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#( i mean she clearly doesn't mind it but still )
outatmako · 4 months
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season 2 is like...the euphoria of the peak zikki era vs the utter despair of the charlotte era
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levil0vesyou · 8 months
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Having a post get popular enough to be independently reblogged by someone you follow but aren't mutuals with is. Wild
#yes it was the sex poll obvs#given the person is a minor i'm very glad they picked answer one lmao#like i do think minors in general are allowed to want and even have sex (with each other obvs) but when it's a minor i personally follow it#would just make me feel pretty weird lmao. like on a personal level ya feel? i mean when u reach an even closer level it becomes not weird#again like my dear friend ness (17yo) who afaik doesn't actually HAVE any sex but occasionally wants to and i support her hot girl summer.#but as stated this person barely knows i exist i just follow his blog (i used they earlier but this was incorrect but tumblr won't let me e#edit the tag 😔) and he's 16yo so seeing him talk about wanting and/or having sex would have been. uncomfortable. like obvs he'd be allowed#to because my personal discomfort is no indication of morality but you get it. like if my big little cousin (she's 15 now by god the years#don't stop coming) were to talk about sex and stuff to me or within earshot i would ummm. throw myself out the window? but like i'd still t#try to be supportive and if push comes to shove then yes i would give her condoms 😔 cuz like if a minor wants sex i will not be able to sto#stop them lmao but i can at least try and make it somewhat safe y'know#actually i remembered i have literally given a 15yo a condom before lmao she's prolly over 20 now but like as the adult dormmate it was alm#almost like a responsibility y'know like what do you want me to DO?? let her get pregnant?? anyway enough tangent lmao#btw all this is also why in the poll i included 'too young' but didn't specify an age cuz that's individual y'know. some people are p late#bloomers (i was one) while others choose to have consensual sex by 14 y'know. not something i like to think about but that doesn't mean it#won't happen ya feel. i mean what am i the american education system? lmao. so some ppl have interpreted being 17 as too young but there's#also folks like this who clearly consider 16 old enough and that's defo ppl's good right. and again i usually don't mind just the fact that#he in particular is someone i already knew made it uncomfy. but anyway yea back on topic it's very interesting in general when your post#gets big enough to independently make it to ur dash thru a non mutual lmao. love the hellsite honestly where else amirite#personal#mine#ok to rb ig#like the actual body of the post anyway. i'd be pretty uncomfy if said person saw my tags on this cuz y'know it's kind vagueing even if it'#not negative but anyway. anyway#*kinda
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lesbiten · 2 years
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would give anything to see emma-may's reaction to fiddleford telling her he's leaving her and tate for several months to live with ford
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weirdrandomtina · 6 months
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So, I experienced some deju vu during this scene in Trolls Band Together:
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John Dory grabs his backpack, says he's leaving (I'm done, YOLO, etc.), and then the last thing he says is "Goodbye Forever!", followed by Branch's distraught face, and the next thing Branch knows, all his brothers have left him and he never sees them again.
I was trying to figure out why that little snippet stuck with me, then it hit me:
Trolls Holiday in Harmony, when Branch is trying to figure out a gift for Poppy. He's worried about doing the wrong thing, disappointing her or freaking her out, and says "I CAN'T let that happen". He illustrates his point with Poppy packing a suitcase, and what does she say right before she runs off?
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Really brings his abandonment issues into the light😢
I've seen a few comments of people being annoyed when Branch said to Poppy "aren't you going to leave me anyway", but they clearly don't understand how trauma affects people's mental and emotional state.
He knows Poppy loves him and doesn't actually believe she'd leave, but after a lifetime of being alone, even though he's happy and loved now, there's still that subconscious fear that he'll end up alone again. Poppy means everything to him, and he can't bear the thought of losing her too, especially as a result of something he's done (his grandma died to save him, and he believed his brothers leaving was his fault because he 'ruined everything' at the concert).
Sometimes this results in Branch trying to push Poppy away, which seems conflicting, yes, but again: trauma messes with your mind. He was already heartbroken and angry at his brothers, so he wasn't thinking clearly and blurted out his hidden main fear.
And when he says "everyone else [leaves me]" I hear "everyone in my life has left me so I must deserve to be alone, so you might as well leave me too."
And that's probably why Branch was so hesitant to be open with Poppy - 1. I might scare her away, and 2. why bother expressing my feelings to someone when I'll likely just lose them anyway. Plus he's still getting used to having someone to confide to in his life. Keeping emotions bottled up for years is a hard habit to get out of.
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hedgehog-moss · 11 days
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I bought a roll of chicken netting to fence off my vegetable garden—which I haven't planted yet because it's been raining every single day for like two months and I didn't want my young tomato plants to rot, but the weather is finally improving. I'll plant my garden next week, and I wanted to trim the grass around it and clear the area of weeds, but then I remembered I have animals that can do this job.
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So I opened the pasture in front of the (future) garden. Currently it looks like a long pile of dirt, because that's what it is (well, compost + llama manure + dirt)—but look how long it is! I'm feeling ambitious this year and I have quintupled the length of my initial hügelkultur mound.
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You might be surprised to learn that Pirlouit was the first animal who noticed the opening in the fence and got out. It's not actually surprising because Pirou has a fresh grass-dar—but Pampe was very much surprised & vexed.
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Everyone looked really happy to have access to this new little area!
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Initially I thought I would be able to continue preparing the garden while they were eating, but I quickly realised I was too paranoid for that. I mean, it's Pampe vs. a small temporary fence meant for chickens. Enough said. I didn't dare to turn my back on her even for a minute, so I ended up just sitting in the grass next to them with a book, which was really nice.
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Pampe decided to lie down in the grass to eat more comfortably, something Pirlouit still deeply disapproves of.
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Poldine however thinks it's a brilliant idea.
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Update: all my llamas are now horizontal, eating like three Roman emperors. Only Pirlouit continues to mind his table manners.
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Of course this peacefulness couldn't last, and after stuffing herself with new grass for half an hour, Pampe remembered there was also a new fence to think about.
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She decided to lie down again 5 centimetres away from it, so she could inspect it and strategise while maintaining a demeanour of relaxed innocence.
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I was not relaxed.
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You are exhausting.
At 7:30pm I started feeling torn, because I don't like to miss apéritif time but—could I run to the kitchen to get a glass of apéritif and some biscuits and run back before Pampe had time to do anything? (The kitchen is 15 metres away.) (I feel like this detail doesn't change anything and if I inserted a poll here everyone would massively vote "Pampe will have time to escape")
But you would be wrong!! When I returned from my quick and suspenseful dash to the kitchen, guess who was on the verge of doing something illegal...?
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PAMPOLDINE. Bad llama!! She was interested in tasting the flowers on the other side and she was pretty bashful when I shooed her away.
I believe the only reason Pampérigouste didn't escape is because she assumed her daughter was about to, so her family's reputation was maintained, she would get to see me run and curse llamakind and straighten the fence grumpily, and she didn't even have to get up.
Which goes to show that she doesn't escape due to a deep and unquenchable thirst for freedom, but to aggravate me personally.
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I settled on my ash wood throne to have apéritif, comfortably seated in full view of all the animals—
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—so of course Pampe immediately got up and went to inspect the fence on the other end of this little pen, behind the hazel tree that was blocking my line of sight, in the one place that I couldn't see from my seat.
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I had to get up to see what she was doing (and angrily wave a stick in her direction until she moved away) and when I returned to my tree stump there was a little insect swimming in my wine. Pampe lay down again, pleased with herself.
When it was dinner time and I kindly invited everyone to return to the pasture (Pirlouit & Pampelune complied without fuss), Pampe suddenly lay completely flat in the grass, in what was clearly an attempt to make herself invisible and be forgotten all by herself in this barely-fenced area, kind of like children who dream of being locked in a toy shop overnight.
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I haven't taken my eyes off you all evening. Of course I can see you.
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I had to poke her with my stick until she deigned to get up and leave (Poldine followed), but all in all it was a very successful little outing. I might do this regularly throughout the summer to keep the grass trimmed in this area, although the difficulty level will be greatly increased when I have to patrol the fence and protect my vegetables at the same time.
I'll add that when I went out later in the evening to close the chicken coop, Poldine & Pampelune were far away, grazing together under the plum trees, meanwhile Pirlouit and Pampe were still queueing in front of the part of the fence that was previously open. Both waiting for me to let them access this heavenly garden again (but with different motivations)
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stillfrownyclownlol · 6 months
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Gonna throw up If I can't talk about them-
Bunch of Aiden analysis under the cut because he's just SO OBSESSED CODED AND NOBODY TALKS ABOUT IT 😭 (I will be very weird about it)
The way it's so doomed from the start. He's already so fascinated by her. It's in the little jump he does when she sits in front of him, like a secret they're both in on, like her sitting in front of him is some obscure way of her inviting him into a conversation.
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Why is he like this (not positive but not negative either)
He has such a cocktail of personality traits and, most certainly, mental disorders, and his own history that makes it so, when he's in love, that it WILL blow up in his face.
The fact that he's been homeschooled for his entire life- he has no idea. HE DOESNT EVEN KNOW. He doesnt realize that its not normal. of course he doesn't :( His parents obviously leave him alone for long stretches of time and he doesn't seem to mind this. He hasn't had the chance to develop his social skills at all-
It's why he's so, let's be real, creepy. Ash makes it very clear she's not interested and he just keeps worming his way into her life. He plots so that she'll go on the field trip, he follows her around, he goes to her fucking house on the first day. LIKE, HELLO? RED FLAG?
He's having evil thoughts here I swear 💀
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And already so quickly after meeting her he makes Ash his priority. He asks to sit next to her, he engages and makes an effort to talk to her. Tries to joke around with her. Gives her a nickname. Touches her. He's so touchy.
