#at first Knife pays Fan no mind

[samsno1]

Honesty

Sam Winchester x Reader

lmao, i'm sorry. this is kind of an au where instead of sam getting the trials...you do! haha......might make a second part to this but i'll see how it'll do. also, in this there isn't the stupid "sam doesn't look for dean in purgatory" because the writers were fucked up when they wrote that, respectfully (or not)

Summary: You finally have a chance to close the Gates of Hell, forever, but everything comes with a cost, the question is, are you willing to pay for it?

Warnings: ANGST, love confessions, sad sammy, kisses, reader sees bobby as a father figure, reader is shorter than Sam, NOT PROOF-READ, english is not my first language

WC: 3.7k

You can learn how to change Y/N for your actual name here

enjoy!

As you lie there, soaked in hellhound's blood, panting after a fight against the creature, the glasses you wore to be able to see it dirty and obstructing your view, Sam and Dean stare at you, frozen and horrified.

You knew they would try and talk you out of doing the trials, especially after Dean's words to both you and Sam before he went on to almost get killed by the hellhound. Of course you two had followed him, even if Dean explicitly said not to, and you ended up under the dog, his disgusting breath fanning on your face as he barked above you, trying to rip your neck off. You knifed it and it quite literally exploded over you, bathing you in his gooey substance.

Now, all of you were in a room, Dean pacing back and forth while Sam just stood with his head down. You had your arms crossed, your eyes accompanied Dean's movements. He was restless, probably angry and desperately trying to find a way to counter this.

“We can find another hellhound,” He argues “I kill it then it's all solved”

“Dean, Crowley will be even more on our asses over this, he will not let his dogs out of the leash” You say, calmly, trying to counter Dean's protectiveness in the lightest way possible. “I can do them”

After you said that Dean stopped pacing around and both him and Sam looked up at you, eyebrows furrowed, almost as if you had just admitted to an unforgivable crime. The crime in the case was wanting to protect the brothers from these crazy trials. You knew how death followed them around like a plague and you couldn't handle losing them.

“No, Y/N, you're not doing these trials” Sam speaks up, a tinge of anger in his tone. Anger, worry. He looked at you, his hair casting a shadow over his face because of the poor lightning in the environment. “You could die”

“Well, too bad Sam” You said and the boys shared that look, a silent conversation between both of them, something that pissed you off in these moments because you had the right to know what they were plotting. “Look, I know you two feel like you have some responsibility over me, this…instinct to protect me ever since Bobby…” You trailed off, the memory of the man you considered to be your father still too heavy on you. Sam frowned and Dean changed his position, on edge. You cleared your throat, the sudden lump bothering you. “But I can protect myself, I can fight my own battles and, honestly? If we do close the gates of hell for good, which battles will be there to fight?” You say with a faint smile.

You look between both of them. They seemed deep in thought. Too deep and that worried you. You slowly walked towards Sam and when he took notice he stiffened up, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed harshly, his eyes taking in your rather dirty appearance. But still beautiful, he mentally stated.

Sam always thought you were the most incredible woman he ever met, invincible even, nothing could ever put you down and you could make everything work your way with your amazing mind and skills. And, obviously, your killer looks always managed to stun him every time, everywhere.

He was used to seeing you in any type of clothing, from suits and dresses to sweats and shirts with corny sayings written in the front, which you argued were comfortable. And you always looked absolutely gorgeous wearing anything. Sam used to think he just admired you, the looks from afar were just friendly appreciation, his yearn to be around you was just a protective instinct, the goosebumps on his skin when you’d touch him were just a natural reaction…

Until it wasn’t just. It was. And that was horrifying.

And it got worse when both you and him spent the last year alone looking for Dean and Cas. Spending so much time beside you made Sam realize what he truly felt towards you and he was scared. Scared to say anything and scared to lose you. So, when you killed that hellhound, his heart fell to his stomach because he knew you would want to do the trials. 

And when you stretched your hand to him, looking directly in his eyes, that determined gaze of yours slicing through his soul, he knew you would do anything to go along with this.

“Sam, give me the spell” You said firmly, not a request, a demand. He swallowed again, still speechless, still frozen, his fist tightening around the small paper which contained the words in enochian you were supposed to recite for the trials to start. You emphasize your demand by widening your eyes angrily and doing ‘come here’ motions with your stretched hand. “Sam”

“Y/N-”

“Dean.” You interrupt, anger seeping into your tone, making Dean shut his mouth into a thin line and a huff of air come out of his nose, just like a child would do when it was refused candy before dinner. He thought he’d seen you like this before, determined, practically unstoppable but boy was he wrong. You were more than insistent and that rang an alarm in Dean’s head. You knew that the one responsible for the trials could die and you were willingly going with it.

“Dean, can you give us a moment” Sam speaks up again and you quirk an eyebrow at him, looking between him and his brother. Sam looks at Dean, his pleading eyes and subtle nod giving enough information for Dean to get the message across. If there is one thing that can make you understand is honesty.

Dean slowly walks out of the room, giving you one last look that said clearly that you needed to listen with an open heart and mind to anything Sam would say. When he closed the door behind him, Sam’s eyes were already on you, trained on your features and you shifted your weight on your feet, his stare intimidating.

“So?” You said, trying to keep your ground. Sam sighed and lowered his head, considering all his options in the situation, he could tell you everything and be either rejected or accepted, he could lie to you, give you the wrong spell and work his way out like he always did and still keep you safe. Honesty. The word echoed in his mind like a chant.

He pushed himself off the table he was leaning on, crossing with you and going towards the bed to sit down. Your whole body accompanied his movements, his long strides making the distance between the table and the bed shorter than it actually was.

Once sat he looked at you and then at the spot beside him on the bed, silently asking you to sit with him and you caved, obliging to him. Your feet were light on the floor, quiet, accustomed to being silent while being a hunter, as you walked to the bed. The hardness of the cushion was not too much of a bother but still kept you grounded. Don’t let your guard down.

After making yourself as comfortable as possible, sitting criss-crossed, you turned towards Sam who was with both his feet on the floor, staring at his hands drying his sweat on his jeans. You waited for him to travel inside his own mind, finding the words, the phrases, the honesty. 

Honesty. Honesty. Honesty.

You swam in your own thoughts, especially those in which Sam was included. And those were the few thousands of reasons you wanted to be the one doing the trials, not him, not Dean. In your time alone, Sam had opened up to you about his want to live a normal life, away from apocalypses, monsters, gods…White picket fence, the whole nine. Dean had wanted that too, hell maybe he wouldn’t let go completely of the hunting but at least he wouldn’t have to deal with demons on his ass, never ever again. You didn’t see yourself getting out.

You grew up in this, much like the boys, but to you was different. You liked it. The adrenaline was like a drug pumping through your veins everytime you killed an abomination and, honestly, family wasn’t your strongest trait. All those whom you considered family were cremated – just because…we don’t usually bury hunters, so you can’t say they are six-feet under. Your love life was most definitely inexistent, you didn’t have time for falling in love with anyone.

Until. You did.

Until you fell. And hard. Face first in a bag of nails because you knew it would be trouble falling in love with Sam Winchester. You were both unlucky when it came to that feeling, always losing, always sacrificing, always in a battle. But how could you not? He was a gentleman in full, kind, sweet, caring and at the same time deadly – no pun intended. He would protect those he cared for with his life, his sense of protection his greatest quality. He was so selfless sometimes it made you mad. You had told him once ‘Be selfish, just this one time!’ and even so he couldn’t. It wasn’t his nature.

Sam wanted out of this and you wouldn’t let him abandon that dream because of you. You weren’t worth his life, you told him once after following a lead on how to open the doors to Purgatory and pull Cas and Dean out that almost got both of you killed. You were crying as you drove him to the hospital, the blood on your hands staining the steering wheel.

He was pale, his hand weekly pressing over the wound on his stomach, his breathing shallow. When you told him that, he trained his tired eyes on your face and in a rough and tired voice told you to shut up. Shut it, jerk. And fainted.

At the hospital you stayed hours by his bed every day. The doctors had told you he would be okay, that thankfully no vital organs were damaged and when he woke up you hugged him tightly, your arms wrapping around his neck desperately trying to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere. His hands soothed you, rubbing your back up and down. You won’t get rid of me that easily, he had said and you laughed.

Ever since then you swore to yourself that you would guarantee that Sam wouldn’t put himself in danger for you anymore and you were not breaking that promise.

“Do you remember the night we met?” Sam spoke and you turned your eyes to his face, his hair shining against the yellow light and worry lines between his eyebrows.

“John had left you at Bobby’s and when I came back from school you scared the shit out of me. I had my gun in hand and everything until Bobby popped up, desperately trying to explain” You said, smiling at the memory. You were all so young back then, Sam was still shorter than you – which didn’t last long – and you had lost your parents a few months back.

“Ever since that night I knew you would be…something in the long run” You gave him a puzzled look and he laughed lightly at your face, his dimples appearing on his cheeks. “I knew you would turn out to be strong, brave and I knew you would end up being one of the most important people to me”

You smiled stupidly at that, your face heating up. You didn’t know what to say to him, your eyes drifting to your fingers over your lap because you couldn't keep his strong gaze. Sam sighed and considered his options, he could either hide his feelings for longer or be honest. Honesty, honesty. The word echoed through his mind like a mantra.

Sam reached his hand to wrap over one of yours, making your eyes shift from your hands to his face again. Physical touch wasn't uncommon between the both of you. Sleeping in the same bed when motels were full, sleeping on each other's shoulders, – more you than Sam given the height difference – hugs, cheek kisses, cuddling while watching movies. But something about this hand hold felt more intimate, like a wave of emotions were being poured over you like cold water. Sam squeezed your hand.

“I can't lose you” Sam said, his voice low because he knew that if he spoke any louder he could break.

“Sam–”

“Y/N. Please.” He begs, even if he doesn't know what he's begging for. Please, let me talk. Please, don't do the trials. Please, love me like I love you. “I can't lose you”

He repeats and you feel like you just got punched in the guts or like a knife went through your chest. He sounded so raw. Those four words meaning more than any poetry you've ever laid eyes upon. You squeeze his hand to ground yourself.

“Can't or won't?” You ask, voice weak.

“Both” He answers. “Both because I won't let you do this and can't because if I lose you I won't know how to keep going.”

You shake your head no, closing your eyes for a brief moment, your memories together flooding in again. His smile tattooed in your brain, his laugh playing over and over like a broken vinyl. You needed to do this.

“If I do this then that means you can finally have a life, a wife, kids…I can't let you lose this.” You say, tears welling up in your eyes. “And I need to do this for you, for Dean, for Charlie…Losing me is just a consequence for the greater good”

Now it's Sam who shakes his head, low breathy no's coming out of his mouth. He looks up at you, eyes watery and those stupid puppy dog eyes staring right into your soul, crushing your heart to pieces.

“You don't get it” He says “When I look into the future I can't imagine–” He takes a breath, considering whether to tell you or not. Fuck it. “I can't imagine it without you. The house, the kids running around, the dog…they're ours.” He stops for a moment, waiting to see if you caught what he meant but you just looked at him, wide beautiful eyes full of confusion.

“Sam what are you–”

“And you're the wife. My wife.” He says and he can see the realization come into your face, slowly. The way your jaw drops slightly, your shoulders tense and your hand squeezes his even harder. Sam swallows but now he can't back away. “So I can't let you do this because if you do it and die I won't be able to keep going because I love you, Y/N. I love you and even if you don't reciprocate I won't stop loving you. You're the first thing I think when I wake up and the last thing I think about once I fall asleep.” He keeps going, almost out of breath once he finishes, avoiding your eyes, avoiding rejection. “So, please, don't”

Don't do this, don't reject me, don't run.

“Sam, look at me” You say, one hand slowly grasping his cheek, your thumb drying a tear that he didn't know had fallen. Once he looked at you he saw you smiling. Smiling with teary eyes. “I love you, too”

You practically whispered and a feeling rushed into Sam's body. Like someone had shot him up with adrenaline and suddenly he was aware of everything around him, your warm hand on his cheek, your hand under his, the white noise of the animals outside. And his own heartbeat.

