#totally fandom-blind capable
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Ok don't side eye me but I'm reading this blind. I am one of those people who have basically seen NOTHING. Film critics always cross the street when I'm coming... My sincere condolences on your loss by the way 💚. This is exactly how my childhood cat died, in my arms. She was in so much pain, sometimes she bit my petting hand, but then she licked it in apology, before she passed. I hope this (writing the story) was cathartic for you!
Yesss, Gravity Falls! We are a Gravity Falls household.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Colin said quietly as he handed you some ibuprofen and water, anticipating your needs before you even thought of it.
So, I love this because I've only seen gifs of Colin, haven't seen the source material, but also saw him described as a man-whore. IDK why but I love when the intro to a character is like, the reverse? Instead of him being talked up as so great and then being seen in a single stressful bad moment, this is like, the total opposite. Watch out he's a skirt chaser! BUT OH he is caretaking.
Girl.
GIRL.
Did this character let Colin play with her pussy on the DAY THEY MET? AND he can't stand there to be a kitty that doesn't like him???? Lmao this is stupendous.
Yess all the MCU references. You KNOW you're tired if you aren't able to stay awake watching Matt get whumped.
I really love that you LET them fight, have a disagreement, that he didn't push it at a time when she would have said more hurtful things she'd regret later. That honestly shows Colin's character just as much as all the other things he's done in the story so far.
FUCK I love that he was in the hallway behind her seeing her face as she said those things. VERY nice.
As you melted into his touch, you felt his hands move lower until your ass was placed perfectly in his grasp.
“And there he is, there’s the Colin I know,” you said, laughter bubbling up as you smacked his hands away. He looked at you, that sexy sideways smirk on his face.
Yesss, it's the gif! Clever.
Totally readable despite not having all the context! Thanks for suggesting I check out this one first!
Tired of the Temporary
Summary: You lost your beloved cat, Mavis. Your gorgeous neighbor is there to comfort you, and although you adore him, you don’t want to be another notch. Is he tired of temporary?
Colin Shea x Reader (You)
Word Count: 5,973
A/N: As always, thank you so much to @peyton-warren who always cheers me on. I was blocked by my own grief, hopefully this will allow me to continue on.
This is purely a comfort piece for me as I just lost my sweet cat unexpectedly. Colin is one of my comfort characters, so I hope anyone else who needs comfort can find it here 💙
Warnings: Pet death, euthanasia, angst-so much angst, Fluffy ending
It had all happened so fast. You’d just woken up, your sweet cat curled up next to you. She chuffed when you moved, irritated at the interruption to her beauty sleep. Mavis stood up and stretched, her two front paws stretched out in front of her, her back end in the air, yawning wide before she jumped off the bed.
You threw your covers back and made your way to the bathroom, then into the kitchen to feed Mavis who was already standing and meowing at the cabinet where you stored her food. She sat down, looking at you expectantly, and you were pretty sure if she could talk, you’d be getting an earful. You stopped to pat her head, always loving her purr while eating.
You made your way back to the bathroom to shower and get your morning started. This was your one day off this week and you’d made plans to hang out with Colin, your very handsome man whore of a neighbor. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have feelings for him, the two of you spending more and more time together, but you were also wary. You’d seen the revolving door of women, you didn’t want to be just another one night stand, so you kept your feelings to yourself and your heart out of reach.
You’d just turned off the water, your thoughts running through your mental checklist as you got dressed when you heard Mavis yowl. You quickly threw on your hoodie and jeans, running out to the living room. Your heart dropped when you saw her, unable to stand no matter how hard she tried, her cries alerting you to her excruciating pain.
“Mavis?!” you yelled, dropping to your knees next to her, checking for any obvious signs of trauma or injury. When you got to her hind legs, you immediately noticed the limpness, the temperature cooler than the rest of her body. You knew what this was, she’d thrown a clot called a Saddle Thrombosis, a fancy way of saying a clot that paralyzes.
Time was of the essence, you knew as you scooped her up carefully, cradling her in your arms as you whispered she would be okay. Thankfully you didn’t live too far from the veterinary clinic you worked at, a five minute drive at the most, even shorter as you ran red lights. You pulled to a screeching stop, barely shutting your door as you ran into the clinic, Mavis having gone frightfully still.
You ran past the reception area directly into the back treatment room, calling for the doctor. You placed Mavis on the treatment table and moved to grab the emergency supply kit when the doctor came in, followed by the other two veterinary techs on duty. You pulled out the supplies to place an IV catheter, tearing the tape as you went.
“What happened?” Doctor Yang said as she made her way to the treatment table, gently pulling you back and out of the way so she and the techs could work. You explained everything to her, not even realizing you had started crying until you felt a tear hit your hand, a prequel to the tornado about to rip your world apart.
“I need you to go to a room and let us work,” Yang said gently as she palpated Mavis’ spine to evaluate where she was hurting and where the paralysis began. You knew she was right, you were too close to this, there was nothing you could do while you were blinded by your emotions. You silently left the treatment area and made your way to the waiting room.
After what felt like an eternity, Dr. Yang made her way to the waiting room, her face somber, a face you’d seen many times, the face she made when she had to deliver a terminal diagnosis or heartbreaking news. Yang had gotten only as far as apologizing before you dropped to your knees. You heard a keen wail, not realizing you were hearing yourself.
“I’m so sorry, she isn’t going to make it. You know I will do whatever you want, but you know the odds of her surviving after throwing a clot this large are very slim,” Yang said. “I need to know what you want to do here. If you want us to try, I need to get back there now.” Yang gently squeezed your shoulder, bringing you back to reality. As you stared into her face, looking for any direction, you knew what you needed to do. You told Yang your decision, compassion crossing the woman’s face.
You were led to the euthanasia room to wait for Mavis, your final goodby looming over the horizon. You’d thought about this day for so long, wondering how you would feel, how much it would hurt, wondering if you’d ever be able to love another cat the way you loved her. The door opened as Dr. Yang entered with the two other techs in tow, and the receptionist.
“We closed the clinic,” the receptionist, Julia, told you as her eyes filled with tears. “You need friends, and we need to say goodbye too. We all love Mavis so much.” Everyone nodded in agreement as the new tech, you weren’t too sure of her name, placed Mavis in your lap, wrapped in a warm blanket.
“We already gave her the pre med in the back,” Yang said softly as she flushed the IV with saline. You cried harder, kissing Mavis on the head and telling her over and over how much you loved her, how it was okay for her to go, how you would never forget her while the doc administered the medication to stop the heart. You cried harder, your sobs eching through the room, Yang nodding to confirm she was gone.
Everyone in the room was sobbing, and slowly one by one, they all left until it was just you. You kept holding Mavis, telling her how good she was, telling her over and over how much you loved her. After about an hour, you pushed the button to alert the front desk that you were done and they could come and take Mavis.
You weren’t sure how you made it home, the drive was a blur and done completely by muscle memory. You couldn’t stop crying, your eyes expressing a sorrow you’d never felt before, a piece of your soul ripped from your existence. You weren’t sure how you managed to get into your apartment, your tears streaming endlessly. You kicked off your shoes, not even bothering to change, and went straight to your bed to lay down, pulling your duvet over your head. Your tears dampened your pillow, catching every moment of sorrow.
You weren’t sure when you fell asleep or what woke you up, however you looked around confused wondering if it was all a horrible nightmare. You sat up and looked around, calling for Mavis with all of the hope you could muster, collapsing back into your grief at the realization you wouldn’t be waking up from this nightmare.
You slid even further down your bed, pulling your covers over your head as you sobbed, your heart shattered.
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Mavis and you had found each other at very difficult times, you having just lost your mother, Mavis having lost hers also. You’d heard the tiny cries, following the sound to a tiny kitten, hungry and scared.
You took her with you, with the intention of taking her to a shelter as you weren’t sure you had the emotional capacity to care for another living creature, but you’d have to take care of her over the long weekend. You put your tiny friend in your purse, got back into your car to get some supplies.
You stocked up on wet food and kitten milk as she couldn’t have been older than three weeks, along with a litter box, and lots of toys. You heard the tiny cries as you made your way home, and held her as you set up her little spot with a heating pad, litterbox, toys, and blankets. You tried to put her down to make her a bottle, her tiny cries breaking your heart.
After she had her bottle and you did the dirty job of helping her use the bathroom, you put her down on the heating pad and covered her with blankets, moving to your bed, exhausted but sure you wouldn’t sleep. You’d buried your mother today, and now here you were, taking care of a baby kitten, a baby kitten who wouldn’t stop crying.
“Alright, alright little one,” you cooed as you made your way over to her, too exhausted to listen to her cry all night. You scooped her up, wrapped her in two blankets to maintain her body heat, and moved her to the bed with you. You placed her on your chest, her tiny purrs immediately relaxing you. You smiled as you felt her tiny paws making biscuits in the blankets, her purrs getting louder.
“So, you’re stuck with me for a few days,” you told her softly, her purrs seeming to grow in response. “What should we call you? Kitten? Cat? Little one?” You felt her climb up your chest, curling up in your neck under your hair. You pulled the blanket up to cover her, pulling out your phone to find a movie as you felt her breath even out, her purrs slowing.
You decided on a show you had just recently found, Gravity Falls, a supernatural cartoon you wish you’d had growing up. As the twins, Mabel and Dipper popped up, the name came to you, a name you’d always loved: Mavis.
“What do you think, Mavis? Is that your name?” you asked the tiny creature, a tiny chirp followed by a yawn your answer. Mavis it was then. You fell asleep like this, Mavis curled up, in your neck, your phone on your face still playing. It had been days since you last slept, but tonight, you found a comfort you never thought you’d experience again.
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The next time you opened your eyes, you heard the TV in your living room playing softly, the scent of your favorite food flooding your senses. You sat up, your head throbbing from the crying, your eyes puffy and sore, and stretched, wrapped your blanket around you and made your way to the living room.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Colin said quietly as he handed you some ibuprofen and water, anticipating your needs before you even thought of it. You gratefully took the medicine, gulping down the water in just a few swallows, not realizing how thirsty you were.
You looked at Colin, his eyes filled with concern and sorrow, and you knew he found out. “Who told you?” you asked, your voice raspy and raw from sobbing as you felt the tears well up again. The last thing you wanted to do was have this gorgeous man look at you the way he was now; you hated anyone seeing you emotional, never wanting to seem weak. With Colin, you didn’t want to stop the thing before it even started.
“I stopped by the clinic to grab Mavis some of her favorite treats and Janice told me,” he said softly as he dropped down next to you on the couch, his arm instantly around your shoulder pulling you to rest your head on his chest, his other arm around you playing with your hair as he whispered softly to you that it was okay, to let it out, and that he wasn’t going anywhere.
As the tears started to slow, you lifted your head and saw Colin shedding tears of his own. You reached up to his face, wiped his tears away, and gently kissed his cheek as the two of you sat quietly in your grief.
“I remember the first time I met her, she was so cranky and mean," Colin said, his hand still softly playing with your hair as his other hand moved soothingly up and down your arm. You chuckled softly as you recalled that day also, your first glimpse of a very naked Colin, heading by your door as you brought some more boxes in from downstairs.
Colin stopped and smiled, covering the good parts with a dish towel while he ate an apple. “Hey, you must be new!” Colin said, pulling the towel up to wipe the corner of his mouth. "I’m Colin, I live right across from you-oh shit.” Colin opened your door and dashed in as you watched with your mouth open.
“Hey!” you yelled as you dropped the box and moved to open your door just as your naked neighbor’s front door opened with an equally naked woman standing in the doorway. You closed your mouth which was catching flies at all of the porn you’d managed to see in the last ten minutes, trying to look everywhere except this woman’s perfect tits. God damn, how was it fair to even look like that? You suddenly felt very self conscious as you stood there in a baggy t-shirt and shorts covered in cat hair, your hair in a messy pile on your head.
“Oh hey,” the woman said as she stood with everything out, very comfortable with her body. You’d kill to look like this woman, but right now, you’d settle for a bra and some shorts. “Have you seen a guy, I think his name is Coleman, Callum, no that’s not right either. Oh! COLIN! That’s his name. Have you seen Colin anywhere?”
“Can’t say that I have, sorry,” you mumbled as you turned and made your way to the front door. You heard the supermodel grumble and retreat back inside. You cleared your throat and balanced the box the best you could while trying to turn the door knob, cursing the rudeness of your uninvited guest, no matter how tight his ass was.
“Whoa, whoa,” you heard Colin say as you heard Mavis hissing at him. “Good cat, kitty, kitten, whatever you prefer, I’m not going to hurt you,” Colin said softly from the corner, the towel covering his dangly bits from your fierce, tiny cat. You watched with amusement as Mavis swatted at the bottom of the towel, growling and hissing again. “Little help?” you heard from a distressed Colin, the entire scene causing you to erupt in laughter.
You walked over to your girl, scooped her up, her body instantly relaxing at your touch. Her purr revved up as you pet her head, telling her she was the absolute best guard cat in the world. You heard Colin grumble and grouse from your couch, finally free to move about. You reminded him of the tiny fact that he had broken into your house, and Mavis was free to protect her territory.
“So…” you awkwardly began, trying to avert your gaze and look at anything besides his bottom half, a slight heat creeping up the back of your neck. “Do you like cheese?” you asked, mentally kicking yourself as soon as the words left your mouth. You were so shy and introverted, small talk was hard for you.
You both heard the door across the hall open and close as Colin’s guest yelled a not so nice goodbye as she left. Colin stood, thanking you for letting him hide, never answering what his favorite cheese was, and made his way across the hall. You went back to unpacking, chastising yourself as you worked, reminding yourself that this is why you didn’t have many friends.
A sudden knock on your door caused you to jump as you were lost in your thoughts, and you were surprised to see Colin standing there with more boxes. You opened the door to let him in, thanking him but reminding him he didn’t need to do this if he had other plans.
“It’s no trouble. It’s my day off and I am going to make friends with your psycho demon cat if it takes all year,” he said, holding out his hand to pet Mavis as she made her way into the living room and sat at your feet. She lulled him in with a false sense of security, hissing and swiping at his hand at the very last second, then cleaning the paw that had touched the offensive object while Colin cursed under his breath. You laughed and handed him a paper towel, your laugh bubbling to the surface of your shy demeanor.
“You don’t know much about cats, do ya?” you chided as you moved to the box of Mavis’ things and grabbed out her favorite catnip treats and toy mouse, and handed them to Colin. “Here, hold this out and let her come to you. Let her sniff you and get used to your scent. Once she accepts you and the treat, go ahead and hand her her favorite toy.”
Colin did exactly as you said, smiling like a little boy on Christmas when Mavis finally ate the treat out of his hand and took her mouse. She played on the floor a little bit defore laying on her back and offering her belly to Colin. Before you could warn him about the belly trap, Mavis grabbed onto his arm with all four paws, bunny kicking his arm with her two back feet, and holding his hand hostage with her front paws while she bit him playfully, not hard enough to break skin.
You laughed at his face of surprise, then laughter as he played with your grumpy little lady. Unbeknownst to you or Mavis, Colin Shea found you fascinating, something he had never felt before, preferring to keep everything casual because it was easier. But at that moment, Colin Shea knew he was in trouble and his life wouldn’t be the same, scared this would destroy him in the end.
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“She wanted to eat you,” you said through your laughter as you moved your head off of Colin’s chest to look up at him, finding his eyes already on yours, his shoulders shaking with laughter at the memory. “Then when she tricked you into thinking you could pat her belly.”
Your laughter stopped as your body was wracked with sobs. “I failed her, I didn’t do enough, I didn’t get her there fast enough,” you said, finally vocalizing your grief, your guilt, your anger. “I should have had them try, I killed her. How could I miss what was happening?” you continued, your breaths becoming shallow as you found it harder and harder to breathe, the oxygen thick with your sorrow.
“Mavis loved you, she knows how much you loved her. You gave her everything.” Colin held you as you cried, trying to soothe your broken heart and soul. “She knew you would have done anything to save her, but she also trusted you to make the most difficult decision if you couldn’t.” Colin let you cry, rocking you back and forth comforting you the best he could.
As you calmed and your tears started to dry, you heard your stomach growl, the smell of your favorite food wafting into the living room. Colin laughed, and you grumbled as you chastised your stomach for embarrassing you.
Colin stood to grab plates for you both, leaving you on the couch, already missing his warmth as you wrapped your blanket tighter around you. You asked how he knew what your favorite food was, completely shocked at his answer.
“You told me last month We were up on the roof, you’d had a bad day, so we set up the inflatable sumo suits and drank between rounds.” Colin said as if his remembering anything you’d said to him was an everyday occurrence. You’d never had anyone really listen to you, no one ever cared enough to listen.
