#this just in: big stupid demon man is a giant BABY | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shurisneakers · 4 years ago

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harmless (viii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, protesting, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, gamer (derogatory), smidge of angst

Word count: 3.5k

A/N: listen idk what goes on at construction site and im too sexy to research so we’re going with my version of the world. hello. how are we all doing?

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

He doesn’t expect to see you on TV.

In jail maybe, for something scandalous and completely unnecessary, but not TV.

But there you are, a sign board waving around furiously in your hand, voice in protest against the demolition of the community centre. You’re flipping the board back and forth to alternate between the messages you’ve scrawled on the cardboard.

You were among a few protesting, but clearly the loudest.

He thinks that maybe he has the weekend off if you’re too busy fighting big corporations. He’d send his support even.

Until he zeroes in on the sign when it flips over, finally reading what it says.

You better get your ass here, sarge

And so he does.

Half the crowd had dipped by the time he arrived. You were there, still the loudest, but he couldn’t help but notice the lack of people as compared to an hour or two ago on TV. He supposed that justice could wait as long as it took to get lunch from the nearest café.

“I can’t stop you from protesting, y’know.” He’s a little wary of approaching your raging self.

“Oh, hey Barnes. You got my message.” You break away for a second to scream a bunch of obscenities at the gigantic glass building before turning to him. “You wouldn’t be able to.”

“What’s your dumb plan then?”

“First of all, it’s not dumb. It’s stupid. Put some respect on my technological genius.” You held up a finger. “Second of all, it’s not here.”

“Where is it?”

“At the construction site.” You point down the road. “Come on.”

Right along the way you stop to chant another slogan. He waves his arm around meekly in support. He did, after all, have to stand up for what was right, but if his publicist saw him here she’d have an aneurysm.

The construction site isn’t very far off. It’s adjacent to the community centre, which he assumes they’re going to tear down to make more space for whatever shitty commercial building was going to take its place.

There are already a few excavators and dozers there but no one to man them since it was lunch time. What garners his attention is the small silver plate that’s on the floor a few feet ahead in the direction you’re walking towards.

“Here.” You stop once it nears. “The plan.”

“Am I supposed to know what this is?” He lightly kicked at it, earning a smack on the arm from you.

“Stop that,” you scolded, “and look at it. It’s not hard to figure out.”

He narrows his eyes. There’s a small u-shaped piece of metal in the middle of the plate. “That’s a magnet.”

“Exactly.” You clapped your hands together in excitement. “The world’s strongest electromagnet.”

He looks around. The only possibly magnetic things are the cranes and excavators around him.

“You’re going to... stop the machines from moving ahead?” he hesitates in his deduction.

“Yep. Can’t tear anything down if they can’t get to it first.”

Bucky looks down.

“Does this thing even work?” He toes at it again. “It’s kinda small.”

“It works beautifully, stop kicking at it, you demon-”

“What happens if I step on it, huh?” He knows this would get on your nerves wonderfully. He raises his leg. “Do I get to go home for the day?”

“You’re such a little shit,” you whine, reaching for your back pocket. “Stop bullying my invention.”

“’m gonna squish it like a bug.” He’s only half kidding about that part. “I’m gonna-”

Before he can finish his sentence something yanks him down hard. His head nearly hits the ground before his right arm shoots out to break his fall.

"Woah there, don't go falling for me as yet.”

“What the fu-” he begins, eyes locking on his metal arm that was pressed flat against the earth.

“I told you it works,” you say smugly. “Try crushing it now, Barnes. If you can even get off the floor.”

He tugs his hand but it’s firmly attached to the thing. No matter how or where he’s applying the effort, his limb refuses to move. He’s stuck.

“Turn it off,” he sighs. “You made your point.”

“No. Stay there.”

“Y/N, shut up and turn this off,” he groans, trying to find a better position rather than chin down on the ground.

“Lay there and rot. You deserve it for underestimating me.” You huff.

“I wasn’t underestimating you, Jesus Christ.” He really was planning to just step on it, but he had complete faith that it worked.

When he doesn’t receive a reply, his gaze follows yours. Suddenly the crane looks a lot closer than it initially did. Awesome.

“Those are moving towards me.” He picks up on the low groan and creak of metal.

“Yeah, they are.” You nod, one hand on your hip, watching them.

He didn’t think that getting crushed under construction equipment would be how his day went.

“Not my problem,” you decide finally after a bout of silence.

Now that simply wouldn’t do.

Death was definitely a problem, but what was more important was that he was going to get a dust allergy from the mud. He could already feel the blocked nose and temperature incoming.

“Are you really going to waste this on me? Don’t you have a demolition to stop?” He manages to twist his body so that he’s lying on his back.

“Good point,” you squint into the distance at the whirring of the heavy machinery. Their owners wouldn’t be happy to find them missing from their original spot. “But I still can’t help you out.”

“You’re willing to sacrifice your-”

“I can’t help you out because I don’t have an off switch. Yet,” you add the last part in a hurry.

“Then when the fuck were you planning to build one?” He sits up, leaning on his elbow. The cranes weren’t a mini object on the horizon now; the closer they got, the faster they were starting to move towards him.

“I don’t know, after they agreed not to take down the building?”

He could just detach his arm and come back for it later he but had no guarantee that you would stop here for the day or that the vibranium could withstand all that pressure.

“You better make a switch right now and get me out of this, I don’t care how.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumbled, bending to assess how badly he was stuck. “You know, this thing runs really deep into the earth. It’d take forever to dig back up and then get you back to my lab and then build a switch.”

“How long?” He didn’t have a lot of time, clearly, but even generally he didn’t have the whole day to waste. He had a mission the next day. He had to put the fear of death into some Russians and bring some pirozhki back for Nat.

“I don’t know,” you furrowed your eyebrows. “Too long for my schedule anyway, I have class prep to do.”

“Motherfucke- that thing’s like twenty feet away.” He’s worried about how you don’t look fazed at all when he points at the stupid machine.

He’s about to volunteer to detach his arm when he realises it’s definitely less than twenty feet now. He had a backup just in case. It didn’t move as smoothly, but who could tell the difference when a couple of tons of pressure was aiming for your face, and hell, if he explained his circumstances of the destruction of his arm to T’Challa-

“Okay, fine.” You reach into your backpack to grab something that looked like a wrist watch. It matched the one already around your hand.

You reach over and clasp it around his hand before turning a dial on the side.

“You ready?” you ask, ignoring the large crane that was starting to charge towards you.

“For what?” he replies, looking down at it. He can barely hear you over the sound of the whining of machinery.

“Teleportation, baby.” You send him a big grin before slamming down on his watch.

“Huh-” His voice cuts off immediately.

If there’s anything that can be said about teleportation, it’s that he feels like every atom in his entire body violently splits to float around briefly before suddenly rejoining again.

The ground beneath him feels different, and it takes him a second to realise that he was on the floor of your lair.

“What the fu-”

“Hello,” your voice comes from above him.

“You can teleport.” It’s not difficult for him to look at you now without the sun in his face. His arm is still stuck to the magnet but since the giant rod it was attached to was no longer deep in the ground, he could lift the entire apparatus up relatively easily.

“What, like it’s hard?” You discarded your bag on the floor. “You good? Takes a while to get used to.”

He gives you a grunt in acknowledgement, shaking his arm to see if he had any luck. It didn’t budge.

“Come on, take a seat.” You gesture to a lab chair you’ve pulled up for him on the raised platform at the front of the room. He realises that this is the first time he’s properly seen what’s actually inside your lair.

There are various buttons that do God knows what, drawers and cabinets painted black, several computer screens and gigantic pillars of glass on either side of the set up that encapsulate some green bubbling liquid. There’s a giant television set up against the wall, divided into several screens.

“Whaddya think?” You do a small swoop of your arm to show off the place.

“Gamer,” he says simply, testing his luck.

“What did you just say to me?” you recoil instantly, disgust on your face.

“It’s a gamer set up.” He points a finger at the TV screen. He was told by Shuri to use it as an insult, but he wasn’t exactly sure why. It just felt appropriate.

“Take that back right now.” You raise a finger accusatorially at him.

“No.” He was sticking with it even though he had no idea what exactly the context was.

“Fuck your arm,” you announce, throwing your hands up in surrender.

“Fuck your demolition then,” he replies simply, getting up from his place on the chair to leave with the thing still attached to him.

He takes one step ahead before your voice rings out.

“Sit down, drama queen,” your voice calls from behind him. “God, you’re annoying.”

“You’re infuriating.”

“I’m the best part of your week,” you fire back, ”and also your only way out of this. Now sit down.”

He didn’t even need the second warning, he was already on the chair the first time around.

“I’m not going to build a switch to turn this off. It’d take too long,” you examine the piece of equipment with more gentleness than he was expecting, “I’m going to remove it instead. It’s gonna take a while, so you better get comfortable.”

“I’m not.”

“That’s so sad,” you say without any indication of wanting to help.

He rolls his eyes.

You pull up next to him, welding glasses covering your face and the tool in your hand.

He turns away when you start, making sure his face is not directly within its trajectory.

He makes himself busy by looking around some more. There are details you’ve put into the place, materials that are non-flammable made up most of the architecture. It’s dramatic, sure, but somehow the designs and colours seemed to go together. It did look sinister, he’d give you props for that.

The space was quite big. It occurs to him only then that that’s how you manage to sneak up on him so often in the past. Everything clicked. Fucking teleportation.

“So,” your voice was raised to speak over the noise. “How’s it going?”

He decidedly doesn’t answer. His position is more than enough.

“Right.” You clear your throat.

He takes to counting the tiles on the floor, figuring out how many were there from the raised platform to the wall of the entrance.

“Not how you imagined your day to go, huh?” you continued despite his lack of response. “But some might say it’s a privilege to be spending the day with a cool, mad scie-”

“Are you going to keep talking?” he interrupts, losing his count on the floor.

“Yeah, duh,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You got anything better to do?”

He didn’t.

“What’s it like living with a bunch of superheroes?” You change course. He’s not sure if he’s really allowed to disclose top secret information. “I assume there’s a lot of protein shakes, talcum powder for the chafing-”

Then again, how much damage could you do by knowing that Steve preferred pancakes over waffles?

“It’s quiet,” he says. “Most of the time.”

“Save all your smart talking for the battlefield, huh?”

He doesn’t reply. It’s quiet around the Tower. A lot of their energy goes towards missions and recuperating once they’re back.

“You go on missions a lot?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Boo, you whore,” you say with mock disappointment.

He got that reference.

“What’s your favourite food then?”

He scrunches his eyebrows.

“What?” The welding stops for a second while you look at him. “Don’t tell me that’s classified too.”

It’s not, he’s just never thought about it.

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, “Pasta?”

“Vague, but I’ll take it.”

He used to boil a lot of pasta, from what he could remember of his days in hiding. Cheap and bought in bulk before he saved up enough to buy things like fruits. A lot of the times the amount of sauce he had access to was enough for maybe seasoning, not a whole component on its own.

It’s one of the perks of being a free man in the 21st century he thinks, a steaming bowl of fettuccini drenched in sauce and garlic bread on the side.

“What do you do in your downtime?”

“Nothing.” Well, he considers it to be a pass time and doing nothing is a full time gig. It takes effort to do nothing. He even has days dedicated to doing nothing, as suggested to him by his therapist.

“Really?” You sound a little surprised, although it’s hard to make out when you’re already speaking a lot louder than usual. “No shining your penny collection? No software update for this thing?” You tap at his arm.

There really isn’t anything. Truth be told, he thinks he’s the most boring guy in the Tower. He sticks to himself, has a few succulents that he adores and occasionally watches trashy television. So then why are you so interested in him?

“You’re obsessed with me,” he says pointedly. “Why?”

You give a short laugh. “I think it’s the blue eyes, sarge, they’re really popping today. Gotta say, I’m loving this colour on you. Is it different from the black you wore last week? And from the one from the week before that?”

He looks down at his dark t-shirt and utility pants. He had other clothes but those were reserved for things that were not this.

“Or maybe it’s the grumpiness, I don’t know. I love it when someone shows absolutely no interest in me. Very sexy of you.” Oh jeez, you were going to continue. “Hell, maybe it’s the thighs-”

“Okay,” he interjects, feeling the need to count the tiles more than ever. He equates the heat in his neck from the welding going on beside him.

The loudness of your laughter is clearer than the sound of metal on metal when you tug a large piece of the invention off. Things were moving fast. He could get back home to his Star Trek marathon and forget this day ever happened.

“You know, you’re more interesting than you think,” you pipe up casually.

He doesn’t expect this and therefore he supposes he can’t stop the curiosity from enveloping his face. He hasn’t told you anything about himself, so then the inference you reached came out of nowhere.

Apparently, you take notice of the confusion on his face, even though he can’t see through the giant welding mask, because you let out a chuckle.

“Oh, come on, really? You have no idea?” you ask lightly, pausing to see if he offers anything other than silence. “You’ve come back almost every week even though you know it’s a waste of your time, you always keep your promises and I know for a fact that if you wanted to stop me once and for all, you could have. But you’re not.”

He doesn’t realise you’ve stopped welding until you start again. Good, it gives him an excuse not to have to look at you after that.

Frankly, he’s a little stunned.

You’re not looking at him, he can tell from his peripheral vision. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a small crush on me.”

At that, he’s forced to roll his eyes out of instinct. Thankfully you do know better.

A few screws out later, another piece comes out. You inform him that’s it’s going to get trickier from there since the circuit was a little more intricate, a lot more time than the original few pieces. He can see his Star Trek marathon fade away in the distance.

You ask him a few more questions. Some he answers with silence, others maybe a tidbit here and there.

“How’s dating now compared to the forties?”

“Strange.” He purses his lips in thought. “One guy asked for a gym date. Didn’t know that was a thing.”

“How’d that turn out?” you laugh.

“He didn’t ask for a second one.” His Bumble matches with girls somehow had gone down since he cut his hair, but he’s not too bothered. Not like there was a huge shortage.

He likes cats, thinks the worst merchandise that they make is the stupid baseball card with his face on it, and doesn’t have social media for the sake of his sanity. He’s seen the thirst tweets.

Clearly, he’s revealed his deepest, darkest secrets. Utterly classified material. But he doesn’t know anything about you other than your name, number, address, where you teach, what your hobby is-

“You, uh-” he hesitates, “You got a favourite food?”

Your hands hold still to hover above what they’re working on. You fight back a smile. “Sure do.”

He asks a few more questions. Shuts up when he feels his social battery drain. That’s enough for the next month, he thinks.