And defends her!!! When Tyler gets pissed at Ash, he honestly goes off on him even tho he KNOWS Ash can defend herself- and he's so...dark about it. There's a threat hidden behind his words. He's MAD here, right? Tell me I'm not crazy, please-
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He also very clearly has violence on the forefront of his mind 💀 He's the first one to actively attack the phantoms; not to defend himself, not to defend somebody else (well, he pulls Ash out of the way), but for fun. And he's disappointed when they don't scream. He's sadistic, he likes causing pain, it's something he relishes in.
I mean look at how he smiles!!! None of the other kids have such an...active ENJOYMENT in fighting the phantoms, but for Aiden, it's almost like he finds relief in it, some way to vent out his frustrations. He's eager for a fight, for a thrill.
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That's how Aiden sustains himself, he pretty much operates under "I'm here for a good time, not a long time." Everything he does gives him a boost of adrenaline, no matter the consequences. He got into a fight? Eh, who cares about all the bruises, at least it got his blood rushing. Broke a bone while doing parkour or smth? Whatever, the way his stomach dropped when he was falling as totally worth it.
It's a very dangerous mentality to live with, obviously. He's an adrenaline junkie. He's an addict. More than anything else, Aiden wants something that makes him feel alive.
And what makes you feel more alive than love?
Like not to minimise or anything but he's known her for like. 2-3 months- and he's already SO scared of losing her. Like I just don't think he would have had this type of reaction with anybody else besides Ben. He would have absolutely lost his shit if Ash 'died'.
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He's a straight up love junkie. He's obsessive. Nothing beats the high love can give you. It overrules everything else. If Ash (or whoever he's interested in) feels bad because of smth, he's done with it.
He LIKED dying. He LIKED the adrenaline rush. But he won't do it again. Not because he had some realization that he didn't want to die, that he still wanted to live and do things, but because Ash was upset. Because this, this rush of care from her part, the way she was so scared of him dying that she was shaking, nothing could fill the hole in his heart better than that. And now that he has a taste for it, he won't let go easy. He will keep on living- if it means Ash will be by his side.
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Which is a very dangerous position to put her in. Ash already feels responsible for her friends, and she doesn't even know that Aiden has "put" his life in her hands, not that it's her responsibility, because it isn't, but she will certainly feel responsible if Aiden does something FOR her.
Like He's so fucking obsessed and he doesn't even realize it- like look at how he sees her 😭 THE HEAVENLY GLOOOOOOW, LIKE SHES AN ANGEL AND HE THINKS SHE CAN SAVE HIM. BABY SHE CANT, YOU HAVE TO SAVE YOURSELF.
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He could spiral so fucking bad. He could do some absolutely heinous things. Because he just doesn't know. He doesn't know how to love truly, yet. For him love really is that rush of adrenaline, the knife carving out his heart, he could be putty in her hands, or her executioner. This love that can be so obsessive, that he NEEDS it to function, like its water, like its the air he breathes. Its a compulsion, a fixation, a longing that burrows into your very soul. Ash doesn't even know what she's getting herself into-
Godddddd, it makes me so sick/ pos, it's SO FUCKING INTERESTINGGGGGG. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH.
I literally cannot function around this drawing 🫠
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The. The hand. That way he's grabbing her. He's pulling her back. Towards HIM. like "this is mine. And I'm not sharing." And that little fucking look in his eyes, he just looks SO fucking pleased with himself. And Ash looks so...resigned. they're so doomed-coded, i love them so bad.
I don't know how I was supposed to NOT make a killer au, when he's just...like that around her.
Love is a wonderful thing. But love is also cruel, it is vicious, it is possessive and obsessive, and it will leave carnage in its wake.
Romantic love is an obsession. It possesses you. You lose your sense of self. You cannot stop thinking about another human being. -Helen Fisher
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prismatoxic · 1 month
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you know... this is framed as such a silly moment that i didn't really consider it before but...
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...laios was the only one who respected chilchuck in this scene.
and of course we know why senshi and marcille didn't. senshi still thinks that's child age, as dwarves' age of maturity is 40, a good 20 years older than chilchuck is. and senshi doesn't have the kind of worldly socialization marcille does that lets her understand in any way that chilchuck is an adult (and even then, she sees him as more of a child than she should, because elven age of maturity is 80 and, well. her relationship with time and aging is weird, let's put it that way). she treats him more like a grown man than senshi does, but it's not saying much. (this isn't a diss against either of them, their backstories more than explain why they're like this, and chilchuck doesn't seem to generally hold it against them except when senshi very openly treats him like a kid.)
laios, though. laios is a tall-man. his age of maturity (16) is only 2 years higher than a half-foot's (14). when chilchuck said "this year i turn 29," laios realized chilchuck was his senior and tried to adapt to treating him that way. (in the context of this series being written by a japanese person, this concept holds a lot of extra weight.)
of course, that wasn't actually what chilchuck wanted, and laios resumed treating chilchuck like a peer instead. (remember, chilchuck clearly defines his boundaries, and laios will happily abide by a clearly drawn boundary. a distressed and angry "quit" is taken 100% at face value.) and what's notable about that is that "laios treating chilchuck like a peer" was already valuing him as an adult. even if he didn't know the exact number, laios knew chilchuck was at least around his own age.
i imagine traveling with dandan helped him understand half-foots enough that his blunders when he and chilchuck started working together weren't generally disrespectful in nature. laios would have been able to wrap his mind around "half-foots aren't kids unless they actually say they are" because laios likes clearly defined rules. chilchuck is an adult? okay, he gets treated like one.
and i think it's just as much them both being short-lived races; if he can wrap his head around "height ≠ age" then he also understands whatever age chilchuck is has to be roughly comparable to his own.
and i just think that's neat! i think it's cool how much laios respects chilchuck and there's a sort of irony to the fact that moments like this are, in chilchuck's eyes, more of a nuisance than a sign of respect. but i mean... laios already treats him right. he doesn't need to do anything different.
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luveline · 7 months
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I'm in an angsty mood.. and I love love love Spencer x bombshell!reader.
maybe she gets hurt somehow (maybe like an unsub or something) but refuses to get checked out
ty for requesting!! sry this isn't super angsty 
cw criminal minds typical gun violence
Blood is a strange thing. It can run quickly or slow, feel tepid or burning hot. It's warm and uncomfortable as it slinks down the curve of your shoulder to the very tip of your index finger, dark as coal pitch in the poor lightning. 
The gunfight is promptly ended, so quickly that no one even knows you've been hit. Morgan throws himself at one unsub and the other is shot in the thigh. Your ears ring, a gun firing too close to your head, clearly. 
In all the hubbub, nobody notices you're hurt. 
You'd like to keep it that way. 
It's not that you believe you're infallible, nor that the others believe it either, but in the grand scheme of things it is a very small cut that you can attend to in your hotel room alone with a butterfly stitch or even a roll of bandages. There's no way it requires real stitches, and no way you're gonna sit in the back of an ambulance for the next hour. 
Your jacket is black. The wound clots itself while you're in the SUV —you choose a window where your arm faces away from everyone and you manage it. And truthfully… you would like the others to think you're smarter than getting hit by a stray bullet. After everything that's happened lately, you've reason to build yourself up. Let the others hold you in some prestige again. 
It works for a time. You get back to the hotel, and everyone says goodnight. Your room is clean and waiting for your return. 
You'd collapse into bed if it didn't mean you'd leave a bloody line on the linens. You shed your ruined jacket and throw it in the trash. Your shirt is split where the bullet nicked you, and that comes off next. The wound begins bleeding sluggishly at the agitation but doesn't erupt, and stays strong as you wipe the skin clean around it. Your fingers mar with copper stain, the face cloth you've sacrificed turning an ugly brown, but eventually you've cleaned the skin enough to see the damage. 
It's deep but small. A nick. 
The issue is your lack of bandages. It's a hotel room, a small one. There's no first aid kit and your go bag is sorely lacking. Which means… 
You have to go bat your eyelids at someone, and if you're being honest, you only ever want to do that to one Dr. Spencer Reid. 
He's not expecting you, clearly. You weren't expecting it either. "Hey," he says, rubbing his eyes, his pyjama pants flush to the floor. 
"You were sleeping? I'm sorry." 
"Don't be sorry, are you kidding me?" He opens the door wider to encourage you in, turning away from you as he murmurs, "S'like my dream." 
He must be very tired. You beam like a fool and follow him inside. "I had a dream like this once, too. Same kind of dream, do you think?" 
"Knowing you, probably." He's growing more comfortable with you, but he's still clearly a little flustered to be this suddenly presented with you, wrapping himself up in a cardigan hanging over the single sad chair. "What's up?" 
"I'm glad you asked." You take your uninjured arm out of your coat, and then the other. You know what you're doing, laughing softly as his eyes turn to dark dimes in an otherwise pale face. "I need your help with something, Spence." 
"Uh–" He stammers, looking you up and down with shock. "Um, I–" He licks his lips quickly. "Okay." 
You kind of hate that you aren't there to seduce him for a split second. Too bad your arm has started to throb. "I need a bandaid," you say, turning your arm into his line of sight. "Help me out?" 
"I know something you don't know," Morgan sing-songs. Emily sips her coffee, mildly interested by her friend's taunting. She doesn't give him any feeding, waiting, and sure enough he cracks. "What, you don't want to know?" 
"You want to tell me, right?" 
"Mm, no. I'll tell Penelope." 
"Fine! Alright, what is it?" She breaks, putting her coffee down on the little table in front of her. They're sitting in the hotel lobby waiting for Hotch and the others to collect their things. The jet awaits, as do a few hours in the air before she gets to sleep in her own bed again. 
"I saw–" Morgan laughs. "This is too good. I saw a certain bombshell visiting Reid last night. After hours."
Emily's heart kicks in. "No way!" she gasps. "I mean, I know there's something between them, we all know that, but– his room, seriously?" 
"He didn't even question her. She knocked, he answered, she went inside." 