He closed the distance between the both of you, his lips finally touching yours in desperation. Pure and raw desperation. His hand went up your arm to your neck, gently pulling you more into him and yours slipped to tangle into his hair, running the soft locks through your fingers.

The kiss felt electric and it burned. Burned you from the inside out with the wave of a thousand emotions. Your head went back to those moments with Sam. Your mind was just completely him.

And it was the same for the Winchester.

He already had thoughts consisting mostly of you but now he felt in heaven, like in finally connected with whom he mostly desired, both physically and emotionally. His other hand slipped around your waist to pull yourself over him as he laid down on the bed.

You followed and slightly smiled into the kiss. Until you grounded yourself. Sam wouldn't let you do the trials, not now that you had confessed, not now that he knew you loved him too. So you had to take matters into your own hands.

As Sam laid you over him, you straddled his hips, the kiss continuing into an unexplained hunger and lust for each other. You sensually dragged your hand down his chest, earning a soft gasp out of him, both his hands tangling in your hair, messing up your curls.

Your hand that slid down his body discreetly went into his pocket, feeling for the paper with the spell written on it. You mentally apologized over and over to Sam, your mouth opening to let his tongue in to explore it, butterflies flying around in your stomach. He was gentle, caring but yet hungry and you could feel it.

I'm sorry. 

You pulled away breathless, the paper clutched in your hand and Sam looked at you through hooded eyes, his chest heaving with his heavy breaths and a confused frown on his face.

“I'm sorry Sammy” You said as you got off the bed and started to quickly pronounce the words in enochian, your hands trembling around the paper. Sam widened his eyes once he realized what you'd done, patting his pocket in reflex, knowing you had taken it out of there, and stubbled off the bed.

“Y/N, no, please!” He yelled but it was too late. Once you said the last word an almost unbearable pain cursed through your whole body, knocking you to your knees, a loud groan of pain leaving your throat.

Sam kneeled beside you with a hand on your back, mumbling curses and apologies to you but you couldn't hear him, the pain so strong it made your ears ring. You felt a burn, like you had injected lava into your veins, opening your eyes to see your arms shining. Everything was spinning and the only thing guaranteeing you that you were still alive was Sam's warm touch over your back.

After seconds of excruciating pain you felt it going down and saw your arms returning to their normal tone. You collapsed into Sam's arms and he made sure to hold you tightly, still mumbling apologies with his eyes glossy with tears.

“Why did you do this?” He repeated, over and over. He didn't know if he wanted to kill you or hug you so he decided for the latter. He hugged your frame, pressing your head against his chest with a trembling hand and giving light kisses over it.

His other hand pressed your back against him, making your whole body stay in contact with his. His knees hurt on the hard ground but nothing compared to the pain he felt in his heart. He felt helpless.

You opened your eyes to look up at him, a faint smile on your face. You lifted a hand up to his cheek and took a very good look at the handsome man you loved. He was crying but he always looked beautiful, no matter how.

At your touch he closed his eyes, guilt spreading through his body. He touched his forehead to yours, making you close your eyes until you spoke up.

“I did this because I love you” You said and he opened his mouth to protest. You gave him a look, saying you weren’t done. “I love you too much to see you die and I know you can keep going if I die, you are one of the strongest men I know. You’re smart, you’re brave and you went through so much that I can’t let you give it up because of me. And you know I would never, ever, let you take responsibility over this and I don’t want you to blame yourself, this was my choice”

“I can’t– I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m so sorry I got you into this, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you–” You stopped him with a kiss and he sighed sadly, his hands wrapping around you tighter as if you would disappear at any second. You felt horrible but at the same time relieved. Relieved that if anything happened, Sam would live.

“Don’t say that” You whisper against his lips. “Don’t apologize for something that isn’t your fault. This is on me.” You say as you pull slowly away to look into his eyes, the mix of colors hypnotizing you. You felt like you could see every ounce of his soul through those eyes and it was filled with sadness.

Sam was angry, not at you, at himself. The moment he saw the hellhound die above you, bathing you in its blood he knew it was over, that you wouldn’t back away but still he blamed himself. If I were quicker. If I were smarter. The words ran around in his brain. When he looked at you he saw yet another one of those he loved dead. Another corpse that hung over his shoulder.

“We can do this, I can do this. I’m strong enough” You said. Sam knew you were strong but this was beyond you. This was God and Demons and Heaven and Hell. This was biblical and nothing like the things you faced before. He was scared.

“I know you are but what if I’m not?” He asks and you wait for him to continue. “What if I’m not strong enough to let you go if it comes to it?”

“You’ll have to be. If not for yourself, for me. Keep going for me” You reply with a soft look and a slight smile that made Sam choke on a sob and smash his lips against yours.

This kiss was filled with different emotions. Sadness, grief and guilt were poured into it but yet so much love. So, so much.

You didn’t get a verbal answer from Sam but you got plenty of information from the kiss. I’ll try, for you.

And that was enough.

A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading, Xoxo.

#supernatural #writers on tumblr #sam winchester #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural imagine #supernatural angst #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester x female reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester angst #jared padalecki x reader #jared padalecki

[whoreforhorror]

S/o with Tattoos

Included: Michael Myers, Bo Sinclair, (Poly) Billy Loomis and Stu Macher, Bubba Sawyer, Jason Voorhees, Brahms Heelshire, Hannibal Lecter, Rusty Nail

Michael Myers:

He wouldn’t notice before you two were together. Well, more like he would notice but wouldn’t care or pay any mind to them. 

When you’re together, he’d start taking note of them. He’d watch you from afar and admire the way the images moved on your skin

If he’s out killing and he finds something that you have tattooed, he’d take it and gift it to you when he returned.

Would absolutely go feral if you got a tattoo for him, regardless of where it was. Somewhere everyone can see? Everyone will know you’re his. Somewhere intimate? It’s just for him and will definitely get a lot of attention while you two are… enjoying the night together

Honestly, getting a tattoo for him might save you from him craving his initials into you with his definitely unsanitary knife. He’s possessive and you both know it, but it probably isn’t high up on your list to get some blood disease.

Bo Sinclair: 

It was one of the first things he noticed about you.

After a hard day's work, when you both are relaxing on the couch or in bed and he’s softened up a bit, he’ll trace your tattoos quietly. If there’s a story behind any of them, he’d absolutely melt if you told him the story while he traced.

If you got a tattoo for him, it’d instantly be his favorite. He’s always scared, in the back of his mind, that one day you’ll come to your senses and leave him. Getting a tattoo of him would help ease these thoughts, by a lot. 

He’d love it if the tattoo was somewhere where the tourists could see, so they know you're his. Still, he definitely wouldn’t mind if it was hidden and just for his eyes. Either way, the tattoo would definitely inflate his ego.

If you agreed, he might have Vincent draw up a tattoo idea that Bo has. Get it inked and you’ll win his heart. Bo’s a family man, and getting Vincent’s art tattooed would let him know that you love not just him but his family as well. It would let him know that you accept him and everything that comes with him.

Poly Billy Loomis and Stu Macher:

Oh boy, these two think you are one of the coolest people they’ve ever met. Your tattoos are how you caught their attention

Billy would subtly suggest that you get tattoos for them. Nothing would turn him on more. Billy has major abandonment issues, thanks to his mother, and (like Bo) getting a tattoo for him would help reassure him that you weren’t going to leave him

Stu wouldn’t be as subtle. He never is. He’d definitely turn to you during a movie marathon and say “Hey babe, you should get a tattoo for us. That’d be hot as hell!” Que Billy glaring at Stu from the other side of the couch

If you tattoo yourself, the boys will DEFINITELY want to do one. Give them something easy, for your sake, but nothing would make them happier. They might get a little bit hooked though, so you might have to give them a limit to how many they can do. 

They’ll 100% want to get matching tattoos with you.

Get a tattoo of Ghostface and they’ll never leave you. It’s a sign that you not only love them, but you accept Ghostface as well.

Bubba Sawyer

He definitely isn’t a fan, to start. His family has convinced him that the only people that get tattoos are rowdy heathens that are bound to become dinner. He loves you too much to eat you!

Drayton would definitely say shit. Whether he’d making fun or judging, he’s bound to say something. Bubba will glare at him to shut him up, and take you to another room if it gets to be too much. 

He’d love to hear the story behind the tattoos, if you had any

If you get a tattoo for him, he’s going to be concerned! Why would you hurt yourself for him?! He’s concerned and flustered but he’s also really happy. You really love him that much? 

Prepare for a back-cracking, teddy bear hug!

He’ll definitely look at it from time to time, when he thinks you aren’t looking.

But please don’t get any more! He doesn’t want you to hurt yourself, in any form.

Jason Voorhees 

He’s not sure how to feel

Bad people at the camp have tattoos. But you’re not a bad person! You’re his s/o!

He’ll have to sit and think through this for a while, but he still loves you. Of course he does!

Eventually, he’ll come to love them. They’re a part of you, after all. 

He especially likes any tattoos you have of nature or animals.

If you get a tattoo for him, he’ll be more conflicted than ever. He really loves you and loves that you’d get something so permanent for him, but (again) tattoos are for bad people

He’s fond of the tattoos you have, but don’t get any more

Brahms Heelshire 

Like Bubba and Jason, Brahms isn’t sure how he feels about your tattoos. His parents always talked down about people with tattoos, even you when you were hired. The only reason you got the job, his parents said, was because you were well qualified and followed instructions

Brahms will draw the tattoo he can see from the walls, and hang them up in his den in the walls

Eventually, when you two are officially together, he’ll move you around a little bit while you both cuddle to see your tattoos better. Don’t be surprised if he grabs your arm or turns your head while you’re doing something, so he can look at one of them.

He’ll point to one or rub his thumb over one in particular if he wants to know more about it 

If you got a tattoo for him, he’d be all over you. You wouldn’t be able to get him off of you for a week at least. Whether it’s cuddling, him clinging to you while you work, or less innocent things, prepare to have your hands full for a while. Even long after you’ve gotten the tattoo, he’ll hold you closer if he catches sight of it. Best to get it in an area that isn’t very visible in day-to-day outfits.

Hannibal Lecter 

Hannibal is tricker than some others with tattoos, and it really depends on what and how many

If you had tattoos of classical art or literature, I think he’d be completely enamored. He’d quote the artist or author and fully expects you to recognize the quote. If you have a piece tattooed that he doesn’t have, art or literature alike, he will get it to please you. If you have it tattooed, you must really like it, right?

If you have silly tattoos or some that could be described as “junkie”, he might encourage you to cover them up while you’re attending gatherings with him. He’s not ashamed, never. He just thinks they’re improper and unfit for the setting. There’s nothing wrong with being a little improper from day to day.

He most certainly will try to psychoanalyze you based on your tattoos. 

If you get a tattoo for him, that spot would be his favorite to hold you by. He’ll always have a hand on that spot, especially in public if it’s not too inappropriate. If it’s his favorite story, artwork, or music piece, he’ll tell you random quotes or information about it. Soon enough, you’ll know everything there is to know on the subject

Rusty Nail

I think Rusty would be pretty indifferent to any tattoos you had, honestly.

They’re hot, you’re hot, that’s all he really thinks on the matter.

HOWEVER

IF YOU GET A TATTOO FOR THIS MAN

Over the moon, elated, horny, very horny.

Rusty is incredibly territorial already, and a tattoo? Just for him? You two really are the perfect match. He’ll look at it every chance he gets, hold you wherever the tattoo is, and he’ll most certainly give it some extra attention while you two are going at it.

He will definitely think about branding you with the nail on his keychain that he bent into an ‘R’ shape. If you let him, you’re never getting away from him. As far as Rusty is concerned, that’s the same thing as a wedding band and exchanging ‘I Do’s. You are his, permanently. But that also means that he is yours.

