#its modeled after a green house !

[vln-vibes]

Bright Hope, Mighty Will

The Green Lantern Corps have lost many members over its years— a risk that came with maintaining the peace as told by the Guardians. Most of the rings reassigned to a new member of its given sector but on occasion there would come those that were so attached to its wielder that they would not accept another unless they resonated with their predecessors ideals.

It’s one such ring that had been on Oa with no new lantern to wield it. Or it had been.

The Blue Lanterns were still a growing group with whom the Corps had a close alliance thanks to their symbiotic relationship; after all a Blue power ring was at its highest potential when near a Green power ring and vice versa. So why not look for users together?

The rings were set off as a pair in an attempt to create a powerful Union and birthing the most powerful duo either Corps had ever seen.

Meanwhile in Sector 2814, on the third planet from its star— Earth, a small family from the Midwest were camping out in the woods after their youngest begged to see the shooting stars where they’d be the most visible. The oldest child explained to their parents that it was a good way to channel the younger’s passion for space and science much like their own. Everything had been well until the elder duo’s sensors brought up a strange signature from deeper in the wood— Ecto-entities or ghosts as they’d called them. Before being able to drag the children with them the youngest stood his ground and refused to be taken away from his stars, the elder assured that she could take care of her younger brother and that they’d be fine alone (they were alone even when in the same house more often than not)

The sun had since set, the telescope set up, blanket had been laid with snacks for them to consume as they sat in wait with jackets to help with the night chill. The duo sat near the campfire as the younger's anticipation grew but the thought of their parent's absences did as well. They'd been left home alone before but they were only 8 and 10 years old, in the middle of the wilderness with no way to guide them back home or even find where their parent's ghost hunting led them.

"Don't worry little brother, I'm sure mom and dad will be back soon"

"Ye-yeah! Besides mom knows how to kick butt, they'll be fine"

"Look!"

The duo took their gazes to the skies as the twinkling night was accompanied by steaks of white dashing by. The older grabbed her slightly old model camera and took photos of the unsuspecting boy's awe filled gaze before he could complain. He stuck his tongue out at her before turning to his telescope, doing his best to follow the streaks in the sky until no longer visible to him. The girl just took to taking some more photos to show their parents once they'd returned. It'd go on for a while like that, the stars as their only witnesses as they joked around.

"Hey that one's green! And that one's blue!"

She lifted her head from looking at her camera's saved photos to find the twin streaks flying together, a quick click of her camera to save such a strange occasion. She wasn't an astronomy expert but she didn't think shooting stars came in those colors. Taking her gaze off of the small screen and looking back up she noted the bigger size.

"Are they getting closer?"

"Maybe they'll land near here. How cool would it be to see them up close?!"

It was as though those words triggered something as the two stars seemingly stopped flying and began their rapid descent. Straight for them.

"They're headed right for us!"

"Run!"

The duo quickly picked up their discarded flashlights and began running away from the clearing their parents had chosen. No matter how fast or further away they got the stars still trailed towards them. The numerous twists and turns never deterring the streaks of light, even as the elder held the younger's hand in an iron grip to prevent them from losing each other or as the younger turned them around and took haphazard turns in an effort to get them away.

"Everything's gonna be alright!"

She panted as they approached another clearing, no idea where their own was but still looking and seeing the stars much closer to them, the lights were blinding. She felt her body get pushed aside and the roll of cold grass on her back, hair getting tangled with small twigs and a familiar but smaller body land on top of hers.

"Look out!"

They closed their eyes and braced for impact feeling a sudden breeze and a slight shake but nothing else. Until they heard different voices echo. Looking gazes and noticing the glowing eyes the other had they sat up--- only to be met by glowing, floating ----rings?

[Sentience located]

[Daniel James Fenton of Earth, you have been chosen]

[Jasmine Dahlia Fenton of Earth, you have been chosen]

[You have the ability to Overcome great fear]

[You have the ability to instill great Hope]

[Welcome to the Green Lantern Corps]

[Welcome to the Blue Lantern Corps]

A bright flash of blue and green surrounded the duo, hands still clasped and feeling a tug on their unoccupied hands, the warmth traveling on their bodies before disappearing altogether.

"Jazz what are you wearing?"

"What am I wearing!? What are you wearing Danny? Is that your old astronaut costume?"

Jazz noted the blue ring on top of her opera gloved right hand, also clenching the handle of a blue lit lantern? She could feel her knee length puffy blue dress move with the night breeze but didn't feel cold. White boots with blue bottoms kicked a pebble to the side, hearing it hit the nearby lake. Given the full moon she took a gaze at her reflection, finding her usual teal ribbon replaced by a giant blue bow at the back of her head and her eyes glowing a brilliant blue.

Danny was busy looking at his green suit, looking much like the costume he wore in a near daily basis when he was five until he started school. His own white gloves had puffier cuffs which reminded him of the astronaut costumes he and Tucker had looked at online for Halloween the year before, green ring also on his right, shaking the green weird lamp in the process. He pulled at the black suspenders before joining Jazz at the lake. His raven locks now had a single green streak near his bangs and icy blues now a vivid green.

"Cool"

Jazz was panicking, wondering what this could mean; what was a Blue Lantern anyway? Why did it choose her? And why was Danny green?

"Whoa!" Her glowing eyes turned to Danny but couldn't find him, hearing the sudden clatter of something falling on the floor and seeing the lantern rolling on its side, had he fallen in the water?!

"Danny!"

"Up here!" her eyes widened as he little brother flew above her, laughing as he looped around in the air, "C'mon Jazz!"

"How did you do that?" her eyes never leaving the faintly green glowing boy, "Can I do that?"

[You can. Just have Hope]

Trusting the voice in her head she reassured herself that they would be fine before feeling the ground disappear from under her feet and got closer to Danny, dropping her own lantern next to Danny's. She felt her surprise turn into a smile before doing a cartwheel in the air and the giggles escape from her.

Neither took track of time as they flew above the clearing before Danny had the idea to race above the lake, streak of blue and green reflected on its surface as it rippled from their speed. It wasn't until they flew back to the clearing that they remembered--- they had no idea where they ran off to. There hadn't been a lake where they'd set up camp.

"Mo-mom and dad will find us Danny! We'll be okay" They had to be okay, they would be fine. The idea of flying above the trees to look for their clearing was tempting but she had no idea how long it would take; did these things run on batteries? Would the power run out soon? Can they even take off these outfits? It'd be weird to be stuck like this for forever. If mom and dad find them what will they think of the glowing? It reminded her a bit too much of how the ectoplasm in the basement glowed whenever she or Danny were dragged downstairs and the substance covered near all the surfaces (that's when they'd know dad was making them clean up)

Whilst Jazz marinated in her thoughts and worries Danny couldn't help but think if there was a way to ask for help, though even if they had phones he doubted they'd even have service or know how to guide help towards them.

[Activating Emergency Beacon for Sector 2814]

"Huh? Emergency beacon?"

"What was that Danny?" Jazz snapped out of her thoughts as she heard his confusion, noting the slight pulsing now coming from his ring.

"I-I think my ring asked for help?"

"...Let's hope that's a good thing "

The brother-sister duo took to sitting by the lake once more, still viewing the stars above and keeping an ear out for any sign of their parents--- they were never quiet for too long. Especially when 'ghost-hunting', not that ghosts actually existed.

They were starting to get hungry again, having not touched their assorted snacks before the whole fiasco began when a steak of green, followed by another, approached the horizon. The first stopped, the second following suit... Were they like them? It looked like two people flying now that they weren't moving so fast. They were too far to properly see but it looked like they were searching for something.

Danny's ring flared up in quick brilliant flash before going back to its blinking; it seemed that was the cue the two in the sky were looking for as they made their way towards them.

"I think that's our ride Jazzy"

The duo finally hovered above the lake shore, the surprise clear on their faces even as one had a mask on.

"Hello, I am Green Lantern John Stewart of Sector 2814" the first man with matching vivid green eyes like Danny elbowed the man next to him.

"Uhh and I'm Green Lantern Hal Jordan of Sector 2814" he said sheepishly, running his white gloved hand through brown locks of hair. "You're the ones who send the distress call, what sector are you from?"

"Sector?" the duo looked at each other confused before Jazz remembered what the rings had said. "I- I think they said 2814?"

The duo looked surprised, disbelief easily conveyed even though Mr. Jordan's mask, actually he seemed more surprised than Mr. Stewart. "I'm sorry but what planet are you from?"

"Earth? I mean its not like--- Are aliens real!?" Danny's wariness disappeared and hovered in the air as he said it, "That's so cool!"

"You two are Earth children then" Mr. Stewart's eyes gained a dark look as he said so, "How long have you had the rings?"

"Umm I'm not really sure" Danny turned to his sister for guidance only to find her rubbing her arm nervously "Maybe an hour or two?"

Mr. Jordan's look matched Mr. Stewart's, like they were mad but they didn't seem mad at them like the teachers would when they caught him and Tucker talking during class. It was like whenever mom and dad's inventions malfunction and they'd go to school with bruises. (Those days mom and dad would mention their teachers calling them, they were always busy with the portal and never answered)

"Do you know what those are?" Mr. Jordan bent down to Danny's level, pointing at the matching green ring. Danny looked at his and wiggled his fingers.

"Not really? The voice said welcome to the Green Lantern cops?"

"Close, little man" Mr. Jordan chuckled, "My friend and I are part of the Green Lantern Corps. We help protect the universe, pretty much space cops if ya ask me"

"You get to travel into space! Awesome!" Danny literally brightened as his green glow intensified. "But why isn't hers green?"

"Your friend is actually part of the Blue Lantern Corps. They're a little different from us but we work together from time to time. They like to spread hope throughout the universe"

"Hope. It said I had the power to instill great hope. But why me? And why did they choose him?" her voice wavered as she turned to Mr. Stewart with a grave lookin his eyes.

"That... That is something neither of us can answer for you" he admitted, a solemn lookin his eyes as he placed a hand on her shoulder, "But we'll do our best to help you two with this"

"Its unprecedented for either Corps to choose children" Mr.Jordan frowned before looking towards Danny again, "What are you two doing in the middle of the woods?"

"I wanted to see the stars" Danny admitted sheepishly, all of this started from his request to their parents. They wouldn't be in this mess if he just watched from home like always, heck Mr. and Mrs.Foley had offered to take Danny and Tucker camping once school let out if he wanted to (but no he couldn't wait a month, he needed them now). "So mom and dad brought us camping but then the stars--- the rings started chasing us and we got lost"

"That must of been scary huh guys?" Mr.Jordan gave a look to Mr.Stewart and the man walked away a bit, placing a finger into his ear and whispering. How weird.

"So you guys are siblings?" he turned to Jazz, she just nodded slowly, took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes. She kept rubbing the blue ring on her hand as she did. "Do you guys mind telling me your name?'

Jazz still had that worried look in her eyes, like when she knew the turkey would come back to life in any second but mom kept saying it'd be fine. (Jazz was always right, it was always the same every Christmas). His sister liked to think she was a grown up and didn't get nervous talking with strangers but she was still a kid like him. He would be brave for Jazz!

"I'm Danny and that's my big sis Jazz"

"Its nice to meet you two, or well at least know your names now?"

"Jordan"

"Hold right there"

The two adults just kept talking in whispers, looking back at them every few seconds, Jazz wasn't sure what to make of them but they were the ones who knew the most about the situation. Danny also had a pretty good sense for people and they seemed friendly but she also knew better than to trust complete strangers. Stranger danger was very much ingrained to them at a young age. Jazz knew it was rude but couldn't help but hear Mr.Jordan's outburst of "Seriously, nothing? Its been hours"

It seemed like forever before the adults came back and gave them strained smiles in turn.

"Well kids we're going to help you guys find your camp and make sure you get back to your parents" Mr.Jordan winked.

"We'll also explain more about the rings and what they mean while we wait. Sounds like a plan?" Mr. Stewart made sure to look at them in the eyes and didn't move until they both nodded in agreement.

"Okay"

The brother-sister duo didn't know what they were getting into when they went camping that day but everything was in motion, a new path diverging in time to create a brilliant new future; tragedy, love, and courage would always be on their path no matter how much he'd tried to avoid, it was inevitable. He could only witness as they embarked on this journey together and bring about the Rebirth with allies at their sides.

And he couldn't wait to meet them again, in due time.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #Lantern Au #Green Lantern Danny Fenton #Blue Lantern Jazz Fenton #Concerned GLs #they basically emotionally adopt these kids #disregard canon do phanfiction #QwQ I was actually halfway done but it wasn't save on mobile #theyre debating whether or not to contact CPS #Or even keep the rings but Guardians refuse to take them back #its for science #or thats what they say #this may or may not have spiraled out of control #also am basing GL on select cartoon lore so sorry in advance #didnt mean for the ending to sound so cryptic

[dcxdpdabbles]

Passion for Fashion Part 4

A loud ding-dong echoes through the house. Danny sits up from where he was lying, inches from a radio playing falling water.

He found it in the garbage a few days after the whole kidnapping of Fiesco- the police got all the models to safety while the Bats were able to rescue Tim Drake, but the primary muscle, some guy named Waylon, got away. - but the station it could pick up was a natural sound effects station.

Danny had been tinkering with it, trying to figure out how to get it to connect to the local radio mostly successfully for days now. He leaned back to look past the randomly hung clothes that Dan had been stringing across their house.

Fabrics still littered the place, and it's become less of a home and more of a fabric storage.

Danny has forgotten the color of the walls, so used to just seeing clothes everywhere. It was a bit embarrassing to be so messy but it's not like they had guests in this dimension.

Which meant the door ringing even stranger.

Ding Dong.

"Dan?"

His counterpart grunts from somewhere behind the blue and green fabrics. "What?"

"Nothing," Danny calls back, side-stepping fabrics and pushing aside some mannequins. Who was on the other side of the door if Dan was in the living room turned studio?

Ding Dong.

They should really think about installing some cameras or even a peephole. Danny hesitates for only a moment before he carefully turns the knob and opens the door slightly, only enough so his eye can see through the crack.

An EverBurning Lizardman stands on his doorstep. That's....not confusing at all. Maybe the ghost was sent by Clockwork? Oh, perhaps the time Ghost was sending them back up?

"Hello?" Danny asks, swinging it open. "Can I help you?"

The Lizardman squints at him. "Dan Fenton?"

"No. I'm Danny Fenton. Dan is my twin brother."

"Right. I'm Killer Croc," The EverBurning says, straightening out his back to tower over Danny in what he thinks is supposed to be menacing. To Danny, it just looks like someone standing to attention, a lot of the ghosts do that when he is crowed.

"Nice to meet you, Killer. Cool jean jacket by the way." Danny responds. He crosses his arms and leans on the doorframe, tilting his head like a bird. Killer Croc seems taken aback by his nonchalant mannerism. "Do you want me to get Dan?"

The EverBruning lips pull back, showcasing all of his teeth. Danny is impressed by how sharp and white they are. He must use a whiting paste. He'll have to ask for the secret later. A model needed a pearl-white smile, after all. "I would like to speak to you both."

Danny considered the request before nodding his chin to his house. "Come on in. Sorry about the mess; we weren't expecting guests."

As the significant being of rippling scales and muscles made its way inside, Danny shut the door and held out his hand towards Killer.

The Lizardman blinked down at him. "What?"

"Can I take your coat?" Danny asked, so used to offering guests back at home that he forgot big city folk may not do that.

Killer's eyes narrowed. "No."

"Alright." Accepting the denial Danny rocked on his heels, pushing a large indego piece of fabric out of his face. It reveals the slight path to the kitchen. "Can I offer you something to drink? Tea, water, soda....heated ectoplasm?"

"...Water is fine." Killer settles on staring at Danny like he is the most fascinating thing he's ever seen. Not surprising. Those from the Elemenal Sector of the Infinite Releams don't see human-shaped beings often. He had plenty of young Yeti children surround him when he visited because they had never seen someone who looked like Danny before.

"Hot or Cold?"

"....Cold."

Huh. An EverBurning who did not take their water boiling? Danny would ask him about it, but he didn't want to seem like he was playing into stereotypes.

"I'll bring it out in a minute. Please make yourself at home." Danny gestures to a corner of the room. "I think the couch is somewhere in that direction. "

He doesn't wait for the Lizardman to reply instead he turns to the last place he heard his counterpart shout. "Dan! Come out here, you have a visitor!"

"No! Tell whoever they are to piss off." Dan screams back. Danny's face twitches. He hates that guy so much sometimes.

"Don't be rude! Come out here!"

Dan makes a loud obnoxious sigh, pushing the fabrics out of his way. He's still wearing the same pair of sweatpants and stain t-shirt grey oversized shirt. His hair has obviously not been comb and there are slight bags under his eyes from where he refused to get some sleep the last few days.

In short, he looks like a right mess.

"Who the hell is even bothering us..." Dan's voice trails off, face paling when he sees Killer uncomfortably trying to sit. Dan glances down at his body and then screams in mortification, warping his arms around himself. He sprints further into the house before they can get a word in. "Don't look at me! I have to get dressed! I normally look hot, I swear!"

Danny blinks. "Well....I'll get you that water while Dan gets dressed."

Killer looks far more confused than before. "Sure, kid."

Now, Danny has always been an alley of the FarFrozen. Not only was FrostBite his doctor, his ice mentor, and his general instructor for the Infinite Realms, but he was also his friend.

Nearly as close as Sam and Tucker- FrostBite had become someone he sought companionship with, which went for all of FarFrozen. Danny spent more time in the winter wonderland than in his home. This meant he knew all about their rivals- the EverBurning.

The EverBurning were a tribe of Lizardmen in hot volcanic lands to the south of the FarFrozen. They were very similar to the FarFrozen in culture and civilization, with a bit more emphasis on arts than science.

Although they were polar opposites, FarFrozen and EverBurning had no abysmal relationship. Their meet-ups reminded Danny of rival high school sports teams at most.

Danny was just an alley to the FarFrozen first.

When he returned to the living room, he arrived with Killer looking highly uncomfortable as Dan sat awful close to him now dressed a looking....well looking like what the locals called "E-Boy" sexy.

Not to be confused with Goth. Danny didn't know what the difference was, but Dan almost bit his head off the last time he pointed it out. Apparently, the fashions were completely different.

"So, Papi. why were you looking for me?" Dan all but purs. Killer shudders and quickly stands up, causing Dan to fall onto the couch cushions.

"I came here to apologize." The Lizardman starts but is cut off by his slight jump as Danny appears at his elbow, holding out the tray. He needs to remember to make noise when he moves.

"Apologize for what?" Danny asks, observing his guest take the glass cup in a scaly hand. He seemed to do so carefully, but surprisingly not uncurling his claws away- does he not know how?

"For almost trafficking you. I ugh...I sell drugs, not people. I wasn't aware those idiots were doing that when I accepted the job to kidnap Tim Drake for a few hours. I have to eat somehow, you know?" Killer shrugs at the twin stare of surprise. "I'm an ugly son of bitch, but I'm not much of a monster."

"Papi, you are gorgeous-" Dan starts, placing one hand behind the couch seat and giving a flirtatious little smirk up at the Lizardman, but Killer cuts him off.

"Okay, seriously, kid you're starting to freak me out. Not that I'm not flattered. You're the first and only one ever interested in me, but I'm twenty-eight. You're way too young for me."

Dan frowns in confusion. "I'm twenty-six. Two years isn't that much of a difference."

Killer gestures at him. "You are fifteen at the least, kid."

Dan's face ripples through various emotions before he leans back and stares at his hands as if seeing them for the first time. He whispers to them in a hushed tone of angst. "I'm seventeen."

Right.

Danny clears his throat. "It's alright, Killer. We weren't sold, and neither were any of the other models. So, no harm was done. Apology accepted."

Killer Croc seems more thrown off balance than when Danny first opens the door. Poor guy. It must have been the ice water. Danny shouldn't have made it that cold. "Just like that?"

"Just like-"

Someone breaks through his living room window. The Fentons let out cries of surprise as Killer quickly grabbed them both and rolled the ground, using his large body to shield them from the shattering glass. The intruder was likely unaware of the strung-up fabrics, for they stumble into the tied strings and quickly become entangled.

They fall to the ground in heap as the strong wire wraps around them. Danny knew he shouldn't have allowed Dan to use metal wire for his heavier pieces- especially one that taught, but Dan had been so persuasive.