“You remember that?” you asked as you took a bite of the plate Colin set in front of you, your hunger taking over as you realized you hadn’t eaten since yesterday. Colin looked over at you, then back at the television, trying to find something for the two of you to watch.
“Of course I do, I remember everything we talk about.” Colin settled on DareDevil, a show you’d recently started watching together as you introduced him to the MCU. He continued staring at the screen, pretending he didn’t see the soft smile that crossed your face as you continued eating. Once you’d finished, you leaned your head on Colin’s shoulder, and before you knew it, you’d fallen asleep.
Colin looked down, pushing a piece of hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear, and kissed you softly on the forehead. You smiled and sighed, snuggling even deeper into Colin’s arms, his head resting on yours as he made sure you were covered, falling asleep quickly.
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You opened your eyes, confused for a moment as you weren’t in your bedroom. You felt movement behind you, forgetting that Colin had come over last night. You screamed, falling on the floor when Colin moved his hand around your waist to pull you in closer.
“What the hell?” Colin said as he sat up quickly, sleep written all over his face as he stared at you on the floor. “Are you okay?” he asked, slightly confused as he helped you off the ground. You hopped up, your face and neck hot with embarrassment as you sat back down on the couch, unable to meet Colin’s gaze.
“I’m, I’m fine. So-sorry. I forgot where I was for a second and when you moved you scared me, and I guess I fell….and now I’m rambling.” You shook your head as Colin laughed, completely humiliated by your reaction. Had it really been that long since you’d felt someone touch you? And if you were being utterly honest with yourself, you liked the way Colin felt. His touch made you feel safe enough to cry, to fall asleep, to just be yourself.
“Hey, it’s okay. You fell asleep right after we started the show, not even Matt Murdock could keep you awake.” Colin stood and stretched, turned to use your bathroom, and you couldn’t help yourself, your gaze landing on his perfect ass, one of your favorite sights.
You shook your head, trying to tell yourself Colin didn’t like you in that way, not the way you cared for him. He was your friend, he was there for you during hard times, but you knew his feelings about commitment, you were witness to his many different women. That’s why you kept your distance.
You started some breakfast, eggs, bacon, and toast, for the two of you. You didn’t have work today, your boss had given you the rest of the week and weekend off so you could mourn in private. Colin made his way in, coming behind you to steal a piece of bacon you’d just grabbed.
“Hey! Jerk. I made you some right here!” you grumbled, slapping Colin on the chest as you made your way to the living room with both plates. “Can you grab the hot sauce, utensils, and juice please?” you asked, as you grabbed the remote to start your show all over again.
Colin set all of the requested items down before you had even started the show, having grabbed everything and followed right behind you. Damn it, if he could just let someone stay more than one night, he’d be such a good boyfriend, you thought.
“You’re staring again,” Colin said, his eyes never leaving the screen as Matt and Foggy flashed into view. You dropped your eyes, mortified he had caught you. Again. You were thinking of some reason to have been caught when you heard your phone ringing in the bedroom.
You ran to answer it, tears forming by the end of your conversation. It was your boss calling to let you know Mavis had been a special cat, so she was sent for cremation and was back at the clinic for you to pick up. You thanked your boss, telling her you’d be there to get her shortly. You were so lost in your tears, you hadn’t heard Colin come in and sit beside you on the bed. You immediately leaned in, seeking the warmth and comfort of his embrace and let your tears go.
Colin offered to drive you to the veterinary hospital, which you gratefully accepted. The ride was quiet, and before you knew it, you were parked in front. Colin asked if you wanted him to go in with you, but you declined knowing this was something you needed to do on your own.
You came back to the car a few minutes later, a small urn clutched tightly to your chest, your sobs wracking your entire body. You felt Colin’s hand on your thigh as you drove back, but you were so lost in your head. You weren’t even aware of pulling into the parking lot or even making your way upstairs.
You laid down in bed, Mavis on the nightstand, and pulled the blankets over your head again, your place to hide from the world. You fell into a restless sleep, your dreams plagued with guilt over Mavis and your inability to save her. You woke from a particularly rough nightmare, and threw your blankets off, feeling suffocated under the weight of your feelings.
You dropped to the floor, panting with sweat running down your face mixed with your tears. You heard your door open, but didn’t register Colin was there until he made you look at him to regulate your breathing. Colin was trying to ground you as you were in the middle of an anxiety attack. The ringing in your ears finally softened to a dull noise, your tears finally slowed, and your breathing was back to normal, your breaths in and out matching Colin.
“There you go, that’s it. Keep doing that.” Colin moved beside you, his arm around your shoulder as he kissed your forehead so softly you weren’t even sure you had felt it. Once you’d finally calmed down, you allowed Colin to put you back into bed. He covered you up, then moved to lay behind you as you fell back asleep, safe and warm in his arms.
You woke up to find your bed empty and cold, Colin no longer behind you. You stood up and made your way to the bathroom, stepping into a hot shower and brushing your teeth. Once you finally felt a little human again, you dressed and made your way out to the living room.
You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but you found yourself disappointed when Colin was nowhere to be found. Not that you could blame him, though. You’d broken down in front of him more than once, and if he wasn’t completely sure he wasn’t the commitment type, you would definitely be the one to prove his point.
You grabbed some water and ibuprofen and made your way back to your room. You gulped down the glass along with three pills when you noticed it. The urn was gone. You dropped your glass, not caring when it shattered beneath your feet. You looked all over, only stopping when you heard your front door open.
“Hey, what are you doing awake?” Colin asked as he made his way into your room, takeout bags in his hand. He made his way next to you, stopping when he saw the broken glass on the floor. “Shit, don’t move, let me clean this up.” Colin left, returning with a broom and dustpan.
“Mavis, I can’t find Mavis,” you said as you looked around your room and on the nightstand again. “I know I left her here, I was asleep, you were here and then you weren’t…” you mumbled, rambling as you tried to think of anywhere the urn could have gone.
“I’m sorry about leaving like that, I had something I wanted to surprise you with,” Colin said as he continued sweeping the shards of glass. “I grabbed Mavis, I wanted to sur…”
“Why the hell would you take her?” you yelled, anger rushing over every fiber of your being at what you’d just heard. “You had absolutely no right!”
Colin stopped, startled at the sudden rage in your voice. “I didn’t mean any harm, I wanted to…” You stopped him, fury taking over every rational part of your demeanor.
“You had no right to take her while I was sleeping. What were you thinking? How on earth did you assume this would be a good idea? Just when I start letting my guard down around you, just when I think you’re someone I could absolutely let in, you go and do something like this. Get out.”
“Just let me show you what I am doing,” Colin said as he pulled his phone out to show you something. “You’re going to love it, and I promise to bring Mavis back when I’m done.”
“Just get the fuck out. I don’t want to see it, I don’t want to see you! You betrayed my trust, took the one thing that matters to me right now.” You turned and locked yourself in your bathroom, collapsing onto the floor. Your heart shattered even more, knowing Colin hadn’t meant any harm, yet you unleashed all of your anger and sorrow onto him, keeping him at arm's length.
You waited in the bathroom, eventually falling asleep on the floor, waking only when your back and legs started to cramp up. You stood and moved to your bed, covering your face and head again, not wanting to see the empty nightstand. You also missed the warmth behind you, the strong arms that held you while you cried, but it was better this way.
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You spent the rest of your time off in bed, only leaving it to use the bathroom. You’d been awakened by knocking on your door the first couple of days, but you didn’t answer, choosing to hide away. Eventually the knocking stopped, and you weren’t sure if you were relieved or sad.
Monday came around too quickly, but you forced yourself up and made your way to the bathroom. You showered and dressed, unsure how you were going to make it through this day, but knowing you couldn’t hide any longer.
Your day was a blur, full of routine and muscle memory. You smiled when you had to, laughed when it was expected, and left looking cheerful and happy. You weren’t but you definitely faked it until you made it.
You pulled into your parking spot at home, sitting in your car for a few minutes to let the weight of the day fall away from you, exhausted and emotionally drained. You made your way inside and up the stairs where you saw a small package in front of your door. You stopped as you saw the small urn next to it, and dropped down to get a better look.
The urn was Mavis, and it had a small nameplate and picture of her added to the urn. Next you opened the small box, finding a beautiful necklace which looked like the cosmos swirled with the brightest strip of stars ever seen. You pulled the chain out to get a closer look when you saw the small insert in familiar handwriting.
This is a small charm made from some of Mavis’ ashes, this way you always have her with you. I”m sorry I broke your trust or hurt you, that wasn’t my intent. I just wanted you to have a piece of her always. -Colin
You hung your head in shame, fully realizing just how awful you had been to this man, this man who just wanted to make you happy. You took a deep breath and swallowed your pride as you made your way over to Colin’s door and knocked.
“Colin?” you called, waiting a few seconds before knocking again. “Colin, I know I was horrible to you, please open the door?” You waited again, sighing as you started to turn away before stopping. “I need to say this, and I don’t know if I will have the courage again, so please listen. I am so sorry. I was wrong and mean, I took all of my anger and grief out on you, you didn’t deserve it at all. You were nothing but amazing to me, and I am sorry. This is beautiful, but I can’t accept it. I don’t deserve this.”
“Yes you do,” you heard from behind you. You jumped, turning to see Colin leaning against the wall, his hands in his pockets. He smiled his crooked little smirk, the one that always made your heart race, his bright blue eyes focused on you.
“So, did you hear all of that or do I need to start all over again?” you asked, embarrassment creeping up your neck and face. You weren’t good at this, sharing and apologizing, and you were really hoping he’d heard it all.
“I heard it, and you don’t owe me any apologies. I’m sorry I worried you, I’m sorry I hurt you at all. I just wanted to surprise you with something to see that smile I’ve come to adore so much.” You stared at Colin in shock, not quite believing your ears.
“What do you mean? You don’t adore me, you don’t do relationships, remember?” you said, confusion written all over. You wanted this to be true, there is nothing you wanted more but you knew about his liaisons, and you weren’t going to be just another notch.
“I didn’t, but then I met this really quiet and shy neighbor who let me hide out in her apartment the first time I met her, and from there, I stopped being interested in the temporary.” Colin started walking towards you as he continued. “We started spending a lot of time together and I finally realized what I truly wanted. So, the endless parade of women stopped, and I started spending all of my time with her.”
You looked up, trying to remember the last time you’d seen anyone come out of Colin’s apartment, realizing there hadn’t been a woman in months. “You want me?” you asked, waiting to hear him finally say the words.
“I want you,” Colin said as he grabbed your face and pulled you in for a kiss. This was by far the most amazing kiss you’d ever had, his lips soft and sweet, his tongue gentle as he waited for you to allow him access.
You pulled away, the both of you breathless and flushed. “You’re sure this is what you want?” you asked, your uncertainty taking hold as you looked up at this man, the one you’ve wanted for so long.
“I’ve never been so sure about anything before.” He pulled you into his chest, holding you tightly. As you melted into his touch, you felt his hands move lower until your ass was placed perfectly in his grasp.
“And there he is, there’s the Colin I know,” you said, laughter bubbling up as you smacked his hands away. He looked at you, that sexy sideways smirk on his face.
“Hey, this is all just for you now,” he said as he gestured up and down his body. “I never said anything about being chaste, only that you were now the only victim of my hormones.” You laughed and kissed him again, softly and slowly, fully enjoying your new life.
You would swear you saw and heard fireworks if anyone ever asked, but for once, you finally allowed yourself to live in the moment. You weren’t sure if this would last, but if every day with Colin was like they had been, you were damn sure going to try.
#fic reblog#totally fandom-blind capable#anyone who's lost a pet should read this#cathartic and cute and sexy oh my!#colin shea x reader
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Dark Star {Part Five}
18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
Part Five
{Elijah Mikaelson x f!Reader} Elijah’s obsession with resurrecting you drives his family deeper into darkness, where alliances fray and unexpected lives are lost as Bonnie Bennett becomes their reluctant pawn. In the 13th century, love turns to betrayal as your forbidden bond with Elijah transforms under the weight of sin, faith, and the cruelty of vengeance.
8.3k words - Warnings: uhmmmm PAIN, death, destruction, full-throttle red door Elijah, so much angst, more hallucinations, Kol and Rebekah still being the ultimate duo, a tragic brotherly bond, compulsion, murder, MY QUEEN BONNIE BENNET && i'm sorry babes.... this is where it begins to HURT ... xoxo
{Part One}{Part Two}{Part Three}{Part Four}{Part Six}
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13 century Europe
The walk into the forest this time wasn’t filled with excitement and joy; it was heavy with dread. Each step felt like a descent into darkness, a part of you wondering if you would ever leave these woods again. But the pull toward Elijah was stronger than your fear, dragging you forward against your instincts.
Your mind raced, trying to piece together Sister Claire’s death and what it meant for you. You couldn’t believe Elijah would hurt anyone, but something told you that he was connected, somehow, to the terrible fate she had met.
He was too perfect, too healthy, too beautiful. He had led you to sin so quickly… He had to be a demon. There was no other explanation.
A cold wind swept through the trees, and clouds slid over the moon, plunging the forest into near-total darkness. You quickened your pace, as if Elijah’s presence in the clearing ahead could shield you from the shadows pressing in on every side.
Finally, you reached the clearing. A dying fire cast faint embers over Elijah’s dark form as he sat by it, his head bowed, lost in thought. He looked up as you approached, his eyes catching the firelight, flickering with an unreadable intensity.
He stood and moved toward you without a word, the shadows sliding over his face, and your heart pounded with a sudden surge of fear. You took a step back, tripping over a tree root and collapsing onto the damp ground.
“Stay away from me,” you warned, scrambling back, the words barely audible.
Elijah stopped, his gaze softening as he searched your face. “I would never hurt you,” he murmured.
You shook your head, panic bubbling up inside you. “What did you do to Sister Claire? How did she end up dead, her throat torn out?”
His expression twisted with pain. “Do you think me capable of such a thing? After what we shared, after what we promised each other?"
You took a shaky breath, fighting the urge to run. "You have led me into sin, and now a woman is dead," you whispered, tears welling in your eyes.
"I had no hand in her death," Elijah said, his voice firm, but there was a guilty look in his eye.
"But you know who did," you said, the truth dawning on you.
He hesitated, his gaze dropping. “Yes,” he whispered, sorrow clouding his eyes.
Your heart sank, the betrayal burning inside you. He was a demon, a monster. And you had been blind to it.
“You’ve corrupted me,” you murmured, your voice full of anguish.
“No.” He shook his head slowly, earnestly. “I would never. What we share…it is pure.”
A surge of rage welled up, fanned by guilt and shame. “You’re a liar, all demons do is lie,” you spat, tears streaming down your face.
“I would never lay a hand on you. Not in a thousand lifetimes.” Elijah knelt beside you, his hand reaching out to touch your face, and you flinched away.
"Stay away from me," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Stay away from all of us."
You stumbled to your feet and ran, not daring to look back. You had been a fool, blinded by his beauty, seduced into sin. And now, a sister was dead because of it.
Branches scraped your face, roots snagged your feet, but you didn’t stop. The darkness pressed in, thick and suffocating, and each breath burned as you ran through the forest, terror clawing at your chest.
Just as your strength began to fail, you saw a light ahead and stumbled out of the trees onto the convent grounds. Relief flooded you, but before you could catch your breath, something slammed into you, knocking you off your feet.
You hit the ground hard, the impact stealing the air from your lungs. Dizzy, you looked up to find another figure looming over you. It was Klaus... Elijah’s demon brother... grinning down at you, fangs bared, his eyes glinting with malice.
“Hello, love,” he said, his voice a low growl.
“No!” you gasped, scrambling back, but he grabbed you by the hair, dragging you to your feet with ruthless strength.
Without warning, he bit into your neck, and an explosion of pain shot through you, raw and searing. You screamed, clawing at him, but his grip was unyielding, the world spinning as your blood drained away, leaving you cold and weak.
Darkness swallowed you, the last thing you heard was Elijah’s anguished cry, calling his brother’s name.
You felt nothing. You saw nothing, lost in the void. Your last thought was a broken prayer, a plea for forgiveness. And then, warm hands cradled your head, a voice calling you back.
“Elijah?” you murmured, confusion clouding your mind.
“Yes, I’m here,” he soothed, his voice a balm, a lifeline.
There was the sound of an argument nearby, Elijah’s voice rising, but you couldn’t make out the words. Cool liquid touched your lips, the taste of copper filling your mouth. You drank instinctively, the sweetness flooding your senses, warmth returning to your limbs.
Your eyes fluttered open, finding Elijah’s face above you, his expression etched with worry. You reached for him, and he pulled you close, holding you tight.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion.
The memories flooded back. “Klaus…he killed Sister Claire, didn’t he?”
Elijah nodded, his jaw clenched. “I’m afraid so.”
“But why?” you whispered, still reeling.
