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tainted-wine · 4 years

Text

Past Due

Reader X Giran, Dabi, and Mr. Compress (NSFW)

(OOF, This little bastard of a fic has been fighting me every step of the way. It took so long because I was second guessing every single sentence I wrote. Finally, here’s the darkest shit I’ve written so far.)

(This is pre-Overhaul arc, so the bois Giran and Compress are still whole)

Words: 7.8k

Heed These Warnings: Murder, Kidnapping, Noncon/Dubcon, Giran being a dangerous dude, Knives, Forced Oral and Anal, Voyeurism, Humiliation, and the Protagonist just being a total dumbass

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For as long as you have lived, luck has been by your side like a bipolar twin attached to your hip. It was thanks to luck that you were born into a quirkless family in the trashiest of neighborhoods, your penniless parents separating and leaving you to fend for yourself. The streets had no use for you; no quirk, no charisma, no money, you were just another parasite desperately clinging onto the city’s rotten underbelly.

But it was also thanks to luck that you survived this long. The average person can remember each and every brush with death in their life clearly, but you—you’ve lost count of how many times this cruel world has tried to pick you off. So far, you have dodged every bullet, knife, and blast of quirk-based power aimed in your direction. How do you keep slipping past all of these dangerous criminals? Your reckless ass has no idea. Luck was simply a sadistic douchebag that enjoyed dangling you over the jaws of death, only to yank you back up and repeat the process like a sad little yo-yo.

As you drove to your place in a panic, you wonder if luck has ever fucked you this hard before.

———

Things had gotten somewhat organized, and by that you mean that you finally had some sort of plan instead of gravitating toward the nearest opportunity that didn’t look ready to tear you apart and throw your remains in an alley. You’ve even made an accomplice, a woman not quite as powerless as you, but an unfortunate soul with less experience in this…line of work. To make things even better, you managed to strike a deal with a prominent broker. Giran was a name known all throughout Japan’s black market, and to think that he’d see potential in a quirkless broad whose notable trait was simply not dying—it was your lucky day. He supplied you with weapons that will make surviving in this hellhole much easier, telling you to pay him within the next five days.

Your partner in crime asked if this was a good idea, that you didn’t seem capable of gathering that amount of money in the span of time you were given. There was no reason for her to worry; with the heat the two of you were packing now, you now had the ability to rob more than distracted civilians wandering the streets.

But before you could even enjoy your brand new firepower, luck decided to be a total asshole again. It was only the second day when you both were ambushed by a group of ruffians. Their quirks were pretty damn impressive, honestly. One of them levitated your gun right out of your hands before you could even fire, instantly leaving you helpless so that the other dudes could close in and beat the snot out of you.

The two of you woke up, bruised, bloodied, and stripped of Giran’s weapons. Damn, you don’t remember a deal ever going south this quickly. Must be a new record.

Alright, so your weapons were gone and you only have a fraction of the money so far. You can figure this out. Your partner was fuckin’ hysterical and you have to smack her before she gives herself a heart attack. The money was barely coming in, and before you knew it, the fifth day had arrived.

Yeah, you weren’t ready to face him yet.

Look, you weren’t exactly running away from him, you were just making sure to give yourself some space while you got your shit back together. That’s why you immediately moved to another part of town and now made sure to never drive down the same route twice. No, you weren’t gathering money for yourself and completely brushing off Giran, like your partner was suspecting. She has no idea what she’s talking about so she needs to shut up already and help you sell this jewelry that you worked so hard in stealing.

Okay, maybe Giran has been trying to call you for the past couple of days and you were officially ghosting him, but she didn’t need that knowledge to add to her stress. You probably weren’t even in any danger. The deal didn’t cost that much, and he didn’t seem like the type of guy to get truly pissed over some petty crook like you, right?

It’s been a week since the due date, and you both were still safe and sound. It was time to get your paranoid little buddy and discuss your next course of action.

When you reached her shoddy rented room, the door was already cracked open. Strange, and very careless; she should know better. You pushed it the remainder of the way and strutted inside. “Don’t leave your door open, dumbass. Anyway, I gotta—”

Your partner was sprawled out on the bed, open eyes still showing hints of the terror that she most definitely felt before her body became riddled with bullets. The smell of smoke and blood finally reached your nose when the shock of the scene before you wore off. The poor gal probably didn’t deserve such a gruesome fate.

“Oh…nevermind.” You close the door and briskly walk through the hall and out of that dangerous building.

------

This all led up to you speeding to your own run-down apartment.

‘Don’t jump to conclusions, now. This might have nothing to do with Giran. Maybe she pissed off some guys behind my back, or maybe I pissed them off and they found her before they found me. I keep forgetting just how many shit-lists probably have my name on them.’

Whatever it was, that instinctive twist in your gut was telling you that it was no longer safe around these parts. You had overstayed your welcome, anyway.

You glanced in every direction as you entered the building. At what time was your partner killed? If they’re after you too, do they already know where you live? There was no time to waste.

Checking to see that you weren't being followed, you entered your room and went straight to packing. You were basically a drifter, so you had few long-term possessions, so few that they could all fit into one bag. You packed your clothes, essential groceries, and your knickknacks that were ripe for selling. You’re loaded up and ready to go, and you don’t even need to go through the trouble of contacting an accomplice anymore. It’s those paper-thin silver linings that keep you going through this endless shitstorm of a life. With a silent goodbye to your short-lived home, you made your way to the door…

And a series of knocks freezes you in your tracks.

The sudden quickening of your heartbeat was dizzying. Shit. Shit shit shit. Whoever is on the other side can’t be friendly, but you had checked! You made sure no one was tailing you!

You backed away while your eyes darted around, deciding if you should defend yourself or find an alternate route to escape. Your only line of defense was a switchblade, so fighting was probably as bad of an idea as it usually was. You looked back to the single window in the room. ‘The fire escape.’

Several harder knocks spurred you into action. You unlocked and pulled at the old window, the worn frame almost breaking off as it opened. The damn ladder and stairs were one room across, but you can jump across the sills if you were careful enough.

There were more knocks, this time followed by a male voice. “Why the hell are we knocking? She’s not gonna answer.”

Another man responded. Shit, there’s more than one? “True. I just like to give the peaceful route a try.”

Something happened to the door that your fear-addled mind couldn’t comprehend. In the span of a second, the wooden door’s shape was warped and shrunken down into a small sphere. You didn’t spend any time to observe the two men at the entrance—you were already scrambling out of the window. The small ledge was difficult to balance on. If you could just get enough leverage for a jump…

“Oi!”

Fuck, you had to take the leap now, but before you could, a pair of hands took hold of you. In a blind panic, you drew your small blade and swung wildly at your attacker, doing your best not to lose your footing. One hand drew back and you heard a hiss of something like “little bitch”, and you thought this was your chance to break free and get away, but the hand still gripping the waist band of your pants got hot, so hot that it reached your skin and had you yelling in pain from the intense heat. With a powerful yank, you were falling back into the room and being pinned to the floor.

‘No no come on, Lady Luck. You’re always here to save my ass, right? I could use your help right fucking now.”

You thrashed and screamed, but then you saw the face of your captor and ew, that shit made you scream even louder. At least make the last face you see more appealing and less…burnt.

The burned man just looked annoyed while holding you down. “Just compress her already.”

Compress? What? Were they about to crush you? That sounds like a really shitty way to go. A gloved hand was pressed to your head, and everything began to distort at a rate too fast for your mind.

It was dark…you felt like you were floating…are you dead? Did it happen that fast? At least it was painless. There was a voice echoing somewhere, but all you saw was blackness. It sounded like it was coming from above. “God?” He’s real, after all?

God sounded very similar to the burnt asshole that attacked you. “That was easy. Why did he need us for this?”

The other voice that you still couldn’t attach a face to answered. “Giran does a lot for the League. It’s only fair that we do him the occasional favor, isn’t it? Her partner has already been taken care of.”

Well shit. Not only were you still alive, but you had been captured in some way to be delivered to him. You wanted to believe that you were in no serious danger, but no one sends two guys to break into your place and abduct you unless they had something sadistic in mind. Maybe your late partner was onto something this whole time.

The talking continued, but the sound was so faint. It’s like you were wearing a thick pair of earmuffs. This entire void, or whatever it is, was uncomfortable—the darkness seemed vast, yet it felt claustrophobic and heavy, like a powerful gravity preventing you from moving. What kind of quirk was this?

The mystery man was talking again. “Your arm is bleeding.”

“Oh right, she caught me with that little blade.” The burnt one said calmly. “It’s not that bad. My arms can’t feel much.”

“It’s not the pain I’m worried about; find something to wrap it up!” There was a sound that was difficult to discern, possibly a long sigh. “She made quite a scene at the window. I hope she didn’t bring any attention to us.”

You heard a grunt from the burnt one and could picture him shrugging. “If anyone asks, we’ll just say that she was a jumper and we stopped her.”

“…Who in the world tries to jump from only three stories?”

“A dumbass, and I’m pretty sure that’s what she is.”

The burnt guy can kiss your ass.

Their conversations were the only indication of time passing. Maybe you heard a few noises from whatever area they were currently in, such as a car passing by or a dog barking, but it was all too muffled to know for sure.

You hope you won’t be stuck in this prison for too long. The emptiness of it all was going to drive you insane. The abyss apparently sensed your distressed, shaping lights and colors all around and lifting the phantom weight off of you so quickly that you had to hold down a rush of bile in your throat.

It’s still fairly dark…a dimly lit room, no furniture, your knees on a hardwood floor, a figure sitting in front of you…

“Good morning.”

A greeting has never filled you with so much dread, uttered by a voice you haven’t heard in nearly two weeks.

The big-time broker himself was seated before you in a simple metal chair. When you met him in the bar to do business together, he had such a nonchalant aura around him, friendly yet detached. The smirk on his face seemed permanent, wearing it even now as he stared down at you, the little rat that has been hiding in the cracks of the city to avoid his sight. You didn’t feel threatened at all when you spoke in the bar; part of you knew that this man was in no way harmless, but he didn’t go out of his way to intimidate.

But now, even with the same relaxed posture and the same informal tone, his presence was sending strong chills down your spine with your brain screaming DANGER.

Giran leaned in, elbows resting on his thighs and a lit cigarette tucked between his fingers. The hanging bulbs illuminated only parts of his face, leaving the rest in a menacing shadow. “How have you been?”

You had no idea how to answer that. “F-fine?”

He gave a satisfied hum, as if he cared about your wellbeing. “That’s good to know. You’ve been hard to contact lately, so I had no idea.”

You swallowed, or at least you tried, but your throat was forgetting how to work properly. “I…” A cough escaped you. “I’ve been busy.”

His gruff chuckle unsettled you. “Of course. We’re all so busy these days, aren’t we? I’m not the type to stick my nose in others’ business, but may I ask what you’ve been so busy with? Hopefully something that involved gathering my money?” There it was.

Creating some more distance between your potential killer might help you think a little more clearly through the loud beating in your head, so you crawl backwards on shaky limbs like a drunk crab. “Y-yes! I’ve been doing my best, it’s just that I ran into a little problem an—” You bumped into something, turning your head to see a man looming over you. His attire was sharp, like that of a showman—even had a damn top hat. However, the mask he wore was rather ominous, the strange pattern resembling an abstract face. He didn’t budge when you had backed into his leg, only looking down at you as if you were a scared kitten.

In the corner of your vision you noticed the burnt one leaning back against the wall, watching you with disinterest. If it weren’t for the cold stare and the peril that he’s already put you through, you’d dare to admit that the greenish-blue hue of his eyes were kind of pretty.

“Don’t mind them,” Giran said with a lazy wave. “Those two are being kind enough to stick around in case I need them again. So, you were saying?”

You tried to recall where you were in your improvised excuse, and decided that you couldn’t risk having such a lie backfire. “I-I’m working on it. I have most of it so far. I just need a little more time.”

Giran’s face didn’t change. “And how much do you have?”

“Um…I…” What the hell do you say? Are you just digging yourself deeper? Is it possible to go any deeper? “Maybe I don’t have most, but I will soon so—”

“How much do you have?” It was firmer this time, making you shrink back. Dancing around his question wasn’t a good idea.

With a shaky breath, you answered quietly, “A hundred thousand yen.”

Giran placed the cigarette between his lips and took a long drag before blowing out a small cloud of toxic fumes. “A hundred thousand…of my three hundred thousand yen.”

Fuck, when he says it like that, maybe that is a lot of money to be missing out on.

You honestly wished he would show some sort of anger; his unwavering calmness was making you more anxious than any kind of rage.

“Can you tell me what you didn’t understand?” He asked.

“Huh? What…do you mean?” You couldn’t hold back the tremble in your voice.

“When we talked, I thought I made my measures clear. I give you the weapons, you pay me within the next five days. For every late day, I add more to what you already owe me. And if you take way too long, I’ll have to personally show you why you shouldn’t make deals where you can’t hold up your end.” He took another drag. You’re getting a feeling that the shrinking roll of tobacco is playing a big role in maintaining his leveled head. “Well, that all sounds clear to me, but there must be something in that explanation that didn’t get through to you, because you just ignored all of it.” Those final words were topped with a humorless laugh.

Just like that, every foolish decision you’ve made during the past week slams down on you. You were like a child that was confident they could escape whatever punishments were planned for them, now that they were finally caught, they just wanted to blubber endless apologies in hopes of being forgiven, and that’s exactly what you do. “Please, please just give me more time. I’m sorry. I just need another chance.”

Giran simply rests his head in one of his hands while pondering. “You know, this normally wouldn’t bother me. I consider myself an even-tempered guy. But you just had to go and run, avoiding my calls and hiding away for an entire week. If there’s anything that steams me up,” his brows furrowed, the first physical sign of anger that he’s shown. “It’s when an uncooperative client runs from me. Sorry about your friend, but I had to make sure I got my point across. Now it’s your turn.”

He reached into his violet jacket and pulled out a knife. Most of it was a large bulky handle, topped with a short but efficiently thin and curved blade. A wood carving knife.

As he rose from his chair and approached, you were suppressing the urge to just laugh at your own distress, a habit of yours that has caused more than one misunderstanding in the past.

“Compress, if you will.” Giran’s hand beckoned you upwards.

The man still behind you, apparently named Compress, locked both of your wrists at your back before pulling you up on your feet. “Hey-I-Wha-Wait a minute! We can talk! I can fix this!” You stuttered in pure desperation. Giran was poking at the tip of the knife and testing its sharpness, paying no attention to your pleas.

“It’s a shame, really. I happen to have one major weakness,” he admitted while inspecting his pricked finger. “Women. I’m always going easy on them—giving them more chances than they deserve. I can’t help it.” He grips your cheeks roughly, making you squeak. “And it really breaks my heart that I have to ruin such a pretty lady.”

“You don’t have to.” Your squished puckered lips sputter out, making you look and sound ridiculous. “Maybe I cou—"

The knife hovering so close to your face silences you. “Where should I start?” He wondered. You hold as still as possible while the sharp metal lingers dangerously close to your eye. “Maybe I should take out an eye? Maybe both?” His grip on your face prevents you from turning away, so you shut your eyes instead, accidentally releasing the tears that have been gathering in the corners. You feel his hand lower to hold your chin so that he can press the blade against the side of your face, so close to breaking skin. “Or maybe I’ll carve out your cheeks?” A thumb brushes against your lips and pushes past them. “You are quite a talker. Maybe I ought to go in there and remove that tongue.”

Your eyes remain closed, trying to focus on something else. The full-body tremors that you couldn’t stop, the press of Compress’s body against your back as he held onto your wrists, anything but the deadly blade trailing across your flesh. Every time the cruel man applied pressure, you braced yourself for the pain of cold steel cutting into you like fresh produce, but he would always pull back. It was pure torture and he hasn’t even harmed you yet.

“Hmm, you really are a cute one,” you heard him murmur as the knife trailed down your neck and across your collar. “Do I really want to carve such pretty skin?”

There was a loud groan, prompting your eyes to open and look to the burnt one who left his post at the wall. “For fuck’s sake, old man. How about I handle this so you don’t have to play mental tug-o-war with yourself?”

Giran didn’t seem fazed by the crude way he was addressed. “Oh? What did you have in mind, Dabi?”

Dabi gave an evil smirk of his own as he walked over. “I wonder how badly I can burn a person without killing them.” A scarred hand was placed on your shoulder and you squirmed at the rising heat. “Maybe we can find out together. How about it, girlie?”

You felt the other man behind you shake with a soft laugh. “So cruel, Dabi. I’m a gentleman myself. I could help, but taking a limb or two from such a beauty would be an unforgivable crime.” The implication of what he could do with his quirk made you fear for your arms that were still in his grasp.

“Great. Chivalry isn’t dead in the world of villains.” Dabi rolled his eyes. “You’re not wrong, though. She doesn’t look bad.”

There were too many hands on you. A rough aged hand caressed your throat and jaw, a gloved hand was tenderly running through your hair, and burned ones were shamelessly groping your chest and squishing your breasts. “Stop! What do you think you’re doing?”

“Shut it.” Dabi snapped, not letting up his assault. “Burning you might be a waste. Maybe I should just fuck you instead.”

Your stomach twisted in disgust at the very thought. The other two men pulled back and stilled at the suggestion. This nasty motherfucker wishes he’d get some. At least there were more reasonable voices in the room to keep the sicko away.

“Well now, that’s not a bad idea.” Giran declared with a nod of approval.

‘Ex-fucking-scuse me?’

Compress gave your shoulder a suggestive squeeze. “A vulgar way of putting it, but it’s an idea I can get behind.”

“Then it looks like we’ve all come to a new agreement.” The sleazebag exhaled smoke right into your face, stinging your already watery eyes and forcing several coughs out of you. “I hope you’re alright with that, darling.”

You shook your head fast enough to disorient yourself. “No! This is sick! Get your hands off me!”

“No good, huh? You think I should stick to the original plan?” Dabi dared you with a dazzling blue flame appearing in his palm. The memory of his scorching touch had you freezing up. “I’m just kidding, I don’t give a shit if you want this or not. This ain’t a friendly hookup.”

Compress leaned into your ear, voice sounding horribly close even with the mask protecting you from his lips. “I’m going to let you go now, and you’re going to cooperate with us, right? Surely you know how outmatched you are.”

Yes, you knew, yet there’s a little voice strongly urging you to fight and attempt an escape anyway. But you knew that will only end in pain and possibly death, and even though you were dreading what they had planned for you, the pitiful survivor in you is willing to sacrifice your dignity to stay alive. And so, you nodded.

“Very good,” you heard the smile in his praise. Your tender wrists were released so that he could take the hem of your shirt and slowly begin to pull it up. Your arms remained stiffly at your sides, the oppressive air around the three dangerous villains suffocating and leaving you light-headed.

“Cooperation, remember?” Compress reminded you.

With a hitched breath, you raised your arms, allowing him to peel the shirt off and throw it aside. Dabi wasted no time in exploring your newly revealed skin, while the gloved hands moved on to work at your bra and Giran undid your pants. You try to keep your breathing steady as you’re stripped, even when your pants fall down to your ankles. The second your bra is unclasped, you move to cover your freed breasts, only for the scarred bastard to slap your arms away.

“Quit it, I’m trying to feel you up,” He wasn’t very gentle in handling you, and his texture was so strange, wrinkled skin and the staples keeping him together scraping across your mounds. While he ventured lower, the other two men took their turn with your feminine assets.

Giran was fondling you slowly, but he seemed to be paying much more attention to your face, the face that you were having a very hard time keeping blank while Compress was massaging your other breast way too tenderly. It would help to shut your eyes once again, but that only enhances their touches, sparking goosebumps all over and threatening to pull a moan from your throat. You chose to look to the side and hide away from the broker’s dull gaze, but there was no avoiding Dabi’s hand palming your clothed sex, making you yelp. “AH! Don’t! You can’t just—”

He squeezed you down there, sending a foreign buzz through your abdomen. “What the hell did I just say?” He scolded. “I think I know how to shut you up.”

Giran made an amused hum. “Well Dabi, given you were the one who suggested this, I’ll grant you the honor of teaching her a lesson first.”

Your stomach dropped at the rough lips parting into a toothy grin. “You’re too kind.”

“Just don’t ruin her too quickly, alright?” Compress urged him before patting your back and stepping away. Giran also turned away and returned to his chair, leaning back with one leg crossing over the other.

The only one holding you now was the fiery villain; it had you sweating profusely even without the use of his quirk.

“Now, on your knees,” he ordered and pushed down onto your shoulders, forcing you to kneel. Your chest was tightening painfully when he unbuckled his belt to draw his half-hard cock. It wasn’t exactly any comfort, but it was wholly intact unlike the rest of him. “Start sucking.”

You kept your lips sealed and shook your head, only to have your hair grabbed and yanked back. Your pained cry was all he needed to shove his meat into your mouth. Your shout changed into a gag from the fleshy intrusion.

“Sweetheart,” the pet name was uttered with a mocking venom. “I’m trying to give you the benefit of a doubt and believe that you don’t have the memory of a dead goldfish, but in case you do, let me remind you that we brought you here to hurt you.” That dreaded heat was back, his hand threatening to call those blue flames and set your hair ablaze. “So which would you rather deal with: being carved and burned into a bloody mess, or having to please a couple of dicks? Doesn’t the latter sound more bearable?”

You couldn’t pull back to answer, his hold on your head tight and unyielding, so you nodded.

But for some reason, that didn’t satisfy him. “I need you say it. Come on, you can do it.”

‘No I can’t, you overcooked motherfucker! What do you want from me?’ Having no idea what to do but also not wanting to try his patience any further, you worked your voice around the thick rod and managed a choked and barely comprehensible “mmyeff.”

The sloshed word made Dabi laugh and you felt him twitch on your tongue. “Cute. That’s good enough. Now put that mouth to work so I won’t have to turn your head into a torch.”

Admitting defeat, you moved your head to take in more of his growing erection, wriggling your tongue in a poor attempt to get away from his salty taste, only to stimulate him in the process. You feel him respond with shaky breaths, but the fact that you’re servicing this terrible man doesn’t make you want to try any harder.

Dabi realizes your slow pace isn’t changing and his grumpiness quickly returns. “Oh come on, put a little more energy into it. A quirkless bitch living in the worst part of town, this can’t be the first time you’ve had to suck dick to save your life.” You look up and glare at him, which didn’t do much to intimidate when you were blowing him at the same time. He only smirked. “If you don’t pick up the pace, then I’ll have to take charge, and I don’t think you’d want that.”

You push yourself to put in more effort, taking in more of his now fully swollen cock and gagging pathetically. Despite what the singed shithead had guessed, you weren’t experienced with this. Your sex life boils down to a couple of hookups. This hectic existence with its cast of untrustworty characters wasn’t suitable for any kind of serious relationship, and sexual favors were something you tried to avoid as much as possible. Those rare nights with a partner were nothing like this, and you sure as hell would never ask for a fucking audience. A wisp of smoke nearby reminded you of Giran’s presence.

The sick broker was just sitting and watching with interest, his smirk still present. He seemed satisfied with just watching you in this humiliating state. Compress stood out of sight, but he was most likely doing the same. It made you just want to curl up and hide from these hungry eyes.

You heard a tired sigh over you as Dabi adjusted his grip and was now holding both sides of your face.There was no warning when he thrusted forward to jam himself into the back of your throat, the sting making your eyes well up.

“Sorry, but I think I’ve given you enough chances,” Dabi panted while reveling in the feel of your mouth all around him. His cock slid back and allowed you to breathe for just a second or two before plunging back in.

Breathing through your nose was the only option as he pumped in and out of your throat with little restraint. You gurgled helplessly and tried to push at his thighs to keep him from going so deep, but that only made him chuckle and fuck your mouth more roughly. He was in complete control now, so all you could do was take it as best as you could. Saliva gathered as your throat was violated, some of it oozing past your lips and running down your chin.

“Look at you, turning into a drooling mess for my cock. You like having your mouth fucked just like a pussy?” Demeaning words were spoken between his grunts, commenting on the depraved state of your face—you could only imagine how you looked at the moment with your extra lubricated mouth allowing him to move in and out more easily.

