. You’ve tried your very best to avoid it, really. 

Without him, nobody notices you. You can blend in with others and not have to worry about whether or not your life is being looked at through a microscope. 

With him, you feel thrust into the spotlight. Even though you know they’re not here for you, they’re here for him, it doesn’t seem like anyone cares so long as they get a picture of Lando. Of course, not all of the fans are like that, but in your experience, things can get out of hand very quickly. 

“I’m sorry, love. I know how much you hate crowds.” 

“Um, yeah, it’s alright. I can handle it.” Your voice sounds breathy, even to you, and Lando takes notice, his brow creasing in concern. 

“You sure? I can leave now and you can wait here til it all dies down. I promise I’ll circle back for you,” He offers, tilting his head. He reaches across the table to take your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. Half of you wants to play it safe and take him up on the offer. It would be easier on yourself to take that route. 

At the same time, you don’t want to hide anymore. The greater part of you feels like it's about time you mustered up the courage to embrace the very thing that makes you nervous. Lando has to do it everyday, surely you can handle it once. 

“No. We’ll leave together,” You decide, firmer this time. He smiles and stands from his seat, ever a gentleman as he helps you up from your own seat. Your previous confidence takes a rather large blow when you get to the waiting area of the restaurant and actually see just how large the crowd outside is. You stop suddenly.

“I’ve got you,” He says softly. “I won’t let go of you.” 

“Promise?” 

Lando holds out his pinky towards you in a silent promise, a pre race tradition you’ve adopted to help him settle his nerves before a race. You study his completely sincere expression for a few moments before letting out a sharp exhale through your nose, hooking your pinky around his. Both of you bring your linked hands up to your mouth, kissing the side of your fists to seal the promise. 

A silly gesture from way back in his karting days, but the significance it holds now is set in stone. 

“Okay. Okay, fuck, let’s get this over with!” His fingers slide into yours now, squeezing your hand reassuringly just for good measure. 

It feels like a full body assault on all your senses coming from all sides the moment you step outside. Flashing cameras, screaming fans, being jostled around even as Lando pushes through the crowd first to try to clear the way for you. You make the mistake of looking out into the crowd instead of keeping your head down like him, and instantly you’re blinded by a series of photos being snapped inches in front of your face. 

You can’t see a thing anymore, vision swimming with white spots no matter how much you blink to try to get rid of them. You stumble on the uneven cobblestones, and Lando’s grip on your hand tightens, his other arm slipping around your waist to steady you before you trip again. 

“I’ve got you, don’t worry,” He says into your ear, holding you close. He’s the only thing keeping you from panicking, your anchor in the ocean of people as he forges on towards the car waiting at the edge of the sidewalk. “Here, step up. Yeah, that’s it, grab there. Watch your head.” 

You scramble into the backseat of the car as quickly as you can so Lando can climb in after you. The door slams shut, and all that remains is silence. No more clamoring, no more screaming, just the rumble of the car under you and the telltale lurch that you’ve started to move. 

Collapsing back against the headrest, you laugh, high pitched and disbelieving. 

“Are you alright?” Lando’s voice sounds strained, tinged with concern, and his hand squeezes yours again. “All in one piece? All your limbs still attached?”

“Ha ha. Very funny. I’m okay, I just can’t really see anything right now,” You sigh. Your vision is still fuzzy, even in the darkness of the car. If you focus hard enough, you can kind of make out faint outlines of your surroundings, but you know it’ll be a bit until you’ll be seeing things clearly again. Lando makes a worried sound, and you're sure if you could see him his head would be cocked to the side, brows pinched in the middle. “Just the flashing cameras, probably. Now I know why you wear sunglasses everywhere you go.” 

He laughs then, giggles at you like you've said something absolutely hilarious. “I told you why I always have them on me! Did you think I was joking?” 

“No, I just always thought you were being a douchebag.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Only douchebags wear glasses indoors, Lando. And blind people, but you're not blind.” 

“You might be after this,” He snickers. You shove him with a huff. Well, your smack hits something firm and he yelps, so you assume it’s him. “Ow, jesus—fine, I’m sorry. That was rude of me. I shouldn't be making fun of blind people.” 

“You shouldn’t be making fun of me! Why didn’t you bring them today?” 

“I did!” He insists. “I just…left them right here on the seat. Whoopsies.”

“Whoopsies.” 

The car returns you to Lando’s building, and thankfully by then your vision has returned so you can make your way up to his floor on your own. Lando’s gone quiet on the elevator ride up, which is a bit uncharacteristic of him. After a good meal like the one you’ve just had, usually he’s talking about how he wants to dive into bed and sleep for ten years. This time, he just stares at the changing numbers above the door silently. 

He wanders to the couch as soon as you get into the apartment, whereas you make your way over to the kitchen to grab some water. You grab a glass from the cabinet, not turning around as you ask, “Water, Lan?” 

“Do you ever regret it?” Lando sounds small, unsure. You freeze, wait for him to keep going, but he doesn’t. Confused, you turn around with the glass still in hand to see him not even looking at you, instead focusing hard on picking at a loose thread at the edge of his sleeve. 

He fiddles when he’s upset, something you’d learned quite early on in just being around him. He’s actually quite easy to read, really. Or maybe it’s just because you love him so much you’ve become attuned to his body language, what he does when he’s sad, mad, and everything in between. 

You give an acknowledging noise for him to elaborate, and he drops the thread, finally looking up at you. “Being with me.” 

“Now why would you ever think that?” You’re the concerned one now, rushing over to sit beside him on the cushions. 

He shrugs, letting his shoulders drop heavily. “I dunno, just…everything that comes with me, it’s a lot to deal with, y’know? Sometimes I wonder if you wish my life wasn't so…public all the time.” 

You take Lando’s face in your hands firmly, tilting his chin up so he's looking directly at you. “I will gladly take you and everything you come with. No matter what it is. I never want you to doubt that, my love.”

“I don’t,” He says softly, a flicker of a smile gracing his face. “How did I ever get so lucky with you?” 

“I think it was the knobby knees and giant head that really made young me go, yeah, I want that one. I think the sentiment still stands too.” 

Lando's smile disppears. Now he pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're mean. You're mean and I hate you."

"That was for making fun of me earlier!"

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[k0yaz]

shackled.

Pairings: arlecchino x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, arranged marriage, arle referred to as your husband, use of her real name, idk if this is angst so I’ll tag it as angst and fluff, wlw, I actually fucking hate arranged marriages irl but it’s interesting to write about, fun when it’s the character you like and not a 10 year old girl getting married to an ugly ass 60 year old man who gets no bitches, uhm anyway not proofread.

A/N: nobody gonna request arrange marriage? I’ll do it myself with my husband/husbwife arlecchino 🕯️

Uneven beats of your heart pulsed in your eardrums continuously as you stared out the open window, a cool breeze caressing your downcast face gently. Your pupils flickered down to your extended left hand, dilating smaller out of disdain upon catching sight of the cold silver ring encircling your ring finger.

You dreaded it. This arranged marriage parted an endless uncomfortable pit in your stomach, which you had felt would remain as long as you were trapped in a bind you didn’t want. Gazing down at ring once more, you couldn’t help but find it difficult to swallow the choked feeling in your throat whenever you laid eyes upon the ruby, nausea enveloping every possible sense you had in the moment. Rather than a promise ring that bound you to someone you loved, the one on your finger felt like a tiny silver collar clamped around your flesh. An irking feeling that forced you to love a stranger.

Yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate Arlecchino. The woman had actively attempted to respect your personal space, being able to tell how much you loathed the inescapable grasp of your arranged marriage. You could tell that she opposed even the thought of this, especially from the way her eyes would stare down at her own ring with an empty and unfeeling expression.

Sighing deeply, you reached an arm up to grasp the satin curtains, before tugging your arms inward in a single dynamic motion. As you turned your back to walk away from the now closed up windows, you felt a gust of light air brush against your nape, causing you to spin around and lower your eyes from slight annoyance. Right. You forgot to shut the windows first. You just went over to shut the windows, still harboring a hint of irritation. Ever since that marriage, you always tended to feel unwilling to do anything anymore. Frequently always irritated by the smallest of actions as you’d always think to yourself—what’s the point?

Upon closing up the windows completely, you fell back onto the intricately decorated sofa set situated in the corner of your shared bedroom, your mind still a cluttered mess from all your thoughts being scrambled rather than neatly arranged in an array. You began to ponder once more. How things could’ve been different. Ran away, or disobeyed your parents to a full extent.

There wasn’t anything you could do. You didn’t see a point in even trying to keep a happy front anymore. All of your aspirations that you had, every little dream, was now out of your reach as you were shackled into this marriage. The warm air of the heater hit your skin as you rested your cheek into your palm. A small smile made its way onto your lips as you mused at the possible scenarios that could’ve happened if you were free. Perhaps if you were wallowing in your delusion, you could smile atleast once.

“I’m home.”

You blinked from sudden surprise, jolting as the bedroom door creaked open—albeit a bit roughly. Arlecchino’s emotionless voice rang in your ears, had she called out upon entering before? She often enters the living room first, and doesn’t enter the bedroom until nightfall. Then again, you tend to reside in the living room to await your husband’s return, so maybe she simply wondered where you were.

Stray specks of blood decorated her cheek, scattering small splatters ranging in a variety of spots across her face. Right. She was the fourth harbinger after all. You folded your arms as Arlecchino towered over you, still standing upright while her x-marked eyes pierced into you. Shifting uncomfortably, you decided to clear your throat, gesturing towards your own cheek in an attempt to break the thick fog of tension between you two from the lack of words.

“You got some-“

“I’m aware.” Arlecchino replied coldly, making you bite back a scoff at the harbinger’s dismissive response. Well, excuse you for trying to make this shitty marriage more bearable.

Still, it didn’t seem intentionally rude although it did come off that way. You only looked away from her, eyes fixating on a random painting hung over the flower pot on one of the shelves. Hunching your shoulders, you bit down on your quivering lip subtly so that Arlecchino wouldn’t notice. Although you were the one that distanced yourself from her. Although you were the one who only focused on despising this marriage, rather than even trying to get closer to Arlecchino in the slightest for atleast a small hint of peace. It still hurt seeing your husband brush you off like this.