“It doesn’t matter,” he murmured, regret shadowing his gaze. “Just know, I would never have let him hurt you.”
You clung to him, your mind spinning. He was a demon, dangerous yet the man you loved. The truth settled over you, cold and heavy.
“You really are a demon…” The words were barely a breath.
He met your gaze, pain flickering in his eyes. “Almost.”
Panic rose, and you tried to pull away, but his arms tightened, holding you close.
“Please, don’t be afraid,” he murmured.
“Let me go,” you whispered, fighting the ache in your chest.
Reluctantly, he released you, and you stumbled back, a final look of heartbreak passing between you before you turned and fled toward the convent, tears streaming down your cheeks.
The weight of his existence pressed down on you, a dark and terrible revelation. You loved him... and in that love, you knew you made a terrible mistake.
13 century Europe
You managed to climb back through the window of your bedroom and collapsed onto the cold stone floor, sobbing. The weight of what had happened pressed down on you, heavy and unrelenting, until you felt as though you couldn’t breathe. You lay there, the floor hard against your cheek, tears staining your skin and blood drying on your lips.
You weren’t sure how long you remained like that, lost in despair, until a soft cough broke the silence. You looked up, startled, to see Sister Margaret standing over you, her face shadowed, her expression unreadable.
Realization dawned as you took in your disheveled state. Your habit torn, stained with dirt, your face wet with tears, and the telltale smear of blood on your mouth. Shame burned through you, and you averted your gaze.
“What happened?” she asked gently, kneeling beside you. Her tone was concerned, but there was an edge to it, a hesitation.
You sat up slowly, wiping at your face. “I…I don’t know,” you managed, voice weak.
Sister Margaret’s brow furrowed as she took in your appearance. “You were gone for hours,” she murmured, her tone laced with worry.
“I know,” you whispered, a fresh wave of tears prickling your eyes. You tried to blink them back, but they threatened to spill over.
Her gaze grew sharper, her concern tinged with suspicion. “Is this…is this a result of Lord Mikaelson’s visit?” Her voice held a faint accusation, a disapproving edge.
The shame intensified, and you closed your eyes, feeling a hot flush crawl up your neck. “Yes,” you admitted, barely above a whisper.
She sighed, disappointment heavy in her voice. “I warned you, sister. I told you not to stray from His light.”
You lowered your head, the weight of her words pressing down on you. You knew she was right, but guilt and regret were tangled too deeply for any comfort.
“Come,” she said, reaching for your hand. “We must tell Mother Mathilde.”
“No! Please,” you gasped, clutching her hand as panic flared within you. “I can’t…not after everything that’s happened.”
Sister Margaret hesitated, her eyes searching your face. For a moment, you saw a flicker of sympathy, but it was quickly replaced by duty. “You must confess your sins, sister. It’s the only way.”
“Please, I can’t…I don’t deserve forgiveness,” you choked, the words escaping in a broken sob. “What I’ve done… It’s beyond forgivable.”
“God is merciful,” she replied softly, settling down beside you, her arm wrapping around your trembling shoulders. Her voice was calm, reassuring, and you found yourself clinging to that sliver of hope. “You need to pray, sister. Ask for forgiveness, and it will come.”
“You don’t understand…” you whispered, the shame bubbling up, choking you. “Sister Claire… It’s my fault.”
Sister Margaret stiffened, her arm dropping from your shoulders as she pulled back, shock and confusion flitting across her face. “What…what did you say?”
“It’s my fault,” you repeated, feeling the weight of the confession bearing down on you, pressing into your chest until it hurt.
Her eyes widened, her voice barely a whisper. “What do you mean?”
You swallowed, forcing the words out, even though they tasted bitter. “The demon... Lord Mikaelson- he…he seduced me.” Your voice cracked, and fresh tears streaked down your cheeks, the shame almost unbearable. "If only I had seen sooner..."
Sister Margaret recoiled, her hand pulling away as if you burned her. She stared at you, horror and disbelief etched in her features. “Oh, sister…what have you done?”
You hung your head, guilt washing over you in waves. “I gave my body to a demon. I…I forsook all my vows.”
A long silence stretched between you, broken only by your quiet, hitching breaths. Finally, Sister Margaret drew herself up, her expression hardening. “We have to tell Mother Mathilde.”
“No!” Panic surged within you, and you reached out, grasping her arm. “Please, she can’t know…not after…”
“She needs to know,” Sister Margaret insisted, her voice growing firmer, colder. “This is a grave transgression, sister. The consequences will be severe.”
You looked at her, desperation in your gaze, seeing the resolve in her eyes and the fear. “Please…I’m begging you. Just…just give me time to figure this out.”
She shook her head, sorrow flickering in her expression as she stood up, stepping back from you as if you were a stranger. “I can’t keep this secret for you.” Her voice wavered, but her resolve was unbreakable.
Your heart dropped, and you felt as though the ground had been ripped from under you. The finality of her words settled over you, heavy as stone.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, looking at you one last time before she turned and disappeared down the corridor, leaving you alone with the crushing weight of your sins.
As soon as the sun peeked over the horizon, bathing the convent in a pale glow, you knew it was time to leave. You had packed a small bag, gathering a few meager possessions. A spare habit, some candles, a few coins, and a small silver cross.
The night had passed in a blur of restless sleep and tears, the shame and guilt a constant, relentless torment. Now, as dawn approached, a cold resolve had settled over you. If you didn't run, you would be condemned... purified to death. Sister Margaret would tell Mother Mathilde, and the truth would come out. You couldn't face that. You had to leave, now, while you still could.
You opened the window, glancing down at the courtyard below, a cold breeze sweeping in. The early morning air was sharp and clear, and you breathed it in, steeling yourself.
Slowly, carefully, you slipped through the window, gripping the ledge. You took a deep breath, saying a silent prayer, and began to climb down the rough stone wall.
The convent was quiet, the only sounds were the wind rustling through the trees and the faint chirping of birds. Your hands were numb, fingers cramped, but you gritted your teeth, forcing yourself to keep going.
Just as your foot found purchase on the ledge below, you heard a shout. Startled, you lost your balance, the stone slipping from under your foot.
You fell, hitting the ground with a sickening thud, a searing pain shooting through your body. A scream rose in your throat, but no sound came. The world spun, a blinding light flashing in your eyes.
Hands grabbed you, shaking you, pulling you to your feet. Dizzy, you looked up, blinking, and saw the blurred face of sister Margaret.
"Are you hurt?" she asked, her voice frantic.
You took a breath, forcing the pain aside, and shook your head. "No...I'm fine."
"What were you doing?" she demanded, anger and fear mixing in her voice.
You glanced at her, then away, unable to meet her eyes. "Leaving," you whispered, knowing that the truth would hurt her.
"I was afraid you would say that," she said, a touch of sadness in her voice. "Come,"
"I can't," you pleaded, desperation rising inside you. "Please, just let me go. This is my choice."
"It's not a choice, sister," she replied firmly, gripping your arm and leading you towards the chapel. "You have sinned, and now, you will face the consequences."
She dragged you through the courtyard, ignoring your protests, and you knew it was useless. You had no choice but to accept your fate.
Mother Mathilde was waiting, her expression hard and unforgiving. She stood, towering over you, a figure of unyielding judgment.
"You have betrayed God and your sisters," she began, her voice cold and full of fury. "For that, you must be punished."
Sister Margaret pushed you down onto your knees, the hard floor bruising. You looked up at Mother Mathilde, tears blurring your vision, the weight of her words a heavy burden.
"Please, I.. I didn't mean to..."
"Silence!" she shouted, cutting you off. "Do you think I'm blind to your indiscretions?"
You lowered your head, a quiet sob escaping. "Please, forgive me..."
"Forgiveness is not given freely," she said, her voice hard. "It must be earned. You will atone for your sins through suffering."
Your head snapped up, and you stared at her, fear and desperation coursing through you.
"Take off your habit and robe, you are not deserving of such garments," she commanded, her eyes blazing.
"Please, I can't," you begged, but Sister Margaret tugged the clothing from you, baring your flesh, exposing your shame.
Mother Mathilde leaned down, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at her. "You have brought darkness upon us all, and now, it is time to purge it," she spat, her eyes burning with anger.
Tears streamed down your face, the humiliation and regret a painful reminder of your sins.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, pleading with her, but she turned away, ignoring you. She nodded at sister Margaret, and a heavy metal collar was placed around your neck, the cold bite of iron against your skin.
"Take her outside, to the square," Mother Mathilde instructed, her voice laced with disgust.
You were hauled to your feet, the chain connecting to the collar yanked sharply, forcing you to stumble after sister Margaret. The other nuns followed, their faces shadowed and grim, and you felt the weight of their judgment pressing down on you.
The sun felt too bright, the air too sharp, as you were led into the village center. A crowd was already gathering, word spreading quickly about your punishment. You looked around, desperately searching for a friendly face, but there was no one.
The chain was fastened to a post in the middle of the square, the rough wood rubbing against your skin as sister Margaret secured it tightly.
"Behold!" Mother Mathilde's voice rang out, cutting through the murmur of the crowd. "The wages of sin."
There was a ripple of gasps and murmurs as the people gathered closer, staring at you, their faces twisted with disgust and fear.
"Confess your sins, before I send you to meet the Lord," Mother Mathilde commanded, her voice echoing off the surrounding buildings.
"I...I gave myself to a demon," you stammered, shame washing over you as the words left your lips.
The crowd murmured, a low, angry buzz. You lowered your head, tears stinging your eyes.
"And what did the demon do to you?" Mother Mathilde pressed, her voice filled with malice.
You took a breath, feeling the weight of the chains holding you in place. "He...he seduced me. He used my body for his own pleasure."
"Whore! Harlot!" someone shouted from the crowd, the words a harsh and ugly accusation.
"Speak the name of this demon, this devil among men," Mother Mathilde ordered, her eyes boring into you.
You couldn't bring yourself to speak his name, the shame and guilt too raw and overwhelming. "I can't," you whispered, shaking your head.
"You will," Mother Mathilde insisted, her voice full of rage. "You will name the demon who corrupted you, or I will have your tongue cut out and fed to the pigs."
A wave of nausea rose within you, and you squeezed your eyes shut, willing the world to disappear. But the pressure remained, the iron collar tight around your neck as the crowd was grew louder, their voices raised in anger and fear. You closed your eyes, struggling to breathe as you spoke his name.
"Elijah Mikaelson," you finally whispered, the words barely audible.
The crowd erupted in shocked gasps and cries, a surge of fear and anger rippling through them.
"The Mikaelsons are demons, all of them!" a voice shouted, the words punctuated by a chorus of agreement. "They have brought evil into our midst!"
Mother Mathilde glared at you, her eyes cold and unforgiving. "Then the judgment is clear. For the crime of consorting with demons, and for bringing their curse upon us, you will be cleansed with stone,"
She turned to the crowd, raising her hands in the air. "Let this serve as a lesson to all, that the wages of sin are death!"
The crowd erupted in a frenzy, a storm of angry shouts and jeers. The first blow was from a young boy in the front of the crowd, he picked up a smooth, heavy rock and hurled it, the sharp edge catching your shoulder.
You cried out, stumbling under the force, the pain radiating down your arm. The next blow hit your chest, stealing the air from your lungs. You doubled over, the blows coming faster and faster, each one more brutal than the last.
Your world was reduced to nothing but pain, the rocks slamming into you, the chains holding you in place. You begged, screamed, pleaded, prayed, but the stones kept coming, the blows raining down on you, merciless.
You had abandoned God, and now he was abandoning you.
The rocks kept coming, tearing through your flesh, the blood streaming down your body. Each blow was a cruel and vicious punishment, and the crowd cheered, their voices ringing in your ears.
You fell to the ground, the stones striking you, tearing into you. Your world was a sea of red and pain, a never-ending cycle of suffering. Until the last stone was thrown, by the hand of Mother Mathilde herself.
You felt it strike your temple, the impact sending you spinning into darkness.
As the world slipped away, you had one final thought.
Elijah.
Elijah stood near the entrance of an old church, the crime scene tape fluttering in the wind. It was dark, the moon and stars hidden by the clouds, the air thick with humidity and the smell of death.
His gaze swept over the surrounding area, taking in the tall trees and dense foliage. Everything was eerily quiet, the only sound the rustling of the leaves in the wind.
Klaus was reading the crime scene report out loud, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "... Victim was found hanging upside down from the altar cross, her throat slashed. Blood was used to paint the walls, a message written in Latin."
"A sacrifice," Elijah murmured, his eyes narrowing, his stomach twisting.
"No, just a psycho," Klaus corrected, rolling his eyes. "Apparently the murderer is fond of leaving little notes."
"What did the note say?" Elijah asked, his pulse quickening.
Klaus rattled off the words, frowning as he translated them from Latin. "Lord God Almighty, light and truth, we beseech Thee, that Thou mayest drive away every unclean spirit, every deceitful demon, every foe of our immortal souls. Hallow this place and our hearts with Thy light and strength."
"An exorcism," Elijah muttered, his frown deepening.
Cami cleared her throat, she leaned into Klaus as she glanced at the crime scene report over his shoulder. "That kind of twisted thinking doesn’t come from nowhere. There’s a deep-seated belief system here, maybe even a distorted sense of duty. This is someone who believes they’re acting in service of a higher power."
Elijah clenched his jaw, his eyes burning with anger. "This has nothing to do with my wife,"
"Maybe, maybe not," Cami shrugged, her gaze softening. "But it does point to a connection between her murder and these others. If the killer is targeting women who look like her, we have to consider the possibility."
"No," Elijah hissed, his voice laced with venom. "It doesn't mean anything."
"Brother," Klaus said, his tone careful. "There's a pattern. You can't ignore it,"
"It doesn't matter," Elijah snapped, his voice rising. "We need to find a way to bring her back, that's the priority."
"Guys, down here!" Marcel's voice called out, interrupting the tense moment.
He was crouched on the ground, examining a patch of dirt. A trail of dried blood led towards a stone wall.
Marcel followed it, running his hands over the surface of the wall. There were cracks, and he slipped his fingers inside one, a frown forming on his face.
"There's a door," he murmured, pulling it open, revealing a set of stairs leading down into the darkness.
"A cellar?" Elijah guessed, his brow furrowing.
Marcel nodded, his expression wary, he looked at the others.
"Let's go," Elijah said, a chill running down his spine.
The air smelled musty, stale. It was cool and damp, the shadows clinging to the walls like a blanket.
Elijah stepped inside, the floorboards creaking beneath his weight. He could feel the darkness pressing in, the faint whisper of voices on the wind. Marcel was close behind him, with Klaus protectively hovering beside Cami, keeping her shielded from the unknown.
"This place gives me the creeps," Cami mumbled, shivering.
"Stay close," Klaus muttered, his arm sliding around her shoulders.
They followed the path, the stairs spiraling down into the earth, the air growing more oppressive, the temperature dropping.
After what seemed like an eternity, they reached the bottom. Elijah felt a sense of foreboding, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. He couldn't explain it, but there was a dark energy here, a malevolence that clung to the air.
"I can't see anything," Marcel complained, his tone laced with frustration.
"Hold on," Elijah said, he felt around the walls until he found a torch attached to the stone, pulling it off and striking it against the wall.
A flame sparked to life, illuminating the room.
Elijah raised the torch, his eyes adjusting to the sudden light, his breath catching in his throat.
"What the hell is this?" Marcel whispered, his eyes widening.
The room was littered with long dead candles, moss climbed the walls, and bones were scattered across the floor. Blood was splattered on the walls, dried and brown.
Cami gasped, pressing her face into Klaus' chest, trembling.
Klaus held her close, his jaw clenching, a growl rumbling in his chest.
In the center of the room was a large cross, and upon it was a woman, a dead vampire. Her skin gray and covered in dark veins, her hands and feet nailed to the wood, her eyes wide open, glassy and unseeing.
Elijah's eyes were locked on the corpse, a terrible dread settling in his stomach. He recognized her, a face out of time.
On the floor next to her was another body, a wooden stake driven through her chest. It was clear that it was self inflicted, her hands not far from the weapon.
Your phantom stepped out from behind the cross, and Elijah's eyes widened, his breath hitching.
"Hello, husband," You smiled at him, tilting your head. Dressed in your nun's habit, the very same one you were wearing when he met you, the very same one the vampire corpses were wearing. "Do you remember them? What you made me do to them?"
Elijah shook his head, taking a step back.
"This is all your fault, Eli," you purred, your gaze burning into him.
He swallowed hard, his hands trembling.
"You corrupted me, made me drink their blood, made me crave it," you continued, your smile turning cruel.
"No," he whispered, his voice choked, his heart hammering in his chest.
"Yes," you replied, the word harsh, full of hate.
Klaus frowned, glancing at Elijah, his brow furrowed. He was muttering to himself, his gaze locked on the wall behind the crucified vampire.