(He put them up anyway, and Danny was too lazy to take them down)

"Ah man, I liked that window," Danny whines as he peaks over Killer's shoulder.

"We have windows?"

"Killer Croc! Unhand the hostages!" The person on the ground screams, shimmering around until the clothes fall away, and Danny finally gets a good look at some guy in a red and black costume?

Dan points at the stranger "Who is that-"

"Red Robin" Killer all but snares, suddenly far more violent than usual. Dan takes one look at the EverBurning before he, too, is standing at the ready for a fight- it makes his outfit look really out of place, but Danny can't say much when he's still in his own sweats.

Maybe he should have changed too?

"Should we kill him?" Dan asks, and Red Robin stops, seemingly shocked that the fashion designer would ever suggest that.

"Woah woah woah," Danny says, stepping between the two groups. He has his hands up attempting to appease the ghosts first- for all Dan looked and had been human, he spent far more years as a full-time ghost so he was more ghost than human.

Killer claws have sharpened, and he just knows it's going to be a pain and a half to get them to stop. Thinking quickly, Danny crouched down to place a kiss on the frozen- no pun intended- human on the cheek. "There is no need for a fight. I asked him out on a date and sort of forgot what time he was picking me up."

Killer stared at him like he had grown a second head, but Dan dropped his raised fists. "Oh yeah? Have fun on your date brat."

"Thanks, Dan."

He hurled Red Robin to his feet and practically pushed him out into the street before the other could get his wits about him. Once they were safely out of Dan's hearing range, Danny crossed his arms, raising an unimpressed brow to the dressed-up stranger.

"Alright, who are you supposed to be, and why did you break through my window?"

"I-"

"Danny!" Dan shouts from the broken window. He waves around a duffle bag that he quickly throws at the confused teenager. "You can go on a date dress like that! I have a reputation as a fashion designer to keep. Put that on!"

Danny rolls his eyes, turning back to the other teenager- is he a teenager? Danny can't really tell with the mask but he sort of looks like it. "Do you mind waiting for me to get ready? I'll pay for pizza."

"W-wait what-no I'm here to rescue-are you serious about the date?"

"Yeah, why not? I dated a dead biker before and his crazy girlfriend. Sides, you're pretty cute."

"Are you aware that Killer Croc is in your house?"

"Killer? Yeah, my brother is trying to seduce him."

"......why?" Red Robin whispered in horror, "Why would he do that?"

"Why does Dan do anything?" Danny grins with a shrug. "I get it, though; Killer is a good-looking EverBurning."

"EverBurning?"

"A tribe in the Infinite Realms."

There is a spark of recognition in Red Robin's body language. Now, why does this stranger know about Danny's kingdom?

Red Robin's mouth opens and closes before slowly reaching up and pressing his ear. Danny realizes only after a moment that he's using a communicator as the other says, "I'm going offline for a bit. Got a date with someone from Constitine's Infinite Realms."

Hmmm, does that sound like a problem Danny should be dealking with? Nah, as long as Red Robin's not connected to Batman, he should be fine.

(Meanwhile, Dan is pouting as Waylon slips out the back door once again regretting his offer of going on their own date. Just his luck Clockwork's little twin idea is going to make dating a nightmare. There went the best tail he's ever seen)

Master Post Link

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Fashion for Passion #Part 4 #Onesided Dan/Waylon #Dead tired #Danny is sort of rolling with things #Waylon came to say sorry and left confused out of his mind. #He likely thinks he was drugged #The bats are in fact screaming to NOT GO ON THAT DATE TIM OMF

[the-kr8tor]

Mr and Mrs Smith AU: When Jane met John

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 9k

Summary: Joining a spy agency? Check ✓ Hired in said agency? Check ✓ Getting a new fancy house? Check ✓ An entire armoury of weapons at your disposal? Check ✓ A new Husband? Check ✓ wait, what?

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), Hobie and R call each other by fake names (ie: John, Jane, Smith etc), spy AU, CW suggestive, CW food mentions, TW blood, CW violence, CW vomit mention, TW death.

A/N: Happy 1k! Happy reading!!!❤️

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Buy me a ☕?

The waiting room seems like it's designed to make you extra anxious. From the bright fluorescent lights that whir above, to the carpet that smells like a very harsh citrus soap. Add the metallic chairs that's incredibly cold under your slacks— It all makes you bounce your leg from the bundle of nerves inside your stomach. The people waiting around you don't help either, they all look like they came out of magazine covers. Hair all tied up in a perfect bun, pencil skirts that cinch their waist perfectly. Button ups that are ironed until there's no crease in sight.

You bite your lip, eyes glued on the steel door, to where your last resort is, to where your entire future depends on. Looking around the room full of models, it doesn't seem like you're applying for a security job.

Maybe you should've worn that pencil skirt that's gathering dust in your closet.

Even though you technically don't know what kind of job it is, you really need to get this one, or else. Your savings could only get you so far. An old ‘friend’ of yours recommended this ‘company’. It operates at the highest security, the risk is just as high, but the pay is higher. More than what you've ever earned in the five years you've worked anyway.

Flicking your eyes above the door, the light finally turns green from red, and a chiming sound can be heard as the door clicks open on its own. You still wonder where the applicant goes after their interview since you never saw them exit out the same door. A morbid thought passes by your mind: a gun plus a bullet to the head. The image makes you grab the rubber band on your wrist to slap it against your skin. It leaves the stinging pain for only a moment, but it's enough to throw away the vision from your brain.

An applicant enters and you look down at the piece of paper in your hand— you're next.

The number, 2715 is written in Times New Roman. You can recognize that font anywhere, for it's the same font used on newer gravestones, the same font on his— you slap the rubber band against your wrist again. This time harder than the last. The stinging stays for a minute more. Your heels tap against the carpet, the clock ticks, the fluorescent whirs, someone coughs and you want to punch them in the face— you slap the rubber band against your skin again.

Your ears perk up at the familiar chime like you've been Pavlov’d by the sound after waiting for three hours on that uncomfortable metal chair that has tiny holes that you've gotten your pinky finger stuck in on hour two.

With a deep breath, you saunter your way towards the creaking door, trying to summon all the confidence in your body. They may be watching so you do your best to not look as nervous as you feel like.

As you enter the room, the large screen in the center raises a curious brow. The light from the monitor shines a spotlight on the singular office chair right in front of it. The room is dim, save for the single light. The screen reminds you of one of those mall touch screens that shows you the map of the building. There's another door on the opposite wall, now you know where all the other candidates exit, and it's definitely not from a bullet judging from the clean floors.

With a tentative step, you cross the distance. Sitting down, the chair is a comfortable welcome from the last one you sat on.

“Am I supposed to push a button?” You roam your eyes over the circular shape up top. You surmise that it's the camera.

The calming sky blue screen flashes words,

> Hihi, welcome

“Hi?”

> Insert nail clippings

A box slides out below the screen, prompting you to take the ziplock with your nail clippings from your bag. It slides back in with a mechanic hiss once you place the plastic on the drawer, and the screen blinks to a couple of questions that you answer honestly.

> What's your ethnicity?

You don't falter. Answering it truthfully.

> Height?

You clear your throat, the lump is either from the nerves or how your voice faltered when you answered.

> Are you willing to relocate?

You wring your hands together on your lap. “Yes, absolutely. Nothing's holding me back.” Then the dreaded question pops up on the bright screen.

> Tell me about yourself

“Uh, I graduated top of my class.” You scratch the back of your neck. “MI6 agent for three–no, uh four years.” Chuckling shakily, you continue. “I got high merits…w-well until the thing— but I was on the road to promotion b-before it happened.” God, you hate interviews.

> Words that people would describe you with?

You blink, sucking in a breath. “Truthfully?” Joking, the screen doesn't appreciate your humour.

> Yes

“Oh, p-people would describe me as a… someone who has initiative. Cunning…” unfeeling— you slap the band on your wrist again. Sitting up right, you gaze at the camera like your eyes could see the person typing behind it. You guess it's a person at least. “Passed all my training with flying colours, infiltration, marksmanship, hand to hand, you name it. You tell me the job and I'll do it with no questions asked.”

> Are you okay with high risk?

“More than okay.” You answer quickly.

> With a team or alone?

“I'm alright with either, but I prefer alone.”

> Why did you get fired?

“You know why.” You say intensely, eyes boring holes into the screen. For a second you thought you flubbed it but the screen continues to flash a new question.

> Have you killed anyone?

> And why?

The question turns into what you're more accustomed to. “Yes, approximately…” you inhale sharply. “Forty three. Two unintentionally, the rest with various…weapons.” You mindlessly play with the loose thread of your blazer to get rid of the flashing images in your head. “As for why, that's confidential information.”

The robot or the person behind the screen seems to accept your vague answers for it moves on with the interview.

> Favourite food?

Your eyebrows knit at the sudden turn of question. “Uh, I have a sweet tooth, ice cream. I think. But I can't resist good popcorn.” Your tone wavers at the end.

> Have you been in love?

You laugh, but the question still flashes on screen, unchanged and unamused. Clamping up, you feel for the rubber on your wrist.

“I-I'm sorry but what is this part for?”

The screen remains the same.

“—No,” you remember that they've probably already known everything about you even before you applied. So you decide to answer vaguely, that seems to work out before. “Once, just once.”

> When was the last time you said ‘I love you?’

“A long time ago.”

> To whom?

“You know who.”

—

You're surprised that you got the job even after the disastrous interview. The suitcase is light in your tightly clasped hand. The belongings you've tossed inside are sparse, only packing the ones you only need.

The large wooden door looms in front of you, the street behind you is bustling and right across your new home is an expansive park. A park that looks like you need to pay just to get inside. The neighborhood that you're situated in can be described as exclusive, rich and very suburban. The kind of setting where parents would do anything to raise their kids in. Something you've never thought in your dangerous life to live in, more so even step foot in.

With an exhale, you unlock the door. It clicks open surprisingly, you doubted the company for a second when you pushed it in. Maybe they gave you the wrong address? Maybe something went wrong in their system and your name popped up instead of someone more worthy? Someone who's a better shot, someone who isn't as bat shit insane as you.

The long hallway greets you, the low warm light brings comfort to your rattling bones. Its carpet runner is soft beneath your sneakers, red and blue threads weaved around the thick cloth. Framed art is posted on the walls, the artist's name you recognize from some pretentious reality tv about selling mansions that you once drunkenly watched alone on a friday night.

You leave your baggage in the hallway. Opting to explore the cinnamon scented home. Its rich walls remind you of chocolate that you once got for your birthday. The furniture doesn't look like it came from Ikea, the oak is sturdy under your palm, no rough surface, no protruding nails that slashes your flesh.

You snap the rubber band on your wrist for the umpteenth time today.

There's an ornate door sitting on your right, robins and roses are carved on the wood. The biometric scanner is placed right next to the door, it’s a stark contrast to the traditional home. Flipping the cover open, you place your thumb on the smooth surface of the scanner. After a half second, the door clicks open, revealing a steel elevator. The bright light above it almost blinds you.

Your curiosity makes you enter the steel cage, roaming your eyes, you spot the buttons.

“Might as well.” You say to the emptiness of the house.

As the elevator door closes, the front door opens.

There's a lack of elevator music, perhaps that's the best since you always hated the cheery chiming of it. The second the door opens, you take a peek inside. The weird smell combination of chlorine and butter hits your nose.

“Holy shit,” you mumble in disbelief at the indoor pool and theatre. “A fucking pool under the house? And a fucking theatre screen in front? Which rich fuck decided that?” Your voice echoes, bouncing off the tiled walls of the pool.

Roaming the large room, eyes wide and strides small, you marvel at the high ceilings with the same warm tone lights hidden in the coves to soften the lights. You crouch down, letting the warm water lap at your hand.

There's a handful of sun loungers on the side, tables in between them for drinks and whatever rich people put on it. A projector hangs above the pool, an electrical hazard, you thought and an image of an entire pool party getting electrocuted lingers in your mind. You snap the rubber band against your wrist.

The popcorn machine helps distract you from the intrusive thought. Opening the machine, the popped kernels are still warm against your skin. You quickly scoop up a handful of it in your palm, the butter slicking your hand and your mouth as you eat it like how a baby deer eats grass.

You've had enough of the overly decorated basement, getting back on the elevator, you finish off your popcorn with one big bite. Still chewing, you wipe your hands on your trousers to press the shiny buttons on the elevator. The doors close as you chew loudly, eyes up on the screen showing the floors of the house, you don't notice the stranger standing outside of the opened doors.

Butter on your lips, you almost smack him on his pretty face.

“Christ!” You yelp, almost choking on a kernel.

“Close, but no.” He smirks, eyes flicking at the sheen on your lips.

Your husband, the title echoes in your popcorn filled head. His smile captures your attention, a ten megawatt grin that could power the entire posh neighborhood. His piercings glimmer in the warm light, and your eyes are glued to the ones on his eyebrows. Hazel eyes, the left one seems to be lighter than the other, watercolour eyes stare back at you, scanning your features. If you stare long enough you swear you can see patches of green and gray in those expressive eyes.

“John Smith.” He introduces himself, your husband, your partner. John doesn't raise his ringed hand for you to shake, instead he nods at you, waiting patiently for you to say your name. As if he doesn't know.

Clearing your kernel filled throat, you quickly run your tongue across your teeth (with your mouth closed of course) because you don't want to embarrass yourself further by having popcorn stuck in your teeth.

“Jane, Jane Smith.” You reach towards him to shake his hand, he raises a brow at you in turn.

“I don't do that, love, sorry.”

“Shake hands?”

“Yeah,” he looks to the left of your face, his eyebrow twitches slightly— a tell.

“Are you a germaphobe?” You ask before you could stop yourself.

“Not really, I've got issues…with intimacy.” John shrugs, the metals on his leather jacket clinks together. You think he'd rather be a model or a rock star instead of a spy with how he dresses and carries himself with confidence.

You smile knowingly, “We all do, but you don't have that issue. It's our first day of marriage and you decide to lie to your wife?” You click your tongue, eyebrow raised. “Not a very good first impression, John.”

He'll never get used to being called that basic name. ‘John’ takes your hand, it's warm, searing hot under your slippery hand. You'd thought his warmth would cook your flesh, you guess the butter on your palm would work wonders. You're starting to regret snacking. The calluses on his palm matches your own, a large scar across his palm tells you a story untold. Silver rings decorate his long fingers. There's a more simple silver bracelet on his wrist, a stark contrast to the ornate rings he sports on both hands.

He's handsome, you think, rightfully so. With his chiseled jaw that rivals any greek statue and eyes that could be mistaken for stars; he's tall too, so that's a plus. You lucked out on the fake husband department. Well, there's worse men to fake marry out there. Just judging from first impressions, you're glad he's the one you have on your side,

“How'd you know?” He asks, eyes narrowed.

“I'm very perceptive.”

“Trained?”

“Nope,” you hide your bundle of nerves with your casual tone. His hand is still clasped on your own, you don't notice it. “Just very good at reading people.”

“Did you have a stint at the BAU too?”

Too? You ignore it for now. “No,” chuckling, you finally notice the heat on your palm so you let him go. “Just…natural talent, I guess.”

“What’s under the house?” John asks, stepping aside so you could exit the elevator.

“A beating heart.” You curse yourself, fingers already reaching for the rubber band on your wrist.

To your surprise, John laughs. The sound is genuine, eyes crinkling in the corners. “I got the reference.”

“I figured.”

“I saw a black box in the office, you wanna check it out?” He points behind him with his thumb.

“Why? Do you think there's a beating heart in there too?”

“Maybe.” He plays along, walking beside you. “You never know with the company, for all we know there's a head in there.”

“Morbid.” You joke as he opens the door for you.

“Says you?” John keeps reminding himself of his real name whilst he memorizes the side of your face. He already wants to tell you his real name, not the one assigned to him by the suits behind the faceless screen he has grown familiar with. He says his name in his mind again, if he accidentally blurted it out, well, c'est la vie.

“Says me,” you shrug casually, trying to keep up with his wit and charm. You already think you're losing. You scrunch your face at the painting above the mantle. It's an art of two lovers doing the tango, if tango excludes clothes and includes intense snogging.

He chuckles right next to you, an airy laugh that has you smiling too. “A very brave choice. Not my taste, but whatever floats the company's boat. What's inside is a bit better though.” Your ‘husband’ reaches towards the frame of the painting, gently pressing down, it releases a metallic click as it reveals a secret compartment full of weapons.

You hide a snort behind your hand. The cabinet reminds you of your own. Unimpressed, you flick your eyes down at the office table, the large black box sitting on top of it is just begging to be opened.

Without a second thought, you open it. Taking out the bottle of expensive looking wine, you read the card that is tied in a neat ribbon around the neck.

“‘Good luck on your first day of marriage’” you look at the man beside you. He's incredibly close to you, his elbow grazing yours, lips slightly parted whilst he takes a peek at the wine. He smells of burgundy and leather, it calms your senses for some odd reason. “I prefer coke.” You practically shove the bottle in his hands. The glass clinks against his metal rings.

“The snorting variation or the fizzy one?” He asks, placing the bottle down on the narra table with an almost silent thud.

“The fizzy one.” You take his question at face value. He doesn't question why you don't prefer alcohol. Sitting down on the plush office chair, you open the laptop in front of you. It dings, needing a password to open it. “It needs a—”

Before you could even finish the question, he gives you a scrap of paper from the numerous envelopes inside the box. The password is printed on it with the same font as the one from the piece of paper you held a couple of weeks ago.

You type it whilst he rifles through the box. The home screen pops up, nothing too fancy or out of the ordinary. Except for the single application in the corner that's only labeled as ‘S’

Clicking it, a chat box appears.

> Hihi, follow man

John snakes up next to you, the harsh light from the laptop shines on his pensive face. You return your attention towards ‘your boss’. A picture of a young blond man pops up in the chat, there's a mole near his left eye, he sports dark eyebrows. And a look that says ‘daddy paid for my college!’

> 40.748817, -73.985428

“That's downtown I think.” John pipes up next to you, and you look at him like he just said the sky is green and the grass is blue.

> Take keys, take car. Bring car here

> 51.505554, -0.075278.

“A car?” You rhetorically ask.

“Must be a very expensive car, or an important one.” John answers back as he leans further down to take a better look at the monitor. His hand is on the back of your chair, his necklaces dangle on his neck like a pretty chandelier.

You both wait for more instructions but it doesn't come.

“Hihi isn't very talkative, huh?” Your voice echoes in the awkward silence.

“‘Hihi?’”

“Yeah, I thought I'd give it a nickname.” You think he's weirded out but with an amused laugh he pats your shoulder nonchalantly.

“Cute.” You don't know if he's referring to you, or to the nickname you dubbed your electronic boss. “I've separated our papers.” John says as you still contemplate his last comment. “Here's yours.”

“Thanks.” You scan the pile in your hands. Your own face greets you as you flip through it all.

“It has everything we need. Credit card, ID's, carry permit and a passport.”

“What's that one?” You point at the larger envelope next to John's pile. A smaller black leather envelope sits atop it.

He opens the large envelope, giving you the contents of it. “Marriage certificate. And this one…” shaking the leather envelope, whatever is inside of it clinks. Taking it out, he shows you the gold bands. “...our wedding rings.” Heat rises in your cheeks unavoidably once he says it softly. “May I?” Open palm reaching out, he beckons.

You try to remember which hand wears it. With a split second decision, you place your left hand atop his own. Carefully sliding the cold ring in your marriage finger, you stay locked in on his eyes that's concentrating like he's disarming a bomb.

John pats your hand and then inserts his own ring in his finger, mirroring yours.

“Guess we're married.” You shrug casually like your heart doesn't beat against your ribcage, like it's trying to escape its confines. “It feels kind of weird?”

“We are,” he flashes you his signature smirk. “And we'll get used to it, hm, wife?”

“Yeah, I'll adapt.” You say just barely above a whisper, hands suddenly clammy.

“That's my girl.” Throwing you a wink, he walks away from a flustered you.

Yeah, you got lucky.

—

Morning comes and you had the best sleep you've had in years. Even if you slept on an empty stomach last night, you still slept like a baby on the eight hundred thread count Egyptian cotton blanket. You stare blankly at the beige ceiling, hands roaming around the soft bed sheet like you're making a snow angel. Sleep ridden eyes roam around the expansive master bedroom to which your new husband has graciously let you take.

Speaking of ‘John’, his bedroom is just across your own. Surprisingly enough, he hasn't woken up yet based on the silence in the hallway outside, you hadn't pegged him as a late riser.