The sun’s dipped down beyond the horizon by the time majority of the work is completed. Both of you have taken a few breaks to fight the feeling of stiffness that was creeping into your joints.

You scoff and tell him you’re not planning to poison him when he denies the offer of a soda. He doesn’t deter in his decision.

“How much to go?” He has a mission tomorrow that he’d really like to get some sleep in before. Waking up at 3am to get ready was the worst part of the job.

“Basically done.” You roll your chair back, rotating your shoulder and stretching your fingers. “There’s just this little part that I can’t access from this angle. How good are you at hanging upside down like a bat?”

Fuck it, he sighs to himself, it was almost finished anyway.

Bucky stands up, tilting his neck to the side slightly before pulling at a small latch under his arm, one so tiny that you’d never make out was even there unless you knew it existed. The arm releases from his shoulder with a small click.

He offers it to you, a piece of your magnet still attached to it.

Your eyes are slightly wide. He raises his eyebrows.

You don’t say anything, just accept it and flip it to a position you were comfortable with. It takes only a minute or two for the sound of the last piece hitting the floor to reverberate through the hall.

You give a small cheer. He lets out a tiny exhale in equal parts fatigue and relief.

“So,” you drawl, handing his arm back to him, “you could have just done that the whole time.”

He doesn’t reply, just slides it back onto his shoulder.

“You had the option of leaving your arm here and coming back later to get it.”

He gives it a few shakes, opens and clenches his fist shut a few times to make sure everything is working.

“You wanted to talk to me.”

He gives you a deadpan look. “I was distracting you.”

“Bullshit,” you laugh.

“Believe what you must.” He shrugs, turning around. “My job here is done regardless.”

“Oh, I believe alright,” you call out from behind him as he walks towards the entrance of your lair. “I believe you’re a sneaky bastard, Bucky Barnes.”

He doesn’t stop himself from smiling at the overdramatic gasp you give when he flips you a middle finger. From the metal arm, too.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years ago

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The Demon Bros Play DND!

Who’s ready for some Stupid Headcanons?

So, the Satanic Panic of the 1980s claimed that the tabletop RPG known as Dungeons and Dragons had the power to turn your children into satanists and devil worshippers. So of course, the brothers have totally played DND after hearing about all the human world nonsense.

Lucifer the Back-up Back-up DM

He’s too busy to play this game dammit, stop inviting him! What do you mean both Satan and Simeon can’t DM the one-shot? Ugh... fine.

Despite all his UUUUUUUUGGGGHHH, Lucifer is a damn good storyteller, prepare to be immersed as hell.

Also, sorry guys, he’s a rule whore. If something’s against the rules, YOU AREN’T DOING IT.

He’s also a complete sadist who will randomly get everyone to roll perception checks for NO REASON.

Lucifer has definitely stood up and slammed his hands on the table while giving a description for extra effect, Mammon screamed and nearly fell out of his seat which REALLY ruined the mood.

“Everyone, we’re rescheduling, I’m too busy.”

He’s been a player a few times, and he’s NOT good at it. All his characters end up being really generic and boring. He’s better at being the world and everything in it, not the dummy wandering around it.

Human/fighter lookin’ motherfucker

In conclusion, he’s a good DM, but he’s probably too busy to play.

Over-Powered Self Insert (Mammon)

This game is for nerds! He’s not playin’, Levi!

Fine, his character is great and amazin’ and is also him. MC! What do these numbers mean-

Mammon’s the type of player to make his character a self insert and not take it too seriously, then get really REALLY attached as the campaign progresses.

He’s the type not to make a backstory for his character either, so go wild DM MCs!

He also both purposefully and accidentally metagames a whole bunch. Like dude, YOU know this, YOUR CHARACTER DOES NOT.

Shit he forgot his dice, can he borrow some?

“Okay MC, that’s five points of piercing damage.” “I RUN OVER AND HEAL THEM! I’LL SAVE YA MC!”

Mammon goes out of his way to save MC’s character long before it would make sense in-character to do so.

“Well, as your first man it’s my duty to save your character! You’ll probably be a blubberin’ mess if I didn’t...”

He’s not the best role player, but he’s also not the worst at it either. He tends to break character when things get too serious and he doesn’t know what to do.

Notes who? He came in here with one sheet of printer paper and it’s for doodling only.

He and Asmodeus start the tavern brawls. No question about that.

Theft is very common, he’s stealing from everyone, including but not limited to: the party, the royal guards, the dead enemies, the giant fuck-you dragon that Satan dropped in there to deter Mammon from stealing...

“I’m gonna steal that crown from the dragon.” “Roll stealth.” “Nat 20 BITCHES.” “Fuck you.”

If his character dies, may the Demon King have mercy on his greedy little soul because he’s going to mope about it for a damn long time.

Over-Powered Self Insert Again (Leviathan)

His character totally isn’t a self insert, shut up! He just looks and acts like an idealized version of himself!

He’s the one with twenty pages of character info and backstory AND the amazing commissioned art.

Levi has about 40 sets of expensive blue dice that he claims gives him the best rolls but an average session with him usually leads to roughly 10 crit fails.

While his luck with dice isn’t that good, he’s the player who will get as much out of their turn as possible, AKA break out the calculators and notes we’re doing some math.

His turn goes on for at least ten minutes because of all the shit he’s doing. When you finally think it’s over he goes “I still have my movement!”

Takes notes like a madman, every bit of lore and character info is being written down, meaning it’s a headache for everyone involved if there’s a continuity error because Levi WILL point it out.

“So you all head to the east, the great Valley of-” “Hang on, valley? In the second session you said there was a mountainous area to the east.” “Levi, shut up.”

Levi is the self appointed “guys come on let’s get back on track!” player, and whoever’s DMing is grateful to have him.

Levi is kind of the opposite of Mammon in terms of character seriousness, at first he’s taking everything super seriously and then as the campaign goes on he slowly loosens up and has some fun.

Out of curiosity one day he searches up a magical girl DND class and he’s ALL OVER IT. PLEASE LET HIM BE A MAGICAL GIRL NEXT CAMPAIGN-

Damn good at roleplaying, he’s carrying the entire in-character discussion until everyone else gets into it.

The Done With Your Bullshit DM (Satan)

So, this is the game that’s supposedly summoning him all the time despite the fact that he hadn’t been up to the human world since the 50s... what the fuck is everyone on up there?

It was the 80s, probably a lot of drugs.

When Satan DMs, you can only break the rules if it enhances the story... or if it fucks with Lucifer’s really boring character.

He will fudge dice rolls every once and a while, he also gets very attached to the characters everyone has made so he doesn’t want to perma-kill any of them unless they roll a DND quadruple natural 1 sin or something.

As attached as he gets, he isn’t above completely raging, killing everyone’s characters, and ending the session if everyone’s being annoying.

Don’t worry, your characters will be safe and sound next session once everything calms down... just don’t mention how Satan burned your character sheet right in front of you. It’s your fault if you didn’t make a second copy of your character sheet!

He’s pretty decent when it comes to improv when a player stumbles into something he didn’t plan out, but that’s not going to stop him from getting a little annoyed.

Though, if you somehow manage to get to the big bad too soon... yeah sorry, he’s got a way more dramatic fight scene planned, your player’s getting conveniently blasted out of there.

As a player, Satan is pretty decent at the game overall, but he tends to be a little aggressive if there’s an overarching mystery to be solved.

He needs to understand what’s going on! He doesn’t care if it upends the plot or it’s too early to find out! He needs to know!

His character is actually distinct and different from himself, Satan thinks it’s more interesting that way. All the books he’s read have made him a pretty awesome role player!

Satan’s notebook both as a DM and a player is filled to the brim, no detail is too insignificant to be put on the page.

Satan doesn’t fear dungeon puzzles... dungeon puzzles fear Satan.

“Are you all stupid?! This puzzle is so easy a four year old could solve it!”

I ROLL TO SEDUCE- (Asmodeus)

At first he didn’t want to play, he doesn’t play these kinds of games, sweetie. He’s too pretty.

When he’s finally convinced he puts a decent amount of effort into his character, but leaves the backstory pretty open.

Asmo would probably be the bard... right? No. He’s the warlock with the magic sugar daddy patron, and the warlock patron is spoken to as such.

“Hey baby... how’ve you been? Have I been good~?” “...”

Huh! Who woulda thought that all the bedroom roleplaying would transfer so well to DND!

Simeon is the only DM that doesn’t immediately shut this down, so Asmo will be extra inclined to play if Mr. Nice Shoulders is DMing.

When he gets really into it he buys a bunch of sparkly and very pretty dice, they bring him good luck in every roll!

Asmo has a fictional harem, no question about it. It gets to the point where Satan, Lucifer, and Simeon stop describing NPCs as attractive.

He’s rolling to seduce either way, he’s turned many an antagonist into a lover. To be fair, Asmo’s horniness has gotten everyone out of a lot of jail cells... so they can’t complain.

His notes consist of really random comments about the plot and the other players. It’s also COATED with doodles.

‘Wow, this character is such an asshole, I hope Belphie kills them.’ ‘Shit.’ ‘MC looks so cute when they play their character!!!!!!!! :D’

Poor bab forgets the rules a lot... it’s just too much to remember, okay?! How was he supposed to know that he ran out of spell slots an hour ago?!

Please help him, MC...

*Dice Cronch* (Beel)

Homeboy has been given edible dice, no question. He has also eaten the non-edible dice...

Beel goes to Satan for help with making his character, and he ends up really loving the character! :D

Problem is, he’s not that good at roleplaying... D:

“Can my character eat that person?” “Beel, no- you know what? Let me check what you’d need to roll to do that.”

I’ll save you MC part 2 electric boogaloo, but when it comes to Beel, the entire party is getting protected, no matter how little it makes sense in-character.

While Beel does take notes, a lot of them don’t end up being very important for later events. For example, he’ll jot down stuff about the layout in one room, but it turns out he didn’t take notes for the room that was actually going to be used for a boss fight.

He’s always nice to the NPCs, shame Belphie doesn’t show them the same courtesy.

Murder Hobo (Belphie)

Chaotic evil.

“Belphie, your character’s alignment is neutral good, remember?” “Fuck that, this guy’s annoying me.”

If Belphie doesn’t like an NPC, it’s up to the rest of the party to stop him from derailing the campaign and killing them.

He has space themed dice because cow-man likes space and thought they were pretty.

Notes? NOTES? You think Belphegor, the Avatar of SLOTH, takes notes? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-

He’s drooling all over the notebook... ew. Someone wake him up and tell him it’s his turn.

He puts about 35% effort forth to make a halfway decent character, and approximately 4% effort to actually roleplay.

Belphie sleeps through important plot details so he’s almost always really confused. He’ll turn to MC and ask them to explain what he missed before not learning his lesson and going back to sleep.

Wake him up for the dungeon puzzles though, he and Satan love those.

“Okay, we can’t see what’s in the room because none of the conscious party members have dark vision?” “Nope, what do you do?” “...I shove Mammon inside and shut the door.” “WHAT?!”

Bonus! The Best DM (Simeon)

Our favourite angel has homebrewed this entire campaign and boy fricken howdy are these players going to enjoy it.

Simeon fudges the dice rolls to avoid anything too irreversibly bad happening, buuuuuuut he’s still a total asshole who does the random perception rolls to keep everyone on their toes.

Everyone gets a character arc god dammit, even if they don’t have a backstory, one will be provided!

He’s got a map, he’s got miniatures, he’s got dice and backup dice for the backup dice, he’s got DM notes for days!

Simeon could be a voice actor with the amount of character voices he can do, no one ever gets confused with who’s talking.

Did someone just uncover a massive bit of plot that was meant to be found out later? Good job! No harm done! Simeon’s DM improv is second to none, and the plot will adjust accordingly!

#Obey me #Obey me!#Obey me Headcanons #obey me! headcanons #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Mammon #Obey me Simeon #Obey me Leviathan #obey me beelzebub #Obey me Belphegor #Obey me Satan #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me MC #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date?

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olderthannetfic · 3 years ago

Note

my mom and her sisters are all getting into bts, but they’re very much in it for the music and the dancing and pretty boys, less for fandom stuff. so, who are your favorite members/ships/fanon?

Oh god. Where do I start?

There are a lot of eras of fanon you can see in different fics, and there are different flavors of fanon depending on what ships someone likes. While I like actual BTS a lot, particularly for their rap, I treat the fic more like original BL. I like a lot of different versions, and I prefer the more multi-shippy authors who aren't so wedded to the few really big ships.

RM is probably my favorite overall just as an artist (and pretentious philosopher), but I love them all as stock fic characters.

I like namkook because I like "Sempai, notice me!" ships. I'm also a sucker for anything where a mentor type is having a meltdown internally about how bad they are for their crush on The Baby... meanwhile The Baby is a filthy little demon who is not only actively pursuing the mentor but is like "Can you hold me down and call me rude names?"

There's some interesting fic set earlier in their careers (or riffing off of that in another setting) about Jin being hired only for his face and whichever other member being hired only for their talent and their mutual jealousy/distrust/etc.

There are obviously a zillion possible ships, especially considering how often people go for ships with more than two. I more often do tag searches for vmin, sope, namkook, rapline OT3. Sometimes, I look for jihope or for vmin+another member. I'm partial to OT7, particularly of the JK/everyone variety, but there aren't a lot of fics that aren't just mindbreak porn or something. People often send me good recs for namgi, namjin, taejin, yoonjin, and jikook with top Jimin.

I don't actually care about the sex positions part, but I find that a lot of bottom Jimin fic is egregiously woobietastic in particular ways I hate. Taekook has a ton of fic, most of it extremely annoying to me, but I still check it out reasonably frequently because I'll be searching for magic school AUs or whatever, and it will come up. Minjoon and yoonmin also have a lot of fanon I find stupid and annoying, but I'll still read fic if it comes up in some trope search, especially if it's one of those fics with them divided 2/2/3 and all of the ships mattering in the fic. My biggest hate is reserved for anything that turns either Namjoon or Hobi into a thinks-he's-straight fuckboy who needs to learn a Very Special Lesson™ about modern US queer identity as seen through the lens of tumblr. Times one billion if either Yoongi or Jimin is the femme woobie in that fic. Did people listen to that fucking Tony Montana song? Did they? JESUS CHRIST. (Okay, "Expensive Girl" and "Trouble" are also hilarribad in similar annoying teen boy ways, but have people forgotten Jin was on the latter too?)