The erratic slams of his hips against your face signaled that this torture will be ending soon, as long as you could endure the assault on your windpipe that was making you dizzy. Any cry of distress or plea to slow down was reduced to wet gurgles and more spit bubbling from your mouth. With a teeth-clenched growl, Dabi presses your face flush against his pelvis, engulfed by his musky scent as cum shoots straight down your throat. Black spots were appearing in your vision with both your nose and throat blocked. ‘Can’t breathe…can’t…’

“Hang in there, just need to make sure you swallow every last drop.” He keeps your head locked in place so that you could feel every spasm as he feeds you his seed. Finally, he releases you and steps back, allowing oxygen to rush into your lungs as you coughed and wheezed.

“Whoops, maybe I went a little overboard,” Dabi joked at your shaking form that was hunched over hacking up a mixture of saliva and semen. That fucking bastard…

“You think?” A sarcastic remark sounded from an approaching presence behind you. Compress kneels beside you, placing a hand on your back as your coughing fit slowly died down. “That’s not my ideal way of punishing a lady. Wouldn’t you agree, Giran?”

You didn’t have the strength to look at said man and the amused expression that he was undoubtedly wearing. “I’m not picky myself. It was a good show,” you heard him say. You can physically feel your dignity leaving you.

“Well, I can give you a better one.” The phony gentleman grabbed and straightened you up. You noticed that he had removed his hat, his head concealed by what may be a ski mask. It was strangely symbolic—beneath all of that pizzazz was just another unforgiving criminal. “Dabi certainly did a number on you, didn’t he?” He observed, fingers tracing over your chest and the drying drool that had trailed down. You heard a “damn right” from Dabi who had returned to his spot at the wall. “Don’t worry, darling. I won’t leave you so roughed up.”

His words did nothing to alleviate the growing fear as his hand wandered down to your panties, fingers pressing against the damp cloth. “Oh my…and here I was thinking he was being too hard on you. Looks like you didn’t hate it as much as I thought.”

You shuddered at the small chorus of laughter from all three men. Dabi took the opportunity to taunt you again. “I had a feeling she was the type that loves being treated like a hole. The bitch probably would have gotten off if I went a little longer, not that she deserves to.”

“Ah, but I think she does. In fact,” Compress pulled the underwear to the side and touched your slick directly, making you gasp. “I’d say she deserves more than she can handle.”

“N…St…op…” Your voice was hoarse from the abuse your throat had gone through. His fingers began soft strokes against your glistening folds, a feeling that wasn’t unpleasant, but you held back your whimpers to avoid both the vocal strain and giving him any gratification.

The gloved digits moved skillfully across your sensitive lips, kindling a hot desire deep inside of you. No, you really didn’t want to be feeling that from him. Your own hands curl into fists when you feel him prod at your opening, just barely penetrating you and making you bite your lip in a painful effort to suppress a moan.

He looks right at you; you can only guess what face he was making. “Trying not to make any noise, are you?” His free hand removed the patterned mask, revealing chocolate eyes and a smile that wasn’t at all sweet. “I sure do love a challenge. Then again, I already know that I’ll win.”

Any retort you had prepared died on your lips when two fingers slipped into your heat, unable to hold back your whimper even with your mouth closed. “There it is,” he purred close to your face. “But I think we can do better.”

Your cunt throbbed with each brush against your walls. He couldn’t go too deep in your current position, but that didn’t deter him as he pistoned in and out, flexing his fingers every which way until he found that forbidden spot that made you wail. The white hot heat was threatening to smother you completely. You found yourself grasping his arm and weakly pushing at it, silently begging to make it stop before you burst.

‘Don’t look ahead…Giran is watching…don’t look ahead…’ The mantra repeated in your head, echoing loudly to distract you from the unstable knot in your core. The inner chant was to no avail—several hard presses against your nerves had you crumbling beneath the searing heat of your climax. With no restraint remaining, your broken whines rushed out of your convulsing body and echoed through the room. A thumb circles your clit and prolongs the all-powerful sensation.

“Try to bear it, darling.” Compress says to you, but his voice sounds so far away, drowned out by the vibrations starting from your pussy and spreading all over, engulfing you. Even after your orgasm passes, the assault on your sensitive womanhood doesn’t stop, the sensations becoming painful. You would have fallen over if Compress wasn’t holding you, his arm wrapped around you in an insultingly affectionate embrace as he continued to overstimulate you. The words falling from your lips were weak and incoherent, the occasional ‘no’ and ‘too much’ being heard.

Sobbing in the villain’s shoulders, you can make out the blurred violet figure in your foggy vision, still lounging and taking silent delight in your struggles. You just barely noticed the slight curve of his lips as Compress forced you to cum again, pitting your muscles against another wave of excruciating spasms. This time he did let you collapse, your body sprawled out on the floor as your walls continued to clench.

“Hmmph, not bad.” Dabi can be heard, and his voice alone makes your throat burn again.

Compress was still close, curiously squishing your juices between his fingers. “I could have gone for longer, but she still needs energy for the main act.”

You hear a dark laugh from Giran. “So generous of you Compress. What would I do without you gentlemen? Just do me one more favor and remove the rest of your clothes.”

“Of course,” the showman moved over to fully strip you. You stayed limp as he pulled your drenched panties down along with your pants that were still hanging at your feet, then moving on to remove your shoes. You were now completely bare, body shivering despite the warm still air of the room.

“Alright, miss. That’s enough rest. Time to get up and come over here.” Giran orders coolly. There was no urgency in his voice, but you knew you shouldn’t keep him waiting. If only your entire lower body wasn’t screaming. Compress sensed your plight and took hold of your waist, prepared to pull you up.

“No no,” Giran held up a hand while stomping out his cigarette. “She’s a big girl and can stand on her own.”

Compress simply shrugged and retreated, leaving you to force your aching arms and legs to move and lift you up.

Even after being violated, you still couldn’t resist covering your chest and mound as you slowly approached the man that you deeply regret ever getting involved with. You tried to ignore how gross your body felt—the salty fleshy taste lingering on your tongue, the wetness that continued to run down your legs, your bare feet shuffling across the old dusty floor. There was a prominent bulge in his pants, revealing just how much this was all exciting him.

“Sit down and have a ride on me.” It was said so casually that you needed a moment to comprehend.

Dabi barked impatiently. “Hey, don’t just stand there like a modest statue.”

Realizing that Giran isn’t going to take out his erection himself, you lean in to open up his pants, fighting every urge to pull your hands away as they work at the buttons and zipper, pulling down his underwear to watch his cock spring out. He didn’t seem to react, only watching your face like he has been since you’ve been tossed into this damned place. You stare at his waiting dick until you accept that you have to get closer, standing over his legs before lowering yourself down onto his lap. You have to grab the soft yet firm organ to keep it in place as it touches your opening.

He was so close, smoke-scented breath hitting your skin. There was no way to avoid his gaze at this proximity. He was free to see all of the shameful details on your tear-stained face.

It pains you to admit that Compress’s fingers made the stretch more bearable as Giran’s head pushes into your cavern that was still sensitive from the previous man’s onslaught. You had to place your hands on his shoulders to balance yourself as your hips sunk down on him, breaths shallow throughout your poor attempt to stay relaxed and not tighten up. Several inches later, you had him fully sheathed inside you.

“Good. Very good.” His voice was low and rugged, eyes closing briefly so that he can take in your surrounding heat. “Now start moving. I didn’t bring you over just to keep me warm.”

You didn’t have enough pride left to protest, so you did as instructed, slowly lifting your hips before bringing them back down, ignoring the strain put on your thighs. Giran placed a hand on your ass, the contact making your pace falter for just a second. He looked so at ease as you bounced on him that you wondered, if it was just the two of you, perhaps you could have taken this as an opportunity to attack. But in the current situation, it would only lead to certain death. The thought leaves your mind as quickly as it came.

“Three days.” The two words cut through your weary breaths and the squelch of your pussy. You give Giran a look of confusion before he specifies. “I’m giving you three more days to collect the money.”

The news surprises you enough to halt your hips, an action he doesn’t approve of.

“I didn’t say stop.” The warning in his tone had you instantly moving again. He lightened at your compliance; he sure knew how to flip his friendly mode on and off like a damn light switch. “Very good. I’m trying to show you some more mercy here. Don’t ruin it for yourself. Anyway, you need to hurry and do whatever you can to get that money. Steal, call some old friends, maybe sell your body? I don’t think you’d be half-bad at that.” He gave your rear a light smack, making your walls squeeze him in shock. “If you don’t have enough by the time we meet again, your lovely body won’t stop me from peeling your skin off a second time. Are we clear, sweetheart?”

The fear from his threat grips your chest as you keep trying to please him, moving in a way that keeps his dick away from your g-spot. “Yes,” you whimper through your pants.

Giran caught on to what you were doing. “I’m not convinced.” Both of his hands take hold of your hips and push you down, forcing stimulation on your hypersensitive bundle of nerves. A scream rips through your burning throat. “I’ll say it again: Are we clear?”

“Yes!” Your voice cracks and tears are flowing down your face once again.

“You won’t run from me again?”

“No! I swear I won’t!”

“Good girl.” He was the one setting the pace at this point, forcing you up and down in pursuit of his release. There was another agonizing orgasm growing in your abdomen, but the hands controlling your movements weren’t giving you a chance to escape the inevitable storm.

The final slam collides his throbbing cock with your cervix, and the pained pleasure has you quivering in his hold, crinkling his shirt with your white-knuckled grip as you cried out from every foul spurt into your womb. His soft groans were heated against your neck.

His pats of approval on your back are enough to push your worn figure into his chest. He chuckles and rubs you like a lover that didn’t just force you into the most disgraceful moment of your life. “I’m glad we could come to an agreement.”

Despite your limbs feeling like pure lead, you wanted to get off this man as soon as possible. “Please just let me go.”

His smile filled you with a fresh wave of dread. “Soon, darling. But I need to make sure I’ve made my point. I think the other two gentlemen would appreciate a turn.”

You heard the quick footsteps before he even finished, scarred hands grabbing and pulling you off of Giran’s softening cock. Fuck, the two had been so quiet for the past moment that you forgot about their presence.

You jolt at the feel of Dabi’s revived hard-on pressing against your back while Compress stops right in front of you, his own length bobbing freely. You flinched at the damp gloves caressing your chin and lips. “Are you ready to return the favor? Don’t worry, I won’t treat your mouth as badly as Dabi did.”

“Sadly,” The crueler man behind you added before pressing down and bending you forward, your head now leveled with Compress’s waiting dick.

“Open up for me,” he orders with a hand resting in your hair. Your jaw still ached from the last cock in your mouth; you hoped that he truly was going to at least be more gentle as you parted your lips and took him in.

Dabi rubbed up and down your spine as he watched. “Well look at you, such an obedient little bitch now.” He began to knead your ass cheeks before spreading them, your body tensing in fear as a finger toyed with your back entrance.

“I’m not a fan of sloppy seconds, guess I’ll have to take another hole.” It was the only warning he gave before his thickness was pushing forcefully into your unprepared ass. The searing pain was as intense as his quirk, your muffled shrieks vibrating against Compress and making him moan. Dabi smiled at your suffering. “Can’t complain, ‘cause this sounds a lot better. Hope I don’t do too much damage in there.”

He fucked you as hard and fast as your tight passage would allow, pushing the other villain’s dick further into your throat with each thrust.

Soon, they will switch places. And then they will take you separately. And Giran will stay seated, taking pleasure in watching you break.

Your mind eventually wanders to what will happen afterwards, if there is any possible way to right the biggest wrong you’ve ever committed…or if you simply had three days left to live.

It feels like luck is done saving you.

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tagging @mothwithteeth because their thirst for Giran inspired me. Go check them and their awesome work out!

#bnha #smut #dabi #giran #mr. compress #dabi x reader #giran x reader #mr. compress x reader #tw noncon #tw death

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howtowhumpyourhiccup · 3 years

Text

Winter Whumperland Day 8: Lucky

Summary: Written for Winter Whumperland Day 8. Set in a Modern AU, follows up on Day 7 'Delirium'. There was the chance meeting in that coffee shop, but it is one late evening in early June that Hiccup's life takes a sudden turn for the worse.

Rating: Mature

Characters: Hiccup, Astrid, Snotlout, Toothless, Ryker, Viggo

Pairing: Vigcup, past-Hiccstrid

Words: 4 464

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: “Obsessive whumper”

Whumpee: Hiccup (and Toothless in a way)

Author’s Notes: This was supposed to be up already, but I got very distracted by Attack on Titan. I finished my rewatch and I had 3 episodes of season 4 that I needed to catch up on and then I got very distracted by the reactors I follow that I know watch this show, too.

Constructive criticism is appreciated! Including on the tags!

Enjoy!

Ao3

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There was the chance meeting in that coffee shop, but it is one late evening in early June that Hiccup's life takes a sudden turn for the worse.

It's late when he returns home from work. He's completely drained after being on his feet all day and when he steps in through the front door, what he longs for most is to kick off his shoes and prosthetic and crash onto the couch.

Someone has other ideas, as he can tell by the stomping footsteps coming up from behind him as he closes the front door.

They halt, one slipper tapping impatiently on the carpeted floor, and Hiccup knows he's in trouble. He slowly turns to see one furious Astrid Hofferson.

She'd come the second she heard the door open and she'd jumped off the couch to catch him and block his way to the living room. Her blonde hair is undone and lays comfortably on her shoulder.

"Uh, good evening? Milady?" He greets her hesitantly, deciding that a polite approach is probably a better idea than a sassy one.

"What took you so long? You were supposed to clock out two hours ago!" Astrid crosses her arms, a hip out, and awaits a good excuse. He hasn't even called her to let her know that he would be later or anything!

Hiccup puffs out a nervous breath as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, unsure what to tell her. Upon seeing this, Astrid lets out an agitated sigh, reeling with her boyfriend's thoughtless decision-making.

"Viggo again?" She asks with a hard tone and he knows there is no denying it. Besides, she'd know if he was lying. So he nods honestly instead and she's already throwing her hands up.

"He came by at the coffee shop for a game of chess and I thought I'd entertain him for a little while!" Hiccup hurriedly replies, already imagining Astrid's disappointment in him.

"For two whole hours?!" Her voice raises, she's not too impressed.

"Ugh, yeah..."

"Hiccup, I can't believe you!" She expresses her disbelief before turning on her heels to return to the living room.

"He's obviously a lonely man, Astrid! He just wants some company and a listening ear once in a while!" He tries to reason with her as he follows her to the other room, where Snotlout is sitting on the couch.

Viggo just comes across as a lonely man to him. No partner, no kids, no friends outside of business, and a brother he rarely sees eye to eye with. It makes him want to take at least a few minutes out of his time to spend on him.

"Once in a while, he comes by almost every day, Hiccup! Today, he swallowed up two hours of your time! And after work, too!" Halting before the television, Astrid spins on her heels again to face Hiccup. "Hiccup Haddock, I know you're not a pushover, but somehow this guy gets you to let him walk all over you."

Snotlout should be annoyed that he can no longer watch the tv, the bickering couple interrupting his watch, but that matters little to him

"Heh, Viggo again, Hiccup?" He asks, finding amusement in that fact.

"You know, Hiccup, if you'd rather spend time with some lonely middle-aged dude then your own girlfriend, maybe you should go hook up with him. We'll question your kinks and tastes, though." He adds with a chuckle.

"Not funny, Snot." The couple tells him and Hiccup sighs afterward, awkwardly moving from one foot to another once more. He's tired and his leg hurts and he doesn't like fighting with Astrid. And to make matters worse, he has some news, too. It's not bad news, but he wonders if it'll be received well after Astrid's reaction.

She stands there, fuming, and she probably has plenty of reason to be. His not calling her to let her know where he's at, spending his after work hours with someone who is a virtual stranger to her, who is a creep in her eyes, pushing his own needs aside for someone who clearly has no eye out for his, ... Yup, plenty of reasons. And he might just be about to make it worse.

"Also... I won't be able to sleep here tonight." But it's better to just come out and sat it, so he tells her, his arms crossing.

"And why is that?" Astrid asks, not too pleased. It's Friday evening, she'd hoped to spend at least a little bit of time with him. You know, the time Viggo hasn't selfishly taken for himself yet.

"Well, Toothless came to find me again. I saw him sitting on the rooftop when I got back and... Well, see for yourself." Hiccup gestures towards a rather large window on one side of the room and Snotlout and Astrid look over to find the Night Fury there, watching them through the glass. He's sitting on the fire escape and looks very much like a cat expecting to be let in.

Finally seen, he yowls, wondering what's taking them so long. Hiccup has known all along that he's there, why is he making him wait?

"Oh, the neighbors are going to love this." Astrid groans, cringing at the sound. Snotlout covers his ears.

"Oh, I'm sure they will, which is why I'm dropping off my uniform and going back downstairs to meet him. I'll fly him back to the sanctuary and spent the night at my mom's because I'm-"

"Dead tired from all the work you've done? With a prosthetic?" Astrid cuts him off as she finishes his sentence for him. It's not like she thinks he can't do the same work someone else can, but Hiccup's reality is that standing on his feet all day will make him more exhausted than it would make an abled person. Astrid is aware of this, she just wishes Hiccup would be a little more self-aware from time to time.

Mouth still open, Hiccup stares at her for a moment.

"Uh, yeah, that. But anyway, I'll let you know in the morning if I'll be back tomorrow or Sunday evening." He lets her and Snotlout know before heading over to the bedroom he shares with Astrid.

He's been holding the uniform in his hands. It consists of a dark brown apron and a little hat that feels like paper, though they're all pretty sure it's not made out of paper. He hangs them both up on the coatrack hanging from their bedroom door.

When he comes back into the living room, Astrid is standing before him again.

"Okay, but I doubt he brought a saddle, so will you at least be careful?" She asks of him, still exasperated, but him spending time with Toothless is far better than the alternative, which is the middle-aged man seemingly clinging to a young adult. A young adult who isn't quite 20 yet, no less.

"Of course, Milady, when am I not?" Hiccup asks her with a smile, feeling like they are on slightly better terms now. He'll make it up to her somehow, he doesn't want her feeling like she comes second to some guy he's only known for a few weeks.

Sighing deeply, Astrid comes over and plants her lips on his for a kiss. They don't have any space in their home for a dragon as big as a Night Fury. So, unfortunately, she has no other choice but to let him go. Hiccup returns it wholeheartedly, heart skipping a beat in joy. When does she not make him happy?

When they pull away, Astrid pulls on his hoodie, straightening it out.

"Are you sure that's warm enough for the trip?" She asks him, knowing he gets cold easily. He's about the only person she knows who can still wear long sleeves in the summer. The amount of layers this man needs to get through the colder months is insane.

"I think I'll manage."

"That's not a good answer, Haddock, and you know that."

Snotlout groans in the background at seeing the affection, head rolling back, but they mostly ignore him. So he groans louder on purpose.

"How can I stand living with you two?" He questions when they look over, neither too happy with his interruption.

Toothless yowls again outside and someone shouts at "the big cat" to be quiet.

"Geez, impatient much?" Hiccup mutters under his breath and gestures to his dragon to get down from the fire escape. He should get going before Toothless gets them all kicked out of here.

"Again, be careful. And oh, don't forget to call when you arrive and tell your mom we said "hi"." Astrid quickly says as Hiccup heads for the door.

"I will! I'll see you guys later, Snotlout, Milady." At that last one, he shoots Astrid a quick smile.

Snotlout lets his head roll back again and-

"If you groan one more time, it's off to bed with you."

It takes a quick ride on the elevator down, but Hiccup is outside soon enough. It's summer and that means the air is cooler then it is during the day, but not quite cool enough. Even so, Hiccup pulls on his hoodie to cover as much of his collarbone and neck as it can before he looks up towards the top of the building.

"Bud?!" He calls out excitedly, expecting to be tackled by a dragon much bigger and much heavier than him in the next few seconds. He's bracing himself, it could come from any direction...

But instead, there is no response.

Strange.

"Bud!" Hiccup calls out again, didn't he hear him the first time? Dragons of his kind usually have a good hearing. Or he ignoring his calls? Making him wait because it's been so long since he's come by for a visit? He hates admitting it, but work has been kicking his ass. It's hard to do anything on most days and even during most weekends he finds himself in need of the mere two days of rest he can get.

"It's because you haven't worked a day in your life, son, you'll get used to it." Hiccup can hear his father say in his head and he can still feel the need to roll his eyes. He's worked! At the sanctuary and only what he was allowed to do, but he's done stuff before!

"Toothless?!" Moving from the sidewalk to between two parked cars to hopefully get a better view of the roof, Hiccup tries again, but gets no answer this time either. He was hoping to at least see some earfins pop up by now.

"Really, Toothless? Is this the time to play hide and seek?" Hiccup mutters to himself. He knows his dragon misses him terribly when they're not together, he misses him, too, but now's not the time. He's tired and he would like to fly back to the sanctuary already.

Checking the road behind him and finding the street empty for the moment, Hiccup cautiously takes another step or two back. In this part of the city, people usually don't drive as fast as they can in the busier parts. And at this hour, not too many cars come by either.

"Toothless, seriously?!" He calls up again, keeping a careful eye and ear out on either side of him. Don't tell him he's stuck on the fire escape again.

"Are you stuck?! Do I need to come get you?!" Hiccup asks, never losing sight of the street he's on. It's still quiet so far, no approaching lights, no roaring engines.

Finally, Toothless calls back to him and the call sounds far, so he must still be in the fire escape after all. Sighing, Hiccup figures he may as well look.

It's at that moment, probably by pure dumb luck, that a dark car with no plates and tinted windows comes speeding from around the corner.

Driving at speeds way, way above the limit, the car can't possibly be avoided. Hiccup sees it coming, has only seconds to stare into the blinding headlights as they come too fast, and there's nothing he can do but get hit.

The front of the vehicle hits his right side with full force first and he ends up on the hood for a brief moment. It all happens so fast, before long he rolls onto the pavement and is left to lie there on the ground. The collision broke some of his ribs, hurt his hip, dislocated his bad knee, bruised his wrists, scraped him all over, and he'll be a lucky man if that is all a hit from such speeds leaves him with.

Body hurting and unable to move, all Hiccup can do is groan. He can't get up like this. Who and why would just run him over like this? His head hurts, he must've knocked it on the ground.

After the hit, the car screeches to a halt and a man steps out. When he comes over, Hiccup can't see who it is, can barely turn his head to the approaching footsteps. When he tries, another pained groan leaves him. He can taste the metallic tang of blood on his tongue.

Everything is too much for his aching head, too much to process. He's on the verge of passing out, it's becoming black before his eyes.

The man who mowed him down stands over him. Hiccup can't see his face, but if he could, he'd see the satisfied look of another job well done. He's grabbed by his arms and pulled towards the car. Hiccup cringes at the unnecessary additional abuse his body must endure.

"W-wait... What're you... Why?" He can't struggle against him, can't keep the man from dragging him towards the car, it's taking him everything not to pass out.

When they reach the car, the trunk is opened and Hiccup is picked up and unceremoniously dropped inside. His body is in agony and he would've shouted if his ribs allowed it, but his apparent kidnapper doesn't seem to care much. If anything, he huffs and the trunk closes, bathing Hiccup in darkness.

What just happened to him? For whatever reason, whether it be the shock or the pain, he still can't move.

While this is happening, Toothless is, indeed, stuck. A fire escape isn't meant for dragons, let alone a dragon his size, nothing in a city is. This is a place for humans, which is why he thought to drag Hiccup back home himself. He wasn't coming of his own volition, so Toothless had to come and see what was taking him so long. But when he gets up to meet with his friend, he finds his tail to be stuck in the railing.

It's a hindrance and it's more annoying than a real problem. He can solve this without needing Hiccup's help, he just needs to be careful not to damage the replacement tailfin he so carefully crafted for him.

Murring impatiently as he tries to find the right angle to do this from, Astrid and Snotlout are watching him from the window, both concerned. From the corner of his eyes, he can see Astrid mouth something and she's gesturing in a way that's supposed to be helping him, but he doesn't quite get it. He's only half-looking, too.

On the other side of the building, Hiccup is calling for him and Toothless calls back once to tell him he's still coming. He just needs to be a little more patient and then he'll be there.

