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#If this ends in me getting harassed or attacked then that's just a sign to me
malaky-nightm4r3 · 1 year
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I know you aren't supposed to trust your brain past dark
but Im having a really bad time with my brain resurfacing all the trauma I have from the past few years and just dragging it all over my thoughts and dreams lately- I wonder if brains do this to punish you for the decisions that lead up to meeting people who traumatize you. I mean. Your brain is supposed to force you to learn from your trauma so you don't get hurt again and again, and for like three years straight, though this year was very mellow, I was in and out of being surrounded by people who I can see now did basically nothing but traumatize me. I've put that aside and learned to cope. And since then, Ive started taking zero shit and learning from my mistakes. The moment people start showing red flags I can recognize, I address them, and if nothing is changing I drop that friend or acquaintance. Or I don't let in new people who I even think could be a bad influence or harmful to me and others.
But its making it even harder for me to even trust new people whatsoever. I judge newcomers too swiftly. I've only recently felt comfortable enough to speak publicly in discord servers I used to be super active in a few times at max, hiding a majority of the time like I have been for a very long time.
I don't understand people, people confuse me. The way they act, the way they think, the way they speak, its all so confusing. I can understand an individual person if Ive known them long enough- I understand the way they do things and find their actions and words familiar. I don't understand when someone I trust flips their whole opinion on everything and starts talking badly towards me, talking badly about me to others, ignoring me, laughing at me, not telling me whats wrong, when just a little bit ago they were laughing with me and including me in a lot.
I don't understand why people demand people tell the truth, but when I am honest, Im "being insensitive", "too honest", "being an asshole". Everyone told me my whole life to be honest so I am! Why do I still get in trouble? I'd get in less if I just lied and said everything you want to hear. But that's not right. I don't want to lie. I prefer telling the truth. Why is it my fault people refuse to accept it because maybe it hurts their egos?
Society pisses me off. Why is it when a bully punches you, nothing happens, but if you punch back, you're the villain? Why is it when a victim raises their voice, the abuser points at them and cries "ABUSER" "MANIPULATOR" "LIAR", and gets away with it? Why is it when someone assaults you, you get the dirty looks and are blamed for what you went through? Why are victims always the ones who are punished and left to suffer while the abusers are either ignored or supported and encouraged to continue their behavior? Why is the person with more popularity and the kinder sounding voice believed over the broken and crying one in the corner?
Why is it always victim blaming that is the go to. I've dealt with all of the shit I listed above, I was fired from a daycare job because when they found out my former coworker assaulted me, I WAS THE ONE BLAMED FOR THE SUDDEN BAD REPUTATION. I've lost friendships and ties over people believing my abusers over me, several times. I was the one serving detention because I had enough of being bullied without doing something to stand up for myself. I was pushed into doing shitty things because of the abuse I was dealing with, and yet I was still the one to blame each and every time even when I was only following the rules of the game I was living at the time.
I know I'm not alone in this. But again. Can't trust your brain past dark, can you.
Can't voice how you feel and how you're affected by your trauma so you don't hurt your abusers' egos or feelings, so you don't get hurt more because they'll attack you or tell all their friends how HORRIBLE you are and you'll be harassed by everyone they know, blah blah blah I don't care anymore. How immature can you be, to harass someone you've already hurt so badly. To obsess over them. To wish them more harm. I don't even know if half the people who've hurt me over the years even have tumblrs anymore/at all, this is directed at none of them. Don't worry. Im not fishing for trouble. I just wanted to scream my thoughts to the void, to finally let some shit out for once, to give a glimpse as to how tattered and fucked up I am after everything that was done to me, without revealing too much so people can't fucking weaponize my trauma or whatever they say happens on the internet. I just wanted. to fucking vent. Because my physical state is getting worse constantly nowadays, and my mental state is fluctuating because trauma I thought I'd dealt with and knew how to cope with is swallowing me whole and making me terrified again. Im so tired of getting hurt. I want to be able to trust people fully again. I want to feel safe.
We want to feel safe. This entire plurality shares this fucking sentiment that i just spent ranting about.
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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 2 months
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Can I request Carol Danvers x Reader. While the whole team is on a mission, Reader finds themselves in trouble. Carol swoops in a saves them. The team starts to harass R, which makes R have feelings of doubt toward their abilities and also not good enough for Carol. Angst and then you can end it however you see it. Thank you! If you don’t like this request, please feel free to ignore.
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My Voice of Reason
Warnings: Bullying of R by the team that's about it
Word count: 660
A/N: thank you for this request! I had a fun time with it~
“Y/N! Come in! What's your status?” Cap shouted over the comms. Your head was reeling after being knocked back about 50ft. You had no voice left, you had been shouting, using your voice manipulation to subdue the enemies. 
You had run out of throat spray to ease the pain and talking was something you couldn't even fathom. 
“Anyone got eyes on Y/N?” Natasha called through the comms.
“I'll find her.” You heard Carol call through, and before you knew it, she was standing above you. “You good, Echo?” The nickname that stuck with you for being able to mimic any sound. You were able to nod, point at your throat, and sign ‘no’. “Can you get up? Can you walk?” As Carol asked, another handful of Hydra goons came round, and without a second thought, Carol picked you up before unleashing an attack, knocking them out. “Let's get back to the QuinJet.” You nodded, gripping onto her, burying your face against her to hide the blush covering your cheeks. 
The ride home had been full of whispers as if you couldn't hear them talking down. It was your voice that wasn't working, not your ears.
You felt Carol's strong hand on your shoulder. Looking over, she gave a soft smile. “Almost home. We'll have to debrief, but you should grab some medicine first.” You gave a soft smile back and nodded. 
“Y/N do you have anything to say?” Tony remarked, all eyes on you.
“Ran out of meds. Couldn't talk.” Your voice still hoarse.
“I am so sick of that excuse! You need to train more often and stay off missions. You're grounded.” Cap called across the table. You pulled your sleeves over your hands, picking at the skin around your nails. You couldn't look at any of them. 
“I'm sorry…” you spoke softly. Letting the ‘adults’ talk even though you were 21 you were still the youngest besides Peter, but Tony kept him mostly off field.
A few hours later you'd been released from the debriefing, heading straight to your room. “FRIDAY. Soundproof.”
“Sound proofing complete ms. Y/L/N.” As soon as it was soundproof, you let out a banshee scream in frustration. You yelled until your voice was just about gone again, “Fuck them. I try so hard…Tony has a stupid suit, Cap is a super soldier, Thor is a literal God!” You yelled. “It's not fair…its…” you started crying which turned into uncontrollable sobbing.
“Echo? Are you in there?” You heard Carol knocked at your door. As you tried to gather yourself together real quick and told FRIDAY to stop the soundproofing. 
“Y-yeah…here…” you called out, spraying your throat.
“Can I come in?” Carol asked, making you hesitate for a moment before opening it and pulling her inside. “Hey, you okay?” Carol cupped your cheeks, you tried looking away, anywhere, but at her. She was always so kind and caring towards you. “Look at me Y/N.” It caught you off guard, she never used your name ever since she learned your nickname so of course you looked at her. “Don't listen to those idiots. You're amazing and you're an amazing super hero. They have fancy gadgets and enhancements. You don't have those things. Sure your voice is a power and makes you an enhanced individual, but your power hurts you too. It isn't endless your body has limits and they need to understand that.” 
You felt your body shake at her words, trying to hold back your tears, but they end up falling as you're pulled against her. “Shhhh I'm always on your side.” Carol pulled your face up gently before pulling you into a soft kiss making your heart soar as you kissed her back pushing up on your toes and wrapping your arms around her shoulders. 
Through all of it, Carol was here with you, and so long as you had her by your side, anything the other members said didn't matter.
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redtsundere-writes · 27 days
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Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen
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mma fighter!sukuna ryomen x femalecoach!reader
Part 8. Fight For Me.
Beginning. ← Previous | Next →
Spynosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Sukuna being Sukuna. Female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Warnings: Cursed words. Unethical violence. Sexual harassment. I only read it once, lmao Word count: 2927 words. A/N: Another Saturday, another chapter. I picked up studying Japanese again, so far so good. Any advice is welcome :) Hope you guys like today's chapter. :) Btw I made a PLAYLIST
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That was the most uncomfortable morning of my life. I can’t get the idea that I fell asleep in Sukuna's bed like it was nothing out of my head. All I could do was to get dressed quickly to get back to my house before the morning training started. Luckily, I didn't see Sukuna on my way out, maybe he slept in the guest room… or so I thought. His penthouse was huge, there must have been an extra room for sure. Upon arriving at the gym, Sukuna just scolded me for being late as if nothing happened last night, so I acted accordingly. 
Cheers and praises flooded the arena as soon as Sukuna's anthem began booming over the speakers. Even though it was the last fight of the night, this was just starting. The sound mitigated with every step we took upon the intimidating octagon where Naoya was waiting for us after making his grand entrance. I was so nervous I felt like I was going to throw up at any moment, but I had to stay strong. This was not the time to act like a coward. 
The referee checked Sukuna's gloves and body for sandbags or anything out of place. During the inspection, Sukuna gave me a serious glare. He looked so calm for someone who was about to be locked in a cage to fight another beast his size. I had interrupted Naoya's lucky ritual and helped him perform his luck ritual successfully. He was sure he was going to win, but he couldn't let his guard down. 
Sukuna stepped onto the big stage and jogged around the perimeter so that everyone could admire his greatness. Naoya instead of watching him to analyze his opponent, was focused on me. His eyes were looking at me through the black fence, conveying a message I did not want to decipher. Sukuna had to beat him if I didn't want him to escape from the cage and lock me in his clutches. I gulped hard as soon as the referee approached them to give them the basic rules. It was time. I closed my eyes to pray to all the deities of the constellations, crossed my fingers and prayed that Sukuna's sign was lucky today. 
The bell rang and the first round began. People shouted in anticipation as the lion engaged the cheetah in a dangerous dance for dominance. As we had planned, Sukuna was taking his time with him. He was waiting for our common enemy to feel comfortable enough to approach him. Naoya took the bait as he slammed in on him with a pair of jabs, he was going right at his jaw to end the fight. “He looks different,” I thought as I watched him attack Sukuna without hesitation. He was desperate to win as fast as possible, even if that meant throwing away all his energy in the first round. 
Everything was being decided by boxing in the first two rounds, so far, we were going according to plan. Sukuna was like a fish in water, dodging every punch he landed and landing a couple of jabs that connected perfectly with his body, while Naoya struggled to take him down. There was a minute left in the third round when Naoya knocked Sukuna down with a spinning kick. The cheetah turned into a dangerous boa that attached itself to his body mercilessly. Its legs wrapped around his waist to put him in a neck lock. Sukuna tried to pull away from the cheetah's grip with hopeless punches and kicks, but Naoya wasn't about to let it go so easily. 
“Hold on, Sukuna!” I yelled in desperation amidst the howls of the fans. 
I looked at the clock hoping that the seconds would pass quickly, but it felt like an eternity. Sukuna was pushing away with difficulty the arm that chained his neck to keep from fainting. My eyes were on the verge of tears, the champion could not lose, not today. 