Basically, one of my rage buttons in any fandom is people equating someone being genetically taller or having a less idol-looking face with their approach to sexuality, identity, and gender. We all fucking wish our bodies looked like our insides. Half of tumblr would be androgynous, sylphlike ectomorphs if we could. But guess what? We get to be short, fat, and have giant boobs that are hard to hide. Not all of us. But a lot of us. I think I've got a pretty hot body, but it's not necessarily the body I'd have chosen, you know?

Fic where someone's like "I wish I was small and cute" and someone else is like "Fuck you, I'd kill to look big and manly like you" is interesting. Fic where your body is your personality is not.

Anyway, all of BTS appear to have been dumb teenagers, whether that's an excessive love of Scarface (ugh, film bros, why) or watching so much porn they filled the dorm computer full of viruses (lol, Namjoon and Jin, you thirsty bitches). I don't really care what people extrapolate from this in fic as long as it isn't some tired "RM is tall so he's The Man and Jimin is short so he's The Girl" shit.

Uh... anyway...

I like fic where all 7 of them are there and important to each other if it's an AU. If it's set in something approaching their real careers, I often like it if their other friends and associates are mentioned and they have a life outside of the group, though since I'm not that familiar with most of the famous people they're known to be friends with, I often like that better as a catalyst for "We pretend to be bffs for our reality tv shows, and now I'm insecure because I want to be that close for real but what is real when you're an idol????"

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herstarburststories · 4 years ago

Text

He didn’t make it to 42

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: it’s Dean’s birthday, you go to visit him with some news and things that need to be said.

A/N: Happy bday, De.

Warnings: so much angst, mentions of sex, hopeful/happy ending (?)

Dean’s dead. It’s Dean’s birthday and he’s dead. You can’t argue much.

Sam denied the demon blood inside him, and that didn’t stop its evil nature from growing and gasping for his fresh air to the point he was almost shocked alive. Dean denied his dad’s destructive methods’ results for the longest time, and that didn’t stop the cicatrixes in every emotion he had ever shown. You denied the absence of Dean and that didn’t stop the bricks cracking in your soul. There’s only so far you can go with your eyes closed.

So here you are. Standing in front of an empty grave. You are bigger than the dull tombstone, yet you can’t help but not to feel tall, at all. How can you even start to talk? Talking to Dean used to be easy even when it got hard and now you’re feeling like a lost kid in a supermarket. Your snide thinking spells out his name with venom, saying it isn’t easy for you to open your barmy mouth and spill out contrarian shit because this isn’t Dean, just another meaningless symbolism that Sam promises that will help. The real Dean died almost a year ago, he was burned in a hunter’s funeral, the flames dancing over his body as the smell of burnt meat invaded your nostrils. Whenever you try to remember his fragrance, that manly aroma which you loved to scent each morning, all your brain can come up with is the odor of his skin and guts burning. The smell lingers like bad perfume, it doesn’t matter how many times you wash yourself with his soap-- that only broke your heart worse.

But today is Dean’s birthday. He deserves a visit, even if it’s not him. Then you go and attempt to deal with the desolation, push it away just a little, and pick up something from the enormous pile of things you wish to tell Dean. You glance at the cold tombstone: Dean Winchester. 1979 - 2020. Beloved son, big brother, and husband. Hunter. A hero. Simple definitions that can never make it up for who he was and what he meant. You purse your lips and cough a little, a gentle wind touches your cheek so tenderly. If you were still a believer, you’d think this is some sort of sign, Dean’s presence or some other pious hoax. All you do now is to remain in quietude, a deep breath. Ultimately, your voice comes:

‘’You didn’t make it to forty two, huh?’’ You scoff humorless, reminiscing to the multiple days that Dean said he wouldn’t go past 35. He did live each year like it was the last--- you aren’t sure if it's such a good thing. If you carry on like your days are outnumbered, you are silently entertaining yourself until death's knock on your door. ‘’I always hated when you were right. Let’s be honest, you had the words of a pessimist and the wants of an optimist. Still, if you were to be right about something, it would be about a bad situation. A nest with too many vampires, how crappy the motel’s bedroom would be, or how that third glass of wine would make me tipsy. So yeah, I always hated when you were right. And look at you now! You aren’t right, you aren’t wrong. You are dead! And I’m the crazy girl screaming at an empty tombstone.’’

You let out a laugh empty of joy. That’s how a hunter’s life is: you die and people stop talking about you because it’s too sad or too long gone to hold any pity, meanwhile the ones who recall about you go loud with all the spirits in their heads. You put your hand in the pockets of the heavy leather jacket that once belonged to a green eyed man who would be turning 42 today, some strange force causing you to speak again.

‘’Wow.’’ You shake your head to the blue way you paint the scene until you notice that you never greeted him. ‘’Hey.’’ The simple word adds a comical insult to injury. ‘’Guess the dead don’t care about manners, huh?’’ You arch your eyebrows with a grin that demonstrates anything but happiness. ‘’Miracle died. Sam digged a hole next to the bunker and buried him there. He isn’t the same since you died, you know? Not the deceased dog-- Well, he wasn’t the same either. Always whining and scratching your door like a fucking cat, and sniffing your old boots. He made me company in your bed and I whined as much as he did when you didn’t come back home that day. He stood by the door most days, waiting for you to appear. I can’t judge him, I did the same.’’ You shrug, not caring about how risible that confession may look. It's true. You became as irrational as a loyal dog at some point in this sorrow. ‘’And Sam, your baby brother… I think he died with you right there, Dean. He didn’t try to bring you back as he promised, but I shouted and screamed so much. I said I would burn the bunker and throw Baby over a cliff if he didn’t-- if he didn’t let me try. I lived up to the mad woman title.’’

You are crestfallen, pacing on top of where the eldest Winchester - Sam’s brand new nomination - supposedly was buried. You know your boots barely touch an infected land, there's no deceased man under your steps. The dead thing is in you.

‘’I spent days dragging your body everywhere and nowhere, anywhere I could catch a crumb of relief in hope to bring you back. But I couldn’t. Jack could, but that ungrateful idiot doesn’t wanna follow his grandpa steps and get too attached to mere humans, the creation or whatever. As if we are just some skin and bone to him, as if you are just another human.’’

You sit down on the tombstone, some tender solace in being close to a thing that's supposed to represent him, like sleeping hugged to a pillow or waking up to a photograph of his. Your nails sink against the gelid concrete at the thought of screaming into the sky for the new God that seemed as deaf as the last one. His calm answer to your burning pain. How he dared to tell you he knew what he was doing— as if he was the original lord and not a three years old. You can't make him do it, so you hold on the fury of some overthrown nation.

‘’Anyway, I couldn’t bring you back. Your body, well, you know how human anatomy works. Your body started to smell like death. We tried to stop with human and magic ways, and it wouldn’t work because you were dead. You should’ve seen the doctor’s face when we got you in that fancy hospital tha night. I think we traumatized the doctor with so much violence and trauma. She didn’t even give us a false hope or anything, you know? She just asked about organ donation of what was left. She just wanted to take every little thing out of you, as if you were just another accident on a Tuesday night.’’ Your shake your head as the memories and your points start to mix, it's hard to discern things and keep a straight line when you have an open wound in your insides. ‘’Well, they couldn’t bring you back to life, and neither could Rowena or whatever I looked for. Don’t be mad because I tried, Winchester. You know I’m too stubborn for my own good. I had to try.’’ you refuse to apologize, yet adds the playful words in his eulogy. ‘’But then your body started to stink and God, how could I continue to be so violent to your corpse? That was when I decided to listen to you for the first time and to Sam, so I let you go. I hate you for asking that.’’ What an ambiguous, contradictory truth to bare. You are glimpses of a person for months because of Dean Winchester, still have the energy to argue his selfless logic, just to love him even more. He's got your devotion, but man you can hate him sometimes. ‘’I hate you for going on that stupid hunt. I hate you for being dead, you giant idiot that I love so much.’’ You can't bring your mouth to say loved. "I was always telling you to let the past go and now I’m in love with a dead thing. What a comic way to end our history. I told you that Miracle died, right? I don’t know if dogs go to heaven, but I hope he’s in there with you. I wonder what your heaven is like. I bet it has Whiskey.''

Your dry chuckle makes your notice the tears in your eyes, glistening your orbs as they go like a waterfall to be absorbed by the thirsty land after leaving your cheeks.

"Sam and I-- We tried to make some sense out of this cruelty, but we can’t. You are dead and I can’t seem to put it past me. I still sleep in your bed, and I can still taste your body burning on the roof of my mouth in the quiet nights. I cried this morning because someone asked for a burger, can you believe that? It was so stupid since I used to shake my head and argue with you about cholesterol. Suddenly I was crying at lunch in a restaurant because some stupid kid asked for a burger with extra bacon. They sang Happy birthday to this dumbass child, and I interrupted with my awful crying, and wished that you were celebrating your birthday and not that kid. I guess you could say I wish death upon an innocent child with a problematic eating routine.’’ That was a whole new level of low, as if you are the one wrapped with the sentiment of laying six feet under.

‘’Everyone tells you about how grief is singular and particular with similar emotions that bring people who went through this together. They even have that crap stages thing and all that. You know what they don’t tell you?’’ Your mouth shuts for a moment, like you are waiting some response. You nod as if whatever you were expecting is handed to you. ‘’Grief can be fucking ridiculous. Who cries because of a burger full of oil and cardiac diseases? Who cries because they found a grocery store recipe under her dead boyfriend’s bed? Who falls on the ground screaming in the middle of the mall because they saw a flannel? Who? Those things are so stupid.’’ You smile like there's no tomorrow and the laugh leaving your lips is a treacherous tone. Perhaps you just aren't build up to express joy anymore. ‘’You see it in the movies and in the books and you think, you know, you think to yourself that grieving is being sad on special dates and randomly remembering the loved ones because of some screaming memory, like a flannel or their perfume. Thing is, it’s not just that. All your body seems so small, so tight for all the ache and agony inside it. Your senses go wild, you are not just one person in one place. You’re just the pain everywhere, like being pulled apart and you beg to jump in the fucking grave with them. At least you would be together, at least you would feel like one person and not suffering edges of a broken earthy thing. And--And you start remembering things you didn’t even know you had mesmerized. I look at the ceiling and remember you saying you’d paint it someday. I look at the kitchen and remember me screaming at you for giving Miracle the rest of the food. I smell Sam’s clothes and started crying because hey, they don’t smell like alcohol. You don’t iron them while drinking anymore, so of course they don’t smell like cheap beer.’’ You are chuckling through the tears and it only makes it more monstrous. ‘’Everything is you now that you are gone. Every man has something similar to you, every garden is green as your eyes, and each step sounds like you are coming home. They didn’t prepare me, not for this.’’ You said breathless. A soft single follows. The knife cuts both ways; the empty breeze and the words hurt. Where's the middle term? Where's the limbo? Where's the only safe place for you to rest your weary head?

Out of nowhere, you blurt out, ‘’I can’t masturbate,’’ I know it’s something stupid and even selfish to say, but I think you’d like to know. I can’t masturbate. That’s a part of the whole losing someone process that people are too ashamed to discuss, or maybe they don’t have the urge to be touched anymore because after someone you love dies, after someone-- the hands who touched are dead and cold, you become a haunted object. That’s how I feel most days, like I’m a haunted house because you touched me and now you’re dead and some days I believe I am too.’’ You look around the places. It's beautiful. It's lonely. It has trees and flowers and green. Not as green as Dean's eyes, but it doesn't matter anymore. He doesn't even have eyes at this point. ‘’Well, I can’t masturbate. I can’t touch myself. And I can’t ask someone else either. I tried and ended up punching the guy, Dean. I swear. I panicked when he was between my legs and just punched his nose. You’d have liked it, you were always the jealous kind. I won’t admit that, but I thought it was kinda hot. Especially when you got possessive in sex.’’ A dirty grin appeared on your lips, the echoes of luxury lasting in your eyes for a brief moment. ‘’I don’t think I can be cared for anymore, honestly. Sam tried to hug me when Miracle died and I… It was like I wasn't there. I got frozen in time, and I live in my sleep. In my nightmares you are alive. I dream about the day you died every week and I used to wake up screaming, but now those nightmares are the only proof you were alive now that you’re as dead as the police report says this time. It was the most painful, calamitous moment for you and I swear it was a nightmare for me, but then I realized that at least I had you there, egoistical or not, I made my nightmare into a dream.’’ You aren't sure which opinion Dean would have on that. Would he understand? Would he shake his head? You wish you can ask him just this one more thing, just beg him to write it down for you on how to be without him here.