"What were you doing up?" 
"That's my business," Morgan says. 
Emily leans forward to gossip. This is insane. Sure, you flirt with Spencer relentlessly, and sure, he blushes like he loves it the majority of the time, he even manages to get you back, but you're sleeping together? "This is so scandalous," she whispers. 
Her job is hard, but God does Emily love her team. She's genuinely happy for you both, but seriously! She giggles to herself at the drama of it all, and Morgan looks like he might say more, but then he looks behind her and stops. 
Emily turns. You and Spencer are walking out of the elevator together, and while you aren't looking more coupled than usual, Spencer's acting unusually. "You're sure you're okay?" he asks, hushed but carrying in the relatively quiet lobby. 
"I promise I'm okay, Spence." Your voice drops. "It's our secret, okay?" 
"Sure, but–" He takes your hand, there, where everyone can see, the love in the line of his shoulders clear to anyone who might be watching, which Emily and Morgan very much are. "Can I look at it again?" 
Morgan laughs into his hand, hiding it with a cough too late. Emily kicks his leg and he looks admonished, but it doesn't convince you where you look up from your conversation, the same surprise written in your features as Emily herself feels while Spencer continues, "You need to let me take care of you," he says, practically pleading. 
"Spencer," you say, looking Emily straight in the eye, "you took care of me just fine last night." 
She gawps. 
Spencer whispers in response to your lowered tone, making his answer partially inaudible, "It was my first…" He shakes his head. "I've never…  and I know you said it didn't hurt that much but… go see a doctor–" 
You stop him with an affectionate smile. "You could never hurt me, handsome. Do I look like I'm in pain?" 
"No." Spencer drops your hand. "If you're sure. Let me go get you a drink, okay? Go sit down." 
"Yes sir." 
Nothing about you says anything different to usual as you sit on the lobby chair next to Morgan's, beside your worn hoodie. You fiddle with a fraying sleeve as you kick one leg over the other, giving your friends a pleased smile. "Morning," you say lightly. 
Emily genuinely doesn't know what to say. Her mouth hangs slightly ajar. "I…" 
"You're shameless," Morgan says with a laugh. 
"Look," you say, shrugging though the action makes you wince, "I could tell you the truth and you wouldn't believe me." 
"Sure we wouldn't. Reid looks like a lost puppy right now." 
Spencer stands anxiously by the coffee machine across the way, his gaze locked solidly on you where you sit. You throw him a smile and he looks away. 
"I don't deserve him," you say softly. 
Spencer carries your bag for you all the way to the BAU. Emily doesn't think it's a question of deserving, though you do, only an example of Spencer's big heart. And, you know, post hookup appreciation, or something. 
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So High School (1/2)
Bucky Barnes x f!reader
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synopsis : the one wherein the reader and Bucky navigate the initial stages of falling in love, and well, it feels a whole lot like high school <3
themes : friends to lovers, slight jealousy, Bucky and the reader are Avengers, everyone is alive!
word count : 2k ▪︎ masterlist
a/n : inspired by Taylor Swift's So High School - that song makes me so fuckin happy I can't even begin to explain it... This fic is all giddy and warm, kind of like when you have a crush, playfulness and jealousy abound 💙
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You are almost certain that you left your beloved leather jacket back on the quinjet.
The mission made you exhausted, like they always do, and you remember taking your jacket off and settling in for a nap on the ride back to the Avengers compound.
"FRIDAY, is the quinjet still at base level?" you ask aloud to the compound's omnipresent AI overseer.
She chimes in straight away, "Yes, the quinjet is undergoing routine checks downstairs."
"Well," you say to yourself, "I could use the walk."
FRIDAY speaks again, unprompted, "There is one James Buchanan Barnes heading to your door right now."
Bucky? "Oh, right now?"
"Yes, he'll be knocking in 3... 2... 1..."
And sure enough, he does.
You open the door to his sheepish, easy smile. FRIDAY would definitely be picking up on your vitals, noting your clammy hands and jumping heartbeat.
You desperately hope that she would shut up about it, otherwise you might just literally throw hands with Tony.
"Hi," he greets. Just that - just 'hi' - and he has you blushing like a schoolgirl. Damn it.
"Hey," you reply. Glancing down, you realise that he has just what you're looking for.
The jacket. You mean your jacket. Mind out of the gutter, you kick yourself internally.
"I, uh, think you left this back at the - "
" - the quinjet."
"Right, and I, well - " he stammers, and you don't understand why, when you're clearly the nervous one here.
"You're... here to give it back to me," you help him out, smiling.
"Yeah," he nods, smiling back at you. Leaning against your doorframe, he stays right in place, and you suddenly feel conscious by the way he's just looking at you.
"Uhm, Bucky?" you break the silence after a while, anxiously laughing.
"Yeah, doll?"
"My jacket?" you hold out your hand expectantly.
"Oh, here," he quickly hands it over to you, and you thank him. But he stays, rubbing the back of his neck, brows furrowed in thought. "Listen, I was wondering if - "
"There you two are!" Sam's booming voice startles you, and you spot him walking down the hall. "Debriefing time, kids, come on."
"Oh, right," you groan, tossing your jacket somewhere behind you. Shutting your door, you turn to Bucky, "Sorry, Buck, can it wait?"
"Can what wait?" Sam butts in, ears like a bat. He nudges Bucky with his shoulder, and you swear you see Bucky glare at him, while blushing all the while.
"Nothing," he mumbles and the three of you make your way towards the elevators. When Sam becomes distracted by some new panelling Tony installed recently, you catch Bucky's eye, and shrug as if to say - you can tell me later.
He simply nods. When the doors open, you feel his hand on the small of your back, guiding you in. Just for the briefest of moments, but it lingers in your mind.
So much so, that Tony tosses a pencil at you during debriefing when you're spaced out and didn't answer his question.
"Daydreaming, princess?" Tony smirks.
"Leave her alone, Tony," Steve comes to your rescue, ever the considerate leader. "She's tired, just like the rest of us."
"Yeah, sure," Tony shrugs. "Or maybe Bionic Man over there is distracting her with all the staring he does."
"Shut up, Tony," Natasha protests, catching your surprised look.
"I'm not staring," you hear Bucky say.
"Oh, man, you stare all the time. At everything," Sam counters. "Especially at her."
"No. I don't."
"Yes, you do. Doesn't he, Steve?" Sam laughs, twisting around to share the joke with Steve, who just fondly shakes his head, patting Bucky on the shoulder.
Your mouth feels dry, face flushed from the suggestive bickering partially at your expense, and when you ask, "Alright, alright, what was your question, Tony?"
Tony cheekily smirks, and says, "Quick, Barnes, look away."
"Oh, god," you tilt your head back and stare at the ceiling.
It's a collective, "Tony!" that followed, likely from Steve and Nat. Possibly Bruce, too.
Tony asks you again, something about the safety measures in place for the civilians left behind.
When you answer his question, you can't help but feel a certain pair of blue eyes looking at you.
But that means nothing, right? Bucky's just listening to whatever you have to say. The mission had been important, after all.
Five minutes later, in the middle of Bruce's explanation, you feel it again.
So you look to the side, only slightly, catching Bucky quickly turning to draw his attention back at Bruce.
Oh.
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"What are you smirking at me for?" you approach Natasha, while tightening your hand wraps. Some of the Avengers have convened for routine combat practice. You've been looking forward to it, mostly being cooped up in the two weeks after the recent mission.
Natasha sports her signature knowing look when she says, "You're paired with Barnes today, milochka moya."
"Bucky? And?" you clear your throat, and you clock Bucky and Sam entering the gym in your periphery. Is it just you or did your voice just crack? No, it couldn't have.
There's no reason to be nervous, no reason at all.
Sure, he'll get all sweaty and he'll have to get his hands on you and he'll get close... very close... pressed against...
"I see I've lost you already," Natasha is quick to note. "And we haven't even started yet."
Wanda joins you, greeting with, "Did you know you'll be paired with Barnes today?"
Oh my god. You exclaim, "Why is everyone making a big deal out of it?"
"Because," is all Wanda responds with.
"Thanks, Wanda," you nod sarcastically. "Thank you both. Can we just get this over with?"
"Guys?" you call out loudly, addressing everyone in the room.
"Yes, everyone. It is best if we start," Vision says, him being the supervisor for training today. Leave it to an all-knowing entity to be well-versed in every fighting art in existence.
He reads off the combat pairings for the day, and their assigned fighting style.
Clint and Nat, krav maga.
Wanda and Sam, aikido. Though to be fair, she doesn't really need to use her fists should it come to that. Wanda's powers were beyond your comprehension. This is mostly just a fun little exercise for her.
And finally, Vision says your name followed by Bucky's, with the fighting style of jiu-jitsu.
That damned close-contact sport. You're well-trained in it, thanks to your job, but it involves a lot of straddling and the opponent heavily breathing down on your face. It wasn't exactly your first choice out there in the field.
But here? Well, it seems like you don't really have a choice.
Well, you do. And would you really choose otherwise?
Close contact with Bucky?
"Hey, doll," he walks right over, all prepped and ready. Clad in a black compression shirt and grey sweatpants. One look at him and you know you're not likely to survive this training session.
"You ready to get your ass kicked?" you cheekily say, as you to walk over to your designated area of the room with him right on your tail.
He smiles, mumbling something which sounded like, " - let you do anything you want to me."
"I'm sorry?" you blurt out, occupying yourself with the control panel for the instructional hologram.
"Nothing," he bites his lip. Oh, he just knows you heard him.
"Okay, so - " The hologram starts right up, showing faceless figures go through a standard combat routine. Ankle sweep. Closed guard. Arm bar. Back and forth until someone taps out. Then all over again.
"Fun," you remark, moving to circle him on the mat. "Give it your best shot, Barnes."