"What is it, brother?" Klaus asked, his voice tense.
Elijah didn't respond, he was lost in the nightmare, trapped in the memories.
"Elijah" Klaus called, his concern growing.
Elijah blinked, tearing his gaze away from you, his eyes focusing on his brother.
"C-can you see her?" He asked, his voice strained, a desperate edge to it.
"See who?" Klaus asked, his confusion mounting.
"My wife," he whispered, his throat tight.
"She's not here, brother," Klaus said gently, his eyes full of sadness.
"But-" Elijah started, turning to look at you.
You were gone.
He swallowed hard, blinking rapidly, his eyes stinging.
"There's something written on the wall," Cami pointed out, her voice trembling.
Elijah's gaze shifted to the wall where Cami pointed. In faint, jagged script, words were smeared in dried blood:
'In nomine eius quae nos decepit. In nomine eius quae nos corrupit. Tandem est purgata. Nunc quiescimus, missio sancta completa est. Salutem invenire possimus,'
Elijah felt a weight press down on him, his mind racing to translate the Latin.
'In the name of her who deceived us. In the name of her who corrupted us. She has finally been cleansed. We rest now, the holy mission is complete. May we find salvation,'
The words struck him like a blow, each syllable carrying the weight of a fanatic’s conviction. His eyes darted between the two bodies sprawled on the cold stone floor. Mother Mathilde and Sister Margaret, both transformed into vampires. They had killed you, after all these centuries, they had gotten their revenge.
Elijah felt the world fall out from under him, his knees buckling, his mind reeling.
"You should have left me alone, Eli," your voice echoed in his mind.
"Elijah?" Cami said softly, placing a hand on his arm, concern etched on her features.
"It was them," he whispered, his eyes stinging with unshed tears, his heart aching. "They were the ones who killed her."
Klaus stiffened, his eyes darkening. "You mean to tell me, these two corpses were responsible for her death?"
Elijah nodded, his jaw clenching. "And now, they're dead too.”
Klaus stiffened, a wave of realization hitting him. "How could that be possible?"
Elijah turned to him, his face ashen, eyes haunted. "You tell me, you were the one drinking every villager dry!"
Elijah looked away, his gaze sweeping over the morbid scene. His heart was pounding in his chest, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind.
He could feel the rage boiling in his veins, a dark, powerful fury threatening to consume him. His fists clenched, and he let out a roar, lashing out at the closest thing to him. His knuckles slammed into the stone wall, shattering bone and splitting the skin. Blood dripped from his hand, but he barely noticed, his anger too intense to be soothed by the pain.
Marcel grabbed Cami, pulling her behind him, shielding her.
Klaus stared at his brother, shock and concern etched on his face.
"Elijah," Cami said, her voice quiet. "This isn't your fault,"
"Isn't it?" Elijah hissed, whirling around to face him. "Don't you get it? They killed her!" He pointed at the two bodies, his voice shaking, his eyes wild with grief and rage. "After all this time... She turned them by mistake... and they must have tracked her down..."
"Elijah," Klaus said softly, stepping closer, his hands raised, palms facing outward.
"No!" Elijah shouted, pushing his brother away, his eyes blazing. "She's dead because of me!"
Klaus stumbled back, his expression stunned.
Elijah took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, his eyes closed. His hand throbbed, blood trickling down his wrist, soaking into his sleeve. He looked down at it, his jaw clenched, his mind reeling. Then he ran, darting up the stairs, his footsteps echoing off the stone.
Klaus started to follow him, but Cami put her hand on his arm, stopping him.
"Let him go," she murmured, her eyes filled with compassion.
Klaus sighed, his shoulders slumping, a grimace of resignation twisting his lips. "This is bad, Camille."
"I know," she replied, her brow furrowing.
"How the bloody hell could they have turned into vampires?" he asked, his confusion mounting.
"Sometimes, snatch, eat, erase, has unintended consequences," Marcel mused, a scowl on his face.
Klaus felt a pang of regret, he had never really reflected about his time in the village. Him and Kol spent most of it drinking their fill of the locals. It was a blur, his memory of it hazy and vague, like a drunken dream. He had no idea that his carelessness could have caused something like this.
Cami wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. He held her close, burying his face in her hair, letting out a frustrated sigh.
Marcel watched them, his expression unreadable. He looked around the room, his gaze landing on the nuns' corpses, his stomach churning.
"Come on, let's get the hell out of here," he said, his voice strained.
"Right," Klaus agreed, taking Cami's hand, following Marcel up the stairs, and out into the night.
Elijah was nowhere to be seen, and Klaus didn't know where to begin looking for him. He had hoped that finding answers could ease his brother's burden, but instead, the truth had only served to deepen the wounds. There was no revenge to be had, and no one to blame but themselves.
13th century Europe
Death, it seemed, was a cold and endless void.
There was nothing... no light, no sound, no sensation. You drifted, suspended in an empty silence, time slipping away without meaning or measure.
But then, something broke through the emptiness. A gentle thumping, rhythmic and insistent, reaching out to you. It called to you, pulling you back.
Your heart.
Painfully, slowly, you felt consciousness returning, a heavy ache settling into your bones. Yet even as you opened your eyes, the darkness did not fade. Silence pressed around you, thick and unyielding, no hint of life.
You lifted a hand, reaching out and felt smooth wood just above your face. Your fingers moved to the sides, finding more planks, enclosing you in every direction. The realization struck, and a choked sob escaped your lips. You were trapped, buried alive, encased in wood and darkness.
A wave of panic gripped you, and you clawed desperately at the wood, splinters digging into your skin as you scratched, feeling the rough surface bite back. The air was stale, thick with the scent of earth. You were suffocating, the weight of the grave pressing in, sealing you away from life.
You were so hungry.
It was a hunger beyond anything you had ever known. It gnawed at your insides, a feverish craving that burned through you, leaving you weak and sick with need. You felt as though you might wither away, disappear into the dark if this hunger was not fed. And in the depths of your mind, one terrible thought rose, unbidden and irresistible.
Blood.
What had become of you? Was this hell? The punishment for your sins? You had failed. Failed God, failed yourself. Your body had been violated, desecrated, and now this was your fate. Condemned, starved, a monster craving blood.
But as the darkness closed in, and the hunger burned like fire, a muffled sound pierced the silence. A faint shuffling, a scraping, and then a loud thud. The wood above you cracked, dirt flooding in, dust filling the air.
Then, hands reached down, breaking through the wood and dirt, and grasping you by the shoulders. They pulled, dragging you out of the grave. The night air rushed in, cool and clean, filling your lungs with life. Above you, stars glittered in the dark sky, so beautiful, so bright it brought tears to your eyes.
A warm blanket wrapped around you, and a voice, soft and familiar, murmured reassurances. Strong arms lifted you, cradling you against a broad chest, carrying you away from the grave’s embrace.
Through the haze, you looked up and met Elijah’s eyes.
His gaze was intense, shadowed with worry, his face softened in relief. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, and as your vision blurred, his words echoed in your mind.
“Don’t be afraid,” he murmured, his voice a balm against the terror that lingered in your heart. “Everything will be alright now, I promise you."
When Bonnie's house came into view, the first thing Rebekah saw was a distinctive figure sitting on the step. She expected he would turn up sooner or later, figuring Stefan had alerted him the moment they left the Grill.
"Is that who I think it is?" Kol asked, his smile widening. "Another bloody Salvatore."
"Well, aren't we popular," Rebekah mused.
They pulled into the driveway and parked, stepping out of the car and walking towards the porch.
"Hey there, Damon," Kol greeted, grinning. "Lovely evening for a visit, isn't it?"
Damon cast a glance at him, but his gaze remained fixed on Rebekah.
"How can I help you?" Damon asked, his voice low, his expression hard.
"Well, for starters, you can leave," Rebekah retorted, crossing her arms. "This is a private matter."
"You can't hurt Bonnie," Damon snapped, his jaw clenching. "Not without going through me."
"Who said anything about hurting her?" Kol quipped, tilting his head.
"Get off of her porch," Damon replied, his voice edged with warning.
Before Damon could blink, Kol's hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of his hair. In a single swift motion, he slammed Damon's face down onto the wooden steps, shoving him hard against the boards. The sound of bone meeting wood echoed in the quiet.
"You certainly have the confidence of a madman," Kol chuckled, pressing his knee into the back of Damon's neck, keeping him pinned.
Damon groaned, trying to pull away, but Kol dragged him back, forcing him to his knees at the base of the stairs.
"Bonnie Bennett?" Rebekah called, her voice cutting through the tension. "I know you're in there, I can hear your heartbeat."
"Don't answer," Damon growled, struggling beneath Kol's hold.
The door creaked open, and Bonnie stood there, just behind the threshold, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the three of them.
"What do you want?"
"We’ve come to ask a favor, love. But your friend here is being rather rude," Kol said, his grip tightening on the back of Damon's neck, amusement flashing in his eyes.
"Let him go," Bonnie ordered, her tone sharp.
"Come outside," Kol demanded, his smile widening.
"Bonnie, don't," Damon hissed through gritted teeth, his muscles tensing against Kol’s hold.
"It's fine, Damon," Bonnie replied, stepping out onto the porch, her gaze wary.
"Good," Kol purred, leaning close, his lips brushing the shell of Damon's ear. "If you move, I'll rip your head off."
Damon snarled, his eyes flashing, but he stayed still, his muscles quivering with barely restrained rage.
"There's a good lad," Kol grinned, releasing his grip, stepping back and away.
"Now," Rebekah said, moving closer to the steps, her eyes locking with Bonnie's. "What do you know about resurrection spells?"
Bonnie let out a humorless laugh, crossing her arms. "No. Absolutely not."
"Come now," Kol drawled, his eyes glittering. "Where's your sense of adventure?"
"Not a chance," Bonnie answered, her jaw clenching. "Even if I could perform a spell that complex, and believe me, I can't, I wouldn't do it."
"Why the hell not?" Rebekah asked, her brow furrowing.
"Look, even if I was inclined to help you, and I'm not," Bonnie shrugged, shaking her head. "A spell like that, the cost is too high. It's not worth it."
"I'm sure we could work something out," Kol smirked, his gaze sweeping over her. He reached out and grabbed Damon by the collar of his jacket, yanking him to his feet. "Maybe a little incentive for you, hmm?"
"Leave him alone," Bonnie warned, her eyes narrowing.
"I would if you'd be reasonable," Kol chuckled, his tone light, a dark edge to his words. "We could do this the easy way, or the hard way. Your choice, darling."
The sound of tires squealing against pavement drew their attention, and Bonnie looked to the street, a sigh escaping her as she realized who it was.
Stefan came bounding up the steps and onto the porch, his gaze dark, his fists clenched at his sides.
"Let him go," he demanded, his eyes locked on Damon.
"Oh, Stef," Kol purred, his smile widening, a wicked gleam in his eye. "I was hoping you'd show up,"
"Stefan," Damon warned, his brow furrowing, his voice low.
"You have two seconds to back the hell off, before I make you," Stefan said, his voice laced with threat.
"What is with the hostility?" Kol scoffed, his brow raising. "I'm just having a little fun,"
Rebekah stepped between them, her arms raised, her gaze flickering from her brother to Stefan. "Everyone relax, this isn't getting us anywhere."
"Tell your brother to let go of my brother," Stefan replied, his voice cold.
"You heard him," Rebekah said, glaring at her sibling, her jaw clenched.
"Fine," Kol muttered, shoving Damon towards his brother. "No need to get testy."
Damon stumbled, but Stefan grabbed him, steadying him, his arm wrapping protectively around his shoulder.
"Let's try this again," Rebekah sighed, looking at Bonnie. "We need your help resurrecting our sister in law, and you're the only person I can think of who can actually do it."
"I can't," Bonnie insisted, her brow furrowing.
"Can't or won't?" Rebekah countered, her eyes narrowing.
"Both," Bonnie snapped, a note of frustration in her voice. "I know better than to mess with forces I can't control."
"Oh please," Kol scoffed, rolling his eyes. "We're immortal, darling. If anyone can control those forces, it's us."
"Look, I'm sorry about your sister in law, really, I am," Bonnie sighed, her shoulders slumping, a pang of sympathy flitting across her features. "But there are always consequences, and they're usually catastrophic."
"That's a chance we're willing to take," Rebekah said, her tone earnest. "You don't have to worry about any fallout, whatever happens, we'll deal with it. All I'm asking is that you consider it."
"I'm sorry," Bonnie shook her head, her brow furrowing. "My answer is no."
"Miss Bennett," a familiar voice called, the sound of footsteps approaching.
All eyes turned to the man walking up the driveway, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, his gaze intent, a hint of a smile on his lips.
"Elijah," Bonnie breathed, her heart skipping a beat, a sense of dread settling in her stomach.
"I will only ask you this once," Elijah said, his voice steady, a glint of steel in his eyes. "Do as we request, and no harm will come to you or your friends."
A tense silence settled over the porch as Elijah’s words hung in the air, his calm tone laced with an unspoken threat. Bonnie took a step back, her heart pounding, but her gaze held steady.
“Elijah,” Stefan said, his voice low and tense, moving protectively in front of Bonnie. “You don’t want to do this.”
Elijah’s gaze shifted to Stefan, his face a mask of cold composure. “I assure you, Stefan, I am quite certain of what I want.”
Damon stepped forward, positioning himself beside his brother, his jaw clenched. “And we’re certain Bonnie’s not doing anything for you or your twisted family reunion.”
A flicker of something darker passed over Elijah’s face, but he remained silent, his eyes narrowing as he regarded the Salvatores.
Rebekah looked between them, an amused smirk playing on her lips, she glanced at her brother.
Kol shrugged, his brow furrowed, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"We don't need the witch's cooperation," Kol said, his gaze turning back to Elijah, his voice filled with amusement. "We could just take her."
"You're not taking anyone," Damon snapped, his voice low, a growl rumbling in his chest.
"Damon," Stefan murmured, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder, his expression grim. "Not a good idea."
"Listen to your brother," Kol smirked, his eyes glittering. "This is none of your business."
"Everything happening in this town is our business," Damon replied, his gaze sharp.
"Is that so?" Kol laughed, a dark edge to his words.
"It is," Damon retorted, his brow furrowing, his hands curling into fists.
"Enough," Elijah said, his voice soft, but authoritative. He turned his gaze back to Bonnie, his eyes filled with a mix of resolve and grief. "Miss Bennett, my wife is dead. And while I do not wish to threaten you, I will not allow anything or anyone to stand in the way of her return."
Bonnie hesitated, her eyes searching his, a chill running down her spine at the look in his eyes. She could feel the weight of his stare, a deep sadness, and a deep rage, burning in the depths of his gaze.
"I can't," she said, her voice barely a whisper.
"I DON'T CARE," Elijah yelled, his voice booming like a thunderclap. "DO IT."
Bonnie jumped at his outburst. She had never feared the Mikaelsons before, not even when they were threatening her, but the look in Elijah's eyes was beyond anything she had ever seen. A deep, aching sorrow and desperation, mingled with a primal rage, all focused on her.
Damon scoffed, stepping up beside Stefan, his defiance barely masking the unease in his eyes. “So that’s it? You’ll sacrifice everyone and everything just to get what you want?”
Elijah’s gaze flicked toward him, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “You know nothing of what I have sacrificed.”
Damon’s lips curled into a smirk, though his fists clenched tightly at his sides. “Yeah, well, I don’t care how ancient or heartbroken you are. Bonnie’s not your pawn, and we’re done playing along.”
Without warning, Elijah grabbed Bonnie's wrists, shackling them and suppressing her magic. Her body went rigid as her mind tried to process what was happening as Damon lunged, his fist aimed straight for Elijah’s face. But Elijah was faster. In a flash, he sidestepped, grabbing Damon’s arm and twisting it behind his back, forcing him down to his knees.
Stefan’s face darkened, and he rushed forward to free his brother, but Elijah’s other hand shot out, gripping Stefan by the throat, holding both brothers captive with terrifying ease.
“Elijah, stop!” Rebekah shouted, alarm replacing the earlier tension in her voice.
Elijah didn’t answer. His expression was cold, detached, a shadow of the man they knew. He brought Stefan's face close to his, his pupils dilating as he stared him down.
"Rip out your brother's heart," he said, his tone calm, almost casual as he compelled Stefan.
Stefan struggled, fighting against the compulsion, a growl rumbling in his chest. Elijah let go of his neck, still holding Damon in place with his other hand. Stefan’s face contorted with the effort to resist Elijah’s command, his hand shaking as it moved involuntarily toward Damon’s chest. Damon’s eyes widened with alarm as he felt his brother’s fingers pressing against his ribs, the pressure building, his breath quickening.