You raise on your feet, glaring at the name craved in the concrete. The tears go by still, although they're as usual as the blood in glir veins at this point. ‘’Death is so silly. What it takes, anyway?" Each word conquers more inches of pure wrath. ''People die because they stumbled on their own feet and hit their head somewhere, or they drove their car too close and too fast to the cliff, or because they were giving birth, or because they dated the wrong person, or because they were hunting a fucking vampire and got impaled. What are the chances? How stupid, and idiotic is death? Always creeping and waiting to bite and chew a piece of you-- Taking every scrap of you from me like that’s its right.’’ You are screaming, starting to kick and punch the tombstone with any piece of straight you have. Your limbs hurt and the blood is visible, but you keep going. ‘’YOUR STUPID DOG DIED, DEAN! AND YOU DIED! AND I DIED! SAMMY DIED! YEAH, IS SAID SAMMY! GO AHEAD, TELL ME ONLY YOU CAN CALL HIM THAT.’’ Another punch, your knuckles are ripped. Another kick, your boot as a hole. ‘’DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.’’ Kick. ‘’SAMMY, SAMMY, SAMMY!’’ A punch to each name. Anything to get a reaction, to get comfort. Anything. ‘’YOU CAN’T BECAUSE YOU ARE DEAD.’’ Gasping for something you don't need anymore, sweet oxygen, your eyes are on the tombstone again. And the definitions. And the trees. Your body is sore and aching. It is the kind and coercion no person wants which you needed; the freedom of feeling outside the exact pain that was inside. ‘’You can’t because you are dead. I’ve been playing some sick games in my mind, you know? Sam stopped hunting and had his closure. He was always better at letting go than you and I, but he’s still hurting. I never saw him hurting so much. I think he knows you won’t come back this time, how could you make us promise something like that? Well, my twisted game is a bunch of misleading what ifs. What if you hadn’t gone after John? What if you hadn’t gone on that last hunt? What if you had stayed with Lisa? At first I didn’t like her much. Jealous, I admit that. But she grew on me. She gave you something I couldn’t back then and I’ll always be thankful for that. And even though it would rip me apart, I’d rather you to die at sixth after living your suburban dream with her. Have another kid besides Ben, maybe a girl this time, and just have that apple pie life. You and Sam would live close and your kids would always play. They’d be as close as brothers. Maybe I’d get a guy and bring my own kids and we could’ve a barbecue and everyone would be happy. But we don’t get soft epilogues here. It ends how it starts, right? Bloody and desperate. I thought maybe, maybe Lisa could understand what’s going through my head now. I drove to her new address and parked close to her house. I must have spent hours there, thinking if I should come in or not, If she somehow remembered after Castiel died or if I could make her brain work again if I told her the truth. But then I just drove back home and fell asleep wrapped in that stupid lumberjack flannel of yours. The one I always mocked, yeah? She may understand me, but I know you wouldn’t want that. You want her, you want me and Sam to be happy. I don’t know if I can do that, Dean. It’s like myt brittle soul shrewd and my body is just waiting to collapse.’’ You signed, overwhelmed by the battle without an anthem. The victory with no triumph. Is it still a win when you don't have someone to come home too? ‘’Your dog died, it’s the first birthday you didn’t live to see, and I bought all the things you told Mrs Butters you wanted for your birthday because it’s your birthday. I just don’t know how to celebrate it with you dead. People stop counting after they die, right? They just say he’d have been 42 or he died at 41. They give melancholy smiles when they wake up and check the day on their phones and a woe atmosphere swallows them for the rest of the day. Then they get better the next day. I think everyday is your birthday.’’ You attempt to wipe away your tears, which only causes your pulsating hand to stain your face red. ‘’Dean, for the first time, what died stayed dead! Congrats.’’ Once again, a hysterical laugh. ‘’I wish but no. What died didn’t stay dead, you are alive, so alive in my head. I swear you are there some days. I wake and watch the door, so sure you’ll come back. Sam says I’m living in delusion and I have to wake up and keep going since that's what you would want. That's enough to make him keep going, but it only makes me angry. Everyone we know and some strangers looks at me like I'm a house on fire and no longer a warm home, like I'm a car accident. They think I don't notice but I do.’’ You look at your boots, the whole is rolling out blood like your hands. You feel closer to Dean. How sick.

‘’Help, I’m still right where you left me." You plea, his love lingering like a bruise. ''I think gravity is overwhelming and it keeps me here. Sometimes it’s like I’m one of those dusted books Sam used to read. Or those Bukowski ones that you hid, so we wouldn’t see how smart you’re. You tried so hard to hide your intelligence because you didn’t think you were entitled to it. You saw yourself as the protector and never the valuable one for protection. You, the man who made an EMF out of an old radio, who rebuilt the Impala from the ground multiple times, and who knew patterns better than any detective. The man who showed me I could rely on someone other than myself. The dude with a lopsided grin, tough hands and a heart of gold. I miss you so much. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were singing all those classic rock songs and Taylor Swift pop hits, while I drove here. I would think you were home, smelling like guts because you wanted to eat before taking a shower after a hunt. I would think that you are in the Deancave, waiting for me to curl up on your lap to watch Scooby Doo or Doctor Sexy MD until we aren’t watching anymore. If I didn’t know better I would think no death could take you from me. There would be no tear us apart in our vows.’’ The only thing that keeps your organism working is that Dean died knowing how much you loved him. You never let this talk for later or never. No tomorrow is promised. That's a nice comfort, maybe that's what will help you to let go in the future. ‘’But yesterday your stupid, skink dog died and I lost the last living thing that I had from you. You know what’s more angerting? I cried and Sam cried and I noticed we were the living things you left behind and all we have is each other. All your closets of backlogged dreams were left for us-- so yeah. Sam is done hunting and he’s met a lovely girl, and they are moving in like in your domestic dreams. I’m taking care of the family business like your other contradictory dream and making sure Sam is safe enough to be normal. Because I have to, we have too. Stupidly enough, I still wait for the day you’ll burst out the door and tell us to hit the road again. I still watch every episode of your dumb tv shows to make sure I’ll know everything that happened when you ask. I still drive around in your car and close my eyes when the street is calm, only picturing you driving as Baby’s engineers go wild but those are my hands on the steering wheel. If I didn't know better, I’d think you are still around. But I know better. I still feel you all around. I love you.’’

Your monologuing ends as astutely as it stated. You get up, press a kiss to your ruined for the next weeks hands and place it on the rock with writings. You turn around and walk back to the car that you parked near, only in case of Dean wanting to see Baby. How knows? You and your clandestine faith. You lick your lip and get in the car.

You swear you the AC/DC cassette wasn't there before, but when you turn on the car and the radio it starts playing. It's the first true smile that comes to your mouth, it's bloodstained and you look like a shameless woman. With that you can deal.

It hurts a bearable hurt for now. You didn't think it was possible. Maybe someday.

The end.

(she takes a little longer to arive in heaven than sammy. his baby brother says that women are most likely to live around six years more than men. it doesn't ease him up, though. dean waited sam for too long, his platonic soulmate. and now he has to wait his romantic one too? the eldest Winchester considers it the best earthly present when the he sense you around, that smell of orange and apples. it's you, he knows before even turning around. he can't wait to love you again. your name rolls off your tongue so naturally, as if you had seen each other just yesterday: ‘’hey, y/n.’’)

But then again, nothing ever really ends, does it?

REBLOG AND COMMENT. Feedback is magic and helps me!

Starburst's footnote: It just didn't feel right to make an author's note on the top. I wanted it all only to be an arrow to the story. So, this is my side note: it's six am and I'm up writing this after inspiration kissed me with a bruise in the middle of the night. Or more like grabbed my throat. Anyway, I had to write and finish this one to post today, even pushing sleep aside. Hey, we are writers, that's what we do! I've been watching the show since I was eleven and I cried like a baby with the finale. This series was just so important and crucial to molde aspects of relationships for me. The song marjorie by Taylor Swift was used here, and so was the line "you got my devotion/ but man, I can hate you sometimes" by Harry Styles. I told you guys I would use it somewhere! A special thanks to @msmarvelouswinchester who helped me with her encouraging and opinon. You are the best! And with all of this I wanna say: Happy bday, Dean Winchester!

REBLOG AND COMMENT! Feedback is magic! Especially about this fic, I’d like to know your opinion. Tags in the reblog! Send an ask or dm to get in the taglist.

#dean winchester #dean's birthday #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean winchester's birthday #dean winchester x you #supernatural #spn #dean winchester imagine #supernatural imagines #spn reader insert #dean winchester headcanon #dean winchester imagines

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iliumheightnights · 4 years ago

Text

Tony Stark Fluff ABC’s (Male Reader)

Tony Stark x Male Reader ...

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?) - Tony has TWO things he likes. Your looks and your brains. He loves a man that is smart while also being eye candy. Which is exactly what he thinks of you.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?) - Tony doesn’t want a family. At least that’s what he says before he gets his husband, Peter, Harley, etc. Now no one can touch his family otherwise someone is going to get hurt.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?) - Tony cuddles like a koala. He snuggles his entire body into you, his face pushed into your chest. “Mmm, warm and comfy.”

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?) - Go big or go home. Tony is going to spoil you with so many big and fancy dates. Only the best for you! However sometimes he does like to give you the nice simple dates with food he made terribly with candles.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…)) - “You are my entire universe. I don’t know how I could do anything without you.”

“Because you’re you Tony. You can do so much.”

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?) - Tony knew he was in love the moment he walked off the plane after his whole ordeal and saw you waiting for him, face full of worry. He thought of you lots during his time in the cave but it wasn’t until right there he realized it. He loved you.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?) - Tony surprisingly is very gentle. While people see him on tv and newspapers, they may think he’s rather cold and distant. Or they see him as just a playboy, but with you....he’s a whole other person. He’s so soft and makes sure you’re always alright, which is ironic coming from him.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?) - I see Tony as liking holding hands, but I can see him holding his pinky with yours. It might have started out as a joke but then he realized he loved it a lot so it stuck around that made him comfortable.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?) - He saw you at the party of course. You had attended with some of your friends. He thought you were one of the most gorgeous men he had even laid his eyes on. He of course was trying to get you in bed for a one night stand but after you turned him down, he couldn’t help but wonder…why did it hurt that you turned him down? He decided he was going to not keep trying to get you in bed to find out...he was going to take you on a date.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?) - Oh you just KNOW Tony is a jealous man. It’s not that he thinks you’re his, but when it comes to other men flirting with you...that’s when you’re his. Especially when he sees Austin Hammer starting to flirt with you, Tony immediately slides in and wraps his arms around you before kissing your cheek. “Ah hammer I see you’ve met my boyfriend. Where’s yours at? Still ignoring your calls I’m guessing?” Tony said with a smile.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?) - Tony can go back and forth. He’s either kissing with fiery passion like how he would during his parties or with so much love and tender like if he let go he’d lose you forever. It was for sure Tony who initiated the first kiss.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?) - Not Tony. Tony was not a person that could deal with personal feelings. Sure maybe he KNOWS he loves you but for some reason he just couldn’t get himself to actually yell you. That meant it was up to you to say it for and when you did Tony was quick to say it back, almost like he needed confirmation that you loved him too.

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?) - Tony’s favorite memory would probably be his first date with you. The way you smiled at the food that was delivered to you. The way you laughed at some of his jokes he considered stupid. How at the end of the night when he asked you for another date and you said yes with your signature smile. THAT was his favorite memory that he keeps with him.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?) - Yes. Tony thinks money is no object when it comes to you. Remember that giant bunny? Yeah imagine gifts like that and even fancier gifts. Sometimes you have to remind him that you don’t need all of the gifts...then he buys you double that.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?) - Tony thinks of you when he sees the color Navy Blue. It was the color of the lighting in the room where he first saw you, and it reminds him of that night every time.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?) - He calls you: Dearest, Lover, Future Mr.Stark, Mr.Stark, light of my life, etc. He keeps coming up with them too.

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?) - Tony? Being Quaint? It’s hard to imagine but it does happen! Tony rather loves when you read to him when he’s laying down using your lap as a pillow.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?) - Like you had to ask. He’s in his lab working on things, however that doesn’t mean you’re alone. No, you’re also there with him helping him out or just keeping him company. He makes sure you know he’s not trying to ignore you.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?) - He has to get his creativity out. He’ll be in the lab making something or he will draw blueprints. But that’s just the mechanic side, the non mechanic side also loves to just hold you. Sometimes taking a nap with you is enough to make him better.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?) - NOT avengers talk. No talk of iron man or avengers, he doesn’t want that in his home. He’ll ask about how you’re doing or will tell you about how Pepper is taking good care of the company, but he will do everything in his power NOT to talk about work at home.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?) - Music. He blasts his music so loud in his lab. It’s one of his ways to relax because he just loses himself in it. He absolutely loves when you start getting into the same music with him and especially loves it when you surprise it with VIP tickets to one of his favorite bands.

“You know I could have bought these right?”

“Yep, but I wanted to do something special for you finally.”

“I love you so much.”

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?) - His intelligence. Tony likes to show off just how smart he is and put people in their place. Even you can’t deny, it’s pretty hot.

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?) - Tony proposes to you during a vacation to Hawaii. It’s about two years after you started dating and he decides it’s time. He wanted to propose a lot earlier, but he didn’t want to seem desperate.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?) - Demons by Imagine Dragons. Tony doesn’t know why, but every time he hears that song. He just gets so relaxed.

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?) - Oh yes he does. “M/n, We’ve been dating for a long time and I couldn’t imagine a better man to spend the rest of my life with. Will you do me the honor of becoming the other Mr.Stark?”

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?) - Honestly? A rat or a ferret. I can see Tony being a rodent person.

#tony stark #tony stark x male reader #tony stark x male!reader #tony stark fluff abc #fluff #fluff abc #fluff abcs

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a-solitary-marshmallow · 4 years ago

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Rewind Chapter 8 - It Gets Worse

We're coming into the endgame, boys! Not much more of the story to go. As always, hope you enjoy!

(I wrote this in a fit of inspiration and it hasn't had much editing, so let me know if you see a typo!)

______________________________________________________________

It took Ford a moment to realize he wasn’t in his body anymore.

He blinked his eyes open, groaning, foliage swimming above him. He couldn’t feel the snow gathering on his skin. He pushed himself up, running a hand through his hair-

And noticed that his body was still on the ground.

Ford cursed and scrambled away, hands scrabbling through snow without disturbing it. “No, no, no-” If he was out here, then Bill-

His body opened one yellow, slitted eye and grinned.

Ford jumped to his feet and stabbed a finger at the demon in his body and tried to control his trembling. “Get out of my body, you- you- monster!”

“Come on Sixer, be creative! Get some new insults.” Bill rose with unnatural jerky motions, one eye still closed and the other a jaundiced yellow. He dusted snow off Ford’s jacket. “Clumsy much? I had a whole plan to lure you outside the barrier but thanks to you fleshbags, I don’t even need it. A waste of perfectly good gasoline, is what I say.” He blinked with one eye, then opened the other one again with a laugh. “Ah, there’s the depth perception! You beings are so primitive.”

Ford ran a spectral hand through his spectral hair, panic rising in his throat and making him want to hurl, if spirits could throw up. “What’s your plan now? Fiddleford will stop you from sabotaging the portal, you can’t hide those eyes!”

“True.” Bill pulled himself to his feet. Even after weeks – months – of piloting Ford’s body he still looked just a little wrong, movements jerky like that of a marionette’s.

“Then – then what do you want from me?”

“What makes you think I want you?”

What? Of course Bill wanted him, Ford was the only one he needed for his plan! Besides, there was no one out here except for Ford, and-

And-

Oh. Oh no.

“You stay away from my brother!” Ford tried to dive back into his body but he merely went straight through. Bill laughed and dusted himself off.

“Jeez, Sixer, paranoid much? I’m not gonna hurt the little brat. Not right now, anyway.” He grinned too wide. It made his face look stretched and wrong. Ford threw a wild punch that phased right through him. Bill let out a laugh and started walking deeper into the forest, whistling a merry tune.

Ford ran.

He didn’t know what else to do – what could he do? He was a specter, only able to watch the proceedings in the physical plane. So he pelted away from Bill’s cheerful whistling in search of his brother. He had to – to warn Stan of what was coming, to do something.

Not having a physical form did have its advantages. Ford didn’t bother to duck around trees and brambles that were in his way. It was only a matter of time before he caught up with his twin. Stan hadn’t gotten far, after all.