But then he hears a screeching that sounds like a noise one of those large metal contraptions the humans ride on would make. It's an awful sound to his ears, but not as alarming as the noise of a heavy thing hitting something not even a quarter of that thing's weight. And all of that is followed by a noise of pain Toothless is all too familiar with.

Was that Hiccup? Is someone hurting him?

Toothless knows that he needs to see what's happening and he all but tears himself free, the carefully refined leather hooking onto something metal sticking out and ripping. He hurries up the rest of the fire escape up on the roof, climbing the outside expertly like only a cat of his size and strength can, he'll be able to see more from there.

A disability has only affected his speed and agility so much, Hiccup can largely be thanked for that. As someone who is missing a leg, he knows a thing or two about loss. He reaches the roof quickly and he thinks to check the front of the building first, where the noises came from. What he sees confuses him, however.

There's a human male taking his friend and putting him in the back of that metal deathtrap.

His knowledge of humans and their strange behaviors only goes so far and he doesn't know what the intention here is, just that he doesn't like it. This screams "bad" to him and he growls in anger, claws scraping on the bricked walls. Someone is taking his rider away.

The male then gets into the "car", as they're called, and he can hear it revving to life. That's when Toothless knows it's now or never.

He's a Night Fury, leaping off tall things isn't anything new to him, so he takes a chance. He doesn't yet realize that his prosthetic tailfin is torn and that it will hinder him greatly in his pursuit. He wants to land on the vehicle itself, scare the driver, rip him out, and then get Hiccup out. His mate and that small friend of his are in their communal den. If he's loud enough, he can get them to come down and see. In the meantime, he can make sure the bigger male can't touch the car again and that he's too incapacitated to get away, too.

That's the plan, thought up in a matter of a second or two and he commits to it, he takes the leap. Except with a rip in his tailfin and the car moving away at the same time, all Toothless manages to do is scratch up the back and take the rear bumper right off.

Inside the trunk, Hiccup is almost startled to full alertness with his dragon's claws scraping above him and taking a part of the vehicle with him. There's a man's muffled cursing and what a mouth he has on him.

It takes Toothless a second too long to realize that he's holding just a piece of the car instead of the whole thing.

Did he just fail? A Night Fury isn't supposed to fail, if anything, they're supposed to be the pride of dragons! And he just failed his human?

He looks behind him, sees the tear in the cloth Hiccup made for him. He's lost his advantage and now he can't fly after the car either! He wished he'd jumped on time instead of too late, wished he'd thought to jump in front of it, too! If he'd just aimed right, he would've landed on the car instead of just snatching the rear bumper.

All that's left for him now is to chase. He's still plenty fast on the ground, he can leap, he'll find some other way to stop the damn thing. A plasma blast will land him in serious trouble, but that's not even high on the number of things he's willing to do to get Hiccup back.

They're not far, he can still see them.

But then another car comes from around the corner. They aren't driving particularly fast, but finding a dragon in your path is a startling thing and Toothless is startled in return. They almost block his path, nearly driving into the car parked nearby. Then a second comes and a third and they all screech to a halt, honking and yelling in surprise. They do nothing but hinder him in a city that's already too loud and unwelcoming and chaotic for a dragon.

Toothless has to evade them, doing whatever he can to just not get accidentally hit as he chases after his friend. He jumps onto a parked car, trying to spot the one that took Hiccup.

It's nowhere to be found.

Hiccup can hear it as he slips away, the miserable cries of a dragon in distress with cars honking in the distance, both deafeningly loud.

"I'm here, Bud, I'm... I'm here..." His words of reassurance fade as he falls unconscious, losing the fight to stay awake.

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Pain. That's what Hiccup wakes up to hours later. An immeasurable amount of pain and the inability to breathe properly as his ribs are keeping him from it.

He groans miserably, feeling awful after someone came speeding down a relatively calm street to run him over. His head is a little slow in catching up on the events that landed him in this situation, but his body has a great memory. He hurts so much, there isn't a part of him that isn't in agony.

There are voices and an unfamiliar hand lays itself on his forehead. Is he in the hospital? Is there are a doctor or a nurse checking up on him? Oh, can they please give him something for the pain? He woke up only moments ago and he wants so desperately for it to end.

"You wanted him, now here he is." One of the voices breaks through the haze in his mind, the first words he's managing to register so far. Why does his head pound? Why is everything pounding?

He remembers headlights.

"And you felt like you had to run him over, did you?" Run over who? Can either of these two give him something to kill the pain? Or an explanation would be nice, too.

He groans louder, hoping to ask for help, but no coherent words leave him. That hand is in his hair now. Care is nice and all, but it would be much nicer if they could pick up on what he's trying to beg for here.

"You could've killed him on the spot! He might even still succumb to his injuries." No wait, that voice is familiar to him. The other one he doesn't recognize, but this one rings a vague bell. Hiccup has to open his eyes and take a look.

"Don't get my hopes up."

There are two men that he can see through a blurred vision and a dim light that's still a nightmare on his headache. He can't recognize one of them.

The other one, however...

"V...Vi... ggo?" Hiccup asks, voice hoarse. It's the first word that he manages to croak out. What's he doing in the hospital with him? Now that he thinks of it, where is Astrid? Snotlout? He can't remember if Fishlegs and the twins were home.

An image of Toothless flashes before his mind. He was there, wasn't he? Where is he now?

"you're awake, good, I was starting to worry," Viggo tells him, looking down at him with a look that isn't quite as caring as those words would suggest.

Hiccup blinks slowly in surprise.

"Where... What are you doing here? Where am I? Toothless is... What happened?" The questions are slow to leave him, but he's starting to catch up a little. He's not quite as awake as he needs to be yet. Why is this room so dim? Aren't hospital lights usually so annoyingly bright?

He wants to sit up or readjust somehow, feeling too uncomfortable with everything his body is going through. But though he tries, he only ends up worsening the pain in his right side tremendously. Whatever little progress he may have made is undone when he's forced to lie down again. His left knee hurts, did he dislocate it again?

This bed is so uncomfortable and lumpy, is this mattress even from this century anymore?

But the pain wakes him up at least and he can grasp the sort of troubling situation he's suddenly in a little more now.

This isn't the hospital.

He doesn't know what room he's in, but he can see that the little light bulb on the ceiling is bare and the only light source in this place, that the walls are brick, and the floor is made of concrete. If it weren't for the lack of storage space, he'd think that this is a basement, but that couldn't be it, right? He can't just be in someone's basement! He notices there's a ridiculously tiny bathroom off to the side, which at least looks clean.

What Hiccup's lying on is, indeed, a bed and his painful wrists are cuffed to the sides. If he wants to pull at them, he can try once or twice, but after that, they won't allow any more attempts.

Realization comes and panic sets in.

He's been kidnapped.

"Wh-what... What?!" He can't comprehend it, his thoughts and heart racing and struggling to keep up. Hyperventilating and very quickly unable to breathe at all, the rapid pace cannot mix with his broken ribs.

Did Viggo do this to him? Why would he do something like this?! Why would he hit him with a car and take him from his home?!

"Hiccup, calm yourself!" Viggo takes his shoulders and, honestly, how can he expect Hiccup not to freak out when he's been kidnapped?!

Oh Gods, Astrid was right. She was right, Viggo was bad from the start. And he's the idiot who walked right into another trap. Why does he keep getting himself into trouble like this?

Oh no, and what of his Bud? He definitely remembers his dragon being there when he was taken, what happened to him? What could've possibly happened to him?

"No... No! T-Tooth... Tooth?!" He doesn't have the air to ask, his lungs and his ribs in a fierce battle for whose needs need to be met first. They both burn.

"Hiccup, I implore you to calm!" Despite Viggo's best attempts, Hiccup doesn't listen to him, too much in a panic. If this goes on, he'll lose him before he can even start molding him to his perfect partner.

"That's never going to work, Viggo. You know there's only one solution to this." The other man, the stranger, states as he pushes him aside. A soaked cloth is pressed to Hiccup's nose and mouth, the sedative wetting it is breathed in immediately with his fast breathing and it takes its hold just as fast.

A different kind of haze settles in his mind, he's feeling woozy. It works quicker than he can realize he's being knocked out. He's going under, his breathing evening out, and his last thoughts wonders about his friends.

27 notes · View notes

maladaptive-ninja-returns · 4 years

Text

It’s The Avengers (03x06)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 3 Episode 06: Mrs Silvertongue

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: one of those tropes. one of those hnnghh tropes

Word Count: I was supposed to post this four hours ago but my colleague called me to play and that dumb dork was drunk while I was laughing throughout. So, here it is. Also...I’m hot. No, I am actually hot. The temperatures are going up! I need some cool breeze.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

"Everybody stay together. Do not make eye contact with strangers. Do not buy stuff you don't know about and definitely do not leave your eatables unattended."

The camera switched from Loki's barely composed face to your stuffed one strapping the backpack securely behind you before looking at Loki and the sandwich sitting on the seat between the two of you.

"Wha," you stated, still not swallowing, "iss wight hea. Sop bein a wowwie wat."

The camera in Javi's hand caught the bustle on the 'station' where you all were supposed to board shuttles to be on your way to another galaxy before travelling to Knowhere. The area was thousands of square feet wide made in a dome shape outside a planet currently under the supervision of the soldiers form Andromeda. After the War, the security had been tightened around galaxy travel to monitor any remains of the Radicals who had supported Thanos and were currently the most wanted criminals in the universe. Screens everywhere showed the flights and timings along with various commercials for products all around the galaxy. Some you were able to read thank to the translation glasses the Hardy boys provided you, others were a jumbled mess of strokes and illegible patterns. Creatures from all around the wonderful black expanse moved about in this station while soldiers who looked like they had been overly tanned scanned them and their belongings before sending them on their designated shuttles. It all worked as an airport. Except for one thing.

"Well, at least there's no random selection here that is not based on some 'racist profiling'," you quoted, getting a nod of agreement from Javi.

"Oh, there is racist profiling here," Loki interrupted your blissful thoughts, "but ever since the war, it has just been bent towards the ones who helped Thanos."

"Huh, even space isn't free from such mindsets then."

An announcement on the screens caught Loki's attention. "That's our shuttle. Come on. Lulu, up."

Lulu jumped and settled on Loki's shoulder and the camera caught a full grin on your lips.

You: *smirk* And he was the one who didn't want me to take Lulu from the desert *tilt your head* you know what... he is exactly like a choco lava cake. Sturdy looking outside but soft, mushy and melting aaaaall on the inside *giggles*

Loki: she was talking about me, wasn't she? *narrows eyes at the camera* What was she saying? Javi, tell me. Javi, we're good friends. Come on, Javi. You're stuck with me. Javi. Javi. Hey. I'm the only one who can get you out of this hell hole. Javi. *looks at Javi's figure walking away* Javi. Javi! Come on! Javi!!

The creature scanning your line seemed to come out of some American writer's stereotypical description of a green alien except for the part where her huge beady black eyes had slits, just like a cat. She was stoic as a feline too, going about her job without any emotion on her face. And when it came your turn to stand underneath the scanner, her ignorance of your greetings did not help your nerves.

"You are a...terran," she stated more than she asked.

"Yes, ma'am." You blinked like a dumb animal and tried to remember to smile.

"Your business in the galaxy?" Her slow and positively raspy voice interrogated.

"Just travelling with my-" you blinked again while trying to innocently shrug with a hint of shy, looking like a questionable human-"boys. You know, sight seeing."

Those silver slits stared at you for solid five seconds, not even breathing apparently, before stamping a token and handing it to you and diverting her attention to the next passenger- Loki.

You and your bags moved to the other side of the scanner, waiting for Loki and Lulu while Javier made it next to you from the scanner next to yours. The creature looked at the information the scan brought on her screen in a language neither you nor the camera understood. But one thing that was catching the camera's focus was this text blinking in red next to Loki's picture.

"You are Loki," she stated to the God, scrutinising him from head to toe in those black scruffed jeans and t-shirt underneath a deep maroon long jacket.

"Hm," you forced out a light chuckle, "guess Tony and Clint are not the only ones who are weirded out by seeing him in anything other than his New York attire."

"Of Asgard," Loki added with an 'at your pleasure’ smirk.

"A Frost Giant," the lady acknowledged in her raspy voice. "Have you travelled to the Andromeda before?"

"I have, yes. But not in the recent years."

"State your purpose for the visit to the galaxy."

"I am-" he paused to throw a quick look in your direction before going back to his interrogator- "going there on some unfinished business with an old friend."

The lady, stoic like a rock, looked at Loki for the next ten seconds before pressing a button underneath her screen. Somewhere behind you, you and the camera could hear synchronised footsteps. The camera turned to catch seven aliens- five bulky, one bulkier than all the others, and the last one a leaner and less appeasing version of the lady- walk past you towards Loki.

Lulu, who could feel the change in the atmosphere around him, felt himself shifting on Loki's shoulders while his fur stood up like a frightened cat. But never once did that little fluffy boy leave Loki's side.

"Loki, of Asgard," the leaner one announced, "you are to come with us. Please carry your belongings with you. Please refrain from using any means to resist for you will be charged against the law of the peace fleet. Please put your hands forward so we may put diluters on your wri-I see you already have some version of them on your wrist. Very well. Please follow me."

The camera caught you, mouth gaping open and eyes out in refrained horror, looking at Loki while trying to keep your breaths as calm as possible.

"Oh fuck," your breaths forced out, "what the fuck is happening? Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck fu-"

Loki was already moving behind the lean one, the parade of bulky Captain Gantu’s following him with their synchronised boot work. One of them looked down at the camera, sending a glare of yellow through those hollow eyes before turning back, entering what seemed like an elevator. Loki stood right in the middle, his eyes shifting from the lean alien to you for a few seconds before white doors closed and he disappeared from your view.

The camera now came back to your face, which was still staring in that direction, the colour from your skin a little faded, the pupils contracted to their limit, the breaths paused since God knows when. "Oh fuck we're gonna die."

There was a rhythmic pulse beating four times a second while the camera kept shifting- and vibrating a little- between two windows. Out of one window one could see those bulky dudes in attention standing at one door each, not shifting even a muscle while other aliens went about their business. The other window showed the lean guy standing with another alien that was bulkier in the middle. The lean one turned to the window at the rigorous tapping coming from the window.

"Calm down, Lulu," a soothing but tired voice came from out of the frame, making the little one turn towards Loki's figure sitting in what looked like a white chair beside an oval-shaped white table floating in the air, "they're not going to let us out. Not yet at least."

Lulu, who had paused to listen to the God suddenly found himself whimpering till its outright wails were catching everyone's attention outside the room.

"No, n-Lulu stop crying, Lu-" Loki got up from the chair and came to stand beside Lulu in two strides, picking the furry lump in both his hands while keeping his head away from those deafening wails. Slowly but surely, Loki brought the hysterical little lump to his chest, mostly to suppress the noise and wave uncomfortably at the judgmental eyes in his direction. At one point the fly camera-that had sneaked in with events yet unknown- caught an expression on Loki's face that reflected nothing but murder in his eyes. But the very next moment he sighed and brought his hands to stroke the frightened ball of fluff. "Hey, hey, hey," he shushed him, his hands being gentle and his expressions turning soft, "it's okay. It's completely fine. You're fine," he hummed, almost singing it while bouncing the little sobbing and hiccuping floof in his arms, "I'm in here too, aren't I? Right? You are not alone. You are not alone. We'll get out of here together as soon as we know who is behind all this mess, okay?"

The little furball sniffed and wiped his snot off on Loki's shirt. "You didn't have to do that," Loki pointed out with no real purpose to the already made mess. But Lulu was quiet now, possibly looking up at Loki and chirping something only the God understood and chuckled. "Yes-" he stroked Lulu's head- "she'll be fine without us. Once she stops panicking. Yes, yes, you're with me."

Lulu, chirped again, protruding his paw to carefully touch Loki's cheek and chirp some more. Whatever the little one had said, brought the God to a standstill, that tiny smile on his face frozen while his eyes seemed to have travelled somewhere far. "I wish that was true a few years in the past. How different some things would have been."

Lulu tilted his head in confusion while Loki seemed to be visiting certain memories that the camera on Lulu and others around them was not aware of. And all emotion in both these loveable creatures seemed to have been broken by a recognisable voice- so low and seemingly far away- somewhere in their vicinity. Lulu was the first to turn towards the window to the view of the lean guy, jumping at the sight.

And then Loki saw you standing right next to the alien who had arrested him, all colour from his face draining as he watched you flail your hands in some untethered rage right into the expressionless alien standing in front of you out of courtesy.

"Oh...oh no." Loki's face was completely opposite to whatever it is you were going through. Lulu was shifting his gaze between him and you, bouncing in Loki's arms with unadulterated joy. Javier was standing between the two of you with his camera- filming even in the midst of all the chaos.

Before he could compose himself, you were already walking towards him, the alien opening the door for you, letting you inside the room and closing it.

"Hey," your delighted and relieved face greeted Loki, "you guys okay?"

Lulu squirmed and chirped with joy, jumping straight into your arms to bonk his head with your face and rub himself all over you. Loki, on the other hand, stood there like he was seeing a ghost. "What are you doing here? You are not supposed to be here. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Oh neither did you, Loki," you were quick to point out.

Loki: *inhales* *put his palms together and brings them close to his face* *bends his hands towards the camera* Woman!

"You don't know what I or have not done so don't act like you know what you're doing, kitten," Loki pointed out rather harshly, forcing an offended gasp out of you, "you were supposed to be out there."

Your delight slowly seemed to be turning to an ember of rage. "Oh, I am sorry that tried to use my working brain to help you out in any way I can, your highness! If you wanted to spend more time in this weird jail you should have let me know when these big butts carried you off!"

"This does not concern you so stop," Loki did not let you finish. "Undo whatever it is you did. This is far more dangerous than you can stomach so off you go."

You scoffed and mocked him. "This is fir mir dingiris- well bad news it can't be undone because they think I'm your ride or die."

Loki was basically slapping himself on his face when trying to rub off the tension- along with his skin. "Wh-ha-hyy would they think that?! WHY?"

A whistle blew from behind the camera and Loki instantly caught it; along with catching your arms going across your chest while you tried to look anywhere but in the God's direction.

"Y/N," that soft but threatening growl was enough to crumble all the restraint you came undone faster than a horny teenage boy. "It's no big deal I just told them I'm your wife."

The camera timed the perfect zoom on that face that lost a couple of hundred years as it heard that sentence.

On Earth

"It's no big deal I just told them I'm your wife."

A shrill 'Oh my Gaaaahd' left Scott's lungs while the soda bottle in his hand crushed and burst everywhere. A shriller wail left Peter as he threw his hands at his face in the utter disbelief and fell on the ground. A cushion blew up in the tight grasp of Bucky's hands, making feathers fly everywhere, and Sam stood up with one fist on his mouth and the other pointing at the screen, howling like a mad fan. Pepper watched with insane delight in her eyes while slapping the thighs next to hers that belonged to her husband who sat there looking at the screen with narrowed eyes as if he had seen something wrong- like a glitch maybe. Natasha was the only one maintaining her composure while sipping on her margarita and looking at the camera form under her lashes.

Scott & Peter: *do a whole routine with their hands in unison* I sayyyy Y/N and Loki sittin' in a tree!!! Fake M-A-R-R-I-A-G-E!!!!!

Tony: *confused* Wife?

Vision: I don't get why Scott and Peter are so excited. *looks to his right* Why are they...

*camera pans out to show Wanda barely containing her excitement in her pressed lips*

Wanda: beeeecause they might have a ship, Vis. *looks at the camera and smile a wide toothy smile*

Vision: *tilts his head* but there's no way they could ride a ship in this facility Wanda

Tony: *still confused but in a different position* Wife??

Steve: *blinks* I guess....that's a good...strategy? *frowns* I mean...sure. *hears a sniff from outside the frame*

*camera pans out to show stone-faced Bucky sitting next to him*

Bucky: *barely hides his breaking voice* Goo-*clears his throat*-good infiltration strategy.

Steve: *stares worriedly at him* You okay buddy?

Bucky: *crumbles* no~

Tony: *lying flat on the sofa, face down* *raises his head* His wife??!!!

Sam: *hollering* wife wife baby!! *turns to his side and nudges the person sitting next to him* come on get in on the fun!

Clint: *nearly saves his coffee pot from spilling all over him with Sam's nudge*

Sam: *keeps nudging and dancing in his seat* somebody's having some space fun!

Clint: *moves the pot into his other hand to drink it with hollow eyes looking at nothing, in particular,* somebody's gonna die of some fun

Sam: *all smiles for the camera* huh?

Clint: nothin' *looks at the camera zooming in on his stone face*

Tony: *wheeling out from under his car with tools in his hands* HIS WIFE??!!

Rhodey: *guffaws while clapping his hands over his head till he's wheezing* oh-oh my-oh Jesus! Poor Tony. *wipes the tears from his face* I told him karma is a bitch but I never thought it would come to bite him right in his ass!!! *continues to chortle*

Tony: *stops making his green smoothie to topple the jar into the sink and walk out of the screen screaming in groans* HIS WIFE?!! OH MY GOD!!!

Space PD HQ

You haven't felt Loki breathing since you broke the news to him. He has just been standing there staring at you with faint confusion and curiosity, still as a statue.

"Loki-" you poke him- "Loki, say something! Don't just stand there like that! You're scaring me!"

"Y/N," he finally breathed out, his brows still creased, "do you know how many people I've killed?"

You shrugged. "I don't know? A couple? Do you know how many teenage girls I deceived when I was in high school?"

"How many?" He asks with keen interest before snapping himself back to reality. "Wait, what? No. Why would I need to know that?"

You shook your head casually while leaning on the floating table. "I don't know, I thought we were sharing our darkest numbers; like couples need to know these details. Right?"

"By the Norns," Loki groaned into his palms, rubbing his face hard. "Listen-"

The door hissed open and Mr Lean Alien walked in.

"Well, we haven't been introduced properly. My name is Tsuloche."

"Hi, Tsuloche. I'm Y/N," introduced yourself, closing the distance between you and Loki, your arms rubbing on each other.

"Listen, Tsulcohe, there has been a misunderstanding here. She-"

"Yeah, there's been a misunderstanding," your stressed and scoffed, crossing your arms across your chest, "like taking my husband prisoner for no reason at all?"

Tsuloche brought his nimble green- almost as thin and long as twigs- hands together. "Mrs....uhh...Miss Y/N, Loki has killed a lot of people in the past."

You groaned. "Now you sound just like my husband. I know he's killed a lot. And he's clearly suffering for it right now." You turned your head towards Loki, bringing your fingers to softly pinch his cheeks. "My poor baby."

Loki jerked away from your fingers slightly, whispering, "stop."

You didn't. Your fingers still reaching for those cheeks. "Stop it!"

You smiled as he grabbed your hand with his and held it in a good grip. "Okay, now you're just doing it to embarrass me in front of him."

Tsuloche tilted his head at this scene, blinking those translucent eyelids before his cat-like pupils dilated a little. "Do you know he supported Thanos' cause?"

You tried to yank your hand from his grip but Loki wasn't having it. So you turned back to Tsuloche. "Huh? Yeah, I know. He was undercover there to know his plans and stop him when the time came. What else you got?"

Tsuloche stood there blankly, shifting his gaze between you and the God for a good minute, his scarcely dilated pupils going back. "Why would you marry a criminal?! That too the one who tried to destroy your home?!"

You hummed and tried once again to slip your hands from Loki's death grip but failed- though that did not stir the seriousness away from your face at the alien's question. "Well, for the home invasion part, you'll understand if you ever had spiders, lizards and flies in your home."

Now, this confused the alien further but Loki forced out a laugh at your statement.

"I'm not sure I follow."

"Well, Tsuloche. The first time you see a spider or a lizard in your home, you scream and cry and want that monstrosity to be gone from your place. It's worse if they bring their friends over. At one point you form a plan of attack to get those sons of bitches out of your home because they don't pay the rent, do they? But it is later on that you realise that these spiders or lizards were actually what were keeping the flies away. You know, the flies that were contaminating your food and making you sick. The flies that were bringing disease from all corners. The only thing standing between you and death by flies was this one stubborn spider-" you squished Loki's face with your free hand, making him jerk and grab that other hand too- "who nearly killed all my people but didn't."