Her seemingly exhausted expression remained glued to her face as she dragged the folded white washcloth along her cheek, eyes staring at the ground aimlessly as she continued to clean her stained face. The weight of all of this had clearly taken a toll on her as well, yet she had to keep a sturdy front for the sake of her profession as a Fatui harbinger. Yet her actions regarding you had always been courteous and respectful. Consistently respecting your boundaries and trying her best to avoid making you feel uncomfortable must have taken a toll on her, especially knowing full well that your resentment for this marriage could have set you off at any given moment.

A sudden wave of sympathy flooded you upon seeing Arlecchino’s tired eyes, dark linings shaded below her eyes as well. Just maybe, you could try to repay her for having your comfort in mind throughout the course of this resented relationship. This relationship wasn’t her fault, and you knew that. She hated this just as much as you did.

Deciding to swallow your pride, you rose to your feet, standing before her as you awkwardly shifted for a couple moments while remaining standing there. Arlecchino paused her movements, raising an eyebrow at your sudden motion of getting up off the couch. She simply stared at you with a puzzled gaze, trying to figure out your sudden want to interact with her.

Hesitantly, you reached out a shaky hand, lining it up with her cheek and gesturing her to lean in. Arlecchino on the other hand, wasn’t expecting you to switch up suddenly like this, only keeping her skeptical gaze locked onto your own eyes. It felt like a trap to lean in to someone who was so hesitant to even look at her. No matter how badly she wanted to lean into the soft skin of your palm, her hesitance seemed to uphold her rationality despite her exhaustion.

“Arle…it’s okay, you can lean in…”

She needn’t be told twice as you felt her hand grab ahold of your wrist to keep it in place, her head nearly collapsing against your hand. Deep breaths echoed within the vicinity, her breaths cancelling every other noise around you two as Arlecchino slowly composed herself from your touch. She pulled back after a couple moments, her cold front faltering for a moment with a flash of tenderness, before immediately snapping back to her calm demeanor.

However, you didn’t stop there. You don’t know what flipped that switch in you, but you just felt the urge to grow closer to Arlecchino. Perhaps it was the realization that you weren’t alone in the hellhole of a marriage, and that you two may be suffering together. Knowing she hated this as much as you was comforting, it remedied your internal turmoil slightly, and made you detest the idea of anyone else going through what you were. Or maybe, it was the fact that Arlecchino didn’t push anything in this marriage, and respected you, preventing your mental state from growing worse. It could even be both.

Regardless, you wanted to atleast provide a sort of ease to her. Cupping her cheek once more, you pulled the washcloth from her hand, rubbing it against her cheek in circular motions as stains of blood began to soak up onto the cloth and coloring it red. Arlecchino didn’t seem to protest your attempt at soothing her, face pressing further into your shaky palm as it seemed to be working. The quiet buzz of the heater reverberating through the silence, and the general tidy atmosphere of the neatly arranged bed made everything feel so right. As if this marriage wasn’t so awful after all.

Arlecchino exhaled a swift sigh as you finished washing up her face, remaining silent. The two of you awkwardly awaited for the other to speak up, the crickets outside chirping louder than the two of you by this point. You finally decided to say something, face tinged a light pink from moderate embarrassment

“You didn’t want this either did you?”

Arlecchino shook her head in affirmation, her eyes still avoiding yours—as if she was afraid that your vulnerability would shift over to her, and shatter her calm self at this moment.

“I’m well aware of this situation. Your parents are already closely associated with the Fatui, and want wanted you to marry a harbinger in order to elevate their own status for the sake of the family.” She replied. A sour taste seeped onto your tongue at the mention of the reason why you were forced into this in the first place, unpleasant memories beginning to race through your mind for a few moments.

“Why did you accept the offer then? You could’ve easily declined if you didn’t want to be in this marriage either. There’s multiple other harbingers my parents would’ve auctioned me off to.” You said bitterly, strangely hating the idea of getting married to anyone who wasn’t Arlecchino at this point. Arlecchino merely shrugged in response, raising her shoulders to remove the white fur coat cloaking her and draping it neatly over the coat hanger drilled into the wall.

“I’m not sure.” She paused, taking some time to think over another answer to compensate for her vague response. “I believe I just felt it was necessary in that moment.”

You sighed back collapsing onto the mattress. Suddenly, you felt an arm circle your waist, pulling you closer as you felt Arlecchino push her torso flush against your back. Your face burned from the sudden intimate action, the warmth of her body only serving to make you lean into her further as her sharp nails raked along your stomach lightly. Arlecchino whispered out against you, visibly less uptight than when she came in. She was a bit more relaxed and clingy with you simply with a mere touch against her cheek, it was sweet honestly.

“I still care about you, (Name).” She muttered against your neck, voice muffled as she was evidently quite tired. Pale rays of the moonlight illuminated Arlecchino’s now eased expression, watching her eyes lowered shut as her exhaustion began to catch up with her. Surprisingly, you found yourself relishing in the comfort of her arms as you flipped onto your side facing her to examine her rested features.

“…I’m starting to care about you too, Peruere.”

Your hand drew down along her arm, all the way from the skin of her shoulder down to the black faded enveloping her arms from her curse. Maybe, just maybe, this could work. You found solace in the fact that you could make the best out of this marriage with a woman who kept you in mind and tried her best to care about your interests.

Maybe, you could warm up to her.

A/N: im screaming idk if this turned out good guys pls asaaawaabshshs but yayyyyy arlecchino MY CONTENT WARNINGS WERE ASS ON THIS ONE WHY ARE THEY SO BORING AND SAD ‼️

[cutielando]

hi love! i was wondering if you could write an imagine based of the music videoclip of ariana grande’s “we can’t be friends” and than with Lando x reader? the videoclip ends with ariana forgetting her ex boyfriend and they walk next to each other without knowing each other but can you maybe make the end with after reader removes her memories of her and lando they meet each other again ?

my masterlist

You hadn’t wanted it to come to that. To come to the moment when you wouldn’t even be able to be in the same room as each other without screaming each other’s ears off.

Relationships were not like how people depicted them to be. All sunshine and roses, endless love and no problems whatsoever.

You had wanted to believe that at the beginning. You couldn’t imagine Lando being anything other than a perfect boyfriend. You didn’t even want to pathom the off chance that he would ever hurt you.

And yet, there you two were, screaming at each other in the middle of the streets, dead in the night, under the moonlight and with nobody around. Monaco was silent and peaceful at this hour, but you two weren’t.

You didn’t even remember why you were arguing, what had got the both of you so riled up. It seemed like you didn’t need a reason to fight these days.

After that, after the fighting and the harsh words, came the break up. You should have seen it coming, should have done something to prevent losing the love you two shared, but it was too late.

Your relationship was beyond salvation. And it hurt. It hurt like a real bitch ever since you stopped seeing him walk through the door of your apartment, every time you went to bed and he was not there to hold you as you slipped into unconsciousness.

You felt him everywhere you were, saw him in every little thing you would do, every single day.

It had all been too much.

You couldn’t deal with the pain of losing him, of not being able to see him, feel him or talk to him.

Which is why you did the only thing that could help you.

Wipe your memory clean of him.

You couldn’t bring yourself to really do it at first. The idea of forgetting everything about him, every little thing that you loved about him and the way be made you feel, you didn’t want to live in a world where you would never know the way he loved you.

But as time passed and you saw how careless he was, how he was living his life to the fullest like your relationship had never even existed, that pushed you over the edge.

So you called the doctor and scheduled the procedure. Gathering every single memory that you had of him, anything you had that reminded you of him was stacked in a box and carried with you.

In the waiting room, as you read through the contract you were about to sign, sneaking glances at the box in your lap staring back at you, you couldn’t help but chuckle. Two years of your life with Lando fit in a carton box.

It was almost ironic how the most precious thing in your life fitted into a small box.

And soon enough, the contents of the box would forever disappear and everything would disappear from your mind like it had never even been there.

The feeling that you had after you opened your eyes post-procedure had been the best feeling you had ever had. You felt like you were floating, happiness coursing through every single vein and you felt like you were walking on sugar clouds.

You were carefree, not a single problem in the world.

Lando didn’t know about it. He had thought about reaching out, purely to see how you were doing and curious about how you were handling the break up.

He had hoped, as bad as he knew it was, that you were handling it just as badly as he was. He didn’t sleep the same, the sparkle in his eyes was gone and he wasn’t the same Lando anymore.

Everyone could see that, everyone close to him knew that part of him died with the break up.

He didn’t hear about it until he talked to your sister. She had told him about it, about what you had done, and it felt like he had been stabbed in the heart repeatedly.

You had been so hurt by his actions, the pain having become so unbearable that you had resulted to completely altering your memory to wipe everything good about your relationship from your mind.

Everything the two of you had shared.

He couldn’t live with that. He couldn’t allow that to be the end of your story.

He had to fix it. He had to step up and do the right thing, do right by you. But how?

It was simple.

You would start all over again. A clean slate, taken to a whole new meaning.

Which is why he was standing right now in front of you in the paddock, your sister having dragged you with her to the race and helped him arrange everything.

“Hello, how are you?” he had started the conversation, outstretching his hand and waiting for you to shake his.

You looked at him, seeing his eyes bringing a familiarity to your core but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Something in your heart told you this was no stranger to you, this was someone you knew.

But your mind didn’t register anything, completely void of any information about the man standing in front of you.

“I’m okay, really excited to be here for the weekend” your smile, just as beautiful as he had remembered it, clung to your beautiful face, reminding him of why he had fallen in love with you in the first place.

“I’m Lando, by the way”

“Y/N, it’s nice to meet you”

And maybe, just maybe, you would get another shot at love.

Maybe, this time, you would get your happily ever after.

He would make sure of that.

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[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | end up here

a/n: i'm going FERALLLLLLL over this chapter. enjoy poisoned mercury's debut album hehe.

iv. end up here by 5sos

series masterlist | previous | next

“your band name doesn’t even make any sense,” you argued, eyes narrowing at the boy in front of you. 

luke crashed your secret spot, again, and refused to let you smoke in silence until you gave him a detailed explanation of how your day went. he knew you didn’t smoke every day, only on days that were particularly hard. he noticed that your bad days always had something to do with your dad, but it didn’t feel like the right moment to bring that up. 

anyway, you got fed up with his badgering and that stupid smirk on his face because he knew you were about to crack, and decided that if he was going to act like a toddler, you would too. hence, why you were now bringing up his band name. 

luke took offense to that because he thought the band name was cool. he was the one to suggest it. he crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to let his hurt show on his face, “what do you mean? poisoned mercury is a sick name.” 

“mercury is already poisonous. your band name is like redundant or some shit.” 