#bo sinclair #slasher x reader #rusty nail x reader #slashers imagine #michael myers #slasher fucker #ghostface #michael myers x reader #bo sinclair x reader #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #billy Loomis x reader x stu macher #ghostface x reader #bubba saywer x reader #jason vorhees x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #joyride #the boy 2016 #friday the 13th #texas chainsaw massacre #scream #halloween

[hyperfixatedfandomer]

12am incoherent Spider rant incoming:

The fact that a huge portion of Spider fans sympathise with him because they had similar family experiences in life is low-key making me feel kinda weird about people who hate him. Like let us recap the events real quick-

Like why do you hate a kid who did more to keep the Na’vi safe than Jake through the entire movie? “They’re after us” ok? This is not just about you dumbass it’s a whole-ass war, the RDA will still want to find the rest of your tribe because they want to ERADICATE your people 😐 the fact that it took him MONTHS to realise that running will not save anyone is 😬 (though I can get behind it bc family and all)

How is it that a goddamn 16 year old was the one who carried the good guy team??? 😐😐😐 he saved tribes from getting murdered, like literally, Tonowari said that no one had died, WONDER WHY???? DO Y’ALL THINK QUARITCH WAS NICE OUTTA NOWHERE???

And then he sunk a ship. HE SUNK A SHIP BY HIMSELF????

AND THEN HE INDIRECTLY SAVED KIRIS AND JAKE’S LIFE????

“He backstabbed them” I know you’re not blaming him for it when Neytiri exists 🧍 bestie outright REFUSED to help a literal child and didn’t bat an eye when he got captured. I can get behind her putting a knife to his throat in a rush of emotion but to very clearly ABANDON him? Fuck off. If her active decision to leave him behind didn’t turn into the reef Na’vi’s literal saving grace I’d be hating on her so actively.

“He saved his homocidal dad after he promised to murder his family” first of all the Sullys NEVER adopted him and it’s made abundantly clear. You sound like a gaslighter when you use that rhetoric. 😐📸

And secondly — HELL YEAH HE DID???? I would too if I was him and so would you and so would we all because Miles is the first grown up who GAVE A SHIT. MILES GENUINELY CARED. “It’s morally wrong” NO CAP 😀😀😀 NO ONE SAYS IT WAS RIGHT BUT THE KID HAD A SPLIT SECOND TO MAKE A DECISION AND HE CHOSE NOT TO BE A MURDERER.

You know what else is morally wrong tbw? Neglecting a child for 16 years.

“B-but they had no obligation to take care of a human kid—” cry me a fucking river 😐 what they want or not doesn’t fucking matter when we are talking about the mental health of an actual living breathing being. They ALL (the scientists, the Sullys and even the mf McKoskers or whatever the hell their last name is) were morally obligated to give that kid the best they could to ensure that he wouldn’t turn out like his father BECAUSE THEY’RE ADULTS.

The fact that their collective neglect DIDN’T blow up in their face is a pure miracle. Thant kid had every right to turn evil and burn the village that rejected him to feel it’s warmth but he DID NOT. In fact he is so goddamn kind and compassionate that he sees good even in a piece of shit monster like Quaritch.

It’s mind-blowing when we consider the lack of parental love and guidance throughout his life.

☝️ THIS is the kid you’re hating on???? Bc it’s starting to look suspiciously toxic 👀💅

Pay my boy some respect. He was a literal hero and y’all act like the Omatekaya, ignoring whatever good he might do and then point fingers at him when he does something morally questionable LIKE ITS NOT JAKES FAULT??? LIKE THE REST OF THE ADULTS ARE NOT AT FAULT TOO??

Neglect makes people vulnerable. Vulnerable enough for an asshole to swoop in and manipulate them and it is only thanks to Spider’s unyielding loyalty and heart that neither Ardmore, nor Miles had pulled anything out of him in MONTHS of captivity. They had NO idea where Jake or Omatekaya were until Norm fucked it all up with his trackable ship.

Listen I love all the blorbos, but the parents dug their own grave so to speak. You fumble the bag repeatedly and then get surprised when it flies into your face? 🤨

Anyway, I’m out. Might delete this later idk.

#avatar spider #avatar 2 #spider socorro #avatar #avatar way of water #avatar headcanons #miles quaritch #avatar quaritch #miles spider soccoro #recom quaritch #spider avatar #miles socorro #avatar miles quaritch #na’vi quaritch #spider soccoro #avatar neteyam #miles soccoro #miles spider socorro #avatar lo’ak #avatar the way of water #avatar jake #avatar neytiri #neteyam avatar #lo’ak avatar

[arzuera]

Damian walked into the dining room where a few of his siblings and his father had already gathered for breakfast. In a slightly robotic movement, he headed over to his designated spot at the table and sat down. Bruce took a sip of his coffee while Dick yawned in his normal over exaggerated way. It was kind of surprising that he wasn’t face first in his cereal yet. Duke sat next to him, not fully awake himself though he was at least able to get a forkful of eggs to his mouth. Small victories. Damian sat in his chair, and Alfred brought him his breakfast of pancakes made of oat flour and almond milk. Setting a small dish of bananas and peanut butter next to it, along with a small syrup dispenser.

“Good morning, Damian,” Bruce said as he took a bite of his own breakfast.

“Morning, Father. Pennyworth.” The boy replied, and he also received a wave in greeting from Duke and a cut-off greeting from Dick as he yawned again.

“Good morning, Master Damian. I do hope you enjoy your breakfast. I made sure to make them with your favorite almond milk.” Alfred said kindly before heading back into the kitchen to finish preparing food for those who weren’t up yet.

Damian idly played with his food for a few minutes. Using a knife to put peanut butter on the pancakes or taking a bite of banana. Nervousness bubbled under the surface of his stoic demeanor. He could do this. It wouldn’t go wrong. He looked up to his two adopted brothers and his father, who wasn’t really paying him any mind. “I am… courting someone,” Damian said, watching as Dick and Duke’s heads whipped up, and Bruce looked at him with a soft smile on his face.

“Congratulations. That’s wonderful, Damian.” His father said with a warmth that didn’t always manage to reach his voice but this time it had. Duke let out a cheer and Dick was wiping a fake tear from his eye.

Seeing the positive response from his family, Damian continued. “I don’t know if we’re compatible yet. I just like him a lot and, physically, he’s very nice to touch.” Duke snorted a bit and Dick managed to keep a smile on his face without laughing as Damian kept talking. “I bought him a keychain. And a bracelet. Also, I’m going to drag him to a fair with local small business owners. The small one that is being held right outside of town.”

“As long as you are safe, having fun, and enjoying being with him, then you have my approval,” Bruce stated taking another sip of his coffee. Giving his son a proud look. “Small fairs are the best.”

Damian’s lips quirked up a small it in a rare smile. “He’s so cute. And works with small animals so we can bond about that too.”

Dick leaned forward onto the table with his elbows. “I’m glad you are having fun.”

“A fair!” Duke exclaimed with a big smile on his face. “With local small business owners. That’s the peak of romance oh my lord…” he fell back in his chair, fanning his face playfully, and Dick lightly knocked the younger boy’s shoulder.

“It’s so cute and romantic.” Dick agreed with Duke, taking a bite of his cereal and not missing this time since he was now fully awake.

Damian felt himself buzzing in excitement. His family doesn’t even know the boy’s name and they already approved. He looked up at them fully, his breakfast completely forgotten. “He promised to show me a woman who makes tea blends based on superheroes.” Damian’s normally monotone voice had an excited lilt to it that brought everyone in the current room into soft smiles.

“My best wishes on this romantic endeavor, baby bat,” Duke said with a twirl of his fork in the air.

“We both have a slight obsession with tea.” Damian continued on almost bouncing in his seat from all of the positive energy he was feeling.

“Oh my god.” Dick said at the same time that Duke replied “Oh my lord…”

“Keep him!” Dick exclaimed, standing up abruptly while brandishing his spoon at his little brother. “Even if only as a friend.”

Damian hummed in thought for a moment. “It’s more of a platonic one. I am aromantic after all.”

“Courting endeavor then,” Dick replied with a shrug not worried about the semantics and just happy his brother was happy. A smirk formed on his face as he said, “Damian, the aromantic, going on the most romantic date ever.”

Now that Damian thought about it, it really was kind of romantic, wasn’t it? “Should I tell him it’s a date? Should I?” he asked looking to his brothers and father for guidance before looking down at his pancakes. “Maybe not… I’m still feeling our relationship out…”

“DOES HE NOT KNOW IT’S A DATE? HE’S TAKING YOU TO SEE THE SUPERHERO TEA LADY?!” Dick exclaimed in slight disbelief and Bruce chuckled behind his mug. He leaned toward his little brother as close as the table would allow him to do. “Damian, is it a date? Because it sounds like a date.”

“Listen, the first time we went out, Danny bought me an iced tea on his insistence.” Damian rolled his eyes as he replied to his enthusiastic older brother. “Then brought me into a secret basement vinyl shop and let me place my chin on his shoulder. As in, I was fully pressed up against his back and watched him browse said vinyl.”

Dick stared at his little brother. “I think you have a boyfriend, baby bat.”

“Tt.” Damian tsked a bit and looked away from Dick. “I do not. I have only seen him once face to face. He has stated that he has never had a relationship, and I do not wish to make him uncomfortable by springing this upon him.”

“Do you talk on the phone or online? Because that definitely counts.” Dick asked, putting his head in his hands as he continued to look starry-eyed at his little brother.

“Yes but only after we met in person.”

“How did you two meet?” Bruce asked, taking the opportunity to chime in and learn more about the boy that Damian was interested in.

Damian pulled out his phone and scrolled until he found out what he was looking for. “There is a chat for trans people in Gotham, and occasionally, I will join in asking if anyone wishes to do activities together. Several people will then reply at once. That is how we met.”

Dick moved to sit properly in his chair after getting a stern look from Alfred. His pout turned into a thoughtful look as he rolled over Damian’s words in his head. “And on your first meeting, he bought you tea, and y’all cuddled up in a basement vinyl shop while looking at records together?”

“Mmm yes.” Damian nodded his head as he recounted the encounter in his head. “And he walked me to my designated safe drop-off and hugged me goodbye. He also hugged me hello, as well.”

“Was anyone else there?”

“For a brief period of time, yes. Others popped in after tea and hung around for about 40 minutes and then went their own way.”

Dick was vibrating in his seat, and it was obvious he was trying to contain it. “I’m trying not to get too excited about all the hugging because hugs entirely depend on the culture people grew up with, and one might see it one way but not another.”

“I am trying to be better with physical affection, but a lot of people aren’t so comfortable with me on the first try.” Damian had come a long way from the angry assassin child his mother had dropped off. “He was, though. That’s why I’m happy too.”

Duke chuckled. “Okay. Do you like him?”

“I do enjoy his company so yes. I do like him.”

Bruce cleared his throat when he saw the slight moment where there was hesitation on Damian’s face. Getting his children’s attention effortlessly. He turned his full attention to Damian as he set his mug down. “You don’t have to date Danny or label anything if you don’t want to. Just hang out and have a good time.”

Damian nodded his head briskly and quickly looked back to his breakfast with a secretive smile. “Yes. Thank you, Father. I will.”

----

The dialog was done by 4 peeps in the batpham server with the one as damian being gay motherfucker.

These peeps are cute ya'll

#dpxdc #dcxdp #damian wayne #dick grayson #trans damian #trans danny #trans for all!! #bruce wayne #duke thomas

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Mmmmmm new genre, free-to-torture hero!!! have funnnn cute butt~

These were probably the first ten minutes in the last twenty-four hours which were bearable. Assessing the situation was difficult, given the lack of information the hero had.

A lot of broken ribs and neither their femur nor their back were doing so well either. In truth, the hero was quite sure they wouldn’t survive this. The first hours or so had been alright: even though they didn’t have any weapons, they were doing pretty well, fighting against whoever came through that door, but with time, they’d grown weaker and with that, were subdued by the torture and violence.

“I came as soon as I heard. An opportunity like this attracts many flies.” The hero looked up at their nemesis who seemed uncharacteristically unfocused. They avoided the hero’s eyes, walking up and down the small room the supervillain had set up. “You got a lot of fans waiting for you outside.”

The hero didn’t answer. They were exhausted, ready for the villain’s fist or a knife. With the only rule being “don’t kill the hero,” they were ready for a lot worse. A few broken bones were merciful.

But the villain didn’t lash out. Instead they walked over to the hero and crouched down.

