#the brain worms aren’t leaving me alone

[atomicradiogirl]

i find it a very interesting choice that house md ends on enjoy yourself rather than you can’t always get what you want or maybe even the actual lyrical version of teardrop by massive attack.

enjoy yourself is the most optimistic of the songs and i’ve seen people complain that it kind of comes from nowhere and the actual meaning of the song especially considering that post-canon, wilson will die and house is dead figuratively (and will probably die literally with wilson), the song is not only a call to the viewer to live their lives to the fullest but asks house and wilson to enjoy the time they have left as they drive away from us, their stories are fundamentally over.

enjoy yourself is only referenced one other time in the show when hallucination amber sings it to house at a restaurant just before the hallucination finale of season 5. this presentation of enjoy yourself by “ghost” amber, someone who haunts house from his guilt over her death and near destruction of his relationship with wilson as a result is also a callback to her death in the first place. house is so scared by hallucination amber singing this song to him he begs wilson over the phone to pick him up, the exact request that killed amber. the optimistic song about living out your life to the fullest sung by the manifestation of his guilt, someone who died too soon also coupled with kutner dying 3 episodes prior to this, just makes the final use of this song so fascinating. the house writers obviously called back to this moment because it was house’s fear of death and change that made the initial scene scary. meanwhile house accepts wilson’s death and his death in the finale after healing and growing. this is why i think enjoy yourself is the perfect finale song. the house writers are telling us that they accept that their time is up and we should too, even though death is horrible and tragic and scary at the same time, everybody dies.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

☾ Wild Horses ☽

☾ Pairing: boyfriend!bang chan x reader

☾ Genre: angst & fluff all stirred up in a pot

☾ Summary: Your boyfriend comforts you when your depression sneaks up on you during a night out with friends.

☾ Word Count: 924

☾ Warnings: themes of depression/mental illness and the feelings that can come along with them

☾ A/N: I wrote this because having depression has led to a lot of loneliness for me lately and I needed some comfort. I hope that by sharing this someone else having similar thoughts/feelings to mine might find a little comfort too 🖤

☾ "No sweeping exits or offstage lines could make me feel bitter or treat you unkind and wild horses couldn't drag me away" - The Sundays, Wild Horses

People can’t imagine what you go through. It’s not a case of bad nerves or run-of-the-mill sadness. Too often you’ve found yourself sitting alone wishing that you could find the words to make them understand that depression is so much more than that. Depression is a parasite that’s wormed its way into your brain wholly consuming you.

The consumption’s gradual sometimes, ravenous at others, but exhausting all the same, stealing little bits of you that you aren’t quite sure how to get back. Everyone says, “I hope you feel better. Hang in there. Keep your chin up” but it’s not simple. And maybe they mean well, maybe that’s all they can say because they don’t know how to fix it, but it only makes you feel lonelier.

The thing is, you’ve never wanted anyone to fix it. You don’t need bandaids to cover the bullet holes in your heart. You just want someone to hold your hand through the pain. It’s why the tiniest flame ignites in the darkness that haunts you when the kind, comfort of Chan’s mahogany eyes lock onto yours, honing in on the most vulnerable parts of you.

“I know sometimes you feel like you have to pretend you’re okay,” he says, the warmth of his palms shielding your cheeks from the autumn breeze, “But you don’t have to do that with me. I’m here for you no matter what. You know that, yeah?” You nod, sucking back tears as you notice the small group of late-night partiers crossing over to your side of the street.

With your back to the wall of a closed restaurant not too far from the club you just left, it’s impossible not to be nervous about the faces that pass you by. Even with Chan somewhat obscuring the view, your stomach churns at the possibility that people might see you falling apart like this. “Hey, look at me” Chan whispers, using the sleeve of his black hoodie to catch the tears that drip down your cheeks like water from a leaky faucet.

The gentle act brings your attention back to him. He cracks a tight-lipped smile, happy to have you back with him. “Don’t worry about them. Come here.” He takes you into his arms, offering you his shoulder to rest your head on. You accept the invitation, nuzzling against him to bathe in the comfort and safety that comes with his embrace. There’s a woodsy scent to his cologne that feels like stargazing by a campfire at night. It puts you at ease. Everything about him does.

“I’m sorry if I ruined your night” you sniffle, playing with one of the strings that dangles from his hood. Tucking his hands under your jacket, he massages your lower back, soothing the tension coiled around your spine. “Baby, you could never ruin my night. The guys were too busy drinking to notice anything and even if they did, who cares? You’re what matters to me.” The emotion in his voice leaves no doubt that he means it wholeheartedly.

You are what matters most to him in this moment and the next. It means nothing to him that a night out at some club had to be cut short because the mask you put on to conceal your pain had begun to crumble, the synthetic laughter and forced smiles becoming too much to maintain. Chan gets it, hiding behind a mask with a happy face painted on it, he does it sometimes too but he doesn't want that for you. He’d rather be out here with you baring this beautiful, teary-eyed face of yours than in there where you feel the need to hide.

“I just,” you take a deep breath, slightly trembling at the truth about to roll off your tongue, “I’m afraid I’ll scare you away one day.” “Scare me? Do I look like I scare easily?” he asks, putting on a brave face the way that a child might. It gets a weak giggle out of you, even at times like this he knows how to get to you in the best way. “No, but I know there are times when things get really dark for me and I can get so lost in it...” He kisses you on the nose, a cute little wet one that turns icy when the wind blows across your face.

“As long as I’m here, and I always will be, you’ll never get lost in it,” he promises, “I know I can’t drag you out of it but you can always call me and I’ll come running in after you.” You need time. A second or two, maybe even a minute, to take in what’s been said. He gives it to you, patiently rocking you in his arms as he lets you process it in silence. A year into your relationship and it still feels strange to be loved in the moments where you feel most broken.

Chest to chest, his heart beats in sync with yours, reminding you that, even in the absence of words, you're cared for. “Where’d you come from?” you ask, fingers tracing the contour of his jaw. “Sydney. Don’t tell me you’re just noticing the accent” he teases, summoning his best pouty face for extra effect. He gets another giggle out of you, still faint with an air of sadness but he’ll take it.

Chan hugs you tighter, kissing your fingertips. “I love you” he whispers. You close your eyes, letting the world around you fade away and your insecurities with it. “Love you too.”

[earthtoharlow]

SERIES MASTERLIST

JACKHARLOW

liked by cozane, tmz, urbanwyatt, neelamthadhani, yungskylark and 841,425 others

jackharlow: Two weeks ago today, paternity test results revealed that I fathered a child with Stacey James. I take full responsibility for my actions and now that paternity has been established I look forward in raising our daughter amicably.