“then why did so many people in history ingest it?” luke asked, recalling the one thing he remembered from his high school history class before he dropped out. he took a drag from his cigarette, turning his body a bit so the wind didn’t blow the smoke directly in your face. 

“they fucking died, castellan,” you replied, deadpan. 

“oh,” he blinked, staring off, “i didn’t know that.” 

you rolled your eyes, a habit that you’ve picked up whenever you were with him and sat back down on the bench. luke joined you, silent as he thought about what you just said. he really needed to stop zoning out during lessons, but since he was already out of high school, he guessed it didn’t matter anymore. 

as much as you hate to admit it, luke castellan was growing on you. sure, he got on your nerves like nobody else– the boy just doesn’t quit– but, he wasn’t half as bad as you originally thought. not that you’d ever tell him that though. 

when you got back to the cabin last week after helping with concert prep, the cabin was spotless. there were no empty red bull cans in sight, the table tops were free of crumbs, floor vacuumed and mopped, and there was even a candle burning on the counter. you approached your bedroom door to find a post-it on the handle. luke’s messy writing was smudged around the corners, but you could still make out what it said. 

“five star, 

i snitched on the boys and my mom will have a stern talk with them about their cleanliness. can’t promise that people will stop talking about me, but i can promise you won’t have to live in the dojo casa house mojo or whatever it was. 

ps i’m using the spot tomorrow, just thought i should let you know. maybe we can set up a calendar for reservations. 

luke :)” 

the cabin hasn’t been as messy since. whatever may castellan told the boys worked like a charm. there was still the occasional trash, but nothing crazy. it smelled better in the cabin too, still like a boy, but it smelled like expensive cologne more than anything. cedarwood and pine. 

and thankfully, the luke castellan hype train was starting to run out of steam, with many people finally realizing that he was also just a human being and the surprising revelation that luke castellan was not entertaining anyone during his time at camp helped with it as well. you still heard whispers about him here and there, but you were glad the topic of conversation was beginning to switch to something else. 

you and luke walked to the gym and back home every morning together. he and the boys sat with you and clarisse during meals. they tagged along for music lessons and spoke to the kids, which they really appreciated. they helped the older campers with writing music, luke particularly. you’d been around a few musicians in your life and many of them only kissed ass when your dad was around, but poisoned mercury was different. they were passionate about their music. that was clear.

after a conversation with clarisse, where she managed to convince you that not all musicians are like your ex, you began to let loose a little bit. you hung out with the boys more, partly as an excuse so clarisse could hang out with chris without causing too much suspicion, and found that you actually enjoyed their company. and luke castellan? well, he wasn’t half bad. that doesn’t mean he got off easy though. 

you took a hit of your vape, facing him, “are you done interrogating me?” 

“for now, yeah,” he smiled as you shook your head. “are you coming to the concert tonight?” 

“well, i did help organize it.” 

“a simple yes would’ve sufficed, five star,” luke teased, relighting his cigarette. it was burning unevenly and luke was never one to waste his cigarettes. “you gonna watch us play?” 

“don’t have a choice. dad wants me there the whole time.” 

“you can act a little excited,” luke ran a hand through his curls, “we are pretty good, you know.” 

“i know,” you hummed. the sun was beginning to set and there was a slight breeze in the air. goosebumps formed on your skin, the t-shirt and denim shorts you wore didn’t offer much comfort. you shivered, “i have listened to your music.” 

“are you cold?” 

your teeth chattered, but you shook your head, “i’m fine.” 

luke took off his hoodie, tossing it in your direction, “take it.” 

“no,” you tossed it back to him, “told you i’m good.”

always so stubborn, luke thought.  

“if you catch a cold, that’s not on me,” he placed the hoodie on the bench between the two of you. “which songs have you listened to?” 

“kilby girl, of course. it played on the radio so much when you guys first dropped it,” you said, remembering the days where you and your hometown friends would blast it in the car. it reminded you of high school, reckless decisions, life-long memories, and the thrill of knowing you were going to be playing the sport you’d worked so hard to excel in at a d1 level in the fall. you looked at him, sincerity in your eyes, “i really like family line. it might be my favorite.” 

luke’s eyebrows shot up. not many people talked about family line. it was probably their least streamed song. they never performed the song on tour because it was difficult for luke to sing it. it was a personal song to him. it was inspired by his relationship with his father, or lack thereof. 

when poisoned mercury first got signed to olympus records, luke sent a message to his dad on facebook. luke hadn’t tried to contact him since he was ten, not since his father returned his letter to him unopened, no response but a “return to sender” stamp plastered over the envelope. but after the small congratulatory party his mom set up for the band after they signed, luke felt like a little kid again, a kid who wanted to share the great news with his dad, so he found his dad on facebook, made an account, and sent him a message. 

he didn’t get a reply, which was expected, but it felt good for a second to pretend that he had a father to tell his good news to. luke thought he didn’t care about whether or not his dad was proud of him, but when his message went from “sent” to “read” a few days later, he was brought back to those moments in his life when he cried and wondered why he wasn’t enough to make his dad stay. he wrote family line in one sitting, on his bed in his bedroom in connecticut, looking at the little league medals on his wall that seemed to mock him. 

he originally didn’t want it on the album because he felt like it didn’t fit the vibe of the rest of the songs and that it was too real, too vulnerable for a debut album, but then he played it for his mom and she loved it. she cried when she first heard it and luke knew that even if people didn’t like the song, he was going to put it out for his mom. 

“huh,” he cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, “wasn’t expecting that one. thought you’d be more of a crash my car type of girl.” 

“i like that too,” you shrugged, “but family line. that song. i don’t think i have the words to describe it.” 

“thanks, five star,” luke looked down at his feet, taking a puff from his dying cigarette. “that’s my mom’s favorite, too.” 

“did you write it?” 

luke nodded, looking to face you. there was a new expression on your face, one that you’d never used with him before. it was a mix of disbelief and awe. he tried not to get offended that you didn’t think he could write something like family line, but he couldn’t blame you. he didn’t really portray the type of person who would be able to be that raw and vulnerable on a song. “me and trav write the lyrics for our songs, mostly. chris and connor help too, but the bulk of the lyrics are me.” 

“you need to stop doing that.”

he cocked his head to the side, crushing the cigarette butt on the hardware of the bench, “doing what?” 

“surprising me,” you shook your head, “i don’t like it.” 

“i don’t know what to tell you,” he chuckled, leaning back on the bench. he looked out into the lake, watching the sun disappear behind the mountains, “i have layers. you just gotta give me a chance.” 

“how do you do it?” you sat criss cross on the bench, leaning against the arm rest. “how do you write like that?” 

you’d always been curious about music, even if you weren’t good at it. your dad was never one to answer your questions, especially because you were interested in lyrics more than anything, and that wasn’t his forte. 

luke mimicked your actions, “i dunno. personal experience, i guess?”

you frowned, thinking about the lyrics of family line. luke never talked about his dad, but spoke highly of his mom. was family line based on his own life? if it was, his dad was an asshole. 

you relented to the cold, grabbing the hoodie that he left in between the two of you. you ignored the triumphant smile on his face when you draped the sweater over your bare legs, shielding them from the wind chills. 

he continued, “sometimes things happen to me that get me worked up and i have to write a song about it. sometimes, it’s based on my imagination. it depends.”

you wanted to ask him about his dad, but you didn’t know if he considered you guys friends yet. it’s not like you made it easy for him anyway. you could deal with the banters and annoyance, but you didn’t want to push him to talk about something he wasn’t ready to. you could be a dick, but you weren’t cruel. 

you changed the subject, “okay, let’s play a game.” 

“21 questions?” luke bit his bottom lip, trying not to laugh. he waggled his eyebrows, dodging your arm that reached out to smack him. 

“you’re gross,” you gagged, knowing the implications of the game, “no, i’m gonna ask about the songs on your album and you tell me if it’s real life or from your imagination.” 

“alright, go for it five star,” he beamed, propping his elbows on his crossed knees. he loved talking about music with anyone. he could go on and on for hours. 

“18.” 

“real,” luke snorted, remembering the first time travis pitched the idea for the song to the band, “but not my experience. it was trav. he met this girl at one of our gigs in new york, right after we got signed, and he was obsessed. she was a freshman at nyu and she kept telling him he was too young for her, even though she was just less than a year older. trav was hooked.” 

you could picture it. it was definitely something travis would do. “okay, another one of my favorites. only angel?” 

“not real,” luke shook his head, a slight blush creeping up on his face. “if you tell anyone, five star, i will vehemently deny it, but i had a crush on jade west from victorious and i wrote it about her.” 

there was something about jade west that made luke like a love-sick puppy. ignoring the fact that she was hot, her attitude was something that luke was attracted to. she had a tough exterior and acted like she didn’t care about people, but she had her moments where she was soft and kind to the people she cared about the most. luke liked that. the idea that someone could be sensitive but only to the people they deemed worthy. 

he’d spent so much of his life trying to be worthy, in whatever way the stage of his life defined it, and he craved it– a pat on the back, an approval, a confirmation that he was worthy of it. 

you threw your head back laughing, surprised by his ridiculous confession. the sound of your laughter rang across the woods, making luke smile. your voice echoed throughout the trees and he his senses were surrounded by you. it hit luke like a truck. 

he sucked in a breath, taking out his phone. he jolted from his seat for more than one reason. “shit, five star. we gotta go.” 

you took out your phone too, checking the time. your eyes widened as you got up from your seat. you threw his hoodie over to him, “fuck, we’re late.” 

the two of you raced out of the woods, arriving to the concert venue with flushed faces and rapid breaths. you could feel clarisse’s knowing eyes on you as you got ready for the concert. you tried your best to ignore it. you were going to deal with that later. 

–

“and for the final event, i know you guys are looking forward to this one,” your dad laughed into the mic. the sun was long gone and there were disco lights illuminating the stage. a smoke machine was on either corner, making it difficult to see the bottom half of the stage. you and clarisse stood in the front row, listening to the deafening cheers of the campers. “ladies and gents, welcome poisoned mercury!” 

the screams got louder which you didn’t even know was possible. travis entered the stage first, sticking his tongue out as he expertly twirled his drumsticks around his fingers. connor came in next, smiling and waving at the crowd as he plugged his guitar into the amp. chris walked in with his bass strapped around his neck, eyes immediately finding clarisse and sending her a shy smile. you nudged her teasingly, enjoying the way she blushed under the lights. 

then luke castellan walked in. he ditched his hoodie and t-shirt and walked in with a white tank top on, messing with the curls on his head. he tugged on the silver necklace around his neck as his eyes scanned the crowd. he threw a wink to the group of the older girls in the back, turning to travis to let out a laugh at their reaction. the lights on the boys were blinding and a thin layer of sweat already began to form on their skin despite the bite to the air. 

luke took center stage, picking up his guitar. he leaned over directly in front of you, fingers pretending to mess with the wires connecting his guitar to the speakers, “hey, five star.” 

he straightened his back before you could reply. clarisse’s eyes darted between you and the boy, now nudging you like you did to her earlier. you rolled your eyes, smiling at the rest of the boys as luke began talking on the mic. 