He makes the first move, trying to sweep your leg with his own and failing. You're too quick for that. As long as you don't get sidetracked by that shit-eating smirk on his face, you'll be just fine.
He rushes at you again, but you jump out of the way. You manage you hook your leg around his torso, and use your whole weight to force him down on the mat.
You end up with one knee pressed to his chest, your forearm applying the slighest pressure on his throat. It's an easy position to counter, and he should be propelling you off of him already. Maneuvering your arm out of the way. Something. Anything.
But the man just stares.
You'll be damned, but Sam was right.
"Bucky, come on," you snap.
Instead of a countermove, he hits you with something more disarming. "You look good up there," he says.
"What?"
"I like the view," he only adds, speeding up the rush of warmth to your face.
Your body goes slack, and your pressure on his neck eases. You struggle to think of something nonchalant, something blasé to say in turn, when he takes advantage of the moment and flips the two of you over.
He ends up on top of you, legs caging you in, hands gripping your wrists by the sides of the face.
"Shit," you curse when you realise what just happened. "Well played."
"Thanks," he responds. "I meant it though, you do look pretty. Like always."
"Another trick, Buck?" You attempt to play it cool. Maybe you can play off the obvious flush on your face as physical exertion. Not whatever this is. Not because of him.
He only smiles, getting back on his feet and extending a hand out to you.
"Not a trick," he says, as you both get ready for the next round.
"I'd say I'm flattered, if you weren't trying to beat me in hand-to-hand combat."
"Doll, I think it's safe to say that you won already," he says, his gaze softening.
What is he on about? "Uhh, no, that was barely anything. We're supposed to keep going."
His brows furrow, though his smile stays in place, albeit a bit strained. "That's not what I meant," he exhales, reaching forward to attempt a restricting hold.
His expression turns serious then, steely gaze boring into you, analyzing your every move. He lunges at you, and you block him. But he tries again and again, each move more precise and forceful.
He steps back to take a breath, and you use the opportunity to sweep his ankle, but he sees it coming. In a flash, he pulls your arm and twists you around so that your back is pressed to his chest. You wrangle against him, making him fall on his back, but he keeps his hold on you.
His metal arm encases your torso with your arms pinned to your sides, and his legs wrap around yours. Air rushes out of you in shaky pants, and you move your head to the side, the only part of you still mobile.
And he's right there, the tip of his nose brushing against your cheek. The tension is almost too much to bear, because you feel all of him - the solid planes of his torso, the coarseness of his facial hair growing out - and for the love of all things sacred, you hope you don't accidentally wriggle your ass against his crotch.
Bucky wishes so too. He would never be able to live that down, especially if one of the others would come around and notice.
"Do you yield?" His voice is rough, commanding against your ear. Even though it's nothing more than an assertive whisper, a shiver runs through your body.
"Y-yes," you muster, "I yield."
He keeps his hold on you a moment longer, and before you can ask him if something's wrong, and why he's not letting you go yet, he releases you.
And it doesn't bring you relief, surprisingly. Almost as if you just want to go right back into his embrace.
As you two get back on your feet, Vision's sudden appearance almost makes you keel over, startling the living daylights out of you.
"That was good," Vision comments.
"What the - Vis!" you place a hand on your chest to calm down. "Maybe announce yourself when you show up please!"
"But I've been standing here for approximately 37 seconds," he expertly says.
"Okay, well - "
"You both did not notice me," he goes on, matter-of factly. "Perhaps it might have something to do with your sheer focus on one another - "
"Okay, Vision, thank you," you attempt to intervene, to no avail.
" - which is good. In combat, you do need to stay hypervigilant. Although, might I comment, that the sudden increase in arousal hormones is not really conducive to battle - "
"Vision!" you and Bucky exclaim in unison.
Thankfully, Wanda notices and comes to your rescue, "O-kay, Vis, why don't you come and check mine and Sam's progress, hmm?"
"Of course," Vision complies immediately and they walk away hand in hand. Must have something to do with his undying penchant for Wanda.
Wanda throws you an apologetic shrug, before her eyes get drawn downward to something else near you, and she has to bite her lip to hold back a giggle.
You feel Bucky's hand take hold of your waist, ever so gentle, and everything else is quickly forgotten.
"You okay?" he asks, the ghost of a smile on his lips.
He stands close, and you catch a hint of his scent, sandalwood and mint, layered beneath a musk that can only be undeniably Bucky.
You hum in affirmation. Shaking you head, you respond with, "Vision was just being... Vision. Can never keep his observations to himself." His thumb moves, caressing lightly at your waist, the movement seemingly instinctive for him.
"Yeah, well," he smiles to himself, before reaching up and tucking back a stray lock of hair from your face, "the thing about that droid is... he doesn't lie."
He steps back, rolling his shoulders, getting ready for another bout of combat. As if he didn't have you subdued already.
"He wasn't lying about me, at least," he smirks, before getting into a stance and putting his arms up.
Feeling brave, because there's no way you're going to come out of this interaction as the only one flustered, you respond with, "He wasn't lying about me, neither."
Bucky doesn't expect that, used to being the suave and cockier one out of this dynamic. His fighting stance loosens, and he barely croaks, "What?"
Gotcha.
It doesn't take long for you to sweep him off his feet.
When you're left straddling him once more, you hit him back with, "I like the view."
He bites his lip, and then laughs, flushed and impressed.
Still on the ground, staring up at you, he decisively ends the match, the final blow too much for you to bear. Because he settles for saying, "Still doesn't beat my view, beautiful."
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After more than an hour of fidgeting around your room, clothes strewn everywhere and music blasted to calm you down, you were finally ready.
Bucky had asked you what you were doing for the weekend, and you said you didn't have anything in mind, but asked him if he wanted to watch a movie in the common lounge with you.
He eagerly agreed, before you two were interrupted by Sam mentioning something about new upgrades to Red Wing.
So you didn't get to clarify what the nature of the plan was. Likely it was just another hangout. It wouldn't be the first time you and Bucky watched a movie together, went on excursions on your motorbikes, or headed out to grab some sushi.
Save for Natasha and Wanda, he's the one you spend the most time with.
And none of those times ever was a date.
But you feel nervous as you walk down the hallway. You've been nervous all the while you spent getting ready, unable to choose the right top, and eventually settling for a V-neck cobalt blue shirt that he once said he liked on you.
You're nervous because tonight could be it. You've taken it upon yourself to finally ask him.
Ask him what exactly? Whether he likes you as someone more than a friend? Whether there is a reason to all that staring that he does?
Whether he wants to kiss you as badly as you want to kiss him?
So, something along those lines.
He's standing right around the entrance to the common lounge, and you immediately think at how sweet it is that he's waiting for you.
Until he broke the news.
"Doll, I - " Bucky says, right after you come into view. "Oh, wow, you look great."
Smiling widely, you look down like it was nothing, like you didn't just spend the last hour worrying. "Thanks, Buck."
"Uhh, I have something to tell you, actually. You remember Yori? The man from - "
"Of course I remember him," you nod, now confused at what he's getting onto.
"Yeah," he hesitates, not sure he wants to speak further. All he wants is to spend the night curled up in the lounge with you, but all that is gone when he continues, "he kind of set me up on a date."
"A date?" your stomach sinks.
"With Leah. You know Leah? The girl who works at the restaurant that we go to sometimes with Yori?"
"Yeah," you shrug and look away, hoping your expression doesn't give away too much, "I know who she is. So you have a date, huh?"
"Tonight," he confirms. "I didn't... didn't even ask her, really. But last night at dinner, Yori asked and she heard and said yes - "
"She's really lovely. This is good, Buck."
"Yes, but we made plans, and I didn't want to - "
"No, don't worry about it." you put your palms up, as if to show him that you take the situation lightly. It was no problem, after all. He has to go on this date. You can watch movies together any time.
"Doll," he sighs. "I was actually thinking that, since we had plans already, you could come with me? I'm sure she would understand - "
"Bucky," you laugh dryly, "I am not crashing your date."
"But - "
"No buts," you have to affirm. "You have a date, so it has to be just you and her."
He purses his lips, nodding. He tries to gauge your expression, whether you're pissed at him or anything, but he's only met with a reassuring smile.
"What time is your date?" you ask.
"In about 40 minutes," he replies, giving you a good once-over again, taking you in fully. You really looked good, and he wants nothing more than to just stare at you the whole damn night. If only he wasn't so polite. If only he had the guts to just turn Leah down.
His face falls when you say, "I guess you better go," with a hint of enthusiasm, not knowing that it's your attempt at putting on a brave face.
"What will you do?" he asks.
"I don't know," you shrug. "I'm sure I'll find something. The others are mostly around so - "
"Hey!" Steve rounds up the corner, still clad in his riding jacket, having returned from outdoors.
"Going somewhere, you two?" Steve asks, his signature congenial smile in place.
"Not me," you respond, smiling back. "But Bucky here has a date actually."
"A date?" Steve says, taken aback. Did Bucky not tell him about this? He looks between the two of you, trying to put things into place, "Do you mean - ?" He trails off, gesturing at you.
"No!" A nervous laugh bubbles out of you. Of course, not with you. You wish.
"Really?" Steve makes a face, like the thought of Bucky going on a date with someone else was ridiculous, but he quickly collects himself. It's none of his business, for now. But he'll surely grill his bestfriend on it later.
"Don't you have to leave, Buck?" you turn to him. "You don't want to keep Leah waiting."
"Yeah, I suppose I should. I'll, uh, talk to you later, okay?" He says, taking a few measured steps back. Not wanting to turn away, and have you out of his sight.
"Sure," you smile, but it's weak and you know it is. Watching him walk away, you can no longer hide the disappointment you feel.
Bucky is still within earshot when you turn to Steve and innocently ask, "Are you busy, Steve? Care to watch a movie in the lounge?" Steve of course agrees, and lets his arm drape around you.