I want to sincerely apologize to all my friends and family that I’ve hurt and disappointed these past few months both publicly and privately. Most importantly, I want to apologize to YOURINSTA. You didn’t deserve the heartbreak and humiliation this has caused you. I will do everything in my power to get back in your good graces even if it’s only a friendship. I will forever love you.

View all 10,578 comments

user: YIKES!!!

user: you’re a fucking idiot

user: I don’t like y/n but she’s an idiot if she takes him back after this

neelamthadhani: proud of you for being so mature about this 🫶

user: mature how????

user: he’s mature because he finally stopped lying about that baby being his? Okay sis

user: is his whole team stupid?

urbanwyatt: you must have worms for brains, why didn’t you turn the comments off

saweetie: honestly I think you should go to hell

user: hope he starts dating Stacey tbh 🫣

thatgirlstacey: excited to co parent with you

YOURINSTA

liked by saweetie, lilnasx, normani, SZA, druski, urbanwyatt and 789,046 others

yourinsta: Smoking on my ex pack

view all 7457 comments

Saweetie : I KNOW THATS RIIIIGHT!

user: glad you aren’t letting the news bring you down

normani: GNO soon!

user: your post been kinda bitter lately

user: well her boyfriend of two years cheated and had a baby on her

user: we honestly should be glad she hasn’t killed Jack yet

SZA: KILL BILL

yourinsta: not the best ideaaaaa 🔪

urbanwyatt: check your dms please

saweetie: leave her the hell alone, and tell that mop headed friend of yours as well

THATGIRLSTACEY

liked by jackharlow, 1dessdior, theshaderoom, nemoachida and 678,456 others

thatgirlstacey: mom & dad 👨‍👩‍👧

view all 8,456 comments

user: he ain’t really want that baby fr

user: low down and nasty

user: I promise no one cares

user: Jack is really a dilf

urbanwyatt: 🤦🏼‍♂️

user: anyone else think she’s doing this for attention? Or to make y/n jealous?

SZA: LOL

saweetie: can’t stand a weird lame bitch

THESHADEROOM

Liked by 756,056 users

theshaderoom: Well, looks like Stacey and the judge are gonna make Jack Harlow’s pockets hurt! Jack Harlow will pay Stacey James nearly 10,000 per month in child support for their 3 month old daughter, Willow. The judge stating that Stacey doesn’t make enough to support Willow by herself.

view all 6789 comments

user: these men will never learn

user: DAMN

user: I mean it could’ve been worse 😵‍💫

user: is no one gonna point out the fact that the judge called her a broke bitch

YOURINSTA

liked by saweetie, SZA, dojacat,djdrama, thehomies and 967,367 others

yourinsta: Her baby daddy got some money, but I think I'm richer

view all 8,478 comments

user: HAHAHAHAHA

user: whole lotta money 💰

user: I love a petty queen

SZA: rich flex

user: Jack’s grandpa would have a heart attack seeing that

user: girl give that money back to whoever it belongs too 🙄

saweetie: humble brag 🤑

user: be my sugar momma

notjackharlow: seriously?

urbanwyatt: just shut the fuck up Jack

saweetie: y/n do you need me to kick his ass?

yourinsta: go be a father

NEXT PART

[sterekdyke]

Okay but I can’t stop thinking about girl!Jake (Jake Bradley and ice and mav all as women, everyone else can be canon gender I guees), fighting tooth and nail to get on the boys football team in high school and killing it on the field and then putting on a cute little sun dress and being all charming country cowgirl esque and all the boys love her and the girls don’t know what to do with her, but she bonds with girls over ‘girly’ things (which she genuinely does love) and with boys about sports and how her brothers taught her to fix cars, and the whole school would fuck her if she let them. But she won’t…

But Jake wants to fly planes, and she can’t do that if she’s out, so she makes out with her gal pals at sleep overs and complains to her best friend Javy. He and her joke that Jake should have been into men so they could be together, but they both are ride or die and understand that their friendship is just as important as any future partners they may have.

Jake falls in love with a woman who’s a little older than their cohort and always wears dumb Hawaiian shirts and has these stupid curls and long long legs. Bradley clearly has some big attachment issues and is incredibly avoidant one minute and then when they’re alone she’s all over Jake. Sure, they have to be careful of DADT, but women are allowed to physical in a way men aren’t, so what gives?? The only person Jake sees Bradley be affectionate with without reservation is Natasha Trace and it makes Jake want to set her own plane on fire. Why can’t Jake and Bradley cuddle in the rec room the way Bradley and Nat do? It would be fine…

So she flies like she’s on fucking fire, just like her hero (and ‘celebrity’ crush) Maverick (one of the first female fighter pilots, one of the best pilots ever) and unknowingly triggers the fuck out of Bradley who pushes her away further. Jake tells Bradley she loves her before graduation, Bradley tells her they have to choose flying or each other, and she doesn’t want to ask that of Jake, so she chose for them. She wants Jake to fly and forget they ever were more than friends.

Javy, being besties with Jake, has no reservations with hitting women in a fist fight, which he makes very clear to Bradley after she breaks Jake’s heart. Bradley ruins the satisfaction by basically saying please hit me and crying all over Javy, who is just too weirded out by measured and detached (when it comes to Jake) Bradley Bradshaw sobbing about how everything always ends and people always die or lie or get torn away and Javy better fucking punch her lights out and promise to make sure Jake is happy and in the sky and he better fucking promise not to mention this conversation to Jake. Javy calls Nat to come get Bradley. He doesn’t punch her in the face like she so desperately wants him to. It seems to earn Javy brownie points with Nat.

Jake doesn’t learn about that conversation for many years. She does learn other things though. DADT ends and her other lifelong hero Admiral Tomaszi ‘Iceman’ Kazansky comes out in the aftermath, as a lesbian (which, duh have you seen that woman’s frosted tipped flat top????). Iceman gets a lot of flack from all ranks, but her achievements speak for themselves and Jake is in total awe. In the release Kazansky spoke of the harm DADT had done her community and her family, and she hoped it was a step forward. She mentioned a partner, and there was a slew of speculation, but Jake was too busy getting laid to give it much thought. She sent Bradley a text, one of solidarity and excitement: “if THE ICEMAN can come out so can we 🎉” Bradley leaves her on read. Jake gets the hint. Etc etc…

I have more weird lesbian brain worms, but idk if I’ll keep going or write this, but HANGSTER AS LESBIANS WHY HAS NO ONE DONE IT????