“what’s up, camp half blood?” luke screamed into the mic. the crowd roared. “we’re poisoned mercury and we are so happy to be with you guys here this summer. before we close out this awesome concert, i wanna introduce our lovely band.” 

“on drums, we have the one and only, travis stoll!” luke turned around to applaud travis as he did a little drum solo, head banging as he hit the drums. he turned to connor, “on lead guitar, we have the amazing connor stoll!” 

connor strummed his guitar, leaning over on the left side to soak in the applause of the crowd. the girls beside you swooned as he unleashed one of his award-winning smiles. 

luke faced chris, “and on bass, we have my very best friend in the entire world, my 4lifer, chris rodriguez!” clarisse cheered loudly for chris as he played a tune on his bass, mouthing, “love you, brother,” to luke as he played. the crowd quited for a second as luke addressed them again, “and my name is luke castellan. we’re poisoned mercury!” 

you turned around to look at the crowd. the size of the crowd tripled when the boys got on stage. everyone had a smile on their face, excited to hear them play. 

“the song we’ll be singing for you guys today is from our debut album,” luke adjusted his mic on the stand. he got closer to it, lips touching the metal, “this is only angel.” 

you couldn’t help but let out a laugh at their song choice. this was not the song they were supposed to sing. they’d been rehearsing kilby girl for the past week. luke saw your reaction, laughing along with you. 

the instrumentals began and you nearly missed the beat drop because of the cheers from the crowd. as the song progressed, the boys were one with the music. you watched luke sing, working the crowd like a pro. his skin glistened under the spotlight, beads of sweat tricking down the side of his face. he approached chris when the chorus started, dragging his mic stand with him. he swung his guitar around so it rested on his back as he sang the lyrics. his curls were sticking to his forehead, eyebrows raised in glee as he performed. 

you couldn’t take your eyes off the lead singer, not even when the rest of the band had their own solos in the song. your eyes were glued on luke; how his adam’s apple was on full display as he threw his head back, getting lost in the music, how his arms flexed as he wrapped the mic cord around his fist, how his thin tank top stuck to his body and how it raised when he lifted his arm up to bring the mic closer to his lips. you saw the outline of his abdomen and his v-line. 

but what really got you was his face. he looked at peace on stage, a wide smile on his face, full lips pink and glossy as he licked them in between verses. he looked incredible up there, like that was where he belonged. he was born to be on stage like this. 

“fuck,” you mumbled, applauding at the end of their song. luke’s eyes found yours as he sang the last bit of the song, smiling at you. you hoped clarisse couldn’t hear you talk to yourself. you looked down at your feet, tugging nervously on the collar of your shirt, “i get it now.”

[ryo-kaikura]

Male Yandere x Stoic Top Male Reader

Tw: there's gonna be: mention of murder, taking other people's skin and yandere.

This was inspired by an old anime (I forgot the name, but it had old art, and its MC is a wandering hired ninja for cheap)

It was the era of danger. People's ideal jobs are being an assassin or a hired killer or an adventurer. Either way, you would have to kill to live. Because Your world is a trial, a beta to God as he wants to create a perfect world, but he pitied the world that turned into a dangerous one, so God gave every being an ability. So everyone who reaches 15 years old manifests an ability, and usually it's random. It's not because of what you liked as a kid, nor is it what you like.

-------------------------------------------------------

You were different. You realized that when you remembered everything since you came out of your mother. You remembered everything everyone had said around you. 

People would usually grow and be weird and lonely people, but not you. You were able to be the “perfect man” everyone dreamed of. Remembering what your parents told you, what your friends told you, but you realized a side effect, you don't exactly feel emotion easily. You aren't able to feel happy as easily as your friends nor your parents, but you didn't care.

You at first thought that it was your ability, but no, it wasn't your ability. your ability, when it manifested, was always seen as terrible because you could hardly manipulate a single strand of string. So they cast you out, even when you seem perfect, your ability  made them feel disgusted with you.

But you still didn't care.

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After finding out your ability, your parents kicked you out, and you've been wandering ever since.

It's been three years since then, and you lived wandering and happy. Why might you ask? Because nobody knew you anymore, and without the constant admiration, you were able to perfect your ability until you could even reconnect severed veins (I took this from HXH). 

After wandering for a while, you see a man in a sea of corpses. He is average faced and barely breathes with a slit on his throat. Being ever so uncaring  you decided to leave but the man kept calling you, calling for your help. So you decide to help him. 

After a few days, the man was able to wake up, and again, you decided to leave. But the man tries to stop you, but his voice isn't  loud enough, so he tries to go to you, but his body is still limp after losing so much blood.

After you hear a thud behind you, you look back and see the man, on the ground, reaching for you and when he was able to get to touch you, he gripped you as tight as he could.

You, amused, decide to nurse him back to full health. After a while and he was able to talk again, he told you about himself. His name was Iro (idk, please don’t judge me). He told you about how he got betrayed. You also learned that his ability was sewing and how he had no way to sew his neck because his friends cut off his nerves on his fingertips, so he was unable to sew it.

-------------------------------------------------------

After a while, he didn't want to leave you. He would whine and cling to you when you leave. You would have to bring him everywhere you go, but because of this, you realize something. He did get betrayed, but he didn't tell you the reason. You also learned his ability to leave no scarring as you see him putting on the skin of a man he killed on him and sewing it on and leaving no trace. 

Usually, people would be scared of this as that means he could just be insane but you didn't care, and he loved you because of this.

His POV

After years of following his “savior”, you, he built up his following. Without you knowing, he was able to grow his power and was able to change his appearance and skin. Another thing you didn't know about him was that he was God before he was overthrown by his own perfect creations, and afterward, you found him. He was overthrown because his creations felt that Iro didn't give them enough affection. 

Before checking up on his discarded world, he saw you. You seemed more perfect than his own perfect creation. 

After the first month of seeing you, he tried to catch your eye but it never worked until his creations betrayed him. Oh how happy he was when you looked at him.

(Back to you)

You on the other hand didn't care about a leech, Iro, clinging to you and pouting every time he thought you liked other people before changing his face, this is until he was able to be the one you only liked.

-------------------------------------------------------

One night, two men dressed in white, each, though different from the others, had pretty bodies and beautiful faces. Both were walking together when suddenly they froze, shocked. 

WHY IS THE DEMONS HERE!!!???

The “demons” grab them and bring them to a dark basement. When they wake up, they see two ugly men sit on their opposite of them. The two beautiful men start to activate their ability, but it seems like they are unable. No sooner than 5 minutes of them trying a man that has a godly physique and a handsome face appears 

Iro decided to replace an old ugly skin for newer ones. Iro wanted to be perfect for you, and if he can't do that, then he would bind you to him, but for now. He's satisfied with being clingy…

Then again, he should get the best of the best. After all, he is still a GOD.

..........................................................................................

I know this is terrible, and it also didn't go as I wanted it to go 🥲

[cherbexr]

Sentinel Prime as...

your music manager??

^^(the readers laughing at how ridiculous this dumbass hc is)

Not really a Sentinel Prime x Reader romantic post

Warnings: Bad language, slight fat shaming, Sentinel Prime

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yeah wtf cherry? what kind of headcanon is this 🤨 Just something a little different!

I like to think that there are different forms of entertainment in Iacon. There's of course the Iacon 5000, but there are other forms like strip clubs and television shows like Iacon's Got Talent.

Sentinel Prime was invited to judge the show, and he took the opportunity to show Iacon how involved he is with the city and how great a leader he is!...

You decided to try for Iacon's Got Talent to show off your awesome vocals! Unknowingly THE Sentinel Prime would be there to judge.

You stepped out on the stage when on cue and a round of applause was heard as you did. You smile and wave and look over to the judges and gasp when you see a stupid smile from a royal blue and golden big ass bot.

You introduced yourself and your talent and after a few moments, you did your thing.

When you were done, whoops and applause were heard again and the judges were impressed.

One judge gave their opinion and the next until it was Sentinel's turn. He probably said some shit about how outstanding you were and yada yada.

"I would like to personally endorse this talented bot and help them prosper!"

Oh! That's great news!

.

.

.

Wait what??

Did he just say he wanted to endorse you?? No way the leader of Iacon wants to endorse you and make you become the singer you've always wanted to be! This is great news! Heck yeah you're accepting that offer!

-------------------------------------------------------

That was the worst decision you've ever made.

This guy literally made you change your paint job to match his. But it can't be the same because Sentinel Prime's color palette is his own palette and nobody can copy it.

Your paint job is probably like a pastel blue and yellow or something along the blue and yellow thing. You have to represent him in some way.

He endorsed you because he wants to show Iacon how a great leader like him can bring up great stars like you! You have to make him look good, perform well, sing well, and look good. Everything has to be perfect because if you make a flaw, you'll make him look bad and a failure of a manager.

He makes you perform at the Iacon 5000 to get his people pumping. Making you do the most over-the-top performances. You have to keep looking back at him for his approval. He is secretly sending you messages into your processor on what to do and if you need to be louder or something.

He doesn't let you have a social life and is very restrictive about what you're doing.

"That's one energon cube too many, you're going to be fat. I can't have a fat star, can I?"

The only time you'd be seen with random people is when you're being filmed doing charity or something good for the community.

Wow! Sentinel Prime endorsed such a kind bot! He has a great eye for good people!

Dating? Don't even think about it before asking him first. He would only let you "date" some popular bot. Maybe a top racer or another star. But you wouldn't be actually dating, it's just a way for Sentinel Prime to keep you relevant.

You have to be the top singer in all of Iacon. All other singers and stars, don't even think about trying to outdo you. If they somehow surpass you, oops! They accidentally ingested poison! I wonder how that happened... (That Beyonce theory reference lol)

Don't even think about getting sick and having to call off the show. You are doing that to show whether you're dying or not. He's gonna get the top doctor and patch you up right away. How unreliable you are for canceling a show thousands of bots wanted to see!