“How many people were in here?” The hero shrugged and it was the truth: they didn’t know. Time was weird here. It was weird when they were outside of their normal routines. “Alright…”

The villain sighed and to the hero’s huge surprise they opened a water bottle.

“It’s cold, so be careful,” they warned and buried their hand in the hero’s hair at the back of their head. They pulled a little, forcing the hero to lean back and drink when they connected the bottle with their lips.

And the hero did drink, greedily.

“Easy,” the villain said, decreasing the tilt of the bottle. “Take it easy.”

The hero grabbed the villain’s wrists weakly when they pulled away.

“It’s alright,” the villain mumbled. “It’s yours, okay?”

The hero didn’t let go of them, they couldn’t. They weren’t ready for more pain, for more broken bones.

Hell, they’d been in their apartment, all vulnerable when the supervillain had kidnapped them. They weren’t even sure if they could find peace again if they went home. Being torn out of their bed, drugged, beaten…they hadn’t had time to think about it but for some reason, all of it came crashing down on them.

With the little strength they had left, they pulled the villain towards them and the villain made a sound close to a yelp. They nearly fell onto the hero. However, they managed to put their hand on the wall behind their enemy and steady themselves.

Rather desperately, the hero realised that all the stability they had left came from their nemesis. An enemy they knew better than anyone, an enemy who knew them better than anyone. They cupped their face, thumbs on the villain’s cheeks and their other fingers around their jawline.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” the hero whispered. They were nose to nose and the distance between them was less than little. Lips nearly touching. They were breathing the same air, each other’s air, looking at each other, holding each other…

“I…” the villain began but didn’t manage to finish. They couldn’t seem to concentrate today. Their eyes dropped to the hero’s lips but jumped back up in the split of a second.

“Do they pay to be in here?” the hero asked. It was a question that had just crossed their mind. If there was one thing more humiliating than being locked up and tortured, it was someone else making money with it.

“…at first, no. The supervillain changed their mind, though. 10,000 for ten minutes. 75,000 for an hour,” they said. They started to move softly, letting their fingertips go over the hero’s torso. Whenever they touched a broken rib, the hero hissed, tears forming in their eyes and it was with great despair that they caught themselves wanting to beg.

They hadn’t begged. Hadn’t sobbed when the others didn’t pull their punches. But right now, with the villain touching them, the hero wanted to beg and cry. They wanted to completely shatter in the villain’s arms.

“I wanted to pay more but they only let me do an hour,” the villain said gently. “I don’t think I can do much in that time, but…”

They’d brought painkillers, bandages, food…the hero wanted to cry their eyes out and come with them but they also knew that both of them would be killed as soon as they came out of that door.

“I’ll find a way to get you out of here. One of my henchmen is coming by later today as well. He’ll bring you something warm to eat.” They started working on the hero’s torso, bandaging wounds and stitching the nasty ones. The whole time, the hero needed to touch them, needed to feel their skin on theirs.

More than once, the villain reminded them that they needed both hands to stitch the wound.

“You’ll be out by tomorrow, I promise. I know it’s too much to ask for but…I need you to hold on a little more.”

The hero nodded weakly but their tears wouldn’t stop when the hour was over.

pt. 2

#for my dear friend Epiclamer ;) #you can bet all of ur money that this villain destroyed their whole office out of frustration #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request #h/c

[theabigailthorn]

As an American, I am not as familiar with Britains political system as I should be given that I was a poly-sci major at university... That said, and I have been thinking this for a while now, if there is such a way for you to run for an office or for Prime Minister, you really ought to. I think you have the right drive, and determination to turn the system inside out if you really wanted to... I understand that as a creator, that may not be something you are into, or feel is worth the time, and being trans I understand we are at disadvantage for most popularity contests... (For reasons I dislike discussing, but also feel might be general knowledge at this point... And I don't mean appearance, but rather the gossip/whisper-whisper...) But even putting that thought into peoples minds, win or lose, it makes for the foundation of giant leaps forwards. It forces people to recognize that we exist, and deserve to be treated as human... Whilst unfortunately offering yourself for broad public criticism, of which I would never want for you, as I admire you and your work and what you mean to our community... That said, if any of us could do it, I think it might just could be you...

Just food for though, from an American fan. Love your work, and wishing all the best luck...

(Ps: Sorry for the annoyingly long message.)

In order to become an MP you first need to be selected by the party; there are no primaries in Britain. There are no political parties in Britain who could currently win under our FTTP system who would allow a trans woman to stand

Once you're selected, you need about £80,000 to pay for your campaign, which I do not have

Then you have to actually win the campaign and become an MP

Then you have to wait until a party leadership contest is called and secure enough votes from your party's MPs to be nominated; there are no current parliamentary parties who would allow a trans woman, never mind one with my politics, within a million miles of the leadership contest, cause the last time they allowed a joke candidate to run he became the most popular leader of the labour party ever, twice

then once you become leader of the party you have to survive your own MPs knifing you in the back

then you have to win a general election.

So as much as I'd like to become Prime Minister (and hey why the heck not, I can't be worse than the last few we've had!) I genuinely believe I have better odds of becoming a famous Hollywood actress

[fieldofdaisiies]

Hi! I love ur azriel fics 😭 could u do one where azs stepbrother(s) find his mate or something and try to hurt her and az throws hands. Love ur writing 💕

thank you so much and thank you for the request. I apologise in advance, I am not so good at writing fighting scenes, I hope you still like it <33

Azriel x Reader | Oh Little Brother

type: angst warnings: blood, violence, curse words, protective Azriel word count: 1685

*all rights reserved*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Azriel’s blood ran cold. The bastard sneered, the other one wore a full toothy grin on his face. "We heard our baby brother got himself a mate.” The back of Azriel’s mouth tasted bitter—he had never considered them to be brothers so hearing it from Querem nearly made him gag. He hadn’t seen them in a long time, but apperently they had caught wind of him now having a mate and decided to pay you a little visit. 

Azriel barely managed to look at them, memories of what they had done to him piercing his mind. He had begged and cried for them to let him go, had weeped when the poured oil over his hands and then—

Azriel shoved you further behind his back, wings flaring and shielding you. The two of you had been on a walk through a forest in the Night Court when two shadows had suddenly fallen over you. First you had thought it was just Cass and Rhys, spying on Az and his mate, but the moment the two brutes had slammed down on the ground, you had known that something bad was about to happen.

“Stay behind me. And when I tell you to run, you do,” Azriel breathed. You shook your head although he could not see—you would never leave him alone with those two. Never! He was your mate and the love of your life, you would never leave him behind. 

“We were just wondering if your pretty mate wants to get to know her brothers-in-law. She is a beautiful female, would make a great plaything, don’t you think, Astarn?” Azriel’s second oldest brother drawled. He took a tentative step forward, Azriel moved a hand over Truth Teller.

“Oh little brother, come on, let us play with her. We can be nice. Let us have a taste and then you can have her back.” You shuddered at the perversion, dread colliding with panic inside of you. You were grossed out, but the feeling of angst prevailed. 

“Stay away from her and go back to your war camp. Find someone to fight with there if that is what you want.” Astarn grinned, flared his wings and stepped forward. “It is not at all what we want. We want to share your mate. We want to make sure she is fully satisfied. I am not sure if you can do this? Does is fully please you, sweetness?” 

You swallowed thickly, ignoring the male. 

“Or are you grossed out by his filthy hands. Are you allowed to touch her, Azriel? Do you allow him to touch you with those hands? You must be disgusted.” “The only thing I am disgusted of you two. Stay away from us and leave us alone,” you stated, looking past Azriel’s broad chest, stepping up beside him and meeting his step-brother’s gaze. 

“Oh, the lovely lady has a big mouth. Would love to feel that mouth on me.” Your body started shaking, bitterness and lethality reaching your through the bond. You knew Azriel was on the verge of breaking and going fully berserk on his step-brothers. He would unleash everything that he tried to hold back now and it would end in a blood bath. The consequences would be fatal. His father was an important war lord and it would cause and uproar is Azriel killed his beloved step-sons. The uproar would lead to riots and riots most likely to a war within the Night Court. 

“Fuck off!” Azriel shouted, his fingers curling tighter around his hunting knife. 

“Come on, sweetheart. Ignore the bastard and come have fun with two real males. I bet we have a bigger wingspan than him.”

It was too fast, there was no time for reacting. Querem lunged himself at you the moment Astarn headed for Azriel. Querem gripped you by your arms, forced your body to collid with his. His foul breath fanned your face when he pulled you flush to his chest and flared his wings. Nails digging into your skin, you released a scream and Querem flapped his wings. He took of and you screamed again, pure horror and panic reaching your through the bond. You screamed for Azriel, not knowing what his other step-brother had done or was doing to him. Azriel shouted your name, but he was cut off. You could hear iron colliding with iron, knowing that they were fighting. The brute’s hands were all over you, touching you everywhere while he flapped his wings and tried to reach the tree tops. “We are going to have so much fun, sweetness,” he sneered against the side of your head. Even though you were already quite high, you started to thrash and kick, screamed and shouted at him. He slowly slid a hand up your throat, trying to make you shut up. But you bit his palm with as much force as you could bring up. He released a shout of pain and then slapped your face. “Filthy bitch, you shouldn’t have done that.”

He released his hands from you, just letting you slip. A bold of dread pierced you. You headed to the ground, dread spread through your whole body, you tried to grab branches of trees to make you stop, but it was too late. Your head hit the ground first, then your back and then sweet oblivion settled over you. 

A scream tore itself free from Azriel. He forced Astarn of him. Power rumbled through every fiber of his body, every restraint he had on himself came loose and he unleashed himself fully. 

He could feel his heart thrum against his rib cage, blood pumping in his eyes. Cold rage reached the surface when his hands curled around the shaft of his hunting knife. He now longer stood there as their little step-brother—he faced them as the High Lord’s torture master. He had ended many lives and decided in that moment that two more souls falling at his hands wouldn’t matter. 

“You hurt my mate. I am going to fucking kill you. Both of you. I will rip your throats out," Azriel threatened, siphons glowing bright blue and he lunged forward and pierced his dagger through the right side of Astarn’s chest. It would hurt like hell, but he would not die and that was what Azriel wanted. He wanted for them a slow and painful death, in his torture chambers. Your lifeless body was lying in the branches and leaves on the ground, but you were alive. He could feel you through the bond and it was the only thing that gave him strength. He knew he had to fight his brothers first and only then could return you to safety. But if you had died, he simply would have let them kill him. A life and world without you would be unimaginable. Azriel would no longer want to be if you weren’t in his life. 

“I hope she is not dead,” Querem sneered when he slammed down on the ground behind Azriel. “I must have dropped her. Little whore, deserved it.” Azriel spun around, a fist collided with the side of his rib cage and he was yanked backwards. Azriel kicked out with his right foot, hitting his step-brother’s shin and hearing bones crack. That had landed a blow. When Querem lunged forward Azriel rammed Truth-Teller through his arm and slowly cut through the entire length of his limb. Querem cried out in pain, tears filling with eyes when his knees buckled. 

A feeling of relief settled into Azriel’s gut when he tossed his bother’s body away. The feeling was quickly eroded when he remembered you. He hurdled over to your lifeless body and your eyes slowly blinked open. 

“It hurts, Azriel,” you breathed, your vision blurry and your head aching. There was something damp at the back of your head—blood from where you had hit a stone.

“I know, baby. It will all be fine. I am getting you out of here. You are safe.” Azriel whispered, his hands sliding under your body. He kissed your forehead when he scooped you up. Another shadow fell over him, but this time it did not unsettle him, but rather calmed him. Cassian landed on the ground and took in the Shadowsinger’s bloody figure. 

“I came as quick as possible. Rhys had informed me, he is on his way as well. What did they do?” Cassian breathed and quickly moved over to his brother.

Azriel sucked in a breath and cleared his throat, “They threatened her life. Attacked us and Querem tried to kidnap her. He let her drop,” Azriel informed, cradling you to his chest.