The bell rang, and the fighters walked away. I sighed in relief and rushed up to the octagon with Gojo and Yuuji to assist him in the break. Gojo put ice on his shoulder and Yuuji gave him water. 
“Change of plans. We must go to the floor,” I said. 
“What?” Sukuna asked me, taking off his mouth guard. 
“Naoya is desperate. He wants to win at any cost, it seems that this time he doesn't want to leave it to the judges. This is your chance to use his attacks against him,” I explained, but Sukuna didn't seem to be convinced. 
“I agree. He is fighting differently from before. Use your legs, they are longer than his,” Gojo intervened. With that, Sukuna nodded before the next round was announced by a beautiful ring girl. 
Naoya's eyes were on me as he prepared for the next round. I returned her gaze in kind, I wasn't going to let him bully me just because. The bell announced the fourth round and my eyes returned to Sukuna. After a back and forth of punches and low kicks, Naoya went straight at him. Naoya knocked him down, pushing him by the shoulders. Sukuna fell backwards with a loud thud. This time, time wasn't going to stop him. I had seen this attack before. 
“Push him with your legs!” I yelled so he could hear me as I ran around the perimeter of the octagon to get a better angle on the attack. 
Sukuna understood what I meant. With the inertia of Naoya's attack, Sukuna pushed him by the abdomen. I thought he would push him away, instead, he grabbed him by the arms and lifted him up to have him at his mercy for a couple of seconds in the air. I could see Naoya's eyes as he realized he had screwed up. Sukuna threw him to turn him like a helicopter propeller to put his leg between his arms and whip him against the floor. He caged him between his legs and kept pulling him by his limb to keep Naoya in a headlock. 
“Sukuna…” I mumbled in shock. 
Naoya was hitting him by the legs while trying to free his trapped arm. The referee was asking Naoya to get out of it quickly, or he was going to call the fight over. Time paused again as the scene unfolded before me. A king demonstrating his power to a rebellious knight. I no longer heard the people, nor my team, nor my thoughts. It was just my eyes taking in the facts, tasting those uncertain moments. 
Naoya was completely trapped, so the referee announced the end of the fight. I caught my breath and came back to my senses at the decision. Sukuna broke away from Naoya and slowly stood up to regain his posture. He looked at me through the fence and gave me a slight smirk. “Mothafucker did it,” I thought before a tear of happiness slipped down my cheek. We had won, I was free and the champion proved himself the best once again. 
I met up with the team to go up to the octagon to celebrate the victory. I moved through the crowd to give him a sweaty bear hug. I wanted to congratulate him, and thank him for giving his best as always, but I was so happy the words wouldn't come out of my mouth. I could only cry of joy on his shoulder. 
“Stop crying like a bitch,” he whispered between chiding teeth as he wiped my face with the towel around his neck. 
“Can’t I be happy?!” I scolded him between sniffles. 
“You're humiliating me. I can't have a crybaby of a trainer,” he complained. 
“I'm not...!”
My eyes popped open as soon as Sukuna connected his lips with mine in a sweet kiss in front of everyone. My cheeks turned the color of his hair and my heart started beating like crazy from shock. It was not a passionate kiss as he usually kisses me in the secrecy of his ritual, it was a tender touch in the middle of an octagon full of fighters and cameras watching us. Our lips didn't last more than 5 seconds connected, but it felt like it lasted an eternity. 
The sharp sound of something metallic woke me up from the moment. Naoya had hit Sukuna in the head with his metal water bottle before anyone could stop him. The arena gasped in shock at the unsportsmanlike attitude. Team Zenin pulled him back before he could land another misplaced blow. Yuuji, Gojo and Nanami lashed out at him and his coach for not being able to control their athlete. 
“How dare you kiss what's mine?! Let’s get back together, y/n!” Naoya screamed in a tantrum as he tried to break free from the grip of his teammates. 
“Are you okay?” I asked Sukuna worriedly as I put some ice on his bump. 
“Yes, I feel better now,” he said with a proud smile as he watched Naoya in emotional agony. 
“Naoya Zenin will appear before the official UFC committee for lack of discipline and unsportsmanlike attitude tomorrow afternoon for his actions after tonight's fight, but there are already rumors that he will be suspended for more than 5 years from all events,” The commentator announced. 
Team Black howled with joy at the news. My heart had finally calmed down after drinking a nice beer and chatting for a while with Yuuji and Megumi at the same bar we came last time. My mind was finally resting at peace after Sukuna beat up Naoya and explained to Nanami that the kiss had only been to get Naoya off her nerves. “Relax, that kiss didn't mean anything, it was just part of the strategy,” I thought as I remembered how intense that unexpected contact felt. 
“Aren't you supposed to be with the Zenins? Aren't they family?” I asked Megumi curiously to distract my mind from the strong palpitations of my passionate heart. 
“More or less. My father was kicked out of the dojo as soon as he challenged my uncle Naobito and beat him. The family could not bear such a breach of family honor,” Megumi explained, not caring at all about the incident. “I never thought that Sukuna could lift Naoya with his body, it was really incredible. Did you teach him that move?” He asked me before taking a sip of her beer. 
I looked briefly at Sukuna who was chatting pleasantly with Nanami on the other side of the table. Quickly, he noticed that I was watching him. I turned around in time so that he wouldn't think I had been watching him for a long time and that we had only connected casual glances. “Why am I thinking like a lovesick teenager?”, I scolded myself.
“I didn't know he could do that either,” I agreed, to which Megumi looked at me strangely.
After a stressful day and a couple of drinks to counteract the body ailment. I said goodbye to everyone and set out to head home under the midnight stars. I smiled to myself as I replayed in my mind how Sukuna had cornered Naoya against the canvas. The sound of his bare back impacting hard played in my mind on loop. It had been a lousy day, but an incredible night I would never forget. 
“Where are you going?” someone asked behind me. I could recognize Sukuna's voice anywhere in the world. 
“Home, to rest,” I answered as I faced him fully. Why had he followed me? Whatever the reason, we were alone on the sidewalk, it was the right time to tell him how I felt. “You did amazing tonight, thank you very much.” 
“I just did my job, I didn't do it for you,” he said with that serious tone I knew so well by now, he purposely made it sound like he was annoyed. 
“I know you didn't do it for me, but I still want you to know that I owe you one,” I joked.
He didn't hesitate to approach me, I thought he would give me a hug or another kiss, so I just froze in place. Instead, he just handed me a silver key with a Team Black keychain on it. I inspected it carefully as I twirled it between my fingers. 
“You are going to live with me, starting tonight,” he announced as if it was nothing. 
“What?! Why?!” I was really confused.
“Naoya will probably be suspended from the UFC tomorrow and have to pay a stupidly expensive fine. Guess who he's going to blame for that,” I explained. 
“You?” I really didn't want to blame myself right now. 
“Do you really think he'd try to come near me after I beat him up on the ring? And I was fighting under the rules,” Sukuna smiled proud of himself for his performance in the fight. 
“Naoya promised me that...". 
“Naoya promised you that he would love you forever and not hurt you and look where you are. Just because you're innocent doesn't mean you're stupid,” Sukuna interrupted me and then turned his back to me. “You better be home by the time I get back,” he demanded before going back to the bar.
“Hey! Sukuna! What about my stuff?!” I shouted for him to stop, but he ignored me and walked into the bar without saying anything else. 
I stood still on the sidewalk while my fingers caressed the keychain. How could someone be so nice and scary at the same time? It was obvious that Sukuna wanted me to be safe, but the way he did it felt like he was doing me a favor instead of actually wanting to help me. “He wants to protect me,” I thought as I realized what he was doing. My heart skipped a beat even though he was no longer in my presence and my cheeks dyed pink just thinking about him. 
“Sukuna sure is a strange man…” I thought out loud as I went on my way to the penthouse. 
Even though I had entered his home before, I couldn't help but be surprised as I walked down the huge carpeted hallway. I arrived in the immense living room that shared the professional kitchen, the 12-person wooden dining room and the contemporary living room surrounded by huge windows that allowed me to see the entire city glowing in the dark night. What it's like to have all the money in the world. 
“I think I'll sleep in the guest room,” I said aloud to test the echo of my new home. “First I must find the guest room,” I planned as I looked at the maze I would be living in.
I avoided the entrance doors because I knew that one of them was Sukuna's room, so I had to go up to the second floor. When I got to the top, I could see through the large windows the indoor pool on the first floor, the bar with karaoke and the small zen garden that divided the rooms. “What songs will he like to sing,” I wondered curiously as I continued my search for my room. A little smile escaped my lips as I imagined Sukuna singing Single Ladies by Beyoncé.
I had finally found the guest room. It had a king-size bed with beige sheets, a small couch to watch TV, its own bathroom and a large empty closet. I dropped my backpack on the small white couch and headed for bed. Before I could throw myself out of exhaustion, I noticed a Victoria's Secret bag at the foot of the bed. My eyes widened as I realized the real reason Sukuna wanted me to come to his house. 
“That fucker is planning to fuck me tonight!” I exclaimed, offended. 
I couldn't believe it, I was really stupid for thinking that Sukuna wanted to protect me. I had escaped from the Zenin just to face a Ryomen. I am so naive for thinking he was different, but he was just another disgusting man who can't see women as equals. I really wanted him to be different. He only fucked me twice, and he already assumes he can do it whenever he wants. I wasn't going to let him. 
I took the things out of the bag to throw it in the trash, but stopped when I saw that it wasn't lingerie, it was a full set of satin pajamas. White pajamas with pink stripes in my size. I covered my face with it from embarrassment. I had misjudged Sukuna, he sure bought me pajamas after I fell asleep naked in his bed the night before. I took off my clothes to put on the soft and comfortable pajamas, they fit me like a glove. I smiled like a fool when I saw myself in the mirror. 
“How cute…" I thought out loud before throwing myself on the bed comfortably. 
Oh.
Quickly, I realized what I had said and stood still, staring at the white glitter ceiling. Did I just say Sukuna was cute? No, he couldn't be. He is a rude, selfish, impatient, serious, self-confident, independent, disciplined, strong, handsome, rich man... I couldn't fall in love with him. I was his trainer, his co-worker. I couldn't like him because he has an amazing body, takes care of me even if he doesn't want to admit it, and kisses me like no one else ever has, right? Right?! 
Oh.
I was in trouble.
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bonefall · 28 days
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Hello Bones!
I'm curious if you have any plans for how bb!thunderclan reacts to Ravenpaw going missing when he joins kitty witness protection?
It has admittedly been a LONG time since I've read TPB but if I remember right thunderclan doesn't really react much. I kinda get it because the reader already knows where he is so why dedicate page time to dwelling on it, but in universe it's strange that the adults in the clan respond to a whole apprentice going missing with 'that's weird... anyways'
Canonically: It's because Ravenpaw is brought to Barn Witness Protection at the very end of TPB, during the attack on ShadowClan to depose Brokenstar. This follows the Clan becoming increasingly violent with him. Tigerclaw had been allowing his apprentice to soak up suspicion for there being a traitor within ThunderClan, and was planning to "get rid of him" in some way.
So Firepaw and Graypaw essentially took the first possible moment to get him out of there, and then came back claiming he'd been killed by a ShadowClan patrol. It reads to me like a lot of the Clan assumed that Brokenstar had killed him because he stopped being useful, and felt like it was a good riddance. It's a brutal, bitter reading that I'm fond of and plan to keep.