"As for the getting married part, Tsuloche, if you're married, you know very well the crimes you forgive when you love someone. I mean, have you seen this guy do anything bad since the War? No. That's 'cause he's been enjoying some downtime with me and my fam, getting to know me, marrying me, and now taking me and our little cuddly alien cat on a honeymoon! Ain't that right Lulu?!"

Lulu chirped.

By now those judgmental pupils were a full-blown dilated dorks looking at the two of you.

"Oh and that guy recording us outside is...is...our...videographer. Yes! That's who he is. There's a whole trend on Earth to put your life on the internet and stuff like that. So, he's here to...record everything we do on our honeymoon. Not everything, of course," you concluded a little loud with pressed lips and a nod as you realised the mistake.

"Nice save, dear," Loki chirped with a smirk.

"Shut up."

Those blown out pupils came back to disclose any emotions that last bit might have given away. Tsuloche cleared his throat. "Well, as...good as it all sounds, I am afraid I cannot let the Silvertongue go."

"Silvertongue?" you mentioned under your breath and looked at Loki's lips in amusement.

Loki caught your eyes darting to his tongue wetting his lips, sighing in a faint sense of defeat. "You know it's not silver. Why are you even looking at me like that?"

The camera caught your brow arch with some suggestions best kept to yourself. "Oh. I know," you sang, still looking at those lips, "I was wondering about what all would be...different if it were."

Wanda: *sits wide-eyed and flushed red* Uhh *clears throat* *presses her lips to suppress her smile* *talks softly with a shakey voice* I don't know what *puts one leg over another* *adjusts herself in the seat* what she meant by cat-that! What she meant by that. *turns red*

Loki just furrowed his brows at you uncomfortably before turning back to Tsuloche.

"Well, I'm not going anywhere without my husband, so..." You sat down on the lone chair in the room.

Tsuloche was already composing his wrinkled raisin face. "Very well then. I hope you find this interrogation room to your liking, Miss Y/N because he is not walking out of here for another seventy-two hours-"

The door hissed open to let in one of his subordinates who handed the alien a tiny cuboid-shaped device. One look at the tiny thing and Tsuloche looked back up with his sharp pupils dilating to the max. "Mrs and Mr Loki, you are free to go. The inconvenience is regretted and the department will provide you safe passage on the next shuttle to your destination."

A little surprised by the sudden turn of events neither of you wanted to let go of this opportunity. "And by our destination you mean anywhere we want?" You are eager to know; something that makes Loki's eyes turn to you and carry an expression barely recognisable on that perfect pale face. Some would even say it was a butt-hurt disappointment.

"Destination means the place you were previously travelling to. Your bags have been transported. Now all you need to do is get on it and enjoy the rest of your honeymoon."

Heaving a sigh of relief, Loki let go of your hands but still smacked away the one coming for his cheek again, making you chuckle. "I have very limited knowledge on the feline species but it almost looks like you're happy to set us free, Tsuloche." Loki quirked his brow in agreement with your statement.

"What?!" Tsuloche was a little taken aback, continuously blinking his translucent eyelids to make those starry eyes contract to their predator like gaze. But he couldn't. "Highly mistaken you are, madam. I am definitely not happy to let you resume your honeymoon with your beloved. I am enraged that you will be going away with a criminal and your monstrous little pet somewhere to spend time together. I am-I am definitely offended by the idea of this hardened criminal getting a second chance at life with someone so beautiful as you!"

You squeaked. "Aw! He thinks I'm beautiful!" Loki rolled his eyes and looked at the camera.

Tsuloche: *highly conscious* you want me to say something in that camera? Is this for their honeymoon album? *Eyes dilate* oooh! *looks at the lens* uhh ahem, do not do anything unlawful you two. Space is a dangerous place. And...and *eyes dilate to their maximum capacity* take care. *Exhales* *wipes something off his face* oh dear! That was really hard.

Space Shuttle

The entire shuttle was empty save for your little group. The seats were comfortable and the legroom quite spacious. Securing Lulu in a seat by the window, you sat down next to him, directly facing Loki. Javier sat next to him, recording the view out of the window.

“So, you sent in one of Javi’s camera flies, found a set of rules that said spouses are allowed to meet their other half and just...went with it?”

“I also used the uninet- the universal network- to find out about Tsuloche’s species and intimidated him with a little show of power. So, yeah. I read the rules of Space and this is the second time I saved your ass, Silvertongue," you state matter-of-factly, stretching your legs as much as possible.

"Don't get so cocky, kitten," Loki purred, fastening his seatbelt, "we still have a lot of places to go. You are lucky some people like your cute face."

Your brows went up and head tilted before Loki realised what he had done. "Aw! You think I'm cute!"

Lulu's camera caught Javier signing something to the two of you. "Keep having such petty arguments and aliens will actually believe you're married," you spoke his words out loud.

Both you and Loki looked at each other. "Married? To him?"

"Married? To her?"

The unison was too much on point. But the cackle eroding into the space out of the two of you made it better.

"You're funny," Loki chortled in Javi's direction.

"In your dreams, weirdo," you added. "Can you imagine? Mr and Mrs Silvertongue?" The laughs came out again while it was Javi's turn to look at Lulu's camera.

Avengers Facility

"No, Nat, I don't think he'll go that way. He doesn't belong there, like, mentally speaking," Scott gesticulated with a lot of hand movements.

"I think Scott's right," Wanda added.

"No, come on. He knows it's his birthright. So that would be the most obvious thing to go for. And we know he wasn't really seen as much once all hell broke loose back home, right?" Nat put forward her point of view while sitting on the sofa in her jammies.

"But if it wasn't that way then?" Pietro asked with keen interest. Nat thought about it for a moment and shrugged.

"Then it definitely would have been the latter. I mean, you were practically raised as one. He was raised as one, right?" Bucky asked Steve. The latter nodded.

"But still," Steve contributed, " there was something wrong there, right? Which is why all of those incidents happened. Are we sure he would still go for it even if he wasn't just another kid?"

Now the lounge went silent, thinking all of it through while the camera showed a very disinterested Clint sitting on the dining table to clean his guns, bows and arrows. The expression in his eyes felt like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

The camera swerved to another person standing by the lounge entrance, looking at the whole scene with utmost disorientation. "What's going on?"

Everyone looked up at Tony standing at the door.

"Oh, we were discussing what surname would Loki choose if he and Y/N got married?" Nat casually answered.

"Like, would he go for Loki Odinson or Loki Laufeyson," Peter explained.

The camera zoomed in on Tony's face, which was trying to do it's best to understand what was going on before giving up and just tilting his head and narrowing his eyes at everybody.

"They have been at it for two hours," a defeated voice comes from Clint's corner, who was looking at some distant void while cleaning his weapons.

"This...is a hypothetical situation, right?" Tony made sure. He had to make sure.

It took a second before everyone shrugged, nodded and hummed in agreement. None- except one camera- caught Scott and Peter crossed his fingers behind their back.

"Oh my God, I just got it!" Scott exclaimed out of nowhere with a new realisation on his face. "He doesn't have to think about the surname. It's Y/N who'll be making the choice."

And just like that, the seriousness in the air changed into a shared epiphany and everyone agreed without any vote against that thought.

"You guys are having a lot of fun with this," Tony sang sarcastically with judgement filled in his tone.

"Yeah, what about it?" Pepper called out from her comfy armchair while eating cheeseburgers and sipping soda, looking at Tony for an answer.

Tony, on the other hand, shifted his weight between his legs. "No. Nothing. You have fun, sweetie. Kisses! Muah! Muah! Muah! Please don't kill me in my sleep tonight."

125 notes · View notes

sinnamonn · 3 years

Text

Welcome to Hell ch. 3: Deal with a Devil

Levi kin assigns Gia and makes them help in a revenge plot against Mammon

Word count: 2.8 k

Mammon looked between Gia and Levi nervously,

“..Uh, listen up, human!” He started, “This here is Leviathan, Avatar of Envy. He’s the third oldest of us brothers. His name is kinda hard to say so just call him Levi”

“Hi.” Gia waved, only to be ignored by him. Rude.

“OK! Let’s move on!” Mammon said quickly, only for Levi to stop him.

“Mammon! Give me back my money. Then crawl in a hole and die!”

Oh shit.

“Come on, I told you I’d get it to you! I just need a little more time.” Mammon replied, “and you still want me to die even after I give it back? That’s harsh, Levi!”

So the Avatar of Greed was not the most popular brother, Gia gathered as they watched the two bicker.

“You need a little more time? How much more?” Levi sneered

“A little more means a little more!” He snapped back

“You’ve been telling me that for the last 200 years!”

“Hey, no! It hasn’t been 200 years it’s been 260! Get it right, Levi!”

“Dude you are not making yourself look better.” Gia said. They really wished they had popcorn about now.

“Yeah, that’s even worse!” Levi agreed

“Don’t you gang up on me!” Mammon exclaimed, “What the hell, human, I thought you were on my side?!”

“Nah, I’m still pissed that you tried to rob me. And called me broken. And were just a general dickhead to me.” Gia replied, earning a long groan from the demon. Levi picked up where they stopped.

“Unbelievable. Seriously Mammon, you’re—“

“I’m what? Scum? Is that what you’re gonna say?” Mammon cut his brother off with a harsh glare.

“A lowlife and a waste of space!”

Oh damn, that was harsh. Harsher than Gia thought, at least; they knew they were siblings and siblings fought like rabid animals but still.

“Hey, come on that’s even worse!? Mammon whined.

“Whatever, just give me my money.” Levi huffed, “I need to buy the blu ray box set of Journey to the Devildom: The Tale of a Little She-Devil and her Reluctant Companion.” Levi’s expression changed when he talked about the set, you could barely tell he was trying to extort Mammon.

Good lord that name was long. Was it a visual novel adaption? The only TV shows Gia ever saw with names as long as that were always anime adaptations.

“The initial round of copies includes promotional tickets to a live event as a special bonus.”

Oh, that was definitely anime.

Mammon only looked at him with a blank stare, “I’ve got no idea what you’re even talking about, Levi, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t even have any money to give you! How am I supposed to give back money I don’t have?”

Levi’s expression changed back to that sneer, “So then, you refuse to pay me back?” He asked.

“You looking for a fight, is that it?”

Fuck that! Gia did not want those two fighting in their room, they just got it for god’s sake. Not to mention their bickering got annoying.

“Hey, wait!” Gia put themself between the demons, not the smartest move but whatever, “If you’re gonna fight, then do it someplace that isn’t my room.”

Mammon ignored them,only putting on a mock heroic smile, “Listen human. You remember my advice from before? Well, you’re about to witness that for real. So…”

He took off running.

He fucking took off running. He had a bit of a limp from getting kicked in the kneecaps but he was still running. That bastard.

“Time for you to die, because it’s either you or me and it ain’t gonna be me!” He called back to them.

“You fucker! I’m gonna come back and haunt your ass!” Gia snapped before punching a wall. If they lived through this they were gonna make him hurt.

“Wh..damn it, Mammon!” Levi spat.

“I know! That fucking dickhead, I’m gonna beat his ass later!” Gia agreed, but Levi didn’t say anything to them, only looking down at them as if they were a bug or something. Gia suddenly got the distinct feeling that she would not be met with the bare minimum hospitality Asmodeus and Satan gave them.

“Do you even realize what happened? Mammon used you as a distraction to get away from me.” He said, “Or maybe I should say he used you as a sacrifice.”

“You don’t need to rub it in.”

“I admit Mammon is the scummiest scumbag you’ll ever meet...But still, that was pretty dumb of you letting him use you like that.”

Why was Gia getting blamed!? They didn’t know Mammon would just take off!

He sighed, “This is exactly why humans are-wait a second…”

“Uh, no, lets not do that.” Gia snapped, their already thin patience was running thinner, “Humans are what now!?” They took a step closer to the avatar of envy, glaring up at him. First they were kidnapped, then forced to stay here, then almost mugged, then left for dead, and now this asshole was just being xenophobic! They were tired!

“Out with it! If you have something to say then say it!” Gia snapped.

Levi was taken aback, staring at them slack jawed and wide eyes like a fool. Had no one ever had the guts to talk to him like that or…?

He mumbled something under his breath.

“What was that?”

“You’re just like Taiga! The Palmtop Tiger! F-from Toradora!” He exclaimed.

“Wha…?”

Toradora? Gia hadn’t heard that name in years.

“I Mean, a normie like you probably doesn’t know that anime but—“

“I know that anime, though.” Gia cut him off. They did not get made fun of in middle school for watching anime for some demon to call them a normie, “That one’s, like, on every starter list.”

“Woah! You’re not as much of a normie as I thought!” Levi exclaimed happily, “That means you’ll help me with my plan right!? You’re coming with me to my room!”

Without giving Gia a chance to answer Levi grabbed their wrist and began dragging them elsewhere. They cried internally, already missing the super soft, heavenly bed and fluffy pillows.

They were so tired.

Was this their life now? For a whole-ass year?

—— ——

Levi looked around before unlocking his room and (not) discreetly rushing Gia in.

Woah.

Levi’s room was...incredible.

The ceiling was glass and bathed the rest of the room below in blue, the reflections of water danced across the floor. His ceiling was a tank! Gia’s eye excitedly bounced from the anime and manga collections, to the triple monster in the corner, to the floating jellyfish lights, to the bathtub in the dead center. But what really caught their attention was the very back wall, also made of glass. It was also a tank, a beautifully decorated fish tank filled with plant life all seemingly for the one goldfish that swam peacefully around the center.

“For someone who doesn’t even look like an otaku you really-hey what’re you doing?”

Gia ignored him in favor of the tank, wanting to take a closer look at it, stumbling lightly across Levi’s room.

It was even cooler up close, the plants were real and the water was so clean!

“Oh, that’s Henry 2.0, I named him after the protagonist of my favorite book series The Tales of the Seven Lords, or TSL,” Levi explained, coming up next to them, “I bet even a not-so-normie normie like you thinks it’s pretty lame, right?” He asked bitterly, catching Gia off guard.

“What, no!?” They replied, quickly turning to the demon, “Levi, this is amazing! This is the best set up I’ve ever seen for a goldfish, I can’t count how many times I’ve seen them shoved in a barely one gallon tank with zero enrichment!”

“Y-You’re just making fun!” Levi sputtered, avoiding eye contact.

“Why would I make fun of you for taking really good care of your fish? That’s dumb.”

“Whatever! Just because you’re a little less of a normie doesn’t mean I’ll go easy on you!” He snapped, “Anyway, I didn’t bring you to tell you about Henry or TSL.”

Yeah no shit, gatekeeping asshole.

“I don’t think there’s any harm in just coming out and saying it: Mammon is a complete and utter scumbag.”

“So I’ve gathered.”

“It’s very important that you understand this, so I’ll say it one more time…”

“You really don’t need to—“

“Mammon is a hopeless, worthless, scumbag!” Levi sneered, “I lent that scumbag money, and now I want him to pay me back. But being the scumbag he is, he won’t do it.”

“Ok.” Gia deadpanned, could he get to the point instead of reiterating Mammon’s scumminess? This was getting annoying.

“I wish I could force him, but despite what a rotten waste of space he is, he’s still the second oldest. As the third oldest, no matter how hard I try, I don’t stand a chance against him…”

Gia’s attention trailed off to the tub in the middle of his room. Oh god was that his bed? That couldn’t possibly be comfortable, Levi’s back had to be killing him! Was that why he was such an ass? Because he was sore all the time from sleeping in a bathtub?

“Are you even listening!?”

“Huh?”

“I said his room is covered in junk! Old, empty cup ramen containers, tissues with dried snot and...and boogers in them! Stuff was strewn everywhere!” Levi shuddered, “ And there Seraphina was, lying on the FLOOR! Tossed aside like a piece of junk!How could he?! That’s no way to treat an ultra rare figure.”

Oh so this was about a figure now?

“ I tried getting back at Mammon for her, I went into his room when he was asleep and tried to beat him up, but when I brought my foot down on his stomach next thing I knew he wasn’t there anymore. It all happened so fast,” he continued, “then he grabbed me and slammed me headfirst into the floor in a pile driver. And the worst was that he was COMPLETELY NAKED!”

Gia had to try and hold back their laughter, the image of a screaming Levi getting the shit kicked out of him by a naked Mammon was too funny. That had to be the most sibling thing they had heard all...day? Night? What time even was it? Come to think of it, how did time work in the Devildom? When they had been spirited away Gia had been getting ready for bed, so was it also night here?

“...Why does he have to sleep in the nude? He could at least put on some underwear. I don’t remember anything else.” He sighed, “ You've seen just how fast he is yourself, haven’t you? No one aside from Lucifer or Beel has that kind of speed. But if, say, a human made a pact with Mammon, and bound him to their service…”

“Wait, you want me to make a pact with him?” Gia asked, “Doesn’t that involve, like, selling my soul? I feel like there are better demons for that.”

“Well, you’re not wrong, but this isn’t about you. This is about me getting my money back from Mammon and you helping me.” Levi huffed. Selfish ass. “Besides, you get the benefit of Mammon having to do whatever you tell him to.”

Oh?

Maybe this whole pact thing wasn’t such a bad idea?

“So you want me to make a pact with Mammon then force him to give you back your money, and I get a demon slave out of it?” Gia asked, Levi nodded.

“For a normie, you catch on fast.”

“I’ve been told. Also don’t call me a normie.” They replied, now deciding to give him a hard time, “You know, I’m not so sure about seeing my soul. Maybe I won’t help you.”

“H-Hey! Don’t go back on me! For some pacts you don’t even need to give up your soul, but you still need to give something to the demon. I know exactly how to negotiate that with Mammon!”

“Hmm?” Gia feigned disinterest, but this is exactly what they wanted to get out of Levi.

“It’s goldie, his credit card. Lucifer took it and hid it. Find that, and Mammon will do whatever you want.” Levi explained quickly.

“Well, Levi…” Gia said, a sly smile growing on their face, “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

“....Your smile’s creepy. Stop it.”

What a fucking asshole.

#🏩self insert🏩#obey me shall we date #self insert writing #self ship writing

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topsytervy · 3 years

Text

Colorful Notes ~ Pope Heyward

Naming and knowing how to end my writings is my Kryptonite, I swear.

Blurb: Pope stops by your house after school while your sick and informs you his notes are boring.

Word Count: 1,451 (it's a short one peeps)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of a cold?, spelling/grammar mistakes, there's not really anything else that needs a warning I think.

~~~~~~

You laid on your couch a sniffling, coughing mess as some random soap opera played on your tv. Well, random being the Young and the Restless cause you saw it on Hulu and decided you had nothing better to do.

You were called in from school by your father, much to your dismay considering you had an AP world history test that day, and were forced to rest.

You heard a knock on the front door before it opened, a familiar voice calling throughout your house. "Y/N! Sweetheart!"

"In here, Pope!" You called out, immediately regretting it when you started coughing.

Within a couple of seconds, the face of your sweet boyfriend came into view and you smiled.

"How are you feeling, baby?" He asked, walking over to the couch and setting his backpack down next to it.

He placed a quick kiss to the top of your head as you sat up. "Like shit. And when I figure out who got me feeling like shit, they will be feeling like shit when I punch them for making me miss a test." You grumbled. Pope let out a small laugh as he sat down, pulling you into his side. You rested your head on his chest as you wrapped your arms around his waist. "Please tell me you brought me my homework."

"I did but your dad told me not to give it to you because you'll do it now and you need to rest. He thinks you got sick cause of stress and I think-"

"You think it was John B cause he was sick that one day." You cut him off and he shot you a look.

"I think your dads right." Pope finished, emphasizing the 'I' in his sentence.

You pouted. "I think he's wrong."

Pope rubbed your back and sighed, changing the subject. "What on earth are you watching?"

"The Young and The Restless."

"Why?"

"Well, there's 48 seasons of Young and the Restless and I started thinking about how easy it is for us nowadays to go through an entire season. We go through a season as if it's a hot knife cutting through butter. So I wondered how long it would take me to watch all 48 seasons if I didn't just stick to a season a day which made me do the math and if I can get through 2 seasons a day, I can watch all of it on 24 days. I now have a goal to watch all 48 seasons before day 24 hits all while keeping up with everything happening." You rambled.

"And how long are these episodes?" Pope inquired.

"The show started in 1973 and up until 1980, episodes were about half an hour. Every episode after 1980 is about an hour."

"Sounds like you have your work cut out for you then."

"Well, I need something to keep me busy, Pope."

"You're not gonna be sick for 24 days sweetheart which means you won't be able to watch at least 2 and a half seasons a day if you wanna get it done before day 24 because you'll be back at school." He reasoned.

You grinned. "I know. Which is why once I'm back at school I'm dropping the knowing what's going on bit. Then it can just play while I get ready, or eat, or do homework." Pope rolled his eyes and reached for the remote but you pulled it away from him. "I'm only half a season in and this is season 5, bucko."

"Alright. Alright. I just thought maybe," Pope sighed, reaching over and unzipping his backpack and pulling out some of his notebooks. You perked up at the movement, pulling away from Pope and staring at your boyfriend. "I have all these boring notes from the past week and they're so dull. I thought you would want to do your thing and make them a little less dull but I guess not." He shrugged.

You grinned and wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing his cheek. "Pope, you are the greatest human being on earth. Do you know that?"

"You tell me everyday." He smiled before getting up to go grab your gel pens from your room.

This wasn't the first time Pope had done this. Letting you doodle/color code his notes when you were bored or needed a break from whatever or even to just calm you down. It was enough to keep you relaxed while also engaging your brain.

Freshman year was the first time he ever let you do it and since then, he hasn't liked his notes in just boring pencil. He also hasn't thrown away any of his notebooks and barely lets anyone touch them, besides you of course, in fear that someone will destroy your work.

"Please John B. I just wanna do something." You pleaded.

You sat at a table in the library during study hall, all your homework done, with your friends Pope, John B, and JJ.

John B looked over at you. "They're notes, Y/N/N. I'm throwing all of them in a bonfire at the end of the year. It's pointless."

You rolled your eyes before turning them onto JJ. "JJ, can I please do something with your notes. I'm dying of boredom over here."

JJ laughed. "Bold of you to assume I took down notes. Come on, Y/L/N. I thought you knew me better than that."

"Why didn't you take notes?"

"I can give you many reasons. One is why waste paper on useless shit. Deforestation and shit exists. Save some trees. Two is because then I don't have to buy new notebooks next year and I can save some money. Three is why the hell would I when I can just look at yours or Pope's." JJ listed before resuming his paper airplane. You stared at JJ and he glanced back up before sighing. "This is actually for science this time. Don't worry. I'm not gonna use it to piss off the librarian."

You were about to say something when a notebook was pushed towards you. You looked across to see Pope with a small smile. "Knock yourself out."

You grinned before opening it up and grabbing your gel pens from your backpack.

JJ leaned in close, knowing of his best friends small, but growing, crush on you. "Fuckin' whipped, dude." He chuckled which caused Pope to hit him.

Since then, Pope made sure to write light enough so you could trace over the words and left enough space for small doodles if you felt some were needed.

"Do you have a color scheme in mind?" You asked, sitting on the living room floor and laying out all your pens in front of you with Pope's science notebook opened to where you left off.

Pope thought about it for a minute before shaking his head. "You do whatever you deem fit, sweetheart."

You grinned before turning your full attention onto the small project in front of you, reading over the words in front of you to see what colors you wanted to use.

Pope sat behind you, playing with your hair as he watched you do your thing, content written all over your face.

"I love you." You told him after a while, sniffling as you felt your nose begin to run

Pope smiled, kissing the back of your head as he reached for the box of tissues that sat beside you guys. "I love you too. Snot and all." He responded, holding the box out in front of you.

You grabbed a tissue with a pout before blowing your nose, Pope reaching for the trash can to bring it closer. "I hope I get you sick."

Pope laughed. "Good luck with that. My immune system is solid, baby. It'll take more than this to get me sick."

You rolled your eyes before looking up at him and tapping your lips. "Kiss."

Pope laughed once more as he shook his head. "Nice try, Y/N/N, but no."

You narrowed your eyes at him "I'll get ya, Heyward. I'll get ya when you least expect it. You won't even see it coming."

"I bet you will. Until then, and by then I mean better, all kisses will be placed on the cheek, hand, shoulder, top of the head, back of the head, and forehead."

You made a face. "That's rude."

"So is getting me sick. Now are you gonna do your thing or argue with me?"

"Both." You responded as you went back to Pope's notebook.

Pope smiled as he wrapped his arms around you and placed his head on your shoulder. "Bring on the debate then baby."