Stefan screamed in anguish, his mind fighting against the compulsion, his arm trembling. But no matter how hard he fought, the magic coursed through him, pushing his arm forward.
"Stop!" Bonnie cried, panic seizing her as she watched Stefan's hand dig deeper into his brother's chest. She moved to rush towards them, but Kol was quicker, pulling her away.
"I wouldn't recommend that, love," Kol whispered, his grip tightening as she tried to fight him off.
“Elijah, please,” Bonnie’s voice shook, her eyes pleading. “This won’t bring her back. It won’t change anything.”
For the briefest of moments, Elijah’s resolve flickered. The pain in Bonnie’s voice seemed to cut through the haze of rage and desperation that clouded his mind, and the realization of what he was doing hit him. But then the memory of your dead body flashed in his mind, and the grief consumed him once again.
"Finish it," Elijah ordered, his voice a low, commanding rumble.
"NO!" Damon shouted, his face contorting with rage, his muscles straining against Elijah's grip.
Stefan's eyes met his brother's, and all he could see was the pain and fear in them, before they dimmed. He knew there was no fighting it, and the moment his fingers wrapped around Damon's beating heart, he accepted his fate.
Damon gasped, a strangled cry escaping him as Stefan began to pull his heart from his chest.
"I'm sorry," Stefan whispered, tears streaming down his face, his eyes locking with Damon's one last time.
Then, with a single, powerful jerk, Stefan ripped his brother's heart from his chest, blood pouring out over his hand. Damon's body fell to the ground, a sickening thud echoing through the night.
Bonnie screamed, the sound piercing the silence, her eyes wide with shock. Kol's grip tightened, holding her still, his other hand covering her mouth to stifle her cries. His expression was a mix of awe and revulsion, but he kept her pressed against him, watching the scene unfold with rapt attention.
Rebekah stood frozen, a wave of horror and guilt washing over her. She could feel the hot tears stinging her eyes, her throat constricting, the blood draining from her face. She looked at her brother, hoping for some sign of mercy, some trace of humanity, but his face was a blank mask, devoid of feeling.
Stefan, still compelled, released Damon’s heart and stared down at his own bloodstained hands in horror as the compulsion faded. He fell to his knees beside Damon’s body, shaking uncontrollably, his expression vacant as the reality of what he had just done settled in.
“Elijah,” Rebekah’s voice was a shaky whisper, her face ashen as she struggled to find the brother she had known. “What have you done?”
Elijah turned to her, his expression unreadable, his eyes empty. “What was necessary.”
“Necessary?” Rebekah’s voice cracked, a tear slipping down her cheek as she took a step toward him. “This… this isn’t you, Elijah. This… this is madness.”
Bonnie wrenched herself free from Kol’s grip, her gaze blazing with fury and despair. "I will never, ever, help you," she snarled, her voice quivering with rage.
Elijah looked down at her, then looked to Stefan, still kneeling beside his brother's corpse, a look of agony and guilt twisting his face.
"Is that your final answer?" Elijah asked, his voice quiet.
"Yes," Bonnie answered, her heart hammering against her ribs, her breathing ragged.
"Very well," Elijah said, he grabbed Stefan by the neck, pulling him to his feet. Then, without hesitation, he plunged his hand into his chest, tearing out his heart.
"No!" Bonnie screamed, her voice breaking as she fell to her knees.
Stefan's body dropped to the floor, lifeless and broken, his eyes wide open, landing with a soft thud next to his brother.
"Elijah," Rebekah's voice trembled, her eyes wide and unseeing, her mind unable to comprehend what was happening.
"Take her," Elijah said, his eyes fixed on the witch. "And do not let her go."
Kol hesitated, his face pale, his eyes fixed on the bodies.
"Now, Kol," Elijah ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"Fine," Kol muttered, his brow furrowing as he approached Bonnie, his grip tightening on her shoulders.
"C'mon, love. Let's get this over with," he said to her softy, dragging her to her feet.
Bonnie didn't resist, her gaze locked on Elijah, the anger and hatred rolling off her in waves.
"We're going to do this, one way or another," Elijah told her, his voice calm, his eyes hard. "The only question is, how many more lives do you want to take before we get started?"
"I hate you," Bonnie said, her voice a harsh whisper.
"Yes, I imagine you do," Elijah answered, his expression unchanging. "But that doesn't matter, not now. What matters is getting my wife back."
Rebekah stood motionless, staring at the two corpses, her mind unable to process the horror that surrounded her. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, her heart racing, the world around her spinning. The Salvatores were a pain in her side, and she had always thought them fools, but they didn't deserve this. The gravity of what had just happened was too heavy, too surreal to fully comprehend.
Kol and Rebekah watched their once noble, honorable brother, the north star of their family, turn to face them. But that guiding light was now gone, consumed by shadow. What stood before them was no longer their Elijah, but something else entirely.
A dark star, collapsing under its own weight, dragging everything into its relentless abyss.
{Part One}{Part Two}{Part Three}{Part Four}{Part Six}
#elijah mikaelson#klaus mikaelson#freya mikaelson#rebekah mikaelson#marcel gerard#damon salvatore#stefan salvatore#kol mikaelson#cami o'connell#the originals#the vampire diaries#vampire diaries#tvdu#elijah mikaelson smut#elijah mikaelson imagine#elijah mikealson imagine#elijah mikealson#elijah mikaelson x reader#elijah mikealson x reader#tvd#the vampire diaries x you#the vampire diaries x reader#the vampire diares imagine#the vampire diaries imagine#the originals imagine
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Some thoughts about the mouthwashing fandom and some character analysis(?) under the cut.
While the game is clearly meant for older audiences (14+ at least, from my understanding, although I couldn't find an official age rating), the fandom is flooded by kids and teens too young to even play the game or understand the characters and actions they take.
The game deals with some very upsetting themes. From murder and suicide to self harm and sexual assault (some more prominent than others). While it's totally fine if someone feels uncomfortable with any of these themes, that doesn't erase them from the game and shouldn't discourage people from showing them in the fandom. If it's truly that upsetting to someone I would recommend they go into some other fandom (at least where the source material is not as triggering to them). We are here to have a good time, not a stressful one.
The fandom is this twisted 'happy/nothing bad happens' and everyone is turning a blind eye to how disturbing and disgusting the game was.
Don't get me started on the treatment Jimmy goes through. Yes, he is a terrible person for what he does in game but 1: he was clearly mentally unwell* (I'll add to that later), especially after a point and 2: 'fandom Jimmy' literally did nothing wrong (unlike cannon Jimmy), his depictions in the fandom is him being brutally murdered or just existing.
*It's not only implied in game that he's mentally unwell, we literally see him descent into madness by the end. From the beginning (him refusing to cooperate for the phyc evaluations), to the breakdown he was having after he navigated the ship to crash into a meteorite, to him having hallucinations (the graveyard, the cake scene with everyone gathered etc).
Also Curly, damn. I get it that he enabled Jimmy's actions to a degree but are we forgetting Swansea also stood there and did nothing? He said Anya was telling him 'all sorts of things' (implying the SA from Jimmy) yet he still did literally nothing, not even attempt to talk to him. Curlys worst sin was him being a realistic and complex character. Having a personal crisis about his own future and fulfilment in life, trying to navigate the whole 'pony express is closing' with an unhappy crew, having to help Anya who was having basically a breakdown and was on a high risk of hurting herself with the gun, having to confront Jimmy about the whole affair (it was implied that he didn't know from the beginning that the pregnancy was not only unwanted but also forced), trying to help an old friend. It all piles up. He could have handled things better, sure, but to pretend he is equally as bad as Jimmy is just wrong and shows the lack of judgment, understanding and overall empathy of realistic characters and situations.
Neither Curly nor Swansea did anything drastic because there was nothing they could do. Curly was trying to help everyone in his way, too blinded by their friendship to acknowledge or predict what Jimmy was capable of before it was too late.
Personally I think mouthwashing is an excellent game, definitely one of the best I've ever played. The story, the way the events take place, the characters, the imagery, the music. The way it successfully builds up the uneasy atmosphere without any jumpscares, embracing the 'psychological horror' element to it's fullest. Truly a great game, I just wish the fandom was a little more 'mature' (mentally wise).
#it's not wrong or bad to be a kid who likes horror etc but this is definitely not a child friendly game#honestly I don't understand the Jimmy hate to that level. he's terrible yes but also kinda tragic? and definitely his actions are explained#not censoring his name like how I've seen people do because saying things with their own name is better imo that making words up#feels like sugarcoating them. like we demonize the word itself#sorry for rambling#not art#text#mouthwashing#fandom critical#character analysis#cw sa mention#cw death mention#feel free to add anything and I'm totally up for civil discussion#btw when I said his actions are explained I meant after the crash. everything before is like. a mystery. who tf does all that
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can this fandom stop doing abuse apologia for two seconds? please?
https://www.tumblr.com/pinkandpurple360/740860437950857216/this-back-and-forth-went-on-for-a-while-and-it?source=share
someone on xitter is claiming Stolas "didn't realize how predatory the deal is and got upset when he figured it out" and that he didn't knowingly do anything wrong, & there's "a difference between doing it knowingly and not realizing you have an unhealthy power dynamic" (and also that it wasn't actually a deal, Blitzo just thought it was?? or something?? I guess using the phrase 'favors for favors' and 'I give you X if you give me Y' somehow isn't a deal now, but idk - contradictory excuses again)
and like, what?? assuming Stolas somehow didn't realize - I mean, he called when Blitzo was getting shot at, kept pressuring him when there were gunshot sounds and Blitzo repeatedly saying he couldn't talk, but let's just entertain the hypothetical for a second: then how is that better?
"I used my power, status and your need to keep your job to coerce you into monthly sex"
vs
"I didn't realize the difference my power, status and your need to keep your job when I totally didn't coerce you into monthly sex and that was just the end result (because I still wanted sex from you and was going to get it one way or another)"
If anything the second possibility is scarier, tbh. The first one is awful but shows a baseline understanding of what it means for Stolas to be a royal and Blitzo to be an imp. He's at least aware on some level that what he's doing is coercive, has rationalized it away until now and while he's still an awful person, he could someday admit what he's done is wrong and not do it again.
The second one suggests a Stolas who has no real understanding of how the world around him actually works, or that it makes a massive difference for him to be a prince and Blitzo and imp. If he made that deal believing Blitzo freely consented to it then he has no understanding of how the lack of money and power dictates the lives of people below him, or how consent even works. He wouldn't be capable of even understanding what he's done wrong because he's incapable of understanding the forces that motivate those around him & he's functionally blind to his own ability to motivate the lower classes to do whatever he wants, even at the cost of their own bodies and time. Also like, ignorance is not an excuse.
And the saddest thing? I think the second version of Stolas is closer to the one in canon. Murder Family Stolas might have known exactly what he was doing, but s2 Stolas has been moving more and more towards "this situation is barely my fault at all" - the tweet saying he realized what he did wrong and it made him sad is giving Stolas too much credit, I suspect. imo everything is building towards Stolas letting him go not because he realizes what he did was wrong, but because he now wants something else from Blitzo - his love and affection and the ability to paint over ever having to think of his relationship with Blitzo as having involved coercion on his end. until then all we've seen him do is complain the "relationship" is a "lie", not notice or care that his "lover" is the exact same species as the servants he also exploits and abuses, and send passive-aggressive "I'm sorry if you were offended" type texts
tl:dr; but until Stolas says the words "I was wrong to use your job to get you to make the deal, I'm sorry and I was kidding myself you actually wanted to sleep with me this whole time" or something similar with no weasel-wording and putting the blame on Blitzo, I'm not going to believe he's learnt a damned thing. if anything I think the show is just going to lean more into making Stolas unaware of his flaws and privileges; attempting to make him more pitiable & sympathetic while accidentally making him more abhorrent
(also like, gee. how sad for Stolas. how awful it is for him to have realized he took advantage of someone. sure is nice for the story to focus on the feelings of the rich prince realizing he took advantage of someone instead of his victim coming to terms with that fact and breaking free. honestly, I hope these takes are all coming from the same couple of individuals; I'd hate to think the HB fandom is doing this on a widespread scale)
Sometimes, you've just got to wearily gesture to all of this.
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I'm sorry you don't have the wherewithal or understanding of how things are interconnected here to reach the relatively logical conclusion I have/
If I have or not that understanding is not the issue. Because we don’t have to be blind or make theories to see that he decided to married her. But is not interconnected in any case or capacity. I haven’t seen this supposed power A starting point has, the one you kinda mentioned being the cause of why his team “put him in that pr relationship or the power of CAA on his website”. Trust me, that website doesn’t have any power to stop a war or to start one and neither the people who created it. None. So the idea of CAA and his team doing childish actions to get down his “power” as a celebrity and his platform because it can affect a possible war is totally wrong. CAA has MANYYYYY people and websites and money to used for a war. Why would a barley known platform be a problem for them? And believe me, a guy who used to be captain america, whom probably got the Jonny storm part in Deadpool by begging for it (we saw it how was so anxious to play it), whom the only praise he got after marvel was DJ and KO, whom the latest achievement was marrying a racist cam girl. Definitely won’t be a problem for CAA or whom ever is paying or funding a war to try to take down his platform or him. And just like most of you say he doesn’t have power in HW, is indeed true. He doesn’t have it, so why would CAA screw him by giving him a pr disaster if he is a nobody for them and for the business, not even a rock in their path.
Hello anon,
Because he had a powerful fandom capable of burying things for him or promoting them on his behalf
Why do you think they targeted the fans?
They were the source of his power
🤍🪽✨
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Even more questions. Some for characters, some for Simple themself!
I’ll start with a question about ships. Opinions on platonic Jack/Nurm? I think they married for tax benefits.
Next, gimme a few favorite mob hcs for… let’s go with Jack, Milo, Binta, Romeo, and Magnus! Feel free to cut a few if that’s too many.
And now for the hardest question — favorite season 2 character/s? Mine are Jack, Nurm, and Radar.
Onto character questions.
Soren, opinions on the Creaking and the Warden?
Binta, what do you think of the world above the bedrock? Was it a bit overwhelming at first?
Ivor, what was your favorite place to go in the portal hallway? Either with Jesse and the group or with Harper.
That’s it for now, but i’ll be back!
//Start of the recording//
The screen shows Dimple, looking confusingly at the couch. The frame lags, changing to an empty room with the same very couch. The frame lags again, showing white void, but the couch still kept the same. Suddenly, a figure appears there, having a static errors all over itself, bluring the image.
Seems like it starts speaking, the voice kinda robotic — "Tttthanks for the questions! Lemme start from the beginning.. yeah, I love platonic Jask/Nurm, though I prefer the romantic version more. Still, tax benefits are the best. We all probably should call the ship that way, lmao."
Figure lags a bit, low signal interrupts the recording, before the frame goes back to blurry over the figure — "Favorite mob though a bit harder.. Jack probably would like the Breeze. The mechanic of the mob is cool, it's not that easy to defeat, it reminds of the Blaze, but without burns scars. The best for him. Meanwhile Milo would go with something less aggressive.. probably sheeps for two reason: rainbow wool and it's making funny noises. Considering they couldn't be very creative back at Sky City, he will love the amount of colours he can get from one sheep. Binta, however, should stick with chickens. Because she got attached to Waffles and because she would love to keep memory of Fred that way. Romeo, considered how much he loved lava and fire in has admin form, would go for something totally different in his human form. Maybe strays? He totally would go for Magma Cube in Admin form though. Last but not least is Magnus.. even if almost everyone in fandom thinks he would go for creeper, I say he loves them only theoretically. They're still a danger to him, so here I choose cats without a doubt. You saw the picture in his room, right?" — the voice sounds almost like smiling.
"Finally, the hardest question.. you're right, I had rough time picking three favs. So I'm going to go with Vos, Fred and Warden. All three of them are dead in canon, sadly, but hey, I sure have a type here, haha!" — with the laugh, screen goes black.
//End of the recording//
The tape almost flies from DVD, light smoke comes from it.
//Start of the recording//
Camera focuses on the couch, little crack in the up corner seems unusual. Soren uncomfortably shifts on the couch — "What's up with camera?"
(it had tough times. doesn't matter, let's go for the question.)
The Architect sights, shaking his head and looking back at the camera — "Okay, so.. as Dimple showed us these mobs, I'm able to answer the question. Let's say.. I'm not very fond of them. The Creaking though seems less threatening, than Warden is. Notch, thank you it don't exist back in our world. Otherwise Order would definitely try to go for it, and I'm.. uh.." — he looks down at his hands, shaking a bit — "I'm not sure I would be capable to save them in time with c. block.. the thing casts blindness on you after all..." — with closed eyes, he shakes his head, looking back at the camera — "Yeah, I'm not fond of them, especially of the Warden." — before the frame changes, he quietly mumbles "Killing it doesn't drop anything useful anyway.."