-------------------------------------------------------

You talk to Sentinel, telling him you don't wanna do this anymore and he stops in his tracks. He turns around and bends down to face you with a disappointed look.

"You don't want to do this anymore? After all this hard work and money I put into you, to make you become who you are now? Well...I guess it's such a shame...All those poor poor bots who look up to you and love you will be just so sad to see you leave your whole career and them behind..." He then stood up and guided you near the window that had a whole view of Iacon.

He then glances at you, "Such a shame, am I right?"

Take that as a no.

-------------------------------------------------------

One time you're practicing for a big performance. The stylist and stage decorators are doing their thing and you run through the show. Sentinel Prime walks in on it and watches it before interrupting.

"Woah Woah Woah Woah! What is this?? I did not ask for this. The decoration is ugly, and the paint job is sloppy, who the hell wrote this script?!"

A stage manager looked around and back at him, "You did sir." They said as they pointed and showed him the clipboard.

He snatched it out of their hand and threw it to the side, "How could I possibly write this? This isn't even my handwriting! You're fired."

(He wrote it. )

He then motioned for you to come over to him and he grabbed your face and showed you to the rest of the crew, "I can't have precious (y/n) looking all ugly and making a fool out of herself now can I?"

You glared at him, "I think it's fi-"

"shhh, I'm doing you a favor."

He rewrote everything, changed every single direction, and watched the whole rerun applauding.

"Now that's what I want!"

-------------------------------------------------------

Remember my headcanons

Feel free to request!

Not proofread

[belovedmuichiro]

I saw a post once that entertained the idea of Tsutako being in the background of Sanemi’s hometown in the anime, and it got me thinking about a sanegiyuu childhood meet cute.

…

- When Giyuu was 13, he took a trip with Tsutako to a neighboring city where her fiancé had come from

- Though Giyuu was a much friendlier person as a child, he was still quiet, reserved and nervous. As a result, being in a bigger city was overwhelming and he struggled to keep up with Tsutako as they walked

- Before they could reach her fiancé’s home, Giyuu was separated from her in a crowd

- Without any people skills to speak of or the confidence to ask for help, Giyuu let the crowd swallow him up until he found a small spot he could cower in

- He ended up hiding under the stairs of a shrine where nobody could see him. He cried so quietly, nobody could possibly hear him either, but a boy did miraculously find him

- The boy was strikingly beautiful with stark white hair and piercing eyes. His presence made Giyuu stop crying almost immediately, but only because he was mesmerized.

- When the boy spoke, he was blunt and sort of rude but Giyuu hung onto every word he said as if he was a kind spirit come to save him

- “You cry like my little siblings,” he observed. It was a simple, random sort of thing to say but it perplexed Giyuu so much that he didn’t cry any longer

- Giyuu learned that this particular shrine is where the boy would find one of his brothers hiding, so when he saw Giyuu curled up, he thought something might’ve happened to him

- Giyuu reluctantly explained he was separated from Tsutako while visiting. In truth, he wasn’t sure if he should trust a stranger but they were clearly of a similar age and that put him at ease compared to an adult

- The boy gave Giyuu a small canteen of water before they could continue because the crying had obviously overwhelmed him. He then asked for the fiancé’s name, which he scowled upon hearing, surprisingly knowing the person

- “Is that bad?” Giyuu nervously asked

- “He’s one of the sons of our landlord,” the boy explained, “He’s fine. His family’s a buncha dicks.”

- Profanities aside, Giyuu asked if he could lead him there, and the boy agreed

- “What did his family do?” Giyuu asked on the way

- “Their kid brother said some shit about my family bein’ too big and my brother got into a fight with him about it.”

- “How big is your family?”

- “Nine of us. I have six siblings.”

- Giyuu learned that his mother had just given birth, which prompted the rude comment from their landlord’s son. He also had a father who he didn’t want to talk about on account of him angering some violent people

- Though the boy didn’t seem terribly interested in prying into Giyuu’s life, he still asked, “What about you?”

- “I just have my sister. My parents died when I was young.”

- “Lucky you have a sister.”

- “Yes… I’m Giyuu, by the way.”

- For a moment, the boy looked hesitant to give anymore details about himself, but must’ve decided he doesn’t have much to lose.

- “Sanemi.”

- On the way to the landlord’s home, it began to rain so Sanemi pulled Giyuu aside near a food stall to wait it out.

- Giyuu, as luck would have it, did have a small amount of money on him and suggested they share a meal.

- Sanemi agreed, not letting on that he rarely has enough money to ever eat out. However, Giyuu became curious when Sanemi awkwardly held his food at his side and wouldn’t take a bite.

- He didnt want to admit it, but his plan was to pocket whatever Giyuu bought him to bring home to his family. He wasn’t going to tell Giyuu, but the boy’s earnest, honest face pulled it out of him

- In response, Giyuu bought him another and asked that he feed himself as well

- When Sanemi finally did eat, Giyuu smiled for the first time. It flustered Sanemi, who quickly learned he couldn’t handle a pretty face

- When the rain ended, people came flooding to the streets in overwhelming numbers that scared Giyuu again

- To reassure him, Sanemi grabbed his hand and returned his earlier smile, promising he’ll be okay as long as they stick together

- Giyuu took to Sanemi with awe. The crowd was still scary, but Giyuu grounded himself in the feeling of his companion’s hand and trusted his word.

- Eventually they did find themselves at the landlord’s house. Most of the family was out looking for Giyuu, but luckily Tsutako stayed and was there to greet him.

- This was also a relief to Sanemi, who wasn’t sure he would be able to resist driving his fist into the face of the boy who fought with Genya

- Sanemi intended to leave with no commotion, just an odd empty feeling at the notion of leaving his new acquaintance, but Giyuu stopped him

- “Thank you for helping me,” he said with much more confidence than the first time he spoke. “You’re very kind, Sanemi.”

- Sanemi, flustered, shrugged and promised it was no problem. “Couldn’t just leave ya there…”

- “Maybe we’ll see each other again.”

- When Giyuu said this, he held onto the hope that because Tsutako new husband had close ties to Sanemi’s, they would surely meet again one day

- It was hard to explain but Giyuu felt drawn to Sanemi, like he was a special person he was meant to meet

- Of course, he couldn’t predict the tragedy that would befall both of them

- Years later, long after Tsutako and the Shinazugawa family were murdered, Sanemi was welcomed into the Hashira and finally met Giyuu again

- Only this time, he was quiet and cold. He didn’t give any indication that he remembered Sanemi and didn’t have any of the kindness he was full of as a child. Sanemi decided that he must’ve turned into a conceited ass with no time for the little people, he probably didn’t even remember him.

- But it was impossible for Giyuu to forget who Sanemi was. Even under all the scars and curses, he was still the boy who saved him that day. But Giyuu knew they had fundamentally changed as people, and clearly Sanemi wanted nothing to do with him any longer

- Unfortunately for them, the draw remains there no matter how far apart they try to drift.

[cameronspecial]

Idea:

Rafe and Reader have sex at a party but they don’t know that Rafe’s ex is filming them.

The next day its leaked and everyone has seen the video.

They didn’t know until Sarah called Reader (angry) because nobody knew they were together.

Violation of Privacy

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: UNCONSENSUAL FILMING OF SEX (Not by Rafe) AND DISTRIBUTING IT

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.1K

A/N: I changed the plot a little. If this has happened to you, please know that this isn't your fault and that there are resources that can help you.

Masterlist

Rafe and Y/N exit his bedroom one after the other, looking around to make sure no one is around to see them together. He finishes buttoning up his shirt while she is running her fingers through her hair so it looks less of a mess. If anyone was watching, they would easily be able to see that the couple just had sex in the room. The secrecy of their activities in the bedroom isn’t because they are embarrassed about the act, but because their relationship itself is a secret. With one final sweep of the hallway, Y/N leans up to give Rafe a kiss on the lips before running off to her friends.

——

Y/N wakes up the next morning to the ringing of her phone. As soon as it stops, it starts up again to tell her that whoever is trying to reach her still wants to talk. Her hand darts out from under the warmth of her covers to grab her phone on the side table. She brings it to her ear, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “Hello,” she manages to croak out. Sarah lets out a sigh of relief, “Don’t open the mass text that you got this morning.” “What are you talking about? What mass texts?” Y/N questions. Despite her friend’s warning, she opens up her texts to see a group chat containing just about every Kook and Pogue near their age. Derogatory and disgustingly sexual texts from various males of the island are sprinkled in between texts defending an unknown she. Y/N keeps scrolling, ignoring the call of her name coming from her phone. The start of the conversation is finally in sight. She freezes at the thumbnail of the video; a familiar bedroom portrayed on her screen. She hesitates to press the play button, but there is a sick part of her that needs to confirm what she suspects. 

The room is still in the video for a few seconds before light is brought in through the opening of the door. As soon as her giggles reach her ears and Rafe kissing her neck comes into the frame, she throws the phone across the room. Who had recorded them?  Why would they want to invade their privacy by not only filming such an intimate activity but sharing it with people it did not belong to? The discomfort in her stomach grows tenfold and she has to run to the bathroom to stop herself from making a mess in her bedroom. 

She can hear the front door being opened and Rafe’s voice fills the air. “Beautiful, are you here?” She can’t call out to him, too busy emptying her stomach in the toilet. He finds her hunched over the toilet and rushes to her side. One hand forms a ponytail in her hair and the other rubs her back soothingly. “I’m guessing you saw the text,” he whispers, bringing his lips to her temple. She can merely let out a cry as she wipes the corner of her mouth and curls into his hold. She cries in silence for a moment, “I feel so violated. I don’t feel safe anymore. Rafe, who could’ve filmed us in your bedroom?” Rafe’s heart sighs a little, thanking the universe that she doesn’t suspect him because he has absolutely nothing to do about this. “I don’t know, Beautiful. But I’m going to find them and make them pay,” he promises to her. 

“I don’t care about revenge. I care about the fact that someone destroyed something that was supposed to be between us and made it into an object to be viewed by any asshole who wants to jerk off to it. I care about the fact that I don’t feel beautiful anymore because I’ve read all the horrid objectifying things people think about me.”

“Hey, look at me. Don’t ever doubt your beauty, Beautiful. Don’t let those pervs have that part of you that should feel like yours. You are beautiful in so many other ways than just your body. Why do you think it’s your nickname?”