“She hit the ground but—“ The Spymaster’s voice broke and he felt tears burn in his eyes. Cassian clasped his shoulder tightly and let his eyes run over your shaking body. “But she is alive and awake. I will take her to Madja, she definitely has broken bones and hit her head. They two of them,” —Azriel tilted his head to the side— “are also alive. Can you bring them to the Hewn City for me. I want to take special care of them. It is why I left them live.” Reluctantly Cassian bowed his head, but said that he would to Rhysand about it. 

The low groaning and noises of being in pain from his step-brothers mixed with low chuckling from Cassian when Azriel lounged skywards. He was thankful for Cassian having arrived, he was thankful to call Cassian a real brother. 

His heart was still pounding against his ribcage when he reached the sky above the tree tops. He had no idea how badly injured you were, how far you have fallen. But you were awake and alive and that was what mattered the most to him in that moment. You shuddered in Azriel’s hold and drew in a shaky breath. 

“It is fine. You are safe and you will never be in danger again. They are taken care of, my love,” Azriel whispered against the top of your head, his wings flapping harder against the wind. 

~~~~~~~

tags: @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel angst

[twyftwyt]

I would like to contribute to Dom Noah headcanons 😈

So we all know that Noah usually exhibits Golden Retriever Energy when he’s with friends and/or fans, but that’s what people see.

What YOU see behind doors is someone who is a lot more calm and focused (and scary but in a sexy heheh), any time you try and provoke him or be bratty af, he’s gonna wait until you’re both alone and you KNOW that your ass is in trouble

The next morning, you’re gonna walk out of that bedroom limping with ass bruised and neck and chest covered in hickeys and legs sore

Or maybe you wouldn’t be walking at all, your dumbass might as well be bedridden and Noah would probably bring you breakfast in bed and be like “how are you baby? ☺️☺️☺️” with that fucking sweet boy attitude again

If I were that person, I’d fuck around and find out again lol

that man has “i love brats” written on his forehead, istg

imagine the following scenario:

you’re both out with friends, grabbing some dinner, sitting next to each other at the table and you brush your foot against his, at first he doesn’t pay it much mind but the second time you do it, he turns and gives you a look

just a look, nothing more and continues with his conversation. you brush his leg yet again and this time you drag it out slowly and painfully, to get another reaction from him and as soon as he turns to give you a glare, you give him the eyes*.

brushes you off again but is visibly (only to you tho) a little hot and bothered, so you push his buttons a tiny bit more by doing a little stretch that ends with a soft, quiet, little moan that catches his attention in an instant.

turns to look at you, not saying anything again but you know you’re getting your ass beat as soon as you get home, so you just say innocently “what?!”

last reaction you get from him is a clench of the jaw and his knuckles going white over gripping the knife and fork while eating his dinner. yeah, your ass is in trouble.

the eyes - the little puppy, teary eyes you make when you’re on your knees right before you’re about to suck the soul out of him

#noah sebastian #anon asks

[focsle]

Mutinies Aboard Whaleships

Hello! Here’s a long thing I spent my morning on about mutiny.

An 1840s illustration of an overturned whaleboat, with a skull and a crossed harpoon and lance over it.

With the often terrible conditions on board whaleships, one might expect mutinies to have been a common occurrence, but ones that led to bloodshed and taking command of a ship were actually very rare. Whalers who were unhappy tended to just desert at the next port. Others made their demands sometimes in the form of damaging the ship, or more commonly through work stoppages (which I wrote about more at length here). When it came to work stoppages, the Captain often acquiesced, as the unique pay structure of whaling meant that everyone was equally beholden to the success of the voyage. It was easier and more productive to hear out and try to address the demands of the crew than to resist and have a poor voyage.

There were however, a few notable violent mutinies that found themselves plastered over the newspapers. The Globe of Nantucket, January 1824, and the Junior of New Bedford, December 1857.

Alexander Starbuck, in his 1870s record of the history of the industry made a note alongside the Globe’s doomed 1822 voyage: ‘On this voyage and on this ship occurred the most horrible mutiny that is recounted in the annals of the whale fishery from any port or nation.’

Content warnings for Violence & Death under the readmore.

The Globe mutiny was unique and particularly haunting in that it wasn’t a result of boiling tension or displeasure on a difficult voyage. The instigator, a 22 year old boatsteerer named Samuel Comstock, specifically signed on the ill-fated whaler with premeditated slaughter in mind. His aim was to eventually kill all the officers, take the ship by force, sail it to an island in the South Pacific, and create his own Kingdom on said island over which he would rule (the last bit, as one might expect, did not work out for him). 

In January 1824 near Fanning Island, Samuel’s 15 year old brother George was at the wheel, and made move to shake a rattle to relieve himself of his watch. He was harshly stopped by Samuel, who was plotting to carry out his plans that night and didn’t want anyone awakened:

“I had scarcely begun to shake it when Comstock came to me and said if I made the least damned bit of noise he’d send me to hell. This was very sudden and alarming to me his suspecting nothing I began to rattle but was thus suddenly checked by a brother in flesh but not in heart for if he had been he would have put away this wicked design thinking it would ruin me forever for little did he think I would ever get home to tell the fatal news.”

Samuel was accompanied by a handful of other mutineers, but it was he alone who did the killing, murdering the captain and officers by axe, by boarding knife (a three foot double-edged blade used for cutting blubber), by pistol, by drowning. In the midst of this bloodshed he returned to his brother George.

“After killing the mate Comstock came up to light a lamp at the binnacle. I then spoke to him and asked him if he was going to hurt Smith, the other boatsteerer he said yes he should kill him and asked me where he was I told him I had not seen him (although he had been aft talking with me) for fear if I told the truth he would kill him or go in pursuit of him. he perceiving me shed tears asked me what I was crying about I informed him that I was afraid they were going to hurt me he told me he would if I talked that way this rather silenced me from fear of myself.”

Rather than killing the boatsteerer Smith, Samuel, after his particularly brutal display of violence towards the commanding officers, effectively intimidated the rest of the crew into serving under him. Boarding knife in hand, he proclaimed ‘I am the bloody man and I have the bloody hand’.

A 19th c. whaler’s boarding knife.

George was ordered to be steward, and the rest of the crew was first commanded to clean the gore from the cabins. They operated under a set of laws Comstock put forth, as they set course for the Marshall Islands to complete his designs:

“That if any one saw a sail and did not report it immediately, he should be put to death! If any one refused to fight a ship he should be put to death; and the manner of their death, this—They shall be bound hand and foot and boiled in the try pots, of boiling oil!” Every man was made to seal and sign this instrument, the seals of the mutineers being black, and the remainder, blue and white.”

Tensions grew on the ship. One mutineer was hanged on board when Comstock suspected him of wanting to take command of the ship. And the other initial men who joined up with him (as well as, of course, the others who had played no part) also suspected that when they arrived to Comstock’s destination of Mili Atoll, he was going to destroy the ship and kill everyone who came with him. They landed on the atoll on February 14th, and three days later the other mutineers shot and killed Comstock. They sent a party of six of the crew (George among them, and led by the boatsteerer Smith) to secure the Globe lying at anchor, not anticipating those six might strand the mutineers on the island. Hastily, as soon as they got aboard the group of men cut the anchor chain and sailed away for help, eventually reaching Chile. 

The surviving mutineers and two young lads, Cyrus Hussey and William Lay, were all who remained on the island. Tension also existed between the mutineers and the islanders on Mili Atoll, who were suddenly met with a group of castaways trying to aggressively impose their control over them. Ultimately, the mutineers were killed by the islanders after they tried to intimidate them. Cyrus Hussey and William Lay were spared. They were mostly kept separate from each other in two different communities on the island, where they lived mostly-peaceably with the islanders until they were eventually retrieved on November 25th by a naval schooner, the USS Dolphin, that was sent to rescue them.

“The Death of Samuel Comstock”. An 1840s illustration of Samuel Comstock falling back in the sand on an island, a cutlass in hand and a gunshot wound it his chest. From ‘The Life of Samuel Comstock, the Terrible Whaleman”

—

The other notable mutiny was that of the Junior, out of New Bedford at the close of 1857. This mutiny was more a result of ill treatment on board reaching a breaking point. The voyage was plagued with the usual bad luck, an inexperienced first-time captain, rotten food, and abusive officers. One man, a 24 year old boatsteerer named Cyrus Plumer, had a reputation of being rash and hot-headed. Prior to his signing on the Junior, he had been on another whaling vessel three years before where at one point he approached a fellow boatsteerer trying to get his support in staging mutiny to overthrow the captain and take the ship but, not finding it, deserted.

On the Junior, he found more support. On December 25th, 1857 Plumer encouraged the men (many of whom had had a bit too much to drink in light of the holiday) to take the ship that evening. The mutineers killed the captain and third mate, similarly as above, with a whaling gun, hatchet, a boarding knife, a blubber spade. The first and second mate were injured, with one taken prisoner by the mutineers and the other managing to stow himself in the lower hold for 5 days with a pistol with three shots, little water, and no food. A confession composed by the main mutineers in the ship’s log after the deed speaks to what happened after:

“This is to certify that we, Cyrus Plumer, John Hall, Richard Cartha, Cornelius Burns, and William Herbert, did, on the the night of the 25th December last, take the ship Junior, and that all others in the ship are quite innocent of the deed. The captain and third mate were killed, and the second mate was wounded and taken prisoner at the time. The mate was wounded in the shoulder with balls from a whaling gun, and at the time we fired we set his bed on fire, and he was obliged, for fear of suffocation, to take to the lower hold, where he remained until Wednesday afternoon. We could not find him before, but we undertook a strict search and found him there. We promised him his life, and the ship, if he would come out and surrender without any trouble, and so he came out. Since he has been in the ship he has been a good officer, and has kept his place. We agreed to leave him the greater part of the crew, and we have put him under oath not to attempt to follow us, but to go straight away and not molest us. We shall watch around here for some (time), and if he attempts to follow us or stay around here, we shall come on board and sink the ship. If we had not found Mr. Nelson the ship would have been lost. We have taken two boats and ten men, and everything that We wanted. We did not put Mr. Nelson in irons on account of his being wounded, but we kept a strict watch over him all the time. We particularly wish to say that all others in the ship but we five aforesaid men are quite innocent of any part in the affair.

Ultimately the mate did not keep his oath, making course for Sydney, Australia once the mutineers were out of sight in their boat. He alerted the shipowners of the situation, and word went round the globe. The mutineers were captured in Melbourne, February 1858, and brought to trial back in New Bedford. They were transported aboard the Junior itself, fitted out with prison cells to hold them. The case went all the way up to the Supreme Court. In April 1859 Plumer was found guilty of murder, and Cartha, Herbert, and Charles Stanley of manslaughter. The others were pardoned.

Plumer objected to his death sentence in a statement to the courts, saying first that he was not the man who killed the captain. That he indeed fired a shot at him but missed, and another crew member, Charles Fifield later killed the Captain with a hatchet.

“[he] stated to another person that I ‘missed the captain but that he did not miss him’ and boastingly showed the blood on his guernsey frock saying ‘it was the captain’s blood, and that he was the butcher’.

Plumer said that in the trial this man ‘wickedly sworn his own crime on my head’. He also stated that he didn’t take life but preserve it, in sparing the other two wounded officers. Officers who he ultimately held guilty for the mutiny in the first place through their complicity:

“The real culprit—the most guilty person in my judgement—the one who’s contriving brain and intiguing heart were the instigating cause of the conspiracy and mutiny on board the Junior”