“Stanley!” Ford rushed towards the boy-sized lump huddled against a tree trunk. His hand plunged right through Stan’s shaking shoulder. “Oh, curse it – Stan, listen to me! You’re in danger. Bill has my body and he’s coming after you, you have to move!”

Stan mumbled something and for one giddy moment Ford thought that he’d been heard, until he listened closer and understood the words.

“Stupid. Watcha gonna do now? Y’made both of ‘em mad atcha. Ruined everythin’ again. Ugh, what’s wrong with you?” Stan ground the heels of his palms into his eyes and hiccupped. Ford tried to grab his brother’s hands, but he only managed to grasp air.

“Stan – Stan, listen, please – oh, you’ve got to have something I can use!” He looked around for something he could use as a puppet, an avatar, anything. His search came up empty. Damn it, what could he do-

“Stanl-ley!”

“Oh Stan-ley!”

Stan jerked up the sing-song voice in the distance. His feet hurt and his head was throbbing from crying and he was lost in the snow but that didn’t matter, not when he could hear his brother’s voice calling him. His brother who didn’t sound mad anymore!

“F-Ford?” His voice wavered. Dang it, he had to stop acting like a kid! “What are ya doing out here…? Ya came after me?”

Ford did care! He’d come for him! And by the tone of his voice he didn’t seem mad, either. Stan almost tripped in his haste to get to his feet. He scrubbed at his face to get rid of the tear tracks before Ford could see how much of a baby he was being.

Heavy footsteps sounded through the bushes nearby. Why hadn’t Ford called out again? Maybe he was still mad? Stan had hit him, after all.

“I, I’m sorry I was stupid!” Stan searched frantically for his brother in the trees. “I promise I won’t touch your lab space anymore. I’ll be good!”

There! Stan bolted towards the familiar figure that had finally came into view. Ford laughed and knelt down to catch him, holding tight as Stan buried his face in his twin’s coat. Stan sniffled and tried to stop himself from crying again.

“You… you’re not mad at me?”

“Stanley.” Ford pulled back to smile at him reassuringly. “Of course I’m not mad. I’ve long since stopped expecting you to be anything but a dead weight.”

Stan stiffened. His brother’s arms suddenly felt a lot less warm and comforting. He forced a brittle smile. “…what?”

“You were just messing things up like you always do.” Ford continued conversationally. Stan tried to pull away but Ford’s grip was like iron, fingers gripping hard enough to leave bruises.

Stan had gotten plenty of bruises before, but never six-fingered ones. He tugged against the hold, chest heaving with panic. “Let go – Ford, lemme go-”

Ford’s grip loosened, letting Stan yank back to fast that he slipped and hit the ground. He scrambled away from his brother, heart racing, as Ford stood. The man loomed over him.

“You know, it’s actually pretty funny.” Ford said as Stan got his frozen feet beneath him and stumbled backwards. Ford’s eyes looked almost yellow in the morning light, and the worst thing was that Stan couldn’t even see any anger in them. Just pleasantness, evident in his eyes and his smile. “How you destroy everything you come across.”

“Ford-”

“Like my science project!” Now, finally, Ford’s face twisted in anger. “I know you remember it, Stanley. I know you know what happened. Tell me, did you plan it in advance? Or was it a spur-of-the-moment sabotage?”

“I didn’t mean to break it!” Stan all but screamed. He balled up his tiny fists and shook. “I didn’t – I didn’t, I wouldn’t! You’re a liar! I didn’t, I didn’t, I didn’t!”

“Oh, but you did.” Ford snarled. “You did and you would do it again, and do you know why? Because you’re a parasite, Stanley. You’re a leech, and that’s all you’ll ever be.”

A breeze ruffled Ford’s hair but nothing else, like an intangible fist passed through his face. Stan’s eyes were too full of tears to see it. He could feel Ford’s eyes burning into him, stripping away his defenses and angry words, leaving nothing but the thought that maybe, just maybe, Ford was right.

“J-Just leave me alone!” Stan sniffled and scrubbed at the endless tears pouring down his face while Ford watched with a sneer. “G-Go away and – and-”

“And what? Go back to my project? Let you wander around, making even more messes for me to clean up? No, you’re coming with me.”

Ford reached for Stan’s arm but he yanked it back, stumbling away. Ford’s lip curled and he lunged.

Stan turned on his heel and bolted.

His heart pounded in his ears and breaths rasping in his throat, burning with cold. Ford shouted angrily after him but this time Stan didn’t stop.

He didn’t stop running when Ford faded out of sight, or when he stopped being able to feel his feet, or when he was gasping for breath. He didn’t stop until his chest burned like it was going to explode. Stan staggered to a stop, catching a tree to stop himself falling into the snow. The cold hair burned against his skin.

Why didn’t he bring any warm clothes? His teeth were chattering in his head, he couldn’t feel his fingers anymore. His feet were blocks of ice and he was so, so tired.

Stan wanted to go home.

But Stanley pines never got what he wanted. Behind him, a low growl sounded.

Stan’s head whipped around to catch sight of the grey-furred creatures stalking towards him – three of them, ears pressed tight to their skulls and hair bristling, white teeth and yellow eyes glistening. Stan’s scream caught in his throat and came out as a squeak.

“Nice – nice doggies?”

The lead wolf let out a snarl. Stan crouched down and fumbled through the snow for a weapon, eyes pinned to the wolves. He grabbed something solid only for the chunk of snow to crumble in his grip.

What were you supposed to do with wolves? Play dead? Or was that bears? Make yourself bigger to scare them away?

One of the wolves tensed to lunge, but before either it or Stan could make a move a piercing whistle sounded. Stan clapped his hands over his ears to block out the ringing noise. One of the wolves leaned back on its haunches.

“Oi! Get away from that kid, you big lumps.” There was a flash of yellow and then something was floating between Stan and the wolves, making the creatures cower and whine. The giant yellow – dorito? – waved its hand, sending the wolves scattering like ants. They scampered into the undergrowth and were gone in seconds.

Stan’s savior leaned forward, as if checking they were truly gone. Stan tried to step towards the floating thing but hissed as pain lanced through his feet. The triangle swung around. It looked… kinda ridiculous. One huge eye took up most of the space on its form with a little glowing bowtie pinned underneath, a tall tophat hovering above its highest point. Its voice reverberated in his head.

“You must be freezing your toes off! Here kid, on the house.” The triangle summoned a cane to its thin black hand with a flourish. Stan’s feet tingled.

He yelped as cloth wrapped around his feet, and before he knew it he was standing in a pair of thick, warm fur boots. The triangle’s eye crinkled up happily and he floated over.

“…cool.” Stan’s voice came out as more of a breath, and the triangle let out a laugh. It didn’t have a mouth to move but the sound echoed inside Stan’s skull, overlayed like a dozen people were speaking at once. A dozen nasally people.

“Don’t mention it! How ya doin’, kid? My name’s Bill.”

“…Bill?” Stan echoed, wiping half-frozen tears from his stinging face. The same sounded familiar.

“Yeah, that’s my name. Got a problem with it?”

“It’s just… ‘Bill’ is such a normal name. I thought wizard triangles would have fancier names. Like… Xanthar. Or something.”

Bill waved his hand dismissively, shrinking a little bit so that he could look Stan in the eye without his dangling feet touching the ground. “That one’s taken, but we’re getting sidetracked here. I’m no wizard, kid! I’m a muse!”

“What’s a muse?”

Bill let out a huff. “It’s a – you know what? Just think of me like a genie.”

“Holy – a genie?” Stan’s mind raced and he counted off on his fingers. “Okay, my first wish is to have a million dollars. No, a billion dollars! And then-” Bill clapped a hand over his mouth before he could continue. The skin had a weird texture, smooth and glossy like plastic.

��It doesn’t work like that, Stanny boy! You gotta make a deal. More of an ‘I scratch your back, you scratch mine’ kinda thing. How about it?”

Making deals… Stan’s eyes widened with recognition and he batted the creature’s hand away.

“Hey, you’re no genie! You’re that Bill demon Ford was talking about!” He stabbed a finger accusingly at the creature, who tilted sideways with a little giggle.

“You got that right! I am a demon. But demons don’t all have to be bad, you know.”

Stan frowned. “Bad is exactly what demons are! You’re trying to hurt Ford!”

“I’m not trying to hurt him!” The demon pulled a hand to what could be its chest, lashes fluttering. “Stanford and I were old friends you know, before he betrayed me. He had the nerve to call me useless, you know. I’m sure you know how that feels.”

“Wha-”

Bill zipped forward to sling an arm around Stan’s shoulders, making him jump. “But you see, I’m actually pretty powerful! Enough to grant wishes, even. Not that Ford cares – he’s selfish, Stan. He’ll use you up until he has what he wants and then he’ll kick you to the curb, all in the name of ‘science’. No one knows that better than you and me.” Bill snapped his fingers. “Oh, I have an idea! Why don’t you make a deal with me? I could make all your dreams come true if you just ask!”

The demon spun away and extended an arm.

“So kid, waddya say?” Stan goggled at the cartoonish black hand stretched out towards him. Bill grinned a salesman’s grin – or as close to one as a triangle with no mouth and only one facial feature could.

“Ford said you trick people.” Stan protested, and Bill shrugged.

“Eh, nothing against old six-fingers, it’s just business. Or it was. See, that was before I knew we could join forces and both get what we want! Picture this, Staneroni – you open the portal and let me into this dimension, I get to start the party, and then I make you a whole new family! I’ll even throw in a Ford 2.0.”

“Uh, what-”

“The brother you’ve always wanted! A Ford that appreciates you, parents that love you, maybe even a promising career in treasure hunting?” Bill swooped down to elbow Stan playfully. “I’m like a genie in a bottle, kid, all you gotta do is let me outta the lamp. Then it’s sunshine and rainbows, or – whatever you fleshbags like. So, have we got a deal or what?”

Stan frowned, rubbing his cold nose. The demon’s words were quick and constant, and rung in his ears, making him dizzy. “What do you want in return?”

“Oh, just a little favour.” Bill seemed to be checking his nails, despite not having nails. “You know that big old machine in your brother’s basement? That’s a portal. Ford decided he didn’t need me anymore so he locked me out of this dimension. All I need is for you to open it so I can come back home!”

“But you’re here right now.” Stan argued. Bill rolled his eye.

“Not really, kid. I can interact with objects and make myself somewhat corporeal, but I don’t have a physical body! I’m weak like this. But if the portal was open and I could come through I would have all my power back! Enough power to give you anything you want.”

Stan’s heart was pounding in his head, making it hard to think. The triangle leaned towards him.

“What do you think, shortstack? I could give you ultimate power. Wanna be president? Or king? Your family would have to love you then! I could give you a new brother, heck, even a whole galaxy all of your own! All you gotta do is open one teensy little portal.”

“STAN!”

#gravity falls #rewind

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tsuki-sennin · 3 years ago

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DePaPre, Episode 9~! I spent all of yesterday recuperating from my Discord incident, so I couldn't make my dinner date with our Cure Pals, but breakfast is hardly a bad thing to share with friends~!

Spoilers, I guess...

-Chururin changing her content around seems pretty simple, but evidently Godatz and the Bundoru Gang .

-"I like the panda :))))"

-"Oh fuck that, noodles are what the people really need~!"

-"Yeah but pandas are epic. They do not post cringe, you will gain subscriber"

-"My family sells ramen for a living, I may have a bias!"

-This is our impasse.

-Wasn't there some other series made by Toei I was liveblogging with demon cults, human experimentation, and the horrific implication of being completely forgotten by one's own family? And another one where one of the heroes let a man die on screen because he hurt his wife?

-Not that I'm absolutely not enjoying this too, I just thought that the sheer contrast was funny. Besides, this is a nice change of pace from all

-"B r e a d"

-"Ah, y'know, I'm more of a makeup gal, last series really fit my tastes~!"

-All of these faces are simply immaculate.

-"OH GOD I NEVER SHUT THE FUCK UP"

-Ran-chan ily

-Whoa, hello, new animation.

-Watching cartoons with a doggo.

-"...do I put too much of my own thoughts out there...?"

-Narcistoru...? Oh, I see they finally cast you, you beautiful hunka man.

-"Did you do the thing yet?"

-Is that a radio?

-Okay bye, Gentle~!

-That's a whole-ass octopus!

-"Champagne Glass~!"

-Don't worry, it's apple juice.

-Daaaaaaamn, I wanna eat some of that too!

-Pam Pam do a peek.

-What kinda sweet filling didja put in there, Ran?

-Oh, that's a good face.

-THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTINGGGGGG

-"...girl, what?"

-"My grandmother once said... Souji, did you forget to pick up Jyuka from class?"

-Kome kome~! Feed her.

-Octopusless balls~!

-Well, they're having a nice time babysitting, at least~!

-Catch the babby.

-Oh yeah, baby. They cry. They get tired.

-Oh my god, they really are dating.

-Like, I was partially kidding about the whole OT3 thing, but they're literally fighting like an old married couple! My fucking god! These bitches gay! Good for them! Good for them.

-Oh my god, are we doin' this again? Noodle Pandas.

-Gentle do a run~!

-Oh, a whole friar~! Or, frier. Friar is very different.

-"We spent way too long animating the Yum-Yum Sequence! You are seeing it in full plenty of times! We got hacked, we waited long enough, you are seeing it!"

-"Hah. I will defeat these kids because they are stupid and I am an epic, genius grown-up!"

-Oh my god, that is solid steel!

-Oh!? Amane Kasai sabotaged herself!

-OHHHHHHHHH HER EYE IS BLUE

-"Different tastes getting along makes miso more flavorful."

-"All girls are equally beautiful" also seems to be a bit of advice these three'd follow to heart, given the content of this episode lol

-The solution has presented itself.

-"Ubaaaaaaaaaaooooooow, my knees!"

-Yui can't really kick a giant block of metal, but she certainly can punch it~!

-Ran-Ran, yasss, slay! Pretty Holic goin' strong.

-Heart Bread~! Damn, that's tasty looking.

-Kome-Kome! She grows!

-She speaks!

-Soon, she'll be able to kill a man with her bare hands.

-"We can communicate now!"

-"Ohhhhh, she's so cute and tol now~!"

-"HOW THE FUCK IS THIS CHILD SO BIG"

-Ahhhh, panda with the noodles~!

-Ah, there it is. I believe that Heart Juicy Mixer thing was among the things that got leaked.

-Looking forward to the next episode~!