[garlic-and-vanilla]

“We are free. Our freedom is ours. Friend!”

As if a tentacled mass of slimy, jiggling brain-meat isn’t unsettling enough, this one is speaking through the parasite in your mind. It trills in the high, excited voice of a child, shouting one moment and whispering the next.

“We must go to the helm! At the helm we are needed.”

We? What could this thing want from you now, and what does it think you’re going to do at the helm? That area of the ship is bound to be swarming with mindflayers.

“…why the helm?”

You really do not like how the intellect devourer pitches its body and quivers, like a dog listening with rapt attention to its master’s voice. Its response confirms your suspicions.

“Do you not hear it? We will not survive here.”

That’s true enough. The ship shudders and groans around you. What parts of it aren’t on fire strongly resemble a crushed beetle, the rifts in its dark carapace bleeding pink and silver ooze.

“We are needed to navigate- we are needed to leave this realm.”

You eye the creature, and the impression of a tentacled face and glowing eyes swims through your mind. Are they watching through the devourer even now?

The ship shudders again, light spilling into the room as a piece of its hull rips away. You cannot know the mindflayers’ connection to their pet brain, but it’s clear that staying here is a death sentence. You try to rub greasy ash away from your eyes and stumble toward the new hole in the wall. The devourer skitters after at your heels.

“Listen…” maybe you can send it off on its own without arousing suspicion. Surely the mindflayers have more important problems than you to deal with right now. “I helped you once, but that’s all I can do.”

It hops ahead of you and turns around, wriggling oddly, and the thing behind your eye stirs.

“Do nothing for me. Do everything for us.”

It feels like a gentle admonishment, a finger tapping your shoulder in emphasis. You almost nod, then catch yourself, startling like you’d nearly fallen asleep. You shake your head, then scrub your hands over your face, willing the intrusive feelings away.

“Okay, okay! I’ll go, just not with you,” you try. That damn worm is already making itself at home. You need it out, you need help that isn’t allied with the squidheads, you need to just, just-!

Breathe. Think. Survive the next five minutes.

The devourer trundles out onto the broken deck, curling its tentacles close in the wind. Hope sparks in your chest, that it’s finally going to leave you alone, but it turns around again, clearly waiting.

“You are us. Friend.”

Damn it, no you’re not. You are you. You. And it’s going to stay that way if you have anything to say about it. You step outside, and have to brace against the furnace heat of the wind, snarling and shielding your eyes.

“I am not like you!”

The little monster wriggles at you, an impression of soft fingers on your cheek.

“You are.”

You groan and stalk forward. There’s nowhere else you can go, and arguing with the intellect devourer isn’t getting you anywhere.

“Fine. What should I call you?”

“Us,” it corrects you again, insistent, “We are us.”

You grimace at it and keep walking, stumbling over the uneven, slippery remains of the deck. A dangling bit of viscera from the ship’s hull slaps against your shoulder.

“Ugh. Why?” You yell over the wind, “Why did they force me onto this ship?”

It trills in your mind, “To know you. To love you. To give you our gift.”

Your stomach churns in revulsion at the thing’s sincerity, at the impression of sublime communion swelling behind its words. You haul yourself over something that looks like a huge, crushed seashell and snarl again.

“Your gift? That thing they put in my eye?”

The devourer plops over the obstacle and keens joy into your mind. “A gift. A gift to make you as we are. Soon you will be so beautiful. So powerful.”

You clench your fists and stare the thing down. You’re so caught up between horror and frustration you don’t notice the githyanki until there’s four feet of naked steel in your face.

“Abomination!” She cries, “This is your end!”

—

So… Ghall has escaped their pod, avoided being covered in caustic brine from the nursery pool, and met “Us” the intellect devourer.

I love the little conversations you can have with “Us,” and how it introduces the player to the mentality of an illithid collective. The line “To know you. To love you. To give you our gift” especially. Ceremorphosis is a love story babes, let’s get going down down down by the river.

Actual dialogue below, and bonus lines from a different devourer running around near Shadowheart’s pod.

[sir-yeehaw-paws]

So,

I’d like to talk about Zero. Major Zero. Just as I threatened said, I would. Zero absolutely fascinates me on so many levels.

My headcanon essays aren’t rants. I do want to make that clear. I write them because I adore these characters. The good, the bad, the confusing, and all the messes in between. If nothing else, these can all largely be summed up as: LOOK HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS. LOOK HOW MUCH FUN I’M HAVING.

Anyway.

Given that every MGS character gives me an ungodly amount of brain worms, that’s not hard. It’d be so easy to say he’s ‘a well done villain’ and leave it. But I’m the sort of person who sorta treats MGS characters like this, even the most mindlessly evil ones.

Because to me personally, I see them as complicated in motivation, in personality. They are not good people *save a genuine handful throughout the series*. I don’t believe they were written, nor intended to be, and I genuinely appreciate them in all their grey and black glory. I like that you aren’t hand-fed characters personalities, that they change and alter over time the way people would adapt to their situations, their worlds. And that at the end of the day, their war criminals in a war machine and (save for maybe Huey) willing to admit or at the very least somewhat understand.

(I’d also note that a story protagonist does not have to be a good, nor innocent person, but I already think that MGS handles that perfectly well in general) Regardless, my focus here is still on Major Zero. Who I think managed to end up being one of the most terrifying characters in the series. Which is saying a lot, considering the rooster of people we’re dealing with. Also pretty impressive considering the man is essentially comatose after 1976. Right up until Big Boss pulls his life support in 2014.

But that doesn’t negate the system he created, the projects he invented, and the intense sway he had over both people, and information for decades before that. It’s also worth considering that he was working with people like, Skull Face. Sure, Zero makes some claims about not knowing how off the rails or dangerous Skull Face was, but I’d also like to point out that the Vocal Chord Parasite wasn’t originally Skull Face’s creation.

It was Zero’s. Or, to be more specific, the will of his predecessors.

Essentially, Skull Face ended up taking an already pre-existing entity his superiors had created, and turned it into a beast beyond which they’d comprehended themselves. Skull Face also poisons Zero around this time with the fake pin badge. Something disguised as a gift, as Zero’s paranoia had him in deep hiding himself. (All messages via cut out, after all).