She looks up to him with warmth in her heart, “What other ways am I beautiful?” “In your mind. In your heart. In your love for everyone around you. In everything you do. The people, who say those things about you, don’t know what true beauty is,” Rafe reassures the best that he can. He knows nothing can really placate what she is feeling. If she is feeling even half of what he is, the turmoil going on in his girlfriend’s mind would be categorized as the worst type of hurricane. What they are going through is worse for her because women are always crucified in these situations while men are praised. All Rafe wants to do is comfort his girlfriend, “What can I do to make you feel better?” “I want to go to the police about this. I know it won’t take the video back but at least the person who sent it will get their justice and hopefully, they won’t be able to do this to someone else,” she whispers. Rafe nods, “I’ll go get you some clothes.”

He stands up, giving her a kiss before going to her room to get a change of clothes. The whispers of her name calling from the phone catches his attention and he leans down to pick it up. “Sarah?” he questions. Sarah lets out a breath, “Rafe, where is she? Is she okay? I tried to tell her not to look. I didn’t even know you guys were dating. Nobody knew.” “That’s because it was a secret. It wouldn’t be a secret if everyone knew,” he states plainly into the phone. “And she’s doing as okay as anyone in this situation would be. She obviously feels horrible about it. Listen, I gotta go. We are going to go to the police station. Get down to the bottom of this.” With mumbled goodbyes, he hangs up the phone and gets Y/N’s clothes. 

——

At the station, the police take Rafe and Y/N’s statements and phones as evidence to track down the number who sent out the text. Rafe opens up the car door for her and rounds the car to the driver’s side once she is in. When he enters, tears are already streaming down her face. He pulls her over the center console into a hug to comfort her. “I know this is hard, but we are going to get through this together. I promise,” he vows to her, running his fingers through her hair. This whole mess feels like hell, but at least they have each other. 

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron

[replaytech]

I can patch you up | tech x reader

warnings: mentions of injury and bruises, mention of past medical trauma/medical anxiety

-

Doing target practice with a broken hand probably wasn’t the best idea you’ve ever had.

You didn’t want anyone worrying about you or making you sit out on a mission, so you kept to yourself about accidentally rolling a metal storage crate onto your hand.

After a few minutes though, you had enough of the pain. You snuck away and back onto the ship so you could find a med kit and rest your hand for a little while.

You start searching through the many storage compartments, but come up empty handed.

You let out a sigh and trudge your way up to the cockpit, but stop in your tracks when you see tech on his data pad.

You’re about to turn around and walk away but it’s too late, “I thought you were practicing”, he says without looking up from his data pad.

You subtly move your hand out of view, “Yeah, I just wanted a break is all.”

Tech looks up at you, “You’re worse at lying than wrecker, are you aware of that?”

You sigh, hating the fact that he’s so good at reading you, “I was just looking for a med kit.”

“For your injured hand, I suppose?”

You whip your head to face him, “How did you know about that?”

He sets his data pad down, “I seem to know a lot of things, especially when they concern you.”

You let the barest hint of a smile grace your lips, “Yeah?”

Tech looks you in the eyes, “My head is often filled with war strategies, probabilities and facts about the galaxy that surrounds us, but you’ve made your way in there too, somehow.”

You fight any redness that wants to rise to your face, “Good.”

His tone becomes a little playful, “You do enjoy the thought of me being distracted by you during missions, don’t you?”

You shrug, “It’s not something I’m against.”

Techs face changes a little bit, seeming to snap out of a trance that you often put him in, “Enough stalling. Come sit. I will patch you up.”

“I’m fine, it’s not a big deal-“

“I do not remember any part of my statement being a question. Sit.”

You sigh, “Yeah, okay”, you sit next to him as he takes out the med kit.

Tech takes out a small vial of bacta spray, holds out his hand and does a little “give me your hand” motion.

You slowly put your shaky and bruised hand in his and tense slightly, which tech notices, “Why are you nervous?”

He starts to spray your hand as you scoff, “I am not nervous.”

Tech puts the spray down and examines your hand gently, like he’s afraid the slightest touch will cause you pain.

He brings your hand closer to his face, “Like I said earlier, lying is not a strength of yours.”

You can’t help the small laugh that bubbles out of you. You swear you can see tech slightly smile afterward.

You sigh, “The medics on kamino weren’t the nicest. I freaked hunter out once because he tried to reset my shoulder and I nearly had a panic attack.”

You avert your gaze from techs and become nervous. What if he thinks you’re being ridiculous or dramatic? What if he thinks it was weird to say that out loud?

He begins to wrap your hand with medical tape, “Kamino was… unpleasant, to say the least. However, there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore, unless you let crosshair wrap up an injury. Last time I let him do that it was horribly uneven.”

You relax almost immediately. Tech had a way of calming your nerves like nobody else. His logic and honesty was so comforting and reassuring to you. You’d be a mess without it.

“There you go”, he says as he finishes, still holding onto your hand.

Your voice comes out soft, “Thanks, tech.”

He looks at you, his brown eyes bringing nothing but warm feelings to you. After a few seconds he clears his throat and lets go of your hand.

Tech looks away, trying to busy himself with his data pad again, “Well, if you need anymore patching up, you know where to find me.”

“Everything okay?”

He glances at you for a second but goes back to his data pad, “Yes. I am fine.”

You bite your lip to hide your smile, “You’re just as bad at lying as wrecker”, you repeat his words back to him.

You see him blink at the ground, “What’re you thinking about?”

“How do you know that that is what I was doing?”

“I notice things about you too, tech.”

Before he can say anything, you speak up again, “That’s your thinking face. The one where you’re blinking or looking at the ground. And when you think something is funny, you put your hands on your hips.”

He seems to think for a few more seconds before he sighs, “Like I said before, you are very distracting. To be quite frank, your beauty is like none i’ve ever seen before.”

Before you can say anything back, wrecker appears from around a corner, “Am I really that bad of a liar?”

You and tech share a look before turning back to wrecker, “Yes, wrecker”, y’all say in unison.

[bishopsbeloved]

bad idea!

kate bishop x fem reader

No matter how much of a bad idea it may seem to go back to Kate Bishop, you can’t help it. You’re like a moth to a flame

inspired by a girl in red song, mentions of sex but no actual smut, fwb/ex gf kate, dumb lesbians, kind of just a drabble icl, 1.1k words

NOTE: my requests are open!!!!! send me anything you’d like!!!!!! i can’t guarantee i’ll get it done but you’re welcome to send things in🫶

It was such a bad idea to get involved with Kate Bishop again.

It’s so stupid that this even happened. Every fucking time things end between you you’re resolute in your position, you’re determined that this will truly be the end, but Kate Bishop has this way of drawing people back in. You’ve fallen victim to her strange unspeakable allure more times than you can count. That’s how you ended up here in the first place.

Yes, okay, fine, she’s good at sex. When she sends a you up? text you can’t help the way your heart beats a little faster at the thought of the chase resuming between the two of you, of cat and mouse returning to flirtatious antics with one inevitable end. No matter how many times you try to escape it, you and Kate Bishop always seem to find your way back to one another, only to sourly part again and leave you even more lost than you were before. You don’t know what to do. You can’t fucking stand her. You can’t get away from her. You’re not sure you want to.

Nobody else has ever touched you in the way she does, or as well as she can. No matter how much you pretend otherwise she is the one you crave; she’s the one on your mind whilst the hands of others roam your body. You have this deep, innate, carnal need for her — for everything about her — not just her fingers and her tongue and her strap but also her whiny raspy voice first thing in the morning (she, annoyingly adorably, hates mornings) and the sloppy neck kisses she delivers to say goodnight and the kind of sheepish shifty look whenever she brings you a token of her love. The latter doesn’t happen much anymore, not since the two of you broke up — since she dumped you — which on paper ought to mean the two of you no longer see each other. And yet more nights than not one of you has crawled back to and somehow ended up in the other’s bed. It seems you’re both full of bad ideas, and yet neither of you can get enough.

When you wake up in her room again, the purple wallpaper adorned with medals and trophies and Hawkeye posters all too familiar by this point, that feeling of heaviness settles in your stomach. For fuck’s sake. You’re always disappointed in yourself, the morning after. There’s a reason the two of you aren’t together anymore — so why do you keep waking up in each other’s beds?

You look down at where Kate Bishop is nestled against your chest, still bare-skinned against you after last night’s activities. It’s irritating how beautiful she is even when she’s asleep. She looks so lovely in your arms you can almost imagine that being your reality again, until you harshly remind yourself Kate doesn’t want that. She doesn’t want you like that, she broke up with you and the only reason she sees you anymore is for sex. The thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, it makes your stomach turn, and suddenly you want nothing more than to be away from her.

Crawling out of Kate’s bed when she’s wrapped herself around you like this is never easy. Perhaps in unconsciousness, in her most vulnerable state, she’s more reluctant to let you go. Sometimes you feel a little guilty leaving before she wakes so often, but you have to, for your own good — for the good of both of you. When you’re not fucking you don’t really know what to say to her. Hey, you were the love of my life, why’d you dump my ass? No thanks. She has these big blue puppy-dog eyes that just make you feel horrible about the whole thing, and everything you’ve ever done, ever. No, you’re better off leaving now.

“You’re leaving,” says a small, scratchy voice from behind you, as you stumble about in the half-dark of the room locating your clothing. It’s a statement, not a question, but she still doesn’t sound entirely certain.

You don’t really know how to respond, you’re kind of wishing this wasn’t happening and rushing to find your other sock so you can get out of here, so you just let out a kind of low grunt of acknowledgement.

“You always leave,” Kate responds, and you don’t have to turn around to know that she’s pouting a little. You can hear it in her voice. The fact you can tell, that you know her well enough to tell only pisses you off even further, and you let out a kind of bitter laugh.

“It’s not like you fucking want me here.”

“That’s not true.” She pauses, and you hear the little noises she makes as she sits up and stretches. “I do want you here. I keep bringing you back, don’t I?”

“Yeah, cause a good fuck is all I’m worth to you,” you say angrily, before closing your eyes and tilting your head back. No. You can’t let her ass ruin your day when you have so much shit to do.

“No, that’s not true,” she tries, whilst at the same time you groan “I can’t do this, Kate.”

She sits up a little straighter, eyes wide, voice an octave higher. “W— what? Can’t do what?”

“I can’t do you.”

“But I— you keep— you keep coming back, though.”