~~~~

#pope heyward #pope obx #pope outer banks #jonathan daviss

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blazehedgehog · 4 years

Note

Sorry to ask this, but what are your thoughts on Dunky's "I'm Done Making Good Videos" with regards to content you aspire to author vs what the average joe actually searches for

I don’t know if I’m the best person to be asking this, really.

Let’s get fully inside baseball here. Let’s pull the curtain all the way back. Actually, let’s burn down the curtain. I’m going to overshare like hell right now. Get ready for the most stream-of-consciousness rambling ever, because a lot of this has been boiling in my head and dying to get out.

For the entirety of my Youtube channel, I’ve pretty much only ever done what I want to do. Very rarely do I chase trends, or do what’s hot, or even do what people want me to do. I do whatever I feel like doing.

I have paid the price for that. My Youtube channel is 15 years old as of this year, and only now am I slowly inching towards 25,000 subscribers. I am incredibly inconsistent. What’s my channel post? Well, a couple times a year, maybe I put together an edited essay/review for a game. But I also sometimes post random, unedited, uncommentated gameplay footage. Maybe it’s a fan game, maybe it’s a gameplay demo, maybe it’s Fortnite. Sometimes, I also post remastered video game music. Every Halloween, I dump a bunch of one-off horror Let’s Plays on to my channel. And then, there’s the podcast.

I know exactly what my problems are. I don’t specialize enough, and I don’t put content out fast enough. Because most Youtube channels are, like, “shows”, right. The Did You Know Gaming show. The Markiplier show. The Angry Video Game Nerd show. And you can point at those and say exactly what they are in two sentences or less.

Did You Know Gaming specializes in informative videos uncovering obscure facts you might not know about popular video games.

Markiplier is a Youtuber that does Let’s Play videos for video games, primarily horror games, but he also focuses on general comedy skits and things of that nature.

The Angry Video Game Nerd is about one guy’s over the top reactions to bad video games.

What does BlazeHedgehog do? Well, he does a lot of Sonic fan content, but sometimes he does horror let’s plays, and sometimes he does multiplayer compilation videos sort of like Criken, but he also does music, and sometimes he makes video games and puts out videos of that, and in general he’s really low energy and sometimes there will be three or four weeks between uploads. Also he sounds like Booger from Revenge of the Nerds Snot from Family Guy (apparently).

If you come to my channel for something specific, you have to put up with everything else I upload. I could start separate channels for that content, but the barrier to entry on Youtube is so massive now that I would effectively sending those channels to their death. Videos that get 200-500 views on my main channel would get 10 views or less if they were on their own self-contained alt-channel.

So I languish. I struggle. I suffer. Youtube shows me red down arrows to tell me just how much worse I’m doing now than my last flash-in-the-pan success.

I’ve tried to chase success. It just makes me sad. I have a sense of humor, but I don’t think I can make “funny videos” like some people can. My Sonic 06 glitch video did gangbusters ten years ago, but I don’t often like kicking games when they’re down. It was a struggle to make that Sonic Boom glitch montage and that’s the reason I never followed through with Part 2 like I said I would.

My only wish is that people appreciate honesty. My Youtube channel might be a scattered mess, but that’s who I am. And more than anything, I think that’s what Dunkey’s video was about. His whole joke was about switching from thoughtful or funny videos to becoming a content farm for whatever is currently popular.

I’ve brought it up a few times here and there over the last few months, but I’ve had several brushes with the Fortnite side of Youtube recently. And there are so many dudes over there who are what I would generously call “grifters.” I follow Hypex on Twitter and routinely check Firemonkey and ShiinaBR because they datamine future Fortnite updates and often have the scoop days, weeks or sometimes months in advance.

Near the end of season 3, all three of them mentioned they had datamined “the next season” but wouldn’t say what it was because they didn’t want to spoil what was coming (the marvel season). They mentioned there were “others out there” that were spoiling things, but wouldn’t say who. I wanted to spoil myself, so I turned to Youtube.

And Youtube was a nightmare. Over and over and over, I would encounter tons of people downright thriving on the same grift. It’s an open secret that Youtube prioritizes longer videos, so if your video is under ten minutes (or I think now 8 minutes), the algorithm isn’t going to be as nice to you and won’t promote your video as well, and you aren’t going to get as much advertising money because fewer people are going to sit through a video advertisement that’s a quarter of your video’s entire length. Longer videos are more profitable for Youtube, and by extension, for the user uploading them.

So it was video after video of these guys making big bold claims about how they had all the answers on what the next season of Fortnite was, and you’re thinking, “oh wow, it’s a 17 minute video, they’re going to spoil everything!”

You load the video up and it’s some guy in his streamer man cave, he’s got his webcam on, and he loads in to a match of Fortnite with his squad. Keep in mind, this video was pitched as a news report of sorts, a big spoiling of future content... and it’s just a guy playing Fortnite with a crew. In the few seconds between matches as he queues for the next one, he stops to deliver a single shred of information, most of which start with “Hypex said...”

The one thing you came to this video for and it’s scattered like breadcrumbs across a 17 minute video of a guy just playing normal matches Fortnite to fill time. It’s not information they acquired for themselves, they all just regurgitate what Hypex said, or what other channels reported Hypex saying. 17 minutes of padding for scraps of second-hand leaks. And I found dozens of these channels, all repeating the same format, all repeating the same specks of leaked information, and all of them had 150,000 to 200,000 views on each of their videos in less than 24 hours. That’s hundreds of dollars per video on a format to scam the system.

But that’s a content farm. Those dudes are vultures. I have a hard time believing their hearts are really in it. I know it’s not a term that’s really in vogue anymore, but I see that as “selling out.” They know what they are doing and it’s to make money, not to make a community better. I mean, one of those videos was a guy who was reading Marvel comic hero profiles off of Wikipedia because it sounded like he literally did not know who guys like Iron Man, Thor and Wolverine even were. How are you in touch enough with pop culture that you’re cranking out factory-fresh Fortnite content for Youtube but you don’t know who Thor is? Answer: because you don’t really care and you’re in it for the money. Gotta hit that 15 minute threshold and put in six mid-roll ad breaks.

I could be that guy. That’s kind of what I was hoping “This Kinda Sucks” would turn in to, which would be sort of a rant video series like The Jimquisition or something. But I did not have the interest or energy to keep that up. So you get a playlist with two videos on it.

I’m sure Dunkey was just funnin’ around. Dude has 6 million subscribers. But for me, like... what he said in the video is mostly true. Following your heart and making thoughtful content you are personally interested in won’t pay the bills. I mean, as I predicted, that Jurassic Park video launched to the sound of crickets chirping. My most hardcore fans and a few curious onlookers checked it out but that was it. I’ve been working on that video since August, and it’s something my viewer base did not care about. But I cared about it, and that’s important for the long-run, I think.

The other problem, sort of a disconnect, is that I’m lucky to be in the position I’m in. I think guys like Dunkey probably make all of their money from places like Youtube and Twitch and Patreon and that’s their career. That work pays all of their bills.

My work does not pay my bills. Or it does, but it’s not enough to pay all of my bills. I am lucky enough right now that I am in a living situation where I can make fractions of money in intermittent spurts. That won’t always be the case. But for now, I get to be honest, and I get to follow my heart in whatever random, chaotic direction it feels like going that particular day. Dunkey faces a different sort of pressure than I do.

All of this is to say I have no idea what I’m doing, I guess. I make the content I want to see.

That being said, I increasingly think about something I heard Woolie say early on when he went solo for his WoolieVS channel, and that was the idea of “One for you, one for me, one for us.”

Because I’ve had more than one friend burn out doing, like, Twitch streams and stuff. You hear about Youtubers who get sick of being shackled to new releases or whatever’s popular. At some point these people wake up and realize they’ve had this struggle, maybe made some money in the process, but they’re miserable because they don’t get to do what they want to do. They’re always being pushed forward by the fans that are behind them.

The “One for you, one for me, one for us” mantra does at least keep you a little more sane. Balance in all things, right? So that Jurassic Park video, it can flop. It’d be nice if it didn’t flop, given what time of the year it is, but it’s a video for me. I have other video ideas in the chamber that I know will be for my audience, or “for us.”

I just have to stay true to myself, and to my messy brain.

#questions #dunkey #youtube #inside baseball #behind the curtain #long posts #spilling my guts #Anonymous

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willow-salix · 4 years

Text

Isolation update and one of two planned offerings for @gumnut-logic 's "Touch" prompt. Enjoy!

Day 80 of Isolation on Tracy Island and it started with Alan breaking into the bedroom while we were still asleep. I woke to him rummaging around in the bedside drawer.

“Dude? Whatcha doin’?” I mumbled, it was far too early, I was far too snuggly warm and getting up was in no way on my radar for at least another few hours.

“Oh, I just wanted to borrow your contact lens solution.”

“Huh?” I groaned, having kinda half dozed off again while he had continued to search through the drawer. “What lens solution?”

“That stuff you got with those coloured lenses you wore at halloween.”

I prised one eye open again and poked the sleepy hamster in my brain that had fallen off the wheel and was far too lazy to get up again.

“Oh...that…” where was it? Where did I even put it? I tried to mentally rewind more than eight months… it wasn't easy. Hell, without this diary I wouldn’t even know what day of the week we were on or what I did two days ago…come to think of it, what did I do two days ago?

Fingers snapped in front of my face, making me jump.

“Did you drift?”

“Yeah, sorry...lens stuff...it’s in the…” where was it? I could picture it…”drinks cabinet in the lounge!” I finished triumphantly, that was it. We’d had a small party and I’d taken the lenses out half way through as they had made my eyes itch and I’d stashed them in the first place I had come across, which just so happened to be the place where I was returning to the most that night. I blame Scott, I always blame Scott, if there is ever a drinking game happening or karaoke is started, he’ll be there.

“Alan, I…where did he go?” The drawer was still open and the bedroom door was ajar, but at least it was quiet again. I yawned so wide I almost turned my face inside out and curled back up against the warm body next to me and closed my eyes…

Coffee...I smell...delicious black gold...I sat up a little without even opening my eyes and reached for the mug, taking a sip before I felt able to face the world.

Perfect. Milky, silky, smooth, sweet perfection in a mug. I opened my eyes to see that he'd put it in one of my favourite mugs, the black one shaped like a cauldron that said "witch's brew" on the side. The paleness of the milky latte was broken up by a swirl of coffee and caramel syrup that floated peacefully on the surface like a miniature galaxy. Top ten reason to marry a guy, he makes the most amazing coffee, even if he doesn't do it very often.

“Gods that's good, thank you, I so needed this.” I sipped again then put the mug down on the bedside table, I wanted to savour this...why was that drawer open and all my stuff messed up? Not that I was the tidiest person in the world but I know it wasn't that bad. My sluggish brain managed to kick up an image of the blond baby… “Did I dream Alan coming in at stupid o’clock this morning looking for something?”

“Hmm?” John stopped rummaging in the wardrobe to look at me. “I don’t know, I don’t remember anything after we started watching that film with the puppets in it.”

“They are Muppets, you heathen and I have no idea how you could fall asleep watching that, it’s amazing.”

“Because it was after two and I was tired?”

“Pathetic excuse. Anyway, back to the original question, did I dream Alan? What did he want?”

“Again, I don’t know, you’ll have to find him and ask.”

“Mm,” I agreed, picking up my coffee again. “I’ll go in a minute, it can’t be that urgent.”

An hour later I was actually up, showered, dressed and had even had breakfast, that’s how organized I was. OK, so it was technically after lunchtime but that's beside the point. I tracked the small one down to Virgil’s studio, which is never, ever a good thing. No one is allowed in there without permission on pain of death. I caught him just as he came out with a bottle of glue in his hands.

“What are you up to, Squirt?”

“Nothing!” Unfortunately he said that at the same time as he hastily tucked the glue behind his back.

“Nope, not falling for it. What’s going on?"

"Nothing!" he insisted again.

"I can see you hiding something behind your back."

“OK,” he sighed. “ But promise you won’t get mad?”

“What did you break? Because that’s only craft glue for paper, it won't fix broken things.”

“I know that! And I didn’t break anything, you always think the worst of me.”

“Sweetie, I don’t think that, I just know you.”

He opened his mouth to argue but then shut it again.

“OK, that’s fair," he admitted

“So why would I get mad if you didn’t break anything? Not that I’d get mad if you had broken anything as I’m sure it would have been an accident.”

“Thank you for your faith in me.”

“So, what are you doing?”

“Well, I was bored-”

“Understandable.”

“And I started looking around the internet and I kinda fell into a search hole-”

“Also understandable, I’ve been there myself far too many times to count.”

“Anyways, I found this post about things that kids did in the early two thousands and one of them was to make slime. Apparently everyone was obsessed with it.”

“Really? Slime?” I found that quite hard to believe.

“Yeah, there were even whole video channels dedicated to making it and playing with it.”

“People actually wanted to watch videos of people playing with slime? That’s disgusting.”

“No, it’s not like, super sticky slime, but more of a cool slime.”

“That makes zero sense, little dude.”

“I don’t understand it either, but it seemed too cool to not at least try, you know?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I get that, I’ve done many things that seemed too cool not to.”

“Really? Like what?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

“It’s not anything gross with my brother, is it?”

I gave him that look that says all and nothing, it’s always fun to keep them wondering just what the heck I even meant, the puzzlement on their faces is priceless.

“Wanna make slime with me?”

“Sure,” I shrugged. “How bad can it be?”

***

“So you pour the glue in the bowl,” Alan instructed.

“Done that, what's next?”

“Then you add a… what does that symbol mean?”

I glanced at his phone. “Tablespoon.”

“One tablespoon of baking soda.” We both dumped that in the glue.

“A couple of drops of food colouring.” We both added green, him because he wanted to make fake snot, me because I wanted it to look like Slimer had been visiting.

“Now we add one or two tablespoons of the contact lens solution and mix.”

“Better add just one first,” I suggested, “if it’s anything like baking it's always better to start with less and add more.”

“Yeah, it says the more you add the sloppier it gets.”

We dumped in a spoonful each and mixed...and mixed...and mixed. I added a little more but wanted more of a thick consistency, he added a whole tablespoon more as he wanted ‘the whole slime experience’.

“No we have to knead it,” he instructed me.

“O...K” I didn't like the sound of that. I thought I'd just be mixing, not getting my hands in it. I poked the goo with a finger. “It’s cold!”

Alan, being Alan, just dived right in, sticking both hands in the bowl.

“Coool,” he grinned, squishing the gooey mixture so that it oozed out from between his fingers. “This is so weird.”

I was a little more delicate. I pushed my finger in knuckle deep and felt around. I don’t know what for or what I hoped to achieve. It was like poking barely set jelly, it left a bit of a dent and closed over my finger like it was sucking it in. “Ewwww.”

“This is great!”

“I don’t like it.” I wiggled my finger around in the slop then withdrew it, feeling the stringy strands stick to my skin. “Ewwww.”

“I love it!”

“You would, you gross little munchkin.”

“You gotta get your whole hand in there, don’t be shy.” He slapped his sticky hand down on top of mine, smaming it into the ick. I screamed. It was disgusting.

“You horrible little worm!”

“Wiggle your fingers!”

“No!”

“Do it!”

“No!”

“Dare you.”

“Dammit.” I wiggled and shuddered in revulsion. “It’s horrible.”

Alan was kneading his like he was making bread, putting in far more effort than he had that time we made pizza dough. I glanced into his bowl and yes, it was looking far better than mine was.

“Urghh I’m gonna have to do it, aren't I?” I took a deep breath and stuck both hands into the bowl. “Yuck, yuck yuck, yuck, yuck,” I chanted as I smacked and punched at the mess. Slowly but surely, it came together, becoming far less sticky and turning into a silky smooth substance that, I hated to admit, was actually quite satisfying to play with.

“You’re having fun, aren't you?” Alan grinned.

“I admit nothing,” I sniffed, though he was right and he knew it. I picked up the mess and pushed the bowl aside.

If he was treating it like dough, so would I. I dumped it on the counter and began to knuckle it, pulling and stretching with my hands, just as I would to add air to bread. Suddenly seized by the unholy urge to whip I, I grabbed hold of one end and flung my hand back, whipping it forwards to stretch out the slime and splat against the counter. OK, that was actually pretty cool.

“I wonder if this bounces?” I balled it up again and dropped it onto the counter top where it landed with a wet splat, flattening into a puddle.

“Coooool,” Alan whistled, doing the same to his, although his was a lot sloppier and spread across the counter. Mine looked more like a fried egg, his was like spilt juice.

“Oops,” he tried to pick it up but it was far too slippery, sliding between his fingers and plopping out of his hand.

I helped by grabbing a spatula from the utensils pot and trying to pick it up like it was a pancake. It didn't work. Strings of goo slid between the slats of the spatula and dripped downwards.

“Grab the bowl!” I yelped and he held it underneath to catch the run off. I scraped the spatula against the side of the bowl and peeled the last, stubborn bits off and flicked them into the bowl along with the rest.

“What are we actually going to do with this stuff?” I asked him.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ve got plans,” he grinned.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” I groaned. “Just please, keep me and John out of it, he doesn’t need the extra stress, he already has to put up with me.”

***

I was sensible with my weird goo, I added a few drops of essential oil having found, much to my amazement, that it actually was quite relaxing to squish it and play with it. I found myself taking it out of it’s tub frequently that evening while we watched a movie, smoothing out the cool jelly, kneading it in my palm and squeezing it until it smushed in between my fingers. The soothing scent of lavender wafting up to fill my nose.

“OK,” John said after watching me for quarter of an hour. “I’ll bite, what do you have there?”

“Slime, I made it with Alan,” I held out my hand and dropped the ball of eww into his palm.

The look of disgust on his face was everything.

“Squish it,” I instructed.

“Squish it?”

“Yeah, like this,” I plonked my hand down on top of his and mashed the goo between our fingers.

“That is the most revolting thing I’ve ever felt in my life.”

I pulled my hand away from his, the slime clinging desperately for a few seconds, stretching between our hands before it gave way and boinged back into one mass in his palm.

"I don't like it," he poked it with one finger.

“It’s not that bad, it’s actually quite ni-”

A pained yelp and then a bellow that sounded like an enraged bull echoed around the villa.

“That sounded like Scott,” I gasped, sitting up.

Scott skidded into the lounge, face like thunder, naked apart from a towel wrapped around his waist.

“What the hell happened?” I asked in shock. “What happened to your head?” I got up to look closer, seeing that a red bump was rapidly forming between his eyebrows.

“I was going to take a shower, but no water came out. I turned the water up higher and something green oozed out of the holes and then the whole shower head popped off and clonked me on the head.”

I bit my lip, trying hard not to laugh.

“What do you have there?” Scotts eyes narrowed, zeroing in on John’s hand where he still held the slime.

“Run!” I yelped and John, pulling on his old track and field days, leapt off the couch and ran for the door, grabbing my hand as he went and towing me after him. It was safer to hide in the bedroom.

Apparently Scott wasn’t the only victim of the slime pranks. Alan had gotten rather creative. He had sneezed goo on Gordon and had mixed up a new batch that included peas and chopped up carrots and was a lovely yellow colour which he had dropped on the floor of Two’s cockpit at Virgil’s feet after making a series of increasingly violent retching noises. Jeff has yet to discover that there is blue slime in the soap dispenser in his bathroom. I dread to think where else it’s going to turn up. But what I do know is that Alan had better avoid Scott for the next few days, because that’s going to leave a bruise.

#alan tracy #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds fanfiction #isolation island #social isolation #isolation #self isolating #thunderbirds in isolation

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 4 years

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Psycho Analysis: Roman Sionis

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

Birds of Prey is a fun, silly movie. So you’d expect a fun, silly villain for such a film, right? Well, we sort of get that… but this is an R-rated fun, silly movie, so the villain is going to cuss a lot and peel people’s faces off and be a raging psychopathic manchild. Roman Sionis, everybody!

Good old Roman Sionis, known to comic fans as Black Mask (he isn’t ever called that by anyone except Harley during his introduction, and he doesn’t even wear his mask until the end), is just an absolute raging lunatic. He gets mad at the drop of a hat, is creepily posessive of Dinah Lance, has a very close relationship with his murderous second-in-command Zsasz, and is just generally unpleasant to every single person who crosses his path.

But that’s par for the course for Roman Sionis, who is never really EVER portrayed as a charming, likable guy. The real question here is, is he an entertaining villain? Well he’s played by Ewan McGregor, what do YOU think?

Motivation/Goals: Roman is a relatively simple villain, but I think this works in his favor. You see, a big issue with Harley’s previous outing, Suicide Squad, is that the mission was way too high stakes despite the cast featuring a group of people who didn’t really have any powers beyond “fighting really good.” or “has weapon skills.” You’re telling me you’re gonna put Harley Quinn, Deadshot, and Captain Boomerang up against Enchantress and her army of ancient Aztec super-zombies? WHAT? Here, we have a street-level threat much more suited to Harley’s capabilities: Roman is just a very powerful gangster, and his goal in this movie is the simple “get this diamond that was stolen back to me so I can make fat stacks of cash.” That’s really all their needs to be here, a simple MacGuffin to drive along the plot to its various setpieces.

Performance: I love Ewan McGregor, so, really, he didn’t have to do much with the role of Roman Sionis to make him great. Still, this man went above and beyond despite having comparatively little screentime to Harley. Roman seems incapable of going a single sentence without cursing up a storm and is the epitome of a psychopathic manchild, tormenting people for the slightest of reasons. He forces a woman to strip and dance on one of his tables because she was laughing too loud when he was upset, and decides not to spare a girl’s life because she had a gross snot bubble on her face from sobbing while he had his crony Zsasz peel off her parents’ faces. As funny and hammy as he gets, the dude is a stone-cold ruthless bastard who has no line he won’t cross to get what he wants.

Final Fate: Cass hides a grenade on him and steals the ring, and then Harley kicks him off the pier while he panics. Before he even hits the water, BOOM! Never would I have expected to laugh out loud at the sight of Ewan McGregor being blown into bits, but this movie was just full of surprises.

Best Scene: I think that the honor has to go to his establishing character moment with Zsasz, as they cut off the faces of a family who crossed Roman, and then when Roman decides to spare the daughter, he notices snot on her face, says “Ew” like a petulant child, and has Zsasz cut her face off anyway. It’s a great way to establish that Roman is an awful human being no matter how you slice it, and firmly establishes that while, yes, he is a misogynist villain in a female-led blockbuster, his misogyny is just a tiny facet of how unabashedly terrible Roman is.

Final Thoughts & Score: So, this is gonna sound weird, but… Roman kinda reminded me of Justin Hammer. Hammer is a villain who I have greatly warmed to over time (mostly thanks to Nando V Movies on YouTube), to the point where I think he’s actually pretty funny but is held back from true greatness by the sloppy nature of Iron Man 2. The film was big, bloated, and didn’t know what to do with itself. And this film is KIND OF like that… but it knows what to do with Roman.

The movie has an undercurrent of female empowerment, so why not make the villain emblematic of things women have to overcome? Roman is creepy, misogynistic, and even a bit racist especially with his condescending actions towards Dinah. And he even throws a fit when she “betrays” him and decides to murder her. But the movie is smart so as to not make this hamfisted; the movie makes it entirely clear that even if you take away his misogynistic elements, Roman Sionis is just an utterly disgusting human being. Everything about him is just so hilariously vulgar and repulsive, but the way he’s performed helps lighten it and help keep him within the tone of the movie. He’s just dark enough and just hammy enough to work.