In the MGS Fandom Wiki, Cipher is defined as follows:

Cipher is responsible, in series for the following:

Les Enfants Terribles

Peace Walker

Ground Zeroes (I will note here that this was not Zero himself, but Skull Face after having gone rogue. Any incidence after that had nothing to do with Zero himself, I’ll note them only for the specifics of the organization at large)

The Phantom Pain (Vocal Chord Parasite, Attempted Annihilation/Genocide of Humans via biochemical warfare)

And by the 2000′s, Cipher is largely AI controlled alone.

Zero’s real specialty is in controlling information, I pointed it out here, but I want to go into much more detail in this post. Because while it might not seem like much, there’s a great deal of implication to information control, and it has a very real component in society today. There is no stretch to believe governments can control information, and while MGS is fictional, the things Zero does certainly have some real world basis.

He covers up the Ground Zero’s attack, and freely admits not everyone bought the story. (Sorry for using links here it’s too easy to hit image limit on this website). When speaking in the tapes to Skull Face, he’s fairly candid since, at this point, he trusts Skull Face as his XO and we get some general insight into how he views people and their own beliefs.

There’s a quiet arrogance to this statement I personally can’t fathom, but can imagine someone who truly believes himself in a position where he’s got people all figured out. Seems to believe that the world operates on a hive-mind that he can feed provided he and his network are in charge of that hive mind.

Now, I don’t feel like Cipher’s desire to unite the world is inherently a bad thing. A world where we are all equal, regardless of country, birth, status, race, sexuality. In this Zero is not so different from others. The MSF, Diamond Dogs, FoxHound. All of these entities surpass the ideology of nations being borders, and take people as people.

Where it gets out of hand and out of control (much as Big Boss himself would later in life with the concept of Outer Heaven) is that in Zero’s perfect world, someone is still in charge. People are told what to do, how to think, how to behave and how to operate. So people are united under a single banner, but that banner has people like Zero at the helm, and within that helm, are a bunch of suppressed people without free will.

THAT is where the issue arises. Interestingly enough, I don’t know if I can cast Zero in the light as some power-hungry dictator. What makes Zero so complicated (and by extension so scary) is his desire isn’t driven because he wants people bowing and kowtowing at his feet, but because he seems to honestly, genuinely believe he’s doing what the Boss wanted. Because, as it is with Big Boss, Zero seems to have held some mild obsession with her (and his own obsession with Big Boss), to have her dream carried out. Even though, much like Big Boss, Zero misunderstood it entirely.

It’s also telling that, for as immoral as Ocelot is, and as ruthless, there is one distinction he can make from Zero. Ocelot, fundamentally understands and even seems to value that people are people.

That machines breed nothing but trouble in the long run if they are going to think FOR you. (MGS4 turns a lot of this into a more muddled mess, but that’s a different post and more complicated than I can sum up here, but I still believe Ocelot was intentionally bringing down the system in MGS4, so, anyway).

For all Zero’s talk, his desires, he seems to fail to recognize that humans are going to be humans. Messy, complicated. Confusing. Does Zero over simply humans? Hard to say. But I don’t think he values them very much.

Like Ocelot, however, this is also something Skull Face understands as well.

Skull Face.

Something something “worst person you know made a good point’ meme here.

Because whether Zero likes it or not, people are going to think for themselves. In a larger scale, that is part of what separates humans from animals. We have the brain power, the capacity, to think and behave for ourselves.

Humans do appreciate structure, but they do not appreciate that structure being mitigated by someone who denotes himself as being able to speak for others. Because in the end, what gave Zero that right? It isn’t like the Boss said, “Here, Zero, carry out my legacy.” he apparently came to these conclusions, these decisions, on his own.

There’s something so strange about Zero’s world view. He wants, essentially, to end individualism entirely. Blank faces, blank slates. Utterly meaningless. A gathering of NPC’s. And that will somehow bring the world peace. Again, uniting people is not a bad thing, but people can be united AND have free will. and their own individualism.

I mentioned it in my Les Enfants Terribles post, but again, I’ll expand here. Going on what was said above, Zero seems to have little regard for people overall. But he’s not nearly as docile as he presents himself. He speaks in an even, cordial tone that’s very symbolic of the ‘classic British upper crust’ that became stereotypical of British elites at one time or another, but he makes it very clear that the politeness only goes so far.

He’s incredibly manipulative, to start with. But what makes that fascinating to me is it’s subtly. A lot of what Zero says has a thinly-veiled threat behind it reminding you that for all his posh words and hand-painted tea cups, he’s a combat vet (SAS), an intelligence agent, and intellectually on the same level of manipulation as Ocelot.

See this post for the Ocelot tapes. (I’m already running out of image limits here)

How many people can genuinely claim, within the series, to be able to manipulate, much less threaten, Ocelot?

Kaz doesn’t get off scott-free either, but Zero is far more condescending with Kaz, and less willing to toy.

Not entirely sure how many ways someone could take that, but. Ok.

Except I’m not sure how truthful Zero is being here. as he knows the attack was Skull Face and was, up to this point, working with Skull Face. I COULD argue that he’s keeping Kaz safe from Skull Face, but I’m not sure about that. Mostly because of this conversation from the Skull Face and Zero recording:

I can feel your brimming confidence in Kaz from here, Zero *sarcasm*.

So what is the truth? Honestly..not sure.

Returning to the Kaz and Zero recording:

And Kaz and Ocelot start working together because Zero said so.

At this point, Venom Snake has already been created. A large part of this set up apparently is to get Kaz..to Venom. So not only is Zero manipulating him, but he’s convienently leaving out that the Snake Kaz is going to return to, is going to be another man. The double.

Played like a damned fiddle indeed.

He’s more blunt and talks to Kaz like he’s a whiny child (using his full name, threatening to hang up and then attempting to appeal a bit to his humanity to pacify him). I do regret that again, screen caps are unable to convey tone, but all of these tapes are incredibly well voice acted and you get the message very well.

Anyone can threaten, anyone can make all the statements they please, but Zero is fully willingly, and able, to carry those threats out. Enough so that Ocelot and Kaz are both aware of this, and behave accordingly.

Thinking about that, and how Zero has enough power to keep even Ocelot under thumb (at this point in the mid 1970′s at least) is a very good symbol of how strong, all seeing and all powerful he is. It worries them because it SHOULD worry them. That is the kind of unfathomable control Zero has at this point in time. Even though he knows it’s going to slip away, hence passing control over to Donald Anderson (Sigint). So while Zero himself won’t be in charge, he’s left enough instructions that what he wants to have happen in the world will continue, because that’s the sort of influence he’s got.

And ability.

When Zero was attacked, he was able to escape and take over New York, temporarily.