That said; it's still a reading, and canon is lacking in characters explicitly responding to Ravenpaw's absence. ESPECIALLY since Dustpelt is supposed to be Raven's brother.
SO in BB: I do plan for Dustpelt in particular to be reckoning with this, especially since him and Ravenpaw are the surviving kits of Chestnutface, who died in Spottedleaf's Plague. Frostfur even references the Ravenpaw slander directly to him after that "Mixed Blood" meeting he tries to pull in Po3, and the fact she snapped at Ravenpaw under Tigerclaw's influence is something she's ashamed of.
All of ThunderClan has to confront this. Even if they didn't take part in the harassment of Ravenpaw, EVERYONE was exposed to some sort of sign of Tigerclaw's behavior... they just didn't want to see it.
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When You're Smiling- Prologue
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Pairing: College!Bucky Barnes x F!reader
Synopsis: Throughout your life you have been labeled "boring" because of your quiet, thoughtful nature. For example, you weren't a fan of parties, frats or really anything that required you to be around big groups of people. But after being dragged to a party, you meet someone who seems determined to prove that you have an adventurous side as well.
Chapter Warnings: panic attack, anxiety, drinking, sexual harassment
Word Count: 1.5k
Prologue
“Please Y/n. You don’t even have to stay for that long.” Sitting on the floor of your apartment, you continued to track your eyes over the pages of your textbook. You weren’t really retaining any information, you hadn’t been since your roommate Wanda barged in five minutes ago and began pestering you to go to a frat party with her. 
“Seriously, a night out would be good for you. You don’t even have to talk to anyone, but at least leave this apartment. Honestly, it’s getting kinda sad that you just sit here with your books every night-” 
“OK.” You cut off her somewhat offensive rambling by roughly slamming your psychology textbook shut. “If you are so concerned about my social life I will, for forty five minutes, go to this party.” Wanda squealed and threw her arms around you. 
“Thank you, I promise once you get there you’ll have so much fun!” Your face remained neutral but inside your stomach was beginning to twist itself into a tight knot. There was a reason you didn’t really like parties, of course you wouldn’t judge your friends for going to as many as they could, they just weren't your scene. “-oh, I’m gonna call Nat, she can bring over some tops for you to try, let me grab my phone, I’ll be right back.” You didn’t realize you had zoned out long enough for Wanda to bring your other friend Natasha into the equation. When Wanda left the room you tried to distract yourself from spiraling by watching the rain dance against the window. This is “cozy romance novel reading” weather, not “get wasted with a bunch of randos” weather, you thought to yourself, but then instantly shook your head and brushed your glasses up to rub your eyes. Maybe you were in desperate need of a party. Or not. Because frat parties were the worst. The last one you were at was three years ago during your freshman year: you went in excited to try something new, and ended the night drenched in someone else’s beer, with tears running down your cheeks and mascara staining your face. You didn’t know who spilled beer on you, but the tears and mascara combination was courtesy of having to watch the guy you liked make out with not one, but three girls that night. To top it all off, one of your heels had snapped, forcing you to walk home in 30 degree weather with no shoes. So you weren’t a fan of frat parties, and maybe you shouldn’t base your judgements on one awful experience, but you had never been party type before and that night seemed like a sign from the universe confirming, “you and parties do NOT mix.” 
Wanda’s hurried footsteps interrupted the mental storm that had been picking up speed over the time she was absent. 
“Ok, Nat is on her way, and she’s bringing options for shirts, and I have this new pair of heels that would look so-” 
“No. No heels, sorry Wan.” You said somewhat sheepishly. You hadn’t known Wanda yet when you went through the frat debacle a couple years ago and for some reason you had elected to withhold that story from your two closest friends. You weren’t sure why you hadn’t brought it up, maybe you figured they would stop trying to force you to party every weekend, or maybe they would insist you give it another try. The latter is what you were afraid of, and knowing Nat and Wanda, the former was not likely to happen. 
Wanda gave you a curious look, but if she thought something was off she didn’t say anything. Instead, she ran to the door as a buzz sounded on the intercom. 
_________________________________________
An hour later, you were dressed in a long sleeved open back top, baggy jeans, and a pair of well loved (extremely dirty) shoes. Wanda and Nat practically dragged you out of your apartment and down the street, laughing and talking animatedly all while you stayed quiet and counted the yellow taxis that rushed past you.
When the three of you finally made it to the party, an inky darkness had settled over the city. The grass beneath your feet was still damp from that afternoon’s rain and you couldn’t help but frown at how humid it had become, dreading how suffocating it was going to be inside the house. 
“Do you wanna grab something to drink?” Nat yelled over the bass as you tried to squeeze through the crowded entryway. You were immediately overwhelmed, strobe lights were flashing against the walls, music was shaking the floor and hot, sweaty bodies kept bumping up against you. You closed your eyes in an attempt to somehow center yourself. After a few seconds of futilely waiting for a moment of peace, you let your eyelids flutter open and to your annoyance, Nat and Wanda were no longer standing beside you. You knew it wasn’t their fault, and that they would never intentionally leave you alone, but you couldn’t stop the panic that began rising in your chest from the absence of your two friends. Not knowing what else to do, you shouldered your way through the mass of drunk college students, searching for a quiet place to stand and look for Nat and Wanda. You had scouted out a small, unoccupied alcove under the stairs and made your way to it. Two steps and you would have gotten some reprieve from the chaos, but instead a tall body blocked your path and sharp brown eyes eyed you up and down. 
“Haven’t seen you at one of these yet.” His voice was slightly slurred and the mix of alcohol and cheap cologne pouring off of him was almost nauseating. “You lookin’ for someone to spend a little time with?” He asked inching closer and forcing you to press your back against the railing of the staircase. Now your breath was coming much too quick and the familiar numbness sprouting in your fingertips told you that you were on the verge of having a panic attack. You’d been through enough over the past years to recognize when one was coming. You also knew that if you could’t find a calm place to ground yourself in the next few minutes you were going to break down. With your mind in panic mode, you glanced over your shoulder and saw that the staircase you were pinned against led to a seemingly quiet hall. Deciding that was your only option, you shoved the guy’s chest and used his sluggish, drunken state as an opportunity to escape his grasp and head towards the stairs. You jumped over the “Stay Downstairs or Thor Will Kick Your Ass” sign that was haphazardly strung across the bottom entryway and took the stairs two at a time to get to the hall. There were no lights on in the corridor, but the strobes from the party downstairs provided you with enough light to find a doorknob. You desperately pushed on the door, but it was locked, so you ran to the next one, only to find yourself in the same situation. You didn’t notice the faint glow under the third door you tried and you almost cried in relief when the knob turned without any resistance.
You hurried into the room and closed the door, pressing your back against the cool wood and shutting your eyes. Starting at 100, you took a deep breath and exhaled counting backwards by three in your head. In your anxious state, you barely noticed the tears that were rushing down your cheeks. And you really had not noticed that you weren’t alone in this room. 
“Uh, is everything- are you ok?” A baritone voice caused your eyes to shoot open as you desperately tried to figure out its source through your blurred vision. Bringing your hands to your eyes you began to furiously wipe away the tears, ignoring the slight burning caused by the friction from your shirt against your skin. 
“Hey, whoah, hold on, you're gonna hurt yourself.” The voice said again, this time with more urgency. Suddenly, a pair of warm hands wrapped carefully around your wrists, gently pulling your hands away from your face. You were able to blink back enough tears to make out a head of blonde hair, broad shoulders, and kind blue eyes. The man in front of you continued to coax you down from your panic, and slowly the tears stopped falling while your breaths evened out. As embarrassed as you were that this kind man had to witness your anxiety attack you were grateful for his help. But just as you began to offer your thanks the door was thrown open, and a deep voice shouted over the blaring music downstairs. 
“Steve, what the hell are you doing locked away in your-” his words trailed off as his cerulean blue eyes landed on your tear stained face…
Chapter One coming this week!
tags~
@vicmc624 / @sjsmith56
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Dante x Reader
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In which you are the pizza delivery man. Enjoy.
It was 3 AM and you had no idea why you couldn't just go home already. You worked at a pizza joint that the higher ups insisted on having open 24/7. You were on the night shift but you were so bored. After all, who orders food at this time of night? You were fiddling on your phone while your boss came in, surprising you.
It turns out that some mad man actually had requested delivery so you would need to head out once the order was finished being prepared. Twenty minutes later and you grabbed your coat along with the pizza box. "They don't pay me enough for this..." You entered your car and looked down at the handwritten note. "Who the hell doesn't even give an address? I'm supposed to drive all over Red Grave to find some place called Devil May Cry?"
You groaned. This would be a long night. Fourty five minutes of driving and you realized that the place must be in the bad part of town. "No wonder the guy didn't give an address. Who wants to get mugged or stabbed? I better make this quick!" Luckily you kept a pocket knife on you just in case a situation should arise. Another twenty minutes and you finally saw the giant, neon sign.
You glanced at the street to make sure you weren't going to be attacked by some crack head and end up on a world star video. "All clear." You were somewhat relived. "Now to get this over with so I can go home!" You made your way to the door and knocked. No response. "You've gotta be kidding me!"
You went to bang again this time but the door opened and your fist collided with a huge chest. It was so squishy that the recoil knocked your arm backwards, causing you to punch yourself in the face. "You okay man?" You waited for stars to leave your vision so you could get a good look at whatever the hell you just hit. It seemed to be a man in his fourties maybe? You weren't exactly sure how old but his hair was already gray.
He then woke you out of your thoughts. "Oh man. Is that a black eye? I've got some ice if you want it." You shook your head and told him you were fine. You would just be happy as soon as this nightmare was over. "My names Dante by the way." Dante? The same Dante who frequently called up your work over fifty times per week? The employees shuddered whenever they had to slave over another one of his exhausting orders.
"No olives right?" You remembered the last time a coworker accidentally added that ingredient. It's been three months since they were last seen. You opened up the box hesitantly and prayed to every God you could think of. You eventually opened your eyes. Thank God it was just pepperoni. "No olives sir."
You calculated his total and then told him the amount due. "Look, here's the thing. I don't really have money right now. Can I pay you some other way?" Now you were pissed. Who the hell orders food without any money! You then felt your hand be pressed to Dante's Tarzan style. That's when you finally took notice of what he had been wearing. A red thong with a matching velvet, bath robe.
He then started palming your crotch with his other hand. "Now that I think about it, I'd like to add some sausage to my order if you know what I mean..." You were too stunned to move or speak. "I thought this shit only happened in movies!" Just before he could continue, you heard a loud scream from upstairs. "DANTE I SWEAR ON MOTHER'S GRAVE THAT I WILL STAB YOU AGAIN IF YOU DON'T STOP HARASSING THE DELIVERY BOYS! NOW SHUT UP AND LET ME ENJOY WILLIAM BLAKE IN PIECE!"
More shouting soon followed. "HE'S DOING IT AGAIN! HOW MANY TIMES DO WE HAVE TO TEACH YOU THIS LESSON OLD MAN!" Soon Dante was being dragged away by a younger man who coincidentally also had the same hair colour. He pulled out a robotic arm somehow (you weren't sure why you were still surprised at this point) and switched it with a can of raid.