Breakfast calls for you when your stomach rumbles loudly, but you're too comfortable to even move from your spot. Something taps from your window that's facing the foot of your bed. A soft tippy tap of something hitting the glass that has you sitting up. Eyes blinking rapidly, you stare off a pigeon perched outside. Its iridescent feathers shine in the early morning sun, its beak tapping rhythmically at the window.

Sliding your hand behind you, blindly grasping at a pillow, you fling it across the room to scare off the bird. The pillow hits your mark and out flies away the annoying pigeon. With a sigh, you get off your ass to get ready for the day ahead. You don't want to be late to your first day out in the field, no use in rotting in your luxurious bed if you can't keep it after you get fired for being late.

You dress for the day and for the cool weather. Spring has come but the freezing temperature has decided to stay for a little while. With a cozy turtleneck and comfy slacks, you forgo the torturous device called ‘heels’ for a pair of trainers. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you shrug with a huff. And you snap the rubber against your skin once again.

Taking the chair off the doorknob and then unlocking the door, you exit your sanctuary. Closing your door softly, you find yourself in front of John's room. Judging from the soft snores, you notice that he’s still sleeping. You might be his fake wife but it's not your job to wake him up. So you continue down the hallway and into the kitchen to fix yourself a bowl of cereal.

Bowl in hand, you chew as you walk up to the rooftop. Unlocking it, the sun greets you with a comfortable heat, and you frown at it. You keep eating whilst you explore the space. There's a bountiful garden in the corner, raised garden beds full of fresh vegetables and fruit that is ripe for the taking. An outside dining area sits in the middle, you recognize the long table from a catalog you once read to pass the time at the dentist. You remember that it doubles as a grill and leg warmer in the winter.

“Fancy,” you murmur with your mouth full of grainy goodness. Sipping the leftover milk in the bowl, you place it on the expensive table to crouch down next to a bushel of strawberries to sniff. “Almost ripe,” you figure from the softness of the fruit.

A bird flies above you, it's shadow casting over you. With the sound of fluttering wings, the bird perches on the table, black orbs staring at you, head tilting like it's observing your presence.

“Are you the same fucking bird?” You question the pigeon. It coos at you, and then pecks at the ceramic of your discarded bowl. “Motherfucker—” standing up, you have the look of someone ready to square up with the feathered creature.

“Why are you fighting an innocent bird?” John appears with a mug of tea in his hand. You forgot to make tea.

“I wasn't fighting with it.”

“He,” your partner crosses the distance, the bird doesn't fly away from the close proximity. You raise an eyebrow at that. “might be hungry.” He gestures towards the strawberries behind you with his chin. “Think you can grab us one, lovie?” You're gonna need some time to get used to that term.

“It's not ripe.”

“I don't think he's picky.”

“It's too sour, it might upset his stomach.”

“He's a pigeon, he's used to eating shit off the pavement. I think that's fine, love.”

With an awkward nod, you pick the one that's redder than the rest. Throwing it towards John, he catches it with a practiced hand. He sits down before laying the fruit in front of the bird. You watch it unfold, the pigeon hops on the table, beak pecking at the seeds. You're intrigued at their interaction.

John sips at his drink, still in his sleep clothes. Toned arms in full display from the loose tank top he sports. Pajama pants hanging low on his hips, silk bonnet on his head. He only has one sock on his feet, you tilt your head.

“What happened to your sock?” You point at his bare foot curiously.

“Hmm?” He looks down, and he chuckles like he just realized the missing article of clothing. “Don't know, probably kicked it off while I was sleepin’”

“Oh,” you blink, “you should get ready, we might miss our target.”

He fakes salutes at you, drinking casually from his mug as you leave the rooftop. He doesn't miss how you didn't take your dish with you. Sighing, he watches the pigeon eat his fill.

—

You and John arrive at a pub. It's dim inside with only a few miserable patrons sitting sparsely at different corners of the musty establishment. They all look miserable, all having expressions from different points of the human emotion. But there's only one face you're observing— your target.

He sits alone on the bar stool, back hunched, eyes red and nursing a half filled pint of beer. Holding his face in his hand, blond hair raked in between his fingers, bomber jacket hanging loosely on his form, bags under his sagging eyes. He's the picture of someone who's on the bottom of the barrel.

John guides you with his hand hovering on your back. Not touching, at the same time still close, you are supposed to be a couple after all. You slide into a booth that has the perfect view of the target, but still out of his sight and out of earshot. The leather seat is worn down, tiny bits of it are ripped, at least it's not sticky. He orders for you, and you observe how he slyly roams his eyes towards the man, looking out for the keys.

He comes back with a plate of chips and dip. “Thought it would be weird not to order anythin’”

“Good call,” you take a chip whilst your eyes only briefly leave the target's back. “Thought you'd buy me a pint.”

“Did you want a pint? This early? Do you want to talk about it?” He half jokes as he takes a smaller chip.

“No,” you scoff, “and no. I just thought you'd order it instead of this.”

“You're not the only perceptive one in this relationship.” John looks over his shoulder to quickly do a once over at the forlorn man.

“Did you see where he's keeping it?”

“Inside his jacket, right side.”

You nod, “Is he carrying?”

“Not that I can tell.” He shrugs, licking the salt off his finger. “So, why'd you join?”

“Really? We're doing that?” You watch as the man gulps down his remaining drink and then orders a new one immediately.

“Yes, we're doin' that. Won't that make us work better together? To get to know each other a bit more?”

“Fine,” you silently huff. “No one else would take me, this is a last resort, I guess?”

“Bullshit, love, I think anyone would be happy to have you in their…agency?”

“Flattery won't get you anywhere, birdman.” A small smile appears on your lips, he beams at you. “Besides, who else is hiring for someone with the specific skill set that I have?”

He hums, while turning subtly to take a peek at the target. Returning his attention to you after seeing the blonde man still hunched in his stool, John takes another chip. “True, did you get kicked out from the last one?”

“Not really,” you stare at the crack on the wooden table. “You?”

“Not really,” he shrugs and you roll your eyes.

“You MI6?” He asks casually. “This your first time in London?”

“I'm not answering either of those questions.”

“C’mon,” he wiggles his left hand, the wedding band shines in the pub light. “Husband, remember? ‘sides, I won't tell anyone.”

You place your elbows on the table, smiling sarcastically at him. After a beat for his anticipation, you grin wider. “No.”

His shoulders fall, a chortle escaping his lips. “Cheeky.” Pointing an accusing finger at you, he quickly looks behind him, only to find the target sluggishly exiting the pub. “He's on the move.”

You both follow the drunk man like gravity is pulling you towards him. Walking the streets of busy downtown London, stranger's faces whizz past you. John has his hands casually in his pockets, yet he stays close to you, eyes flicking in the corners to check on you.

“Why don't you ask me a question? Y’know tit for tat?” He waits patiently for you to answer back, hell he'll even take a grunt at this point.

“Okay,” you surprisingly start the conversation on his behalf. “Have you killed anyone?” The passing pedestrians don't seem to notice you and the morbid subject.

Your partner snorts, nose scrunched up, eyes glued on the staggering target. “Nah. Have you?”

“I call bullshit,” you dodge a distracted woman scrolling on her phone. “Anyway, I have. I'm not exactly proud of it or flaunting it if you're thinking that I'm doing that.”

“Good, once you start flaunting it like a bloody trophy, you've lost it.”

You hum in agreement, the sound of a deep rumble in your chest as you two turn a corner. “Why do you think hihi needs us to nick the car?”

“Hihi” he chuckles, you turn to him with a serious face. “There's probably a stash of confidential information in the trunk or somethin’”

“Maybe a stash of weapons?” The man in front of you stumbles. “I don't see him as the type to harbor secret documents.”

John nods, “a highly infectious disease then?”

“Christ, we better drive carefully once we get a hold of it.” You turn to him briefly. “Maybe it's a really expensive sports car and he's all sad and mopey because he's gone broke after buying it?”

“Got a whole story now, huh?” He pushes you lightly with his leather clad shoulder, and you smile softly. “You good at pickpocketing him?” Your partner gestures with his chin, said target is walking into traffic. He seems unbothered by the oncoming vehicles. John curses under his breath.

“We should do that now before he kills himself.” You speed walk across the crossing, grabbing the drunk man before a car hits him.

Arms enveloping around his bomber jacket, swiping him away and quickly carrying him to the footpath, you save him before an suv hits you both. The car honks loudly and angrily as your target groans in your arms like he's about to hurl the contents of his stomach.

John punches the hood of the car, pointing at the driver accusingly. A distraction for you to take the keys hidden in the man's jacket.

“You almost hit my fuckin' wife, you wanker!” Your partner yells, covering the sound of jingling keys in your expert hand. He plays the part well.

Surprisingly, the target straightens up in your hold, a split second after you pocketed the car keys inside your own coat.

“Y-you,” he slurs, feet struggling to keep himself upright. “Dickhead!” Slamming his fists on the hood with a loud *thunk, he joins John who gives you a look and a shrug. The drunken yelling gets louder and the driver now exits his car with an equally angry look.

John takes this opportunity to come back to your side, hand holding your elbow, he leads you away from the screaming match as more and more people try to intervene.

“Got it?” He whispers closely to the shell of your ear, sending goosebumps to rise in your arms.

“‘course I did.” You jingle the keys inside your pocket. “I'm not an amateur.”

Playing along, he laughs, hand still holding your elbow softly. “Good job, missus.”

With an awkward chuckle, you lean away from him. “Just so you know, I'm not in this for…the romance.” You bite the inside of your cheek. “I'm not looking to date my co-worker.”

John raises his hands in mock surrender. “Fine by me. if the situation calls for us to actually act as a couple—”

“We'll act as a couple, I won't fuss if that's what you're saying.”

“Good, now let's get this bloody car.”

—

“A fucking ‘99 toyota corolla?” You stare in disbelief at the rusting metal. “At least it's one of the good models.” Kicking the wheel, you expect it to tumble over like in an old timey cartoon.

John is crouched way down to check the bottom of the car. “It's clear.” He stands up fully, cleaning his hands on his jeans. You wince at his movements. “What?”

“Nothing.” You open the driver's side, the smell of alcohol and something musty hits your nose. “Nasty.” Coughing, you air it out by opening another door.

“You know your cars?”

“A little bit.” You say with your nose pinched. Sparing him a look, he stands in the parking lot like he's still waiting for the rest of the story. “What?”

“Throw me a bone here, love.” You roll your eyes. “Why do you know so much about cars?”

“I said I know a little bit.” You place your hands on your hips like an exasperated mother whose son keeps asking weird questions about dinosaurs. “I dated a mechanic.” You say flatly.

“Really? Did you date a pickpocket too? Or do you date people so you could absorb their skills like kirby?”

“Are you jealous?” You tease him with a comment you didn't have the foresight that it would backfire.

“We are married.” He says matter-of-fact with a killer smirk and eyes glinting with mischief. “And this is technically our honeymoon so—”

“Get in the fucking car, birdman.”

—

The wheel is sticky under your hands, you have an intense urge to wash your hands or to at least grab a sanitizer. Apparently your disgust shows on your face, for John chortles next to you.

“What?” You say through gritted teeth.

“Nothin’, you just look like someone shat in your tea.”

“The wheel is sticky.”

“I have a handkerchief with me, d’you want me to?” Taking out the dark green cloth from his jean pockets, he's already twisting in his seat to wipe it clean.

“Please,” you ask softly, hands sliding down to make space for him.

Your hand never left the wheel while he cleans it for you. John's seatbelt is unclasped so he could have more movement, his face is close to your vision, warmth blanketing over you. He's so close that you can smell his cologne, it's a different one from yesterday, it's more flowery with a hint of mint. You spot a hidden mole under his ear. A tiny dot that is just begging to be poked.

Without thinking, you press softly with the pad of your finger. He yelps, flinching away instinctively. Looking at you with wide eyes and mouth agape, you're ready to be called a nasty nickname, or be cussed out with a loud voice. Instead of what you're anticipating, a laugh bellows out, a rumbly laugh that makes you smile and let out an almost silent chortle.

“I think you found my mole.” John holds the side of his neck with a grin. “You let your urges get to you, love.”

“Sorry,” you keep your eyes on the road to hide your embarrassment.

“It's fine, your hand was just cold. Ask me next time, I have a few more cute moles on me.”

“Nevermind, you ruined it.” With a roll of your eyes and a smile, you park at the coordinates. “Nice acting back there, I see an Emmy nomination for you in the future.”

“Thanks, I barely remember what I said. You sure this is the place?” John peeks at the map pulled up on your phone. “Shit, we're here.”

The entire street is suburban, large colonial houses lining the sides, tall pine trees decorate the sidewalks. There's not a lot of people walking by, save for a couple pedestrians walking their dogs, the place is devoid of people.

“What now?” You unclasp your seatbelt to twist around in your seat so you could observe the neighborhood.

“Hihi told us to bring it here, so maybe we should—?” John lets out a high pitched scream that also has you yelling in surprise, not from whatever made him shriek but from the sound that escaped him. “What the fuck!”

Leaning slightly to look at what had his knickers in a bunch, you stare blankly at a bespectacled man in a bespoke suit. The man gives you and your partner an apologetic look, he points for John to open the window.

He turns towards you with an eyebrow raised. “Should I?”

“Yeah, I think you should.”

“What if he's got a gun?” He whispers.

“We also have guns, John. I'll cover you, don't worry. Maybe this is what hihi asked us to do.”

“Easy for you to say, you're not the one opening it.” He gives you a glare before rolling the window down an inch. “Hi, mate. What can we do for you?”

“The car,” the stranger points a lengthy finger at the wheel. His voice is crackly and gravelly, like he just smoked a pack of cigarettes before he went up to the car. “You're late, but that doesn't matter. How much do I owe you, folks?”

“Uh, the usual.” You say with fake confidence.

“Good,” the lean man straightens up, “mind gettin’ out of the car then?”

“Right, sorry, bruv.” John, gives you one look before exiting the car. He's nervous and so are you.

As the doors shut, the man flexes his open palms expectantly for the keys, to which you hand off immediately. He gives you bad vibes, maybe your intuition tells you to run for the hills.

“Thank you, sweetheart. I'll wire the money to the usual account.” The nickname sends shivers down your spine.

He closes the door and starts up the car. With a splutter of the exhaust, he slowly drives away. You and John watch, standing side by side in the middle of the street in confusion.

“He was weird, right? Not to mention it was too easy.” You turn your head to look at him. “Maybe they're trying to ease us in?”

“It was all weird, not just him—” A blast coming from the car interrupts him, the sheer force of it sends you two down on the rough pavement.

Your cheeks are incredibly warm from the searing heat of the bomb. The light from it blinds the two of you.

Palms skinned, trousers slashed at the knees, your ears ring loudly like an annoying buzz from a broken microphone. Coughing loudly, smoke fills your lungs, debris is scattered around the once pristine neighborhood. There's blood on the concrete, you can't hear John calling for you, your vision is blurred by the cloud of smoke. His hand reaches for you, and your instincts tell you to run.

“Fuck!” He yells, running beside you at full speed. “What the fuck!”

“Keep running!” You yell as he turns around to check on a woozy you. “I'm fine!”

Someone behind you screams for you to stop so you and your partner run faster. Knees aching, thighs burning, you don't stick around to look who's running after you. The unmistakable click of a gun’s safety is loud in your eardrums, even if your lungs threaten to give out, you sprint right next to John as he turns a corner and into a carwash.

The smell of soap and heavy pine scented car freshener hits your bloody nose. He tugs you towards the plastic curtains and inside what you presume as the employee lounge, someone yells after you but it falls on deaf ears as you and John continue your escape.

Exiting the establishment, the metal doors open to a messy alleyway. Boxes upon boxes of trash and god knows what are littered all around. The pungent smell makes you want to hurl, or maybe that's the adrenaline having a weird effect on your stomach.

You two find reprieve for a second, huffing, trying to get oxygen back in. Hands on your aching thighs, the concrete below you slowly turns crimson as your mysterious injury drips precious blood on the messy ground.

“You're bleedin’” He says in between inhales. There's rustling of fabric next to you, and you feel the warm cloth placed on your forehead.

“No shit, Sherlock.” Waving the drenched cloth away, you scoff lightly. “Don't.”

“What am I supposed to do? Let you bleed?”

You stand up straight, blood coating your lashes as you stare at him. “I've got a better idea.” Placing your palms on the source of the pain, you let your blood coat it.

“What—?” You roughly smudge the warm ichor all over his face and shirt, the plain white of his t-shirt turns a dark pink shade with your touch. Leaning away, he gives you a slow nod of understanding. “Ease us in, huh?”

“I'm rarely wrong and this is one of the rare instances.”

“Let's hope you're right about this one.”

—

You kick the backdoor open with ferocity. It bangs loud against the wall, getting the restaurant staff's attention.

“Help please! My husband!” John's limp arm is around your shoulders, your hand gripping on to his waist to add that one detail that would convince them of your innocence. “There was a bomb!” You don't let the bystanders touch you or John whilst you quickly lumber through their dinghy bathroom. There's murmurs and chairs scraping on the tiled floors as you lock the door behind you.

The bathroom is small, tiles yellowed from the years, the stench of bleach itching your nose. The lightbulb above you whirs like it's about to burst out. He leaves your side to take off his bloodied jacket, tossing it outside from the window— his exit, you presume.

“Your phone.” He holds his empty hand out to you, when you only raise an eyebrow at him, he sighs, eyes turning soft, adrenaline melting out of his system. “Please, c’mon, love, you got me sayin’ please and shit.”

“What for?” You try desperately to wipe the blood off your face.

“To contact you, just in case you need help.”

“I can handle it.”

“I know you can, how else did you get the job then? Just let me,” his voice wavers a bit but he corrects himself with a timed clear of his smoke filled throat. “Please, Jane.”

After pausing, you take your phone out from your pocket to give it to him. He enters his number after seeing your home screen of a basic mountain range.

“There.” Giving the phone back, you expected him to give his too, but he doesn't as he's already halfway out of the window. “I'll see you at home?”

You let out a chuckle, “yeah, I'll see you at home.” He gives you one last smile as he exits the small bathroom and into the streets where numerous sirens go off from ambulances and fire trucks.

—

It was a blur the entire trip home, you bought a loose hoodie from a thrift store and then promptly discarded your blood soaked coat in the bottom of a dumpster. It was a shame though, you liked that coat, it had real wool in the lining. The uber drive was thankfully uneventful, if the driver noticed the remnants of dried blood on your skin he didn't mention it. You gave him five stars for it.

An empty house greets you, John's shoes are nowhere to be seen in the hallway, nor his jacket. You worry for a second, mind rushing through possibilities. The rubber band burns as you pull it back and release it with a harsh thwack against your skin.

The water is cool as you shower, your blood mixing in and pooling around your feet and into the drain like a macabre whirlpool. You don't let your mind wonder about the man that you turned into a street pancake. Instead, you focus on yourself in the mirror.

You stare at the gash near your hairline, the skin around it is angry, leaving a throbbing sensation. There's also a few scratches on your face, especially around your chin. Your main concern is the large gash. It doesn't look like it needs to be stitched together though, which is a good thing since you don't have the energy to even tend to the tiny scratches on your palms. Cleaning and bandaging the wound, you put on clean pajamas and head to bed.

You stop in your tracks when you see John lying face down on your bed. Still in his iron soaked clothes, save for the jacket. You glare at his boot, it's off the bed but you still grit your teeth at the thought of it grazing your bedsheets.

He senses your presence, and he lifts his head up, chin helping prop himself up. “Your bed is better than mine.” His multi coloured eyes are laced with exhaustion, dull yet there's still a spark when he looks at your annoyed gaze.

“Who are you? Goldilocks?”

“Yeah, I ate your porridge too.”

“Damn, not my porridge.” Too tired to fight him, you slither into bed next to him, an arm's length away from his equally tired body. Staring at the ceiling, you feel his eyes on you. “What's up with your eyes?”

“It's called heterochromia—”

“I know what it is, I'm asking why you're staring at me like you're about to devour me.”

“I could devour you if you want.” He says nonchalantly but with the charisma of a man who knows what he's talking about.

“Maybe next time.” You blindly pat his shoulder which ended up with you patting his cheek. He hums at your touch, a deep rumble that you felt through the mattress. “Not bad for our first day huh?” Lifting your hand away, he twists on the bed to mirror your position. Now you're both gazing at the beige ceiling like it owes you money.