He found no sympathy and was sentenced to hang, but his sentence was commuted to life in prison by president Buchanan, and then he was later fully pardoned 15 years later by president Grant.

A daguerrotype of four of the mutineers after their capture in 1858: Plumer, Rike, Cartha, and Stanley, sitting in a line against the wall with serious expressions, the first three dressed in dark suits, the last in just a shirt.

—

These two mutinies garnered particular interest because they were so rare. Again because if people were unhappy they tended to just…ditch, rather than shed blood. And also partly because some captains also reacted with their own violence at the prospect of mutiny, and found themselves pardoned by their peers for it. An example of this can be found in an article in the New Bedford Mercury, Dec 18, 1849. I’m curious about captain Issac Hussey’s relation to Cyrus Hussey, if there be one, and if that experience informed his zero tolerance.

“In June last, while cruising in the vicinity of the King’s Mill Group of Islands, the crew of the Planter, led on by a few desperate fellows, refused duty, alleging as a cause that the ship had cruised long enough, and should go into port. Capt. Hussey refused to comply with the demands of the crew, whereupon they armed themselves with knives, handspikes, boarding knives &c. and threatened the lives of the captain and officers unless their demands were immediately complied with. Capt. H. endeavored to reason with them, and upon going forward to do so was met at the try-works and forced back. After several ineffectual attempts to induce the crew to return to their duty, and finding that they had determined to force the captain to return to port or take possession of the ship, Capt. H. ordered the ship’s muskets to be brought upon deck and loaded with ball cartridges. He then addressed his crew, stating his determination to maintain his authority on board if need be at the cost of life, and gave them a half hour to consider the matter and make up their minds whether they would return to duty. At the expiration of the time, he again addressed them, and finding that they still persisted in their mutinous intentions, he very coolly and resolutely informed them that he had determined upon the course for him to pursue—that he was a good shot, and that the first man who, on being commanded by him, refused to obey, would be shot dead upon the spot. He then took up a tried musket and calling one of the ringleaders by name, ordered him to come aft; the only answer to which was defiance. Capt. H. then levelled his gun and fired. The ball entered the temple of the mutineer and passed out the opposite side of the head, and he fell dead upon the deck. The same course was then pursued with another of the ringleaders, who with the remainder of the crew preferred returning to their duty to being shot at—and the ship continued on her cruise. The peril to which the vessel and crew were exposed by the conduct of the mutineers will doubtless furnish to the minds of all a sufficient justification for the extreme measures to which he was compelled to resort, and afford to him ample vindication by the laws of his country.”

It was a bloody world all around—oft times whales, sometimes men.

#awhalin

[artzychic27]

Suicide Squad quotes based on the Blood Beetle and Ikati Bleak au

Marc: Huh? What was that? I should kill everyone and escape?… Sorry. The voices. *chuckles* I'm kidding! Jeez! That's not what they really said.

—

Mme. Bustier: Before he ran off and joined the circus, he was Le Chein Kim. A promising athlete at Francoise DuPont. He was tutored by the demon cat himself.

Max: Kim, you know, I live for these moments with you. What do you got for me?

Kim: I raised my algebra grade up to a B. All thanks to you.

Max: *Smirks* How nice.

Mme. Bustier: He thought he was getting help, but he was falling in love.

Max: You know… There’s something I’d like for you to do for me, Kim.

Kim: Anything. I mean, yeah.

Max: I need a machine gun

Kim: … A machine gun?

Mme. Bustier: Talk about a teenage romance gone wrong.

—

Marinette: *To Rose* Love your perfume. What is that? The stench of death?

—

*Lacey smashes a window open with their bat*

Mme. Mendeleiev: Seriously? The hell's wrong with you people?!

Lacey: *takes a purse* We're bad guys. It's what we do.

—

Blood Beetle: You disobey us, you die.

*Ivan snarls*

Blood Beetle: You try to run, you die. You otherwise irritate or vex me... and guess what? You die.

Sabrina: I'm known to be quite vexing. I'm just forewarning you.

Blood Beetle: Lady, shut up!

—

Mme. Bustier: And that was just the beginning.

*Emperor and Prince Pain drive crazily through Paris when police start to follow*

Prince Pain: Come on, baby. Do it! *Emperor presses down further on the gas pedal*

Emperor: *Notices the police in the side mirrors* Oh. We have got company.

Mme. Bustier: He’s crazier than him. And more fearless.

*An officer shoots at the car*

Prince Pain: Stupid cops, you're ruining date night! *He throws his fan at the wheels, making them pop and causing the car to swerve off of the road*

—

Ivan: You might wanna work on your team motivation thing. You heard of Phil Jackson?

M. Monlataing: Yeah.

Ivan: He's like the gold standard, okay? Triangle, bitch. Study.

—

M. Monlataing: Stay back. If he moves, fire him up, all right? *Opens the door to Marc’s personal cell/dorm, where he’s hanging upside down from the bars* You gonna come down from there, or what?

*Marc giggles and swings down to the floor*

M. Monlataing: You know the rules, Marc. You gotta keep off of these bars.

Marc: What, these bars?

M. Monlataing: Yes, those bars.

*Marc chews on one of the bars*

M. Monlataing: Oh, my God. You are really in bad shape upstairs, kid.

Marc: Gonna come in here and tell me that? Or are you too scared, teacher? Come on, I'm bored. Gonna send me someone to play with.

M. Monlataing: You put five teachers and guards in the hospital, kid. You’re not playing with anyone. You sleep on the floor, in your bed.

Marc: … Nah.

—

Simon: Hey, everyone can see all this trippy magic stuff, right?

Reshma: Yeah. Why?

Jean: I'm off my meds

—

Juleka: People like us, we don't get normal!

Nino: Why is it always a knife fight every single time you open your mouth? You know, outside you're amazing. But inside, you're ugly.

Juleka: We all are. We all are! Except for him. *looks at Ivan* He's ugly on the outside, too.

Ivan: Not me. I'm beautiful.

Myléne: Yeah, you are.

—

Aurore: You hate mankind much? Let me guess. Mommy didn't take you to Chuck E. Cheese on your sixth birthday. I can recommend a good therapist.

Ismael: Why?

Aurore: Because I'm bored! I need a victim, a mind to pry apart and spit in.

Ismael: *Pats Jean on the shoulder* Just leave it, mate. She's a rabbit hole. Don't fall in.

—

Ivan: All right. Now you know what you're buying. Let me tell you the price. First, I want out of here. Second, I want full custody of my sister. All right? And mom and dad can have, like, supervised visits. But mom’s jackass brother can't come. Pavlo can't come.

Mme. Bustier: Pavlo’s out.

Ivan: He's out. Third, you’re gonna pay for my sister’s whole education. Best schools. And then I want her to go to college. Like Harvard. Or Yale.

Mme. Bustier: So Ivy League.

Ivan: Ivy League, yeah. One them big joints, you know?

Mme. Bustier: Mmm-hmm.

Ivan: And, uh, if she can't cut it and her grades start slipping, I need you to white-people that thing.

Mme. Bustier: Mmm-hmm.

Ivan: You know how we do.

Mme. Bustier: Oh, yeah.

—

Marinette: Anybody who touches me is dead. Anybody who to... *Gets injected* AAAAHH! Lady! Hey! Nurse, or whatever you are!

Technician: Injection successful.

Marimettte: Hey. Miss? What was that?

Technician 2: Location verified. Next!

Marinette: Oh, you fucker!

—

Mme. Mendeleiev: Any other requests?

Cosette: Oh! An espresso machine.

Jean: B-E-T!

—

Simon: *To the teachers* One day, somehow, some way, I'm gonna get out of here. And I'm gonna rain down on all of you like the Holy Ghost.

—

Emperor: Would you die for me?

Marc: Yes.

Emperor: That's too easy. Would you live for me?

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #mlb au #suicide squad #shadybug and claw noir #scarlet beetle & ikati black #incorrect quotes #mlb incorrect quotes

[tonberry-yoda]

Inspiration - Rohan Kishibe

Pairing - Rohan Kishibe x f!reader

Warnings - none!

Word Count - 719

Notes - this is one of my older writings, but my first writing I'm posting on here! I really hope you enjoy because even though it's short, it is one of my absolute favorites!

(image is not mine)

“Damn.” She looked at the clock on her computer. It was almost 8. She was so busy doing homework that she had no time to eat. She sighed and put her head down on her desk, groaning. “What a pain in the ass.” She saved her writing as a draft and threw on a jacket and grabbed her keys, opening her door. “Son of a bitch, just my luck. Thanks, Zeus.” She grabbed an umbrella and looked at the rain pouring down in the streetlamp. Sure, it was beautiful as an art form, but not when you were in desperate need of dinner. She crawled in her car, and adjusted her rear view mirror, finding a couple walking together in the rain. They were pressed against each other and laughing about something. She could only dream to have something like that at this point. At the moment, she was an overworked college student who lost track of time and forgot to eat. She sighed, and started up her car, the windshield wipers moving the rain that was being shone on by her porch light. Tonight was going to be a long night.

“Can I just get a meatball sub? Thanks.” The sound of customers and plates clanking was muffled in her ears as her mind was in a completely different realm. She needed inspiration. Something. Anything. She kept deleting her paper for class. It just wasn't working. Nothing she was writing felt right. There were some amazing writers out there, but none of her writing felt… good enough. She sighed and took a sip of her hot cocoa, looking out the darkened window, seeing people walk by holding hands with their children or their lovers, all overcast by their own umbrellas. It was beautiful, but it wasn't enough. Suddenly, she was pulled from her own mind when a man sat across from her in her booth. “Can I help you?” She tilted her head slightly and grabbed her butter knife just in case. “My name is Rohan Kishibe. You look sad, are you alright?” “I'm sorry? First of all, like the Rohan Kishibe? Like the manga artist.” “Are you a fan?” “A huge fan!” He signed a napkin and handed it to her. “And second, Mr. Kishibe, I'm not sad.” “You sure look sad.” “Well, I'm not-” “Then what are you?” He fluttered open a sketchbook and looked back at her. “I'm sorry?” “What are you?” “Your meatball sub, ma’am.” The waiter sat it across from her and Rohan raised his hand slightly, pen in between his fingers. “I'll get some fruit water, and then I can get to work.” “Yes sir, I'll be back with that momentarily.” The waiter hurried off and her eyes went dark looking at the manga artist. “That’s not going on my bill.” “I understand. We’ll split then. 50/50.” “Woah, I was just asking for you to pay for your fruit water, not a quarter of my damn meal!” “I don't mind. Anyway, as I was saying, how do you feel?” She put her face in her hand and looked back at the manga artist. “Uninspired I guess. I have a paper due soon, but haven't had any inspiration to do it. I want it to be really good, but I don't know.” “Thank you.” Rohan nodded at the waiter and then looked back at her. “Uninspired, you say?” She nodded and took a bite of her food. “I just want… something. You know?” “Oh believe me, I know. Question: do you mind if I draw you?” “Y-You want to draw me?” “I'll draw you twice. One that you can keep, and one for me.” “I-I don't mind at all!” He began sketching as she continued talking, and before they knew it, it had been over an hour and a half of just the two of them talking. “Here you go. And here’s the money for the drink. I quite like you.” She smiled and looked over the drawing with a red face. “Thank you, Rohan. This means a lot.” “And since I'm here,” he slipped over a piece of paper with his number on it. “Call me sometime. I like hearing your voice.” He walked out of that restaurant and suddenly, she had the inspiration to finish her paper in one night.

#rohan #rohan kishibe #rohan jjba #jjba #x reader #rohan x reader #rohan kishibe x reader #jojos bizarre adventure #anime #manga #rohan kishibe x you #rohan kishibe fluff #rohan kishibe imagine #first writing!!

[chaos-vulpix]

Incorrect Legacyverse Quotes 2

PART 1 (New Year, New Incorrect Quotations)

Kai: Nothing in life is free Jay: Love is free! Cole: Adventure is free Zane: Knowledge is free Nya: Everything is free if you take it without paying

Lloyd: Where are you going? Harumi: To get ice cream or commit a felony, I’ll decide on the way there

Jesse: Wanna play 20 questions? Cole: Sure! Jesse: You first Cole: What's your favourite colour? Jesse: Triangle. My turn: do you like boys?

Kai: I think Nya is mad at you Jay: What makes you say that? Kai: Because she's cleaning up the mess you made and asked me to deliver this to you hands him a note Jay, reading the note: "Dear Jay, I hope this note finds you before I do :)"

Jamie: I want to stop them, but I’m too good to kill anyone Olivia: I’m not. Give me the gun

sharpens knife Harumi: We have ways of making people talk cuts a piece of cake Cole: ...can I have some? Antonia: Cake is for talkers

Nya, reading a fan’s question: How would you describe Kai's mind? Zane: Like an internet browser Kai: What? Cole: 17 tabs are open, 4 of them are frozen Jay: And he has no idea where the music is coming from. Kai: ...

Cole: Did Jesse just tell me he loves me for the first time? Miranda: Yeah Cole: And did I do finger guns back? Miranda: Yeah, you did