My big issues with Roman are mostly due to his utilization and the wasted potential, which is a problem that really hits a lot of stuff in Birds of Prey. He is great every time he’s onscreen, but his screentime is fairly limited, and then he dies at the end which robs him of any chance of coming back in the future as an antagonist. He actually functions great as a more grounded threat rather than some larger-than-life end of the world threat, but the fact he dies horribly – before even having his mask burned onto his face, even! - just kind of feels like a waste of a character. To be fair, Black Mask is not the best or most interesting Batman villain crime lord; we have the Penguin for that. But when you cast someone like Ewan McGregor and he’s clearly having a blast, it’s hard not to feel at least slightly bitter when he gets hilariously gibbed at the end.

Still, I can’t let Justin Hammer’s sacrifice go in vain; he walked so Roman could run, and Roman ran so that perhaps someday Hammer could sprint. Roman gets a nice, fat 8/10, which he definitely earns with the heaping helpings of ham he brings to the table, though he is held back at least a little by the wasted potential of his character.

But hey, if you want to talk about wasted potential…

Psycho Analysis: Victor Zsasz

I really like Victor Zsasz in this film. I really do. The angle they went with, the implied homosexuality, the actor… it’s all good stuff that helps make a disturbing character like Zsasz easier to swallow. But he gets hit with wasted potential harder than even Roman does.

Motivation/Goals: He’s Roman’s right-hand man, so basically his motivation is to do whatever Roman wants him to do. However, there is a bit of an implied thing between his boss and him; Zsasz seems undeniably irritated with the attention he lavishes on Dinah, and is very hands-on and affectionate with his boss. A lot of his later actions in the film and his cruelty towards Dinah does seem to stem from some place of anger towards her for taking Roman’s attention away from him.

Performance: I have to say, Chris Messina does a stellar job at portraying Zsasz as creepy and obsessive, and certainly showcases the fanatical loyalty he has towards Roman, making him something of a dark mirror to Harley’s former relationship with the Joker. I also appreciate that, despite not going with Zsasz’s original psychotic serial killer angle, they still made him a bloodthirsty psycho with a sort of nihilistic edge to him. Frankly, this might be the best possible take on a live-action Zsasz without things getting intensely uncomfortable.

Final Fate: This is probably the worst element of Zsasz: his death. Right before the climax he gets shot out of the blue by Huntress and then Harley just repeatedly stabs him with the arrow. And I have to make it clear here – Zsasz barely got to do anything. He never really poses any sort of physical threats to the heroines, never gets into a fight, and is never mentioned again after his death despite being very close to Roman (to the point where the two may have been lovers).

Final Thoughts & Score: As far as henchmen go, Zsasz is pretty solid conceptually. He’s established early on as a psychopathic enforcer of Roman’s gang, he has an eerie air to him, and he has a lot of elements from the comics you rarely see on Zsasz in other media, such as being blonde. Messina does a fantastic job at making the character seem like a competent killer in the employ of Roman.

But the key word is “seem,” because Zsasz frankly never lives up to his hype. Despite being introduced peeling the faces off of a family, he is just never utilized to his fullest extent. He’s kind of just there in a lot of scenes, and while he isn’t unmemorable or anything he never really does anything that makes him into a worthwhile addition to the franchise. He’s honestly just a glorified mook with a few interesting gimmicks to help set him apart.

I’ve gotta give him a 6/10. While he’s definitely a step above average, he’s really not anything amazing, mostly because the movie refuses to allow him to reach his full potential. He doesn’t have any great quotes, his most memorable scene really serves more to establish Roman than anything, and he is dumped and quickly forgotten right before the climax. He would easily be a 7 or 8 if the story treated him with a little more weight or respect, but he just ends up underwhelming despite having so much going for him, and it’s frankly a bit depressing. It’s just a very sad state of affairs for the character, especially when he managed to be more intimidating in the Arkham games despite the fact that he posed even less of a physical threat than he does here.

Well, while we’re here, let’s go over THAT Zsasz briefly.

Portrayed in the games by Danny Jacobs (who you may know as Sacha Baron Cohen's stand in on The Penguins of Madagascar. Yes, Zsasz and King Julien had the same voice actor.), Zsasz is never really a major antagonist and is, in all honesty, a pretty weak fighter; you can always take him down in one punch. The thing with Zsasz in the games, though, is that it’s always tricky to get to him, because he usually has hostages of some kind. In Arkham Asylum, he appears twice, and you need to use stealth to take him out before he kills his hostages. In City, he gets a much longer sidequest where he requires you to pick up ringing telephones and then glide to another one across the city within a time limit. Once you’ve listened to all of his messages, Batman finds out where his lair is, sneaks through it, and whoops his ass.

I certainly can’t say he’s the best villain in either game he appears in, but he’s definitely scary. His messages and game over screens are really freaky and unnerving, and the Riddler even requires you to find some of Zsasz’s work as parts of riddles… and by “work” I am of course referring to corpses posed in life-like positions. There’s also the horrifying little tidbit that in City, Zsasz actually does kill one of his hostages and there’s nothing that can be done about it; if you switch to detective mode in his lair, you can see a corpse at the bottom of the water in the room.

I think how creepy and intense he is really helps make him stand out among the more colorful characters in those games like Joker, Clayface, and Riddler, so I think giving him a nice 8/10 for his appearances is well-earned. I feel like Birds of Prey could have learned a few lessons from this portrayal; if they wanted to make him more creepy than physically intimidating, that could have worked well and it would have made his anti-climactic defeat a bit more plausible. Instead, they kind of tried this middle ground where he’s creepy enough and intimidating enough physically that it just feels like a letdown when he’s offed.

Oh yeah, did you know he appeared in Batman Begins? He had a brief cameo and didn’t do anything significant and looked like this:

Pretty sure he’d get a low score if he wasn’t just a quick little reference.

#Psycho Analysis #Roman Sionis #Birds of Prey #birds of prey (and the fantabulous emancipation of one harley quinn)#Ewan McGregor #victor zsasz #Chris Messina #Danny Jacobs #Arkham series #Batman

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orangeoctopi7 · 4 years

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A Little Scare

@forduary week 2 is trust/paranoia, so here’s a little feral!Ford fic.

***

“Grunkle Stan, you promised you’d take us to the grocery store!” Mabel complained.

“Yeah, well that was before I broke my toe tripping over your hot glue gun.”

Stan was sitting in his recliner, both feet up, while Ford applied some sort of special cream to the swollen, blackened toe in question. The kids stood between him and the TV, determined not to let their Grunkle just relax and watch TV until they got what they wanted.

“But I still have another dozen cookies to make for tonight’s human-gnome relations seminar, and we’re all out of eggs and milk!”

“And I’m out of ball-point pens!” Dipper added.

“Look, kids, Ford says I gotta stay off my foot for the next 24 hours if his incredible cure-all is gonna work. Otherwise I’m gonna be in a boot for the rest of the month, and nobody wants that. Why can’t you just ask Soos to take you once tours are done for the day?”

“Because he doesn’t finish until six, and the seminar starts at 6:30!”

“You know, Stan, I could take them.” Ford offered.

Stan gave his brother a skeptical glance. “You sure about that, Poindexter? Remember what happened last time?”

Ford rolled his eyes. “That was last fall! I’ve made a lot of progress keeping my cool in social situations.”

“Yeah, in open-air markets, not a cramped little grocery store.”

“You know what? I’m going to take them, just to prove to you that I can!” Ford huffed.

“Alright, fine. ‘Snot like I can stop you. But take Soos’s truck. There’s no way I’m lettin’ you drive my car.”

“Fine.”

“Yay!” The kids cheered, following Ford into the hall.

Stan caught hold of Dipper’s vest as the boy passed.

“Hey, kid, do me a favor? Just stick close to Ford while you’re at the store, alright?”

Dipper nodded. “Sure thing, Grunkle Stan.”

***

“I don’t see why Stanley is so insistent that I can’t drive his car.” Ford complained as he pulled into the parking lot. “I got us here without incident.”

“Well, you did end up on the curb a handful of times.” Mabel pointed out.

“And narrowly avoided a collision with a car parked on the side of the road.”

“Avoided being the operative word.” Ford insisted. “And don’t try and tell me Stan’s any better.”

“True.” the kids agreed.

The grocery store wasn’t terribly busy, but Gravity Falls wasn’t a big town, so that was to be expected. As soon as they entered, Mabel led them into the dairy section to get her eggs and milk. They were both located in the back corner of the store. Stanford found himself tensing as he walked down a cold aisle filled with different kinds of cheese, butter, cream, milk, and eggs. He couldn’t see the other people in there with them, couldn’t see what they were doing, couldn’t see the exit--

It’s fine. He told himself. It’s just a grocery store. People are just here to get food.

“Welp, I gotta go get some girl stuff.” Mabel declared once she’d loaded her carton of eggs into the grocery cart. “See you guys at the checkout!” She sauntered off to the other end of the store, quickly lost from Ford’s sight among all the displays of soda cans and snack cakes.

“She’ll be ok.” Dipper assured his uncle, slipping his tiny hand into the scientist’s larger one. Ford immediately blushed. Was his discomfort that obvious?

Dipper led Ford to the office supplies, where they grabbed a packet of nice blue ink pens. It really wasn’t that bad, he kept telling himself. Sure, he was tense, he was on high-alert, even higher because Mabel had wandered off on her own, but he could handle it. It would be fine.

It would have been fine, if not for the spill.

They were passing through the frozen aisle when someone behind them pulled out a big bag of frozen peas. Unfortunately, the bag had frozen together with its neighbor, and when one was pulled out, it tried to take the second bag with it, leading to a rip. Two bags full of frozen peas spilled onto the floor, making a cacophony of pinging, tinkling sounds. Tiny ice crystals flew up in the air as the peas shattered. Ford’s hairs stood on end as the cold flecks showered them. As the rapid-fire shattering assaulted his ears.

Suddenly, Ford wasn’t in the grocery store. He was in the ice fields of Raretania 2, with a pack of cryokinetic creatures on his tail. Icicles grew on them like spines, and when they wanted to take down a meal, they could shoot the ice shards like a porcupine on steroids.

The old researcher scooped up his nephew and began frantically searching for a place to hide. Outrunning these things wasn't an option, when they could shoot their icicles with such speed and accuracy. These aisles were barren of any real cover. All they did was hide whatever was on the other side. However, Ford did notice a few feet of space between the top of the freezers and the ceiling. That could work.

He more-or-less threw Dipper up onto the freezers before scaling them himself. A quick survey of the area showed they had lost their pursuers for now. But someone was still in immediate danger.

"Where's your sister!?" Ford hissed quietly to Dipper, who was still sputtering after being thrown up here like a pile of dirty laundry.

"Wh-- probably the cosmetics aisle, I dunno! What's--"

"We need to get to her before they do."

"They who?"

"I don't know if they have an actual name on the planet they're from. I always just called them Iciquills. Suffice to say, they're extremely dangerous, so we need to find Mabel and warn her. Now come on, we can probably jump to the next shelf from here."

Rather than be concerned, Dipper just latched onto his uncle's leg, stopping him from leaping. "Great Uncle Ford, no! You'll just hurt yourself! Or at the very least make a huge mess!"

"That hardly matters in this situation! We need to find Mabel without drawing their attention."

"Mabel's not in danger! We're not in danger! Stop and think! Why would Iciquills be here, at the grocery store? How would Iciquills be at the grocery store?"

Every cell in Ford's body was screaming at him to act before it was too late. But he knew if there was any real danger, Dipper wouldn't just brush it off like this. And when he stopped to think about it, no, it didn't make any logical sense.

"But… but I heard it! The sound of their quills just missing a target! I felt the breaking ice on the backs of my legs!"

"Oh. I guess that was pretty scary, when you put it like that." Dipper grimaced. "But I promise, it was just an accident! Someone dropped their peas. Look!" The boy pointed to the back of his uncle's pant legs. Tiny flecks of thawing peas stuck there.

Ford's heart sank, and his face burned red with embarrassment. He'd come here to prove Stanley wrong, and instead did just the opposite. Now he wanted to hide up here for completely different reasons.

"The longer we stay up here, the more embarrassing it's gonna get." Dipper suggested.

Ford nodded mutely, and swung his legs over the top of the freezer, dropping the last few feet with a light "oof" before helping Dipper down. Luckily, the only person who'd seen the whole debacle was the guy who'd dropped the peas in the first place: Wendy's tall friend, Lee. He seemed to know better than to make a scene, and just waved meekly.

"Dude, I'm so sorry."

"No, no, I'm sorry." Ford reflected.

"Come on, let's see if Mabel's done." Dipper suggested.

They found her in the cosmetics aisle, like Dipper had expected, comparing two brands of lip-balm. She noticed their soured moods almost immediately.

"Is something wrong? What happened?"

"I'll tell you in the car." Dipper assured her. "Let's just buy our stuff and go."

After rushing through the checkout line, they piled back into Soos's truck and headed home. Dipper filled Mabel in on Ford's scare. To the old man's credit, he did his best to laugh it off now that it had passed.

"I'd appreciate it if you two didn't mention that to Stan."

Mabel and Dipper shared a wicked glance. "Well, it's gonna take a lot of chocolate to make us forget that." The colorful girl said.

#Gravity Falls #Fanfiction #Forduary 2020 #Stanford Pines #My writing

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gracie-p8-officialblog · 5 years

Text

Spilling Tea On Phantom of the Opera 2004

DISCLAIMER: I just want to say from the start that it is not my intention to offendanyone, you're entitled to your opinions and I'm allowed to have mine...

Ok, so, I just watched this movie a few days ago on my laptop and it was pretty much my first time sitting through the movie. I watched a few clips of the movie on YouTube but... Then, I decided to watch the whole movie. And this was my reaction.

Don't get me wrong! There WERE parts I liked but... That was just half of the movie... But overall... Um... It was meh. Ahem. Down to business!

My opinion on Gerard Butler as the Phantom? Um, wow. And not in a good way. I feel like this was a case of a talented performer being grossly miscast as the Phantom. I think this Tumblr post best describes on what I thought of his singing.

"He's supposed to have the voice of an angel, but it sounds like he's been gargling vinegar" ~Quoted by @faded-florals

Don't get me wrong. His voice is quite good for an untrained singer but... The Phantom is one of the biggest musical theatre roles of all time! It's right up there with Jean Valjean. It's really not a role that could go a competent singer, someone who's never sang professionally before but could be good once they've been trained up a bit. The role demands a truly great singer... And he wasn't right for the part.

His voice felt too strainy, growly and rock-ish for the Phantom. I didn't like how Joel Schumacher bought into the whole "sexy Phantom" thing and cast a hunky heart-throb, who was nowhere near disfigured enough. It's meant to be a gothic thriller novel with a small romantic subplot, not a B-grade vampire romance movie!

As for Emmy Rossum as Miss Christine Daae... it's true, her voice is good. She should know though, should she wish to excel, she has MUCH still to learn (Heeeeehee. Sorry. Couldn't resist.)

Emmy's Christine had little-to-no character growth and personality but I don't think it reflects her as an actress, but reflects more on the director and casting director because of how young she was (but more on that later)

Not only that, her Christine was SIGNIFICANTLY dumbed down and oversexualized. I mean, the entire point of the story is that Christine grows strong enough to overcome the trauma of an abusive relationship and make sure that her abuser never hurts anyone ever again but still shows the Phantom compassion and sympathy. I mean, her story arc is her becoming strong-willed enough to overcome the Phantom's pull/spell/enchantment/hypnosis or whatever you percieve it as on her! And don't get me started on her costumes because of the SEVERE lack of modesty.

The chemistry was a little flat because she was underage and her two male love interests were both in their 30s (which totally isn't HER fault, of course, but the directors could easily have cast someone else older)

Her voice, too, strikes me as being much too young and undeveloped. She has a very pretty, sweet-sounding quality to her singing but she doesn't sound rich and operatic enough to be a convincing Christine. Rebecca Caine and Amy Manford do the best job of singing the way I think Christine ought to sound- a maturing opera voice! Though POTO is NOT an opera (you wouldn't believe how many people actually think it is...), it does revolve around opera, and Christine is an opera singer, not a pop star.

And now onto... Everyone's favourite vicomte!!!!!!

C'mon people, put your bottles down. It is a truth universally acknowledged (or at least in the wee Raoul Defense Squad Circle) that Raoul is one of the greatest and most underrated boyfriends to ever exist in musical theatre and it's almost impossible to hate him because of how relatable he is.

Ladies, puh-leeze. He's much more relatable than you admit and face it, we all have a little bit of Raoul in us. Failure to see things staring us in the face, saying or doing the wrong thing at the wrong time, having a 'see it to believe it' attitude when we have little-to-no evidence on something... yeah, don't pretend you don't see a trend. Raoul is relatable whether we want him to be or not.

My thoughts on Patrick Wilson as Raoul, he was one of the few redeeming qualities of this not so great movie. Yeah, the swordfight and Tarzan leaps were a little too much but can you blame him?! And though I feel like that foppish wig made him look more like a magic elf prince than a vicomte, he couldn't control that!

His Raoul was so gentle and caring! Yeah, his acting was a bit stiff but at least his voice wasn't a chore to listen to, it has this warm, tender, comforting quality to it which suits Raoul. I really loved the way he sang "Don't throw away your life for my sake" and "I fought so hard to free you" in the Final Lair (😭😭😭) It feels like Raoul is genuinely apologising to Christine.

I know, I know... The Hadley Fraser fans are approaching with menacing expressions as we speak but let me clarify. I still think Hadley is amazing but... His Raoul kinda felt a little too shouty for me and his Raoul was closer to the LND-canon than POTO-canon (not his fault though).

Miranda Richardson (aka. Rita Skeeter) as Madame Giry is kind of weird. I mean, I know Madame Giry's supposed to be a little Strange and Mysterious. But this Mme. wasn't really Strange or Mysterious at all, or even slightly Spooky at all. She was just kind of an oddball. Popping up in random places to give warnings about the Phantom and looking at people as if she were questioning their life choices or something. As for her daughter... well, Jennifer Ellison's Meg was so-so. She's got a sweet-sounding voice and that added scene where she looked for Christine in the lair was a nice touch... But... Her Meg was kinda forgettable and uninteresting. Meg is supposed to prance around shrieking that the Phantom of the Opera is here, not whisper it in a blase manner that you half expect to be followed up with, "by the way, what's for lunch?" Not to mention, she rivaled Christine as far as low-necked costumes went.

Minnie Driver as Carlotta was spot on! Yes, I know she didn't sing the score but her acting was alright. She was very over-the-top and self-centered, which is great for Carlotta, but I felt her portrayal was a little too childish to be accurate. Carlotta is a successful middle-aged diva who's willing to scream and storm when she doesn't get her way, but she isn't a two-year-old pouting and throwing tantrums. (Yes, there's a difference.)

Ciaran Hinds and Simon Callow played Firmin and Andre, respectively. Their managers kinda felt like twits and nothing more. Also, Firmin's masquerade costume was ridiculous. The stupid kind, not the funny kind. ...Well, okay, it was a little funny.

I'm not going to touch on every song here, but I will say that "Hannibal" was beyond awful (if you thought the costumes in the stage version were a bit risque, you should see the movie ones- no, actually you shouldn't) and that "Think of Me," while very nice, was not particularly memorable. Christine's dress, however (despite its less-than-ideal neckline) was GORGEOUS, even though it looks completely out of place in a musical that supposedly takes place in ancient Alexandria.

"Little Lotte" kinda lost its charm by being spoken instead of sung. And Gerard Butler's voice in "The Mirror" was too rough and raspy for my ears and made me cringe in sympathetic shame. The title song was like a cheesy, campy B-grade horror movie tbh, trying way too hard to be spooky and chilling ("ooh, look, Phantom's Lair! It's DARK and SCARY down here!") and succeeding only in being cringeworthy. Not that I've actually ever seen a bad horror movie- or any horror movie at all, for that matter. Unless you count this one.

Christine's costume, too, annoyed me no end. She was basically wearing a corset and drawers under the dressing gown. *facepalm* The dressing gown is supposed to go OVER your COSTUME to keep it CLEAN, peeps. It's not a BATHROBE. And the amount of eye makeup she had on would terrify a raccoon. Yikes.

Though I liked the random horse because of its nod to the Leroux novel.

"Music of the Night" was so blah-slash-touchy-feely that it made me summarily uncomfortable.

I'd like to be able to say something nice about "I remember/Stranger than you dreamt it" but I have none. One thing that bugged me to no end was how Christine is no longer wearing stockings, like dude, that gives some GROSS implications. Anyways, let's skip to Il Muto!

Oh, but first I should say that "Notes" was rather a flop and that "Prima Donna" is unmemorable and indeed should probably be fast-forwarded as there's a rather unsavory bit involving a crew member showing the audience what he thinks of Carlotta's behaviour.

"Il Muto," I must say, was pretty doggone funny. Carlotta's "Your part is silent. Leetle toad," cracked me up into a bunch of giggling little pieces, and the little vignette of the Phantom tinkering with Carlotta's throat spray made her croaking later on a lot more believable.

Now for "All I Ask Of You", SQUEEEEEE!!!!!!!!! I honestly can't understand how anyone could listen to this song and still maintain that Christine and Raoul don't belong together. He represents everything she needs- stability, protection, a guiding hand and affirmed affection. She represents everything he needs, in turn- someone to show affection to and his childhood friend.

One thing I definitely think could have been left out was the scene in which Erik kills Buquet- we totally did not need to see him being chased, terrified, through the rafters and finally strangled. Gross.

And the Phantom and his rose crouching behind that statue... I think this was supposed to be sad, but there was too much snot mixed with tears for it to be sad. It was, again, gross. So was Gerard Butler's pathetic attempt at the "all that the Phantom asked of you" line. And the lack of a chandelier crash in that scene made the song anticlimactic.

And "Masquerade" was so-so but... The Phantom's entrance is anticlimactic somehow, and his Red Death costume (if indeed it's supposed to even BE the Red Death) is unimpressive. I don't like how Raoul just runs off to desert Christine as soon as things start looking ugly (yes, I realize he was going to get his sword, but still... something could have happened to her while he was gone. Duh, did this guy learn anything from "Little Lotte/The Mirror"? Just sayin)

As for Madame Giry's flashback immediately following, I like how it gives us some of the Phantom's backstory, but it seems really abrupt. You don't even realize until she's done that she was talking to Raoul the whole time- it sounds like she's just randomly reminiscing about Stuff, and if you didn't know the story you might be sitting there thinking, "who is this strange woman again?"

Also, Christine leaving wherever-it-is at, like, five in the morning to go to who-knows-where, completely oblivious to the fact that the Phantom is driving her. Whaaaaaaaaa? How'd he know she was planning to go for a graveyard stroll? Was he watching her through the mirror again? THAT'S JUST CREEPY.

"Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again" was rather mediocre and dulled down the fact that it is a Christine Empowerment™ song. Why, exactly, does Christine's father have the biggest monument in the cemetery? If he were a rich and famous violinist as his crypt seems to suggest, why on earth was his daughter struggling along as a chorus girl taking free music lessons?

The swordfight... Well... I had mixed feelings about it. Sword fights are all well and good, but... The swordfight takes away the element of mysterious danger to the Phantom. Okay, fine, Christine getting Raoul to spare the Phantom's life is a nice touch, I guess, but did it strike no one else that his "now let it be war upon you BOTH" makes absolutely NO sense after that? If she just saved his life, why would he suddenly be all, "thanks, but no thanks, I'M GOING TO MURDER YOUUUUUUUUUU"?

And "Twisted Every Way" was after "Wishing" which made ZERO sense. Plus, I didn't like how they cut most of it because in the musical, it gave Christine a spine!

"Point of No Return"? Hooooooo boy....... There are so many things wrong with this number. Let's just a list a few.

*HOW did no one recognise the Phantom through his "disguise"?! At least in the stage play, it made more sense because of how he was wearing a cloak that obscured most of his body.

*Christine's sleeves falling down over and over again were REALLY annoying.

*It was just too touchy-feely for my taste.

*The fact that Emmy Rossum was a teenager during filming made this scene gross because of the way they oversexualized Christine in this scene.

*Gerard Butler's voice in that scene made me cringe and shake my head in sympathetic shame.