You're tired but for some reason you're fighting off the sandman from sprinkling sand in your heavy eyes.

“I lied back there, I've killed before.” His voice is merely above a whisper but you heard it as loud as a trumpet blaring in your ears.

“I know, you wouldn't be here if you haven't.” You answer with empathy. “If it makes you feel better, I've been to London before. Twice, on a family trip and a decade later…on vacation.”

“Glad to know.” He taps the inside of your elbow as a thank you for trusting him. “You CIA?” He blurts out above the comfortable silence.

“God no.” You truthfully say.

“And here I thought you're an alumni of the culinary institute of America.”

For the first time in years, you let out the loudest laugh you could muster. Snort and all.

Your ‘husband’ joins in with his own rambunctious laughter, the bed shakes at the loud guffaws. The happy sound fills the room, and your heart feels like it isn't as heavy as before. It's still there, the heaviness, but it isn't as cumbersome. You now realize that you've only snapped the rubber band on your wrist a couple times today.

An annoying tapping sound interrupts you both. Simultaneously sitting up by the elbows, you two tilt your head at the intruder.

“It's that pigeon again.” You actually smile at the thought of the same bird coming back to your house like a white strand of hair that keeps growing even after you've pulled it out. “I think we should name him. Something like Terry or Flanders.” You chuckle softly.

“Jeff.”

You shake your head. “Nope, doesn't suit him, what if it's a she?”

“His name is Jeff.” John turns to look at you, eyes full of certainty.

You turn to him, blinking rapidly in realization. “He's yours. He's your bird, isn't he?”

“You are insightful.” He smiles, a soft one that fills you with endearment that you haven't felt in years. “Met him a few months ago, fed him once and now he wouldn't leave me alone. I guess he followed me here too.”

“Y’know, pigeons are really smart, kinda like crows. He probably thinks you're his daddy.”

“Does that make you Jeff's mummy?”

“I don't want to be Jeff's mom.” Said bird taps on your window again, like he senses that you're currently talking about him.

“Too bad,” he raises his marriage finger, showing you the gold band. “He's our kid, love.”

You smile, hiding it with a huff and by laying back down with a gentle thump.

“Can I tell you somethin’?” His face pops up in your vision, you nod in place. “My real name is—”

“Let me stop you right there.” You sit back up, almost hitting his head with your own at how fast you sat. “There's a reason why they gave us fake names. Whether we like it or not, It's John,” You point at him. “And Jane Smith.” You point at yourself. “Until they dismiss us, that's our names. Not whatever you were about to tell me.”

“But you know it's not our names, right?”

“Of course I do. You don't look like a John, John.”

“And you don't look like a Jane. I just…” He sighs. “Just want someone to know my real name. We almost died back there, what if we stayed a minute longer inside that car? What then? I don't want to die with someone else's name written on my grave.” His words are genuine, but it sounds like he has said these words before.

Still, you sympathize with him. You've gone undercover before, taken someone’s name instead of yours for months. Those missions were so long and tiring that you almost forgot your own name. But it was…survivable because he was with you. John has no one, and this time you have no one. No one that calls your real name, no one that can identify your body if you suddenly croak in the middle of a mission.

No one else but John and Jane Smith.

So with bated breath, you give him the go ahead. “Okay, tell me. But I can't promise that I'll call you by that name.”

“Don't want to get in trouble with hihi?”

“No,” you scoff. “I don't give a shit what that robot says. I just don't want to die with a stranger's name. So fuck it, tell me yours and I'll mine.”

He smiles the same smile that he gave you before he went out of that dinky bathroom window. The smile that reassures you, a smile that tells you everything will be alright.

“It's Hobie,” Hobie finally says. “Hobie Brown.”

“It suits you better. Thought it was Jeff.” You whisper, and you give him your real name. The same name you were born with, not the fabricated ones your former agency has given you, not the ones your new company has given you.

He whispers back your name, tongue rolling off it like honey. Then, Hobie smiles again, nodding and those heterochromatic eyes bore into you comfortably like the sun's rays kissing your skin in the summer.

“You look like one. Definitely suits you better than Jane.” You smile shyly as you lose the fight against sandman.

In Hobie's mind, he hopes that knowing your real name is enough, enough to keep you alive, enough of an incentive for him to keep you safe, since you're not just a typical Jane anymore that the company randomly selected for him, no, you're Y/N L/N, and he'll do anything to protect you better. Because maybe, just maybe, knowing your real name this early would work, and you'll outlive all the Janes that he himself has outlived.

As you fall asleep next to him, he stares at Jeff the third. In that luxurious house, within those bulletproof walls, and in your room lies a deep anger in him. An anger that keeps him sane in all those years trying to pay his debt. He needs to end the cycle, not just for him but for all the agents that are in the same shoes as him. For now he lets you sleep soundly, for now, he plots the demise of the people behind the screen.

The laptop flashes a new message from the company.

> Mission complete: 3 fails remaining

> Good job, next mission?

Support banner by @cafekitsune ❤️

A/N: thank you for reading!!! Please consider reblogging if you liked it ❤️❤️❤️

#1k special #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #the kr8tor's creations #atsv fanfiction #atsv fanfic #atsv x reader #atsv hobie #hobie brown x fem!reader #hobie brown x you #hobie x reader #hobie fluff #spy au #mr and mrs smith au #spy! hobie au #spy! hobie #spy! hobie x reader #cw food mention #tw blood #cw violence mention #tw death #cw vomit mention

[rallamajoop]

The Complete Guide to Eye Colour In Resident Evil 7

An addendum to my guide to eye colour in RE8: here's everyone from RE7 too! Getting close-ups of these was way harder than for RE8, because RE7 does not come with a model viewer, so I'm stuck using in-game screenshots and promotional images.

Once again, we'll start with the cheat-sheet version:

The whole Baker family: Blue (except when...) Mia: Brown (FOR NOW) Eveline: Green Alan: Hazel/green Deputy OneSceneWonder: Brown Chris: Hazel/brown (FOR NOW) Clancy, Andre and Peter: Brown Ethan: Still hazel

But it can never just be that simple, can it? So, further notes below.

The Baker Family

The Baker family all have blue-grey eyes. In fact, post-infection, they all have the exact same blue eyes (see top line in comparisons below). You could maybe put this down to genetics for Zoe and Lucas, but when Jack and Marguerite have the same eyes as each other too, that's when you start wondering just how many backwater-hillbilly-stereotypes are in play here.

Mind you, they do have slightly different eyes in the pre-mould flashback that is the Daughters DLC, which you can see in the second row above. All are brighter blues, pre-infection, and Jack gets smaller pupils while Lucas gets a slightly larger iris (Zoe gets nothing, as she's the viewpoint PC and we're not redoing her face if you're not going to see it). So maybe we can hope there's some genetic diversity in the Baker-clan (renders of their eyes in their actual faces also look a little more distinct, but maybe that's a lighting thing). Either way, the Bakers = blue eyes! Got it!

And then we meet Uncle Joe in the other DLC who... has hazel eyes?

IDEK, maybe Uncle Joe's real dad was a different mailman.

Once we get deeper into mould-monster territory though, things do get a little more interesting.

Both Marguerite and Lucas appear with much creepier whitened eyes later in the game ‒ Marguerite's during her boss-fight transformation. Lucas, however, remains steadfastly human-shaped throughout the main campaign, but his eyes are whitened in his video message to Ethan, and in his (pre-monstrous transformation) DLC appearances too. Jack, by contrast, doesn't seem to get new eye textures even after blowing off the top of his own head, or in the boss fight that follows (monster!Jack from the fight in the boat house has completely different eyes, of course, and more of them). Mia, too, has her own set of creepy-alternate-mould-monster-eyes, but they're completely different again.

So what's the internal logic here? I could speculate that Lucas' eyes-only transformation is a sign he's in control of himself in a way Jack and Marguerite aren't, but it doesn't quite add up. If anything, those eyes make more sense as something Lucas was given because we never see him transform like Marguerite, or blow pieces of himself away like Jack: Lucas may look human, but the eyes are there to remind us he's not. There'll always be some details that end up being more about effective storytelling than cohesive lore.

Interestingly, though they don't appear in the game, there are also promotional pics of all four members of the Baker family with glowing white/silver eyes, which are definitely a supernatural feature. It's tempting to try and associate the effect with Rose's glowing eyes from the Shadows of Rose DLC, or perhaps even the general pale-grey-eyes of Miranda and the Lords (more on both in my post on eyes in RE8). But that's territory that really needs its own post or we'll be here all day.

Clancy, Andre and Peter

These are the three ill-fated crew of the Sewer Gators tape you'll encounter early in the game. You may notice Peter (rightmost in the pic above) seems to have even more dilated pupils than the majority of the cast. Amusing as it might be to theorise that he's just on drugs or something, I think there is an explanation: the closest shot we see of his face (and the first shot of the tape) is a close-up into a camera while the team is outside in the dark. His pupils would naturally be dilated in this sort of environment.

So why aren't Andre's dilated too? Well, the closest look we get at his eyes (also pictured) are the final shot of the tape, where he's already dead, and his eyes are covered by a red film. Medical plausibility aside, dilated pupils presumably didn't add to the effect here, so Andre gets regular pupils.

Speaking of assets, there is actually one photo of the three of them in the game, from the pamphlet you can find in their van at the start. You can even almost make out Clancy's face!

Clancy's own eyes are their whole own kettle of worms, but we'll get to that below.

Chris Redfield

Is an odd one: I can't share an eye-texture asset for Chris, because he doesn't actually have a character model at all in the main RE7 title. And explaining that one is gonna take some context.

While RE8 renders nearly all cutscenes using in-game models, RE7 stores far more of its major cutscenes pre-rendered in .wmv format. The opening is pre-rendered, video messages from Mia and Lucas are pre-rendered ‒ even the big moment when Eveline blows out the windows of the tanker and throws Mia into the river is pre-rendered. Not all cutscenes work this way, but basically anything that would require loading a lot of assets that aren't needed in gameplay (eg. the view of the river and tanker for outside) seems to have been pre-rendered as a video instead.

And since Chris' only scene in all of RE7 is in the pre-rendered ending sequence, he doesn't have a model at all (or at least, I couldn't find it). We do see Chris in openings and endings of the Not a Hero DLC as well, and the End of Zoe ‒ but these too are just .wmv files, presumably for all the same reasons.

Now, obviously, Chris is also playable in the DLC, so he does have a character model there. But we still don't get eye textures for him for a couple of reasons: firstly, he wears a face-concealing mask that only comes off for opening/ending cutscenes. But even without it, we might just hit other weirdness surrounding player character models...

As I've already noted, both Chris and Mia get completely different new blue eyes in RE8, but back in RE7, Capcom seemed a little more aware that brown or hazel eyes were a real thing regular white people do have sometimes.

A note on player-character models

Although we mostly just see the hands of whoever we're playing as (usually Ethan), gameplay still uses a full-body model, presumably to aid in rendering dynamic shadows, and give enemies something to cover in blood. Things get weird around the character's head, which isn't actually visible so it can't get in the way of the camera floating inside it, but will still cast shadows and still has textures associated with it (though usually in much lower resolution than other models we'll actually get to see). There are three playable characters in RE7 proper: Ethan, Mia, and Clancy (from the video tapes) ‒ each with their own model and textures.

Ethan and Mia also have more detailed 3rd person models, since we see plenty of Mia playing as Ethan, and a little of Ethan playing as Mia (if only from behind).

Why does this matter? Well, distinct as the three PCs are otherwise, their player models all have the same eyes ‒ top row above shows Ethan, Mia and Clancy, in that order. And they look nothing like Ethan's and Mia's eyes have ever looked elsewhere, which you can see in the comparison below.

I mention this mostly because it's pretty easy to find Ethan's player-model in the game files, note those generic-hazel eye textures with it, and go, "hey, you got his eyes wrong!" But these aren't the same eyes that come with his higher-res texture, or the ones that were copied over into RE8. In fact, the existence of the player-character-default-eye-texture back in RE7 is one of the reasons why I do tend to take full-res Ethan's eyes as 'canon', even though we never see them in either game: someone took the time to repaint Ethan's eyes for his full-res model, and make them distinct from the low-res default used for everyone in 1st person mode. That at least suggests there was some real, intentional effort put into deciding what colour eyes Ethan was supposed to have.

This does leave poor Clancy in more ambiguous territory, however: as he's never seen by any other character, he has no high-res model, and thus no eyes but the default-hazel that Mia and Ethan are rendered with in that mode too. So is this to be taken as Clancy's official eye colour? It may as well be, I suppose. We see so little of Clancy in any form that I was genuinely surprised to find out his he's actually got a player model which is completely distinct from anyone else in the game, with curly greying hair, a neckbeard, and a baseball cap worn backwards.

Render by nightsatkendalls over on deviantart.

I do not have the skills to produce a render of this quality myself, but I can tell you that the cap he's wearing has the logo for the RE Engine on the front (the in-house game engine behind all the modern RE titles, and many other Capcom games).

You'll never see it in game, of course ‒ you'd need both a freecam mod and a mod to make his head visible. But it's there as a weird little easter-egg nonetheless.

Eveline

Eveline is perhaps the only character whose model may not have been updated at all for RE8, but given she's only a hallucination or ghost, that stands to reason. In RE7 though, she also appears as her aged 'grandma' self, who pops up around the house in her wheelchair looking spacey. Grandma-Eveline has two different eye texture assets ‒ one far more washed out than the other. There's next to no good official pictures of her, but fortunately, since she doesn't move around or attack you, she was one of the very few characters I was able to get a decent close-up shot off with the free camera mod. And inasmuch as you're ever in a position to look her in the eye in game, only the faded version of her eyes ever seems to show up. Is the clearer version actually used somewhere I didn't catch? I have no idea.

What really stands out about granny-Eveline's eyes, though, is that they don't look anything like her child-self's eyes do. Child-Eveline is basically the only character in either game with distinctly green eyes. But Granny's are hazel, and not even a particularly similar shade of hazel.

In fact, they look far more like the generic-default hazel of the player character textures than they do like her younger self. Close-up comparisons below.

You could speculate that it was deliberate that Granny-Eveline's eyes don't look anything like kid-Eveline's eyes to avoid tipping off the player that they're one and the same ‒ but realistically, no-one without free camera mods is ever going to get a good enough look at either of them to notice. And it's kind of a shame they didn't just take young-Eveline's eyes and apply the same kind of distortions they seem to have applied to the generic-hazel template to age them up ‒ that would've been a lovely, creepy little detail to find in these textures. But no, generic old hazel it is.

Then again, whatever the real logic at play, the fact Granny-Eveline's eyes are effectively a faded, distorted version of the very same eyes the player themselves never does get to see in the mirror is a pretty creepy idea itself. And intentional or not, that's what I've got to leave you with.

#Resident Evil 7 #Resident Evil #Ethan Winters #Mia Winters #Joe Baker #Marguerite Baker #Zoe Baker #Lucas Baker #Eveline #Alan Droney #Clancy Jarvis #Peter Walken #Andre Stickland #RE assets #unused assets #eye colours

[raspberrysmoon]

a small collection of grace headcanons that im using for a fic right now:

- autism. ruth and richie are suspicious that she has it, but her parents never saw a need to take her to a doctor- they just gave her what she needed when she needed it (modeling this after a friend of mine and also myself)

- adores the story of anastasia. favorite movie. comfort movie. she knows every line. can talk for 4 hours about the real story

- very very good relationship with her parents. shes the light of their life and she would never dream of leaving them. usually.

- has three very specific safe foods, but loves trying new things. her foods are orange starbursts, cheddar cheez-its snapped and peach yogurt

- owns, like, a dozen spare bibles. she takes a spare one to church every day with her own in case anyone needs or wants one

- you know those annotations that people will do with books? the tabs? thats what graces personal bible looks like

- huge history buff. she especially likes learning world religion. she finds it facinating

- tripped and fell on a boy in 2nd grade and thought it would get her pregnant. the boy was max. he doesnt remember this, but she sure does. she cant look him in yhe eye ten years later.

- cannot wear colors that aren't very light pastels or white. even in socks. it makes her eyes sting. only exception to this is One dark green plaid flannel that someone gives her one day

- huge huge huge bracelet enjoyer. she loves jewelry. earrings, necklaces, rings, she doesnt care. she finds it all so pretty and would love to sell her own creations some day

- carries her bible in that little pink backpack. also carries various snacks- on top of her safe foods she carries salty snacks, protein bars and chocolate bars for people who need salt, sugar or food in general. she gives these out to anyone who needs or wants any (she buys petes favorite chocolate and only gives it to him)

- her house has a cozy little basement and she has her friends down there all the time

- she definitely makes her own birthday cards and presents to give to people. everyone gets a handwritten letter from her

- a mother hen about things like sunscreen and proper diet

#raspy rambles #starkid #hatchetfield #grace chasity #npmd #nerdy prudes must die #raspberry writes #grace npmd #npmd headcanons #pls ask me about her #i love her

[justkindalivin]

Shotgun

a/n: AHHHHH hello!! I’m Lottie and I've been so horrifically obsessed with dealer Ellie that it's not even remotely okay. I had an idea for a fic and instead of requesting it from someone else, I decided why not write it myself! I’ve never posted any fics before bc I’m lowkey ass at writing so if any dialogue is awkward or the grammar is bad I'm so sorry :(  Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy it, have a great day I love you ♡    part 2

I kinda modeled the reader after me subconsciously, so the reader is a bit shy and bi (sorry to my lesbian baddies I luv yall, its only one line). Also, I just made up a random roommate named Sam, very sorry if your name happens to be Sam. 

Summary: After being dragged to a party by your roommate, you escape out to the porch for some air. Not realizing it was already occupied, you end up having a lot more fun at the party than you thought you would 

warnings: language, modern!au, dealer!ellie, weed, shotgunning, collage!au, things get the tiniest bit spicy (only a tad)

wc: 1.6k 

-------------------

The music pounded in your ears as you pushed past all the sweaty bodies in the middle of the room. Parties had never quite been your scene, but Sam had begged you to come with her and that girl does NOT take no for an answer

This all started with Sam bursting into your shared dorm, ripping your headphones out of your ears, and standing beside your desk with her hands on her hips. “Bitch, you never come out with me! It's like all you do is sit in the dorm all day, you gotta get out there!!” She excitedly screamed, pulling you to your closet to pick out what you should wear. 

You and Sam had been randomly paired as roommates but quickly got close despite how different the two of you seemed to be. Sam was always out at parties being social and seemed to know absolutely everyone on campus. You on the other hand... well were almost the exact opposite. You always joked that you were like the crotchety old man of your floor who only left for food or class, and just wants all those damn kids to quiet down while you’re trying to sleep. 

“Sigma Nu is throwing tonight, you HAVE to come with me. I’ll be lost without you please please please!” 

Sam was, in fact, not lost without you. She had practically ditched you the minute some frat boy asked her to play pong with him, leaving you alone and painfully sober in a sea of drunk college kids. As much as you loved Sam, she always seemed to do this whenever you come out with her. She’d beg that it wouldn't be fun without you but would leave as soon as you got there and you’d be stuck on babysitting detail for her drunk ass for the rest of the night. After about the fifth push and second drunk couple not noticing you leaned up against the wall and making out basically on top of you, you decided to leave in search of some desperately needed air. Weaving through sweaty drunk people should be a fucking Olympic sport because holy shit- you barely escaped with your life. After going through the kitchen, you finally found your way to a sliding door, quickly getting it open and stepping out into the cool night air. 

“Jesus christ why did I fucking come here,” you say under your breath, leaning against the porch railing and putting your head in your hands “And I can't even leave because I have to make sure Sam’s okay- god damn it”. Scrubbing your face with your hands, you look up at the sky and get lost in your own head until the sound of someone clearing their throat startles you. 

You quickly whip around, hand on your chest, to look at the other person who has also been occupying the porch without your noticing. A girl with short auburn hair and beautiful green eyes stands leaning up against the house. Her face is dotted with freckles and she’s wearing a comfy-looking flannel over a plain white tee, one hand shoved into the pocket of her jeans and the other holding a joint between two fingers. She is, without a doubt, one of the prettiest girls you’ve ever seen. You’re so entranced by her that you barely even notice when she says something to you. 

“oh...uhm- what?” you oh so eloquently reply, internally debating if you should throw yourself off the porch to make your escape from this awkward ass interaction. The girl smirks as her eyes scan you up and down- if you didn’t know any better you would think she was checking you out. 