Puffer: Fresh lemonade, freshly squeezed~ Bridget: Puffer Puffer: Pour it in a cup~ Bridget: Puffer, stop Puffer: Can't get enough~ Olivia: When you work with a team, you have to speak to them in a polite & professional manner Puffer: Oo- Olivia: Shut the fuck up

Ray: My lower back is killing me~ Maya: And I~ Ray: I must confess, I've lost the kids~ Maya: Lost the ki- You lost the kids!?!?

Zane: What do you think you're going to bring to your team? Olivia: Impending doom. A feeling of impending doom Jamie: We've already got that feeling, so just top it off a bit Harumi: I've got faith in you, I think you're going to turn this around for us Jamie: I don't. I picked her because I love the bare bones of the woman. I absolutely adore you, but we're gonna fuckin' die Olivia: Yeah

Jamie: Are they really gonna beat up Chad? Olivia, recording it on their phone: Yes Jamie: ...Sunni, pass the popcorn

Lloyd: Nothing makes a gamer more nervous than when the game autosaves in a seemingly harmless location Jamie: This is an awfully convenient collection of healing items... Kai: Why is all of this ammo here? Jay: Where did all the enemies go? Cole: This room has a lot of wide, open space in it... Jesse: The music stopped suddenly! Harumi: No, there it is... Olivia: ...That's an awful lot of bass

Lloyd: What happens to all your teen angst when you turn 20? Like, where does it go? Bridget: They diagnose it as anxiety

Jesse: L is for the way you look at me. O is for the only one I see. V is very, very, extraordinary- Miranda: EGG

#ninjago #the ninja legacy whip #legacyverse #incorrect quotes #surprise appearance by the smith parents #maya has the braincell

[vivid-ink]

Hello babe <3 If you don't already know, I am obsessed with your story the Love Shack! Since it has come to a beautiful close I figure it was time to pay my respects and let you know specifically why this story is so fantastic.

First of all let me start by saying, I was so entranced by this story and emotional over it that after reading the last chapter I ended up talking about it with my boyfriend for over an hour! He let me reccount the whole story in full detail while we ate dinner and let me tell you, he got invested!! At first he was just listening to be nice to me but it got to a point where when I would pause to scarf down food for a few minutes he would get so impatient for me to continue. He's just glaring at me like "Bitch, what did Neyomi do? You can't leave me hanging like that!" I thoroughly enjoyed it, so basically he too is a fan now.

Girl, the way I went into this series thinking "ooh this will be a nice steamy threesome" and then somehow ended up balling my eyes out with every chaper, ILLEGAL! You had me crying within the first few paragraphs of the last chapter. Just for some perspective I actually don't remember the last time I legitimately cried full on while reading. I was holding back sobs so my roomate wouldn't come check up on me. Needless to say, you had me in a chokehold, sis. And I'm living for it! This will definitely be one of my favorite stories to reread and I think about it very often.

I could go on and on about the specific reasons I feel that this story enraptured me, but here are just a few.

Your depiction of Neteyam is honest to Eywa one of my all time favorites! Not only do I feel like he is very representative of the canon character but also extremely captivating. One of the reasons I think Neteyam (and truly all Na'vi men) is so hot is becuase of the raw male power tha radiates off of him, and I mean in the best way possible. Like other Na'vi males he shows that he can be a provider and protector (which biologically does something to me so I can not be blamed for finding this appealing haha) while also holding himself with a confidence and sense of responsibility that only a true man can capture. You get so many reminders of this power in your writing, even just in the way you describe his attire. Things like his battle band and sheathed knife or bow all serve as visual reminders that Neteyam is a respectable powerful and influential male that will someday be Olo'eyktan. And then to see him crumble and shake and quiver for Neyomi....that is so hot! I'm not sure if any of that made sense but basically, you nailed Neteyam. (not mad about the double meaning there haha).

Then there's Lo'ak who I have decided is the MVP in this story AND NO ONE CAN CHANGE MY MIND! He shows such a wonderful side of Lo'ak's character that doesn't often get displayed. He is still rebellious and free and a troublemaker, but deep down he loves his brother so much and isn't wiling to let Neteyam get in his own way of his happiness. Not only did the poor man have to witness Neyomi and Neteyam disregard his advice constantly while he suffered to watch but he straight up took a few punches in the face just to get Neteyam to work out his own shit. That is the fire I love about, Lo'ak. Consequences be damned, he will do what needs to be done. He is the ultimate wingman and I truly love him so much in this story. Without him let's face it, those two would have ended up miserable. He is the hero of this story and the main person that made me hold onto hope throughout each chapter.

Neyomi was also such a beautiful character. She is a perfect blend of independant and strong while still embracing her feminine side. I love seeing female characters like this because it shows that this duality exists and it's okay to embrace our own masculine and feminine traits within each of us. Sure she was stubborn as heck (and so was Neteyam of course) but she never completely surrendered herself to grief. She let herself cry and feel her emotions, but still tried to press forward with her life no matter how much her heart ached. I respect that.

What I'm trying to get at babe is that you have TALENT! Your storytelling completely transported me and I wish I could read the whole thing again for the first time. Please write a book or something because I would genuinly read an 800 page book if it meant you were the author. Thank you for all the time and efffort that you have put into your stories and into this community. I know how long projects like these take and I really do appreciate you putting the work in. I hope you have fabulous day! Thanks for reading my very long ramble. Sending you many forehead kisses <3

Oh my goodness, @wheneclipsefalls THANK YOU for your amazing message! I can't believe you got your boyfriend invested in 'The Love Shack'! Your storytelling skills must be A+++ if you recounted it all to him & it kept his interest! 🤣 My husband sighs every time I start talking about Avatar lol!

GURLLL, we all go crazy for a big, strong man who has a good balance of dominance and tenderness... I'm glad you like my portrayal of an adult Neteyam. 😁 I try to keep my characters as well-balanced & as true to canon as I feel they should be. As for my OCs, I always create a little mindmap of them and what their personalities/characteristics are before I start writing. It's like I need to bring life to them that way first. I wanted Neyomi to have a good balance of hard and soft, if that makes sense (I feel like I always write my female leads this way, in different ways), so I'm happy if you feel I've nailed this. I seem to have an inability to write quick drabbles (you may have noticed lol), so the result is usually fleshed out characters and fleshed out plots. 😛 Lo'ak is absolutely MVP #1 in 'The Love Shack'. I often see Neteyam being touted as the 'bestest big bro ever', which I completely agree with. I wanted to portray a more mature Lo'ak who loves & appreciates his big bro, so I thought what better way to do this than to have him repay the favour and look out for Neteyam. 🥰

You want me to write a book?? 🥹 I'm so flattered. I kind of did, in a way. My first Neteyam story 'Violet Eyes' is 20 chapters and 150k words. I always promote this work because it's my proudest achievement to date. It's a real unpredictable rollercoaster with a completely original narrative. Give it a try if you haven't & I hope you love it too.

Honestly, thank you for taking the time to leave me your message. This past 10 months has been full of creative fulfilment writing for the ATWOW fandom. All my works are in my masterlist. It is always such a JOY to hear from readers who have been moved by my work. You have absolutely made my day, my lovely. 😘😘😘 Thank you, THANK YOU so much for your support. A thousand forehead kisses back at ya. xx

#annalise asks #so many feelings right now #thank you readers #thank you my dearest

[crisalidaseason]

more of Levi being a dad? like his daughter likes someone and Levi becomes protective and gives the don't hurt my daughter talk

>>It's okay if you don't want though<<

I'm so so so so sorry I took so long!

Dad!Levi x Daughter!Reader

Prompt: Levi with a daughter that has a crush on someone.

Tags and content warning: Levi being a paranoid dad, Hange being a menace. Reader's crush is not specified. Reader uses she/her pronouns and it's implied to be a teenager (nothing else is specified)

People think Levi doesn't pay attention or notice anything that is not related to the missions, but they are so wrong. Levi is a wonderful observer, noticing changes of behavior in everyone. He just doesn't give enough of a fuck.

That means he finds really odd when you're suddenly coming to the headquarters a bit too often with excuses like "I'm paying my dad a little visit" or "bringing hange some pastries they love". It's not like he doesn't appreciate you visiting, but you were never a fan of the military headquarters.

Hange was the first to put the spark of paranoia on his mind. "Hmmm, she's always coming during the cadets training hours" or "is she wearing make-up? Is that a new dress?". He tried not to think about but it was impossible, so one day he decided to join one of the training sessions.

He spotted you watching the training on the second floor and like the hawk eye he is, Levi followed your gaze and saw a specific soldier. A scrawny one who was also a disaster. Now Levi had nothing against you courting people but he knew soldiers were the worst, he would have to give that soldier the talk.

The poor soldier didn't even know who grabbed him by the neckline of his shirt. All he could see was the intimidating 1,60m man pinning him to the wall.

"you've caught my baby girl's attention, how dare you?"

"what do you mean you don't know who I'm talking about?"

When Levi finally let's the poor soldier go, they just run away traumatized. And when you find out about it you wanna die so bad from embarrassment. You have to explain the old man that you were crushing from afar and Levi just traumatized a kid for nothing.

Safe to say that he now asks you, awkwardly, if your romantic interests are aware of your feelings before threatening them. To be honest he intimidates them anyway and the poor soldier thinks it's just gratuitous hate from Captain Levi.

If you end up getting a date with your crush, Levi will be worried the entire time you're getting ready. He's asking you a million times if it's safe, giving you another pocket knife 'just in case', also giving you a strange concoction Hange made (something with lots of pepper).

When your date comes to pick you up he makes sure to take them aside and very calmly say "if you hurt her, I will rip your limbs off one by one and feed you your own toes".

If your crush ends up not being nice, expect Levi to just make them disappear. Don't ask me details, I don't know what happens.

If you have a nice partner, then he will test them infinitely. Test their loyalty, their strength, the way they make tea (Levi finds everyone's abilities with brewing tea atrocious).

He genuinely thinks nobody is good enough for you, but deep down Levi is scared that he's gonna die and nobody will take care of you. He wants you to have a real partner just in case death finally takes him.

Isn't he such a cute dad? A little pinscher.

#levi ackerman #levi aot #levi fanfiction #aot x reader #levi x reader #hange zoe

[milkywaygg]

Confidential Affairs (Chapter 3)

Interpretations of the Cosmas belong to @eripops. Enjoy!

Month One

For once in god know how long, Euphemia finally managed to get a day off from work. Despite not being well-taught at house keeping chores given that her mother felt that it was the woman’s job to provide for the family, she spent all morning in front of the stove, scrambling eggs and cooking toast for her fiancé, pouring some orange juice into a cup before setting it all down of a tray. With a red rose lying down across the plate, she took the tray and carried it to the room she shared with him, setting it down gently as Jules rubbed his eyes and put his reading glasses on.

“Breakfast? Aw sweetie…thank you.”, Jules said warmly, kissing her on the cheek, “But I’m not very far along. I can still get up..”

“No no, you just relax.”, Euphemia said, massaging his shoulders as he picked up his fork and knife, “You’re going to need a much energy as possible.”

“Oh my…”, Jules said softly, tears  falling down his cheeks. Euphemia took this as an opportunity to sit up next to him in bed, wiping the tears drops off his cheeks, “Can you believe it? A baby!”

Euphemia said nothing, but smiled lovingly at her fiancé as she pressed her hand against his stomach, rubbing it gently as her fingers went over the small bump that formed. For a moment, all her troubles from the previous night went away as she imagined what the little one would look like. Would he or she have her eyes and Jules’ hair? Hopefully not his poor vision. She really didn’t want to be spending money on prescription glasses anytime soon.

“Oh golly, how did I get so lucky to end up with someone like you, sugar plum? You’ve made me the happiest man in the galaxy”, Jules purred, sneaking a quick kiss on the lips before turning back to his breakfast, “You know, I couldn’t help but do some thinking last night while I was waiting for you to come home.”