Bucky knows that you and Steve are just friends. Steve has gotten a hint of how he feels about you, and far be it from him to take his friend's girl.
But it doesn't quell that sinking feeling, when he looks back. He sees you smiling up at Steve, as the two of you disappear into the lounge.
It's going to be a long night.
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neat-crows · 4 months
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So I've been re-watching dr who for the first time ever rn, with a friend who's never seen it before, so I'm seeing all these episodes for the first time since I was 13 and picking up on a LOT that I never noticed before, and holy shit the tenth doctor is SO WEIRD to Martha Jones, and nothing exemplifies that more than the sontaran stratagem/the poison sky.... like..... he is SO weird the whole way down.
When they first see each other again their introduction directly mirrors Jack and The Doctor's in Utopia
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"Doctor" "martha Jones" laugh and hug
"doctor" "captain Jack" laugh and hug
And then! they have a normal interaction!!! WIN he asks how her family is and how she is, and they're smiling and genuinely seem like friends very happy to see each other!
And then.... donna drops the fiance bomb.
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He turns with a look of.... almost anger? disbelief? and asks WHAT MAN?? Then martha explains who he is and the doctor....
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he looks? upset? and then like, resigned? AND THEN martha admits that her fiance is kind of similar to the doctor, and then donna asks "Is he skinny?" and his reactions
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is to make a face like "yeahh" AND START NODDING????? like he's taken Martha's admission to mean she's with a man that's just like him, and honestly seems a bit smug over it, and then when Martha says no-
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he looks so taken off guard and betrayed ??????????? BRO we are less than 5 minutes in..............
He then proceeds to be tetchy with her, and to be fair this is mostly because of her involvement with unit, and his discomfort with how militaristic she's gotten - which I think comes both from anger at himself for how he's changed her, and also discomfort that she's no longer "his" Martha, she's changed, and he doesn't know her as well anymore.
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he tells her off, he's snide and judgmental, he won't even look at her until she tells him to, and he's honestly bitchy - Until she explains herself, and tells him off for being so judgmental, i also think his line "oh so it's my fault" is very telling because..... it literally is? like yes, you put her in situations where she had to become harder and more used to violence......... and he KNOWS it. He's doing what he did all through series 3, which is feel guilty or bad and then take it out on Martha (that's for another post though) until she stands up for herself (get his ass!!) and then when she's finished she looks at him
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determined, but eyes darting back and forth waiting for his reaction, on some small level hoping for his approval
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and only THEN does he start to smile, and he tells her "that sounds more like Martha Jones." she's back to feeling like she's still his (to him, Martha is acting incredibly normal and platonic). The doctor has always had a weird possessiveness with Martha, going all the way back to their first episode where he hand picked her, and in this second of her looking for his approval, he feels that again, and he IMMEDIATELY started flirting again - please go watch the scene it boggles my mind how fast he switches.
I also want to be clear, Martha isn't flirting back, she's acting extremely normally. She's clearly taken the time away from him to get over, not only romantic feelings, but any anger as well. She seems to have come to terms with how she feels with everything that happened, and she loves and cares about him, but she's not naive to his faults - I also don't think she even picks up on him being weird to her in this scene. She's no longer in tune with his every mood swing, she's not here to fix him, or cater to his needs, and so she no longer notices these small moments from him.
AND THEN.... the clone.
He never flirts with the clone. The ONLY time, is the very first time they interact, before he's realized something is wrong.
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he calls her over to come with him, and his face is honestly way too close to hers. bro is a menace. but then, maybe 2 minutes later, he immediately clocks that this is not Martha.
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he realizes there has to be a spy and only has to consider for half a second before he turns and asks about her family, he's already realized she's acting a little off, and the second she answers he's 100% certain.
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and he gets MAD. he tells her Donna went home because she's not like her, she's not "a soldier" clearly a shot at the sontarans, but also another subtle test, the real Martha wouldn't let that slide, and he wouldn't say that to the real Martha. He continues saying Avanti, instead of Allonse-y, which is interesting, because he already knows. He's not doing this to confirm his suspicions, he's doing this as retaliation. To confirm to himself he knows Martha better than this fake, he's toying with her. BUT. He doesn't go to save Martha.
The next episode, the doctor's daughter, he refuses to accept the label of soldier, but Jenny rightfully points out that he strategizes like one And this is one such moment. He knows Martha is a clone, he's mad and upset, he could go save her right away, but he doesn't. He doesn't because it serves him best to allow her to keep shutting down the nuclear launch.
It reminds me a lot of when Cassandra possessed Rose in New Earth, he played a long for a little bit, but that was just to figure out what was happening. He IMMEDIATELY tried to fix it, I just wonder if it was any other companion if he would have done this. If it was Donna would he have left her for so long? even if it was strategic? it's this weird conflict the doctor has now that he's very very protective and a bit possessive, but he also treats her like an equal on the battlefield, and it's a weird... trust? he has in her to take care of herself.
I kind of don't want to call it trust because that sounds too positive, but I don't know another way to phrase it, but it's a forced independence and self sufficiency.
but then, he finally goes to save her
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He goes and cradles her face gently, and NOTABLY says "good, still alive" MEANING HE DIDN'T KNOW??? and still left her for that long...
but he holds her gently, and fully ignores the clone. He has his back to her, and then proceeds to taunt her. He tells her he clocked her right away because of the pupil size, thin hair, and he says she smells. but we know this isn't true.
Sure maybe those physical traits are true, but that's not how he figured it out, we saw how he did it, he clocked on because he knows Martha so well, but he can't admit that. He can't admit that he knows her just as much as she knows him, just like he couldn't tell Rose he loved her.
He is so deeply angry at this clone, he makes fun of her, he yells at her, he looks at her likes she's nothing
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This is his face when he kills her. He doesn't talk to her, or even TRY to save her. And we know she is alive, she has memories, and her own thoughts and feelings, and the doctor kills her while gloating because of his immense anger for hurting Martha. An anger that is also guilt.
he does not speak to her like a person (which directly leads into his treatment of Jenny in the next ep).
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Parallel that to how Martha treats her, they talk about their family and she even calls the clone Martha. She really is a doctor in a way ten tried and often failed at.
And then at the end, Donna asks Martha to come with them, and she says no, and that she's happy at home, but she's better for having traveled and come back.
And the doctor looks at her
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With an obvious sadness, but also acceptance. He clearly wants her here, with him, but I think he's finally come to accept that that'll never happen, and he needs to let her go.
Edit: I Like their dynamic(mostly) This is not an anti tenmartha post Him being a freak is compelling
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yonch · 4 months
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it's been 15 years and you can see better than ever
(design notes under the cut) (there are spoilers)
ok this got really long. here you go
sif:
ditched the cloak. it was collecting dust in their closet until recently, but they realized they don't need to cling to their grief so much anymore. someone else will need it more soon.
ditched the eyepatch. the prosthetic eye is a labor of love designed by isa, as is literally everything else they're wearing.
they cut their bangs finally and started braiding their hair back so it wouldn't obscure their vision as much anymore.
they like darker/tighter clothing and prefer function over form but unfortunately their gay ass boyfriend keeps treating them like a dress up doll so they're stuck wearing waistcoats and a fancy cloak. (they don't mind. it's designed to look like loop.) they keep flowers in their many pockets to give to people.
they're a woodworker in their free time. they don't usually talk about being any sort of savior so he just becomes sif the guy who's really good at carving birthday presents for people and also tags along with isa to charity parties and fundraisers
41 year old 5'1" they/he absolutely zero intention of Changing. bonded to isabeau. they adopted a kid who leo or i might post about some other time i think. her name is estelle.
isa: i'm not taking credit for the design that's by my friend @fembard /@leoweooo. i'll include his design notes
isa dresses mostly for comfort, he doesn't like wearing stuff that might get stained or ruined when he's dyeing clothes or chasing stelle around in the mud or something, all his fashion sense goes into his handiwork
he Changed a few more times over the 15yrs, eventually settled. picked up she/her pronouns again on the side but was never really able to ditch the name isabeau and he kinda ran out of names anyways...
kept the long hair, kept a few inches in height, very happy to fulfill the role of male (space) wife
can't ditch the kimono jacket it's the piece de resistance. odile influence and Wisening Of Age means its made with a little more knowledge of ka buan technique but still very clearly an Isa Design. the fabric is imported silk sif!!!!!!
39 year old Tall with a capital T he/she "i swear i'm not a weeaboo i'm just really into ka buan fashion" vaugardian indie clothing designer in your area help support this man in his attempts to use his family members as living advertisements for his brand
mira: with design input from @jastertown thank you my friend
i took a lot of inspiration for the sparkly, sheer fabric on her dress from euphrasie. she's not head housemaiden yet because she doesn't feel like she's ready but everybody knows it'll be her
speaking of inspiration. she's been taking a lot of fashion cues from a certain lady in dormont that she thought was kind of scary, but it turns out she's very nice? they're besties now.
she got rid of the earrings for a little bit but then she realized she just liked how they look on her. so now they go ding ding! it's for her and nobody else, and that's how she likes it.
moved her ornaments to her skirt because they ding ding more often there. her necklace also jingles with merriment.
38 year old she/her advanced cisgender+ legend who's realizing that people are trying to get her to be the pope but all she really wants to do is write yaoibait fiction that looks like it came straight off of ao3
odile:
my glorious hag. she started shrinking about 3 years ago. all those years of bending over books has finally caught up to her. her hips are fuuuuuucked. but she has a sick cane that sif carved for her so everything's okay
she was already pretty comfortable and settled in her sense of style when she was nearing 50 so i don't think she would change much. darker clothing maybe. ditched the high-waisted pants for some looser slacks.
she's started writing a familytale of her own. the only person she's told about it is bonbon, who caught her up way past their bedtime, and scribbled all over one of the pages. she'll pass it on to sif when the time's right, after she's written down everything she can remember about their family.