This hits a nerve, and you laugh incredulously, finally turning around to face her. She’s looking up at you in the semi-darkness of the room, her face unreadable. “Yeah, and I shouldn’t. It’s fucking pathetic. I can’t get over my ex so I’ll sleep with her whenever she asks. It’s not— it’s— Kate, I can’t keep doing this.” You bury your head in your hands.

Vaguely, you hear the gentle rustle of fabric in Kate’s side of the room. You just need a moment to collect yourself and you’ll get the fuck out of here.

You hear her footsteps padding towards you, and you open your eyes again. She’s haphazardly tugged on a shirt and is stood before you, bare-legged, almost doleful in expression. “I’m sorry,” she says, barely a whisper. “This is all— I keep fucking up. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know what you want from me,” you say tiredly.

“I— I don’t know. Everything. You.” She steps towards you uncertainly.

“Kate,” you say, and you’re not sure who moved first, but within moments her lips are on yours again. When she tugs you back towards the bed, you let her, your stomach churning with the indescribable sensation of simultaneous adoration and angst that her touch fills you with. She’s so pretty it actually physically hurts.

God, you’re totally fucked.

[maxwell-grant]

HEROFY: Annhilus.

A weird thing about where Annihilus stands nowadays is that, his original defining motivation was a complete and total fear of death, right? He was completely obsessed with preserving his own life to the extent of angling to murder everything else in the universe just so that nothing could ever possibly threaten his life ever again. But then after his major stint as a big bad in Annihilation and I think starting in Hickman Fantastic Four, he is instead defined as someone who is wholly incapable of dying (not just him, but everyone from the Negative Zone apparently) and who even actively wants it, still obsessed with death and slaughter but in an almost directly opposite way from his previous reason for it. Honestly, I love both approaches, I love Annihilus in general he's a very easy cosmic monster to love if nothing else because of the design, it's just it doesn't seem like they've ever conciliated these wildly different motivations. That's where I'd start, I think. Conciliating these two together.

Annihilus as a mutant spore who emerges near-fully formed as the first intelligent being born in the Negative Zone, completely incapable of getting answers to his existence and dealing with the creatures around him that keep trying to attack and hurt him, until this little nerdy cockroach stumbles on an alien spaceship and is brain-blasted with all the knowledge of his creators turning him into a near-immortal powerful new being who goes on to create new lifeforms, essentially ruling the primordial Negative Zone by default. Not out of any desire for conquest, but because it's the safest place to be, he figures. He doesn't yet know what it's like to want things, he is just fiercely obsessed with protecting himself from injury and death as a remaining defining primal instinct and so he creates the Cosmic Control Rod as essentially just a tool to protect him via combat, and then the Fantastic Four steal the rod from him.

They give it back after they're done with it, but in subsequent excursions to Earth, he learns what they were using it for. Over early attempts to attack this planet and the people that invaded his home the first time, so they may never invade again and never endanger him again, he learns what it feels like to die and come back. It feels nice. It feels good. It feeelssss sssssweet, ssssweeet death that brings resssurection. His greatest fear comes true and it's the first time he discovers joy. He learns that, not only is he immortal, but he has ways to prolong or save the lives of others. Death isn't scary at all, in fact it only made him stronger. He doesn't even need the rod anymore, it's basically just an Excalibur at this point to determine who rules the Zone. Hero Annihilus is driven thus by a desire to simply let everyone else in the universe join in on how awesome it is to live in the Negative Zone with him in charge, because on your boring mudball, you die, but in the Negative Zone, you can live.

It might take a few tries to convince him that the rest of the universe very much cannot come back from dying and very much does not share his enthusiasm about death and resurrection, but that in turn further drives him to share it. He will step up to prevent multiverse destroying catastrophes and refrain from murdering people not in his jurisdiction, but really, if everyone was in the Negative Zone, being slaughtered would just be a fun time that improves your life when you get it back. Skill issue on everyone else's part. The Negative Zone is great, guys, nobody has to die in it! His worms can bring you back everytime, if you don't just outright morph into something that molts and revives itself, like he did! We got trillions of bugs and technology and gladiator sports and tons of squirrels ever since Squirrel Girl's clone moved in, and if it's good enough for her it's definitely good enough for you.

There's at least 14 trillion and counting Negative Zoners already of the opinion that Annihilus is great and awesome and should rule everything forever, so democratically speaking, he's already a hero to more beings than the vast majority of Earth superheroes.

[chaifootsteps]

OMG the scene where Charlie baby talked to Baxter irked me SO bad! Like what are you doing?!? Youre a grown ass adult talking to another grown ass adult, you dont talk to people you just met like that EVER!

Like what was the point of the scene?? To be funny? Cause it isnt, there is no joke, punchline, nothing, its just Charlie being rude to a random stranger that she just met.

Was it to make Charlie look like an "adorkable kawaii potato that LOVES cute little things :3"? Then someone tell Vivziepop that it isnt 2014 anymore and nobody likes these characters, epecially when theyre ADULTS, theyre just really fucking annoying.

This is why i hate the Show's Charlie, they try to sell her as if she is oh-so-nice and the most kind person in the world that CARES about others issue's when she is actually a priviliged bitch that thinks she has the solution to every problem in the world when she doesnt understand shit about other's people's situation nor cares enough to listen to them.

She reminds me to these internet e-celebrities that build their whole image on being wholesome and sweet but then when theyre asked to talk about some societal problem they decilne because "sowy i dont want to bring politics to my channel :3 xoxo".

It would have been interesting if she was written this way on PURPORSE. Like at first her being a naive, rich, priviliged princess that never faced any real problems and thats why she is sure that she can easily solve other's problems by doing what she says, and as the show progresses she starts learning to LISTEN to other's explaining their situation and why the solutions arent as simple as what she was made to belive growing up privileged.

But since Vivziepop lacks any self awareness the show tries to convice us that her ways are the correct ones, and that everyone should do as she says in order to fix everything and that her acting like an ignorant asshole to thers its ok because its "cute :3".

Maybe im just exagerating because im a short person with a baby face who got treated a similar way Charlie talked to Baxter by other adults, and i dont think i need to clarify you should definetely NOT do that to other people like that, like how do people not realize its rude as shit.

Its embarassing how upset i got at this, i hope this show gets cancelled as soon as posible.

Yeah, that was pretty vile. It was that unbearable scene where she forced them to play rhyme-and-clap games all over again, and that other unbearable scene where her idea of redeeming them was putting them in stupid outfits and having them read from scripts.

I hate series Charlie so much.

[darylbae]

hi new tumblr writer :3

I would give anything for vampire daryl (perhaps gender neutral pronouns)

smut, angst, fluff, idc. just give me vampire daryl (please)

pretty little thing — daryl dixon 🩰

in which vamp!daryl finds you in the woods, but doesn't have it in him to feed on you

note: im new to vamp!daryl so this will be very short, however if you like it i can make more!!

Daryl has had urges. Urges to feed, urges that are biologically something he can't help. He's always had these urges, since before the world fell apart, however it was easier to maintain back then. Now, with resources being limited, it was harder. It was even harder to keep this from the people around him. Nothing tasted like human blood. No deer, squirrel, or rabbit would ever taste as good as a human.

Daryl would wake up early to feed, and go to bed later than the rest of the group. He'd managed to hide it well, nobody had questioned him yet. Even when the people they'd butt heads with would disappear and no longer be an issue. Blood on him, on anyone, wasn't out of the ordinary anymore. It was another early morning, Daryl had his crossbow slung on his arm. He walked with purpose, not having fed on any human in a while was making him ravenous. His boots crunched on the leaves as he left the rest of the group, finally getting into the woods to look for something filling. With his heightened hearing, he couldn't hear much. Couldn't smell anything close by. So it would be a long journey ahead of him.

He'd trekked through almost half the woods now, after picking up a sound a while ago, he believed to be getting closer to it. He growled to himself, just wanting the metallic taste sat on his tongue again. It had been so long. There it was again. That sound. That faint whimper in the distance. He'd picked up speed, trying to be light on his feet, but it was no use. He needed it. Now. There you were, clutching a tree with tears rolling down your face. You were a treat. He'd approached you, and of course you were apprehensive, like all smart girls were. But you were so desperate, that you'd reached out for him. "Please..." You yelped, putting all of your weight onto him, "my leg, it hurts." Daryl held your waist, looking down at the blood sliding down your leg. Like a warm chocolate drizzle on a cake, you looked good enough to feast on. Daryl noticed you had only shorts on, not entirely practical for the world you live in, and a jacket with a utility vest wrapped around you. Boots too, great choice. He could smell you, so sickly sweet. "Aren't you a pretty, little thing?" You looked up at him, brows tilted upwards and pure innocence in your eyes. "What happened?" He asked, pushing you backwards gently to lean on the tree behind you. He'd brushed some hair away from your face, before slowly bending down to be level with your wound. A gash on your thigh, not deep enough to be fatal, but needed to be wrapped up. The smell of you, of your blood, was getting to him. He needed it, more than he needed air in his lungs. But he couldn't. Usually his impulses were impossible to control, he'd be onto a human before he could even blink, but you... He wanted to enjoy you, he didn't have the heart to hear you cry again, because of him. He'd dragged his thumb up a line of blood that had trailed down your leg, bringing it to his mouth to enjoy. You were so out of it from blood loss that you hadn't even picked up on it. And if you did, you were past caring. You were still crying, as he'd stood back up, his height very much towering over you. "I need t'wrap it up," he stated, his eyes trained on the curve of your neck. The perfect space to have a little taste. "Ya gonna to have t'come back with me." You just nodded. You were probably going to bleed out, so either way you'd die. So you were betting on this man being good. "Want me to carry ya?" He asked, and you nodded, unable to put any pressure on your leg. Smirk plastered to his face, he inched closer to you. He was breathing you in, slowly feeling himself becoming addicted to your scent. He wanted to have you around, to enjoy you more. He'd have to feed another way.

[artist-issues]

I’m going to say it.

I don’t think How to Train Your Dragon 3 was good.

Not when you compare it to literally either of the other movies. Certainly not as a conclusion.

I mean, the first movie was about a boy who manages to understand a hostile dragon species and bring peace to two warring factions, which is a parallel for his relationship with his father. The second film was about how sometimes, peace has to be fought for, and Hiccup’s whole identity was in contrast with that—because while his mother ran from conflict and his father leapt at it too eagerly, he had always been the one to stop the fighting. Then he has to learn that the things we love are worth protecting. 