"FUCK YOU!" Soon Dante was knocked out and laying unconscious on the floor. The younger man then took notice of you. "Shit, sorry about that. How much did he owe you?" He soon pulled out a wad of cash that was at least three times the size of the bill. The man looked at you with a face that said "please don't call the cops!" He shut the door and you went back to your car, trying to process the events you just witnessed. You were never going to be able to enjoy pizza again.
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anonymous-dee · 2 years
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Actions and Consequences (Mammon/Reader)
Summary: You try to stick up for Mammon after watching him get bullied by some girls at school! But of course, you're only human.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: BLOOD, VIOLENCE, GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS, DISASSOCIATION(?)
You thought you could do it. You thought you could pull it off. You wanted to prove it to yourself, but...
You failed.
This wasn’t a big deal, no, you were fine, you could--
You pressed a bunched up washcloth to your side, hissing at the sharp pain. Crimson dribbled into the white cloth, dying it the color of your desperation. The RAD bathroom door swung open, and three demons’ heels clacked along the black tile floors as they rushed in.
“Are they in here?”
You pressed your free hand across your lips to muffle your occasional squeaks of pain and begged that they couldn’t smell the fresh scent of human blood.
Luckily, the demons who attacked you were in so much of a rush to find you that, by some slim grace of the Celestial Realm, they neglected to check the stalls and ran back into the hallway.
You exhaled a shaky breath. If they had found you...
No. They hadn’t found you. That was the important part.
You turned your attention back towards your open wound, which had soaked through the washcloth completely and was showing no signs of stopping soon.
“Completely useless... I just wanted to...” Cringing at your own words, a tear slipped. Then two. Then many.
*
“Pfft. I heard that he’s sleeping with witches for money.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me-- Oh! Look, someone even posted a picture online!”
“He’s going into that witch’s house! The rumor is true after all!”
Three snickering voices boomed, Mammon clearly in their hearing range. You watched the ordeal go down from a distance. Was he being bullied? How did Lucifer not know about this?
One of the demons clenched Mammon’s shoulder, prodding the flesh with her nails.
Mammon cringed, but did nothing.
“... ain’t true...”
You could have sworn he mumbled something, but it was barely audible.
The bell chimed out, and you knew that if you were late to your Spell-casting class one more time you would be stuck in after school detention for the rest of the evening. But... You couldn’t just let this go!
After the demons had their fun harassing Mammon, (you were surprised he barely put up a fight; he’s usually the first to disengage any and all accusations thrown his way!) Mammon sulked off into the nearest classroom.
You weren’t going to let those demon girls bully Mammon on your watch! You knew he was already dealing with a full plate at home...
“Hey, you can’t talk to him that way.” As soon as Mammon was out of sight, you revealed yourself.
*
That was how it happened. You knew you weren’t strong enough to take on all three of them. Deep inside, you knew that even with your magic, it wasn’t enough to save your fragile human skin.
The leader of their pack tore a single scratch into your side. One hit. One hit was all it took, and she barely had to lift a finger.
“Pathetic...” You whimper to yourself, your vision spiraling. Blood loss. There really was no way you were going to get out of this situation by yourself. And when those girls decide to backtrack and check the stalls...
Begrudgingly, you dropped the washcloth, sticking your finger into the gaping wound. You couldn’t concentrate enough to remember that healing spell. You probably didn’t even have enough strength to cast it.
Was this it, then? Was this where you were going to die? Part of you found it unbelievable; an overreaction propelled through adrenaline, but... Nobody knew where you were... Wait.
Sliding a bloodied hand into your pocket, you pulled out your DDD.
“Karasu... call Mammon.”
“CALLING MAMMONEY DOLLAR SIGN EMOJI DOLLAR SIGN EMOJI, MOBILE...”
The deafening silence was interrupted in intervals, the staccatoed ringing transmission echoing off the bathroom walls.
.
.
.
“(Y/N)?”
You weren’t expecting Lucifer’s voice on the other end of the line. Before you had a chance to speak, he continued.
“You’re probably wondering why it’s me. I confiscated Mammon’s DDD because he was caught skipping class yesterday. He’ll be getting it back if he gets perfect attendance for the day.”
“O-Oh...” You coughed, and although you assumed the cut wasn’t lethally deep, the blood dribbling down your lip indicated otherwise.
“Speaking of attendance, where are you calling from? Why aren’t you in class?”
You hesitated. A punishment was surely on its way, but maybe if you told him the truth you would be spared.
But as you opened your mouth to explain, your vision blurred over; the bathroom walls were melting into trees, the floor below your bottom softening as clumps of grass sprouted from the tile.
In seconds, you were no longer in the RAD school bathroom-- or were you? You never left, but all of a sudden you were in a different location.
The phone was still pressed against your ear, your side still gushing.
Why were you in pain again?
“Luci..fer? Remember that time when...” a pleasant memory emerged to fill in the gaps, “when Mammon made us breakfast?”
The event was seemingly insignificant, but in that moment you fell back into the grass and pleasant memories tickled you all over.
“(Y/N), that did not answer my question. Why aren’t you in class?”
“And--And then he tried to garnish with edible gold flakes and Asmo freaked out ‘cause he thought Mammon stole his eyeshadow.”
“That was this morning,” said Lucifer, though you were unable to recognize the hint of worry laced in his voice.
The sun kissed your cheeks, and you wanted to fall asleep in the meadow.
“I wish you could join me here... It’s so nice. Sun and grass and stuff. Oh, you’re right over there...”
“Please, (Y/N). I have work to get done. I will talk to you about this prank of yours later today, and you will tell me exactly why you skipped your--”
“Luci,” you disregarded his attempt to hang up the phone, “I miss Mammon.”
Something wasn’t right. At the thought of your favorite white haired demon, the pain on your side reverberated deeper into the canal of your side. But this was the meadow, how could anything be less than perfect?
Flashes of cold tile electrocuted your senses in quick staccato beats; one minute you were staring up at the sun, and the next you were glaring at the harsh bathroom lights. The transitions were nauseatingly quick, but the sensation of each setting felt so real that it was like being in two places at the same time.
“Mammon...” muttering the name again made the sensation worse. The flashes quickened, and the scenery was cloaking itself in thick red splotches. Fleshy, gorey trees and walls with sentient eyes sticking out of their lifeless bodies. “Mammon...? Mammon? Mammon!”
Your breath hitched in your throat--Lucifer was saying something on the phone, but the device had clattered to the floor in an attempt to cover your eyes from the grotesque seizure of images assaulting your eyes.
Even as your eyes closed, however, the images permeated through your lids, and distorted demonic voices crept through your ears. They whispered of the sweet nothings of the meadow, though their raspy, crackled chords sent shivers up the back of your neck.
Your wound was festering, though it was only bleeding minutes prior. Festering, rotting flesh burned your vision, and you had no idea where you were anymore.
You weren’t sure if the voices were yours or not; someone was screaming, another was like nails on a chalkboard-- were those tears dripping down your cheeks, or was hot blood pooling from your eyes?
Was your breathing becoming erratic and disfigured, or were your lungs being torn apart by your own screams? Endless, unanswerable questions drilled into the back of your mind in an unreachable cavern. There was no time for rational thinking when your entire body was rotting into the grass-tile and the sun was burning holes into your melting eyeballs.
Your body carried no weight and at the same time it felt ten times heavier. Gravity was hugging you in a simple embrace, and although you knew the way out would be to leave, there was no more left or right.
There was no escape from this lucid reality anymore. It was consuming you. There was no more time, no more feeling and yet every ounce of fear still wriggled in every crevice of your consciousness. No more telling how long or short you had been here, or how long there was left to endure.
Splotches of distant memories still fizzled in and out, as if your brain was trying to fight back against the loss of everything else.
.
.
.
Warm.
Familiar.
You opened your eyes-- for real this time. The hallucinations had retreated for now. You were still collapsed on the sleek floors, though Mammon was there. And he was embracing you tightly. Lucifer stood behind him, lurking in his usual stoic manner. But his face told you he was panicked. Not himself, for sure.
“What a nasty fuckin’ curse,” Mammon dug his face into your shoulder, “I’ll make ‘em pay.”
You said nothing, still coming down from... the curse?
“No need.” Lucifer placed a gloved hand on Mammon’s shoulder. It wouldn’t be audible to most, but you could distinctly hear the slight tremble in his voice, “Diavolo is going to expel them. Probably something worse too.”
Both of them settled on you; your shaken form, eyes wide and alert.
“Are ya okay?” Mammon was unusually honest, you weren’t sure if you had ever seen him act this way in front of Lucifer.
Regardless, you weren’t sure who would be okay after going through that Hellscape. You shook your head. Not the answer either of them wanted to hear, but...
“The curse is expelled now. We also healed your wound,” said Lucifer, pointing to where the gash had been moments prior. (Or at least it felt like a few seconds ago).
“Those girls... did this?”
Lucifer nodded.
A flash of rage swept over you, but quickly subsided. You were too exhausted to feel anything else. You palmed at the sweat pooling over your forehead, opting to lean away from Mammon’s grip.
Your eyes were distant.
“Let’s take them home, Mammon. They need to rest properly.” In times like these, Lucifer took his oldest-brother role very seriously. And although he was shaken to the core, he had to bottle it inside. If he broke down here, Mammon didn’t stand a chance-- the second oldest was already on the verge of a breakdown.
*
Mammon laid you in your bed.
Lucifer allowed you both to have the rest of the day off. Mammon also got his DDD back, but neither one could have cared less at that moment.
Usually Mammon would have had some sly remark to help cheer you up (as he did during many of your frustrating, sad, or anxiety-induced days), but today he had nothing.
With a curt nod, he turned to leave you to your own devices, but you reached out and grabbed his hand.
“P-Please...” Heat rose to your cheeks, but in actuality you couldn’t stand the thought of being alone right now. You needed him.
For once, Mammon got the hint.
He slid into bed next to you, and you buried your face into his warm chest. You normally wouldn’t have this much courage, but...
“O-Of course you can’t resist The Great Mammon...” he mumbled. There it was.
You nodded, unwilling to look him in the eyes. Instead, you grabbed his hand and locked your fingers together. His palms were so warm, they were oddly calming. Heat was radiating off of his body, which was normal from your experience but you also liked to imagine he was really embarrassed on top of that.
“(Y/N)... Why did those girls attack you?” asked Mammon.
Your throat suddenly felt dry. Perhaps it was dry the whole time, but Mammon’s question brought your attention to it
“I saw them... in the hallway. They were hurting you.” You bit your lip. “S-So I confronted them. Y’know, I just thought--”
“(Y/N)... Ya didn’t have to do that... for me...”
“Of course I did!” You shot up from your position, surprising both of you in the process. You weren’t sure where that jolt of energy came from, but you also knew you would confront them again if you were given the opportunity. “They can’t just do that!”
Mammon shrugged. You could tell he was used to it.
“Ya got hurt... ‘cause of me.”
You collapsed back down onto the bed, “No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Whatever.” Mammon scrunched his face into a mocking frown, and you pecked his nose for the ultimate blow. You had won.
Despite his protest, you could tell he was secretly admiring your courage. Or he was shocked that someone, anyone, let alone YOU would stand up for him like that.