*In the stage play, Christine ran from him, showing her own agenda and resistance to his pull! While in the movie, she didn't resist him!

*Now for the one that took the cake... The disfigurement! Or it would be a disfigurement if it actually made him look, y'know, deformed. Instead, as several people have put it, he looks like he got a bad sunburn or something. It's really rather pathetic. It makes him look more like a drama queen than he already is! Yeah.... I really don't like this movie.

On to... Final Lair!!!!!!!! It was a flop. From Raoul's whining and flailing around and his stringy hair flopping about (shallow complaint, I know, but it's so ugly) to Christine's sappy melodramatic "don't make me choooooooose" faces to the Phantom's prancing around with his ropes and maniacal laughter that somehow wasn't really scary at all... yeah, it was a flop. A major, major flop. And though The Kiss wasn't all that bad, all I could think of was, "She's SIXTEEN! SIX! TEEN! THIS IS CREEPY, DISTURBING AND GROSS!"

Which is why it's so difficult for me to admit that, um, I... cried at the end.

I COULDN'T HELP IT GUYS HE WAS ALL ALONE THERE IN HIS LAKE WITH HIS MONKEY AND HIS SMASHED MIRRORS AND HE WAS CRYING AND IT WAS SAD.

And then that rose on the gravestone? That single red rose? And the look on Old Raoul's face (still Patrick Wilson, by the way, under all that makeup) when he saw it and realized he wasn't the only one visiting Christine's grave? Yup, I lost it again there, too. And I really didn't want to. Because I tend to cry over movies I love, y'know? And I didn't love this movie. At all

Yet I still cried at the end. I'm not really sure why. I think perhaps it had something to do with the way the story still "got" me, deep down inside, despite the lousy casting and less-than-perfect singing and ridiculously unnecessary elements that totally didn't need to be there. It's still a tragically beautiful romance, and even a bad film can't kill that.

In conclusion, I think Mary Poppins can best express what I thought of POTO 2004.

In conclusion, I rate it a 2.7/5

#Grace spills tea #grace speaks #poto 2004 #phantom of the opera musical #phantom of the opera #the phantom of the opera #Phantom of the opera 2004 #movie review #my reviews

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amwritesstuff · 5 years

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Pop the Bubble

I’ve had this idea bouncing around for a really powerful quirk that's deceptively labeled 'Bubbles’.

I'm thinking about making a little story regarding it, and still might after I've caught up on all my other writing things, but for now, have this little shot that kicked me awake from a deep sleep the other morning.

It had been slow. Too slow. Wa-ay too slow. Literally nothing had been happening for three god damn weeks. And Ground Zero was about to blow a fucking fuse.

Said Hero sat at his desk, head buried in his arms to keep himself from glancing at the clock for the nth time that day. He was caught up in all his paperwork and had organized it in six different ways. The most exciting thing on the news for the past few days was the multiple births of some panda cubs. He had even gone through his social media pages but quit after an hour of being bombarded with notifications he couldn't give two shits about.

He grunted when a knock rattled his desk, having a pretty good idea who it was. “Hey, man,” yep, Kirishima. “I know things are not your speed right now, but you've got to at least look busy.”

“With what?” He picked his head up enough to peak out. “I've done everything. Fuck, I even went to a couple of the interns to see if they needed anything.”

Kirishima looked away in thought. “Huh, that explains it…”

“... Explains what?”

“Oh!” Bakugou narrowed his eyes at Kirishima's knowing smile. “I overheard some of them talking about how they thought they weren't doing a good enough job because a Hero demand they give up some of their workload. Might need to talk to them about it. They're kinda stressing themselves out…”

“They're interns. They need a fire lite under their asses every now and then to keep'em on their toes,” he put his head back down. It was blissfully quiet for a moment; nothing but the static of office background. Until Kirishima opened his stupid mouth again.

“We could go spar?”

The blond heaved a sigh as he stood, reaching for his gauntlets. “I can only pummel your sorry ass so many times. Think I'll just go on patrol. Grab a bite while I'm out.”

“Oh, cool! I'll come with! Not like I'm doing anything either.”

The outside was just as uneventful as the inside had been in terms of excitement. However, it was outside, among fresh air and the bustle of city life, so it was better. The Heroes had been stopped by fans a few times during their route, but beyond that, they might as well have been off duty.

“I can't believe this… I came to this location because crime is higher. What gives!” Kirishima nudged his friend in warning to keep his voice down.

“Dude, I know it's boring, but don't complain! Being bored in our line of work is a good thing! Enjoy it while it lasts.”

He was right, Bakugou knew that. There a small fraction of him that was genuinely glad things were as peaceful as they currently were. He was just so done with being cooped up at his desk, not doing anything. As much as he despised doing them, he was actually contemplating setting up some interviews that he had previously turned down.

A panicked voice carrying over the city sounds gained his attention. He caught sight of a frantic woman through the crowd, calling out and looking every which way. Before he or his companion could fully turn to approach her, she spotted them, nearly knocking people over in her rush to get to them.

“Please!” She latched onto Red Riot, who had been closer. “Please! My baby! Please! I c-can't-” she choked on her own babbling sobs.

“Whoa, whoa! Slow down! Take a breath! We can't help if you can't tell us what's wrong!” Bakugou couldn't help but be grateful that the redhead was the one she had got to first. Kirishima's natural way with people, even in stressful situations, he would never cease to be a bit envious of. The woman calmed after a few gulps of air. “Alright, now, what's happened? What about your baby?”

“I-I can't find them! We were over by the pet stall in the outdoor market and I let go of their hand to dig in my purse for just a second!” She hiccuped, becoming increasingly more hysterical. “They didn't answer my calls or make any sounds! They're sh-shy so they always stay close-close to me wh-when we go out anywhere, and they weren't under any of the t-tables, o-or- or-”

Kirishima caught her in a strong embrace as she started to crumble. He gave comforting words as he and Bakugou shared a look. It wasn't unusual for small children to wander away from their parents. Not even for a shy kid that would normally stick to their parents’ side if something got their attention. It was what might've gotten enough of their attention to wander far enough out of range that was worrisome.

Kirishima pulled the woman back enough to make eye contact, beaming that sunshine smile of his. “Don’t worry, ma'am! I'm sure they just got distracted and are fine. Can you tell us what they look like?”

She sniffled, seeming to be taking to Red Riots words. “They're not yet five, wearing a-” her head snapped away as several loud bangs and screams rang out. The woman was trying to escape Kirishima's grasp to run in the direction people were running from. The outdoor market.

Bakugou was already moving, now feeling like shit for complaining about being bored as a massive explosion rang out. A kid was missing and it was looking like a villain might be involved with it. He swore as he blasted his way above the crowd.

The area was scarce save for a few stragglers and shop keepers that were too stubborn to leave their wares. Bakugou spun in place once he landed, getting the layout and where the potential threat might be. He saw nothing as he ran in a direction. He skid to a stop upon turning a corner, taking in the destruction.

Stalls, furniture, and goods were piled on either side of the street, into large circular indents made into side building walls. There were items that looked as though they had been flattened into the ground, the concrete cracked and bowing inward. Like something had forced everything back from a center point. There were more of these indents farther down, though on much smaller scales and not as impactful. Now, he just needed to find the asshole responsible for all this.

A sound of sucking air coming from behind caused him to spin on his heel, hand out and crackling with carefully restrained power. He was still aware that a kid was missing; an easy go to for a hostage. Only, there was no one behind him. But there was a transparent orb that he almost missed, gently floating at about eye level.

He kept his hands up, on guard for any movement as he slowly made his way over. He stopped a little more than arm's length from it. This close it looked more like a bubble, a bit bigger than his head. No one was around.

“Goddamnit- WHERE ARE YOU HIDING-!?”

BANG

He was blown back from a forceful gale. He managed to stay on his feet, whipping around for the source. The bubble was gone and in its place was a new crack in the street. The source of the destruction. But where were they coming from?

The same sound of sucking air came a little ways off, above him. He spotted the bubble, sitting there oh so innocently, just seeable against the sky. Several more appeared, growing into existence like someone was blowing up balloons. There were no more than two at a time. When a new one appeared, a previous one would loudly pop in an expulsion of air. They were moving up.

His eyes followed ahead of the path they were making- There! A figure hovering high above the low buildings. That was either the missing kid or the villain responsible, much farther away. The way he was lead to see them made a voice in his mind scream trap. However, Bakugou was not one for idle standing by to work things through. He was best when doing in the moment.

He wasted little time blasting his way up, the figure quickly growing closer. He allowed momentum to carry him upward, just past them to give himself enough time to see what he was dealing with. He hung in the air above them for less than a few seconds, but it was enough.

A small child was in a bubble just big enough for them, bawling hysterically, desperately reaching for him as he began to drop. There wasn't a sound coming from them. The bubble might very well be soundproof, which would explain why no one had heard the no doubt ear-shattering screams they were making. Bakugou was in slight relief. The kid was found, scared out of their mind, but seemingly unharmed… but where the hell was the villain? He didn't know if he could get them out of that bubble without causing them harm. Then there was the matter of safely getting them down-

The bubble holding the kid popped suddenly, knocking Bakugou away as the kids scream dropped past him.

Panic in his belly and heart in his throat, Bakugou shot after them. He had just managed to grab onto them when another, bigger bubble appeared around the kid, engulfing his hands and half of his gauntlets in with them. The bubble came to a stop in midair, Bakugou following after, gravity causing him to roll until he was dangling under it. His arms felt as though they were being pulled out of their sockets from the abrupt stop. How the fuck was this holding him?!

Taking a quick glance down, he saw they were still a good ways from the ground. He looked back up into the bubble. The kid was looking at him through tears, snot, and spit, mouthing something he could just hear but not make out, gripping onto his hand like a vice. He couldn't say he blamed them. Hanging this high in the air with no control or anything to hold on to was not a pleasant position to be in.

It was in that moment, when he realized the kid was apologizing, did a thought strike him.

”They're not yet five…”

His eyes widened upon noticing the bubble quiver. “Oh, fucking hell-"

He was more ready for the blast this time. The kid had one hell of a grip on his hand, thankfully. With the help of his feet, he managed to get the gauntlet off the arm not attached to the kid, flinging it away. He pulled them in close, securing them to his chest with his naked arm, making sure their face was buried into his neck.

He yelled for the kid to close their eyes and hang on tight, little arms nearly choking him being the only clue he got that they'd heard. He turned his body to face the ground that was quickly approaching. He might have spotted movement below him, but the smoke from the painfully massive one-handed explosion blocked his view.

Blast after blast he let out, desperately trying to slow down in time. His arm was screaming in strain, the explosions becoming weaker. The only plan that seemed to be on repeat was to land on his back to minimize damage to the kid, but slow down enough so he would receive minimum damage. He thought that a voice came to his ear, but with the roaring wind and his own rapid pulse, he wasn't sure.

He paused in his explosions, needing to see how close to the ground they were. Too close. He started to turn and shift the kid as they fell past the top of the nearest building. He barely comprehended a figure standing there.

He shut his eyes, bracing for impact when something wrapped around his torso multiple times. They were jerked, being pulled to fall at an arch rather than straight down. He felt the heels of his boots drag across concrete for an agonizing second, before lifting, slamming into something soft enough to survive the landing, but hard enough to really feel the full impact.

He gasped, not realizing he hadn't been breathing, as he settled into whatever he was laying on. Cautiously, he opened his eyes, seeing the sky being bordered by tarp material. It took him a moment to realize the static in his ears were muffled voices, growing louder and more clear as the adrenalin slowly ebbed away.

He grunted at the weight on his chest shifted, almost forgetting that they were there. The kid was trembling something awful, small sniffles and hiccups escaping. His neck felt sticky. Tears and snot most likely, he thought with a grimace.

He slowly sat up with some difficulty, finding his arms bound to him, shushing the kid as their grip tightened from the movement. Despite his restricted movement, he tried to pull them away as much as he could to assess any damage, but they refused to let go, whimpering and snuggling deeper each time Bakugou attempted. Not even his (less) harsh commands would loosen their grip. Sucking his teeth in defeat, he pulled himself up to crawl out to the open.

“Hey! You alright?” Bakugou came face to stupid helmet with Cellophane. He thought this tape looked familiar.

“Fine. Now, get me the hell out of this!”

A short time passed, explaining the situation to authorities as he was cut from Sero's tape. The kid still clung to him tightly. They would cry the second they would feel someone grab them and only settle when left alone. Not even Kirishima could talk them from letting go. In fact, as soon as they saw the redheads sharp smile, they started screaming right in Bakugou's ear, which in turn caused him to yell for Kirishima to fuck off. So, medics did what they could to work around.

As annoying as it was, Bakugou couldn't help but feel a bit smug that they felt so safe around him. Not to mention the media catching him allowing a small scared child to cling to him would really help boost his ratings. His PR agent was going to be over the moon with all the shit he usually got.

It was only when the frantic woman from earlier came forward did they finally move. The calm that had finally settled over them being shattered to wails as they reached for their mother. Bakugou had to admit as he watched them walk away, that he felt good. He'd never say it out loud, but he had started to feel… warm when that kid was clinging to him like a lifeline. His chest was starting to feel a bit cold now.

“Hey,” he glanced to Kirishima, who had slung his arm over his shoulder to watch with him. His face was scrunched. “You smell that?”

Now that he mentioned it, yeah, Bakugou could pick up something… coming from him. He picked at his costume, noticing a bit of dampness to it. He brought his nose to it and took a whiff.

“Are you shitting me?! That little brat fucking pissed on me!”

#bakugou katsuki #imagine #bakugou #pro hero bakugou #pro hero kirishima #pro hero sero #mha #bha

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douxreviews · 5 years

Text

The 100 - ‘What You Take With You’ Review

"Things are about to get weird."

Aren't things always getting weird??

If you showed up this week like I did thinking we were getting a filler episode, I hope you held on to your hat. We went for a ride.

The episode does remarkably well juggling multiple plot threads and character points of view. Even within each sect the performances are layered and felt on more than one front. That's not easy to do. I mean I was even starting to feel something for Josephine at one point.

Pike: "The path to the future goes through the past, Miss Blake. Psychology 101. We are what we've done and what's been done to us. I'll ask you again. Who are you now, Miss Blake? Your brother's sister or the monster who would have watched him die in this very arena?"

I really hate that she's still widely labeled by other people (brother's sister, monster, girl under the floor, Blodreina...) but the first order of business is Octavia's redemption. Not that she's redeemed herself with anyone really, but acknowledging that she wants it is at least a start. I've been looking forward to watching her let her walls down for weeks now and secretly hoping that it wasn't a sloppy after school special. I wasn't disappointed. Taking her back to the moment that she decided to kill Pike in cold-blooded revenge and not one of the 97 tragic things that happened to her was genius, if you ask me.

Pike said that we are what we've done and what's been done to us. For Octavia, killing Pike was maybe the only choice she ever made on her own. Being stuck under the floor or forced to fight to the death for your people or watching the love of your life die (just to name a few) were all traumatic events that shaped who she is, but she more or less had no wiggle room in the corners that she was backed into. Killing Pike, though, that was a calculated decision. He saved her life and fought along side her looking for his own redemption and Octavia made the decision to end his life. Going back to that moment and seeing Blodreina as Pike and Pike as Lincoln, she was able to make peace with the fact that he, Pike, was a person that (maybe) deserved to live just like Lincoln was and her mother was and she is now.

Everyone deserves a second chance and when she made the decision to take his away, that was when Blodreina was really born. When she gave into the violence and anger, that was the moment she had control over and could have made a different choice. I never liked Pike and was glad to see that mustache-twirling villain get the boot, or axe as it were, but something about that being the moment that Octavia needed to redo in her mind resonates with me. If Lincoln had shown up to whisper sweet encouragement in her ear, it wouldn't have played as well. If her mom had shown up to give her a pep talk, it wouldn't have carried the same weight. But Pike pointing out the moment she became the dictator that she never wanted to be and Octavia being able to figuratively prove that she would make a different choice was really beautiful. Love love love. You go girl.

For whatever it's worth, I was mildly thrown off for a while thinking that because Octavia lived under the floor that she wouldn't have taken earth skills with Pike so it was grating my nerves that he was being so teachery with her. Later I remembered a flashback episode where he was brushing up the OG 100 before they got shipped to the ground and felt better about it, but it's not a great sign to be distracted so easily.

The next order of business is Abby and Kane and the case of the missing bottle of ooze consciouses.

Indra: "On the Ark, you floated people for stealing food. On the ground, my people cheered as children fought to the death to lead us. Is this so much worse?" Marcus: "Yes, lives have been lost in the worshiping of false gods before, more than can be counted. But if we let it stand when we could stop it, then our new world would be no different than the one we left behind."

I love that we didn't listen to Abby and Raven whine about what a stellar moral compass Kane is just for him to show up and embrace this new body-snatcher reality. I love that he, like so many others, recognized that taking peoples lives is downright rude and unlike Gabriel and that other mechanic prime dude (Striker?), he didn't ignore his skeevy inclinations and keep his consolation body prize. More than all of that though, I was so, so happy to see Indra back with us and very happy that these two bffs got to have once last powwow. And how on point was it that she was barely fazed by yet another ridiculous turn of events. I mean she and Kane did live through cannibalism and cage-fighting to the death. I can see how this could've easily been written off as just one more atrocity on the list. Not on Kane's watch!

I appreciate that three-way conversation hammering home why they can't stand for this. Why it can't be weighed against other horrible things and why it's important to stand up now and push back. Be the good guys. Do better. Now that he's gone, though, who is going to make sure that the next thing gets addressed and not simply added to the list? I don't love the idea that everyone that puts their money where their mouth is on the moral high ground finds themselves dead. I prefer a little levity in my TV.

RIP, Kane. Again.

Josephine: "My father was a fool for letting you people stay. All that time spent building a sanctuary for the human race, and he destroys it because of the most human thing of all – love."

Was letting them stay really the big mistake here? Because my money would've been on the attempted murder of Clarke Griffin. If Russell hadn't let them stay, they would've taken Sanctum by force, right?

And while I'm harping on unreliable characters, there was the moment that Josie seemed genuinely upset at the thought of seeing Gabriel and taken aback at Bellamy's declaration to Clarke. Why? She had to wonder if Gabriel was still alive somewhere in the weird woods and Bellamy didn't say anything that he hadn't already said. And Josephine is a master manipulator.

My love for the dynamic duo that is Clarke and Bellamy knows no bounds. They were part of this episode together for such a tiny speck of time, but I still lived for it.

Solid 3 out of 4 ghosts of massacres past

Bits and pieces

Do we know what was in Octavia's green box? Any guesses?

There was something particularly heart-wrenching about Octavia being chained to the fighting pit that she created. It made me think of all the time she spent under the floor and confined to that tiny room practically chained to the wall there as well. Marie G. played it very, very well. It was my favorite choice in a very well acted scene.

Octavia had to make a choice between a red box and a green box. Red is the color of blood and violence and anger. Green is the color or nature and renewal and peace. In the pit there was a small green light surrounded by a lot of red smoky light. Blodreina has a lot of red blood on her hands. The woods have a lot of greenery going on. Was the swirly green too? Is any of this relevant? Also, do I have to start calling the swirly the anomaly?

Kane came completely full circle floating himself to save humanity. When we met him, he was mercilessly floating people – also to save the human race.

Exceptionally lovely that Indra gave Kane the SpaceKru and Grounder sendoff. Her whole thing got me in the feelings. Much more than Abby snotting on the glass. Why am I so annoyed with Abby? Even Raven is cutting her slack.

Kane: "Everything is wrong."

Kane: "I am not one of the sheep you raised to follow you into oblivion." Wow.

We're all meant to blindly accept that Kane needed to be holding the serum to get it to fly into space, right? Okay. Okay, fine.

Josephine: "I’ve been in love with Gabriel for 236 years, the last 70 of which he’s been trying to kill me. You know, relationships."

Bellamy: "When the people we care about are in trouble, then we do what has to be done."

Bellamy: "I won't let you die."

Are TPTB going to do anything with the Children of Gabriel?? They're so one-note.

Gabriel: "Things are about to get weird."

---

Laure Mack

#The 100 #Clarke Griffin #Bellamy Blake #Octavia Blake #Raven Reyes #Marcus Kane #John Murphy #The 100 Reviews #Doux Reviews #TV Reviews

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dcusrclicta · 5 years

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Character Bios

Parenthesis means they have a Harry Potter AU verse

Name: Severus Tobias Snape Year: Cute. House: Slytherin Blood Status: Befouler Antichrist Eye colour: Cobalt nowadays Age: Old enough to say no. Birthdate: 1/9 Height: 6′7 Patronus: Horned Viper Description: I still hate my job. I still hate people. I’m just immortal now. Please leave my office & don’t touch anything on your way out.

Name: Brittnay Matthews Year: College Junior (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: Human (Pureblood) Eye colour: Blue Age: 21 Birthdate: 6/15 Height: 5′5 (Patronus: Pitbull) Description: Cross me & I’ll hurt you. Otherwise I’m Brittnay Matthews you’re new best friend. People think I’m arrogant but in reality they’re angry I’m better than them. I used to go to Overland Park high school. I’m glad I don’t anymore.

Name: Rhaegar Daeron Targaryen (Year: Graduated/Verse Dependant) (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: ??? Eye colour: Violet Age: 34 Nameday: All I remember was being born in the high summer Height: 7’1 (Patronus: Hungarian Horntail) Description: I’m believed to be dead. Walking about when one is believed to be dead is actually quite boring no matter how much it may benefit the Realm. I do admit I made. Many mistakes however in my defence not all prophecies are interpreted in a straight forward manner. I did better than any of you would have in the situation so save your criticism for until you watch a man identical to you get his chest caved in by a war hammer.

Name: Lilith “Lily” Sophie Evans Year: Graduated/Verse Dependant House: Slytherin Blood Status: Demon/Witch Eye colour: Green/Blue/ Sometimes they go crimson. Age: Doesn’t matter. I won’t die. Birthdate: 1/30 Height: 5’3 Patronus: Bold of you to assume I have one Description: My sister was right. I’m a freak. Even my parents saw something... Wrong in me when I was younger. They tried to pretend I was fine. ”Just a few odd occurrences here & there.” Until an older boy who couldn’t keep his hands to himself suddenly found that a hand could very easily be turned inside out. In the long run it was a good result. They found quite a bit of child pornography in his little hovel of a bedroom. My parents knew I did it but couldn’t quite figure out how until the Hogwarts letter came. They were both horrified & relieved. But to make a long story short. Once I met Severus Snape & we put our interest in the Dark Arts together... I got WORSE. & it felt good. I became addicted to the draw of dark magic, occult magic in particular & now Tom Riddle wants me to tell him what I said to Lucifer to get this new body. I might tell him if he begs in the right tone.

Name: Brahms Hillshire Blood Status: Half-demon Eye colour: Green Age: 16 Birthdate: Don’t care Height: 5′11 Description: I’m a child serial killer. I want to play around in your innards. & blood. I want to play around in your blood too.

Name: “Andrew” Antisepticeye McLoughlin Blood Status: Computer Virus Entity/Demon Eye colour: Lime Green Age: 29 (Existing for 3) Birthdate: 10/10 Height: N/A Description: It’s better if ya dun run. It’ll just drag et out. Plus sometimes ya lot chip my knife on one of yer stupid bones. & I dun really li’e runnin much ta be honest.

Name: Chase Brody Blood Status: Human Eye colour: Blue Age: 29 Birthdate: 4/11 Height: 5′10 Description: Hey bros! I’m Chase! Uh, some of ya already know tha! Anti brought me here! He said it’d be fun an’ I trus’ ‘im! I swear ‘e’s actually always been kinda nice ta me! Besides the ‘ole threatenin’ the kids thin’ but we’re frien’s now! He says he’ll teach me how ta shoot a real gun someday!

Name: Brian Griffin Blood Status: Dog(?) Eye colour: Green Age: ??? Birthdate: ??? Height: 6′4 Description: I used to be an alcoholic dog. Now I’m an alcoholic. Not much to say after something like that happens. I’m really confused to be frank. Maybe now I can actually get someone to take me seriously & publish my book.