I think what ends up being further insidious is that Zero’s reach extends far beyond all this. Even after Zero is left virtually comatose from Skull Face’s attack, it hardly matters. Because programs put forth long before any of that happen play out exactly as he planned it. Sigint is able to take over Cipher under the AI’s and eventually the third Les Enfants Terribles child, Solidus Snake, George Sears, is made President of the United due to the will of the Patriots/Cipher.

That same program of course ends up ousting him later on. And responsible for large portions of the MGS2 story. And it’s that same program that eventually becomes the very web-controlled information network that has created the absolutely bleak setting of MGS4.

All because a man with a seemingly unfathomable desire to unify humans under the faceless, the controlled in the belief that he was following the will of a another, and could never accept that he was not only wrong about that will, but that his friend, his buddy, was still a human being. And that he too was a human being.

Obviously, we’ll never get any true insight into how Zero was thinking in regards to all of his motivations. And I do think that his feelings for his friends, and people he did care about *when he could even consider them people in the first place*, was genuine. When he says ‘Wake up soon, old friend” I do think he legitimately does see Snake as a friend. In whatever twisted, bizarre way that may be.

i think he was clever, arrogant, a touch naive and a well done antagonist. I think that the snippets and bits and pieces we get did work well for the purpose of the story, as it would be easy to overuse him and make him cartoonish. So the balance is achieved pretty well. MGS can go over the top sometimes, but in this case, I don’t think they did. I think that there’s much to chew on with Zero, because for all that he is polite, he’s deadly, dangerous, and someone you fervently would never, ever want to cross.

A bit on the nose, but Ocelot sums it all up pretty nicely here, doesn’t he?

[angelmichelangelo]

I know nothing about TMNT, except that they pizza I think?? But I am already in love with TLOU, so please share insights on your fic!!

hoo boy don’t tempt me into infodumping about the ninja turtles cos i will do it in full force without hesitation. and once i get going i won’t be able to stop, so proceed at your own risk lol

more under the cut because i go a little crazy oops

so my apocalypse au! i wrote a little fic about seven years ago that i ended up orphaning on my ao3 but for good reason - my old tmnt fics were just. horrendously written. like, barely readable from the bad grammar and such - so i thought why not remake it !

so it’s basically about the boys, obviously, and i kinda take a little bit of every iteration for this au, since it’s also a human au. and like i said in my post, i’m probably gonna borrow a LOT of elements of tlou cos that’s like. a little brain worm that won’t leave my head right now so it’s kind of perfect timing for this fic to be written, if i ever actually finish it

so in this version leo and mikey are half siblings. leo is half japanese half white and mikey is biracial

donnie and raph are biological twins that are italian american. they’re not related to mikey and leo but they’re close as brothers.

in this version i borrow the idea from rise that they’re different ages:

leo is 20

raph + donnie are 17

mikey is 12 (because i’m such a sucker for there being a bigger age gap between the oldest and the youngest)

april and casey are also part of the crew and they’re 17 also.

so the apocalypse starts and splinter (mikey + leo’s dad) bites it, rip, and so they escape home to get to casey’s apartment where the rest of the gang is. april’s dad is dead. don and raph’s mother is missing. casey’s dad is gone and tbh he doesn’t care because fuck casey’s dad (he’s abusive in the comics and it’s implied in other iterations too) so it just leaves the kids alone and.. honestly im just killing off all the adults for the sake of the story lol

and yeah. the fic is like, the very beginning of the apocalypse and then i’m hopefully planning to have little spin off fics about them just surviving because isn’t that the best part about a good zombie story? a found family just trying to move on with their lives ;__; but also on the subject of zombies, obviously i don’t wanna like totally rip of tlou by having clickers and stuff. but these aren’t twd zombies that shuffle along. they’re tlou zombies they’re fast as hell and scary as fuck so writing that escape scene is gonna be real hard but hopefully worth it if i can fully translate all the terror and energy from my head onto the page :)

i dunno if anyone would ever be interested into a fic like this. maybe not, maybe it’s just a fic i wanna read and if so? so be it ! im fine with that :) i’ll still post it, and frankly im really excited to get it written, it’s just writing it that’s the hard part lol

so THANK YOU friend for indulging me in my silly little fic ideas. it was fun to just ramble on about it, and who knows, maybe someone might see this post and actually be interested in such an idea. so yeah! thanks again for the ask :) it’s super appreciated:)

[spookycrazyhatboxghost]

Possum brain went hey you did pining yesterday how about some retribution?? Ehh? I don’t know if this is rp compliant but this is just for funsies

The training room mats weren’t the worst; Xók had definitely gotten into scrapes on worse. Still after letting him get a few good hits Calam seemed to enjoy picking him up and slamming him down just because he could.

Xók was trying to get his breathing under control but he was still recovering from getting the wind knocked out of him:

He managed to gasp

“Show off—!”

The dark T visor looming nearby revealed nothing except a slight head-tilt that could have meant anything from smugness to teasing challenge.

Xók attempted to shift back and the sudden grip around his ankle stopped the movement.

Heart in his throat—tries signing TIME OUT with his hands in a T over his chest but they shook too much.

The dark haired man reached up and ripped off his Buy'ce in a panic.

He probably looked a mess at that point; brown eyes unfocused; face red from exertion, hair disheveled—when Xók opened his mouth it sounded too close to pleading.

{Ti—time out}

Xók felt the grip at his ankle squeeze — any harder and he’d definitely feel his pulse through the layers. It stopped and then softened before moving away and he brought the palm out to offer assistance.

He took the hand and was pulled forward ; Xók rested his forhead on his bent knee and breathed for a few minutes.

He felt Calam place his hands over his paularens; slowly let his shoulders relax at the pressure; The Mando’s covered fingers tapping once and then again nine times —he’d be back in ten minutes . Xók nodded in understanding.

Eyes flinty; arms braced on his knees Xók looks around the room as he leaves; fingers playing idly with the vibroblade sheathed in his boot; defenses back up.

Unscrewing the top on his water bottle he pauses: sniffs as it smells different then when he’d filled it a few hours ago—looks around again to the empty room as he lowers it.

He feels eyes on him; not just his paranoia but /truly/

Things had been good— too good.

So it really shouldn’t have shocked Xók that as the bolt of warning rockets up and down his spine; he smells seawater before he hears Khal speak.

“Finally—I thought he’d never leave … Hello Xókore— aren’t you happy to see me? I’ve missed you—“

The peace he’s slowly hoarded from these sparring sessions evaporated so so quickly.