“I said are you good? No offense but you kinda seem like you're freaking the fuck out” She repeats, smirk still present on her face as she brings the joint up to take a drag from it, blowing the smoke in your direction.

You blush, embarrassed that someone had been witness to your mini breakdown. “Yeah, I’m good. It's just a lot, you know? I don’t go to parties too often.” As soon as the words leave your mouth you cringe internally. Don’t go to parties a lot? You seriously couldn't think of anything cooler to say? Way to embarrass yourself in front of the hottest chick you’ve ever met. Your downward spiral continues until the girl breaks the quiet with a chuckle

“I get that, frats aren’t really my thing either but I get good business here so... here I am”. You nod your head, looking back up at the sky. “I’m Ellie, by the way. What's your name gorgeous?”. Your face feels like it's on fire, your brain practically short-circuiting trying to process that this actual goddess just called you gorgeous. You quietly tell her your name and when you look back at her, she has a wide smile stretching across her face. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.” 

Holy shit this girl is going to be the death of you. You’re sure that your face is going to melt off from how hard you’ve been blushing, the ability to speak has left you altogether. You’ve had flings in the past, with both boys and girls, but no one has ever been so brazenly interested in you. You find yourself desperate to know more about her, maybe run your hands through her hair and cup her face as you lean in for a- WOAH. You’re goin wild right now, you need to cool down

“So um... what do you sell?” You ask, trying to change the topic and give yourself some time to chill out. Ellie looks at the joint in her hands, then back at you with raised eyebrows. “Right right, sorry stupid question” you huff while looking down, embarrassed yet again by your lack of rizz. Ellie lets out a full-on laugh, pushing herself off the house and making her way over to you.

“You ever smoked before, pretty girl?” she asks while leaning on the railing next to you, so close you can feel the heat radiating off of her. Looking up, you’re surprised to see that her face is so close to yours that your noses are practically touching. 

“A few times, not a ton. I cough a lot though, so it's kinda embarrassing to do it with other people”. Ellie taps off the ash at the end of her joint, seemingly contemplating something before turning her attention back to you

“Well if you’re down to smoke, we can try a different way that maybe will help you cough less. That is, only if you want to”. You’re surprised by how quickly you accept her offer, asking her what she had in mind. Ellie moves from beside you to directly in front of you, planting her empty hand on your waist and bringing the joint she held in her other hand up to your face. “Okay, so it's called shotgunning. Just open your mouth after I take a hit, sound good?”. All you can do is nod, mesmerized as she brings the joint to her lips. The moon reflects off her soft skin, the end of the joint burning a deep orange as she inhales. After her hit, Ellie looks over at you and you do as she said. 

Flicking away what little is left from her blunt, Ellie cups your face with her now empty hand and brings her mouth to yours. As she’s kissing you she blows the smoke into your mouth, but you can barely concentrate, too focused on the feeling of her lips on yours. After only a few seconds, Ellie pulls away but keeps her forehead pressed to yours and you blow the smoke in her face as you both giggle.

You reach up and brush away a bit of hair that had fallen to cover Ellie’s eyes, running your fingers down the side of her face until you are cupping her cheek as well. You look at each other for a beat before you both lean in, lips meeting again. Ellie caresses your cheek before her hand moves to join her other one on your waist, finding their way under your shirt and stroking the skin there. She tries to deepen the kiss, licking your bottom lip which you playfully deny. Suddenly, Ellie pulls away for a moment to lift you up onto the porch railing. Your legs fall open and Ellie steps between them, connecting her lips to your neck and kissing down the side to your collarbone. Letting out a breathy moan, you grip the hair at the base of Ellie's neck and throw your head back. 

-SCHWOOP-

The noise startles you and you pull away from Ellie, much to her annoyance. Looking at the sliding glass door, you notice some obnoxious frat boy has thrown it open. 

“Hey, you deal right? I need a pre-roll if you have em”. Talk about a fucking cock block. Ellie all but growls into your neck, whipping around ready to give this dude the verbal thrashing of his life when you stop her by placing your hand on her shoulder. 

“It's okay, I need to find my roommate and get going anyway. But um... do you have your phone on you? Maybe I can give you my number and we can do this again sometime?”. Ellie smiles at that, pulling her phone out of her back pocket and handing it to you. Feeling bold, you give her one last kiss on the cheek before heading past the frat guy and back into the house.

You really hope she texts you. 

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an: tf kinda noise does a sliding door make? Def not schwoop but thats all my brain could come up with lmao. so thats my first ever fic, my writing could use some work so i’m def open to any feedback! Stay super freaky, have great vagina, I LOVE YAAAA 

#ellie williams x reader #the last of us part two #dealer!ellie #ellie williams #modern!ellie williams #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie williams x female reader

[still-not-over-transformers]

“Strictly Professional”

(Knockout x Reader-insert)

Takes place after the events of Season 1 Episode 11: Speed Metal. An event that left Knockout without his driver-side door.

“Do you know how difficult that is to replace!?”

(Y/N) were bored. Painfully bored. Looking outside a mahogany-lined window pane, you had a stunning unobscured view of the sunset. The rolling hills were a lush green, and the sunset painted the sky gradient hues of gold, crimson, and lavender bordered by a tree-line comprised of spruce, pine, and cedar. It was a gorgeous view you had seen again, and again, and…. Again. (Y/N) sighed. Growing up in a stunning villa in upper New York state had its perks, but despite being able to do whatever you wanted you never seemed entertained. You see, money can buy a lot of things: houses, luxury cars, private jets, trips around the world, etc. But it could never seem to stop the ever-constant boredom you often experienced as nothing was ever unexpected. As if something else was missing.

*BUZZ*

*BUZZ*

*BUZZ*

You looked at your phone to see a reminder you had set for the Exotic Car Show you were attending that evening. You were mostly ready as it was, just touching up your makeup a bit. Then you grabbed your phone and clutch purse before making your way down the spiral staircase to the front doors. You had chosen to dawn an elegant but edgy silver dress with an asymmetrical hem and a single sleeve on the right arm. Your footwear of choice were classic black heels, but with a reasonable pump-height so you didn’t break your ankles. The doors were held open by your family butlers, as you made your way to the curb of the driveway at the front of your family villa.

Your family’s wealth came from a combination of significant shares in various luxury-brand car manufacturers; your father being on the board of directors for Mercedes, and your mother the Logistics Manager also for Mercedes. Obviously the same workplace is how your parents met. Throughout your life, your parents had given you the world, albeit requiring you to maintain a job. So you work alongside your mother as her assistant. For the past month, your mother had been off who knows where in Europe on a business retreat. While you had been invited, you knew it would be nothing but hanging around other snooty rich business-types whom were always dull company. Also, why were rich guys always old and/or ugly?

Your chauffeur was waiting with the car door open. You entered the vehicle and soon you were off to the car expo. On the drive, you had been reading up on the potential reveals and demos that might be at the event. You were primarily excited about the exotic vehicle demos, as you had an appreciation of exotic cars. The horsepower, design, curvatures of the body frame, were nothing short of thrilling.

As your ride pulled up to the event, you exited the vehicle as your chauffeur assisted you. You acknowledged the chauffeur curtly, before entering the event space. There were a few minor celebrities taking photo ops; some wannabe playboys posing near their cars with groupies and models; and then the actual cars themselves scattered about a massive lot. Each vehicle had an attendant to provide information as well as prevent unwanted touching of the cars. You passed a silver Bugatti Chiron, a brand new Corvette Stingray, luxury Jaguar and Cadillac models… But something else caught your eye. A glint of red made you turn and approach a vehicle off to the side.

As you got closer you saw a stunning bright scarlet Aston Martin One-77 with white highlights. You couldn’t deny that this was a sexy-ass car. “Damn…” (Y/N) muttered. You approached the luxury vehicle and drank in its sleek form, the curvature of the design, the stunning richness of the paint job. As you walked around the car, you were jarred at the realization that the driver-side door was completely gone. “What the fuck happened to you?” (Y/N) exclaimed, “Who in their right mind wouldn’t have replaced that by now?” Come to think of it, it was odd that this one car in-particular lacked an attendant which all other cars had present.

With the missing door, the temptation to climb inside was intense. The one thing her family wasn’t big on spending money on were cars. Your parents thought that spending money on lavish vehicles was an unnecessary expense. Fucking ironic. Even if you couldn’t have it, you were going to briefly experience the thrill of having such a stunning vehicle. You climbed into the driver’s seat and drank in the elaborate console, the impeccably clean interior, it even smelled brand new. You gently ran your hands over the steering wheel, imagining what it would feel like to drive it. As you indulged yourself for a moment longer, suddenly you found that the seatbelt was latched around you. “What the fuck? …When did i…?” (Y/N) said in confusion.

Before you knew it, the car shifted into gear and peeled out from its spot. Multiple attendees of the event panicked and flung themselves out of the way. (Y/N) shrieked once before desperately pumping the brakes, but to no avail. When you tried to move the gear shift into neutral, you found that it didn’t budge at all. After a few minutes of sheer terror and panic, you were no longer at the exotic vehicle venue, but instead on the outskirts of the city in a maze of alleyways. As the vehicle finally came to a stop, you heard strange sounds akin to shifting parts and an electronic sound. Before you knew it you were aloft in the air. In the hand of a giant robot who was giving you a highly-offended glare. You were frozen. You struggled to comprehend the situation, wondering if you might have lost your mind.

“Humans have no sense of respect! It’s bad enough that I’m missing a part, but now you decide it’s a bright idea to climb into a vehicle you don’t know” the Decepticon exclaimed. It talked (Y/N) thought. Knockout looked down at the tiny human in his grasp, “I hope you enjoyed the brief joy ride, but I think now I’ll punish you for daring to touch me.” With his free servo, Knockout’s servo transforms into a buzzsaw. You begin to panic, squirming briefly in the grip of the large metal hand around your waist before pausing. “WAIT! WAIT A SECOND AND I CAN HELP YOU!” (Y/N) shouted. The Decepticon raised an optic ridge and paused, “Oh? And how could an insignificant human as yourself possibly help me?” You took a deep breath to compose yourself, clearing your throat before speaking further. “I can replace your missing door. I have resources.”

Knockout was clearly interested in where this was going, as he had been having a nightmare trying to replace that door. “Go on…” You continued, “My job is literally ordering supplies and parts for luxury and exotic cars, I’m pretty sure I can order a replacement for you. Aston Martin One-77 right?” Knockout thought to himself for a moment, wondering when he would have such an opportunity to make himself whole again. The Decepticon turned his helm back towards the helpless human within his grip, “Correct. I see you do know your vehicles, human. If you can indeed supply me with the replacement part I require, I will hold off on exterminating you.”

(Y/N) breathed a sigh of relief, “I can make the call right away, if I would be allowed to reach my phone? And t-trust me, I’m not stupid enough to try to run in these heels.” “So now you make wise decisions. Very well.” Knockout chided before slowly lowering (Y/N) to the ground and releasing you. You briefly adjusted your dress and hair before opening your phone and making a call. You didn’t attempt any funny business, and reached out to one of your business contacts at Aston Martin Works. After a brief amount of small talk, you ordered the part and arranged its delivery. As you ended the phone call, you returned your gaze to the massive robot before you. “Alright I had the part ordered for you. And With express shipping.”

Knockout looked down at you, surprised you hadn’t soiled yourself as most humans would have by now. “And how am I supposed to receive this part? For all I know, if I let you out of my sight you’ll disappear and I’ll be left high and dry” he mused. Finding your confidence you replied to him calmly, “The part will be shipped to my home address at 11am sharp tomorrow. To prove I’m good for it, you can drive me home so you’ll know where to knock if I’m lying.” The Decepticon scientist was taken aback by this human. Giving up her home address so willingly confounded him. Knockout could easily decimate her and her entire home, yet this human was so willing to cooperate despite her best interest. “…You are a very strange human. You do understand I will squash you if you’re lying?” He placed a servo on his hip sassily. You watched his mannerisms and couldn’t help but grin slightly, he was so sassy.

“You are a giant transforming robot with a buzzsaw hand, and I’m not an idiot. I’ll keep my word. Besides, you’ll know exactly where I am since you’ll be taking me home. And stop calling me ‘human’ my name is (Y/N)” you smirked. Knockout raised an optic ridge, albeit impressed with this strange human. “Very well… but touch anything and I will crush you” he said before transforming back into vehicle-form. You took a pause before climbing into the driver’s seat, being careful not to touch anything. As the engine starts, you had expected the same aggressive driving as your previous abduction. To your surprise, the drive was fast but smooth. You tried to avoid speaking as much as possible, not wanting to push your luck, so instead you thought. You thought about the events prior to your encounter and pinched yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. It could’ve been worse to be honest. You could’ve been kidnapped by an ugly white pedophile van. At least you were taken by a sexy Aston Martin.

After what felt like brief moments, your captor arrived at the gates of your family estate. You punched in the security code in the keypad and the gates opened. Knockout pulled up to the front doors and parked. As you tried to exit the vehicle, the seatbelt wouldn’t unlatch and you looked back. “Remember, I’ll be close-by until our deal is seen through” Knockout hummed. You paused, “You sure are untrusting for a robot. I don’t have a car of my own so no worries on me going anywhere.” With that, the seatbelt released and you were able to make it inside of your home. As you climbed the staircase towards your room, you couldn’t help but clutch her chest. You felt a surge of adrenaline and you knew it wasn’t fear. No, this felt more like butterflies… You went into your room and immediately climbed into your bed. As your eyelids felt heavy, your only thoughts were of the intoxicating voice replaying in your mind. Until you fell asleep….

You felt slightly groggy as you awoke the next morning. Slowly as you climbed out of bed you remembered the last night’s events. Just to be sure you hadn’t dreamt it, you rushed to your window to look at the driveway. Sure enough, you saw the red and white Aston Martin parked there. A brief double-honk was audible, and you realized the robot could see you from the window. Your phone buzzed and as you opened it, you saw a security notification from the gates. You approved access and a delivery vehicle made its way up the driveway and delivered the part you had ordered. You made your way outside and signed for the delivery and the delivery employees carefully loaded the part into the Knockout’s trunk. As soon as the delivery men had departed from the property, you approached the driver’s side door and leaned forwards, “Looks like I came through on my promise. Think that makes us square?”

Knockout hesitated briefly before replying, “We shall see. After all you are technically a loose end, knowing of my existence and all. We will see if you’re worth more alive than dead.” As you lingered a moment longer, you couldn’t help but ask a question that had been burning within, “Just in case you do decide to continue doing business with me, may I at least know your name?” Dead silence was the initial response and it lingered in the air for what felt like an eternity. “You may address me as Knockout.” With that, Knockout revved his engine and quickly drove down the driveway and onto the main road. As he gained more distance between himself and the villa, Knockout questioned what he was to do about this human. He could’ve just killed her and be done with it, after all he did have the part he had needed. But a part of him didn’t want to end this odd human. He brushed it off as a start to a strictly professional relationship, and a potential supplier if he needed any more replacement parts in the future.

A couple months later….

After your first encounter with Knockout, you felt reinvigorated. That fateful encounter provided you with more excitement and adrenaline than you had ever experienced. After you had provided Knockout with the spare part, you were certain you would never lay eyes upon that robot again. To your surprise, you would have many more encounters with him. Apparently there were other giant robots whom Knockout would get into battles with, and would result in him needing replacement parts. With each encounter, you found yourself enjoying his company more and more. Finding both yourself and him to be fellow automobile enthusiasts. Your conversations even included some witty banter and jokes here and there. More than anything else, you found that your heart fluttered every time you laid eyes on him. You weren’t quite sure why, but nonetheless you enjoyed being around Knockout.

It was a Thursday afternoon and you had met with Knockout at your villa to provide another spare part, as Knockout had lost a side-view mirror in a scuffle with what you knew as “Autobots.” You had wanted to attempt a more friendly relationship with Knockout, but never wanted to risk it. Today was the day you decided to be bold. After all, you had sent the staff home early. You approached Knockout at the curb of your driveway, “You know, there is an International Auto Show being held in New York tomorrow night that will consist of the most expensive and luxurious vehicles from across the planet. I’ve got a ticket, but I’m afraid I’m short on a stunning ride to show up with.”

Knockout transformed from his vehicle mode and towered over you. He raised his optic ridge, wondering what on earth she was getting at, “You do understand I’m a highly advanced cybernetic being, not a taxi service? Besides, our relationship is strictly… professional and exists because I’ve chosen not to squash you. Yet.” You nod your head as you watch his body language. “Mhm. Mhm. All true, except for the fact I don’t think you’d want to squash me. I think you’ve gotten fond of our “professional” relationship,” she uses air quotes and smirks. “That and I don’t think a vehicle enthusiast such as yourself would want to miss out on an exclusive reveal of new models before the rest of the planet. A shame you’ll squash me and never experience it,” she says with an open smirk.

Knockout turns towards (Y/N) and gives her a look, a servo on his hip in his sassy mannerism, “Now now, I didn’t say no. Honestly it would be embarrassing if you showed up in anything less stylish than yours truly.” You could feel your heart skip a beat as you tried to reply in a nonchalant manner, “So you’re saying yes? I guess it’s a date then. The event starts at 7, so we should get an early start since it’s an hour drive.”

Knockout chuckles briefly before replying, “I’ll be here at 7. Always best to be fashionably late.” He smirks before transforming, the shine from his polished chassis gleaming in the light of the setting sun. He dramatically peels out of the expansive and large driveway before leaving the property. As the Decepticon’s frame disappeared from view, (Y/N) sighed softly to herself, “Always so dramatic…”

As Knockout began his drive back to the pickup coordinated for the Nemesis, he couldn’t help but have his gaze linger at the quickly disappearing villa in his rear view mirror. Perhaps the relationship between him and this human was a bit more than… strictly professional.

⭐️

⭐️

⭐️

If you enjoyed this please give it a like. If you want a continuation, lemme know! ❤️

#transformersprime #transformers one shots #transformers #transformers prime #TFP #tfp knockout #knockout #transformers oneshot #transformers fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #transformersreaderinsert #transformers knockout #oneshot #knockout x reader

[reginageorgesgirlfriend3020]

A heart to heart conversation and I am in love with you

"My gosh Sam stop calling me beautiful!!" You snapped. "Stop calling me beautiful! Stop calling me the prettiest girl you've ever seen, just stop!!" You yelled.

Sam was taken back by your angry outburst.

Chad, Tara, Quinn, Anika, and Mindy were also taken back.

You walked away still livid and angry and slammed the door to the room.

Sam sighed. She had no idea how to react.

"Sam", Tara said. "Just give her space to cool off. Okay?".

"Wow", said Mindy. "I have never seen (Y/n) yell at Sam like that ever". she said.

"Yeah". Said Anika.

"That was scary". Said Chad.

Quinn gave Sam a hug. "Just give (Y/n) some to cool down.

"Did I do something wrong guys?" Sam asked her sister and her best friends. "All I did was tell (Y/n) that shes beautiful". Sam started to tear up. She put her head on her hands as her sister and best friends went to comfort her. Sam wiped the tears from her eyes and said "That poor thing. Something must be troubling (Y/n). She must be in some kind of emotional distress. Did me calling her beautiful trigger her?". She asked.

"Its definitely possible". Said chad. "We'll stand by the door incase she wants to talk to us too. Maybe shes going through something".

After an hour Sam got up from the couch and said to Tara and her best friends "I'm gonna go talk to (Y/n)".

Sam walked to the bedroom door and knocked on the door. She opened it and saw you just sitting on the side of the bed.

"Hi". You said.

"Hi babe". Sam said. She sat on the side of the bed next to you.

Tara, Chad, Mindy, Anika, and quinn stood by the door.

You sighed. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. Its just", you said to sam. You started to cry. "Im extremely insecure! I'm nowhere the look of a model I dont even think im pretty I dont know how to feel about myself because-"

"Hey, hey, hey". Said Sam. "You're pretty. Very pretty. Have you seen you lately? You have the most beautiful long hair and the most beautiful hazel green eyes". Sam said to you.

"I don't! And I'm not!" You cried.

"(Y/n)" said Quinn. "Where's all this coming from?" She asked you.

"I was in a relationship for about 6 years way before I met you guys and Sam". You said.

Everyone looked at you and sat next to you and Sam.