#if you receive a little kindness give them a large serving!#delicious party precure #precure #pretty cure #delicious party pretty cure #depapre

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djemsostylist · 3 years ago

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Djem's Legion Thoughts

About three years ago my brother joking suggested I read the Horus Heresy, knowing literally nothing about Warhammer. (Literally nothing. I just thought Space Marines were big dudes in armor and I had never heard of Primarchs and I still know nothing of 40k. Have no idea how the Heresy ends--I'm spoiler free babes.) Anyway, what follows are my feelings on each Legion at the following times:

As of midway through Fulgrim

At the end of First Heretic

At the start of the Master of Mankind

Halfway through the Siege

This is very long. I'm not sorry.

Dark Angels

idk I haven’t met them yet, but their name tells me they are either going to be amazing or fucking awful

Um I still dk

God I fucking love these stupid idiots. Like, they are stupid, for sure, but I dunno, I dig their bizarre sort of pseudosecrecy thing. Plus, aesthetically I’m all about weird monk orders. Also, nothing kills me quite like Farith Redloss having anxiety attacks over trying to figure out Lion.

Corswain showing up like the living embodiment of the dude with the pizza where the apartment is on fire is just so deeply on brand for these chucklefucks like, Lion is all “I’m deeply uncomfortable where Imperial Secundus is concerned so instead I’ll just go ahead and attack home planets because that will demoralize the traitors and then I’m Doing My Part” like fam, pretty much all the traitors sans Perturabo are actual literal demons rn and they all had zero qualms betraying their immediate brothers and also the emperor (and Perturabo already fucked over his own) why in the livid fuck would you think this is in any way helpful, but this is Classic Lion and I love him now on account of that one time when he hugged Roboute because he was proud of him and also because he calls all of his sons “Little Brother” bc he is afraid of being a dad and also because I too am deeply avoidant of issues I don’t want to deal with.

Emperor's Children

mostly wonderful, because they are fabulous and also extremely extra, but they have the most ginourmous fuckwad as a Lord Commander, BUT they have a very good boy as another one, so idk really. Plus the whole betrayal thing and the fucking lodges, but they are purple and fabulous, so, +1?

These are the saddest boys ever in the whole world, and they didn’t deserve what happened to them. I loved them all except for Eidolon and they didn’t deserve anything bad to happen to them ever bc they were precious and I loved them. Also Fabius because he was bugnuts and he hurt my boys.

Jesus, I’m so fucking over them all

Honestly I’m so tired

Iron Warriors

I totally confused them with the Iron Hands. Idk even, boring? But Perturabo (while he has a fucking terrible name) also hates Horus so +15

I still know nothing about them, but I think they are buttholes because of the whole Isstvan V thing. Dick move guys, dick move.

I literally can’t. Like, their entire shtick is besieging and being besieged, and then being pissy bc it is what they are good at???? Like, they are literally traitoring bc their dad got a hair up his ass bc he wasn’t a good independent thinker and didn’t think he was allowed to build castles or whatever? Idk they are exhausting except for the ones that aren’t

I still don’t really get them at all except like 99% of them who aren’t named Barabas Dantioch are asshats and are not independent thinkers who are literally still traitoring for reasons unknown except to stick it to the emperor like?? Get an actual culture??? Just literally stop???

White Scars

I dunno, haven’t met them, but since no one else talks about them, I’m gonna guess, boring?

I dunno but they are worried about them hooking up with the Rout so I guess they are cool?

Oh bless your tiny little souls. They are so sweet, and so, so dumb. But sweet.

They are very, very good boys. They don’t have a ton of range per say but their simplicity is sort of the point I think. They are what space marines are supposed to be, and I love them for that

Space Wolves

ehm, oh, I’m sorry, The Rout. Whateverthefuck, they’re boring, over-the-top fuckheads who are giant fucking hypocrites who suck and probably don’t ever shower. Honestly, they rival the Emperor’s Children in extraness, and not in the loveable way. Fucking awful, 0/10.

Okay, honestly, not as awful as some. I mean, hella extra and I hate what they did at Prospero, but in a world full of awful things, we gotta pick and choose.

They are just so, so...Space Wolfy. Bless them they try, and some of them legit crack me up. I’m just not about their aesthetic, you know?

Much like the other fuckups amongst the Loyalists, they are a blunt instrument used for a specific purpose and do better with like...direct instruction. I’m saying they are not the kind to do well with metaphor and also a lack of like, a dad. They need TE:BBA is what I’m saying.

Imperial Fists

Literally only met them briefly, but they seem a good sort. I like their Primarch? -3 tho cause damn that color scheme.

Still good boys.

Omg I love you all, you precious little bbs. They are just so calm and stoic and honestly even though yellow is a hideous color they are literally like Templars and that is fantastic?????

Listen, the amount of love that I have in my heart for these precious, perfect boys is rivaled only by my love for Rogal Dorn, who might possibly be, and I don’t wanna sound dramatic here, be the love of my life but anyway.

Night Lords

idk but their name sounds sick.

Right, these guys are also dicks. I hate them on principle.

Every time I think of them all I can think of is that one video of the goths dancing under the bridge. They are so. Fucking. Extra. Christ alive, get a hobby that isn’t fucking skinning people.

Yeah idk they still mostly suck and to be perfectly honest I’m still not entirely sure what their point was, even pre-heresy? Like what role did psychopaths play in TE:BBA’s plan for a glorious human empire, someone explain

Blood Angels

I dunno cause I’ve only ever met their First Captain (who was consorting with fuckheads) but Sanguinius is literally Top Tier Fabulous, like Prince Extra, so I hope they don’t let me down

I’m still holding out hope. Don’t let me down boys.

OH. MY. GOD. Honestly, kill me, I love them so, so, so, so, so much, it’s a lot. And I suspect something terrible will happen with them but I don’t care because they are perfect. All of them. Wonderful, perfect, lovely, caring boys who love their dad and I love them. Sweet, loving, precious little bbs who occasionally suffer from tragic vampiric tendencies but I don’t love them any less. They better stay perfect forever. If I could, I would be like Sangy and just take them all everywhere with me so that they could always be safe <3 On a less gushy note, I think one of the most important aspects of the Blood Angels (and of their primarch) is that while they acknowledge their differences from unmodified humans, they also love humanity, deeply. They see them as worth fighting for and protecting, and acknowledge that their abilities allow them to create a universe that is safe for the common man to live in. There is a sort of profound love and tenderness that they have for humanity, and I think it really does make a difference in their legion. (That scene is Master of Mankind with the Blood Angel and the Custodian really highlights what I’m saying here.)

Listen, this may sound dramatic, and I don’t wanna like, go over the top, but I would literally die for them, which would seem counterproductive since that is what they do for humanity but the amount of love of I have for this entire legion and one Angel is too big to contain in my heart okay

Iron Hands

I don’t know them well yet, but they seem like good boys overall. I’m sure one of them is bound to be a crazy fucker tho.

They are good boys. I don’t know them very well, but my favorite moment is when Ferrus had to thank Lorgar for his help so he made him a crozius and then threw it at him because he didn’t want to have to talk awkwardly.

Poor sad bbs

No, but really, poor sad bbs

World Eaters

literally terrible people, but I guess when your Dad is bugnuts….

Definitely should have been put down. As in to death. They should have been killed. Probably.

Still fucking crazy. But I love Kharn, and honestly Lotara (who I know isn’t technically a World Eater but close enough.)

No but they probably should have all been just euthanized? I mean not Kharn bc I love him but also like--they are not viable. Long term? Tbh still not entirely sure what TE:BBA’s plan was here with them and Angron (I’m gonna assume something along the lines of ignore it and hope it goes away, since that is mostly his plan for everything)

Ultramarines

probably enormous squares, but tbh in a galaxy with World Eaters and the Rout, we could do with some squares.

Honestly, I have no issues with them. They do their duty, they are loyal. I hope to love them though. They actually believe in colors.

HOLY FUCK DO I LOVE THEM. ALL 200,000 OF THEM. (Which is probably what Roboute thinks tbh.) Like, I literally haven’t met a single one that I don’t adore and love with my whole soul and entire being. They are precious, soft, beautiful bbs who I adore with my whole heart. And who will make great leaders of the world someday I’m so proud. On a less gushy note, much like the Blood Angels, the Ultramarines really have a sort of profound feeling of protection and duty towards humans. They may not always like dealing with them, but Roboute is of the firm belief that they must understand what they are truly fighting for. Saving humanity is not enough, you have to fight for the humans who live there. (See, the one short story where they find a baby and I died.)

No but what you don’t quite get is that I literally love them. Every single individual solitary one of them, and while some may say “But Djem such a thing is impossible you haven’t met every Ultramarine” I need you to understand that the depth of my love for them and their Primarch is such that I know, in my bones, that I don’t need to meet them all to love them okay bc I already do.

Death Guard

Okay, so honestly I wanted to hate them (because BETRAYAL) but tbh its only the First and Second Captains who suck a lot and idk really the rest are sort of tragically precious??

Seriously, what is Mortarion’s issue?

No, seriously, what the fuck is their problem? Get the fuck over it.

Okay, I do feel bad. For Mortarian. Of all the traitors, him I understand the most. However, that being said, while I can understand his issues, I feel like giving yourself over to demons, turning into actual demons, and also turning on and killing your brothers who refused to become said demons makes you terrible awful people who really need to like, die.

Thousand Sons

okay, I fucking love these lame Warrior Monk Priest Wizards who live in a literal glass city with restaurants and teach random people Tai Chi in the park or whatever. Overall 10/10

I am v. worried that they are going to do something dumb like join the rebellion in order to affect change from the inside and then like, adopt demons or something. Pls don’t be dumb boys.

I don’t even fucking--look, I’m just tired okay?

What the fuck Azhek. No seriously, ⅞ is good enough? What the fuck is wrong with you?

Sons of Horus? Luna Wolves? who the fuck knows

my precious sons. You did not deserve what was done to you. This is why we don’t do frats. I believed in you and you failed me. D:

I love my precious sons. The Sons of Horus however, can go die.

I just--why are you the way you are?

I think the best thing about these absolute morons is that half the legion isn’t even demon fuckers, they just woke up one day and Horus told them to kill their brothers and they went “sure okay” and then just did. They are so fucking pretentious and stupid, fucking speartip, honestly die. I take it back. You all deserved exactly what you got, you dumb fucks.

Word Bearers

look, I haven’t met the rest of these dudes yet, but Erebus is a terrible fucking ambassador. -60/10 for not controlling their boy

HOLY LORD. I cannot--there are not actually words to describe how much I loathe these ignorant dumbasses. Like, seriously. Honestly, the ones who were purged were probably lucky, because the rest of them fucking suck.

God, eat a fucking landmine. Except, that would probably turn them on or something. Fucking assholes.

Just--imagine being such a fuckup that even when you were the first to the “become a demon, save the world” thing you still somehow ended up last. I hope the Ultramarines put down every. Single. One.

Salamanders

idk but this name is dumb. Salamanders are cute and slimy, and while Astartes are fucking adorable, they are not slimy. -1 for the dumb name

They are loyal, which is cool, and they seem like chill bros.

I just, like, they are sweet, but good lord are they simple.

I’m not sure? What they are doing? With their lives? Guys, idk if anyone told you but like, um. There is a war. And I get they’ve had it rough but also the loyalists could use their hope so maybe, idk. Do something? I mean I know there are like, 50 of you left and also you think your dad is dad and I feel you but like-

Raven Guard

idk but I like Ravens and Black, plus their Primarch’s name is Corvus? 11/10 they better not suck.

OMG I love Corvus?? Flies with a giant jetpack and tried to gut Lorgar? Yeah, he’s wonderful. Plus, their Captain seemed cool before he was fucking murdered.

I love them all, bless. They are sweet and simple and kind of stupid, but they make me feel things in my heart, so like, idk, stay precious.

Look, I cried over Branne fucking Nev, I don’t wanna talk about it rn

Alpha Legion

seriously? Lame.

Fuck these guys. What is their deal?

I can’t even really. I really, truly can’t. Nothing has ever satisfied me the way I was satisfied when Alpharius literally lost his head. God, that was beautiful.

Or Omegon? It was actually Omegon? I don’t even know anymore man

10 notes · View notes

softy-b · 4 years ago

Text

The making of new friends.

On your way home you run into people.

Pirate People.

Oh no.

—

A fanfiction that highlights the crew a little. Eustass Kidd x Reader if you squint, maybe the beginning of something. Watch these hooligans tear themselves a way into your heart.

It’s getting dark out, the wind was howling and you were pretty sure it was raining gently. Not actually rain but this weird sheet of wetness that pulled through the air as if it was to remind you that it was cold outside. All in all it was a pretty spooky looking night and you did not appreciate that, even though you were currently sitting inside a building.

That would be because you could not sleep in here. These were your evening classes you undertook to become a nurse. You had lacked the proper degree to give it a shot so now you had to take these extra classes alongside the actual ones to keep up with the others. At least you weren’t the only one.

There were other people in the classroom, staring with a tired intensity at the chalkboard. All of you were exhausted but had the motivation and determination to get this shitty degree to continue onwards in your career. You knew because coming here at this ungodly hour was not something people who didn’t feel like it did.

Everyone here was very serious about graduating, thus, evening classes. But man, the poor teacher. The old, round man with a moustache longer than his arms was currently talking about the pro’s and con’s to vaccine’s, about how the pros outweigh the cons by a very long mile, but he was clearly tired too. It’s not like you could blame him. What time was it, almost 10 pm. Your class ended in a bit.

Even though your thirst for knowledge was endless when it came to this sort of thing, your body needed to rest. Sleep was a curse.. and yet a curse you loved to live. Sleeping was probably one of your most favorite things to do.. if only you could mix it with something productive and you’d never get up from bed unless you had to.

Talking about sleep wasn’t helping, or thinking of it even. Your eyes drooped a little and you had to force your entire body to stiffen and cramp up to wake up a little again to pay attention to the teacher and his ramblings. He’s wrapping the topic up and people all around the room were giving off a collective aura of relief.

You? You wanted to be happy and somewhere you were happy for finally getting to go home but there was the fucking problem. You’d have to go through the forest near the pier to make it home. The.. fucking.. dark and creepy forest. Euuughhh.. You wiggle about a little on your chair just thinking about that horror story about to become reality.

You had evening classes three times a week, monday, thursday and friday so this wasn’t a new occurrence you suddenly had to deal with, you had to deal with it three times a week after all but somehow it never got easier and made your stomach clench so hard you were sure you could make diamonds with the pressure.