“Mammon?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.” The words sprouted from your lips, never before spoken with the same sincerity. You had said it before, but this time it was coming from the deepest depths of your heart. “I love you so damn much.”
💕 Back at it again with me posting my Archive fics on here! YEEEEEEET I love Mammon very much 💛💛💛
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frukmerunning · 1 month
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You ship Romano with someone who was a grown man when he was a child and yet you teach young children every day. I would be unsurprised if we saw you on the news one day.
First of all, this response came in lightning quick so maybe just block me instead of lurking on my blog when you clearly know that I ship something you dislike.
Second, I teach high schoolers and I've been pretty clear about that so get your facts straight.
So there's this concept that might interest you called separating fiction from reality. In case you hadn't noticed, Spain and Romano are fictional characters from an anime, not real life people. The things I like in fiction have no bearing on what I think is acceptable in reality. There are a lot of characters with large age gaps in fiction that I ship (like Spain and Romano), but at the end of the day I'm still looking at my 18 year old seniors like they're little kids and would be appalled at them dating someone my age, because they're real and Spain and Romano aren't. I could end this argument right here because that's all that needs to be said, but I'll go on because it amuses me. Spain and Romano are both hundreds, if not over 1000, years old. Their concept of time and aging could be completely different to ours, and that happens to be my interpretation. Also, I OBVIOUSLY don't ship them when Romano is a literal fucking child. In the present day strips Romano is also a grown man who can make his own decisions, and in case you've never actually seen the anime - he and Spain are quite close! He's closer to Spain than to his own brother!
As to your point about seeing me on the news - To say that is DISGUSTING in a time where there are so many actual predators in the education industry. I take so much pride in my relationship with all of my students, and it's people like you who baselessly throw these words around that are making these kinds of relationships impossible. You waste so much time attacking someone you don't even know for shipping two characters in an anime. If you actually care about young people in this way you would be educating them on the REAL signs of predatory behavior in adults, in addition to online safety. But you aren't, are you? You're harassing people over an anime ship and making no real contribution to society, because you get a high off of your fake activism.
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Do you wanna hear what I think is my most unpopular PJO opinion? (don't get me wrong, I have some that would get me on lists, but this one is likely the one that would get the least traction):
Generally, demigods like quests.
(Insert booing noises here.)
Let me make my arguments:
We've all taken Annabeth's statement that campers train for the opportunity to fight monsters like the Minotaur to be a sign of how naive and headstrong she is. And... it is, but where did we get the impression that she was also the only one who thought like that?
Luke
Ironically enough, Luke's the biggest proof there is for my theory. Let's see how Luke talks about his quest.
Let’s just say I messed things up for everybody else. The last two years, ever since my trip to the Garden of the Hesperides went sour, Chiron hasn’t allowed any more quests.
Two things jump out here. While it's possible that "Chiron hasn't allowed any more quests" refers to putting his foot down and not allowing the gods to demand any, given Annabeth's attitude (and the likelihood of that holding much water with the gods), it's even more likely that it's the campers who aren't allowed to go. Luke certainly believes that he ruined things for the others by causing the ban.
Then, at the forest with Percy:
I trained, and trained, and trained. I never got to be a normal teenager, out there in the real world. Then they threw me one quest, and when I came back, it was like, ‘Okay, ride’s over. Have a nice life.’ “The heck with laurel wreaths,” Luke said. “I’m not going to end up like those dusty trophies in the Big House attic.”
Let me remind you that Luke is 19 here. There's no way Chiron and Mr. D could be holding him against his will at Camp the way they were, for example, with Annabeth and Percy at the beginning of the book. Annabeth also says that other counselors were in college, lending credence to the fact that, especially when they were older, they were free to come and go.
This is not Luke saying that he doesn't want to be stuck at camp. He's saying he doesn't want to end up on the shelf.
“You’re wrong. [Kronos] showed me that my talents are being wasted. You know what my quest was two years ago, Percy? My father, Hermes, wanted me to steal a golden apple from the Garden of the Hesperides and return it to Olympus. After all the training I’d done, that was the best he could think up.”
“Where’s the glory in repeating what others have done? All the gods know how to do is replay their past. My heart wasn’t in it. The dragon in the garden gave me this”—he pointed angrily at his scar—“and when I came back, all I got was pity.
His complaint with the quest? It was not "my dad used me as a tool" or "he put me in danger" — it was "the one he chose showed that I'm an afterthought to him". It was "he gave me no glory or recognition".
Also, "After all the training I’d done, that was the best he could think up"? Sounds a lot like quests weren't so much errand runs as rewards or shows of recognition by the gods.
But that's not the only interesting thing to happen in that conversation!
Percy
After a while Luke said, “You miss being on a quest?” “With monsters attacking me every three feet? Are you kidding?” Luke raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I miss it,” I admitted. “You?”
Mister "I never wanted to be a half-blood" himself! (Almost as if characters are meant to change throughout a story... huh.) And let's remember this is Luke he's talking to — the only person he revealed his prophecy to. He has a history of trusting him over anyone else. There's nothing in this scene that points to him being anything but honest.
Putting aside Percy's hero complex that will have him harassing the Oracle so it will give him a quest because he's unable to stand by the sideline as his friends are in danger, how other people have pointed out that Percy was the one to propose and sometimes even force himself into most of his quests — I never saw anyone mention his admission that he liked them, at least the first one. Now, of course, it's undeniable that he does eventually get tired of it, but... to what extent, really? In TLO, he says he's ready to kick back and enjoy himself, but that's in reference to the Great Prophecy. It doesn't have both capitalization and the word great in it for nothing.
Then in Staff of Hermes:
If he was delivering a message in person from the gods, it was bad news. If he wanted something from me, it was also bad news. But seeing as he’d just saved me from explaining myself to Annabeth, I was too relieved to care.
Sure, he doesn't want a quest, but it's still preferable to a difficult conversation with his girlfriend. It's only when they really start to pile up and interfere seriously with his normal life (by, say, making him miss most of a year) that he puts his foot down.
But his is ultimately an unusual case, because others aren't as affected by their own quests.
"Except for how they're risking their lives!" you say, but...
How dangerous are normal quests?
Because all signs point to Percy's being an outlier. For starters, as a powerful child of the Big Three, he attracts more monsters than your regular demigod, and that's without taking into account the gods who hate him for it.
Then there's the fact that Kronos's rise has stirred up monster activity
“I saw a lot out there in the world, Percy,” Luke said. “Didn’t you feel it — the darkness gathering, the monsters growing stronger? Didn’t you realize how useless it all is?"
As well as brought older, stronger monsters out of the woodwork.
"The stirring of monsters." Dr. Thorn smiled evilly. "The worst of them, the most powerful, are now waking. Monsters that have not been seen in thousands of years..."
Not to mention that most of Percy's quests that we've seen involved jumping straight into a scheme by an ancient, powerful titan by the moniker "the Crooked One".
Compare them to The Stolen Chariot. That was... fun, all in all. An afternoon visit to the zoo. Got him out of class early. What if that's the standard for a quest?
However, the biggest argument for quests being usually pretty simple is, once again, Luke. Let's go back to that first quote.
Let’s just say I messed things up for everybody else. The last two years, ever since my trip to the Garden of the Hesperides went sour, Chiron hasn’t allowed any more quests.
So, quests were more or less normal two years before TLT, before they were forbidden, like the chariot races, because it was judged unacceptably dangerous. So, it could be that Luke's was the last in a recent string of injuries (possible — he said himself that already the world was becoming "darker" by the time of his quest) and/or it was considered to be bad enough in itself to justify ending quests entirely. Whatever the explanation, for all the "yeah, we make a shroud whenever someone goes on a quest" rituals, Luke's injury had to have been grisly by their standards.
Like. Not to diminish it, but. It's a scar across the face. It doesn't even seem to have affected his eyesight.
Everything points to...
That your average camper, before Kronos, would have either volunteered or been selected by the gods (probably their parent) to go on quests as recognition of their skills and a chance to earn glory. OH, and don't forget a chance to be a hero. That's important. After all, you don't wanna end up in the Fields of Asphodel because your life was too boring, do you?
TL; DR: The attitude towards quests and even probably the experience surrounding them are much different than we treat them in fandom.
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ash5monster01 · 10 months
Note
Ashley my love. I recently reread your masterlist, YOU ARE FANTASTIC. Just needed to shout that out =) I've got an idea for a story. Don't know if you like it but I give it a try, especially after discovering that Miles Teller is on your character List????? Omg yeah. Here it comes:
Miles and reader are best friends since for ever and always more than happy to film together. Her excitement is marred by a new regisseur who gives her instantly a bad feeling (guy is flirting with her, gives her creepy looks and stares whenever he gets the chance). The whole situation is getting worse when gets touchy and handsy and when he corners her when she's alone. The creep harasses her and even threatenes her that when she's not dating him or be more friendly to him he will end her career. Miles notices that there's a change in the behavior of his normally bubbly sunshine best friend. Got more details in my mind, but that doesn't mean that you have to use them in any way!!!!!! I imagine that Miles and her always sharing an apartment when they're together, so he notices her sleeping not well, hearing her having nightmares. But she always brushes him off. One day he finds her having a panic attack behind her trailer (the creep just touched her rough and claim her dating him)....yeah well I need some good angst, drama, some hurt and an protective Miles, a fluffy end mayhabs?!
Love ya girl, it would ne fantastic if you let me know if you like my idea
Not Yourself
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Pairing: Miles Teller x FemReader
Warnings: 18+ due to heavier themes, mentions of SA, abuse, depression, language, control issues, gaslighting, fluff
Summary: Being best friends for a long time can be like wearing rose colored glasses, ignoring the fact that feelings can change, touches can become more, and love can evolve into an entirely different thing. Some people ignore these signs for their entire lives but when Miles notices you’re not the same bubbly girl anymore he discovers a sad truth and in the midst of it all he can’t deny how he feels about you any longer.
a/n: I've had this request for ages and I am so sorry, I am busy literally all of the time and try to keep up with my own series and requests all the time. plz enjoy now that it is finally here xx
word count: 3,038
Masterlist
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It’s been three weeks. Three weeks since you stopped smiling as much, since you stopped looking him in the eye, since you stopped laughing at his jokes, since you stopped spending time with him, since you had a full night of sleep. He had heard you, crying, having nightmares, your sobs barely muffled by the door. He wished he could figure out when it all changed. Everything was fine. You both landed another project together, found a perfect apartment to use while filming, you had been so happy. It was the two of you against the world like always. Yet now it’s as if the sun didn’t shine and because of your broken smile the world couldn’t really thrive.
Being an actor in this industry was hard, you had heard the horror stories, yet you still took it on knowing you had your bestfriend by your side. From highschool plays until now you were continuing to face the craziness of this job head on. Luckily enough with him by your side, landing new projects together left and right. You figure you had gotten too comfortable, too blind with happiness to see the warning signs, too scared to say no when one of the producers had asked you on a date. You figured one date couldn't hurt, that you could just go and keep your job, make up an excuse to get out of a second date, but it was too late. You had let him in and now he held the power. He held more weight in the bustling world of show business and now his threats of debunking your career were enough to scare you silly.