"It was pure hell". You said. One minute she told me she respects me and the next minute she made my life hell. She was controlling. Manipulative. During that time I lived with her and her mom my ex girlfriend even had this look on her face and raised her hand to me". You said to everyone.

"What?" Quinn said in disbelief.

"That is awful". Said Anika.

"Do you want me, Anika, and Quinn to kick her ass? Because we will!" Said Tara.

Sam gave you the most safe and warmest hug ever. "Oh (Y/n). How did you end the relationship?" Sam asked.

"We got into a terrible argument. I walked away from her. She told not to walk away from her. I told her to never speak to me ever again and I blocked her number. My ex is very toxic to my mental health. My ex never gave me a compliment. Anything I did was never good enough for her. She made jokes about me that were hurtful and mean. She'd insult me with little verbal jabs whenever she could. And she never told me I'm beautiful. She made things so terrible that I had to block her number more than once. Even a crisis counselor had to come to the house. But once I ended that relationship I moved here. Got a great job too". You said.

"Well you know what?" Said Chad. "You're safe here with us. We've all got your back. We love having you around. And your ex blew it big time with you. Now it's our turn to show you how special you are to all of us". He said. He smiled.

You smiled. "Thank you guys for being here for me. I never told you guys about my ex because it triggers my anxiety". You said to everyone.

"You're very brave for sharing what you went through". Said Quinn.

"Its not easy to talk about past experiences but you did and I'm glad you shared it with us and told us about what you went through with your ex. Chad is right. Your ex blew it with you big time". Said Anika.

Mindy gave you a hug and said "You can count on is to always be here for you".

"Thank you guys. Can you give me and sam a minute please?" You asked.

"Yeah. Of Course". Said Tara. "And (Y/n)?"

"Yes Tara?" You said.

"You're a great friend. When you chased ghostface and had him running that was pretty bad ass". Said Tara. She smiled.

You giggled.

After Chad, Mindy, Tara, quinn, and Anika left and closed the door you sat closer to your girlfriend.

"So". You and your girlfriend Sam said at the same time.

"I'll go first". Said Sam. "If I triggered you in any way I am truly sorry. I didn't mean to trigger you baby. I just want you to know how beautiful you are". Sam said to you. "And that I am so deeply madly in love with you".

You smiled. "Oh Sam". You said lovingly to her. "Do you mean that?".

"I do". Said Sam.

"Even when my hair is wet from the shower?" You asked.

"Yes". Sam said to you.

"Even when im just in my football Jersey and sweatpants?" You asked sam.

"Yes". sam said to you.

"Sam". You said to her. "I'm not the best with words but trust me when I say that I am so in love with you. You make me feel beautiful. And safe". You said to Sam.

Sam held you tight. She looked deep in your hazel green eyes and kissed you so affectionately. You kissed her back and gave her a hug too. You've always loved her hugs.

"I love you". You said to your girlfriend.

"I love you too baby". Sam said to you. "Now let's go grab some lunch. I'm hungry".

You and sam were holding hands and everyone smiled at you and Sam. "Me and my girlfriend (Y/n) are gonna get lunch. Does anyone want anything from Jersey Mike's?" You asked.

"Bring us all back anything from there. We are hungry too". Said Mindy.

You nodded. "Okay".

"I'll be back. I'm gonna grab my purse". Sam said to you.

"Okay babe". You said to Sam. Sam gave you a kiss on the cheek and went to get her purse. She took her keys and purse with her and said "Ready".

Sam opened the door as she waited for you. "Thank you chad. Mindy. Quinn. Tara. Anika. For everything".

You walked out the door with Sam holding her hand.

And everytime you and Sam hold hands you feel comfort.

#scream 6 #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter x reader #Sam Carpenter × you #lgbtq #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #tara x reader #Chad x reader #mindy meeks x reader #quinn bailey x reader #tara carpenter x you #Tara carpenter x reader

[mysticficti0n]

All my attention Part 5

warnings- swearing, drinking, protectiveness, so much flirting

words- 4k

If you'd like to read the previous parts → All my attention series

a/n- so if you're new here I am British and cannot speak any German, I speak a little French, Spanish and Italian but German- no. I also do not trust Google translate so this is gonna be like an avatar thing (if you've seen the newest one Jake says that their language just became normal or something along those lines) so in reality this is all in German, you as a reader know German but, its wrote in English... make sense? no... well, sorry this part has taken a while-

(also would anyone want to be on a tallest?? plz put if you'd like to ♥︎)

┍━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━━━━┑

backstory- you are the 5th member of Tokio Hotel and you always thought the love was equally platonic between you and a certain guitarist... but what if that all changed?

I stood in my room ferreting through my clothes to find something to wear for the interview which was coming a lot faster than I thought, I decided on a army green booty skirt with a cream belt, a white tank top, gold jewellery and my hair tied back in a bun, my make up was pretty usual besides my red lips lined in black but I mean if I can pull it off- why not?

Hurriedly I grabbed my shoes, deciding on my chunky platforms and a purse holding lip gloss, lip liner, spray, my phone, a pen and keys. The boys and their families went home after breakfast around 10 meaning we could all spend time with our families for a few hours, the Kaulitz' left a little later as being our neighbours they didn't have much of a drive to get home. Gordon, the twins step dad agreed to driving us 3 to the studio while Georg drove him and Gustav as they lived near to each other

"Y/n sunshine! Tom is out side" my mom called from the bottom of the stairs

"okay!" I shouted back and came storming down the stairs, I saw my mom's eyes light up and a smile decorate her already beautiful face "like it?" I twirled

"You look wonderful! oh my- Martin get in here look at our daughter!" she called getting my dad in who was holding Stella "look!"

"Baba look pretty!" Stella grinned

"she does doesn't she, we'll be watching tonight sweetheart" with 3 quick kisses I ran out the house waving goodbye and Tom laughed as I stumbled down the step

"shut up look at the size of these I'm not exactly gain" I huffed steading myself, I looked up and saw the boy handing is arm which I gladly took to get down and jump the wall dividing our house

"we need your help- well I need your help, Bill wants your opinion on his fit but I don't know what to wear so I’m more important" Tom sighed, at the moment he was just in a wife beater and jorts, his dreads in a mess around his head "and- I need to show you something"

"well lets go then!" we hurried into the house and Bill was sipping a coke and smiled seeing me walk through

"Y/N YES LOOK AT YOU!" he snapped his fingers as I model stepped in, 'flipping' my hair and blowing a kiss "alright what about me?" he was in a black leather jacket, matching black skinny jeans, a Dimond skull belt and chains around his neck, hair on end (in a good way) and a deep smokey eye

"absolutely- I fucking love it!" he smiled getting all giddy "bad bitch vibes- or a good fuckable emo, either really" the boy blushed wrapping me in a hug

"okay go help useless over here now" I rolled my eyes and followed the other Kaulitz up the stairs to his room where clothes were dropped everywhere

"so... what happened?' I asked seeing him shrug "right well... these jeans- dark denim is a look then, where's your green and yellow cap?" I asked seeing him pull a draw open full of at least 50 hats

"what head thing?" he spoke opening the draw above "black?" I nodded opening his wardrobe and pulling a yellow and dark green print, white back shirt out (this is the fits)

"here, change" I spoke seeing him pull his vest off and quickly put the new shirt over, he was finally done fixing individual strands of hair in his ponytail and sprayed a dark smelling cologne on "okay that looks GOOD" I complemented seeing a smile form on his lips

"oh I can show you the thing now" he laughed walking into the hall and bring a small box back in "look I'm proposing!" he got onto his knee holding the said box

"oh Tom-" I played pretending to wipe my eyes "I do!" he shoved me away and opened the box revealing a small ring- gold and had our band logo engraved in it "holy shit! thats amazing!" I called pulling the ring out "do we all have one" the boy excitedly nodded pulling his hand up showing a bigger and chunkier version

"mom got them for us 5, they're so cool" I nodded admiring the metal around my finger "Bill's and Gustav's are in silver as they prefer it"

"god I love your mom" I sighed happily standing up and walking into the hall "THANK YOU SIMMY!" her laugh filled the hall followed by a 'no problem doll'

"KIDS COME ON WE NEED TO GO!" Gordons voice echoed from down stairs and in great style and slow steps me and Tom got into the car, in the backseat as Bill was first in "we have to hurry up its already 25 past" he grumbled starting the engine

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"Welcome to the red seats- Tokio Hotel!" our interviewer names Karter Male introduced, monsoon began playing in the background followed by many screams, Bill was pushed on first closely followed by the rest of us and as we all came into view the noise only got louder "ahah welcome!" we all smiled waving to the people

"hi!" we laughed, Bill was closest to the table followed by Tom, me Georg and Gustav who were relaxing back into the seats "thank you for having us" Bill began

"no its our pleasure, so would you like to introduce yourselves for the people who don't know you all?" we nodded and looked to our lead singer

"oh- I'm Bill Kaulitz, lead singer on Tokio Hotel"

"Hey, I'm Tom Kaulitz, his brother also older by ten minuets and I play electric guitar for Tokio Hotel"

"hello, I'm Y/n Y/l/n, the backing singer for Tokio Hotel" I herd a wolf whistle come from the audience causing me to giggle "thank you" but the boy to the left of me face dropped but I tried to ignore his mood

"evening, I'm Georg Listing and I play bass for Tokio Hotel"

"hi I'm Gustav schäfer and i play drums for Tokio Hotel" claps filled the room and the interviewer grinned

"so now we know you recently got back from doing a mini-tour sort of thing right?" murmurs of 'yes' and 'yeah' ran through us five until Bill started talking

"yesterday actually, we did our last show in the afternoon and all went back to Y/n's parents house for the night and seeing our families was a massive relief as we hadn't seen them in weeks"

"thats wonderful, well going back onto your small tour we herd in Tier that there was a new song? and its was sang by Y/n, can you tell us little about that?" Karter looked to me and I looked to the boys who gave me the nod

"of course, it's called 'Don't jump' and it has so much meaning and I mean nobody has all day to listen to me ramble but its from when I was in a very dark place due to privet things and instead of being sad 24/7 I made it into lyrics and I finally performed it in Tier, I think next shows when we play it Bill will sing as he's much better than I am" I laughed hearing the crow 'aw' at me "but yeah its a beautiful song- not to blow my own horn or anything" The interview carried on and the boys getting asked different thing then turned to the 'public questions'

"so we've had a few questions from your adoring fans who will be watching from home, this one is for all of you actually- from Hallie, 15, she said 'hello Tokio Hotel, my question is- are you all single or seeing people?' so?" I watched as Georg and Gustav nodded their heads saying 'yes we are' Tom and Bill also but then I remembered I hadn't come out publicly about my spilt yet

"yeah we all are" I spoke hearing a gasp but quickly brushed it off

"well erm... next question for Tom from Suzana 'Hey Tom, I was wondering if you have a type?'" the audience laughed as the guitarist became a little tense, scratching his neck

"well.. if you're pretty and have a nice smile I don't have a issue" girls in the crowd cheered and a blush covered his cheeks, I patted his shoulder to which he looked back to me pulling his lips taught as if to say 'what the fuck'

"right, our next questions will be from the audience!, so let's start" we watched a runner hop up the stairs to a smiling blonde girl who was wearing a tour shirt

"Hi! I'm Rebecca and I have a question for Gustav!" we watched as the boys eyes lit up and a smile spread on his face "I was wondering what your favourite song- out side of the band- is to play?" that was surprisingly quite a nice question

"oh erm... I like quite rock sorta music so probably Nirvana?" she thanked him and blew a kiss to which his cheeks only got redder, the runner went to another girl, smaller and younger looking with brown piggytails

"hello... I'm Francine and I have a question for Y/n" my eyes softened seeing her nervousness

"lets hear it!" I grinned

"I- I was wondering whats your favourite colour and why? because I think you look beautiful in green and purple!" she giggled making me pout at her sweetness, Tom was smiling at me as I held my heart

"aw thank you Francine thats so nice of you, I'd say my favourite colour is... baby yellow though I never wear it, my mom calls me sunshine and that colour reminds me of her" the girl said her thanks and the questions continued

"so this will be our last question for Tokio Hotel tonight as our show is near an end!" Karter spoke pointing to the camera and it spun to the last fan

"hey guys! I love you all so much by the way- but my question is for Tom and Y/n" me and the boy looked to each other then back to the brunette "I'm guessing you've seen the ships between you on social media?" being the only girl in a group of 4 boys sometimes came with it's downsides, those being 'shipped' with all of them and people making up rumours "the most common being that you two secretly love each other, well I was wondering if any part of that was true?" I let my laugh slip but Tom's brows furrowed

"yes I do love Y/n, she's one of the most important people in my life of course but the way people make us out is completely wrong- she's like a sister I mean she may as well be related to me and Bill we've know each other since we were what born?" I nodded listening to his words but I couldn't help but know that everything the fans imagined wasn't completely wrong.. and he knew that too

"yeah like he said we love each other but its platonic!" I added seeing the crowd sigh at the disappointment

"you'd make a good couple though" Karter added "you'd be the hottest new thing since people like Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore" I rolled my eyes at the words but Tom seemed to like the idea and shoved me with his elbow "thats all we have time for folks, thank you Tokio Hotel for being here tonight! bye!" we all waved and the crowd applauded, the lights dimmed meaning we all had to go backstage.

"he's gonna come back here in a second to have photos with you guys so if you'd like to wait in the dressing room please feel free!" a runner smiled looking to us pointing up the hall, we all walked into the air conditioned room and fell onto the matching red sofas from set

"that was I think the most comfortable interview we've ever done" I spoke scratching my head, fixing my hair. Tom scoffed folding his arms "what? don't you guys agree?"

"I think he was playing favourites all the way through" Bill spoke opening a water "but yeah it was fine"

"I agree" Georg added, I personally didn't know what their issue was but I mean they are edgy, angry teen boys anything ticked them off. we sat in silence until the door opened with Karter smiling widely at the five of us

"Ah Tokio Hotel- thank you for tonight it went beautifully! shall we take some photos?" he asked fixing his suit jacket as we all stood "perfect, follow me" he instructed going out the door, Bill grabbed the door before It slammed into us all and held it open nodding his head allowing me first to which I whispered a quick thank you and slipped through following the man "okay so erm.. shall we have twins next to me, then Y/n on this side with Gustav and Georg" we all lined up in front of the photographer who was bending with a camera

"3...2..1" he spoke clicking the button and a flash blared our eyes "grate, we'll get a few more" he spoke fixing his position

"so what did you think of the interview guys?" Karter asked looking to his side "fun?" his hand which was now on the small of my back jolted slightly

"ah yeah it was nice we were just saying" I answered as the boys stayed silent "the people who asked the questions were so sweet" the photos continued and so did his hand, slowly his hand went my hip, thigh and then as he moved it to my ass I pulled away "were not doing that" I quickly spoke pulling my own hand away from being behind him

"sorry- its very inviting!" his eyes narrowed looking down and back up to me

"we're fucking done-" Bill started walking out the room and going to the exit door followed by Georg and Gustav as he shouted curses

"Y/n come on" Tom grabbed my arm shoving the man out the way "she's fucking 17 you prick" I didn't get a look at the man after that before Tom was yanking me through the doors out the building to the car where his step-dad was stood "were going straight home"

"Bill went with the lads" Gordon pointed as Georg's car pulled from the space with a roar of the engine "come on we need to be quick the meal is in like an hour and a half"

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"hey darlings how was the interview?" Simone asked as we went into the Kaulitz' house "it looked good"

"we're never going on that show again" Tom murmured walking to the kitchen and grabbing a drink from the fridge "fucking looking Y/n up and down like she was someone to hook up with"

"what!" Simone started looking to me "are you okay sweetheart?" I nodded my head realising what Tom said

"anyways I need to shower" the twin grumbled walking up the stairs "Y/n I need you first" he shouted back down the stairs

"oh okay- sorry Simmy I'll be back" she smiled turning back to the tv as I made my way up the stairs to the boys room where I could here him shuffling about saying things to himself "Tom?" I walked in to see him standing at his mirror top off and belt half way undone

"shut the door" I did as he said looking at him oddly, I turned and shut the door behind my self and looked back to him "you didn't see what he was doing that whole interview did you?" I shook my head no "right well we all did, he was trying to see up your skirt- stared right at your tits, lips, eyes, legs- everything" I felt a lump in my throat as his brown eyes became darker looking at me "and no man can do that to you-" I nodded stepping over to him and wrapping my arms around him hiding my face in his color bone

"well though I fucking hate that- I'm okay don't get worked up okay? this sounds so cringy but he can't touch me like that ever again either because I'll brake his wrist" Tom looked down to me with a small smile spreading along his lips as he played with his lip piercing

"yeah nobody can ever fucking touch you there" I rolled my eyes seeing his eyes go serious in a jokey way "unless its me of course"

"oh yeah- of course, anyways you need a shower and come my house after help me chose my outfit for tonight" he nodded hugging me back quickly before going to his shower leaving me to go back home

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I was sat in my bedroom flicking through my radio until I found a station playing a song I liked, Brittany Spears started playing, I started dancing around my room like I was her and nodding my head along to the lyrics of freak show 'Make it a Freakshow freakshow We can give 'em a Peepshow, peepshow Don't stop it let it flow Let your inhibitions go It's a crazy night Let's make a make a freakshow'

"Y/n!" I scream left my mouth as I turned to see Tom stood in my door frame laughing "what the fuck are you doing?"

"can you knock! I think I shit myself" he pulled his fist to the door and knocked with a cocky smile "haha" I spoke sarcastically, soon he fully walked into the room and my jaw did nearly fall to the floor, he was in black suit bottoms and a white button up blouse, rings around his fingers and his necklace on show, dreads in a messy bun

"wow! you look good! pulling out all the stops Thomas" I complemented seeing him become a little shy "genuinely you look amazing"

"thanks, I mean were going to the Stadtpfeiffer restaurant so I wanna look good" he popped his chest looking at himself in the mirror "what are you wearing?" he asked looking at me as I stood in joggers and a tank top

"a dress but can't decide which, wanna chose?" I'd never seen him walk quicker in my life, the doors flew open revealing all my 'fancier' clothes and his hands moved quickly through the hangers, until he pulled a red dress with a black rose lace pattern on top "really? don't think this might be a bit scandalous for a family dinner?" Tom smirked placing the dress onto the chair and turned back to the wardrobe "wait- no don't open tha-" I watched as his hand reached for the draw full of my 'sexy' clothes

"fucking hell Y/n how many thongs do you need?" he laughed looking back at me, he dug through them until he pulled a red lacy Victoria secret pantie out and threw it at me "here, wear that underneath" with a sigh I went to the bathroom and slipped into the clothes, I stared into the mirror and regretted ever letting him chose my outfit "let me see!" he called from the other room

"okay-" I walked into my bedroom and his eyes widened, lip tucked between his teeth and his hands dug harder into the bed "like?" I asked twirling

"like is a understatement" Tom hummed "god you look so hot right now- I literally don't have words" a small blush painted my cheeks as I stepped into my full body mirror, I turned to check my reflection but all I could see was the guitarist staring in awe

"my eyes are here" I laughed seeing him nod "okay well make up and hair now" the boy seemed to be confused "what?"

"you don't have make up on?" I shook my head turning to him "so you are just naturally gorgeous? fuck" I rolled my eyes sitting on the chair where the dress once lay, I pulled my make up draw open and picked out my foundation and began the process I came to love over the tour, dark eyes and a dark red lip , next my hair I decided to have it straight down and hair-sprayed it into place

"okay I'm done!' Tom looked up from the magazine he found himself flicking through and a smile spread across his face "too much?" I asked seeing his head shake "sure?"

"you look perfect Y/n" I grinned standing and going over to the wall wear my jewellery hung grabbing a necklace and a few rings and bracelets "you need shoes" Tom quipped abruptly going into the box under my bed full of misilanious shoes, he rummaged through for a while before pulling out my chunky Mary Janes I sat back on the sheets of my bed waiting for him to hand over the shoes but he stayed down, grabbing my ankle and slowly slipped the shoe onto my foot "Tell me when the shoes tight enough alright?" I nodded seeing him thread the strap through and pulling it taught

"there" he quickly pressed the buckle through and moved to my right foot doing the same before kissing my bare knees "you are so cute Kaulitz" soon his hands reached mine and we stood together "thank you- I love it all"

"no problem"

The time ticked slowly as me and Tom waited for everyone to be ready as in fairness we were done quite quickly, I sat at the desk with my computer on, flicking through web pages while Tom was messing around with my ukulele that one day just appeared in my room. I scrolled down a page until I saw a subtitle of 'picture ideas' and I immediately knew what we'd be doing to pass the time, the first one was the girl holding the camera above the couple and the boy holding her- perfect

"come here were taking these photos" I called bring the boy back to me, he stood fixing his outfit and passing me my phone and standing with me "okay so you need to-"

"I can see what I've gotta do babe" Tom soothed into my ear, wrapping his arms around my waist and placing his forehead into the crook of my neck "take it" with a click of my button the photo snapped, and we did this about 50 more times, standing in the mirror, at the window, and my poster wall

"perfect" I smiled flicking through the pictures "we look so good" cheering I looked back to see Tom looking to me, eyes scanning my body and face "you okay?"