Name: Carlos De Vil (Year: Sixth) (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: Half-demon/ Sorcerer Eye colour: Blue Age: 16 Birthdate: 3/20 Height: 5′7 (Patronus: Red Fox) Description: Hi, I’m Carlos & life is pain, only valid things in this world are only science & Evie Grimhilde, bye. Gemini De Vil is my midget brother who I love. Devil De Vil is my crazy ass dad. My mom is dead, thanks for asking.

Name: Danny Flint Blood Status: Shade Eye colour: Grey Age: Old Nameday: ? Height: 5′4 Description: Being dead was less droll.

Name: Eileen Tabitha Prince Snape Year: Graduated House: Slytherin Blood Status: Pureblood Poltergeist Eye colour: Black Age: Well. I died at 35 so let’s go with that Birthdate: 12/18 Height: 6’11 (Used to be 6'6 but I had this weird growth spurt two days before I died.) Patronus: Didn’t have one apparently

Description: … I really don’t have anything to say to you. I died, I decided I wanted to come back. Er. Awkwardly enough the old castle I was haunting is now inhabited by my son and his family. They’re all really bloody loud. No wonder the rest of the ghosts make so much noise back. And no. I have not introduced myself to any of them. I mean. Sometimes I talk to ‘em but I’ve never gotten an answer. Plus unlike most of the floating assholes here I’d much rather keep to myself, thank you.

Name: Griffin “Finn” Merterns Blood Status: Human(?) Eye colour: Blue Age: 19 Birthdate: 3/14 Height: 6′3 Description: Hey bros! I’m Finn, a radical kid that makes it his business to help people out and kickin’ monster tail! Mostly when I’m not doin’ that I’m chillin’ it up with my bro Jake in the tree house so as long as you’re not some wacko monster that wants to eat up my face you can swing by and we can fire up BMO or something.

Name: Henry Harry Jameson Hook (Year: Slytherin) (House: Seventh) Blood Status: Half-demon/Sorcerer Eye colour: Blue Age: 17 Birthdate: 10/23 Height: 6′2 (Patronus: Savannah cat) Description: All it takes is one wrong look & I’ll EVISCERATE ya... Taken by Uma daughter of Ursula. Ya want me? Ya have ta ask her permission & pray she likes ya & is in a SHARIN’ mood. Jamie Hook is me mum an’ she taugh’ me all I know about bein’ scary. Me da??? He’s a dumbass.

Name: Karl Vreski (Year: Graduated) (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: Human (Pureblood) Eye colour: Blue Age: 19 (Typically) Birthdate: 10/25 Height: 6′1 (Patronus: Jackal)

Description: I’m Karl. Lacrosse. Tacos. Boxing. American football. Whatever activity that involves either Hans Gruber or hitting something? I like it. Tony’s alright. Good brother at least. Not at all annoying like the normal younger sibling M.O. Far nicer than me. I’ll likely end up being a lawyer same as my father. Boring but Hans and I are already working at the damn firm so it’s an easy job. I’m sure Hans’ll come up with a more fun idea. He always does.

Name: Tony Vreski (House: Hufflepuff) (Year: Seventh) Blood Status: Poltergeist (Pureblood) Eye colour: Blue Age: 17 (Typically) Birthdate: 9/3 Height: 5′10 (Patronus: Rooster)

Description: I’m Tony… I uh. I play some football. Real football not American. I’m Karl’s younger brother and… To be honest Hans scares me a little bit even if we’re all like brothers… Uh more often than not I just go along with their crazy plans because. Well because my brother says it’ll be fun. And. It usually is. Even if some of it’s a little illegal.

Name: Loki Friggason (Year: Graduated) (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: God of Mischief & Chaos Eye colour: Green Age: Don’t be rude. Birthdate: Mind your business Height: 6′0 (Patronus: Corn snake) Description: I am Loki of Asgard. & I’m so fucking tired of all the gards.

Name: Beverly Marsh Blood Status: Human Eye colour: Green Age: 14 Birthdate: 8/26 Height: 5′3

Description: I’m Bev. Looked into that stupid clown’s deadlights & lived. I’ll be a loser to the end & I’m honestly real proud of that. Losers have no where to go but up, after all.

Name: Marceline Abadeer Blood Status: Vampire Demon Eye colour: Green Age: 1003, Approximately Birthdate: Unknown Height: 5′9 (Various) Description: Marceline the Vampire Queen, dude. Sure you’ve heard of me before so I wouldn’t be surprised to see you shaking in your boots right about now. Been traveling and terrorising the Land of Ooo for a while now though it’s nothing too irreversible. Mostly I’m just a radical dame that likes to play games as a very special someone once said about me.

Name: Nathan Clarke (Year: I died in seventh) (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: (Verse dependent) Poltergeist (Half-blood) Eye colour: Blue Age: 17 Birthdate: 8/13 Height: 6′2 (Patronus: Some squiggly thing I dunno) Description: Hi I’m Nathan & I wanna die... Haha gottem!

Name: Richmond Richie Wentworth Tozier Blood Status: Human Eye colour: Caribbean Green Age: 14 Birthdate: 8/10 Height: 5′10 Description: I’m only afraid of werewolves & girls with eyes that are hard to not get lost in.

Name: Robyn Black Robin Blood Status: Poltergeist Eye colour: Hazel Age: Hm Nameday: Some far off winter Height: 6′5 Description: “The Gods above all knew his crimes The lord read off his lists The Gods above all knew his crimes The men's hands balled to fists His legs they kicked, they jerked, then slowed The crowd not once did cheer His legs they slowed, then finally stopped The crowd not once did jeer”

Name: Sadie O’Connell Blood Status: ??? Eye colour: Blue Age: 19 Birthdate: I don’t remember Height: 5′6 Description: I tried to kill myself over a boy who didn’t love me back. Someone brought me back & now here I am, I guess.

Name: Scorpio Felix Sepelio Tobias Exodus Snape Blood Status: Vampire Eye colour: One is jade one is cobalt and they swap sides frequently Age: 91 Died at 36 and it’s been a while. You do the math, mate. Birthdate: 11/10 Height: 5’3

Description: Surprise bitches. I bet you all thought I was dead…In a matter of speaking that’s still accurate. The greasy little snot did indeed best me when I was human. I respect that victory &even though I miss them.. My children don’t need me. I wasn’t good to them when they did. I doubt they’re aware I came back and I’ll keep it that way for all our sakes. There’s no point in asking me how exactly I returned to life. I don’t know and I don’t particularly care. Maybe Hell just can’t handle me yet.

Name: Thomas Marvolo Riddle Year: Graduated House: Slytherin Blood Status: Demon Fledging Eye colour: Blue Age: Rude. Birthdate: 12/31 Height: 6′4 Patronus: Hmmm, my little secret. Description: Join my cult. Satanism is actually very beneficial if you’re respectful. No. You don’t have to slit your wrist to join... Please. Stop slitting your wrists to join.

Name: King Aerys Targaryen Second of His Name King of the Andals & the First Men Lord of the Seven Kingdoms & Protector of the Realm (Year: Graduated) (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: Human Mine is the blood of Old Valyria (Pureblood) Eye colour: Violet Age: Hm. Nameday: High summer. Height: 6′8 (Patronus: Gila Monster) Description: Burn them all.

Name: Ser Jaime Lannister (Year: Graduated) (House: Hufflepuff) Blood Status: Shade (Pureblood) Eye colour: Green Age: I’m dead. Sorry. Nameday: Does it matter? Height: 5′6 (Patronus: Munchkin Cat) Description: I stayed loyal to the Targaryens & they won. But I died when Robert Baratheon caved in Rhaegar’s chest... At least I got to watch him die for it.

Name: Daenerys Visenya Targaryen (Year: Fifth) (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: ??? (Pureblood) Eye colour: Violet Age: 15 Nameday: During a violent storm Height: 4′9 (Patronus: Blue-tongued Skink) Description: My family’s way is fire & blood... But my heart sings a softer song... & I don’t know which way is right.

#x: Words From His Mouth (Headcanon)#x: Well Then Write! (Character Bio)#c: All #((AHHHHHHH I FINISHED THEM))

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virginiacreepervine · 5 years

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A body washed up on Bell Isle this morning. Average height, average build. White guy with pierced ears, a few tattoos, shoulder length hair. Wouldn’t stand out in a Richmond crowd. Calloused hands and the slight beer gut suggest a blue collar job...in fact, he was a plumber. He was my brother. In a sense. People always looked at us funny when I told them; there’s no resemblance whatsoever, and we’re clearly pretty close in age. When you’ve been close with someone for twenty years, I figure you’re either family, or lovers, and our parents being married would’ve made the latter more than a little awkward. People hate it when I make that joke, makes ‘em real uncomfortable, but hey, that just makes it funnier for me. The cops are ruling it a suicide on account of him being full of liquor, with no other wounds to speak of, and my idiot mother admitted he had a history of self harm. Now I know the guy had some troubles earlier in life, but getting drunk, driving to a bridge and throwing himself off? Not his style. Dude was impatient, and I’ve had to take guns from him before. Drowning is too slow, especially in that part of the river this time of year. Dude could have stood up and stumbled to drunken safety, right next to the moonshine distillery. Shouldn’t he have broken something in a fall like that? People tell me denial is just part of the grieving process, but I know bullshit when I smell it. My grandpa has a farm. Steph is just beside herself. Literally. Ever since that accident with truck filled with ooze of dubious origin she’s had a double inches from her at all times. It doesn’t speak and it isn’t fully corporeal, but its there, standing, mimicking Steph’s expressions and movements. She’s real easy to see driving down the street too, but people learned to deal with it. Anyway, she’s (they’re?) in my bar, saying she believes me. I tell her what everyone tells me, its the grief, but she says that he hadn’t drank anything that night. More importantly, he fell asleep on top of her and she would’ve noticed if he moved. That’s not what I’ve heard, but I didn’t say that out loud. What kind of guy would tell a grieving widow her deceased husband was hung like a field mouse? Don’t answer that, I know. He was my brother though, so I couldn’t bring myself to shit on him, lest his angry ghost fuck up my bar. “So,” I muttered, “what do you want me to do about it? The fuzz had their say, case closed. This ain’t a mystery I can solve. What do I look like, Scooby Doo? Don’t answer that.” “No, asshole, you don’t look like a fucking cartoon dog. But I know when weird shit happens, you’re the guy to talk to.” She starts crying something fierce before continuing. “That’s what Mike always said at least” “Alright, fuck you. First of all, Scoobert Doobert is a legend, beloved by all, and I will not have you reducing his existence to ‘cartoon dog’ in my establishment. Second, how DARE you come at me while I grieve, trying to use my dead brother’s name to guilt trip me into something.” We stared at each other a long while. She’s crying, I’m crying, it’s a mess. I don’t know if it was the grief or the extreme need to get this crying woman (women?) out of my bar before the usual drunks start wandering in, but I caved. “Fine. Fuck it, fine. Let me make sure I have the facts straight; Y’all do the deed, he passes out on top of you. Next, he gets up and has a little drink, drives down Belvedere and parks by the memorial center, and jumps off a bridge.” “Yeah, but we know that last part didn’t happen, I would’ve noticed him move.” “Okay, fine, but that just makes it sound like you did it. How long until you woke up and noticed he wasn’t there?” She doesn’t look happy at that one. I’m a real charmer, I know. She goes on. “Around 11 A.M., when I got the call about...” she drifts off, starts crying again. Either a great actress killed my brother, or she’s trying really hard to keep it together. Her double hovers by, a mourning mirror making me feel even worse about not trying harder sooner. I interrupt, eager to get this over with. “And what time did you fall asleep?” A solid minute later, she wipes away the snot and tears. How come its always snot? Really makes a person feel worse about themselves when a booger is sliding down their face with the tears. “Oh, about ten p.m.” “You laid there for thirteen hours and still think you would’ve noticed? I’ll level with you, this whole thing seems fishier by the minute. You’re wrong, or lying, but I’m gonna be a fool and believe you for his sake. Go home and get some rest, I’m gonna head out and ask a few questions.” She thanks me and heads out, leaving a trail of tears and snot in her wake. I call my staff, tell them not to come in tonight. After the final “Fuck you, I need my hours!”, I head into the storage closet where I keep my “Closed on account of Some Bullshit” sign, grab it and walk towards the door to hang it up. Only I don’t. There’s someone behind the bar, and they’re naked. “Not again,” I think, before getting a closer look at the creep. There he is, tiny pecker and all. My brother.

“Man if you’re gonna haunt me could you at least haunt me with some clothes on? I don’t need ghost pubes around the joint if a health inspector shows up. Don’t you dead assholes usually have, like, some rags or a sheet or something?” Much to my annoyance, he responds. “Nah, the sheets look too much like the KKK getup. Makes people uncomfortable.” A startling realization. Old timey ghosts are super racist. Also, he’s very clearly alive. Ghosts ain’t got much of a sense of humor. “You asshole, you’re fucking alive?! Tell ya what, after I whip your naked ass, you’re gonna call everyone and apologize. This is ridiculous.” The supposedly dead streaker backs into the shelf behind the bar, hands up. In a shaky, scared voice he says “N-no, you can’t. No one can know I’m alive! I got people after me, Conner, I had to fake my death.” I pinch the bridge of my nose so hard that I’m sure I’ve left a bruise. “Fuckin’ okay, what the hell was the body they found?” “I had that hoodoo woman that was always screaming at people on Broad Street hook me up with a little something. You don’t know what its made of, but the people at the morgue are gonna be in for a surprise tomorrow.” I don’t ask any questions about that part, everyone knows that old bat had some weird shit going on. “Sure, but whoever is after you is gonna find out too. Now to the important question, why in the fuck are you naked in my bar?” “I put my clothes on the thing so it’d look authentic, then I creeped in here through that back window you always forget to lock.” “So,” I start, pinching the bridge of my nose again. “You managed to creep two and a half miles in the dead of night, through downtown Richmond? And no one saw you?” “Oh some people saw me. I’m just too fast, the cops could never catch me.” As he explains, I hang the sign up. Can’t have some poor customer catch me arguing with a naked ghost, would really hurt the business. Then, I lay into him for a good twenty minutes about what a moron he is, as this plan is garbage from start to finish, almost like some hack writer couldn’t think of anything better. I also hand him some clothes I keep in storage in a bin labeled “lost and found”, as if anyone ever comes looking for the stuff. You’d be amazed at the shit people leave lying around here and never come looking for. Clothes, wallets, a weird book with a lock on it that I haven’t had the balls to crack open yet. Sometimes guns, sometimes pictures of people I’ve never seen. All doomed to life in a closet. He tells me the people after him are part of the same gang I ran with as a teenager, the Pale Horse Motorcycle Club. That makes things less complicated. I’d talk to John, the boss of the gang, and get it all sorted out. That asshole owes me a few times over anyway. I let the dead prick use a few padded bras from the lost and found (seriously, who in the fuck leaves those on the ground and how didn’t I notice?) for a pillow and let him rest. My apartment is only a few blocks down the street, so I walk on home. I open the door and notice something feels off. The place is smoky, which isn’t super out of the ordinary, but the smell is way worse than normal. I take a deep breath and place the heavy, cloying scent as cigar smoke. “Look,” I say to the black abyss that is my home this time of night, “if you’re that guy from the other night, I’m sorry I didn’t call you back. You just seemed like you’re into freakier shit than I can deal with.” The person in my armchair strikes a match. I catch a few features; Bushy black beard, oily tan skin, glasses. “Hey John, thought you’d be stopping by. Didn’t have to-” “I did have to. You know we’re all about imagery. Now sit down, lets talk.” Instead of humoring him, I pull a knife on him. This isn’t some Hollywood picture, can’t take any chances. Mistake on my end though, as the last thing I remember of that night is getting hit in the head, hard, and feeling my carpet rush up to meet me.

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sweetnestor · 6 years

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ylh extra #4 | the spicy challenge

May 2017, just after Bella’s birthday

PREVIOUS FICS (u should read these first if ur new here)

OTHER EXTRAS

“Hello everybody! My name is Markiplier and we are back with another challenge! Only this time, it's just me and Bella!”

“Hi,” I greeted to the camera.

“It's only the two of us because everyone else-” Mark pointed to Ethan and Tyler, who were behind the camera with Amy and Kathryn. “- is too scared to join us.”

“Ya bunch of pansies,” I added.

“See, Bella just had a birthday,” Mark continued as he placed a hand on my shoulder, “so in honor of that, we're going to be eating a bunch of different peppers and hot sauces.”

I couldn't help but scoff.

“What?” Mark asked, already fired up. We had been going head to head all day.

“He's lying to you!” I said to the camera. “Mark is just mad that I can eat a habanero without crying and he can't!”

“We're all mad at that,” Ethan spoke up.

Tyler, Kathryn, and Amy agreed.

“Okay -” Mark suddenly cut himself off as he looked at me.

I returned the eye contact, wondering why he just stopped. We looked at each other up and down, and then it clicked. We were both wearing red flannels.

“The one time you don’t wear black, and you steal my brand?” Mark asked, mock exasperated.

“Listen, I was feeling extra queer today,” I said as I fixed my collar. “And I’m probably gonna end up taking it off, depending on how this goes.” As soon as I said it, I realized how it sounded.

Tyler and Kathryn were cackling. Amy and Ethan were not so amused. This was weird. This was a weird situation.

“Because we’re eating hot peppers and I’ll sweat! Ya fuckin’ nasties!” I snapped.

“Yeah, it’ll get hot and sweaty in here!” Mark added before going back to the task at hand. “Okay, as you can see, we have several sauces and peppers laid out.” He gestured to the counter, where several small bowls of peppers and bottles of hot sauce sat. “We're gonna start with the least spicy thing and work our way up. You nervous, Bellaboo?”

I was surprisingly good at hiding how taken aback I was at the old nickname. I honestly had no idea if any of our viewers knew about the names we used to call each other. If they did, then this would be quite the throwback. Again, this was weird.

“Nervous is my default setting,” I replied with a smile. “I am excited, though!”

The first thing we tried was my very own recipe of habanero salsa. Mark seemed to think it wouldn't kick as hard since there were multiple ingredients to diffuse the burn, and he was partly correct. That was why we tried it first.

“This is actually delicious,” he said as we munched on some chips. “We're gonna put this aside to eat later.”

“If we don't burst into flames first,” I added.

The next small bowl contained long, thin, red peppers. This will sound weird, but they reminded me of childhood. If they were dry, I would have chowed down immediately and remembered the time my godmother fed them to me. I mean I still remembered with a grimace, anyway.

“Now this is the Bird’s Eye chili,” Mark explained as he held up the bowl. “It is one hundred thousand Scovilles, which is actually less than the habanero.”

“You mean they’re not called chiles rojos?” I asked stupidly as I was offered one.

Mark looked at me. “You’ve had these before?”

“I ate these as a child.”

“Of course you have!” Mark took a chili as well and then we clinked.

One bite was all it took for me to feel it. This was not childhood. I feigned my confidence, though, because Mark pretty much lost it and it really pissed him to see that I was not reacting dramatically.

I sucked in a soft breath. “It hurts a little bit.”

“A little bit?” Mark paced around the kitchen, struggling to cope with the flavor. After several minutes, he was able to introduce the next item. “Our first sauce…” He was speaking with a lisp, and he paused to take a breath. “Our first…Bella, if you please…”

I picked up the small, brown bottle with the yellow label. “Blair’s Possible Side Effects Hot Sauce. Aww, it comes with a cute little key chain!” I pointed to the skull on a small chain around the neck. “I’m keeping this, I want to remember this day forever.”

Then, we grabbed a chip each and dabbed some sauce on them. Mark and I clinked again and then we set ourselves on actual fire. Yeah, this one burned more than anything I had ever tried.

“Oh jeez,” I said once I had eaten the chip. I had my mouth open with the tip of my tongue sticking out.

Mark was crouching down on the floor. He let out a strangled, agonizing groan. He breathed quickly in and out, much like I was doing.

“Are you guys ready for your milk?” asked Tyler.

“No!” Mark and I snapped in unison.

“I could do this all day,” I said as I put my long hair up in a ponytail. Just like I had predicted, I was starting to sweat. “What's next?”

“I'm not ready!” Mark groaned.

Eventually, it was the Devil's Tongue, which was 125,000 Scovilles. Then, Red Savina: 350,000. It was getting worse. My eyes started to water, and my bowels were starting to fight back. I stared up at the ceiling to prevent my eyes from leaking, which was all to entertaining for our witnesses.

“You laugh, but my foundation was fifty dollars!” I told them, wanting to yell but I was afraid it would make my bowel move in ways I didn’t want it to. “Someone come wipe away my tears, I can't touch my eyes!”

Ethan quickly came over with a tissue and dabbed at the corners of my eyes. When I was able to look straight again, I pulled off my false eyelashes and put them in the palm of his hand.

“Take these, remember me when I'm gone,” I said mock dramatically.

Mark's shirt was stained with sweat, snot, and tears. He had been incoherent since the Devil's Tongue, so he just pointed at what we were going to eat next.

“I love how calm you are,” Ethan told me with a laugh, “while Mark is just dying…”

I would have laughed too, had I not felt like actually shitting myself.

“Why aren’t you suffering?!” Mark managed to cry out between breaths.

“Fire cannot kill a dragon,” I replied as my stomach ominously churned. Despite those words, I still took off my flannel, letting my sweaty armpits breathe by placing my hands on my hips. “It’s hot in here, right?”

“Cry!” Mark yelled. “React! Do something!”

“I’m dead inside.”

“Okay, okay. We’re skipping to the last one. This one has a story.”

I recognized the sauce that came in a coffin. I smiled and looked at Mark, despite how much my mouth was suffering.

“This is what started the whole thing,” I said, holding up the sauce. “A couple years ago, Mark used this in a video, I’m sure y’all have seen it. Later that day, he put this in my fucking food and let me eat it.”

“I told you what was going in your food!” he justified. “I didn’t trick you! I didn’t bamboozle you!”

“Five! Million! Scovilles!” That was the closest I got to yelling around these people.

“You didn’t die!” Mark argued with a shrug.

“Your intention was to turn me into ash! And I didn’t! I actually enjoyed it, and he was upset by it!” I told the camera. “Story time: Markiplier tried to kill me!”

“Now Bella’s gonna take a shot of this!”

“Dude, I’m on the verge of diarrhea. No way.”

That was a surprise to everyone in the room. Ethan and Tyler burst into laughter.

“Okay, fine,” Mark said, “I’ll take a shot of it.”

“You’ll burn a hole in your throat!” I warned.

It took a surprising while to talk Mark out of damaging his esophagus. He settled for each of us taking three drops of the sauce. In an unceremonious fashion, I twisted the cap open, and the smell made us both cough.

“Fucking Christ!” I exclaimed. “I forgot how powerful this is!”

“Here we go,” Mark grumbled as he dripped some sauce onto a plastic spoon.

“See you in hell,” I said as I got my own spoon of death.

We took the drops at the same time. The minute it hit my tongue, my life flashed before my eyes. I had a moment of realization…this was a mistake. My bowels were screaming and crying. My throat burned. Mascara went down my face.

Mark threw his head back, his face scrunched up in pain. He gestured for the milk, which Tyler gave him. Pretty soon, I gave in too and got my own quarter gallon. By the end of it, Mark and I were sweating, crying, and chugging so much milk that it would make us vomit later.

“I’ve seen the afterlife and it sucks!” I groaned, my tongue sticking out of my mouth. Milk was dripping down my chin.

“What happened to loving spicy food?” Mark asked with a sneer.

“I like it in moderation, you fuckwad!”

“So anyway, that was the… the Let's Drive Ourselves to Insanity Challenge!”

I scoffed. “I don't need peppers to make myself go crazy.”

“Okay, Edge Queen! This was the Spicy Challenge!”

#markiplier x oc #teamiplier x oc #sweetheart writes #ylh extra #there was literally no other reason for this #except that me and sam talked about this concept in depth last year #the idea was just so fucking funny #like yes come on i had to do it #like this just sets the tone for belliplier's post break up friendship ya feel #they hate each other and always go head to head #and yh i was too lazy to write in marks outro at the end alhdlkashlkfj #anyway this is not the angst i said i was writing #that still needs work #anyway thank u for validation

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