The frame changed to Binta, sitting on the couch with Waffles — "Ah.. well. Dimple took me and Waffles before we got to the overworld, so you can say first time we saw the sun was here. And it's good, really. I just wish I could've bring all my people with me. They deserve it as much as I do." — she gently stroke Waffles' feather, sad smile playing on her lips while she was looking at him — "I love the air, it's so fresh unlike our dusty. The clouds are sweet too, and all the green plants? They look a lot better than down there! Tastes better too. Again, I wish I could spare this moment with my people."
The frame changes to Ivor, doing crosswords.
(..ahem!)
With a slight jump, he places the paper down, taking off his glasses. Expression a bit nervous — "You'll cut it off, right?"
(ssssure)
With a huff, he looks at the camera — "Obviously it's the lava one. There are lots of them, actually, but there's certain one filled with only lava and small islands of basalt. Good place to train ninja skills, if you ask me." — smirk plays on his lips — "Of course if you're not afraid of burning to death."
//End of the recording//
#mcsm#minecraft story mode#simpletalks#mcsm ivor#mcsm jack#mcsm nurm#mcsm binta#mcsm soren#mcsm ask#mcsm characte ask
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Btw im very happy i finally found someone that agrees that allison had no right to be a fox 🫡
Hit me with your honest opinion about her, please
I had to suffer through years of allison worship
Well I want to start by saying I’ve yet to read the books(been busy with class) so my opinions of Allison are mostly formed from fanfics and tumblr. And I too am happy to meet someone else that doesn’t like her.
I honestly am just annoyed by her. She just comes off to me as nosy, pushy and unwilling to take no and mind your own business as an answer(which is half the reason I don’t think Andrew would ever do more than tolerate her). I know fics have a tendency to exaggerate characters worst traits but her betting on Andrew and Neil’s sexuality and their relationship, not to mention her(and some of the other foxes) seeming purposeful blindness to the fact Neil and Renee are as dangerous as Andrew and perfectly capable of defending themselves against him if necessary. I’m not saying she doesn’t have a reason not to like or distrust Andrew and I know the feeling is mutual but Allison’s(and some of the other foxes) blunt hypocrisy in refusing to see Neil and Renee as anything other than innocent flowers that needs to be protected from big bad Andrew just gets on my last nerves. Not to mention how most people write her forcing Neil to buy clothes outside of his comfort zone and get haircuts he doesn’t want or like(or he simply doesn’t want to cut his hair) as if his opinion on what he looks like doesn’t matter. Mostly for me it’s Allison’s(and most of the foxes honestly) inability to accept a plain no and mind her own business when it comes to Andrew and Neil and their relationship.
And I know this fandom tends to ship Allison and Renee and I get it but I just don’t see it working long term. I read a fic where they were in a on/off relationship after graduation for years before calling a quits because they were two very different people who lived/wanted to live different lifestyles and wanted different things out of life , so they ended it before they lose their friendship too which is now my personal hc and how I see it going for them. I read another fic where all of Allison’s betting spiraled into gambling and her invasiveness grew into outing young employees l(by being nosy and betting on their sexuality) that work underneath her and while even I think this is a very bad take on her, I could also totally see this happening like it not completely out of character for her.
Honestly, I never really considered her not really being a proper fox and only got accepted for the PR. But when I read your tags I was like huh you’re not wrong. Her past(I think correct me if I’m wrong) is mommy and daddy not agreeing with how she wants to live her life which is sad but I wouldn’t really call it fox material.
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I am not sure how long you have been in the SPN fandom (I have only been in it for 3 years) but I was wondering has the infighting about which J is actually the better one always been a thing? I sometimes see some fans really hating on them for what seems like very petty reasons and projecting all kinds of jealously, codependence, and envious behavior especially onto Jensen. I love Jared but the way some Jared fans act like Jensen has or had some creepy obsession with him makes me wonder if this is something that has always been around or manifested more after the prequel situation.
It's been around 11 years for me, being properly in the fandom. I binged the series just in time to catch the start of season 8 airing real-time, and came to tumblr when I realized fanfic was not going to scratch the itch of sharing speculation about what would happen next. So far as I'm aware, from personal observation and seeing people who've been around longer talking about the what the fandom was like? It's always been a thing to some extent, but the extent has varied a lot depending on when and what part of the fandom you're in.
The extreme Jensen stans - generally called Ackles Army (AAs) - have always been upfront and loud about hating Jared over anything and everything - almost literally to the point of insisting he's breathing wrong. They overlap a lot with hellers because of a generally shared desire to get Jared off SPN and away from Jensen, convinced he was in the way/holding Jensen back/throwing jealous tantrums to control Jensen and the show/whatthefuckever.
While some extreme Jared stans didn't bother to hide, a lot of them insisted they were totally fans of both prior to prequelgate and maybe some were - to an extent. For the most part they could blend in, because most of the time? Jensen and Jared were in pretty synchronous agreement - doing publicity together, agreeing the brother bond was the center of the show, not really doing a lot of other projects, etc. But over time, long before prequelgate, well it just always so happened that if either J got solo attention or there was some perceived difference? According to these supposed bibros, Jared was not capable of even considering making a bad decision ever, while nearly everything Jensen did alone was somehow embarrassing or suspect and supposedly reflected badly on him. They didn't necessarily want Jensen to go away, just know his place as the cheerleading subordinate. Of course now that Jensen and Jared are doing separate projects and attention for Jensen does not automatically mean attention to Jared, with the handy kickoff of prequelgate to claim extra totes legit justification over that misunderstanding they sorted out in a single phone call ... well, here we are.
By and large the AAs/hellers have always been more extreme - in terms of sheer quantity of assholes openly wishing not just failure but actual harm on Jared and sending death threats to him and other fans. But in terms of petty back and forth bullshit dragging the actors, these days they openly do a lot of the exact same nonsense: J is ugly! J is an alcoholic/druggie! J is a complete failure post-SPN! J is abusive to fave!J! J is obviously jealous of fave!J/trying to sabotage fave!J! J only did X because fave!J did Y so much better! Only fave!J was essential to the show, it was his character's story!
Both sides are constantly justifying themselves with the ol' OMG THEY STARTED IT! nonsense. Sure, the self-serving justifications differ just a little where the Jensen stans pretend to be amnesiac and blind to the really gross and reprehensible shit sent directly to Jared and basically everything the real Jensen says, while the Jared stans insist no one should object to anything they say because at least it's not wishing death on anybody (despite how much they lose their shit over even the petty nonsense when it's being directed at Jared). As if it's not obviously a constant back and forth of copycat stupid that has everything to do with each side trying to "prove" their personal superiority in being fans of The Better J by talking shit on the internet.
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Online (and to a lesser extent offline) FTM community traits I've noticed:
Extremely risk adverse and certainly aren't open to experimenting and risk taking. Anti-diy
Very concerned with victimhood and their place in the oppression Olympics. Perceived leverage through being oppressed is more important than actual power. They are very jealous of trans women for this reason. They don't like being seen as being less oppressed than trans women.
Neurotic/anxious
Low self esteem
Not competitive
Pessimistic
Tend to be connected to fandoms
Extremely reactive and can be very toxic online in my experience. Very defensive.
Very impractical. Unaware that the rest of the world isn't like their online communities. Very siloed and seem to almost lack a sense of self preservation. They've kept themselves so safe and siloed away in their communities that they real world is no longer real to them
Intolerant of negative feelings on any level
Liberal, radlib, or vaguely sjw nerdy moderate, not usually leftist in any real way
Very pomo, but not in a self aware way
Timid and introverted
Reflexively obedient to authority/they tend to conflate obedience with morality
Do not have faith in their ability to reason and think for themselves. Don't consider themselves competent or capable of becoming so
Very sensitive. Intolerant of criticism or even anything that's not perfectly positive.
They don't tell the truth or want to know the truth if it's anything but what they'd want it to be/how they think it "should" be. Ie. They think and say a lot of obviously false things just because they feel good and view anyone saying differently as morally bad. In fact they aren't concerned with reality or truth at all. The truth must not hurt their feelings.
Being self confident is considered morally bad. You are expected to undermine yourself when you speak to make other people feel comfortable. If you're too confident you are like a cis man (derogatory)
Think everything has to do with them and therefore get very upset when someone says something they don't relate to. Very easily offended.
Don't tend to joke around
Very "I am feel uncomfortable when we are not about me"
Require external validation
Many seem to mentally separate themselves from cis men. They don't want to be compared to cis men. Cis men are ontologically bad. Therefore they have a complex about this where they want to separate themselves from cis men socially as much as possible and they mindlessly consider anything that feminist women aren't into as toxic masculinity. Even things as innocuous as weightlifting, football, or fishing
They see cis men as above them, as more powerful than them. Gay relationships between them and cis men often end up mimicking straight dynamics because they feel incapable of stepping into their own power/they seem totally blind to that concept in the first place. They are often blind when dating cis men that see them as women
Unaware of how their positionality has shifted as they start passing as men in general
Continue to think of themselves as operating from a female position and don't latch onto healthy value shifts. Ie. They may continue to be obsessed with being skinny and having a small waist even though that isn't valued in males.
Immune and often blind to to a lot of male expectations and pressures - to be successful, to be strong, to be competent and courageous, to be able to take care of themselves. To not seem gay or feminine. This can be both positive and negative
Derive comfort from limiting expectations on themselves as much as possible - as they are very sensitive, they don't want to be held to masculine standards, even in the way cis men are. This is fine in a way, but also a little delusional/evidence that they don't see themselves as men
Don't tend to have cis male friends
Have a strong drive to seek comfort
Passive, don't seem to understand the concept of being an actor in the world. Not really into doing
Culty impulses - very group-think prone. Dislike people who are different from them
Don't think a lot in general - not a sharpened skill. Content to let other people think for them. Not a very intellectual group - Tend to react rather than think. They don't like it when other people think too much either - there's a sort of anti-intellectualism
Not good at respectfully disagreeing with others. They either submit to the other person's beliefs or they are furious that you are disagreeing with them and behave in a toxic immature way
Very concerned with being seen as good in an abstract obedient child way. Obsessed with being harmless. Can't even comprehend that there might be times where it is important for one to do harm on purpose. They present themselves as thoroughly defanged because they don't think a man can be good without being incapable of harm. Try to be golden retriever boys
That said, they will absolutely cause harm, but in a very immature reactive way. They don't want to cause harm because they don't want to feel bad, not because they have any sort of moral core. If bigotry results in more comfort than not being bigoted, they will be bigoted in a "I am the victim" way
Very childish in general, in both behavior and interests.
Very abstract but simplistic. Their idea of how the world should be overrides how the world actually is across the board.
Fetishize youth - don't have a concept that they can't transition to be a boy for the rest of their life and will one day necessarily be a man/at their age they are men. They don't have a plan for that and they don't like the word man.
Very into fantasy, stories, and drawings and characters.
Fantasize > analyze
L
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hey hey mary, i personally like jegulily but i want to give some of the reasons why people might not like reg/lily, because like i have thought about it in the past, but basically i'm not sure if people view it as a personality shift on reg's part so much as like the expression of his bigoted beliefs. like yes he's conflicted, yes he's capable of change, but i can understand why it might rub people the wrong way shipping someone who is at the very least nominally a blood supremacist with a muggleborn. i do think there are ways around it, like in an au for example, but yeah, i do think there are reasonable reasons for people to not be super comfy with reg/lily. though, at the same time ummmm not everyone in this fandom is good at respectfully expressing their opinions or knowing when to leave others well enough alone, so i fully get the frustration. i hope this come across as respectful, i apologise if my tone is off in places!
oh you’re totally coming across as respectful!
that’s a part of the conversation that i am open to, and a part of that dynamic that i think should be treated carefully and with respect. this isn’t really about that side of not liking jegulily, because that’s a reasonable reason why. that reason is not one i would get upset by at all.
i’ve even expressed that i think jegulily or regulily works best in an au. i am not blind to that. but in general, whether it’s an au or not, people are like disgusted by lily and regulus being a ship or in jegulily. i really think peoples problem here (in au’s and beyond) stems from them being unable to see regulus in a meaningful romantic/sexual relationship with a woman (which if that’s simply because you hc him as a gay man, then fair enough and much respect to you! but you don’t have to shit on people that hc him with a different sexuality, which i have seen a lot of.)
i added another part on twitter about how regulus is only allowed to be flawed when in a same sex relationship (or additionally when he’s in no relationship at all.) like moonseeker is a thing, a ship with a half blood werewolf and a pureblood on opposite sides of a war, and there is no problem exploring regulus’s morally gray tendencies there. and when he’s shipped with barty, people seem to be fine with making him an absolute menace to society.
but i do agree that the canon world makes regulily/jegulily/or even a lily/regulus friendship a bit more difficult, but even then i don’t think it would be impossible or crazy. lily was friends with snape for so long, so she at least was capable of morally gray thinking and compassion (not that she had to be compassionate or understanding at all or anything. if she just started spitting in the face of snape and/or regulus, i would cheer her on honestly.)
but also (sorry for all my rambling usage of “but”) i think regulily/jegulily can be done well in canon if treated with that aforementioned respect and care. so many canon compliant fics are out there where regulus joins the death eaters and still is morally gray and does the whole horcrux shit and is a sympathetic character, it’s just always limited to specifics ships, which frustrates me a bit.
anyways, i don’t know how to end this little ramble i went on. so thank you for bringing this up! i love having little discussions like this, so yeah. i’m always open to this stuff <333
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Six Sentence Sunday Tag
Thank you for the tag, @writernopal.
How it works:
Writers: post (approximately) six sentences from something you’re working on. If you aren’t ready to do that, add six sentences to your WIP.
Readers: challenge yourselves to leave a six sentence comment or give a writer a six sentence prompt. (or a total of six sentences for the day)
Fans and creators alike: reblog a fandom post and add some love in the tags. Aim for 6 posts - or 6 tags. Whatever you can manage!
Passing the tag to @blind-the-winds, @cljordan-imperium, @anthros-vanitas-archive, @sam-glade, @sleepyowlwrites, @ceph-the-ghost-writer, and an open tag for whomever's reading this and wishes to participate.
From the next chapter of Empty Names (Does bringing up faith and religion in general terms warrant a content warning? Putting it below a "Keep reading" line anyway.):
The last time Eris really even thought about her faith for more than a passing moment, much less talked to someone about it, was a few years back during Lacuna’s short-lived attempt to become a witch.
Lacuna’d been venting to Eris about her frustration with trying to even comprehend what it was like to have faith or belief in anything spiritual, and lamenting that she just didn’t seem capable of feeling anything like that. It simply hadn’t been part of her life one way or the other growing up and while she knew intellectually that religion was important to most people, she just couldn’t seem to wrap her head around some fundamental aspect of it. Even the swearing by some nonspecific goddess that Eris still caught her friend doing on occasion was more of a phrase-substitution speech pattern she’d trained herself into than a genuine expression of belief. Eris had tried to find the words to explain her own experience, but she never was sure how clearly it came across. Lacuna had dropped any attempts at witchcraft not long after and never really brought it up again.
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More fandom Salt.
And so often online, especially fan, we hear "every hated character is is female because fandoms are misogynistic", last time I checked Scrappy Doo and Jar Jar Binks were male, and the latter's actor was bullied so bad, he considered suicide.
And fandoms, especially tumblr and twitter, still disproportionately belittle and patronize female fans. Like its totally ok for male fans to love problematic female villains, but if a female fan loves a problematic male character, all Hell breaks loose.
After all, female fans are too naive to tell fiction from reality and if they like a male character that does evil things, that means they'll think he's genuinely heroic and of course, hook up with a real man that's abusive and encourage other women to do the same.
Even some real writers have gotten into this, after all female viewers need to be protected from fictional men, lest they learn the wrong lession.
But male fans, of course, they're too smart and capable to take the wrong lessons from their love of female villains, and of course, men can't be abused by women!
I mean that's true and annoying but I'd also say that just because some male characters get disproportionate hate doesn't change the fact that female characters and villains tend to be consider annoying specifically for things male characters are given the grace to do? Two bad takes can be true at once, and some people can be wrong for different reasons.
I mean absolutely I think Colleen Hoover is a bad writer and wouldn't be interested in reading her books but there is a level where I think insulting women who like it bleeds into insulting women for having an interest in sex and porn and dark romance
But again I'd also rather not like make general blanket statements about how all of x criticism is just y because it blinds you to genuine faults and leads to being really defensive, ya know? Like it is possible to go too far in one direction or another.