"fine, just can't stop staring" a blush tinted my cheeks, over the past few days the flirting gone from funny to romantic giving me new feelings of giddiness every time

"Tom your making me red" my cheeks were aching from the smile I couldn't hold back

"good"

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the clock struck 8:45pm meaning everyone getting in the cars to go to the Stadtpfeiffer, Bill had come back earlier and so the Kaulitz went in their car and I went with my family, me and Stella sat in the back dancing along to the music playing on the radio "what were you and Tom doing Sunshine? I could hear you laughing like you've just seen the funniest thing in the world!" I sighed with a smile to her words

"oh taking stupid photos together" but they weren't stupid- anything but, every time I looked at one my stomach felt ticklish and my chest heaved with a feeling I couldn't explain

"oh very nice, you'll have to show me" I laughed at her words mumbling a line of 'sure' after another 20 minuets we finally arrived and it look beautiful, the yellow haze lights illuminating the entrance and fancy jazz music filled our ears "oh my-"

After us the Kaulitz' arrived, the boys walked straight over to me laughing about something "evening" Bill nudged to me "I have something to tell you after by the way" I looked oddly at the boy who only smiled and followed his stepdad to my dad, I turned to Tom who shrugged

"you smell good" I commented smelling his cologne

"Paco Rabanne" he spoke lifting his arm to me so I could smell it better "oh and send me those photos will you, I need them" his voice became seductive making my knees weak and I all I did was hum in response "thank you angel"

“Stop it Thomas- we’re in public” I giggled seeing his eyebrows rise

“That’s only gonna make me worse” my heart stoped for a moment at his words- what’s did he mean by worse?

#bill kaulitz #georg listing #gustav schäfer #kaulitz twins #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz x reader #00s #tokio hotel #tom kaulitz imagines #germany #Pinterest #alt #emo girl #🦇.txt #🥀 #bill kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz fanfic #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz icons #Tom Kaulitz x Y/n

[dragonworshippersblog]

Let's discuss some topic that I frequently read on tumblr about house of the dragon (if u do not agree then u can express ur opinion by comment, but always be educate. And if you want another topic to be discussed let me know and i will make a post)

“Aegon is the rightful king of the seven kingdoms by law”

GRRM in an interview said this “ Well, the short answer is that the laws of inheritance in the Seven Kingdoms are modeled on those in real medieval history… which is to say, they were vague, uncodified, subject to varying interpretations, and often contradictory” so we can say that male primogeniture is based on traditions, not law. King Jaehaerys with the great council of 101 at harrenal let the lords decide who should succeeded him, so he gave them a choice. But this is not the same about king viserys, he named rhaenyra as his heir and alway defended her, so viserys did not give them a choice. By usurping rhaenyra’s throne the green imply that the king’s word means nothing, and this is the thing that causes war and crisis. As we see in the book fire and blood most of the houses support rhaenyra’s cause, so otto’s word “the realm will not accept her” are revealed to be false. Again the war come from the fact that otto and alicent decide to crown aegon, so houses actually have a choice to decide who they wanted to support, if aegon hadn’t been present as an option the few houses that didn't agree with viserys choice will bent the knee alike.

“Alicent always defended rhaenyra before she lied to her about her purity”

In episode three the show let us see a conversation between otto and alicent where he said “aegon has been robbed of his own inheritance because he is the king’s first born son” and after he said that is alicent’s aim to guide the king in his decision, the second after she went to viserys’ chamber claim that there is something she want to discuss with him (viserys stopped her and they start talking about the stepstones). How do you know that she did not raise this matter anymore? In episode six when older alicent was question rhaenyra’s children she say she already talk about this before but the show didn't let us saw it, so its completely possible that she proposed aegon as heir even before rhaenyra’s lie when they were still friend

“Alicent always defend rhaenyra and yet rhaenyra send otto away when she had the possibility leaving alicent alone”

Let’s go deep into it. Queen Aemma, rhaenyra’s mother, died in order to gave the king a son, she was literally open without any kind of anesthesia so she felt every cut the maester were doing to her (and in the original script rhaenyra saw her body so she is aware that the death of her mother wasn’t a miscarriages like the other). After all of it viserys named rhaenyra his heir and married alicent, and at the time they had two children together, aegon and haelena. In this scenario otto was the second most powerful man in the realm, he ruled when viserys can’t, and he had great influence as he had great ambitions. So, rhaenyra had the chance to demonstrate that her mother’s death was not vain, and all of her miscarriages and pain had an aim now that her daughter is heir, but then there is otto and he will always be an obstacles in her rise to the throne; you, in her position, had the chance to get him go away, you choose to let him stay at court so your best friend is not alone or you choose to let him go so your rise will be more easy? Because if I were in rhaenyra’s position I would have not hesitate a second

“Alicent did not knew the council were plotting to crown aegon”

You all act like she had not the huge part in rhaenyra’s usurpation. First of all she tormented rhaenyra for a lot of years in king's landing, she moved to dragonstone (which is however the seat of the heir to the throne, rhae is the princess of dragonstone) because she couldn't take it anymore to be targeted by alicent and it was her aim in my opinion because rhaenyra not set the council would let Alicent have all the power to influence everyone about how her son is more worthy. Then she said to aegon “everyone in the realm know that one day you will be our king” so also if aegon was not meant to have the crown alicent let him believe that, and he was a boy at the time so he was easily manipulated. Then there is the petition about driftmark, you are really claim that alicent was willing to do so because she care so much to vaemond to have driftmark because its his blood rights and not because when the war she and otto create will follow she will have the velaryon flee support her? And when she said that viserys whisper to her about how aegon should succeed him? You can be team green or team black, but everyone can agree about how pathetic she was claiming that after viserys defend rhae for 20 years, and he suddenly change his mind where only her was here to listen him

#house of the dragon #house targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #queen rhaenyra #rhaenicent #anti alicent stans #daemon targaryen #alicent hightower #house hightower #rhaenyra targeryan #rhaenys targaryen #anti hightower #anti otto hightower #anti team green #anti alicent hightower #house velaryon #corlys velaryon #laenor velaryon #baela targaryen #hotd

[whatsnewalycat]

wake & bake

pairing: dieter bravo x ofc louella

Summary: You have a virtual smoke session with your new friend and secret crush, Dieter Bravo.

Rating: Mature (see warnings)

Content Tags/Warnings: video chat, smoking weed & getting high, swearing, fluff, flirting, pet names, attempts at jokes, primal scream, crush

Word Count: 2.1k+

Notes: Hi there! This takes place in the Psychomanteum storyline between chapters 2 & 3. I think it can be read as a one shot with the context that’s given but idk. You do need to know is that Louella/Lua, our OFC and second person POV, bakes and sells edibles, bc I don’t think that’s super clear in the text. Ok thanks have a great day 🖤��

You settle into the middle of your bed, crossing your legs as you glance around and take inventory. 

Lighter. Joint. Ashtray. Water bottle. Laptop. 

Your emerald green curtains billow and rustle when a crisp spring breeze rolls through the bedroom. The air carries the latent, earthy scent of decay and new growth from the park across the street. A shiver weaves its way up your back, so you pull the throw blanket draped around your waist up onto your shoulders like a cape. 

Despite the chill, your hands are hot pads. You press one palm to your cheek and grimace at how fast it heats you. It’s stupid to be so nervous about this. He’s just a person. 

Just a really amusing, really sweet, stupidly handsome person. 

That also happens to be famous. Which is a fact you can’t dwell on for too long before it starts to make you queasy. So, for the purposes of this conversation, you decide to omit it from your brain. 

Just a guy. 

You take a deep breath and wipe your sweaty palms on your pants, then click Join Meeting. 

A few moments go by before Dieter’s face pops up on the screen. He looks like he just crawled out of bed. His face is all puffy from sleep and his chestnut curls are sticking up every which way.

Upon seeing him, your heart starts thudding in your throat. 

He mumbles some kind of greeting while rubbing one eye and yawning, then pulls the camera back to wave at you, revealing that he’s shirtless. The video blurs and shifts like he’s en route, and you see bits and pieces of what you assume is his house in the background. 

“Good morning, sunshine!” you call, waving to the camera, probably a little too enthusiastic. 

“Good morning, beautiful,” he croaks out, voice all groggy, “Sorry, just woke up, give me a sec.”

He sets the phone down on a flat surface, giving you a view of his ceiling as he pours a cup of coffee. 

“I’ll give you all the secs you need,” you tease, and immediately cringe at yourself. But you hear a robust laugh echo through, what you assume is, his kitchen. A proud smile stretches across your face. 

“That was good,” he grins as he picks the phone up and tucks a joint behind his ear, then grabs a steaming coffee cup. The background starts moving again as he walks through the house, “How’re you doing today, doll?”

“Busy,” you fiddle with the joint, twirling its paper tip to a point, “I’ve been up since like 3:00.”

“Pretty sure that’s when I went to sleep,” he tells you with a little chuckle, “S’pose it’s like… stoner Christmas, huh? Big day in the biz.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty nuts,” you laugh, then shrug, “Keeps the lights on, though, so I’m not complaining. Parker is gonna come over in a bit and help me with the orders going out this afternoon.”

“Oh, Parker, what a guy,” Dieter smiles, opening a sliding glass door that drenches him in sunlight.

“He’s the best,” you smirk, then look up at the laptop screen and sigh, “What’re your plans for today?”

“Eh,” he shrugs, then groans as he sits down in a white patio couch, “Little of this, little of that. Gonna meet up with some people later and go to a party.” 

“Fun,” you say, trying to picture the kind of LA parties he frequents. Your imagination makes them out to be glamorous and wild. Expensive champagne, models, celebrities, drugs galore. After looking around your small bedroom, you blow a raspberry, then ask, “Well, shall we?” 

Dieter hums and plucks the joint out from behind his ear. He closes his lips around the cardboard tip, talking around it, “We shall.” 

You follow his lead, holding your joint between your lips, then raise a lighter to the business end, pulling a few quick puffs before you toss the lighter aside. Thick, skunky smoke expands your lungs. You exhale towards the window and cough a little as THC dissipates through your body, making you feel light and buoyant. 

“What’re the parties like out there?” you ask, taking another long drag. The pot starts to smooth your nervous edges and mellow you out. 

He grunts and pulls a pair of sunglasses over his eyes, then shrugs, “Bullshit. Buncha phonies trying to one up each other.” 

“Ok, Holden Caulfield,” you snort, and it earns a howl of laughter from him that makes you smile. 

“No, but really,” he takes a drag off his joint and holds the smoke captive as he tells you, “I don’t find people like you and Parker out here,” he exhales fully, coughing a little, “Or anywhere, really. That party was the most fun I’ve had in years.” 

“Bullshit,” you laugh. 

“Seriously!” He grins and clambers up in his seat, leaning forward, “I’ve done acid so many goddamn times at so many parties. And it’s always a big group of people talking over each other, trying so hard to be profound, or have a fuckin’, uhhh, spiritual experience or whatever,” he waves his hands about as he talks, pausing to take a hit. Smoke muffles his voice when he tells you, “But they’re all so fucking soulless and shallow, I can’t stand it. I usually either end up leaving to trip alone or take other shit to make it more tolerable.”

You giggle nervously, “That sounds… I dunno, like a bad fucking time, man.”

He chuckles, then murmurs, “Anyway,” sitting back in his seat, “What’s, uhhh… what’s your scene, what kind of parties do you usually go to?” 

“Uhhhhh,” you croak as you think about this, then frown at the ceiling as you take a hit off your joint and exhale, “I guess I really don’t? I go to bars more than parties, I guess, but I usually just go there to get laid.”

He smiles wide and brings a palm to his chest, “A girl after my own heart.” 

You giggle as heat creeps through your body, up your neck, “I mean, I can drink and smoke at home. But dick? I have to outsource dick—”

Dieter’s laughter is all you can hear. He leans forward and pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head.

“Pussy, too, but dick is much easier to find,” you tell him in a joking way, even though it’s not a joke, “It’s just not the same alone, you know? 

“That’s absolutely true,” he chuckles, wiping his eyes as his laughter dies down, “I like you, you’re funny.”

“Hey, I like you too,” you beam, tilting your head to the side. It’s quiet for a moment as you study each other’s face through the screen conduit. You take another drag off your joint, averting your gaze to the window, then blow a thick plume of smoke towards it. 

“I have a question,” you tell him, flicking your eyes back to the screen. 

“What?” he tucks a hand under his head and lays out on his outdoor couch. 

“Do you ever have these urges to do something crazy? And, like, wonder how people around you would react?” 

“Like what?”

“Like,” you toss your head back and forth, “Like what would you do if I just took my clothes off right now, or—“

“I would die of joy, can we try that one?” he grins. 

“No,” you snort, then cover your face as it starts to heat, “It was just an example!”

“Uh huh. You came up with it really fast,” he observes, then takes a drag from his joint. 

“And you responded to it really fast,” you counter, raising an eyebrow, crushing the orange cherry of your joint into the ashtray on your knee. 

“Obviously,” Dieter scoffs and shrugs, “I would love to see you naked.” 

Your whole head is a heat lamp and your face hurts from smiling. You lick your lips and smirk, “I am very flattered. But, hear me out—”

“We both take our clothes off,” he suggests, his shoulders shaking with stifled laughter, “That’s such a good idea!”

“I am going to murder you, Dee,” you laugh, covering your face. 

“Ok, no seriously, go ahead,” he snickers, glancing over to extinguish his spent joint in an off-screen ashtray.

You sigh and pause for a beat before confessing, “I wanna scream. Like, as loud as I can.”

He smirks and opens his mouth, tilting his head to the side. 

Before he can quip a sexual innuendo and fluster you further, you explain, “I’ve felt it in my chest for so long. The scream, I mean. Like it’s just sitting in there begging to be let out. Do you know what I’m talking about? Do you ever feel like that?”

The devilish smirk on his lips falters. He nods, “Yeah, I have.”

“I want to let it out, but I’m always so scared of what my neighbors will think,” you tell him, searching his face hundreds of miles away, “And sometimes I think, what if I just said fuck it and did it? Just screamed as loud and long as I could? What would happen?”

“Well, fuck it, let’s do it,” he decides, and the camera jostles as he rises to his feet, “Let’s fuckin’ scream our little hearts out, huh? See what happens.”

You smile, “Really?”

“Fuck yeah, come on,” he says, “You gotta stand, though, really let it out.” 

“Ok,” you laugh and set your ashtray aside, then roll off your bed, pulling your laptop to the edge so he can see you standing at your window, “Ready?”

“Alright, on three,” he calls, and you wriggle your body around, trying to psych yourself up, shaking your hands out as he counts, “1, 2, 3–“

You inhale until your lungs ache, then let it out. 

The red, hot feeling of disquiet that has been restless inside your chest for months scrapes against your vocal chords, burning your throat. 

While you’re doing this, you hear Dieter through the laptop speakers, screaming in unison with you, unrestrained, primal. 

You bend over to fully expunge this guttural, animalistic noise from your body. You scream until your face is filled with blood and your heartbeat pounds in your ears. Until your throat is throbbing and your voice is hoarse. Until your lungs are empty and nothing else comes out. 

Then you turn around to the laptop, searching Dieter’s flushed face. You’re both smiling wide and wild, chests heaving. 

“That was fucking awesome,” he tells you, chuckling and shaking his head, “You did great.”

“So did you,” you grin, “Good job screaming.” 

A frantic knock sounds on your door. 

“Oh shit,” you cover your face and giggle, looking up towards the noise, “Someone’s knocking.”

“Probably making sure you’re alive,” you hear Dieter say as you carry the laptop into the kitchen. You set it on the countertop before opening the door. 

“Hi,” you answer breathlessly to the wide eyes of your next door neighbor, “I’m fine.” 

“Oh—ok, I was just making sure—”

“Yeah, I just—you know, you ever just feel like screaming?” you try to explain. 

She shakes her head and stammers, “Um, no. But—but you’re ok, right?”

“I’m perfect, it felt really good,” you tell her, and you can hear Dieter’s laughter over the laptop, “Thank you for checking on me, though. I appreciate it.” 

“Sure,” she nods, then starts to walk away, glancing back over her shoulder as she goes.

You close the door and lock it, then burst out in giggles as you go back to the laptop, seeing Dieter smiling from ear-to-ear. 

He tells you, “That was adorable.”

“That was my neighbor thinking I’ve fully fucking lost my mind,” you snort, then glance up at the the clock on your oven, “Fuck, I have to get back to work.” 

He gives you a thumbs down and jeers, “Boooooo!”

The thought of him not wanting this call to end yet makes your insides twist. You roll your eyes playfully, “It’s been lovely smoking and screaming with you.”

“Waking and baking with you has been a delight, Lua, we should do it again soon,” he smiles, running a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah?” you beam, licking your lips before asking, “Do you mean that?”

“Obviously,” he scoffs, and you’re sort of glad you can’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses when his voice softens and he tells you, “Really, Lua. I’d love to do this again. I’m not just saying that.”

“Ok,” you grin like a fool and nod, “I would love to do this again, too.” 

“I’ll let you get to it. Tell Parker I said hi give him a bit ole smooch for me, will ya?” 

“I will,” you wave,” Bye, Dee.”

He kisses his hand and presses it to the camera, then says, “Talk to you soon, doll.” 

#psychomanteum #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x ofc #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x oc #dieter bravo #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo fluff #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic

[isephierreo]

Byleth's Design

This post is a full analysis of Byleth's design, their Enlightened One class, and other things I found interesting about them. (I will also mention the Ashen Wolves house, but I will focus on the design of the house itself, not its characters.)

Hair

Byleth's hair is modeled after a wolf hairstyle (ウルフヘアー), and although the wolf hairstyle may not symbolize a particular thing, the word for wolf/wolves is according to lore "the beasts who guard the Blue Sea Star". 

Outfit

Male Byleth, Bishop, and Priest class all wear armor that covers the shoulders and upper chest.

EDIT: After searching, the name of the type of armor worn by the Byleth and clerics is Gorget.

while Female Byleth wears a nun's collar.

This indicates Byleth's connection with the church from the beginning.

The pattern on Male Byleth's chest is a stylized of the crest of flames, with the 3 tears below and the 3 rhombus in the middle together forming the pattern on his chest, and the tear above are the one on his back.

Or it may be a stylized form of the Sothis tiara.

Speaking of the Sothis tiara, the pattern present on the sleeves of their coat is also a stylized form of it.

The pattern on Byleth's back is a triquetra, the triquetra has so many meanings, which vary from culture to culture, that I fail to see what it stands for with Byleth. The closest meaning to Byleth and the Three Houses concept I found for triquetra is that it is "three-cornered and connected deeply with the power of three".

Of course, no need to explain about the Byleth's pendant. (Just a little explanation: the green part is similar to the Flayn and Seteth pattern but mixed with P4. Same thing with the pink part, it's a mix between P4 and P1.)

In general, the main color in Byleth's outfit is gray, which symbolizes a lack of emotion, and that represents Byleth's emotional state at the beginning of the game. Gray is also a symbol of neutrality due to being a shade between white and black, and in the case of a basic Byleth's outfit, black is a dominant color, while white is a subdued shade (in the case of Male Byleth, white is not visible, though under his armor), but when they become the Enlightened One, the roles of black and white are reversed. This is closer to the concept of yin and yang, where the black yin is darkness and the white yang is light, but the essence of each has the color of the opposite side.

On their arms, the Byleth wear silver armor. Due to the purity of silver so high that it reflects like a mirror, it symbolizes seeing the true self in our depths. All of this points to Silver Snow, Byleth's own route, who they are discovering more about themselves and their Nabataean heritage. As for the reason that silver is only in their arms, it is because the arms symbolize acceptance and embracing life experience.