“Hmmm? What’s that darling?”

“What did you have in mind for the wedding? You know, it would be the bees knees if we could be married before our baby got here.”, Jules said softly, rubbing his tummy lovingly as he rested his head on Euphemia’s hand, “I know your parents aren’t exactly superstar fans of me, but do you reckon they’d help chip in? You know, if we told them their first grandchild was on the way..”

As soon as he reminded her of her parents, Euphemia stopped massaging Jules, her nervousness coming back. She knew all of this was something that he needed to know, but every time she looked at his face, she couldn’t help but want to give him the world. While they were dating, Jules had told him all about his home life and all the time something as simple as a TV Dinner was considered fancy dining to him and his family. However, given how she had spoken to her mother last night, and how enraged she was to see Jules’ engagement ring, she’d have a better shot riding a volcano than asking her parents to pay for the wedding.

“Darling?”, Jule’s voice asked her again, “Are you alright? What’s the matter?”

“Err…nothing dear. It’s just-“, Euphemia paused, unsure of what to say, “Let’s just say they’re not exactly thrilled with me right now.”

“Oh…that’s right.”, Jules said softly, his saddened voice tugging at Euphemia’s heart, “Do…do you still want to marry me? I mean..I guess we don’t have to if you don’t want”

“Are you insane? Of course I want to marry you!”, Euphemia snapped, making Jules jump back slightly. Seeing his surprised reaction, Euphemia took a breath, “I mean, yes. I still want to marry you. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

“But what about your parents?”

“Let me worry about them. You just worry about our baby.”, Euphemia commanded, getting up from her spot, “I don’t want you straining yourself now, and I expect you to start taking it easy from now on, even if it means taking time off from your job.”

“Well baby doll..”, Jules asked nervously, twiddling his fingers a bit, “Are you going to be taking time off too? I mean, I don’t want to worry about this baby all by myself.”

“I’ll do what I got to do…you just rest.”

“Well Mr Cosma, everything seems to be going smoothly. Looks like you’re about 2 weeks in now and seems to be developing at quite a nice pace.”, Rubella, Jules’ gynecologist, commented, smiling warmly at the green-haired male, “That would explain the incident with the roses earlier.”

“What? How come?”

“You didn’t pay very close attention in Sex Ed, did you?”, she smirked, receiving a head shake, “Well, as most fairies know, when a male fairy gets pregnant, their bodies develop a 6th core towards where the umbilical cord generally is. Therefore, instead of focusing so much on your ability to produce magic and conjure spells, your body is transferring some of that energy over to focus on the well-being of your baby.”

“Wha wha what?”

“Your body needs your magic to take care of the baby.”, Rubella said in simpler terms, earning a smile from Jules as he finally understood what was said, “It’s kinda like food. You eat more because you need to feed yourself and your baby, right? Magic is kinda like that.”

“Ooohh gotcha. So…wait….does that mean the baby is stealing my magic?”, Jules asked, “Am I not gonna be able to produce magic anymore?”

“Not really stealing….more like borrowing. You’re going to be magically vulnerable for a good while; I’d say at least until a year after you have the baby. You need to be extremely cautious.”

“Cau-what?”

“Careful, Mr. Cosma. Around the next 4 months of so, you shouldn’t be able to produce magic at all and at that time, you’ll lose your immortality as well.”, Rubella explained, earning yet another blank look from her patient. “Honestly, I don’t think you read enough as a kid.”

“I-I’m sorry Doc. I’m just kinda nervous.”, Jules said, crossing her legs, “I’ve never done this before and it’s making me and Euphemia nervous.”

“Euphemia?”

“My fiancé. We’re getting married soon. I love her so so so much, but…”, Jules’s tone turned rather worried, “She’s been acting really weird lately. I asked her what we were going to do about the wedding, and she pretty much just brushed me off and said not to worry about it. I mean, I asked her if she still wanted to marry me and she said yes, but I’m not so sure if she’s telling the truth.”

“Well, maybe she’s stressed out. I mean, from what you tell me, a wedding AND a new baby? That’s got to be a lot of pressure.”

“Yeah…and she’s been working lots. She’s always coming home super duper late and…I dunno. I don’t want her to be stressed. Maybe…I should do something for her”, Jules mumbled, getting up from the patient’s seat, “Thanks for checking me out. I’m glad you had time to see me today.”

“I’ll see you again in a couple of weeks, like we discussed.”, Rubella smiled as Jules left to talk briefly with the receptionist before leaving, his thoughts spiraling from his new baby to the upcoming wedding and how stressed Euphemia had been lately.

The way she acted just didn’t sit right with him. He has to take it easy while she goes out and does all the hard work? He’s not even a month in and she’s already putting him to bed rest. Jules knew that she meant well and wanted to take care of him, but he didn’t feel that she needed to babysit him or slave away just for him. It wasn’t right…

His head began to pound and his stomach churned as he continued to float down the street, fighting the urge to not puke all over the street as he made it to his house, hoping that Euphemia hadn’t been whisked away to work on her day off, like she had for the past few weeks.

“Jules! There you are.”, Euphemia said, kissing him on the cheek, “How did the doctor go? What took you so long getting home?”

“I…uh…”

“Ugh! You know what, sit down.”, she instructed, placing her hands firmly but gently on Jules’ shoulders and forcing him to sit down on the couch, “Did you walk home?”

“Well yea..I mean how else could I?”

“You should have called me. I would have picked you up.”

“And carry me home? Dear, you’re crazy.”

“No. I meant I would have teleported you home. You don’t need to be stressing yourself out like this.”

“Darling I’m fine.”, Jules said, frowning with concern as he looked at Euphemia body language. Her shoulders were square and tense, and her eyes looked intensely into his. In an attempt to calm her down, Jules took her hand into his and rubbed small circle in the middle of her palm, “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I-I know…it’s just…”

“Euphemia…talk to me. Please?”

“I…I don’t know. I guess it’s just my parents from last night…I wish they weren’t so awful to you.”

“It doesn’t bother me, darling. I’m used to it.”, Jules shrugged, before frowning again, “But you didn’t seem to want to talk about the wedding. A-are you sure you still want to marry me, or are you still mad over the party?”

Ah yes, the party. Euphemia couldn’t say she wasn’t embarrassed by his squirrely performance, but given how she knew nothing was good enough for her parents, she didn’t hold a lot of resentment towards him. Yet, there had been some hope that if he acted classy enough, that they’d disregard his background and accept him as part of the family  Only know did she realize that wishful thinking was often unrealistic.

“No..I’m not mad, and I told you earlier. Of course, I want to marry you. Just…I really need you to take care of yourself for me, ok? For me? For our baby? I love you and can’t imagine my life without you.”

“Oh darling, I love you too. It’s just…you know I am capable to taking care of myself, right?”

“I know that”, Euphemia snorted, “But it’s my job to take care of you. My job to provide for you.”

“And you do a stellar job, but I’m not a child. I’m your fiancé, and I want to be treated as such.”, Jules said, making his tone slightly firm but still soft.

“I know but I don’t want you to worry about me so much. I’m fine you know.”

“Then how come you look so stressed every evening after work?”

“You know how work is. Just a lot of projects and assignments to work on.”, Euphemia excused herself.

“And the night you came back as a frog?”, Jules asked, crossing his arms, “You want to explain that?”

“Mother’s wand malfunctioned.”

“Uh huh…”

“Sweetheart,” Euphemia got up and kneeling down, taking his hand into hers, “I promise I’m going to be ok. Just let me work everything out while you manage everything with the baby ok?”, she asked, kissing his hand softly.

“Ohhh, you know how much I love it when you do that.”, Jules blushed, “But you promise to tell me if something going on.” “Swear by it.”

#fairly oddparents #cosma family #fanfic #au

[hansoheeglobal]

Q. I thought that the emotional acting became deeper through this work. Have you ever felt like you, as an actor, have grown in your acting?

A. (Shaking head) I don't have any. I am a person focused on the field. That's why I tend to break down when I can't concentrate. Everyone says I'm being embarrassed (laughter), but when I go as Chaeok, I told not to talk to her because I have to concentrate. Once I do, I feel better. I don't know how far this concentration will go or how much focus I will have. I feel like I haven't been able to concentrate 100% yet, so I'm not satisfied with myself. I think I'll be satisfied if I focus because everything is in order, but I still feel like I'm not focused enough.

Q. Although she is wounded on the inside, she is a strong character on the outside. How did you try to understand and digest it?

A. The wound must have become dull. It's 10 years, but chasing that pain ultimately means carrying it with a very strong mind. So it can't be described as a wound. It ends with her promise, her determination to find her mother. So it doesn't matter if you are cut by a knife or risk your life. People with scars can't do that. She thought it was the strength to move forward. For example, if you have 100 days when someone dies, you can cry for 10 days. But not when the 99th day comes. Chaeok must have been like that too.

Q. Actor Park Seojoon gave a lot of praise in the interview. How would you praise actor Park Seojoon?

A. For me, it shows when the filming set is difficult. The assistant director even asks if I’m okay. Seojun oppa looks really good, but he didn't make it obvious. He's good at controlling himself. It's amazing that only a mentally strong person can do it. He could've said it was difficult, but he didn't. Later, he said, "It was really hard for me, too." So, I said, "I can't tell. How did you endure it?" I thought it was amazing. I thought I was filming while leaning on (Seojoon) oppa, but he didn't say anything and he was filming while leaning on me. Since (Seojoon) oppa was so dignified, I didn't think I should say that I was having a hard time as well. I felt very scared of Seojun oppa at first. He doesn't even talk much. (Seojoon) oppa always poses on set. He sits in his chair and looks at his phone and sits still. How can I talk to him when it’s like that? Since we got close, there is no one in the world who is this friendly.

Q. Writer Kang Eunkyung said she was impressed by Han So-hee's attitude. What is something you consider important in the field?

A. It's concentration. It's not just about focusing on the actors when creating a work. Everyone on set, including the director, must do the same. I don't like to chat or joke before filming. It's okay once we've finished filming all the scenes, but I can't get excited before filming. This will probably be like this for the rest of my life.

Q. Looking at the works you've been doing, I think you've been doing a lot of heavy and serious characters.

A. Strangely, I only get characters that are opposite to my personality. I talk a lot, but my character is quiet. So, I want to try a character that matches my personality. I think Nabi in 'Nevertheless' was a bit similar, but her way of looking at men was completely wrong. Dakyung from ‘The World of the Married’ was also wrong.

Q. Recently, on the so-called "solitary room" (a message group on KaTalk) you wrote, "I'll do my best not to embarrass my fans, so please give me just the right love until then. I'll pay you back twice as much." Is there a reason you did that?

A. I'm a person who started my career as an actor, and I don't want my fans to hear that I'm not good at it. I couldn't be better when I hear that I'm good at it. But you shouldn't be told that you're bad at it. This is something that should never be done, and you shouldn't use it as a career. There must be a reason why you get paid, and that's because you did the job perfectly and did it well. So, I don't want to be embarrassed when fans say, 'The person I like, Han Sohee, is an actress.' I think we should be able to say with pride, "My unnie is an actor, she's an actress," not "Sohee, you're pretty."

Q. Is there a reason why you use "hyung-nim" to actor Park Seojoon and actor Do Kyungsoo?

A. I can't say "oppa" to anyone. Even when I was young, there was no oppa around me. The word "oppa" is awkward. Only when we meet face to face can I quietly say, ‘Oppa was like this,’ but I don’t like calling ‘oppa’ through text, so I call them ‘hyung’ or ‘hyung-nim’.

Q. You became a hot topic by expressing your affection for actress Song Hyekyo. Do you usually express it like that?

A. I am only nice to people I like. Human relationships are closed. (Showing her cell phone) I only have 35 people in my phone contact.

Q. Did you save your younger sister's number that you fought with? (laughs)

A. (firmly) disowned. So I don’t have a younger sister.

Q. When you look at the fans, honey drips from my eyes. you're famous for being nice to your fans, to the point where I can't help but think, 'It must be nice to be a fan of Han Sohee.'

A. I'm so thankful and happy for the fans. I think they really like and support me for no reason. I'm expressing as much as I can to those fans.

#han sohee #xeesoxee #hansohee #lee sohee #korean actress #한소희