Also, as a side note, while I absolutely do not mind engaging in salt and complain about fandom stuff frequently, I feel a little weird publishing asks from random people about it, especially when I don't know the context/it's overly broad, if that makes sense? I'm probably going to delete anything else you send like this unless it's responding to something specific, despite all appearances I don't like being annoyed all the time and I'm actually not always ready to complain about vague concepts at a moment's notice, you know? Nothing against you anon, it's just I personally have been feeling weird about these asks
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november of 2020, red barrels did a charity stream for extralife that was pretty lowkey. sadly, only a few people attended, so i’d like to document the info we got from writer jt petty for the fandom!
i'll divide what we discussed during red barrels' charity stream into sections: games and comics. some of this could be misremembered or misquoted, but i'm trying to stick by the facts that i recall.
OUTLAST & WHISTLEBLOWER:
outlast is, as a matter of fact, under the ‘dating sim’ category on steam. jt says that he wrote a lot of the characters in this mindset. he also said it probably says more about him than the characters.
miles is the kind of guy to get fussed about the difference between 'carport' and 'garage' and 'eclair' and 'boston creme'. this is about the only insight we got into his personality, because jt couldn't talk about him: miles and waylon were pretty firmly off limits.
as for waylon, his taste in music is heavy metal! he's kind of the cool dad, or at least perpetuates the cool dad myth. he would definitely play mario kart with his two boys. gamer dad!
chris walker was from a military family. after returning home from afghanistan, he struggled to make a return to normalcy, and didn't have many connections to others nor friendships. jt doesn't believe he was ever involved romantically. he said that he feels chris was in the process of trying to heal by looking for something to protect. chris is also his and vincent’s favorite character.
father martin enjoyed painting landscapes before the art therapy program was cut by helen grant, according to red barrels. when asked if he liked bob ross, they responded, ‘who doesn’t?’ when my friend said that he was the creepiest character in outlast, jt said that’s totally on her.
rick trager was born into money, and his father's estate and success made it nigh impossible for him to measure up to his legacy. he was the classic disappointment son of a billionaire and never lived up to his father’s expectations. in a bit of trivia, we learned his favorite food is croissants: spinach croissants in particular, because he hates himself. jt also mentioned that rick likely believed he would really profit from selling the body parts he amputated from the variants and miles, and figured he would make out just fine. and that, ‘he probably will.’ if he had a dog, it would probably be something sickly and overbred, like a pug.
langin is named after jt’s wife. he names characters he dislikes after people he likes, and vice versa.
jeremy blaire is probably the most reprehensible character in outlast: the one who is most capable of assuming responsibility for his actions, a face to the name of the murkoff corporation. he enjoys christmas because of the capitalist reason for the season. he would probably give pretty lousy and cheap gifts to his employees. he’s named after two people jt likes.
furthermore, murkoff isn’t the sort of company that gives permission for holiday parties during work hours: if you want to celebrate at all, you do it on your own time or your break.
frank manera would probably be a fan of phil collins’ music since his songs often have a very slow buildup before the payoff. jt interestingly compared this to cannibalism, and how it requires dedicated patience. frank had to go without before indulging in human meat.
frank would most likely get along very well with eddie if they'd met under different circumstances, such as at a party. he sees the two of them as being very unlikely friends, the two dissimilar guys you never expect to get along as well as they do.
eddie was jt’s favorite character to write for due to his ‘flirtatious’ and fun dialogue. he truly believes in his delusions, or rather that they aren’t delusions at all; he was described as being blind to everything else around him when he thinks that he’s in love. if he had a dog, it would be a corgi.
OUTLAST II:
lynn was inspired by people jt has met in the film industry, and her ambition highlights that.
knoth is pretty cultured when it comes to his taste in music, and he has a lot of knowledge of older artists. i believe jt said that he mostly enjoys the blues. if he had a dog, it would have attachment issues and be extremely eager to please, like a shepherd or cattle dog.
marta’s goal of becoming perfectly brainwashed to the doctrine of temple gate was realized. in trying to please knoth, she erased any lingering doubts or traces of guilt in what she was doing, and she no longer feels much emotion at all due to how she has absorbed the cult’s mentality. she is ultimately feared because she is the perfect example of obedience to knoth.
she/her pronouns were used for val. jt corrected himself quickly to they/them, but it still stands.
jenny roland, the pathologist mentioned in documents in both the underground lab from outlast and well-hidden field report from the lake chapter of outlast 2, may very well make an appearance in future games. she seems to be quite important, as jt couldn’t talk about her outside of one personality detail i got out of him: she doesn’t wear either slippers or socks in her home because she’s a clean freak and instead goes barefoot. she’s the sort of person to have everything neatly organized in her home, all the shoes lined up by the door, and not a speck of dust in sight. he was pretty genuinely surprised by all the interest in her character, and red barrels suggested making joke merch for her. socks and maybe fingerless gloves? i'd honestly buy some jenny socks.
THE COMICS:
jt said that the pauls (the two murkoff legal mitigation officers, paul marion and pauline glick) are going to be increasingly relevant to the story of outlast as it continues, and that he has big plans to continue where the comics left off. given this tidbit, and the epilogue of the story, could we possibly see paul as future protagonist, or maybe in pauline's case, a future major antagonist? at least there’s now solid hope for a follow up to the story of the comics, and possibly an explanation as to what led to paul and pauline’s injuries, as well as murkoff’s haste to find paul before he does further damage. his story left off with simon telling him that they have to find the walrider in order to find the answer to where his daughter alice has disappeared to, after all.
likewise, he hinted that alice marion (paul's daughter) is also going to somehow be crucially important, making mention of the circumstances of her rare blood disease and experimental gene therapy treatment by the murkoff corporation not being any sort of coincidence, and saying that he has big plans for her. could this mean that simon was telling the truth about her connection to temple gate? is she somehow connected to the morphogenic engine? could this also be why pauline says that paul was her target from the beginning? mysterious!
he talked about how the concept for paul marion was created, and how at his core, he's just a guy doing a job. his dreamcast for paul would be philip seymour hoffman.
a bit of interesting talk about the 'personality' of the walrider when questioned if miles likes dogs. since his neighbor says they like him, but they reacted violently to his returned presence at his apartment after the mount massive incident, i asked if miles likes dogs as well as they like him. jt and red barrels implied, rather than stating outright, that the walrider itself doesn't like dogs. it was also mentioned that it's very protective and overly defensive, very attached to one person, and unwilling to share. interesting attributes given to something that isn't supposed to be sentient. (edit: later confirmed by jt in one of the anniversary q&a videos to be a sort of sentient hive mind.)
simon peacock is named after the voice director the character himself was voiced by at the end of whistleblower. however, unlike the real simon peacock, the fictional simon is not from new zealand. is he faking an accent? his character will also be further explored as the story continues!
MISCELLANEOUS:
i knew that trials was a topic that couldn’t be talked about, but still suggested my theory on the story connecting back to the mkultra documents found in mount massive in the first game. jt asked if i was someone from red barrels trying to get him in trouble. i think this speaks for itself. :)
he has a giant pet lop bunny named holly! 10/10! would donate to the cause again just for her!
red barrels said that they’re still accepting merch ideas before reopening the store, and to message them if there’s anything in particular anyone would be interested in seeing. the physical copy of the comics will be restocked in the future, and they may restock other items previously seen in the store. they like to make joke merch, too, so keep that in mind!
and that’s about everything outlast related that i can recollect! is there anything you guys are excited about in particular? personally, i’m totally psyched about the hints towards resolving the comics, and the importance of the marions going forward, since they’ve been my favorite characters for quite a long time. feel free to correct anything here if i've misquoted. it's been a few weeks, and my original notes were very short and to the point.
#outlast#outlast 2#the murkoff account#red barrels#outlast trials#the outlast trials#murkoff corporation#miles upshur#waylon park#realized i never transferred this from reddit lmao. enjoy.
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Hey can you talk about the Agreste family. Four seasons have passed by and still we don't know anything about them. Why did Emilie use the Peacock Miraculous? How did Gabriel and Emilie find the Miraculous? What's the deal with the Graham de Vanilys? What about Nathalie and Gorilla? And how do the Bourgeois' and Tsurigis fit into this?
You know what's really interesting about the Parent Generation of Miraculous? How so many of them are connected. There's a reason people have hypothetically wondered if maybe Sabine or Tom could be connected to the rest as well, because so many Parent Generation characters are connected to another Parent Generation character in fictional version of the Six Degrees of Separation. Audrey was the one who kickstarted Gabriel's fashion career. Gabriel makes business deals with Tomoe. Emilie acted in André's film debut. André works closely with Roger. Roger is familiar with Anarka. Anarka is Jagged's ex. It's a very interwoven web and it also establishes that the kids' parents have pasts. They had lives before they were just Parental Units.
The Agreste/DeVanilly family is an interesting target of speculation, but a lot of the theorizing I've seen has focused on merely very surface level stuff. This is mostly because the Miraculous fandom in general has a preoccupation with treating pretty obvious facts as mysteries to be solved. For example, people are so focused on asking "Does Chloé deserve a redemption?" (it doesn’t matter, her arc will be what the plot requires) that they rarely wonder what’s up between Audrey and André even when we got blatant confirmation that Audrey cheated on André. Similarly, people are so busy asking "Does Gabriel love Adrien?" (yes, but selfishly) that they don't wonder what part Emilie played in Adrien's upbringing, even though Adrien’s abuse was going on even before she disappeared.
Emilie, Audrey and Tomoe all have suspicious things to them in the show. Audrey is away so much she could have been getting away with anything off screen, including cheating on her husband. She and Tomoe both got cutaways in the scene in 'Feast' where the Guardian Temple made the news. Tomoe's car Tatsu's symbol looks a lot like the symbol on Ryuko and the car is even named "dragon" (these Tomoe details have actually been noticed before but seemed to stop being discussed after season four started airing). Emilie is a nonentity and the only people who speak in her favor are Adrien and Gabriel, both of whom are Unreliable Narrators. Adrien also defends Gabriel, and Gabriel himself is absolutely convinced Adrien is some fragile, demure flower who must be protected specifically from other people, instead of a lonely boy in desperate need of friends. Adrien has been conditioned to excuse his abusers because they love him while abusing him, while Gabriel only sees what he can use to justify acting the ways he does. Of course Adrien would focus on Emilie being a loving mother and of course Gabriel would focus on the things that would confirm her to deserve the things he does in her name in his mind.
Actually, with Audrey's connection to Gabriel and André's to Emilie, in addition to the theory that one of the other actresses for 'Solitude' was Tomoe, my brother theorizes that Audrey, Tomoe and Emilie might all be connected, perhaps some type of villainous trio, like an evil Totally Spies. We have no idea what Gabriel’s role in such a setup would be, but his villainy would probably be entirely separate from theirs.
Then we get to the extremely limited Agreste household staff. Nathalie is blindly loyal. She'd literally do anything for Gabriel, including risking her life and committing acts of supervillainy. However, it's implied she only fell in love with Gabriel after seeing just how far he'd go to get Emilie back, meaning it's a new development, but Nathalie has been around for a while, or Gabriel wouldn't trust her with his secrets. What was her loyalty originally based on?
The Gorilla, on the other hand, is more of a symbol than a character. He mostly functions as a way to disrupt or unwittingly aid Adrien’s attempts to sneak off to turn into Cat Noir. Even his Akumatization revolved around this role. If he is in fact mute, he is very similar to guards in fairytales, who'd be struck blind so that they wouldn't view the beauty of whatever they're guiding and be tempted to steal it. I'm saying Gabriel, a man with a whole lot of secrets, hired a man who couldn't tell any tales. It's more a symbolic thing in terms of character design rather than Gabriel's actual in-universe reasoning specifically because other forms of communication also exist, as do languages that don't require spoken words. I mean, four seasons in and the closest thing he has to a name is his job descriptor. He might as well be called The Bodyguard. He’s a symbol.
As for the Graham de Vanilys, hooboy, where do I begin? Amelie’s "I'd smile while I stab you in the back and drink tea while you bleed out on the floor" manner is suspicious enough even without the blatant clues that she taught her son to be a manipulative thief and is proud of him for palming Gabriel's ring based on both his dishonest skills and getting the family heirloom back. Then we add the fact that Félix is, in fact, a master thief in the making, capable of robbing both Adrien and Gabriel without them noticing until they realize they're missing items. Then he moves like a rubberband man while avoiding three Akumas out to end him. Finally, he's fully willing to make a pact with Hawk Moth. He's utterly immoral, has almost superhuman abilities and he's clearly dedicated to the Graham de Vanily heritage. He has his mother's last name, implying his father did as well. The Graham de Vanilys have a family legacy that he's willing to maintain, with his focus on the family rings. And, considering how proud his mother was of his thievery, the family business might indeed be something criminal, most likely related to relieving people of their valuables.
To sum this essay up, we know very few actual facts about any of these characters, but one thing is certain: They All Are Suspicious as Hell.
#miraculous ladybug#miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir#gabriel agreste#emilie agreste#audrey bourgeois#tomoe tsurugi#ml meta#long post
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Fic Roundup (up to 9/26/21)
I'm gonna start collecting fics I've read recently to recommend them, because making trope lists takes too long and many fics fall by the wayside. Let me know if you like this new format!
The fandoms in this list are as follows: Marvel (SamBucky, HTP, SpideyPool, WinterHawk, WinterIron, Stony, Stucky, SpiderShield), DCU (Bane/Blake), Inception (Arthur/Eames), Teen Wolf (Sterek).
A * signifies a particular favorite (though I love all these fics)
Marvel
Sam/Bucky
double back by flowermasters (E, 12K, Post-Endgame, Time Loop, Time Travel)
Sam gets stuck in a time loop. In 1943.
Things could be worse, but they could certainly be better.
Companion piece here: quick time
I'll explain everything to the geese by napricot (Post-Endgame, E, 50K, Sam can talk to birds)
Bucky is so competent that it hurts my feelings is not a rational complaint to have about a person, and yet, after a year of being Captain America and partnering up with Bucky for the new and improved, post-Blip Avengers, that’s kinda how Sam’s feeling.
It’s not great. It maybe leads to Sam making some rash, ill-advised decisions like claiming he has a previously undisclosed superpower, and then getting caught in a web of lies when he ends up actually developing that surprisingly inconvenient superpower. Talking to birds had seemed like a harmless superpower, but it turns out that birds have a lot of opinions, and they don’t hesitate to tell Sam about them, especially when it comes to his supposedly subpar courting skills. Which is ridiculous, because Sam isn’t courting Bucky. Right?
Rumlow/Bucky
**blueprints for a better world series by itallstartedwithdefenestration @astralhux (CATWS, Post-CATWS, Noncon, E, 115K, Dark Main Character)
When Pierce discovers the asset is no longer capable of getting himself hard during recreational use, he tells Rumlow to figure out what the problem is, and to fix it. The solution turns out to be more complicated than anyone expected.
I can't recommend this series enough
Peter/Wade
*Dead Men Walking series by doctorestranged @lazystrawberrymilkshakes (E, 235K, Identity Porn, Slow Burn)
When a series of murders take place, Peter Parker goes undercover in Sister Margaret’s to get intel on Tony Stark’s prime suspect: Deadpool. Peter goes in hoping to get enough information so that Spider-Man can save the day, but like everything in Peter’s life, it becomes a bit more complicated than that and it soon becomes apparent that he might not be the best fit for the job.
All About Chemistry by TwiceBakedPotato @sedatedkoala (No Powers AU, M, CNTW, 74K, Teacher-Student Relationship, Slow Build)
After serving his 20 years in the Marine Corps, Wade Wilson is cashing in his GI Bill and going back to college. He feels like the old man on campus, but that doesn't matter. He likes his classes. He likes learning. And he especially likes his Chemistry professor with the messy brown hair.
Clint/Bucky
Making Me A Habit by Kangofu_CB @kangofu-cb (No Powers AU, T, 20K, Pet Store, Slow Burn, Pining, Misunderstandings)
Bucky is a disabled vet struggling with reintegrating into civilian life. He has a routine and a rhythm, and he doesn't like to let anything - big or small - disrupt it. That all changes the day Bucky finds himself inside CATastrophe, the local pet rescue, recovering from a panic attack in the back room of the shop.
He’s used to walking by the place, not visiting, but the next thing Bucky knows, he’s hanging signs and being used as a climbing tree for a bunch of freshly-acquired kittens. And he just...keeps going back. First for the kittens, then for the disaster shop owner who rescues actual kittens from actual trees and teaches archery as a side-gig, and eventually because he’s hopelessly in love.
(Clint was in love before Bucky ever walked in the door.)
*Nameless by AvaKelly (Post-CATWS, M, 101K, Time Travel, Time Loop, Slow Burn)
A gun is pointed at him before he can even move from his position, the Soldier's metal arm steady in its aim. Clint sighs.
"Nemo," Clint says. "It's tattooed on your wrist, right here," he lifts his right hand and taps his left index finger where his palm ends.
The Soldier's eyes widen. "How do you know this?"
"I put it there."