It was supposed to be the fun part of the date, the walking you to the doorstep, pink cheeks hidden by the dark of the night and revealed in the glow of street lamps, a shy kiss shared under the porchlight. Instead it was a tight grip around your wrist, back pressed into the hard brick of the home, wide eyes, as he threatens to end your career if you don't date him. Then you finally realize all that flirting and staring he had done on set was more creepy and forceful than anything. Blood pulsing through your veins you agreed, a harsh and unwanted kiss forced upon your lips. You waited till he got in his car and left before breaking down in tears on the front steps. You had promised yourself you wouldn't be one of those Hollywood horror stories and yet here you were, blindsided, and completely alone. You couldn’t even tell Miles, the keeper to every secret and embarassing story in your life. Once you realized this you waited until the living room lights turned off before entering the home and hiding in your room so he couldn't see the heartbroken look on your face.
Now it had been three weeks of this torture. Unwarranted touching and kissing all over set and it was as if nobody noticed or they ignored it for their own benefit. That broke you more than anything. The only person to inquire about your change in demeanor your best friend Miles, but you denied him every time. Assuring him everything was okay even though it definitely wasn't. Your only safe place was your room at night, but the abuse had followed you into your dreams, nightmares startling you awake until you were too scared to fall sleep, tears taking place of sleep. So you learned to live with the pain, but the thing about holding everything in means it dulls the parts of you that shine brighter. It’s harder to smile when something so heavy sits on the weight of your shoulders. You just prayed nobody would really notice.
Opening your trailer door you were prepared to make it to set, thankful you were a good enough actor that your emotions hadn't tainted your performance. Least expected as always, the strong grip curled around your wrist, and practically tugged you off the trailer steps before pulling you around and out of sight of anyone passing by. Your heart instantly quickened and suddenly you were slammed against the cool metal of the trailer before his large hand wrapped around your ass. You let out a shaky breath due to the close proximity and he snarled in your face. Barring his teeth like a wild animal and you were instantly fear stricken, frozen in place, and prepared for more trauma to add to your plate. Another nightmare brewing just at the edge of your fingertips, not even your work place safe from the abuse.
"You look good today, just for me?" his hand squeezed tighter, heavy breaths landed on your face. Your stomach churned with disgust over his weird attraction towards you. "Bet you sat in that makeup chair, begging them to make you look good so I could have something to see"
His other hand finally let go of your wrist, wrapping around your neck, the coolness of his rings practically stinging you by the touch. You shuddered as his face closed in, warm mouth landing on your neck as he left wet kisses, devouring you like a meal in the worst way. You prayed it would be enough, that he would leave, but then his hand was gripping your chin, mouth landing againt your own, and tongue shoving inside your mouth despite how hard you tried to keep your lips closed. Tears burned at the back of your eyes but you knew not to let them fall, to not give him the satisfaction. After what felt like hours he finally let go, backing off with a sly smile on his face. Hiding your shuddering body he pointed in your direction.
"Keep that pretty little mouth shut" he sneered and then he was gone, leaving you behind the trailer in a broken heap, heart racing, and life ruined. Once you could no longer hear his footsteps you were on your knees, tears free falling as sobs raked your body. You couldn’t control it as the panic rushed through, anxiety closing your airways, as you tried to wrap your mind around what had just happened. Unexpected and harmful all the same. You were late for your scene, but as the panic attack set in you had no part of you that could care.
As for Miles he knew you'd never be late to a scene, you didn't want to be one of those dramatic Hollywood stars that let the fame get to your head. So when it had been ten minutes and you still weren't there the panic set in. He told the director he was off to find you and before he could protest Miles was out the door and running to your trailer. Without knocking he forced himself inside but you were not there, sighing he walked back out and that’s when he heard a cry. Just not any cry though, the same ones he had heard from your bedroom every night. Bending down he looked under the trailer to see you were behind it, a heap in the gravel as you cried your eyes out.
"Y/N!" he was around the trailer in a flash, dropping beside you as he cradled you in his arms. You cried against him, barely aware he was even there. He found tears seeping out of his own eyes as he tried to determine what was wrong with his best friend, his oldest friend, the girl he loved more than anything in the world.
"Miles" you finally cried, gripping onto him like he could disappear any second, and he found himself lifting his head, trying to calm his heart and he let it settle in that something was really really wrong.
"Y/N I want to help you but I need you to tell me what’s wrong" he finally said, pulling you close and rubbing a hand through your hair.
"I will, I promise, just not here. Please not hear, when we're home" you begged and he heard the desperation in your voice, the fear that strangled you from telling him the truth he needed three weeks ago.
"Okay, at home. You can tell me then, just please calm down" he cried and you nodded againt his chest, counting your breaths like you had practiced. He held you through it, silent as he allowed you support while you did what you needed to do. Finally you gave him a nod and he helped you to your feet. He wished you would tell the directors you were sick, that you’d do the scene tomorrow but he knew youd be mad that he suggested it so he walked you that direction anyway, wiping tears from his eyes and painting a fake smile on his face and he realized that's exactly what you had been doing the last three weeks.
After that you both had been jittery getting through the day. Finally the director called it and awkwardness enveloped you as you collected your things and headed towards Miles Bronco together. He did his best to keep silent as he drove you through the busy LA streets, driving towards the safe haven you both shared. Miles did his best to keep his mouth shut as he locked his car and unlocked the apartment door. You were very clealry distraught and he watched as you dumped your things on the kitchen counter, the weight of the world crushing you into the ground. So he moved towards the couch, very obviously leaving the seat open beside him for you to take and start explaining yourself. You knew not to fight it, you had made a promise, and you never broke a promise with Miles.
"I'm not taking anymore bullshit Y/N, I want the truth and all of it right now" he finally broke the silence as you took your seat beside him. Hugging a pillow to your chest, tears lined your eyes as you finally told him everything from the beginning. Miles did his best to not get angry and interrupt as you told your truth, the weight of the news much heavier than he expected.
"For three weeks, that's almost a whole month Y/N" guilt bloomed through your body and he pressed his head in his hands, trying to not let the anger consume him. Yet as he thought of how angry he was he was able to recognize the jealous pull. That some bastard got to kiss you without permission when he's been wanting to kiss you the way a real man should since college. He had never realized that he had hid that from himself all these years, denied himself of recognizing his attraction towards you. Stopped himself from loving you, and maybe if he didn't do that this would've never happened.
"I was scared he would hurt me, we were always alone" you told him, wanting him to know that you wanted him to know but sometimes fear controlled you in ways you couldn't explain.
"I was right inside that first night, I could've come out and stopped him" Miles argued and that’s when it hit him. The front porch, the doorbell, his phone. His eyes widened and you watched as his thoughts danced across his face.
"What is it?" you asked and without answering he rushed to his room, plugging in his phone as he opened the app that could hold the key to everything.
"Don't worry Y/N, I got a plan" sighing you let him hide out, making yourself some dinner. and trying to go to sleep despite knowing a nightmare would awake you soon. Yet when you woke up Miles was snoring softly beside you in your bed. A wave of calm rushed over you and you scooted closer before falling alseep again, the first real rest you had gotten in a long time.
When you woke up to your alarm he was no longer there, his car not even in the driveway. You figured he had early scenes and you had forgot. So you got ready, tried to slow your heart as you made your way to set, trying to prepare yourself for another day of torture. Yet before you could be called to set a knock sounded at your door, a worker telling you that you were needed in the table read room, a meeting with the show runners. Realizing that you were more than likely going to be fired you allowed a few tears to fall as you made your way in that direction. Your situation did not look good as you spotted the director, all the producers including your own abuser, and Miles all sat around the table.
"We're glad you could join us Y/N, have a seat" the director told you and you nodded, scurrying to the open seat beside Bradley.
"Usually we don't call meetings until production time John, what is it" one of the producers asked the director and John gave you a soft smile.
"Miles came forward to me today with some information I think we can't ignore" he finally said and your heart doubled in speed as you realized what he had done, started a battle you would never win without any evidence. "Mr. Conway here has been harrassing Y/N for the last three weeks, threatening to debunk her career if she told anyone"
"Oh this is bullshit and you know it" Conway said, but everyone clear as day could see the fear across his face.
"Miles has also provided evidence" John said before clicking the screen, ring doorbell footage of the first night appearing on screen. Miles hand wrapped around your own, knowing this would be tough to watch. It was hard for him to watch himself, crying the moment he realized you sat outside in tears waiting for him to go to bed.
The group watched as you and Conway approached the door holding hands, they all watched as his smile turned into a growl as he shoved you against the wall, fear clear as day on your face and he got so close you were breathing each others air. "If you don't agree to dating me I will proceed to make your life a living hell, you'll never be hired ever again, people will think of how trrible you are, your fans will hate you, after tonight your mine and if you tell absolutely anybody it’s game over, you'll never amount to anything ever again"
Then they all watched as you frantically nodded and he forced himself on you, you clearly trying to push him away. Then they watched him harshly release you, walk to his car, as you clearly sobbed on the front porch. John ending the video before they could see anymore, you clearly distraught from reliving that moment.
"We're going to allow Y/N to decide if she wants to press charges and I am fully prepared to pause production if you aren't willing to immediately terminate him" John informed them and you felt your heart warm over at the thought of him protecting you.
"We understand completely, Conway you’re fired. Have your things packed by the end of the day and be expecting a court order coming your way" relief washed over you completely as Conway sat there, shock all over him. Miles pulled you into a hug, Conway leaving the room with profanities falling from his mouth.
"We're sorry for this Y/N, if you need anything at all we're here for you. We will also testify in court if you choose to go in that direction" you nodded as they also got up and left the room. John placed a comforting hand on your back before leaving as well, a true hero in this situation.
"I can't believe you came forward for me" you told Miles, still hugging him like your life depended on it.
"I had too, your my bestfriend. I love you, I have always loved you" Miles told you, pushing some hair out of your face. Losing you was never an option.
"What if your plan didn't work?" you asked and he shrugged.
"Then I was quitting the movie" he told you earnestly and you smiled, pulling him tighter into your hug.
"I love you Miles" you told him and he smiled before pulling back a little.
"I know this probably isn't the right time but after all this I figure you deserve to know that I'm in love with you Y/N. I love you in that more than best friend way and after this whole disaster you deserve to know that beause you deserve to be loved the right way" for a moment you were shocked, allowing his words to sink in because there was a moment you considered you and Miles. You just figured he'd never feel the same so you brushed it off, ignoring it for the sake of your friendship.
“Are you sure?” Miles hoped that this doubt wasn’t a symptom of the last few weeks of abuse.
“Positive Y/N, it took a lot of self control to not kill that asshole” you found yourself giggling through tears, a wide smile on your face for the first time in a month.
“I love you in a more than a best friend way too Miles” you grinned at him and he smiled arms pulling you close again.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked, wanting to make sure it was okay since that asshole never did.
“Yes, please” and he didn’t need any more confirmation before his lips were on yours. Instead of holding your breath like you had been for the last three weeks you inhaled him, breathing his air like he just filled you with life after the past month of torture.
A kiss to redeem every bad one, a kiss to start the healing process, and start finding yourself again. Which you had a feeling would be better than ever considering you had finally allowed yourself to love Miles in a way you always wished you could. This time you didn’t have to look out for the warning signs because you had Miles to protect you, and look for them too.