/His old name/

Prepared this time Xók turns and whatever Khal was expecting be it happiness—fear or anger; it wasn’t the neutral expression on his face. Xók had spent days and weeks suffocated by fear but this was just a man—an overconfident man who can bleed—who can die.

Still his green eyes look him over and it feels so much like a physical touch that Xók can’t help lashing out.

{You really are as stupid as you are tall…. What—did I say would happen if you came near me again?Hmm? Worm?}

Xók forced the edge of the small blade up against the apple of Khal’s throat; his previously smug expression flickers as the noise of the vibro-blade hummed louder.

The pressure moved him away from towering over Xók directly.

So the dark haired man stood without giving the other his back. Green eyes flickered down to the water bottle still in hIs other hand and then back up to his face.

“I’ve seen you training so hard recently…it’s good to stay hydrated yeah?”

Disgust rolls through his gut at the thought khal has just been /waiting/ and— /watching./

But more so the comment struck him as odd—/why the fuck would Khal care if he drank—/

Xók narrows his eyes and shakes the bottle closer to his face.

“Why so invested?—Would you like some Khal?”

Xók had to fight the visceral need to gag as he watched the man’s eyes flutter for a second when he’d said his name before remembering himself and shaking his head .

“No it’s yours you have it—”

—flinching when the movement got him nicked and the zing of burnt copper drifted.

When Khal meets his eyes again there’s an earnest zeal in the way he speaks and the way he’s looking at Xók.

“They’ve been keeping us apart— Kode thinks he knows best—stickler for rules but I knew if I could just get you alone you would —”

Xók reacts without thought and cracks Khal across the face with the sealed durasteel bottle.

The taller man goes down and when he tries to blindly grab at Xók— he unscrews the bottle and splashes some on him- on his boots— it gets on the floor.

Khal scrambles

away from it ;and as he watched the man’s movements are getting jerky —uncoordinated.

Xók follows him at a more relaxed pace.

The rage seeming to make his mind clearer then it’s been in weeks.

He leans down and Khal is momentarily entranced by his closeness ; he doesn’t react right away when he pulls a slightly longer blade from a thigh pocket and touches it just barely to the seem of Khal’s pants.

“Now—wait a minute I thought you were bluffing—Xokore please—”

Xók speaks slowly the pleasent tone getting jagged flowing from a Basic to Mando’a as the rage finally found a proper outlet.

”I’m a softy… I can forgive a lot but that is not my name and if I hear it from your mouth again I might just cut out your tongue as well as your balls… I’ll ask you this as simply as I can —{What did you put in my water? Because the only thing you seem to be moving is your head}

Khal’s dissolves into whining — and then.

The smell of piss makes his nose wrinkle on a good day—sizzling piss is a new hell.

Xok wishes he’d kept his Buy'ce on; looking back for it he sees Calam standing watch ; carrying it gently in his hands.Xók has no time to analyze what feeling bubbles up.

—Khal brings the attention back to himself when he finally speaks clearly.

“I love you — it was just so you couldn’t run away— I swear I’d never—I’d never hurt you Xókore—”

His declaration ends in a scream as Xók drives the blade into the meat of his shoulder and into the wall behind—effectively pinning him there as the pained wail slowly ebbed.

Xók hears himself whisper:

{You are —unworthy—}

And like a trance had been lifted at the sight of what he’d done; Xók fell back— stepping carefully until suddenly Calam was there at his back. He had clipped Xók’s helmet to his own belt so he could hold the shorter man’s shoulders to steady him. The water bottle was still in his hand so he clipped the evidence to his own belt.

Warm fingers softly grabbed his wrist and tapped it; Xók nodded and pressed his Comm and hailed Kode.

{Guard Dal-zo— this better be an emergency—}

He stared across at the now unconscious man sprawled out agaisnt the wall; blood pulsing bright against his pale tangerine colored armor. He looked like rotten fruit..

{Khal has attempted to drug me Commander; I hope that is emergency enough — he is alive as of right now— we are in training room W7}

Xók was surprised his voice was so steady; maybe he was too exhausted. To Not register when Kode had cursed and started barking orders at him or maybe to someone in the room with him.

Xók wasn’t sure what he looked like or what possessed him to lean back— look up at his silent friend and ask;

“Do you think I should stay and see this through or should I do the same thing as last time and go home to lick my wounds?”

Calam moved his hands slowly

^Are you injured?^

Xók shook his head; then he thinks.

“Well —nothing Bacta can help with—Where-” Xók feels himself sag a little more against the man.

He starts again; dark brows pinched slightly.

“Where did everyone go?”

Xók hated the lost cast to his question.

Haltingly Calam signed.

^When we finished . The place was empty—I didn’t see him —I am s—^

Xók turned and grabbed his hands shaking his head.

{Thank you for —staying}

Xók wasn’t sure what he meant exactly but Calam squeezed back.

The shorter man looked around and pulled them to a bench; as standing for much longer would result in him passing out .

When Calam sits; Xók fallows, resting stiffly dispite the overweening need to shut his eyes.

Calam gestures to the future corpse; hand movements slow.

^They are taking their sweet time— he will die ^

Xók’s voice is rough.{I hope he does—}

Calam offers him his water bottle and he takes it after a moment of hesitation; tipping his head back and pouring rather then putting his spit all over the spout. Xók can feel him looking long after he’s handed it back and he doesn’t know why.

Ten minuets turned to twenty—twenty five; the pool of blood is excessive.

Kode steps through the door and stops at the sight of them. Then slowly more file in and pause for a second before the med team breaks into action.

The futile effort ends in blood spread boot prints tracked all over the floor.

Unclipping the bottle Xók grins at him, waving him over; not currently caring the picture they make, him blood speckled and tired sitting next to his silent friend.

{Commander— he put something in my water bottle— by the way he was after I splashed him with it I would guess a mild paralidIc—I’m not an expert though}

FIN?? Mostly cause I’m sleepy also but I’d like Calam to meet Syril that’s the true test of character idk

[dameronology]

the one with all the yelling {obi-wan x reader}

summary: after making a stupid decision in battle and having an argument with your best friend, a confession slips out that surprises both of you (or maybe it doesn’t)

this is a reupload bc i took it down for editing. as usual, this has lots of swearing in, just a pre-warning. enjoy!!

- jazz

They say that time slows down when you’re about to die - that your life flashes before your very eyes. You’re supposed to see the thing you love most, the people you value most. It was meant to be a final moment filled with a lifetime of emotions, of memories; regrets and mistakes; unfulfilled wishes and incomplete to do lists. The way it was described was hauntingly poetic, the sort of thing almost made you want to to experience it just so that you could understand what it felt like.