And after he learns that humans and dragons can learn to understand each other and coexist—after he learns that it isn’t enough to run and hide or fight out of fear, but instead you must protect the things you care about—

After those two natural, powerful progressions are clearly worked for in the first two movies—

How to Train Your Dragon 3 comes along and says “‘No actually, sometimes all it takes is one madman whom you defeated with no loss of life to convince you that the things you care about should just crawl into a very pretty hiding hole, because you don’t feel like spending the rest of your life fighting for them.”

And I can say more. Below the break. 

Because I’ve waited a long time to talk about this. Everybody around me was saying that the third HTTYD movie was sooo good, how could I not love it, what was my problem, they’re crying in the theater seats around me, they’re all moved, but nobody can tell me why. What makes HTTYD3 so good, STORY WISE? What makes the fact that Toothless, who is established as “Hiccup’s Other Half” and his character’s support, leaving, a good conclusion?

And it’s not just that my feelings were hurt at the idea of this iconic duo being split up in the finale. 

It just doesn’t make any sense. Because the main thing that the whole series was built around was the adversity Hiccup and Toothless were always going to come up against, because they shouldn’t be friends. The whole first movie is like “dragons and Vikings hate and kill each other, there’s no way to get over this fear, nobody can be around Night Furies without dying,” and Hiccup and Toothless literally fly in the face of that. Then the whole second movie is “dragons either have to be left completely alone to themselves and their ways in the wild apart from man, or they have to be brutally enslaved as war machines under man’s boot” and then Hiccup and Toothless fly in the face of that. They stick together as their own, unique partnership, and it changes the world in HTTYD and in HTTYD2.

And then in the third movie, boom, Toothless suddenly doesn’t belong with Hiccup anymore? Suddenly it’s essential that he live completely separate, alone with “his own kind?” Suddenly it’s too hard and too dangerous to protect this dragon-Viking way of life that the whole first and second movie worked for?

I mean. They even abandon Berk. They fought so hard for Berk throughout three television series and two excellent movies. 

And I get it. The idea is that, they left Berk because Berk is a people, so no matter where they go Berk is still alive, just like no matter where Toothless goes, his friendship with Hiccup is “still alive.” And that’s a fine theme, I guess, except it totally makes the first two movies seem worthless. It makes Hiccup’s mom seem right for abandoning her family and giving up on the idea that humans and dragons could ever live peacefully. According to HTTYD3, Hiccup and Toothless never should have interacted again after he cut Toothless free of the net. Because Toothless should’ve just…gone on to live with his own kind.

Oh except he couldn’t, because Hiccup knocked his tail fin off and Toothless needed Hiccup. Just like Hiccup was weird and innovative in a time of traditional brutish Vikings, and he, in his own way needed Toothless. So they couldn’t live among their own kind without one another. 

And I see that HTTYD3 is trying to say “‘yes, they needed each other, but now they’ve grown up and the only thing left to learn is how to let go and move on.” But you know what, if you were going to tell me that, you shouldn’t have made the driving motivation for these characters to leave one another: “too many bad guys keep inevitably attacking us.”

You also shouldn’t have made the secondary driving motivation: “Toothless likes a pretty girl dragon and he can’t be with her and be with Hiccup because she’s Too Wild.™” Because guess what? The other thing that all of the previous canon content set up was that Hiccup can basically tame and befriend any wild dragon.

There are very few dragons, even in the TV show, that he cannot make friends with and live side-by-side with, and the ones that existed were basically just big, angry killing machines who presented themselves as way more threatening in mannerisms than the Light Fury does in the third movie. The Red Death eats other dragons; the Light Fury warns other dragons of traps. The Skrill tries to lightning-fry every human around it; the Light Fury only ever plasma blasts at humans that surprise her while she’s actively snooping around their camp.

I am willing to buy a story where a dragon needs to be free of his human master if he wants to have a future with his own kind, but you can’t do that if the dragon in the story is Toothless and the master in the story is Hiccup. Because those characters’ relationship was established as the future of their kind. Viking’s way forward was dragons—dragons’ way forward was Vikings. 

And that brings up another bone of contention with me—the first reason for the finale split-up—what made Grimmel so terrifying that it convinced Hiccup to uproot his whole tribe from their ancestral home and eventually give up on fighting for his dragon/Viking way of life, and Toothless himself? Was it that Grimmel was a better strategist than Hiccup? Because Grimmel lost and died, so there’s no reason for that to remain the reason. Was it because Viggo had a whole army of people that were slapped together to hastily represent “the rest of the world” and a bunch of dragons—again, DRAGONS, Hiccup’s specialty—to attack them with? Because again, all of them lost. And Berk sacrificed nothing in the process, unless you count, like…stress.

And DON’T give me any crap about the epilogue. Don’t tell me “‘Oh, OP, you totally ignored the part at the end where Toothless and Hiccup’s new families visit each other, they’re not gone forever, they’re just Friends From Afar, living at peace, protecting the peace by staying apart.”

That is 1) a terrible cowardly step back from any emotional impact that the big goodbye and sense of sacrifice that living apart from each other should have given the audience, and 2) still doesn’t negate the fact that Hiccup and Toothless WERE fighting for their way of life, which was living together, since movie 1, and the fact is whether they visit each other or not they still don’t get to have that anymore. For no good reason. I could say more. I could talk about how silly I think a lot of the Light Fury plot is, how poorly set-up the Hidden World was as a conclusion piece, blah blah blah. But instead, I’ll just leave this quote from the end of How to Train Your Dragon 2, and you tell me how the logical conclusion to this quote was “let’s abandon our home and stuff our dragons in a hiding-hole because the enemies and armies that have never once actually defeated us are just too much hassle to keep fighting with.”

“This is Berk. A bit trampled and busted and covered in ice, but it's home. It's our home. Those who attacked us, are relentless, and crazy. But those who stopped them, oh, even more so! We may be small in numbers, but we stand for something bigger than anything the world can pin against us. We are the voice of peace, and bit by bit, we will change this world. You see, we have something they don't. Oh, sure, they have armies, and they have armadas. But we... we have... OUR DRAGONS!"

[tarotofzhivamoon]

Masterlist • P@tr30n • Personal readings

Pause and take a big breath in, then choose the pile you feel the most drawn to🦋

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Pile 1

It took us a while to fall in love, to let each other open up to this possibility that maybe we are meant to be together because old habits kept coming back, they kept influencing our ability to open our hearts and they hindered this beautiful fresh start of a new beginning for us, as we came into this with suspicious and cautious eyes. I must say I lacked experience in relationships, it took me a while to understand how I am supposed to show up for you, how to actually be able to make you part of my routine, but it’s all so clear now that I can push past the limitations of my past. My heart is open to you, it is open to love and inside of me there’s a constellation of feelings that I feel for you because you just bring out the best in me, a part of me that I never really knew existed. I have tried to hide behind the shadows of my defense mechanisms, of every behavior, thought and action that I took with the idea that I needed to take care of myself and preserve who I was in case someone else wanted to conquer me, take everything and leave me with nothing but with you all of my defenses dropped. I can’t think clearly when you’re around, I can’t even describe the things I am feeling when your soft skin touches mine but I know that I am surrendering to you; you can have all of me, you can take over everything I am because I completely trust in you that you do not want to change me, I trust that you love me just for who I am and that whatever you’ll take, whatever I will give you, you will also give back to me so that both of us can grow beautiful gardens within us that are watered by our gentle, pure love. I want everything with you, I want to see the end of my days next to you, I want to start my mornings and end my nights with you here, with a kiss, a touch, a smile and other tokens that symbolize the absolute love we have for each other.

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Pile 2

I have walked alone for years and years, always leaving parts of me everywhere I went, something that people could remember me by or it maybe was because I had lost so much of myself in that relationship of place that I didn’t know what was mine to take. I have always been one to want this world to become a more loving place for everyone, I understood and observed others, saw their pain and I took it on me to the be the person that is always there for them because I thought they needed me, even though I was also hurting on the inside and no one actually really saw me. I didn’t want to fall in love ever again, I wanted to be on my own because I felt that I had a bubble of protection around me that no one would be able to break if I didn’t let them get too close to me, I just didn’t want to surrender to such a powerful, yet possibly extremely hurtful experience if it wasn’t meant to work out; I didn’t want to take that change at being heartbroken anymore because I felt like if it happened it would have turned me into this cold hearted monster that had no empathy, no understanding and no love to give, only madness at a world that seemed to be against me and never showed me the love that I needed and wanted in return. I have been in my own world, my own safe space, like a little scared rabbit I would hop in and out of relationships and places the moment I started to feel vulnerable and threatened, nobody was really able to catch me and to show me the love, show me the way back towards a part of me that I actually lost in the process of trying to protect my heart. You were able to make me want to stay next to you because you have been so gentle with my heart, you have actually a better understanding than me about the things that I was going through because you’ve been through similar experiences but you still turned out differently, those experiences actually transformed you into being even kinder, even more loving and your energy has showed me the way back to myself.

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Pile 3

I threw logic out of the window with you, I didn’t need it and I don’t think I will ever need it because I knew that I needed to let my heart guide me to you and guide me with my relationship with you. I manifested you, I spent entire days thinking about you and wanting you to find your way into my life so that I could experience this type of psychedelic love with you, one that lifts me up to the sky on soft clouds and makes me feel lighter than ever, like I have no other worry in the world. Your love is spiritual, I do think and feel as though you have a spiritual purpose in my life, this romance isn’t simply practical, it isn’t a simple “this is what I need to do, this person is good for me”, it’s more than that, it’s deeper and besides that feeling that you are the one for me, there is something that doesn’t really make sense. And it’s beautiful that it doesn’t make sense, because we are nothing alike, we see the world differently, but we want the same thing which is love and growth. My prayer has been answered when you came into my life, romance found its way into my life in the most elevating way and I knew right from the start that I was going to marry you because it was the only path our connection had as an option. I’m here to work hard for you, I’m here to work hard for our relationship because I know that the effort I put in matters and I know that it makes a difference towards actually achieving the beautiful things that we both want out of this connection. I know that both of us are going to be successful because everything we need is right in our hands. I know that sometimes these feelings can get overwhelming and sometimes too much, even if it is love, can do great harm if it transforms into smothering and being too present, I am guilty of that, I’m guilty of wanting to spend all of my time with you, guilty of doing everything with you but I also know that we should maintain this sense of independence for us to be able to do things outside of the relationship too because it’s healthy.

If you enjoyed this reading, the full, in depth reading is available to read on P@tr30n which you can find in my masterlist pinned post. Thank you so much for your support💗

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