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orions-athenaeum · 11 months
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When You're Smiling- Prologue
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Pairing: College!Bucky Barnes x F!reader
Synopsis: Throughout your life you have been labeled "boring" because of your quiet, thoughtful attitude. For example, you weren't a fan of parties, frats or really anything that required you to be around big groups of people. But after being dragged to a party, you meet someone who seems determined to prove that you have an adventurous side as well.
Chapter Warnings: panic attack, anxiety, drinking, sexual harassment
Word Count: 1.5k
Prologue
“Please Y/n. You don’t even have to stay for that long.” Sitting on the floor of your apartment, you continued to track your eyes over the pages of your textbook. You weren’t really retaining any information, you hadn’t been since your roommate Wanda barged in five minutes ago and began pestering you to go to a frat party with her. 
“Seriously, a night out would be good for you. You don’t even have to talk to anyone, but at least leave this apartment. Honestly, it’s getting kinda sad that you just sit here with your books every night-” 
“OK.” You cut off her somewhat offensive rambling by roughly slamming your psychology textbook shut. “If you are so concerned about my social life I will, for forty five minutes, go to this party.” Wanda squealed and threw her arms around you. 
“Thank you, I promise once you get there you’ll have so much fun!” Your face remained neutral but inside your stomach was beginning to twist itself into a tight knot. There was a reason you didn’t really like parties, of course you wouldn’t judge your friends for going to as many as they could, they just weren't your scene. “-oh, I’m gonna call Nat, she can bring over some tops for you to try, let me grab my phone, I’ll be right back.” You didn’t realize you had zoned out long enough for Wanda to bring your other friend Natasha into the equation. When Wanda left the room you tried to distract yourself from spiraling by watching the rain dance against the window. This is “cozy romance novel reading” weather, not “get wasted with a bunch of randos” weather, you thought to yourself, but then instantly shook your head and brushed your glasses up to rub your eyes. Maybe you were in desperate need of a party. Or not. Because frat parties were the worst. The last one you were at was three years ago during your freshman year: you went in excited to try something new, and ended the night drenched in someone else’s beer, with tears running down your cheeks and mascara staining your face. You didn’t know who spilled beer on you, but the tears and mascara combination was courtesy of having to watch the guy you liked make out with not one, but three girls that night. To top it all off, one of your heels had snapped, forcing you to walk home in 30 degree weather with no shoes. So you weren’t a fan of frat parties, and maybe you shouldn’t base your judgements on one awful experience, but you had never been party type before and that night seemed like a sign from the universe confirming, “you and parties do NOT mix.” 
Wanda’s hurried footsteps interrupted the mental storm that had been picking up speed over the time she was absent. 
“Ok, Nat is on her way, and she’s bringing options for shirts, and I have this new pair of heels that would look so-” 
“No. No heels, sorry Wan.” You said somewhat sheepishly. You hadn’t known Wanda yet when you went through the frat debacle a couple years ago and for some reason you had elected to withhold that story from your two closest friends. You weren’t sure why you hadn’t brought it up, maybe you figured they would stop trying to force you to party every weekend, or maybe they would insist you give it another try. The latter is what you were afraid of, and knowing Nat and Wanda, the former was not likely to happen. 
Wanda gave you a curious look, but if she thought something was off she didn’t say anything. Instead, she ran to the door as a buzz sounded on the intercom. 
__________________________________________
An hour later, you were dressed in a long sleeved open back top, baggy jeans, and a pair of well loved (extremely dirty) shoes. Wanda and Nat practically dragged you out of your apartment and down the street, laughing and talking animatedly all while you stayed quiet and counted the yellow taxis that rushed past you.
When the three of you finally made it to the party, an inky darkness had settled over the city. The grass beneath your feet was still damp from that afternoon’s rain and you couldn’t help but frown at how humid it had become, dreading how suffocating it was going to be inside the house. 
“Do you wanna grab something to drink?” Nat yelled over the bass as you tried to squeeze through the crowded entryway. You were immediately overwhelmed, strobe lights were flashing against the walls, music was shaking the floor and hot, sweaty bodies kept bumping up against you. You closed your eyes in an attempt to somehow center yourself. After a few seconds of futilely waiting for a moment of peace, you let your eyelids flutter open and to your annoyance, Nat and Wanda were no longer standing beside you. You knew it wasn’t their fault, and that they would never intentionally leave you alone, but you couldn’t stop the panic that began rising in your chest from the absence of your two friends. Not knowing what else to do, you shouldered your way through the mass of drunk college students, searching for a quiet place to stand and look for Nat and Wanda. You had scouted out a small, unoccupied alcove under the stairs and made your way to it. Two steps and you would have gotten some reprieve from the chaos, but instead a tall body blocked your path and sharp brown eyes eyed you up and down. 
“Haven’t seen you at one of these yet.” His voice was slightly slurred and the mix of alcohol and cheap cologne pouring off of him was almost nauseating. “You lookin’ for someone to spend a little time with?” He asked inching closer and forcing you to press your back against the railing of the staircase. Now your breath was coming much too quick and the familiar numbness sprouting in your fingertips told you that you were on the verge of having a panic attack. You’d been through enough over the past years to recognize when one was coming. You also knew that if you could’t find a calm place to ground yourself in the next few minutes you were going to break down. With your mind in panic mode, you glanced over your shoulder and saw that the staircase you were pinned against led to a seemingly quiet hall. Deciding that was your only option, you shoved the guy’s chest and used his sluggish, drunken state as an opportunity to escape his grasp and head towards the stairs. You jumped over the “Stay Downstairs or Thor Will Kick Your Ass” sign that was haphazardly strung across the bottom entryway and took the stairs two at a time to get to the hall. There were no lights on in the corridor, but the strobes from the party downstairs provided you with enough light to find a doorknob. You desperately pushed on the door, but it was locked, so you ran to the next one, only to find yourself in the same situation. You didn’t notice the faint glow under the third door you tried and you almost cried in relief when the knob turned without any resistance.
You hurried into the room and closed the door, pressing your back against the cool wood and shutting your eyes. Starting at 100, you took a deep breath and exhaled counting backwards by three in your head. In your anxious state, you barely noticed the tears that were rushing down your cheeks. And you really had not noticed that you weren’t alone in this room. 
“Uh, is everything- are you ok?” A baritone voice caused your eyes to shoot open as you desperately tried to figure out its source through your blurred vision. Bringing your hands to your eyes you began to furiously wipe away the tears, ignoring the slight burning caused by the friction from your shirt against your skin. 
“Hey, whoah, hold on, you're gonna hurt yourself.” The voice said again, this time with more urgency. Suddenly, a pair of warm hands wrapped carefully around your wrists, gently pulling your hands away from your face. You were able to blink back enough tears to make out a head of blonde hair, broad shoulders, and kind eyes. The man in front of you continued to coax you down from your panic, and slowly the tears stopped falling as your breaths evened out. As embarrassed as you were that this saint of a man had to witness your anxiety attack you were grateful for his help. But just as you began to offer your thanks the door was thrown open, and a new, deep voice shouted over the blaring music downstairs. 
“Steve, what the hell are you doing locked away in your-” his words trailed off as his steel blue eyes landed on your tear stained face…
Chapter One coming this week!
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girlwithwolftatoo · 1 year
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How Moon boys do when reader is bullied by their co-workers.
This lands pretty close home too (not work but school...) so before we start:
Warning: Adult bullying
Steven Grant:
*This precious sunray is always yelled by that awful woman at his work, and had learn how to keep some limits. The thing is, he notices you seem to be extremely tired everytime you come back, and sometimes you even have signs of cry on your face. Once can be comprehensible, but so often... it sets all his alarms on.
*The last straw is when you received an invitation to a costume party. Your coworkers insisted you on attending and, once you arrived... you were the only one in costume. They lied to make fun of you. You smile and pretend it was a good joke, but deep inside you're dying, so you make a phone call to Steven, asking him to pick you up and bring you a coat.
*"Is everthing alright, love?" he asks, your voice sounding a little broken "Y-yes... I just... it's a little bored here, just want to go home". Oh yes, of course he'll pick you up, but won't leave without saying a couple of words to those imbeciles.
*911 I want to report a massive murder... because Steven Grant had left no survivors after verbally dragging everyone at the place. He knows bullies are, inside, weak and insecure people who need to put down anyone else to feel better, so making them quiet take a little but not too much time.
*"One last thing, you better stuff your silly jokes and comments deep into your guts and do you deed in the bathroom, 'cause you're obviously using the wrong end to spit' em out".
Marc Spector:
*Nobody hurts you during his watch. Nobody. And once he figures out you're having bad experiences in your job he prepares to attack.
*And by attack I mean in a literal form. By this time London knows a thing or two about this white-clothed vigilante who appears during night and serves justice without bating an eye. Obviously your bullies have not idea that this ruthless man is, in fact, your man, and they're about to find out in a gross way.
*But being fair, Marc makes them a pretty normal warning. One day, he shows up by your work and just in time to find a couple of idiots making fun of you. "Hey" says this very menacing looking man to the cheerful crowd "I'm looking for (Y/N)". This is a trap, for they must point at you, confirming they were being mean to you and so, Marc takes a mental note of their faces.
*If the idea of you having this tall, dark and slightly dangerous boyfriend doesn't stop them from bothering you, they will receive a disturbing visit. In their homes while getting ready to sleep, while walking in the night, at the entrance of a club, all of them are approached by the Moon Knight who makes them shit on their pants. "I'm not a criminal!" "Harassing people for fun is a crime, fella. You know this person, (Y/N), right? I know them too, they're a good person, they don't deserve what you and your fucking little friends do to them. If I find out, and trust me, I will, that you keep bullying them, you'll regret it pretty soon"
Jake Lockley:
*He doesn't play nice, for they don't play nice towards you. But he's more discrete, he wants revenge for everytime he had to hold you close while you cried and said you wanted to leave your work because you were sick of them.
*Our underworld guard dog knows things, and knows how to know things. He uses all his weapons, spies, contacts, tech, Khonshu's powers if needed. He places a huge trap for those motherfuckers and he enjoys every minute of it.
*For a mysterious reason, he encourages you to go to that work meeting/casual reunion. He goes with you of course, so you don't feel anxious or something... and because he has something prepared, something very special.
*Even if your coworkers act kind when Jake is around, you know they'll find a way the next morning to bother you. Time for meal is up and you sit by a table, listening some music from a smart T.V. Suddenly, the screen goes black, and before someone can go and fix it, some interesting things begin to show up...
*All the juicy gossip is there: private messages, nasty audios, awful photographs... There's no innocent soul in that room for Jake, everyone gets exposed in front of their team and bosses, and worse part is they cannot stop the leaking for the T.V goes on even after it's disconnected, and much worse, all the information is downloaded in their cellphones for everyone to see. And of course, there's a good amount of people talking shit about the bosses and other coworkers, probably a couple of infidelities, and it unleashes the war.
*While everyone is drowned in chaos, Jake takes your hand under the table, leans and gives you a soft kiss. "If you want to, we can stare until police comes" he whispers payfuly in your ear. "Oh God Jake, what have you done?" you ask, half amused, half horrified. "Served justice, mi vida... Now..." Jake reaches out and takes a wine bottle "A toast?"