And, having witnessed a near-death experience in recent hours, you could safely conclude that everything in the aforementioned paragraph was a steaming pile of horse shit.

There was nothing graceful or cinematic about the way you had yeeted yourself across the battle-field, mud unceremoniously flying up around your ass as you kicked Obi-Wan Kenobi out of the line of fire. The blaster fire was inches away from your face - mere inches - and that, of all things, was when you figured the final moments might have come.

Instead, all you got was a hit to the shoulder and a mouth full of dirt. You were very much alive - but after coughing up an unflattering amount of earth and clambering back to your feet with all the grace of a beached whale, the same could not be said for your dignity.

At the forefront of things, you’d been trying to save your best friend’s life. That was all you could think about when you’d launched yourself discourteously towards Obi-Wan; he couldn’t die. Too many people - yourself included - needed him. And, you were certain that if you hadn’t been killed saving his ass, the sudden lack of reason from his presence in your life would have killed you anyways. The man stopped you from walking into traffic on the daily.

You weren’t entirely sure what to say to Obi-Wan. You were sitting on the end of his bed, fresh out of the shower and bundled up in an oversized tunic that belonged to the man pacing in front of you. For a man of many words, he was disturbingly quiet as he stitched you up and even more so when he helped you undress and get into the shower.

What sort of thing were you supposed to say in this situation? Sorry that I booted you up the arse and sent you flying six foot through the air? I had your best interests at heart, I promise.

‘Personally, I am rather pleased with the fact I am still alive.’ You broke the icy silence that had befallen you. Obi-Wan immediately stopped in his pacing tracks, head turning to face you with a bewildered look. Maybe that wasn’t the best conversation opener.

‘How could you…’ Obi-Wan went to say something but his words were lost. He’d witnessed you do a lot of stupid things but this one took the cake. This was stupid thing to end all stupid things. ‘Why would you - actually, I don’t even know what to say.’

‘I mean a thank you would probably suffice.’ You muttered. ‘I did just take a bullet for you.’

‘How could you have been so stupid?!’ He snapped. ‘You could have died!’

‘I was trying to save you!’ You reminded him.

Right. There was that - the alarmingly obvious thing that he’d been trying not to think about.

Obi-Wan couldn’t deny his feelings for you; you’d always been his slightly kooky best friend but maker, he adored you. Life as a Jedi could be dark but you were his nightlight - a soft glow to guide him to brighter things, to remind him that not all was lost.

He’d spent hours convincing himself that you didn’t feel the same. You were too busy running around with what Obi-Wan was certain was a singular brain cell, getting yourself into trouble and making questionable decisions. But, now that you’d quite literally thrown yourself into the line of fire for him? It was certainly a compelling piece of evidence to the contrary.

(Of course, you loved him too. You’d been in love with him since the day you’d met. That was a minor detail you’d chosen not to mention to him - avoiding the truth wasn’t the same as lying, right?)

‘I don’t need saving.’ Obi-Wan said.

‘Oh, please.’ You snorted. ‘You might be Jedi Master Kenobi of the High Jedi Council, Best Jedi To Ever Jedi and Regular Shagger of the Jedi Code-’

‘- you used the word Jedi a few too many times there-’

‘- but you are not bulletproof!’

‘Neither are you!’

‘But I’m alive, aren’t I?’ Your tone was suddenly soft. ‘I’m in one piece.’

‘Barely.’ He murmured. ‘You can’t do things like that.’

‘Well, I did.’ You would have raised your voice louder had your shoulder not been screaming in pain. ‘And stomping around like a pissy toddler isn’t going to change it.’

The most terrifying part - for both of you, truthfully speaking - was how quickly you had done it. You hadn’t even thought about it; you saw red and you launched yourself into the blaster’s path without even considering the consequences. The most important thing to you in that moment had been that Obi-Wan’s life was at risk and it had led to a sudden disregard for your own.

‘I’ll get better.’ You continued. ‘I’m only signed off for a few weeks and as soon as I’m on the mend I will be back in the field. It’ll be like nothing ever happened-’

‘- but it did happen.’ Obi-Wan cut you off. ‘I’m always going to remember that you risked your life for me without even having to think about it.’

Grabbing onto the poster of his bed, you pulled yourself up and slowly approached him. Obi-Wan almost backed away when his robe inched off your shoulders, revealing the nasty red gash just by your collarbone. The idea quickly slipped away, however, when you rested your hands on his forearms, hands slipping under his sleeves and intertwining your fingers.

‘What else would I do?’ You softly laughed. ‘It’s you, Obi.’

‘Would you have done the same for someone else?’ He asked. ‘For Anakin? Or for Ahsoka?’

You faltered slightly, grip on him loosening a tiny bit. ‘Of course.’

‘Y/N.’

‘What?’

‘Don’t lie.’ He suddenly jerked his hands away from you, spinning around on his heel so that you were suddenly facing his back.

‘Fine.’ You grumbled. ‘I would only do it for you. I would only blindly throw myself in front of a bullet for you. Not anyone else. Not a single soul. Does that make you happy? Does that inflate your ego enough, Kenobi-’

‘- that’s not what this is about.’

‘Then tell me!’ You let out a small groan of pain as you grabbed him by the material of his shirt, using every last ounce of energy to make him look at you again. ‘Tell me what it’s about because you are not making sense and I am the world’s leading expert in that field.’

‘It’s not about anything.’

‘Oh, bullshit!’ You whacked his arm, adrenaline worming its way into your tired body and finally allowing you to raise your voice. ‘I just saved your fucking life and you’re acting like a moody son of a bitch and accusing me of lying!’

‘It’s because I love you!’

‘Well, I love you too!’

‘Great!’

‘Fine!’

‘Wonderful!’

‘Brilliant!’

‘Well I’m glad we cleared that up!’

‘Me too!’

‘We should probably stop shouting!’

‘Good idea!’

You unballed your fists just in time to catch the material of Obi-Wan’s shirt as he stepped towards you, taking you by the waist and pulling you towards him. He crashed his lips into yours, knocking the air from your lungs as he did. You’d thought about kissing him many times - more than you were willing to admit, actually - but now that you were actually here, with a handle tangled in his soft hair and his warm lips moving against yours?

Nothing could have prepared you for this moment - for the declaration of love or the kiss or the way he was holding onto you, hands desperately gripping to your waist as though you were about to slip away into the darkness of the galaxy and leave him alone forever. Just a few hours ago, that had been a very real possibility.