You had a flashlight in your bag, pepper spray, a pocket knife and your stuff you needed for school. You liked to say you were well equipped in case a wild animal tried to turn you into a midnight snack. You refused to go out like that. Stupid bears could munch some tree bark!

You combed with your fingers through your h/colored hair absentmindedly, thinking how you needed to take a shower once you got home. You think about you home, it was a nice spot, even if a bit isolated and creepy at night. It was just a normal sized cabin that had belonged to your parents after all.

They have passed away by now, both due to unforeseen health issues but the memories didn’t hurt so much anymore. It’s been years since then. At first you had thought about giving the house away, feeling not very safe all alone, out of sight from the city.. but then you kept it because it was your parents.

They build the damn thing and everything, you couldn’t just give it away. So you tried to get used to it. Kind of did over the years. The dark still scared you severely but now you could stand your ground and check if there really was someone in the living room or if you’ve been hearing the house doing it’s creaking noises.

It’s not like it was extremely big. There were three levels, the upper one, the ground one and the basement. The upper level consisted of four rooms and a bathroom, the ground level had a bathroom, a living room and a kitchen and the basement was a singular storage room.

It was kind of a hassle keeping everything clean, seeing how you were usually busy studying so cleaning was just a bit of a thing you did not wanna waste your time with.. but you had to. Once every week. A full wipedown to make sure there was not a loading of dust ready to pop out spiders.

It’s not like it mattered, seeing how you lived alone, had no pets and usually didn’t get visitors. You had some pals, here and there but they were mostly school friends. You guys didn’t hang out outside of classes and were just hooliganing it whenever you were together. You look up and see lightning in the distance, making a face.

It’s gonna storm and you’d rather make it home before the rain turned from a drizzle into an actual issue because you did not take an umbrella with you, the weather had looked fine when you left for school after all so you did not think too hard on the matter. Now it was a fact you regretted greatly, as you did not wish to be soaked while the wind was howling.

Then again, the wind would probably just blow the umbrella away. So maybe a raincoat would be better.. which you did not bring either. Damn it.

“Alright!” You blink at the teacher, smiling a bit to yourself as you watched him clap into his meaty paws. “That would be all for today! Please stay safe going home and until monday!” Right. It was Friday. The only plus side you had right now was that you could sleep in tomorrow.

People are shuffling to get up, put their stuff into their bags, chatter among each other about what they’d be doing on the weekend but it was pretty much just polite talk. At this point everyone wanted to go home and either sleep or go and party. The teacher sat down at his desk, supervising the people leaving.

You don’t waste your time staring around much longer, grabbing your stuff and shoving it into your bag, pulling out your flashlight and pepper spray, letting the pepper spray slip into the back of your pants. You fistbump gently to hype yourself and march to the door. “Miss L/N, ready for war as usual I see.”

You halt, looking at your teacher and smiling shyly, a little embarrassed that he saw that. “Ah, yeah. Can never be too careful these days!” The old man nodded, petting his moustache and giving you a kind smile that made wrinkles all over his face. You like him. He reminds you of a grandpa you never had. “Right so! Please do take extra caution going home.”

You give a nod and wave to him. “I will! Thank you and you too!” On the way out you ignore the feeling of dread settling within the confines of your body. Hnnhgf.. God this was just horrible on so many levels. You’re about to fricking piss yourself just wondering what creepy crawlers would await you tonight.

If you got lucky, maybe you’d see a hedgehog.. Something told you that you were not going to be getting much luck. The bad weather would probably make them hide in their burrows and what not to not get totally soaked. Like you were going to be if you didn’t hurry up already!

Once outside, you take in the town square that presented itself in front of you. The street lamps were lighting up the place but that was only within the town itself, sadly, the path leading to your home was left completely dark and empty. You swallow thickly at the thought and begin to walk.

Most stores were closed up by now, only a bar here or there still open, the noise of people laughing and singing filling the air. This was a happy place, usually. The people were nice to each other and often willing to help someone in a tough spot. You’re reminded of when your parents died and you were left alone.

Everyone had put some work into helping you support yourself. You’ve been fifteen at the time and since this was a small town there was no such thing as an orphanage. People kept coming by, giving you money and food and other stuff you needed to live until you managed to graduate.

You got a paid scholarship for the nursing job, which you were thankful for. You were still getting support from a lot of people, they were happy to help out until you could afford your own living. It was kind of something your parents left behind, didn’t they? Everyone had loved them. You being their kid probably made a lot of people feel responsible.

Maybe a bit shady but you would not fight their kindness. It was a gift from your parents, at least that is how you saw it.

Your footsteps carry you throughout the empty, dark streets, closer and closer to the forest. Once the treetops come into view you feel your heart sink all the way into your butt and hide there. ..You want to wait in a hotel or something but that’d be an expense you couldn’t afford. Hhff You’re so fucking scared.

There’s thunder rolling above you, a fat drop of rain landing right on your nose. Ah, snails and nails. Damnit! You pick up your pace as the sound of the wind howling got louder, the rustling of the trees shaking the giant branches, making it look like demons were growing out of them.

You do not like the look of it.. not like it would change anything, you still had to go home at some point and rather now than later because the rain was picking up now that it really got going. Your walk to your house is maybe ten minutes if you hurry so you tried and take comfort in that.

You do not wish to jog though, worrying about attracting the attention of an animal or whatever else was creeping around in that fucking forest. You remember you saw a boar there once. During this time of year they had babies and got even more aggressive than usually. Hnnghff.. it was tough to get around them once they blocked the path.

One time you had to climb a tree to hide from them after they hunted you for what felt like five minutes through this shitty fucking forest. Eugh..

You reach the edge of the woods and step onto the path that had formed over time from people walking along here. It made you feel only worse thinking about the next ten minutes of cold, wet horror. You’re tense, listening as you quietly sneaked along the middle of the path, unwilling to get too close to the bushes or trees lest something might grab and drag you in.

You could hear the ocean from here, the waves splashing aggressively against the stones that were poking out from under the surface. God, the water probably looked like a black nightmare of horror right now. Eugh, the thought of drowning in that mess was another nightmare of yours.

You didn’t like the ocean that much, seeing how you were not exactly a strong swimmer. You learned how to do it once and then after that you’ve been so often in deep waters you could count the events off on one hand not even using all your fingers. You’d definitely drown.

“-can you stop fucking pushing?!” You flinch and automatically click the light off from your flashlight. The thing was loud and the ‘click’ echoed almost in your brain, clearly signalizing.. surprisingly you didn’t get noticed apparently though. But those were the voices of people. Men, to be specific.

“I’m not pushing shit, you prick! Stop stepping on my toes. Can someone just try and relight a fucking torch this is ridiculous!” Travelers? You duck down as your eyes slowly started getting used to the dark. “Trying. No use. They’re soaked.” Yeah.. with the rain, no doubt. God, they’re so close to your home too.

Should you chance it and try and sneak past or maybe run back..? You didn’t really know the answer to that kind of question, you’re too worried that these might be robbers or whatever. Maybe bandits. Those were common since you guys were connected to the main lands which were full of mountains and what not.

“Boss- Boss your arm is slamming right into my side.” “Then fucking move!” You heard a loud crunching noise and then yelling and cursing as something whizzed past your head, gracing your hair actually and slamming right into the ground behind you. You’re frozen.. carefully turning your head and stare at the scythe lodged into the ground.

“Kidd, what the fuck?! Throw your own, goddamn weapons!” Oh god, was he coming closer? “Where did it even go? I can’t see it anymore.” Oh god, he was coming closer! You scramble to the side and press into one of the bushes to hide in it, ignoring the fact that there might be bugs.

They had weapons, they were definitely bandits and you were officially super scared, grabbing your pepper spray tightly and pressing it into your chest. You could probably make an escape if you ducked deeper into the forest and away from the path. You’d have to circle back and go back to town to tell the police department about this though.

Heavy footsteps walked past your hiding spot and you squinted your eyes with no luck. There was no way you’d be able to actually see anyone in this darkness. The trees were blocking out the little light from the moon that did make it past the clouds. It was basically pitch black..

You crawl backwards and through the bush quietly, trying to ignore the fact that these men were really fucking close and could probably see you if they had nightvision. Please, just let luck be on your side right no-ough!

You get a foot right into your side, but not because someone kicked you. “Ah- FUCK!” You hear someone cursing above you right before a heavy body fell right over you. You can’t help but shriek in panic and bolt forward, trying to scramble away. “Who the hell was that?!” Oh shit.

“Wasn’t me- sounded like a broad.” “A woman, here? I’m sure.” “Are you deaf? Of fucking course that was a woman! Someone fucking grab her!” There’s a few choruses of ‘yeah boss’ or ‘got it’ or, your personal favorite, ‘okie dokie’. The rest goes to chaos.

You heard footsteps everywhere now and you’re pressing against a tree to try and stay out of reach. You had to climb- climb! You turn around and begin to hamper your way upwards, only to feel a hand on your ankle. “Gotcha.” The angry growl of whoever had you made you tense your body as you got jerked downwards.

Your fingers dig into the bark and you kick out with your free leg, hitting someone in the shoulder but it only resulted in them catching that foot too and pulling down. Your grip slips and you slap like a wet piece of meat onto the muddy ground. “Ah! Stop- Get the fuck off of me!”

It’s no use. You’re overpowered pretty quickly and you felt the man lean over you, his breath on your face. He was probably trying to see you but good luck in this darkness. But you had the upper hand now. You reached out, grabbed blindly around and actually got the man by a well defined chin.

Then, with knowing where his chin was, you aimed your pepper spray where you assumed the rest of his face was and hit it. “Shit-“ You’re let go as the dude jerked back and yelled something in rage, you roll away just in time to not lose your head. You heard the ground crack underneath his boot. “You fucking cunt! Get the hell back here!”

Oh hell no. You don’t answer and just run into a random direction as chaos exploded behind you. You felt like something was right on your heels and you barely manage around a tree you felt with your hands, since you were running with your arms in front to not hit your face, when you felt the whole tree shake with the impact. Oh fuuuck!

You flick your flashlight on because you needed to be able to see to be able to get away and you realize in horror you were running towards your home. Oh god- they’d see where you lived. Your thoughts are cut short, you slip and land in the mud. Gross. But then there are broad hands onto your arms, pulling you up. “No! Don’t kill me! I just wanna go home- Oh my god get off you’re wet!” The man sounding behind you had a deep baritone, suddenly he was holding your flashlight, shining it into your eyes. “Everything is wet. It’s raining.”

You’re dragged back by your left arm, fighting all the way until you were jerked forward and almost hit the chest of another man, staring up and not seeing anything until the blonde shined the light right at his buddy. Your blood runs cold.

It’s Eustass ‘Captain’ Kidd. The captain of the Kidd Pirates. Oh.. god.. His eyes were red and clearly strained, he’s drenched otherwise. Suddenly your life flashes past you as you stared at the man. You shot pepper spray into his eyes and now he was going to kill you.

“..You little bitch..” He growled lowly and grabbed you by your hair. “The hell was that about? You wanna fight?” Don’t say yes- you didn’t wanna fight this man. “N-No..” You swallow thickly again and just let him jerk you around a little bit until he was interrupted by one of his men.

“Boss. We’re freezing our nuts off out here. Can we find shelter first?” Yeah, you do not doubt that for even a second, it was very cold out here. But. Opportunity came knocking just at that sentence. “We can make a deal!” You feel eyes burning in your general direction. The dude who had caught you grunted. “A deal.”

It’s a question to elaborate. You talk quickly. “I live in a cabin not far from here! I’ll give you shelter and food and in return you won’t kill me or the townspeople?” It came out more like a question. “Hell no.” Oh god. The redhead was jerking your head around again as if he was going to break you neck- You felt the man behind you let you go and then Eustass Kidd got a flat palm to his face.

“We’re taking this, Kidd. I’m not sleeping in a puddle tonight.” The dude grumbled and handed you your flashlight. “Lead us there.” He sighed, forcing his partner to let you go, to which you stumbled pathetically before almost kissing the ground beneath you. “Killer, what the hell?! I said no!” You heard the men start to argue behind you but you’re too focused on your luck.

Oh thank fucking god they took that offer. “I’m not repeating myself.” Killer grunted, following you closely as you picked up your pace a little to get out of the rain faster. People were shuffling and bumping into each other behind you, talking about various topics you could hardly understand from the front.

Killer and Kidd were just arguing all out in the open now, almost at each other’s throat as they were shouldering each other with their massive bodies from time to time as if to make a point. “We’re not sleeping in the middle of the rain just because you need to let your ego out.” The blonde growled at his captain, shoving at him when Kidd gave him a pinch slap in the side.

“I’m the fucking captain, what I say should fucking go-“ “Cry me a river.” You’re surprised, honestly.

You thought for sure that they would be on the same page of murdering people, seeing how high their bounties were and everything.. but that wasn’t the case. They.. reminded you of an old, married couple. Bickering and yapping at each other like it was going out of style.

They were clearly comfortable with one another, they kept barking like dogs but underneath it was a layer of stubborn affection one would miss if you didn’t look for it. It.. surprised you was a bit of an understatement. Your home finally comes into view and you pray to every high entity that you would please, not die tonight.

“Just.. a moment please.” You mutter and unlock the front door, barely making it in and turning the light on and then suddenly you’re being overrun. You shriek as huge bodies forced their way into your home and you hit the ground, getting stepped on in the process. The weight squeezes all of your air straight out of you and the only saving grace you had was someone dragging you backwards by your ankle and then lifting you by your shoulder.

“I’m herding fucking cats..” It’s the Massacre Soldier. The man put you back onto your wobbly legs and waited until the rest had filed in until he closed your front door. You need to sit down a little. Taking in what the fuck was even going on an this point. Your gaze drifted around, spotting the awkward tension.

The dudes were soaked. Just as soaked as you were. Some were pulling their shirts off to dry off quicker, some just complained about it. Eustass Kidd looked like a poodle that went into a bath, his fur coat not nearly as impressive while it was sticking to his body as if it was a second skin he needed to shed. The man threw the thing over your couch, possibly ruining it in the process. What a fucking asshole.

“Found the food!” Oh great. They broke into your basement where you stashed all the preservable food and some meat. It had been a habit to stash this stuff in case people stopped helping you out. Now those pirates were cleaning out your basement..

Well, better your basement than your corpse, you suppose.

You were sitting on the staircase, just pressing against the railing to be out of the way was the men were making themselves comfortable in your home, so you didn’t notice it at first but then there was a huge man that reminded you of a zombie standing right in front of you. “Uh.” He sounds so awkard.