64 year old she/her wasian researcher recovering from hernia surgery who's getting really into things like "political activism" and "body craft law reformation in ka bue" and "making sure people aren't sourcing their hrt from back alleys"
bonnie:
prefers to go by boniface these days. it's cooler. more mature. please stop calling me bonbon that's a nickname from when i was 10 guys c'mon guys ugh fine frin you can still call me bonbon but not around my girlfriends ok (nobody calls them boniface except for odile)
speaking of which they have 3 butch lesbian girlfriends. this got established as a joke but i think they have it in them. they're still young!!!!!!! they should be at the club!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
they traveled for a while with everybody but eventually settled down back in bambouche to start a little family owned restaurant with nille featuring dishes from all over the globe. people travel from all over to get a taste of boniface's good eats... bambouche is bustling. (they have a few recipes that are sourced from the country. they meet people every once in a while who find something achingly familiar about it, and they usually direct those people to jouvente to get in contact with frin.)
26 year old they/them "i dont know how tall i am but i'm taller than za" chef cooker whose restaurant keeps lighting on fire because this time i swear nille i can figure out how to do cooking craft i swear i wont explode the kitchen this time please i promise
loop:
ok. this is where lozy gets to just talk about what he thinks happens post game. i think they stick around for way longer than they really should and follow the crew around on their travels (mostly invisibly) because they're sooo fucking scared of change they're sooo scared and they're so scared of their wish fucking up beyond belief. they're kind of incapable of aging or dying in this body and theyre like permanently 26 which is what spurs them to finally move on.
i think they go back to their timeline eventually after making a Brand New Wish to "go back to their real family." alas the universe leads and we can only follow. and it turns out loop has actually made a real family in stardust's world also. this is my justification for why they can pop in between sasasap and isat worlds without much repercussion. i think they're always permanently loop shaped in isat but i imagine they can probably go back to their original body in their home timeline... might design that later. who knows. i'm fucked like that
i just think they deserve a chance for their own happy ending you know. isat's a game about how it's never too late to communicate and how you shouldn't punish yourself forever and ever. and i think theyve punished themself enough you know.
ok tank you for reading if you read this far. it's really big and long so i would understand if you didn't. but i hope you liked it. thoughts appreciated. here's a little something for the people who read all the way through.
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demieyesore · 2 months
Text
Tear You Apart - Anakin Skywalker
Summary - Anakin's obsession with you is slowly taking over; He keeps hoping it'll just go away but quickly realizes that it won't.
Song inspo - "Tear you apart" by She wants revenge
Warnings / Mentions - GN!Reader, No use of Y/n, AFAB!Reader,  ... Cannibal!Anakin ... CANNIBALISM AS A METAPHOR FOR LOVE OKAY ... He doesn't literally eat the reader tho, only sexually LMFAO. Anakin is a serial killer tho. Modern AU, College AU, Stalker!Anakin, Yandere!Anakin, Smoking (I don't smoke or do drugs so idk if I wrote it correctly but whatever) Some 18+ but it's really not full on smut lmfao, more like it's just known that they're doing it
A/N - Okay finally actually deciding to write because I keep thinking about Anakin and this song...
Requested - No
Word Count - 1.5k
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Anakin Skywalker, a serial killer that hides behind the name "Darth Vader". He didn't choose this name for himself, it was given to him by the media after his first 3 murders. Well known for killing and eating his victims, people began to avoid leaving the house. The FBI were investigating the deaths, trying to find any trace of him. 
They wouldn't ever find him. He knew that. He had been so careful to make sure that nothing lead the cops to him.
Or to you.
You are his everything. His world. All the murders are a symbol of his love for you. Everything he ate from his victims were something you had touched. If he didn't eat it, you didn't touch it. But that doesn't mean he didn't still take anything.
The first victim, a boy in your college class. He simply asked to barrow a pencil but when you gave him the writing utensil, Anakin immediately took notice of how your hand brushed against his.
His eyes narrowed at the frat guy's hand, his tongue poking at his inner cheek in annoyance and frustration. 
Why would you touch him? He was dirty. All men are and you should be aware of that. You should be more careful about who you touch. Anakin would think in his mind, scolding you as he makes a note of who the douchebag was.
Two weeks later, he was found dead. His left hand missing and instead resting in Anakin's stomach. Of course from just the first victim, they couldn't assume he was actually eating the victims, they couldn't even be sure that this was a serial killer when there were no other deaths.
The second victim came about a month after that. In honor of the frat boy's passing, you and your friends went to a college party. This party was only about a week after the frat boy passed. You got a little too drunk, you could barely stand upright. What was Anakin supposed to do? Especially after he saw how handsy some guy was being with you? After he saw how he tried to lead you upstairs. 
You unfortunately went with him, too drunk to fight back but that's okay! Anakin will take care of you like always. 
Anakin saw how the sober party goer kissed you, he had to figure out how to protect you without drawing attention to himself.
He picked up a half empty red solo cup, standing by the staircase as he chucked the cup at your best friend. He swiftly walked away from the stairway, leaning against a doorframe as your best friend turned around.
She was clearly pissed, already a good sign for Anakin. She was scoping out the scenery, looking for who could have thrown the cup at her when she saw you making out against a wall with a dude that definitely was not your type. She stomped up the stairs, grabbing your wrist as she pulled you back downstairs and out of the party.
Anakin smiled to himself, holding a new cup with some kind of alcohol. His eyes drifted to the moron you were kissing. God how he wanted to kiss you too. Jealously spiked in his heart, his eyes darkening already trying to form a plan. 
So three weeks later, same thing happened. Another guy found dead. He wasn't missing his hand this time, no it was something more personal. 
His tongue.
The tongue that was practically shoved down your throat. He enjoyed cutting out his tongue while he was still alive, wanting him to know that this is what happens when you try to take advantage of someone who's drunk.
This pattern continued, making sure that the murders were far away enough from when you last interacted with the fucking losers.
I mean who would suspect you? Oh yeah, you gave a guy a pencil and he never gave it back? Such good motivation to kill someone. 
Now of course, the second one could be motivation but you were so drunk that you didn't even remember it in the morning. And your best friend didn't say anything about it. Anakin would have known if she did, he has spyware installed on all your devices, recording devices in your dorm room and with how often he's watching you, he would of course know.
The other murders he committed were similar, anyone who came into contact with you that he disliked... a couple weeks or even months later, they'd end up dead.
No one put together that it was involved with you. I mean even you didn't. It wasn't like you were dating anyone, he didn't have to kill a boyfriend. Only small... inconveniences.
That old geezer at your job that kept harassing you? Dead, his eyes gouged out.
The girl at the movie theater that was an absolute bitch? She was on a fucking phone call during the whole movie. She was interrupting the date you and Anakin were on! It didn't matter to him that you didn't know you were on a date. It was a movie you were really looking forward to but the cunt couldn't keep her mouth shut. Yeah well, it's fine because she also ended up dead, her ears missing.
Nothing would come between you and Anakin. You may have only talked to him a couple of times, mainly to work on a project but it didn't matter. He knew you thought he was cute. He was watching you even before that. 
Anakin didn't even want to like you as much as he does. When he first saw you, he felt a connection. Convinced himself that he was crazy. He would tell himself that he didn't need you. That he wouldn't give into his urges. 
It became useless after a while. He was already hooked before you ever spoke to him.
But it solidified when you were stressing yourself out over an exam. You went outside, needing a smoke break. Anakin had been working on a scheme to be able to talk to you. Wanting to make sure how he felt about you before he took it too far.
He watched as you groaned, pulling out your pack of cigarettes and realizing none were left. You swore you had one more left, you rummaged through your bag looking for the last one when he tapped your shoulder.
You turned around, confused with a dazed look on your face when you saw him.
Anakin held out a pack to you. It was your favorite brand and you thanked him as you took one of the cigarettes.
You leaned towards him when he flicked his lighter on. He lit his first, pressing it between his lips as he towered over you slightly, his left hand holding the lighter on while his right hand protected the flame from any wind. Your cigarette ignited as you happily took an inhale of it.
Anakin knew for a fact that he would obsess over this for the next two days even when he told himself that it's only just a crush. It'll go away.
When you smiled up at him he had to repeat his little affirmations to himself, not wanting to be attached. 
"It's just like all the others, it'll go away." He thought to himself.
He prayed for it to go away but his obsession just continued to grow.
I guess that's how you got here, underneath him. His obsession, his "crush" just never went away.
Anakin slowly invaded your life, not wanting to frighten you away. He may have eaten parts of people but it was just a metaphor for his love. Something he took a little too seriously.
He'd never hurt you, ever. Not unless he absolutely had to. But even then he wouldn't. He'd only just make threats.
You're too pure for him to hurt.
The only way he'd hurt you, was sexually. 
He craved to hold you close, your skin pressed against him tight.
"Lie still, close your eyes..." Anakin would mumble against your lips, pulling himself away as he lined himself up with your entrance. He didn't want this to hurt you too badly.
He'd groan as he pushes himself into you. Thrusting into you slowly at first, letting you adjust to his size. 
Anakin wanted this for so long, he couldn't help but to moan your name into the crevice of your neck as he sped up. 
"So-" A whimper escaped his mouth before he finished his sentence.
"So lovely, you feel so right..." His soft breath against your collar bone, you could feel his beating heart in his chest. 
He fucked into you deeper, a whisper fleeing his esophagus and into your eardrum.
"I want to fucking tear you apart."
Your hand brushed up against his, leaving it there. You told him how you felt, how much you loved him as you were both locked in a stare. 
Anakin's movements slowed at your confession, taking a moment to process what you just said before his lips met your again.
You weren't sure of how he felt, whether this was just an evening or a thing that would last.
Either way, Anakin wanted you and this was bad. He wanted, wants, to do things to you. It was making him crazy.
A little crush turned into a like.
Anakin grabbed you by your hair, gripping it roughly and told you.