As I already mentioned in my previous post, the white and pink in Byleth's outfit are the colors of the ribbons of Sothis' hair, symbolizing their association with her. Besides, the color of their dagger is the same as the colors of her dress, blue, black, and gold.

A little note: many might think that the Byleth's dagger cross-guard is the same as the house leaders insignia inverted, but in fact it is completely different, at least within the game model. 

(The house leaders insignia itself differs from one work and design to another related to the game, and it can only be noticed after an audit.)

Enlightened One

One of the most notable things about Enlightened One is definitely the color purple, whether it's the crest of flames or the signature color of Byleth, Sothis, and the game itself. Purple is the color of the Sahasrara, also known as the crown chakra, is the seventh energy center in the chakra system. It is the highest point in the body and acts as a bridge between our physical selves and nirvana. Notably, Enlightened Byleth's tiara contains purple, unlike Sothis and Rheas' tiara. 

Like the Nabataeans, the Enlightened One's design has stylized parts of Sothis's design, as well as Rhea's.

A velvet scarf, in particular, is worn in the same style as religious or sacred-role characters in the franchise.

There is also a similarity to the dancer's design. This goes with Emblem Byleth being a dancer in Engage.

Especially since Sothis's design is more like a dancer. And the tiki's design itself looks like dancer.

Enlightened One has a pattern on the back under the cape, which is probably the crest of flames. This goes with Seiros and Dimitri, who also have their crest on the back under their cape. Claude doesn't have his crest in his Wyvern Master design, but he does at least have one in his Barbarossa's quiver. The only one without a crest on the back is Edelgard, which instead has an empty heart, which may indicate a stark contrast to Byleth.

Fencing Style

Byleth's style of carrying a sword is similar to that of the greatsword, which requires it to be carried on two shoulders due to its heavy weight.

The development of such a style is most likely due to training to wield a sword at an early age.

Although Byleth's animation is similar to the other characters' animation of wielding a sword, Byleth have a distinct animation in their final strike.

While all characters jump up to strike, Byleth hold the blade opposite to the ground and then direct it upwards during a lunge. It's like dragging a heavy sword across the ground to deal a fatal blow, and that's one ways to use the greatsword.

But when the Byleth became enlightened one, their sword-wielding style became lighter and more graceful.

They spin as if it were a dance, then counter a straight line strike with balance. They hold their left hand in a fist at their hearts as it glows as if they are praying, and then they release it with the faith power they have gathered.

The armor on Byleth's right arm is somewhat similar to the Immaculate One.

This indicates that the Byleth's right arm, which holds their weapon, represents the Immaculate One, an ability Rhea/Seiros has rarely used to end dangerous situations in battlefield. While Byleth's left arm, unarmored and unarmed, indicates Rhea/Seiros's ability to end wars with her bare hands with minimal casualties, as she did with Nemesis.

Going back to the Ashen Wolves, everyone is surely aware of the contrast in the colors of the Academy and Abyss students' uniforms. As I mentioned in my previous post, the colors of the Academy uniform represent Sothis, while the colors of the Abyss uniform represent Byleth. White, silver, black, gray, purpue. This refers to the concept of dualism, which is commonly used in the Final Fantasy series.

#fire emblem #byleth eisner #fire emblem three houses #fe3h #fe three houses #fe16

[daenerysies]

Rightful Heirs and a World of Woes

Does supporting Aegon II over Rhaenyra as the rightful heir of the Seven Kingdoms make someone a misogynist? Let’s get into it.

First of all, let’s look up some definitions:

Primogeniture - The term comes from the Latin "primo” which means first, and “genitura” which relates to a person's birth. Historically, primogeniture favored male heirs, also called male-preference primogeniture. Under this regime, the eldest living son would inherit the entirety of his parent's estate. (law.cornell.edu)

Patriarchy - A system of society or government in which men hold the power and women are largely excluded from it. (Oxford)

Absolute Monarchy - A monarchical government in which a ruler has unrestricted power over the State and its people due to lack of constitutional or legal restraints. (sociologydictionary.org)

Law – The system of rules which a particular country or community recognizes as regulating the actions of its members and which it may enforce by the imposition of penalties. (Oxford)

Tradition – The transmission of customs or beliefs from generation to generation, or the fact of being passed on in this way. (Oxford)

Precedent - An earlier event or action that is regarded as an example or guide to be considered in subsequent similar circumstances. (Oxford)

Misogyny - Dislike of, contempt for, or ingrained prejudice against women. (Oxford)

Now, let’s look into both characters' claims to the throne:

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Eldest living child of King Viserys I and his first wife Queen Aemma Arryn.

Named her father’s heir over her male uncle in 105 AC.

All Lords of the Realm swore fealty to her and her right to the throne.

Protected by the Widow’s Law, enacted by King Jaehaerys I, which forbade a man to disinherit the children by a first wife in order to bestow their lands, seat, or property on a later wife or her children. (Fire & Blood: Birth, Death, and Betrayal Under King Jaehaerys I)

During the Dance of Dragons, 53 houses supported Rhaenyra’s cause over Aegon’s 28. Most prominently she had the support of three of the Great Houses initially: The Starks, the Arryns, and the Greyjoys. The Tullys joined her cause later on in the war, after their pro-Green Lord, Grover Tully, passed away from illness after the Second Battle of Tumbleton, in which his heir Lord Elmo Tully, and his son Kermit, supported the Blacks. The Lannisters and Baratheons support Aegon, and the Tyrells remain neutral. The Martells have yet to join the fold.

Aegon II Targaryen

Eldest living male child of King Viserys I and his second wife Queen Alicent Hightower.

“The Great Council of 101 AC thereby established an iron precedent on matters of succession: regardless of seniority, the Iron Throne of Westeros could not pass to a woman, nor through a woman to her male descendants.” (Fire & Blood: Heirs of the Dragon - A Question of Succession)

We could look even further into this point, like bringing up personalities and whether or not one was worthier of the Iron Throne than the other; but none of that information is necessary in figuring out who is the rightful heir, and if supporting Aegon II over Rhaenyra is inherently misogynistic.

Onto my next point: Westeros is an Absolute Monarchy (up to the Dance of Dragons era, once the dragons are gone it becomes a completely feudal monarchy).

The definition, in simpler terms, is that the current ruler holds all power, and no one is allowed to undermine them. They have the final say; which is where the definitions of law, tradition, and precedent come into play.

The Great Council of 101 AC backs Viserys, and would back Aegon, by definition; but only in the case of the King having not already named his heir.

George R.R. Martin himself has stated the succession laws in Westeros are finicky and subject to change, “Well, the short answer is that the laws of inheritance in the Seven Kingdoms are modeled on those in real medieval history; which is to say, they were vague, uncodified, subject to varying interpretations, and often contradictory… The medieval world was governed by men, not by laws. You could even make a case that the lords preferred the laws to be vague and contradictory, since that gave them more power.”

The Great Council set a precedent, the naming of one’s firstborn son as heir is tradition, but the King’s word is law. As the lawful King of Westeros, Viserys is allowed to name whoever he wants as his heir. In this case, he chose his firstborn child: Rhaenyra Targaryen. This is the same process as Jaehaerys choosing Baelon over Rhaenys, only in that case, it was in favor of the male claimant. Even when given the opportunity to change his mind (seeing as he had three sons that he could choose from) he steadfastly upheld his daughter’s claim to the throne.

All of this points to Rhaenyra Targaryen being the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. Now, how does this tie into the claim that supporting Aegon over her is misogynistic?

As stated above, misogyny is ‘the dislike of, contempt for, or ingrained prejudice against women.’ Aegon only has two points towards him being the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, which is tradition and precedent. Neither of which helped his case beyond making him a claimant to the throne. Aegon’s claim derives entirely from Rhaenyra being a woman. Despite this, Rhaenyra is the named, lawful heir of the current monarch, therefore Queendom is her birthright. This is acknowledged by Aegon, “My sister is the heir, not me. What sort of brother steals his sister’s birthright?”

The point can be made that Aegon was manipulated into taking the throne by his mother, Dowager Queen Alicent, his grandfather, Ser Otto Hightower, and Lord Commander of the King’s Guard, Ser Criston Cole, on the basis that Rhaenyra would put him and his family to the death to secure her and her children’s succession. This is proven false, when after the stillbirth of her daughter, and her coronation, Rhaenyra makes a point of saying, “As for my half-brothers, and my sweet sister Helaena, they have been led astray by the counsel of evil men. Let them come to Dragonstone, bend the knee, and ask my forgiveness, and I shall gladly spare their lives and take them back into my heart, for they are of my own blood, and no man or woman is as accursed as the kinslayer.” Oathbreaking, kinslaying, etc. are considered some of the most wretched crimes in the Seven Kingdom, and Rhaenyra proved that this is a belief that she also shares.

Many fans of this work have gone on to state that they are Team Green because of the characters on that side, such as Alicent, Helaena, Aemond, etc., and not because they want Aegon on the throne, which is their right. Others, though, have stated that they believe in male primogeniture and go on to say some of the most vile, heinous things imaginable concerning Rhaenyra simply because they do not like her. This is your prerogative, but it doesn’t make it right.

Male primogeniture is misogynistic. If you believe in male primogeniture, it makes you a misogynist. The whole point of it is that men are better and more deserving of basic human decency than women. If Aegon’s only real claim to the throne derives from Rhaenyra being a woman, and you support him over her because of that, there are very high chances that you are a misogynist.

In the end, this is a fictional story. None of it is real, and we as an audience should be able to like and support whichever characters we want without being subjugated to name-calling or death threats because of the actions taken in the universe. There comes a point, however, where fiction and reality blend together. A Song of Ice and Fire is heavily inspired by events that happen in real life. An example of this would be the Dance of Dragons taking inspiration from the Anarchy, a civil war that took place in 12th century England between Princess Matilda and her cousin Stephen for the throne.

Let me reiterate that there is nothing wrong with liking or disliking certain characters.  The problem arises when fans of this work attempt to place themselves in-universe as nobles or peasants and resort to letting what is considered normal in medieval society influence how they interact and engage other fans of this work in the real world. The world of A Song of Ice and Fire is inherently misogynistic, homophobic, and racist; along with many other horrible things. It may have been normal then, but it isn’t normal now, and we as consumers have to be better about separating that. None of us should agree with any traditions, laws, or precedents that actively harm a subgroup of people in order to lift up others.

#a song of ice and fire #house of the dragon #game of thrones #rhaenyra targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #viserys i targaryen #aemma arryn #alicent hightower #helaena targaryen #aemond targaryen #daeron targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #lucerys velaryon #joffrey velaryon #aegon iii targaryen #viserys ii targaryen #rhaenys targaryen #corlys velaryon #laena velaryon #laenor velaryon #baelon targaryen #jaehaerys targaryen #baela targaryen #rhaena targaryen #otto hightower #criston cole #team black #queen rhaenyra #team green

[preservationofnormalcy]

I found an old computer in my basement, I didn't recognize the branding or model but was curious and turned it on.

So my question for you is, what do you do when a dorment AI wakes up and has trapped you inside your own house until you meet its demands? Even if you have no idea what a "Green aceess level 7 Tycho protocol override" is?

Hoo boy, this one was a wild ride to research. Our director of the AbTech Divison, Harrison Chou, is here in the office, actually. Do I speak into the microphone, Norman? Yeah. Just -- right there, mhmm. I see. Mhm. Let me see...asking for 7 Tycho. You should be looking at the Model 6677. Haven't the foggiest how it ended up with you, sir, but regardless...it should have an audio interface. Repeat after me: Echo-six, kazoo, 77-55-98, midnight. Rich walk, A* A*....Dammerung. What?

Override code, Norman. Above your clearance.

How is it above my--

You should see it shut down. We will be reclaiming AbTech property quite soon. Stand by for questioning.

#office for the preservation of normalcy #ask #advice #AbTech #artificial intelligence

[horizon-verizon]

Aegon III and Jaehaera “healing together” would be like:

Jaehaera: I miss my father.

Aegon III, having a PTSD trigger: Well, I miss my mother! AND YOU KNOW WHO GRUESOMELY KILLED MY MOTHER WHILE I WAS WATCHING ?!

Jaehaera: And I miss my twin brother! AND YOU KNOW WHO SEND THE MEN WHO BEHEADED HIM IN FRONT OF ME & MY MOM ?!

Aegon III: Nothing would have happened if your grandmother didn’t usurped my mother and your uncle didn’t ruthlessly murdered my brother.

Their marriage would have been SOOO INCREDIBLY UGLY, BITTER, MISERABLE AND HOPELESS. That union never stood a chance. Aegon III spent about 3 years married to her and never made any attempt to befriend her and had more interactions with Unwin Peake’s daughter than her. They wouldn’t have any children, he’d abdicate in favor of Viserys if he didn’t marry Daenaera and then locked himself in a tower.

Yeah, I agree. I understand that the real English War of the Roses that war/sub-battles ended with a happier and successful marriage between the two warring houses of York and Lancaster so it seems that Aegon III and Jaehaera could have also had a great marriage--or at least a civil one with a lot of kids/heirs. However, though yes we had the structure of "one child of the two warring families marry for peace" of the War of Roses, the Dance was modeled and takes inspiration from the Anarchy. Where Empress Matilda fought against her male cousin, Stephen of Blois, for the English throne. Where the conflict was strictly about who deserves the throne: the female declared heir or the eldest male relative? And who will obtain it, who fights for them, who suffers, etc.

Plus Henry VII of the Plantagenet branch of Tudor (through Jon of Gaunt) & Elizabeth of the house of York--the people who married each other while from the opposing houses after the Battle of Bosworth Field--were both relatively healthy adults AND Henry actually won the throne through his own leadership in battle after killing Richard II (her paternal uncle). The same uncle whose mainly held responsible for Elizabeth's younger brothers' disappearances. So Henry & Elizabeth had a way better beginning than Aegon III & Jaehaera.

Even with the Anarchy, GRRM doesn't transfer all of the events or major ones/results into his fiction. The conclusion of the anarchy was still a woman being passed over: Stephen won and got to rule but Empress Matilda's son--Henry Plantagenet-- was designated as the next to rule in the Treaty of Wallingford. She wasn't brutally murdered in front of said son like Rhaenyra, and despite Stephen's efforts his own sons never sat the throne. But the war ravaged England as the Dance did Westeros enough that in both the lords/barons sought peace above all AND Matilda lost the throne. GRRM seemed to want to capture the sense of futility of the war's destruction. There was no happy-dappy marriage or even an attempt at one in the real thing.

Jaehaera was made totally disadvantaged for a reason:

a) making her and Aegon both children in the aftermath of the war, controlled by ambitious adults still who do not have their best interests at heart makes to highlight theie vulnerability and the cause being misogyny and classism leading those in power to declare such wars

b) their parents fighting and destroying each other to the bitter end instead of what occurred in the actual Anarchy

c) the greens pushed for war under the principle of "men only" at the cost of its female members' mental and physical health or putting those in danger (mainly Helaena and Jaehaera) for the sake of power. Jaehaera could have grown up happier and for longer if her own father hadn't decided to calm down and not try to go after several of Rhaenyra's supporters in the way that he was planning to, nor should he have usurped his older sister. He shouldn't have celebrated Lucerys' murder at the feast he threw that was almost certainly part of the inspiration for Blood & Cheese whereby his oldest male heir was killed. His other male heir was put into danger when he, again, usurped Rhaenyra and led armies against her when she had been already declared and ACCEPTED as Viserys heir for years. All he had left was his daughter left, but bc the whole point of his claim was "males only" AND he was himself an asshole, he decided to marry again to get another male heir. It was also Alicent who tried to intimidate or persuade her granddaughter to kill Aegon as if the child wasn't already scarred from war and mentally fragile from her disabilities so that she, Alicent, could get revenge against the already dead Rhaenyra. The greens, not the blacks or Rhaenyra, are the main ones at fault for Jaehaera's demise--her death is on their hands since every which way, they chose power over her.

#asoiaf asks to me #aegon iii #jaehaera targaryen #fire and blood characters #asoiaf #fire and blood #aegon iii's characterization #aegon iii and jaehaera #english history #medeival history #war of the roses #the anarchy #fiction vs reality #the dance of dragons #fire and blood writing

[good-beans]

You talked a little while ago about why you don't think Shidou would make a good father to Amane (agreed) and proposed the idea of Mahiru adopting Amane. That's cute but I want to tell you about my post-MILGRAM headcanon:

Amane joins the Kajiyamas

Not Fuuta specifically adopting her, but like him taking her back to his family's house. I'm sure they'd have a spare room

I think people don't think about Fuuta's homelife much, or if they do they take Fuuta's one interrogation question where he calls his dad an old fogey and assume its like, abusive

And don't get me wrong, I don't think the Kajiyama household are perfect. Fuuta' beautician sister surely hasn't helped when it comes to Fuuta's body image issues and I'm betting they're all a bunch of tsunderes too embarrassed to say they love each other

But in a series where most of the abused characters are still convinced their abuser loved them/acted out of love. Seeing a guy not be afraid to call his dad a loser is almost a green flag

I think it'd be good for Amane to not necessarily be adopted as the lone child to a single parent but get to be introduced to a very different style of family unit from her own One where its normal to express different opinions or disagreements or even have arguments and not have it be the end of the world

Amane already has a snarky side to her, I bet it'd flourish in a brash household like the Kajiyama's (or at least how I imagine them to be)

OOHHH wait I love that so much! >:O

I agree -- I never interpreted Fuuta's family as abusive or harmful, just not super close and struggling a bit after his mother left. (And yeah, all as openly emotional as him😭) They seem stable and very capable to taking in a extra, very well-behaved child. Assuming Fuuta is the way he is because of them, that atmosphere of being very honest and forward would work well for her. They say things as they are, little by little pointing out the harmful parts of her worldview. Like you said, none of them make excuses about harmful behavior stemming from love, so she'd get a really healthy dose of truth in that area. She never feels coddled or treated like a baby. They care for her while treating her very maturely.

I absolutely love how well she and Fuuta get along, with that snarky side to her that you mentioned. It would allow her to fit in well in the new household, getting the sense of belonging she'll lose after leaving the cult. Also, seeing how Fuuta and his sister let things slip and aren't perfect sons/daughters, she'll be able to relax about earning a parent's love through perfect behavior. She'll probably stay exactly the same, but her stress about it will fade <3

I doubt Fuuta's father can ever replace the hole she'll have from her own father, but the addition of an older sister will be huge. Amane will never get the feeling her mother is being replaced, but the woman will still fill the gap of the older, same-gender role model she needs. Her beautician job may throw Amane at first (being an indulgence in vanity), but it isn't as in-your-face as other careers. I think she could definitely ease Amane into accepting it, and over time, accepting her own personal "indulgence."

Plus, her moving in would also be really good for Fuuta! I think he'd recognize there's a ton of fun things she missed out on, and that heroic side of him outweighs the part that cringes: he gripes and groans about going to "kid places," but he's always the one to announce "I can't believe you've never been to __, we're going right now!!" This allows him to touch grass leave the house and experience his own life to the fullest. He's able to channel his desire to help society into a healthier outlet. Also, seeing her studying habits and plans for the future might even inspire him to do the same. (might.) He becomes the stereotypical good big brother, though of course he denies it viciously...

I have recently been going insane over their friendship so I'm completely taken with this idea OUGH thank you for telling me ;-----;

#milgram #amane momose #fuuta kajiyama #i am going to think about this nonstop now 😭✨ #ive literally been thinking of how much i love their sibling relationship but didnt consider them becoming Actual siblings ;---; #my heart... #the way i interpret the family theyd be able to give her a good mix of treating her like an adult and still giving her the 'childish' care #that she missed out on #and that honesty would just be really healthy for her #she learns not to fear punishment because if someone has a problem with her theyll just say it and move on #she is also a very straightforward person so shed communicate well with all of them #and yeah... i never realized how good an older sister would be for her but thats perfect #also i dont think fuuta is that fucked up lol but it sounds like he has no commitment to school/his future #so once he realizes he wants to help amane and be there for her he really buckles down on everything #if anyone can Fix Him amane can asdfsdfs #now im picturing all the adults scrambling to prepare themselves and trying to figure out if they're in a state to take on a new child #the time comes to leave milgram and they plan this whole speech to ask amane who she'd feel most comfortable living with and all this stuff #then they spot her walking away with fuuta while hes actively trying to get her to stop following him 💀💀💀 #ask #rose posts