Glitter, G-Strings and Other Mission Hazards by flawedamythyst @flawedamythyst (T, 16K, Undercover, Stripper Clint)
“Which is why you need me to shake my booty for cash,” said Clint.
“Precisely,” said Coulson. “You’re the only agent we have who wouldn’t need additional training in the skills of an exotic dancer to take on the mission, and we want to get someone in there as soon as possible.”
Clint nodded, shutting the file. “Okay, awesome. I’ll dig out my sequined g-string.”
“You’ll have full access to requisition any costumes you might need,” said Coulson.
A mission requires Bucky to be Clint's back-up as he goes undercover as a stripper, which gets more difficult with every new costume he comes out in.
Paternal Error by EVVS @skylarkevanson (Post-CATWS, T, 33K, Kid Fic, Established Relationship)
Bucky has never once thought of being a parent. Not since the Winter Solider happened.
Until he falls in love with Clint Barton. And that idiot just keeps collecting children for his flock.
Now Bucky has to pretend like he's good at parenting.
Bucky/Tony
Forms of Love by bear_bell (Post-CACW, E, 33K, Split Personalities)
Months after the Avengers' dispute in Germany, the team returns to the US and moves back into the tower. As always, everyone pretends that nothing happened. Tony is just fine with this. He's used to pretending, and he'll be damned if he lets any of them see him flinch.
Tony's the bad guy, after all. He's used to it. He's fine with it. He's good at it.
Only now, there's something far worse loitering around the tower - The Winter Soldier. No one notices the guy at first, but when they do, Tony figures that he should have the soldier's back.
Birds of a feather should flock together, and the bad guys should start a book club.
Steve/Tony
While You Were Sleeping by betheflame @betheflame (No Powers AU, M, 65K, While You Were Sleeping AU)
It's been years since Steve Grant Rogers Drysdale has spoken to his twin, Ransom. So it was quite a shock when he was summoned to a hospital and found out that Ransom was in a coma.
Even more shocking? That Ransom is engaged. To Tony Stark.
Steve/Bucky
The Road Goes Ever On And On by PipGraham (Omegaverse AU, M, Noncon, Graphic Violence, 20K, Road Trip, Pre-Serum Steve, Past Domestic Violence)
When Brock's continued domestic abuse puts not only Steve's life in danger, but also that of his unborn pup, he flees into the night with just a small backpack of clothes and almost no money to his name.
Steve quickly runs into trouble as he tries to embark on a 3-day cross-country bus journey back home to New York City.
He meets a kind veteran when he most needs a helping hand.
Just Words by LadyRazzle (crimegimp) @ladyrazzle (Pre-CATFA, Soulmate AU, T, 2K, Fluff)
Inspired by that now legendary post: "soulmate AU where you wake up on your 18th birthday with the first words your soulmate will say to you tattooed on your body so you’ll know them when you meet them." Well what if they appear the moment you turn 18, rather than just the day? And what if by the time you turn 18, you'd already fallen in love?
Bucky wasn’t eager to discover what the words said. He already knew what he wanted them to say. He always had.
Peter/Steve
Forgetting It's There by spinstitcher (stygian) (NR, 8K, Crack, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Porn)
“You’re Captain America,” he blurts out.
“What?” says Captain America, looking a little wide-eyed. He casts a nervous glance at the girl at the counter – he has nothing to worry about there, she’s rocking out to her iPod and could care less what they’re talking about – and says, “No, uh, Steve, it’s just, I’m Steve.”
“Right,” says Peter, and then because his brain-to-mouth filter had apparently been completely destroyed in the fight on Oscorp Tower: “Hey, your butt really is as tight as it looks on TV.”
DCU
Bane/Blake
7 Deadly Ass(as)sins by teacuphuman @teacuphuman09 (AU, E, 23K, BDSM)
Bane and Barsad own a sex shop and John needs a job.
Straws by Menirva (Bane/Blake/Barsad, AU, E, 38K, BDSM)
John works in a smoothie shop.
He has a knack, a second sense if you will, for being able to look at a person and know what they're going to order. It's not the most spectacular gift in the world but he likes being able to figure people out and he's never wrong.
Except for this scruffy asshole who is clearly just ordering the wrong thing to fuck with him.
How is he even finishing an extra-large?
Inception
Aurthur/Eames
Rough Trade by Whisky (whiskyrunner) @whiskyrunner (AU, E, 23K, Internalized Homophobia)
Arthur is an investment banker. He is professional and efficient. He's a halfway decent cook. He's totally independent and has been since the age of eighteen. Maybe he's tired all the time because he works about ninety hours a week which is twice what normal people do, but he's rich and he's competent at his job. He's almost thirty, and already a success.
And there are some things Arthur is not. For instance: Arthur is not gay.
Lucky by earlgreytea68 @earlgreytea68 (M, 37K, Kid fic)
Arthur finds a baby.
Teen Wolf
Stiles/Derek
Cut to the Bone by standinginanicedress (Omegaverse AU, E, 112K, Secret Relationship, Enemies to Lovers kinda)
“Not that it’s any of your god damn business, but my name is Stiles. Do you need something?”
The alpha grins. All teeth, shiny white, straight as an arrow. He’s got this sculpted perfection to him that Stiles is sure has worked on all the omegas he’s ever encountered before, but Stiles stands his ground and narrows his eyes. “A date.”
Stiles looks him up and down, slowly, from the black shoes on his feet, to his uniform khakis and blazer littered with pins, to his face. He frowns, makes a face, and says, “pass.”
Cornerstone by Vendelin (Human AU, E, 83K, Marine Derek, Blind Stiles, Friends to Lovers)
Suffering from PTSD, ex-Marine Derek Hale moves back to Beacon Hills to open a bookshop and find a calmer life. That’s where he meets Stiles, completely by accident. Stiles is talkative, charming and curious. Somehow, despite the fact that he’s blind, he’s able to read Derek like no one else.
Stand Fast in Your Enchantments by DevilDoll, Rahciach (AU, Graphic Violence, E, 76K, Captivity, Feral Derek)
"Stiles knew damn well what a pissed-off wolf sounded like, and every hair on the back of his neck was telling him that somewhere in this room was a very pissed-off werewolf." An AU in which Derek is feral, Stiles is magical, and they eat a lot of fast food.
The Payoff Pitch by Leslie_Knope (Sports AU, E, 83K, Coming Out, Friends to Lovers)
Derek is on the cusp of his second season with the LA Dodgers, and as the reigning runner-up Rookie of the Year, the pressure’s on him to become the team’s star pitcher and lead them to the playoffs for the first time in five years. He’s trying to deal with the burden of expectations and really has zero desire to spend any extra time or energy on anything that isn’t baseball.
But then he meets Stiles.
#fic rec list#sambucky#sambucky fic rec#htp#winterbones#winterbones fic rec#spideypool#spideypool fic rec#winterhawk#winterhawk fic rec#winteriron#winteriron fic rec#stony#stony fic rec#stucky#stucky fic rec#spidershield#spidershield fic rec#arthur x eames#arthur x eames fic rec#bane x blake#bane x blake fic rec#sterek#sterek fic rec#fic roundup
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Hello! Could i request a Sokka imagine where the reader is Tophs older sister who tries to leave her home when Toph join the Gaang? The MC is an outcast in her family, even by Toph. Toph doesnt want her to join because she claims she cant bend so shed be useless, this makes Sokka defend her and she joins along. The real reason shes an outcast in her family tho, is because shes a fire bender, and she has to hide her secret, only reavling the truth by accident after protecting Sokka in battle.
i absolutely loved this concept and i finally managed to finish this fic, i am so sorry for the long ass wait, but i'm starting to catch up on some old requests. hope you like it!
•••
Secrets (Sokka x Fem!Reader)
Warnings: none i think
Genre: Fluff i guess
Fandom: Avatar The Last Airbender
Summary: See request
Word Count: 1938
Reader uses she/her pronouns
•••
Being home was too much for (Y/N). She felt like she was invisible in her own family. The Beifongs had taken her in when she was little, but when they found out that she was a firebender, things changed completely.
When Toph was little, they were quite close, but then her parents managed to break them apart. They'd tell Toph that she was dangerous but also that she was useless because she couldn't bend.
So during the last few years, she felt like an outcast. She would go to the ring most of the time and analyze the movements of the fighters, trying to train herself. She eventually managed to improve her firebending, which had an unique style based on earthbending, but she still had a lot to learn.
She stopped going to the ring once she realized that Toph was the Blind Bandit, she didn't want to run into her outside of the house, but kept practicing on her own.
But suddenly one day the Avatar came to her home. He was looking for an earthbender teacher and she immediately knew that the person he was interested in was Toph. Dinner was a little awkward, but once everyone was ready for bed, things seemed much calmer.
(Y/N) was outside the house, enjoying the fresh air of the night when suddenly, she heard her sister talking.
''Even though I was born blind, I've never had a problem seeing. I see with earthbending. It's kind of like seeing with my feet, '' she said. ''I feel the vibrations in the earth, and I can see where everything is-- you, that tree, even those ants. And also my sister around here somewhere,'' she chuckled at her words. Even though they didn't have the best relationship, it was nice hearing Toph call her her sister. It made her feel a bit normal, even if back at the house she was still an outcast.
She stopped paying attention to the two kids and lost herself in her thoughts, but she got out of her trance when she heard an unfamiliar voice. (Y/N) went running back to the house and desperately called her parents.
''What's the meaning of this?'' Asked her father, clearly annoyed at the noise.
''Toph and the Avatar! Someone took them!''
Everyone went outside, following her, and they realized that the captors had left a note.
''If you want to see your daughter again, bring 500 gold pieces to the arena,'' read the girl from the Water Tribe. ''And it's signed 'Xin Fu and The Boulder.'''
''Master Yu, I need you to help me get my daughter back.''
''We're going with you,'' said the waterbender.
''I wanna go, too,'' said (Y/N). She was looking at her father as the words left her mouth.
''No, you can't come, (Y/N), you-.''
''I don't care. I know you've broken the relationship between me and Toph, but she's still my sister and I want to go.''
''You're not a bender, (Y/N), it would only be for the worse.''
''You know I can help,'' she muttered, knowing that her father knew what she meant.
There was a small pause while they shared a look. ''Fine, you can come, but don't try to do anything you might regret.'' He walked away from her and soon they all headed towards the arena.
Once Toph was free, her father finally saw what she was capable of. The way back to the house was awkward, to say the least.
After the conversation that Toph had with her father, there was a bigger tension in the house than usual.
A few moments later, (Y/N) heard some noise close to her room, and when she opened the door a little, she realized that her sister was escaping. She considered the idea of staying home, of being the only Beifong daughter and she couldn't think of something worse.
So as fast as she could, she changed her clothes to something more comfortable and ran quietly outside.
"Wait, guys! Please!" Said (Y/N) while running towards the group. "I wanna come too," she told them. "Please?"
She could see how Aang, Katara and Sokka all started nodding with smiles on their faces, but whem she looked at Toph, her expression was completely different.
"You can't," said the girl.
"What? Why not?"
"Yeah, Toph, what's the problem?" Asked Katara.
"Look, (Y/N), I don't mean to offend you but why would you even come with us?"
"Because I don't belong here, and you know it."
"You're not a bender, you would only be a liability to us."
"Hey! Don't be like that, Toph!" Exclaimed Sokka.
(Y/N) already had some tears on her eyes but quickly got rid of them. She didn't want the others to see her cry.
Sokka got down from Appa and stood next to (Y/N). "(Y/N) is coming with us, okay? Now let's go, we don't want to waste any time." He grabbed the girl by the arm and helped her get on top of Appa.
During their whole journey away from the Beifongs' house, Sokka and (Y/N) talked a lot.
He liked having someone like him around, it made him feel like he wasn't so alone; and she liked feeling like someone cared a little bit about her.
-
The days went by and (Y/N) could finally tell that she'd found her new family. Even her relationship with her sister had improved significantly since they'd both left home.
Still, no one knew that she was actually a firebender. She hated lying to everyone but she also didn't know how to tell them; in her head, she thought that they wouldn't want her to be with them anymore, she was afraid.
"Hey, (Y/N)," she heard someone say. She looked up and saw Sokka standing next to her. He took a seat by her side. "What are you thinking about?"
"Hi, Sokka. It's nothing, really," she tried to sound convincing but knew that she'd failed. Out of everyone in the group, Sokka was the one she was closest to. She even had a little crush on him, and the fact that she was lying to him was destroying her.
"You always say that but I never believe you."
"I already told you, Sokka, I can't talk about it." She looked at him and he gave her a sympathetic look.
"You can tell me anything, (Y/N). And I promise I won't tell your secret to anyone else."
"No, I can't. You'd hate me if I told you, trust me."
"What? I could never hate you!" He exclaimed and she smiled a little. (Y/N) knew he believed what he was saying, but would it still be true even if he found out what she really was?
Sokka took one of the maps he'd taken from the library, trying to decipher it while still enjoying (Y/N)'s company.
"Waterbending bomb!" Katara yelled from afar, and then everyone saw her get into the water, splashing everyone.
"Sure, 5.000-year-old maps from the spirit library. Just splash some water on 'em," complained Sokka.
(Y/N) couldn't help but giggle a bit at his reaction.
They had to figure out a way to finally get to Ba Sing Se, and The Serpent's Pass seemed to be the only way, but that was until they met a couple that told them about the ferries.
However, the plan was a total failure, so the only option they had left was the dangerous Serpent's Pass.
It wasn't easy, but they eventually made it to the great city of Ba Sing Se. But there was something waiting for them there: a drill with the Fire Nation insignia on it.
It was obvious who was behind that, the Fire Nation princess herself, along with her two friends. Luckily, Sokka came up with a plan, they were going to take the drill down from the inside.
"Okay, we're gonna go with Toph and then we'll get inside of it, okay?" Sokka said.
They all nodded and got ready to go, but the earthbender suddenly stopped for a second.
"(Y/N), I think that you should stay here."
"What?" She was confused. They had been getting along a lot better lately, but that comment took her by surprise.
"You could get hurt, it's not safe. Plus, well, you can't bend and you know that."
"Toph, I can take care of myself, okay? I told you a million times before!"
"I know, but-."
"She's coming with us," interrupted Sokka. "She is one of us and we won't leave anyone behind, okay? And she's not helpless, Toph."
The little girl tried to say something, but the young boy didn't let her.
When they finally reached the drill, Toph stayed outside, and the rest of them went inside.
"I need a plan of this machine. Some schematics that show what the inside looks like. Then we can find its weak points."
"Where are we gonna get something like that?" Asked Aang.
"Maybe we should break something, then some engineer would have to come to fix it," suggested (Y/N).
"Good idea," said Sokka, and he got on with it.
Once they had the map, they knew what they'd have to do, but it wasn't going to be easy.
Aang and Katara had to cut through the braces of the structure, but they turned out to be a lot thicker than they thought. They luckily realized they didn't have to cut all the way through them, instead it was enough with just cutting a little to weaken them.
All of them were focused on the braces, so the only one that noticed the three Fire Nation girls was (Y/N). She realized Azula was about to blast some fire towards Sokka, and she quickly pushed him away and instinctively threw some fire at her, too.
Everyone was shocked, even the three girls that were trying to fight them, but there was no time for explanations.
Katara, Sokka and (Y/N) escaped through the pipeline and even though the battle wasn't over, as soon as they were out of the drill Sokka started interrogating (Y/N).
"You were a firebender this whole time? Why didn't you say anything? And why doesn't Toph know? I mean, she's your sister and- Wait," he made a pause, suddenly realising something. "That was your secret, right?"
She nodded slightly, and looked away to try and hide her blushing face.
"(Y/N), how could you think we would ever hate you for that? That I would hate you?" She could see the hurt in his face, and she hated herself for it.
"The Fire Nation is the enemy, so I guess I figured you wouldn't want me in your team anymore if you found out where I'm really from."
"(Y/N), you can't change where you come from, and we would never hate you for that," said Katara in a sweet voice, still using her bending against Ty Lee.
Sokka wrapped his arms against (Y/N), which took her by surprise, but she quickly wrapped hers around his waist. "Thank you for protecting me back there. And once again, I could never hate you, okay?" They pulled away just a little to look at each other and then he kissed her forehead.
They knew they were still in the middle of a battle and that Katara was just a few meters away from them, but right there in that moment, it didn't matter. It was only (Y/N) and Sokka, wrapped around eachothers' arms, finally starting to realize their feelings for one another.
•••
TAGLIST
@talas-starlight @just-a-belgian-girl @sorrythatspussynal @siriuslyslyslytherin
#sokka#sokka x reader#sokka imagine#sokka fanfic#sokka fic#sokka atla#sokka avatar#atla x reader#atla imagine#atla fanfic#atla#atla sokka#avatar x reader#avatar imagine#avatar fanfic
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