"I want to hold you close, skin pressed against me tight."
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elementroar · 2 months
Text
Analysis of Paracelsus' initial bloodlust and its longlasting effects on A.B.A (Part 2)
Analysis behind the backstory and personal story arcs of A.B.A. and Paracelsus (part 1)
So this actually started out more of a 'funny' post, but I realized that it really is a very important insight into how A.B.A. and Paracelsus function and interact, especially for his earlier days in XX/Accent Core +R
And I wasn't joking about the vore. It's not in the erotic sense...but it certainly is in the 'literally eating parts of your partner ' sense...
Also apologies for the long word dumps, it got wordier and longer than I expected.
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Paracelsus (used to) REALLY love blood
It goes without saying, Paracelsus really loves blood. Well he used to anyway.
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By STRIVE, he says he felt he lost his sanity whenever he gets hyped on blood in the past. To the point, he has sworn off blood (and violence) as if it was an addiction. Basically, he has managed to go clean sometime between their last appearance and STRIVE.
To not go too far into his backstory again (which you can read here), Paracelsus is a magical axe that fed on blood and increased his own power with blood; and would use warriors as hosts to cause more bloodshed and thus gain more blood and power for himself. Paracelsus doesn't need to 'eat' blood to survive (he was left host-less for about 20 years, and now abstains in STRIVE and is just fine), making the addiction metaphor seem to be accurate.
Back in XX/ACCENT CORE, he needed to drink fresh blood to transform into his superpowered Moroha mode (this is mechanically replaced by Jealous Rage mode now). Similar to his current gameplay, he could get blood and transform by A.B.A. piercing someone with his bladed end; or if A.B.A. fed him one of three blood packs she'd have on her.
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He reacts pretty much like a dog getting a treat, anticipating it when she reaches into her pockets for a pack too. And he truly didn't care where the blood comes from, even if it's from A.B.A. herself.
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A.B.A. coughs up blood and all Paracelsus wants to do is have a taste. Note that he barely actually reacts to her or himself getting hit or fighting in the old games. It's kind of a stark contrast to his many reactions and concern for her wellbeing now.
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Make no mistake, despite being "kinder and gentler" than how he treated his previous hosts - by not completely mind controlling her into a frenzy and caring enough that he doesn't want her to die - Paracelsus was truly obsessed with drinking blood still, and all the fighting skills and power he imparted on A.B.A. was to make her strong enough to defeat opponents and gather blood for him too. Hence the 'manipulation' he felt guilty of in STRIVE.
And he gets even more bloodthirsty in Moroha mode aka what Paracelsus is without his 'sanity'.
You're the worse you when on blood
Prior to STRIVE and Paracelsus' current sludgy form, his powered-up form gave him a goat's head and his persona changes into that of his old berserker self.
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This increase in aggression and bloodlust also affected A.B.A. through their empathetic bond, making her also take joy in violence and also clearly hyperventilating and tweaking out in some animations, like she's high.
Not to mention that to fight in this mode, every time Paracelsus makes a successful attack, A.B.A. also gets damaged (hence 'Moroha' mode as it means 'double-edged'). In-universe, this could mean that Paracelsus is sapping both the blood of an opponent and A.B.A. at the same time, indiscriminately as he says.
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And he seems somewhat crueler in this form, as he has an even more violent and vicious state above Moroha mode called Goku Moroha mode. He enters it by consuming another blood pack, but he also seems to bite down on A.B.A.'s hand without a care and holds onto it while he transforms.
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The impact of all this on A.B.A
Picking up Paracelsus was truly a double-edged sword/axe for A.B.A. On one hand, he was older and savvier about the outside world (even though he spent like 20 years just rusting away on the ground somewhere) and having him as her emotional support key and literal weapon led her to actually daring to explore the outside world, and he provided and (attempted to) advised her on things she didn't know about.
On the other hand, Paracelsus' satiating his bloodthirst was still his main objective, and it was also hurting A.B.A. Although Paracelsus was making some effort to not outright get her killed, A.B.A's additional resilience as a homunculus probably also helped her survive take being Paracelsus' host as long as she did.
Paracelsus was the original toxic element in their relationship, and it's likely over the years he's come to realize and regrets the harm he was doing to A.B.A. constantly, and why he has completely sworn off blood and violence entirely by STRIVE.
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However, his bloodlust fueled and amplified the worse tendencies of A.B.A. from early on, and this seems to have stuck with her till the present in STRIVE. Her current extremely violent reaction when feeling jealousy or anxiety is likely how she's been conditioned to do so by Paracelsus, even when he himself is no longer the source of that bloodlust.
The difference now is that A.B.A.'s new powered-up state of Jealous Rage is mainly fueled by her wrath and fear instead of Paracelsus' bloodlust. Paracelsus becomes sludge now, affected by the toxicity of her unstable emotions going haywire and her will becoming decidedly dominant over his. The one who is toxic has become inverted.
What's more, it seems that the skills Paracelsus imparted on her before also carried over and stuck with her, allowing her to fight independently since Paracelsus isn't trying to encourage her to violence this time. She's become so dominant that she now can even force a new form/transformation onto Paracelsus when she does her Overdrive The Law is Key, Key is King while in Jealous Rage.
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In the game files, this red form is called the "Hyoui" form, meaning 'possession'. It being red is interesting because it seems to be a callback to Paracelsus' moniker of being the Sanguine Gale. The concept art also shows the pretty disturbing way he's being morphed into it by A.B.A. when she does the Overdrive.
When in her Jealous Rage mode, the bottom half Paracelsus' where his axe blade is, somehow becomes more axe-like than it ever has been in the games. In the earlier games, his blade half didn't change, only his head does into the goat-head. What's more disturbing is that eyes already started appearing on the axe half even while Paracelsus tries to maintain his original face as much as possible.
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When executing the Overdrive, A.B.A. swings with the axe half as the sludge pulls from Paracelsus' face to form this new toothed red axe head. Is it a new persona? Is Paracelsus still conscious in his face half or in the axe half at all? Does 'possession' have double meaning where A.B.A. is possessed by her own wrath, but also Paracelsus is now the one being possessed by A.B.A.'s will into forming the red axe form?
The interesting thing too is that A.B.A. executes the Overdrive with precise strikes, liked a skilled warrior. IMO, at this moment A.B.A. ironically became the exact kind of warrior that berserker Paracelsus would have wanted and caused him to even revert back into that primal early form of his that was barely sentient. They gained perfect synergy for the attack, but both are literally out of their minds.
What started this post
Just a funny thing but the reason why I even thought of, and then looked into all this, was because of A.B.A.'s biting of Paracelsus at the top of the post. I was wondering why Paracelsus doesn't say a word of protest when she does this to him, then remembered that he used to kinda drink her blood (and turns out he too has bitten her before), and I think he's prolly thinking "I deserve this".
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raidenenthusiast · 3 months
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obligatory post before acheron's release
obviously, it's established that acheron is a variant of raiden mei. her real name is not actually acheron (confirmed through the livestream, but...come on, we all already knew that). specifically, there's loads of similarities in her design to the herrscher of thunder above all else
similar hair structure, hair part, n hairpiece (n obviously the color, too),
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sword structure, patterns, n nearly identical handles,
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one "red" arm,
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the bust/halter,
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and of course, the color scheme as shown in acheron's "emanator" form, n the horns shown in the livestream
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with all that in mind, i imagine acheron is a variant of mei who failed to save the person closest to her (her kiana, to simplify it), n/or watched them die, or even killed them herself. it's shown during her dance with black swan that there was obviously someone important to her in her past, conflict arose in a setting much like the one featured in the livestream, n there's even imagery of her walking alone with only the moon in the sky to keep her company
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kiana has been associated with the moon n moon imagery since the flyme2themoon days; her origin was quite literally a game about blasting off to the moon
this teaser resembles thunders over nagazora to me, as well as mei watching kiana's end in honkai gakuen
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there's also the fact that the type of emanator acheron is, an emanator of nihility, is classified as a self-annihilator; those who have felt the pull of nihility n been unable to escape drowning in it. self-annihilator's take the meaning of nihility to heart, so much so that it erodes their bodies n memories
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acheron has been confirmed as the self-annihilator type in her character introduction posted recently. what really strikes me about this line is the phrasing of "existence is nothing"
sounds familiar, doesn't it?
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mei is characterized by the tragedies in her life, n how they impact her. growing up isolated, a kidnapping at a young age, bullying at school, suicidal tendencies, n the constant reminder that the girl she loves more than anything in the world will always put the overall well being of humanity over herself
to me, acheron is a mei shaped by loss. the mei we remember from hi3 had the chance to grow n change; to learn from her mistakes, n to fight for a better world, bc she had the support of her friends n her most important person. acheron doesn't seem to have that level of support from anyone, at least not anyone still in her life currently
which brings me to my next point. she HAD a "kiana," but ultimately lost her. n this is the result
acheron is incredibly powerful, but her power seems incredibly volatile. she carries this innate sadness with her wherever she goes, n the very path she walks n the very aeon she became an avatar of strips life of all meaning, all the beauty from the world
it's a far cry from the mei we know, bc clearly, there was a very pivotal change in her development that i can only attribute to the loss of her world's "kiana"
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woso-dreamzzz · 6 months
Text
Not German
Hardersson x Teen!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: You're not German
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Magda doesn't often get phone calls from her manager. Most of the time it's emails or good old-fashioned letters in the mail so when she gets the phone call, she's a little confused.
She's even more confused when the topic turns out to not even be about her but you instead.
"Does y/n hold German citizenship?"
Magda's confused. "Huh? Erm...I don't know, why?"
"Was she born in Germany? Is that where her birth certificate is from?"
Magda laughs slightly. "Which one?" She turns serious though as anxiety swells in her gut. "Yeah, she's got a German birth certificate. And a Swedish one and a Danish one."
She hears her manager swear on the other side of the phone.