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incarnateirony · 1 year
Text
What an overview.
So let's see what we have with scripthunt now
Wiki leaking but helping lie about the pilot script to incite harassment she could have stopped at any time.
Wigglebox satellite stalking jensen and whatever the fuck that finale script stunt was and being mad 2po and wiki ever released the script that proved I was right and they were lying, which she implied she would have chosen to hide.
2po lying about--well, everything. First the M&G he tried to retaliate when he was busted lying, then just. You know. Lie after lie after lie easily disproven with receipts. Honestly just like. My whole blog vs his whole blog. My receipts vs his unsubstantiated claims. The 5K he conned people out of and then him and wigglebox lied, is a good start. It's been out for days and he still pretends no one responded.
2po's sources are violent antis that actually were threatening to cut hellers at a con for asking heller questions in a Cockles M&G. This is why his retaliation failed. Because his own sources were drunk, rabid and yelling. So his lies got outted.
working with what's basically a 4chan troll using pepe memes as his "source" against me that is actively doxxing people in a revenge quest to find my sources and not even doxxing "the right people." but sure as shit spamming their contact info into people's inboxes and making public allegations. Openly spent their time trying to get a server to hate on Misha. UPDATE: THEY RESPONDED TO LET US KNOW THEY'RE ACTUALLY A REDDIT TROLL.
An ocean of trolls that feel entitled to break historic LGBTQ DONT OUT PEOPLE rules and trying to blame everyone but themselves, including Misha, after using it to drill in more attacks on Misha. (gestures at the last few days of my inbox, and that's just the like 1/4 i replied to.) This, for the record, is the exact talking point Snot Rag kept trying to re-spin in our server (well, one of them.) So yay. You guys got used by a reddit incel to attack a guy.
Grifting tens of thousands of dollars out of fandom "for charity" which actually just lets them cruise gold panel cons, get something signed, and then return equivalent pocket change for the actual investment to the charity. (scripthunt's whole schtick.)
A good deal of that server is banned and on a revenge quest. Sins include harassing users across multiple channels, obsessive sea lioning and trolling for months on end, and trying to hijack server permissions to delete it.
Sneaking socks into multiple servers, not just mine, just general ongoing violation of privacy and trust. Doesn't end at Misha. All reporting back to 2po.
Oh yeah. Just. Excellent folks.
Update:
@louisianefille
That snotrag person messaged me back in March. Not sure when they got banned from the server, but they sent me a link to a blind item that was supposedly about J*red. IDK what they were up to/where they were going with their messages.
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sissa-arrows · 4 months
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There's currently a French actor (Gérard Depardieu) who was accused by more than a dozen women of SA throughout the years, and was even filmed in a recent documentary talking sexually about an 11 year old child. Not to mention all his other misogynist comments previous years. And now other actors and politicians are standing by him because "he did good work" and "by attacking him you are attacking art". Right, because that's all it takes to be forgiven. Even Macron defended him, not suprisingly.
This reminds me in my country men only "care" about SA when foreigners do it (read: non-white foreigners, because when German expat men were found to be running child SA rings between themselves no one talked about it), and will do everything in their power to defend eachother when it's them who are the assailants. It's so vile, like not even a week ago there was an article about a woman who was SA in an Uber, and men on social media went WE NEED TO BAN THESE RAPIST FOREIGNERS BAN EMIGRATION PROTECT OUR WOMEN then when another article mentioned it was a local suddenly they go quiet and don't speak about it further. Hm.
I have nothing to add about Depardieu (I will make a post about him but France is crossing all the limits so I have so many posts to make about so many subjects).
But it reminded me something. Yesterday a man killed his ex wife and their four children. The police knew that he was a threat and that he was violent. The far right did NOT say anything. You know why? Because all the recent crime of men killing their wife/ex wife were done by white men the latest was even done by a cop… the SECOND the guy’s id leaked and they realized he was black they ALL jumped on it. Started saying Black and Brown men are a threat to women and all. When they thought he was white crickets… nothing.
There’s a “feminist” white supremacist association. White women claiming the only threat against women are black and brown men. One of the members got violently beat up… by a white man. Cricket and they keep saying white men are not a problem and all.
They don’t care about women or children they care about blaming Black and Brown men. Had a Black or Brown actor said something like Depardieu did they would be ripping him a new one (rightfully). Depardieu sexualized a 9-10 years old little girl, talking about “her pussy” and calling her a “slut” but Macron is supporting him and saying he admire him and the people who claim to protect women and children are signing letters of support for him.
And I mentioned the far right but it’s throughout all of the political spectrum. A candidate in a leftist party in France received soooooo much hate because he is North African. It was a mess. In the middle of all that hate the party posted a communique saying that they received complain about sexual harassment from the guy’s ex. So they decided to cut him off and to replace him with a white candidate. Now replacing him with a white candidate is fishy as fuck but cutting him off is not. I mean either he is guilty and we avoiding electing a piece of shit or he is innocent and not being elected is not the end of his life. So I think the choice was right (but he should have been replaced by an other person of color). The party was like “we support women so we can’t let that happen even if he hasn’t had a trial yet better to kick him out”. Like I said it’s fair. Fast forward a couple months later. One of the member of that party is accused of beating his wife. He ADMITS it’s true. He goes on trial say it was just a couple slaps. Get judged guilty. The party refused to kick him out. He is still a member of this party. When we said that he should be kicked out they said “justice will do the job not us” and then when he was judged guilty of slapping his ex wife they said “well Justice punished him we’re not going to do more” Guess what? He is white.
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melusine0811 · 4 months
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Angry teacher rant ahead. And this is a doozy.
I woke this morning to an email to find that one of my most sensitive kids, who trusted me, had been suspended, along with her friend, for something that should not have ended in a suspension. In my class, both are stellar students, they chat a lot, but they are ELEVEN. One has a severe mental illness for which the behavior they displayed is a manifestation (severe panic disorder). And no one but someone who deals with any sort of mental illness would be able to pick this out, but of course I cannot out myself. And their parents can't pick it out either because they only took the kid to the psychiatrist ONCE to get a diagnosis and that was it.
I am so tired of watching adults AND kids I care about get hurt by people who don't have any fucking perception or any room for it- even those on an antidepressant (aka my brother)---they are almost worse because they're boxed in thinking "well if I can handle it, so and so shouldn't act like that." Adults are no better than my 11 year old students. And for my kids it's even harder to watch when it comes from people they trust. Sometimes it’s the 11 year olds that are most ready for empathy, as sad as it is. They forgive easily and love the most readily after it's all said and done. But they're the ones that get trampled on fastest all over again.
Hear me out:
All people, in all positions, especially teachers and those working closely with the wellbeing of other human beings (medical, social work, psychology, childcare, etc), should have to go through rigorous and comprehensive sensitivity training for mental illnesses just like they do for CPR, sexual harassment training, and diversity training. In fact, mental illness should be a MUCH LARGER part of diversity training. Anyone working in a clinical or medical field should have to spend a week (5 days) visiting each day the same psychiatric hospital, and actually TALK to the human beings in there. But of course the stigma still dictates that it's not important enough, and that we're invisible.
CHRONIC MENTAL ILLNESS IS A LEGITIMATE DISABILITY- I.E. severe depression, anxiety, OCD, ADHD, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, and many less common disorders. These disorders produce a massive array of behavioral consequences that constantly overlap. And demanding the same things from these students is just like demanding the same behavior of ALL students, no matter whether they have an IEP or 504.
***Every teacher and student in my school knows how to fight off a fucking gunman but not how to sensitively handle a twelve year old having a panic attack. In fact, other kids and even teachers would just laugh and blame the kid for not trying hard enough. ***
Every. Single. Action someone does, regardless of age, that you perceive as poor behavior, annoying, borderline irritating, negative, defiant, backtalking, rude, or even mean, or lashing out---and most especially if it's out of character for them---? It comes from a place of deep pain. It comes from a place of TRAUMA. Always. It's an even surer sign based on how they act afterwards. Do they not care? Do they go right on to the next dumbass thing? Or do they feel horrible about it, perhaps as if---hmmm--- they've been rejected before?
People do things and behave certain ways for a REASON. Throwing them into a suspension or separating them from others just isolates them and makes it worse. For kids and people who don't handle rejection, this causes ACTUAL PHYSICAL PAIN. I'm not saying you should put up with people's poor behavior. I am saying say your piece, tell them it's not okay, and then LET IT FUCKING GO afterwards. Because I guarantee you they will be having nightmares about it long after you will. People, especially kids, only act out around people they TRUST and can be vulnerable with, and the chances of something similar ever happening again are slim to none. If you are a parent, you know this to be true because your child is fine at school and can be a little shit sometimes at home.
Try, as hard as if may be for you, to see past it. Be bigger, you're not the one falling apart in that moment. Intervene. Because if this is something that is not a regular occurrence, that kid is careening towards a mental or behavioral breakdown. It costs you nothing but maybe your "pride" to back down and open yourselves to them. Maybe offer a hug instead sharp words. You would be shocked.
Years ago, I went on maternity leave. I had a 15 year old student named Dustin who I was very fond of. Dustin was autistic, he was gentle, and the other kids tormented him because of the way he talked and the fact that he was always filthy. He was bipolar. His father abused him and neglected him. He would come to my classroom just to sit and talk to me about Pokemon. I had no idea what he was talking about but I listened anyway. The person who replaced me during my maternity leave was, without exaggeration, an absolute bitch. She was a bitch when I was in high school and as far as I know she still is. She unsurprisingly triggered Dustin one day with her absolute insensitivity. A bunch of the other boys ganged up on him and told him they were going to beat him up the next day. The sub did NOTHING. Dustin brought a knife to school the next day to protect himself and he got expelled. There was nothing I could do when I got back. Dustin was killed five years later, hardly anyone ever showed that boy kindness.
Try to remember that the next time you push them aside, dismiss them, ignore their need for your reassurance especially in their time of deepest vulnerability. Because if that’s the case? You are not as special as you think you are— and you are faaar from the first that has dismissed their hurt, and you are only creating a hardened, more traumatized person much more quickly.
Adults especially should know better. Take care of our babies, people better fucking take care of mine. Adults should know better when it comes to each other, as well- fucking take care of each other, and open yourselves in others' time of need. I have seen so, so many forgotten people in the hospital.
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userlaylivia · 8 months
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what I love about how riverdale ended is that depending on what you ship you can come up with your own ending. like for me I ship all sides of the core four but bhva will always be my otp and there were a lot of hints and signs there like the fact both bh were in new york and va were in california and bh were single and unmarried and had similar careers sorry but nobody will ever convince me they didn't get back together down the road!! bhva will always be endgame to me! but I also ship barchie too and I definitely don't blame barchie shippers saying the same thing about barchie like that's the whole point of the ending to interpret what happens with your ship and to make up your own ending!! so hopefully there's more peace in the fandom now and no more harassment in inboxes!! let people ship what they ship in peace, if they want to think their ship was endgame just let them!! stop attacking people for having a different ship or opinion!! I guess I'm lucky because I literally ship all sides of the core four though bhva are my otps but yeah!!
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