“Thanks for letting us in here.” Your mouth almost dropped open at the fact that you got thanked by a pirate. You swallow thickly. Technically.. you should be the one thanking them. They could have just killed you, taken the keys to your house and let themselves in. You suppose none of them came to that conclusion at the moment.

“No problem.. just.. please try to not break anything..” You get a thumbs up from the blue haired male before he sauntered off, probably to also eat. They were bringing everything to the living room and you’re already missing the blanket of security the food’s existence had given you. You’re going to have to start all over again, don’t you?

The idea of it doesn’t really irk you but some things can’t be changed with willpower alone.. like how they were currently tearing your curtains apart to use them as towels. You stared at the mess and just put your face into your hands.. Oh my god. This was just.. asking to escalate. Maybe you should slip out while they were eating.

You wonder if that was a smart move, seeing how armed they were and how fast the blonde dude was even in the rain. He’d definitely catch you before you had the chance to reach the town to warn everyone.. “Here.” You look up. It’s another dude you didn’t know. Orange Iro Haircut and black glasses. He’s holding a bottle of wine at you.

“We’re already taking all your shit, you’re gonna need this tonight.” You grab the bottle and pop the cork out after a bit of thinking, making a face at him. “Gee.. thanks..” You mumble and lower your voice. “How generous, you assclown.” His eyebrows went up all the way.

Then, before you could panic, he broke into laughter and slapped his knee. “Ah shit! First you spray the fucking captain and now you’re throwing insults! You have no bone in your body that wants to live, do you?” That was a very casual statement to make that sounded way too much like a threat.

“Lay the fuck off. She got lucky.” The dude turned and snickered at the oncoming figure, that you, to your dismay, recognized as Eustass Kidd who was currently rolling his shoulders and combing through his hair with his organic arm. The metal one loose at his side. His eyes looked better but he still seemed pissed.

“Give me that-“ He snatched the bottle out of your hand after shoving past his crewmate, proceeding to down the whole thing while establishing angry eye contact with you and just confusing the hell out of you. What.. Nani the fuck? Was this.. was he trying to establish dominance or something?

Suddenly you felt like a dog that was about to get a smackdown with a bunch of newspapers. “Boss, I just gave her that.” The mohawk cut murred and crossed his arms, giving his boss a blank stare before looking at you. “I’ll get you a new one.” How kind. But now he was leaving you alone with his shitty captain. Who still seemed angry.

He threw the bottle onto the floor, where it shattered and the pieces went flying everywhere. Oh god. Weirdly enough, he does not kill you immediately, just giving you an evil glare and leaning in, making you lean back. “..Scuse me. Please, personal space.” The space where his eyebrow would be twitched.

“The hell are you mouthing off for?” He’s looking for a fight, you faintly realize. The dude was probably agitated from getting pepper sprayed and was not looking for an excuse to go against what his blonde buddy had told him. Which would be to leave you be and not go ham on your home.

“..Sorry.” You grit out, now pressing fully against the stairs to stay the hell away but fuck, he just leaned in closer. By now the man was towering over you with his huge form, basically blanketing you completely as he continued to glare at you. He’s clearly trying to get you to shove him or something.

Fuck iiiit. You do not move and you hear absentmindedly the laughter of the other crew members. You can feel the dude’s breath on your face and it smelled like the wine that he just exed like a drunkard. Breath somewhere else! You felt like this were dangerous waters. If you didn’t watch out, he’d grab you and drown you… as in he’d beat the hell out of you.

“Say it again. Beg me to forgive you.” Oh fuck this guy. You can see a sadistic glimmer in his eyes as he grinned like a bastard at you. Something within you told you that no, you were not going to be begging this piece of shit for anything. Say something though, anything really. “..Your eyes remind me of gold coins..”

You were a fucking idiot.

The man recoiled from you and looked at you as if you were insane. Seeing what you just said, you might as well be. Both of you are staring at each other, ignoring the commotion that was going on around you from people drinking cheap juice and eating up your supply stash. Ah fuck.

The man stared onwards and then he actually let go of the railing from the stairs and stood back up to his full height, narrowing his eyes at you as if he was trying to analyze whether you were real or not. You felt unreal too, not gonna lie. “You think flattery is going to keep me from tearing you apart?”

Not what you were trying to do. His eyes were just so amber and cold, it reminded you of a cold, golden coin. No warmth there to be found except for now, but it was the heat that anger brought. “I was..” You cough awkwardly and just avert your gaze. “Sorry.” It’s not like you could explain your reasoning without making even more of an idiot out of yourself.

The man scoffed in disdain and, miraculously, he left you where you were sitting and to your own devices. His body easily parting the sea of men that was getting rowdy with each other. You’re kind of sweating just thinking about all the cleaning you’d be forced to do once they left.. on your own.

If you made it through the night. Who knew when one of them thought they could grope you or whatever and then? Then you could not guarantee for them to not get shoved. You wouldn’t actively dare to hit someone. Not right now where you were surrounded by pirates.

“What the fuck, girl.” Your solitude does not last you long, unfortunately. You’re faced with two men you do not, obviously, recognize. “You can’t tell me you only have this wine.” One of the scoffed at you and you just made a face. “..Sorry. I don’t really drink alcohol.” You were apologizing a lot today for no reason, weren’t you?

You’re being crowded, you faintly notice. First it was two, now it was four. “No booze for you? Are you.. like.. allergic?” There’s a collective groan going through them. “Idiot, she has wine, she’s not allergic to alcohol.”

“Seriously.”

“Getting smarter everytime we hit land, aren’t you?”

Now they were bickering among each other, throwing insults and shouldering people before settling again as you became the central point of their attention. The hell was with them? You felt like you were surrounded by a group of curious puppies.. Noo wrong example, try a bunch of pushy goblins.

“I just don’t like it.” You shrug, only getting deadpan stares. “So you’re like, all proper and shit?” The dude talking to you stuck his pinky out and some were jeering and laughing at the gesture. You resist the dying urge to roll your eyes. “Nahh.. Not really. I just, like, don’t enjoy hangovers.”

That seemed to be some common ground because the men were collectively groaning in agreement and nodding their heads like they were students and you were the teacher. “Oh yeah, those can suck my huge di-“

“No one would want to touch your baby carrot.” “Yeah, you’d have to pick a prostitute and pay her extra.” There they go, jeering and laughing again at the expense of one of their buddies.

“Shut your fucking mouths!” Now they’re back to bickering and shouldering at each other. You were so out of place right now. The railing creaked a little and you looked up to see a huge man.

And if you say huge, you mean fucking hugelicious. That dude was at least two heads taller than his captain, currently sporting a yellow cloak and black trident, his clothes, the little bit he was wearing, were also colored yellow and the dude just gave you a deadpan stare. “I see you found out what quality company we can be.”

“As high quality as my huge-“

“Shut up! You need to stop trying to sell that everytime we’re around a fucking woman!”

“It’s getting embarrassing.”

“Ridiculous-“

“Fuck you guys!”

The bickering was arting out a little. Now there were actual punches going around and you shriek and dodge a body hitting the stairs, scrambling up and out of reach as the guys that had been talking to you were getting into a semi friendly brawl. Semi friendly because no one was sporting any weapons. Until someone took a plate with potato puree and threw the damn thing from the living room.

It hits the man with the cloak, who’s eye twitched and he spun around. “You little shits!” Oh hell. This was escalating so fucking fast- Now there’s food going everywhere and not just food. There goes your wardrobe. Just flying away and kissing the world goodbye. You could hear that the brawling was slowly spreading from the living room and hallway to every other part of the house.

Not good. With a despairing inner mind you watch them tear your home apart as they went at each other like wild animals, throwing shit around as if it belonged to them, throwing each other around? You saw the Massacre Soldier walking through the mess, people avoiding him like a plague as he made his way to the stairs and came up until he could sit down next to you.

“THE HELL?! GET THE FUCK BACK HERE!” That was Eustass- a huge part of your wall actually bent suddenly before metal strings you didn’t even know where in there tore out and started wrapping people up like gifts. Now it’s raining into your kitchen. You grit your teeth..

“Sorry about that.” You didn’t expect anyone to give you an apology, so when the blonde man next to you did, it startled you into looking at him. “I’ll give you some money when we depart to help cover the expense as a sign of gratitude.” You do not know still why they are grateful. They could have easily taken this place by force..

You do not mention it.

“The house was old anyway..” You mutter to yourself, staring at the hole with a blank expression. Mom, Dad, please forgive this. You’re sure they’d be able to ignore this wreckage if only you’d be able to live another day. Oh god- there are gunshots coming from somewhere and the men were now jeering and yelling loudly.

“Y-You..” You halt and collect yourself a little, swallowing thickly. “You guys sure are lively.” You mutter and watch as Eustass tore through some people, having two by the necks and then throwing them at the dude with the blue hair, who dodged both bodies and kicked a chair at his captain, who got hit and yelled angrily.

Yet, among all the anger and aggression that everyone seemed to excel, no one was getting mauled to death. But there were loud gunshots and clear carnage going on around you and it was hard to think that no one in the town would notice them destroying your house.

They were loud. Extremely loud. The walk took ten minutes because you were a slow walker so there was no doubt that at least some of the people living at the edge of the forest would catch wind of this, despite the rain and wind. These weapons were loud. “Still, having your home destroyed by pirates..” The blonde hummed, putting his chin against the palm of his hand.

“..has gotta suck.” You grit your teeth. Because he was right. This fucking sucked and you wanted for them to go and take a fucking hike. Still.. People were laughing and screaming and oddly, it made you feel a bit better about this whole mess. As if this could be something you’d be able to look back on fondly in years to come.

Once they fucked off and all. So you and the massive man just sat next to each other, staring at the chaos below you in silence as you wondered if the police would come to check out the commotion. Hopefully. You did not want to get shot tonight.

As if on cue there was a row of gunshots sounding out. “Hank got shot!” You heard someone yell. “Doc! Doc get over here!” “Fuckers- I told you not to shoot these fucking-“ It’s drowned out by the noise of splat as a wet rag hit you right in the side of the face. You blink and cringe in disgust, slapping it away and robbing a bit further up the stairs.

Killer was following you with his face, tilting his head a little and letting his shoulders shake a little as if he was amused.

“Scared of water? That’s-“ And then slap, his whole mask is wrapped up in a towel and the dude froze in his spot. You glance behind him and see Eustass laughing his ass off, almost crumbling from the strain as he just shit himself over having hit his first mate with a wet rag.. That seemed really tame, seeing how the dude threw his men around like ragdolls otherwise.

“Fucker..” Killer hissed between, apparently, clenched teeth and pulled the rag off his head, getting up and then jumping over the railing like a lion on the hunt, tackling the redhead to the floor and getting into a grapple with the other man. God above, they’re aggressive. It was like violence was a turn on for these people.

And then suddenly there was the huge dude from earlier at the bottom of the stairs, heaving and covered in sauces and what not.. was that blood? He was clearly looking around for something he could be throwing right now and then his gaze landed on you. ..He’s grinning at you.. Oh.

Oh hell fucking no-

You shriek and try to dodge the large hand grabbing you by your ankle and yanking you down. “Scuse me.” He grabbed you under your back and butt, lifting you easily over his head. “Boss!” “No- Stop!” Both Killer and Eustass looked up and you could see their body posture tense comically at spotting what was about to be thrown at them.

Killer got onto his knees and Eustass’s eyes looked like they were about to pop from his skull, so wide he had them.

And then you’re flying and screaming your head off. It doesn’t take a second before you’re colliding with two warm, broad bodies and all three of you are send rolling around on the floor like toddlers. Eustass yelling and Killer cursing his head off- someone had his hand on your fucking chest and you slap out of instinct, hitting the material of the blonde’s mask.

“Ah, shit. Sorry-“ The dude actually seemed somewhat embarrassed at having grabbed you by accident but then you two are slammed down when Eustass used both of you as leverage to propel himself up. “You want my foot up your ass?!” He yelled at his companion, who flipped him off and just laughed out loud.

“Oh you little fucking-“ He cut up, jerking his head around and looking through the hole in your wall. The blonde groaned, sitting up and rubbing his neck but noticing the demeanor of his captain. “Kidd?” At first you didn’t hear it but now that you tried to listen closely, you did. There were voices.

It’s the fucking popo. You knew they’d notice the fucking ruckus if it went on long enough. “Twelve men coming over here. Guess we’re going to be killing townspeople after all-“ “No!”

Eustass had been in the progress of getting up but you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck to try and jerk him back down again. “You promised! You gave me your word!” You point accusingly at Killer who seemed completely unbothered at how upset you were, yet, he did speak.

“I did kind of agree to her terms.” He supplied, looking up at Kidd, who was now trying to get you off of him by shouldering you roughly with his metal arm which, honestly, felt like you were being rammed by a bicycle. “I didn’t agree to shit.” “You ate her food and broke her home down.”

“You say that as if we don’t do that shit on a regular basis.” You remember something. ‘Beg me.’ To be specific. “Please! Whatever you want, just don’t hurt them!” Eustass’s head jerked down and his eyes bore into you. Killer put his face in his hands. There’s a moment of silence.

“..Fucking fine.” You’re surprised how easy that was, all until he grabbed you around the waist and lifted you over his shoulder. “Men! We’re fucking off! Gather at the ship!” You heard someone complain. “The ship is a day’s trip away though!” So that’s why they were here, to scout? .. No it didn’t make sense. You’re too confused to think about it.

“What are you doing, Kidd?” Killer grumbled, poking you in the cheek and making you stare at him like a frightened lamb. “Taking a souvenir.” The redhead grunted and then squeezed your waist a little. The blonde crossed his arms and huffed. “..Alright then.”

“What?! No! I don’t wanna go! I wanna live!” You shriek and struggle against the man’s grip, hearing a faint, familiar voice of a police officer you knew. “MISS L/N?” Oh god. “We’re not killing you, calm your tits.” And then the redhead turned around and bolted straight through one of your walls, busting it open like he was a jackhammer.

His men were hollering and laughing still as they scattered into the night. You’re wet again, the rain falling against your body as you were carried off. It felt like your life, the way you had known it, was over. You don’t know what to feel about it right now, it was too much all at once.

You did not know this at the time, but today would be the start of a life you never knew had been an option, or a life you never knew you needed.

A new adventure.

#One Piece #Killer #Eustass Kid #Eustass Kidd #eustasscaptainkid #Wire #HEat

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