"What's wrong?"
"Germany are interested."
"Interested? In what?"
"In having her play for their under-fifteen team."
Magda laughs again. "They can't do that. She's not German."
"Legally, she is. She was born in Germany. She's lived there for more than five years. She was registered in a German school while you and Pernille were at Bayern. Under the eligibility rules, she meets the criteria."
"She's not German," Magda insists.
"It's called jus soli - the principle of birthplace. She was born in Germany. She has citizenship. They can call her up if they want."
Magda swears. "They can't," She insists," I...I won't let them. We've settled. We're good where we are. She's too young to be shipped off across the world to a country that-"
"To a country that's interested in her? A country whose language she's fluent in? A country that she's grown up in?"
Magda grinds her teeth. "A country that shouldn't be trying to poach the future star of Sweden or Denmark. How did they even find out about this anyway? It's sneaky. She's not theirs to have."
"Magda-"
"No! She's barely fourteen! She's not going to Germany!"
"Who's not going to Germany?"
Pernille appears in the doorway, still wrapped up in her coat from where she's just gotten back from dropping you off at training.
"y/n." Magda's still grinding her teeth. "Germany want her."
"For what?"
"To play on their youth team."
It's not often that rage flickers on Pernille's face but this is clearly one of those times.
"She's not eligible to play for them," She says firmly, as if her speaking it into existence will make it happen.
"Apparently she is. Some stupid law about being born in Germany," Magda replies, turning her phone onto speaker.
"They can't have her."
"That's what I said."
"She's too young to go off to Germany by herself."
"I said that too."
"You're missing the point," Magda's manager says," They're inviting her to play for them. It's not them saying she has to or them pretending that they're her only option. Just an option. She's not registered with them so they put out feelers with the Swedish FA who put them in contact with me."
"She's not German," Magda insists again, feeling her throat tighten.
In her mind, Sweden and Denmark were always going to be the only option for you. One day, one (or both) would want to call you up for the senior team. One day, you would choose which of your mothers' footsteps to walk in. One day, you would either be wearing Sweden or Denmark's colours at an international tournament.
She hadn't even considered that your birth and time spent growing up in Germany would mean that you might not end up in either her's or Pernille's team.
"Listen, Germany knows that. They know that but they also know who her parents are, they know she's on track to be one of the best keepers in the world. They know that she speaks the language and she's smart. To them, securing her now could mean she chooses them when she turns eighteen and all three of us know that when she hits eighteen, she's going to be great. It's tactical for them. Sure, they lucked out on her meeting all of the eligibility criteria and, sure, it's completely underhanded and sneaky of them but, ultimately, it's no one's decision but hers. She's not registered with them. If they want her they go through me and they go through you. But they want her and a decision needs to be made."
"A decision has been made," Magda says," The decision is no. They can't have her. She's too young to go to Germany by herself. She's too young to be mixed in with the politics of this all. It's confusing and I won't let it happen."
Pernille's nodding firmly at her side even though Magda's manager can't see them.
"It's...Magda, I understand what you're saying. I do. None of us want her in German colours but...it's not your decision to make. It's hers."
"She's not here right now," Pernille says after a long stretch of silence," She's at practice."
"Talk to her when she comes home," Magda's manager says," Let her make the decision."
●~●~●~●~
You think Momma and Morsa have had an argument when you slip through the front door after having been dropped off back home by your friend's mother.
The vibe at the dinner table is frosty and you glance between your mothers awkwardly.
You're not entirely sure what they could have argued about but it's making your dinner very unenjoyable.
"So," Morsa says finally, putting her cutlery down," What do you think about Germany?"
Momma shoots her a look and your eyes dart between them.
"Er...Are we moving again? Back to Germany?"
Morsa's eyes widen. "Why? Is that something you want? You want to go back to Germany?"
Momma keeps glaring at her and horror swirls in your stomach.
"Are you two breaking up?" You ask quickly, looking between them in disbelief. "Is that why you're asking about Germany? Is one of your moving to Germany and you're sorting out who I'm living with?"
You stand up quickly, your chair clattering to the ground.
"I-I don't want to have this conversation."
"No! No, princesse." Momma reaches out to grab at your wrists, pulling you into her grip. "Me and Morsa aren't breaking up. We're not separating. We're not moving to Germany."
Morsa scoffs.
"We're not moving to Germany, Magda!" Momma snaps before pulling away, her tone softening," I'm sorry for worrying you, princesse, but me and Morsa got a call today."
"A call?"
You're guided back into your seat.
"A call," Morsa says. Her hands are clenching and releasing on top of the table.
"And...This call had nothing to do with you two separating?"
"Nothing at all," Momma assures you," It just threw us."
"And it's about Germany?"
"You were born in Germany," Morsa continues, though her eye twitches like it did all those years ago when Leah Williamson gave you her shirt," And you went to school in Germany, when you were younger. Do you remember?"
"I only went to school once a week," You reply," You home schooled me the rest of the time."
"We did but it was still a German school you went to."
"I guess. What has this got to do with the call, though?"
"My manager called earlier. Germany's interested in inviting you to their under-fifteen team."
"Oh." You sink down in your seat. You don't like where this is going at all. Both of your mothers had played for their youth teams. They were always going on about how much of a good experience it was for them.
You hadn't been called up for either Sweden or Denmark just yet.
You don't know if you really want to go to Germany to play.
"Oh?"
You laugh bitterly. "Germany, huh? I'm...I'm not German."
"Under the law, you are. And under the eligibility criteria, they can ask you to play for them," Momma explains.
"Oh..." You play with your food. "When do I have to leave?"
You don't want to play for Germany at all. You don't want to play for anywhere but Denmark or Sweden. But Momma and Morsa always go on and on about how much it improved them to play in the youth teams. You don't want to let them down.
You don't see Morsa's face fall at your words. "You want to go?"
"Do I have a choice?" You sullenly look at your food. Suddenly, everything tastes like ash in your mouth.
"Of course, princesse," Momma assures you," You always have a choice."
"You won't make me play if I don't want to?"
"Of course not."
"And-And Germany won't force me to play for them either?"
Morsa lays a hand on your arm. "What makes you think that Germany will force you to play for them?"
"Tia Tana said once that she and the Spanish team went on strike and then they all got called up during their next international break."
"This is a youth team, princesse," Morsa says," They have no right to ask that of you and they'll have to get through me, Momma and Sweden and Denmark to make you. You don't have to play for them if you don't want to."
"And you won't get mad? You always say that playing on the youth teams developed your skills."
"We won't get mad," Momma says," You don't want to play for Germany?"
"No."
"Okay. Then you won't play for Germany."
"That simple?"
"That simple."
You breathe out a long breath as your body finally relaxes, all of the tension bleeding out of the room.
Morsa is in a similar position, finally looking relaxed for the first time since you got home.
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luveline · 7 months
Note
Blurb idea jade!!! Can I request a drunk reader with one of the mauraders where she comes home and he’s expecting her to be all kisses and he’s getting ready to let her down bc he won’t make out with her drunk but she just comes and screams CUDDLES!!! And just wants lots of cuddles!! Omg bonus if it’s like a reader that’s touch starved or someone who usually doesn’t say that
ty for requesting!
Your knock to be let in is somehow hesitant and sloppy at the same time. It starts quiet, ends louder, and when Remus opens the door you almost fall straight through the doorway into his arms. 
You smell unbearably of cherry, but you have kind hands. “Hello!” you say, cupping his neck. 
“Shh,” he says gently. “James is sleeping upstairs.” 
“Oh, gotcha,” you whisper. “Sorry, James. Should we not go upstairs?”
“Where will we sleep?” he asks. 
“On the settee? We have fun on the settee all the time–” 
“Don't say it like that,” Remus chastens, laughing as he pulls you into the living room. He has a feeling he'll have to fend you off while you're tipsy, and it's not that you don't listen (when he says no, you'd never dream of trying your luck), but the issue is that you being drunk gravely inhibits your ability to understand language. Sometimes, he has to shout a bit. 
Even now you're giggling and traipsing after him, asking a question, getting an answer, and asking again. “Did you miss me?”
“I always miss you,” he says, nudging you down into the settee. 
There are enough fat cushions behind you to soften the fall, but you still laugh, accusing him of violence, “You're so mean,” you say, “pushing me around. How could you?” 
Remus bites back a smile. He loves you, clearly, but you have issues with intimacy he has yet to unravel, if it's possible at all, and he doesn't mind how you are nor the time it might take, but booze is a little like a fast forwarding button. You want to be touched so badly it eats you up, and sober all it takes is a hand on your arm to make you shiver, but drunk? You're pulling at his shirt trying to get him between your legs. 
“Dove, you're more drink than girl right now,” he says, holding your wrists tightly, lest you win. 
“Okay? Give me a cwtch, don't be so selfish,” you say. 
He puts his knee between your legs and leans down. “Oh, I'm selfish?” he asks, bringing his hand to your face, fingers curled, fingertips stroking up and down your cheek. Your skin is boiling hot. 
“You're not?” you ask.
Remus relents, dropping the mass of his weight on top of you, ready to climb off of you again if you aren't happy. His arms needle under your back and you wriggle down to bring him closer, clearly pleased at the position, delight evident on your face. “Is this what you wanted?” he asks. 
You giggle happily. It echoes, and he gives you a quick kiss to show he isn't mad before he shushes you. “James is sleeping, dove,” he says again, “you have to be quiet.” 
“I am being quiet, you're the one shouting.” You drape your arms over his shoulders, nuzzling your face against his neck. “Just cwtch me, fuck’s sake.” 
He squeezes you hard enough to make you laugh again, panic and humour at once; these types of play fights usually end in you breathless and tickled half to death. “Watch your mouth.” 
“Okay, alright.” You press your parted lips to his neck. “Rub my back? Least you can do now you've broken it.” 
He was going to anyway. 
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