You’d admitted to yourself earlier that you probably couldn’t have survived in a world without Obi-Wan Kenobi. Little did you know that he’d admitted to himself years before that he couldn’t have survived without you.

‘I love you.’ His words were softer now, barely a whisper against your lips as pressed his forehead to yours.

‘If I’d known that almost dying was all it took to make you tell me, I would have done it years-’

‘-Y/N.’ He groaned.

‘Sorry.’ You smiled softly. ‘I love you too.’

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Part Five. "You guys gossip about boys without me?"

warnings: swearing, mentions of emotional abusive/manipulation word count: 3.2k (not including pictures)

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

.

Y/n dropped her phone on the bed and slowly rolled off and onto the ground with a soft THUD. She grunted, falling harder than she expected but the dull pain now present in her right shoulder felt deserved somehow. Why did she think she deserved it? Maybe because she was an unconfrontational worm even when the person needed to be confronted because he hurt her more than anyone ever had.

She closed her eyes and wiggled to get comfortable on the thin carpet in her room. Laying on the ground was relaxing to her, forcing her gamer back to straighten to how it was intended. It helped her think, being on the floor. She didn't know why but she didn't question it. Just laid on the floor in acceptance with the dirt and forgotten candy wrappers.

Why didn't she want to respond to Peter? Well, years of being with him and even the months of not being with him had taught her that her ex liked to get his way and liked to take his anger out in her verbally when he didn't.

You could say she's heard some terrible things over very simple inconveniences.

Y/n slowly pattered to her desk and slid on her headphones, finding the discord server Dream said he and George were on. It was a server that a lot of their friends were in, one that Y/n hardly went in since she still hadn't met a lot of them and wasn't super comfortable with talking in it yet.

She scrolled through the various text chats, one for boredom, one for stream questions, one for memes, one for pictures of pets, one for.... discussing the inevitable takeover of rats...? Y/n wasn't sure what that was about but she knew she didn't want to find out. The list went on. She was pretty sure they had made a channel for every possible message someone could ever send.

There were equally as many voice channels, most of them titled with the names of different games for when they only played with each other and didn't stream. Some of them were just random names and she noticed there was one to match the rat takeover text channel. Okay, who was responsible for that?

After what felt like an entire scavenger hunt and with many new questions in her mind, Y/n finally found the voice channel Dream and George were in and clicked on it. It was called memerz-only.

"I'm not a memer, am I allowed in here?" she asked. She hadn't realized how messed up her voice was since she hadn't talked all day.

"Holy shit, Bug, you sound awful."

She scoffed a laugh. "Thanks, Dream. Really means a lot." She did sound pretty scuffed. Her voice was a little scratchy from not talking literally all day.

"You doing okay, Bugsy?" George asked kindly, to which she hummed.

“I just have one quick question...”

“Mhm?”

“This is simple, please don’t elaborate further. There’s a channel on this server... did you guys mean rat as in BadBoyHalo’s dog or rats as in rats?”

Neither of them spoke for a minute before George understood what she was referring to. “Oh! Rats as in rats.”

“Okay, thank you.” 

“Yeah, Quackity—“

“No!” she interupted. “No! I said I don’t wanna know. I really don’t. I’m too afraid to understand.”

“Wha- HA, okay.”

“Good choice, Bugsy. I wish I didn’t know what it’s about. It’s a lot weirder than you’d think.”

“Now that that’s settled,” Dream said with a laugh. “How are you doing, Bug?”

"Neither of you are streaming, right?" she asked, doubling checking the twitch app on her phone to be sure.

"No."

"So I don't have to pretend to be happy and bubbly?"

"No, you can be as mundane as you'd like," Dream said. "We don't mind."

"Yeah, honestly, most of the time when Dream and I are on calls alone it's just us being super boring and hardly talking."

"That's..." she paused to find the right words and decided with, "actually really cute. You guys just enjoy each other's presence."

George scoffed and Dream giggled. "See, even Bug says we're cute, Georgie! Why can you tell me you love me?"

"I'll leave right now if you don't stop," George threatened. "Can we go back to how Bugsy's miserable?"

"I'm not miserable, I just..." she hesitated. She had already told George about why she was having a bad day, but Dream?

She didn't want to tell Karl because she knew he would yell at her. She didn't want to tell Sapnap because she didn't trust him not to tell everyone (on accident, of course). For some reason, it was a different kind of hesitation than with the others that made her not want to tell Dream. She didn't want to tell him because she didn't want to be... embarrassed? Maybe that was it. She thought it would be embarrassing to tell Dream about how her ex-boyfriend treated her like shit and how now he wants to get back together with her. Plus, she knew how everyone else individually would react but Dream was a complete mystery. Maybe he'd yell at her too and say she's stupid for being affected by an ex. Maybe he'd break down crying for some reason? Who knows?

"You don't have to tell us," Dream stated. "Seriously."

"It's embarrassing," she said, tucking her feet beneath her on her seat. As she said the words, she decided they felt right. She was embarrassed. "But George already knows."

Above everyone else, Y/n was okay with telling George about her situation because he and her tended to talk about their troublesome relationships quite often. He always came to her for advice and she to him. They were very similar in their ways of thinking and seemed to have lots of similar dating stories, even if neither of them knew what the hell they were doing. She knew he'd never judge her for thinking unclearly since he tended to do the same.

George hummed, not knowing what to say since she hadn't said much. She could tell he didn't wanna say something that might make Dream more nosey and start hounding her about telling him.

"What hap—never mind. Not my business," Dream said quickly.

"No, I mean, I kinda wanted to talk to George about it again anyway so I guess you can join in on the gossip." Guess my mouth decided for me on this one, she thought.

"Wait, what? You guys gossip about boys without me?"

"Oh my gosh, don't say it like that, Dream," George groaned. "Bugsy and I talk about relationship problems a lot, yes. Not just boys."

"How did I not know this?"

"Because you don't know a lot of things?"

"It's normally George sending screenshots of text conversations with girls and asking me how to let them down gently," Y/n explained with a giggle.

"Or Y/n talking about her asshole ex."

"George! What do you and Karl not get about not calling him names?"

"I'm so lost," Dream mumbled.

Y/n sighed. "Okay, well," she cut herself off with a groan. "It's so embarrassing. Basically, my ex asked me to 'chat' this morning which is code for he wants to get back together—"

"Do you know that for sure?" Dream asked.

"Yeah, we already decided that," George snapped. "Let her finish."

"Sorry."

"So he wants to get back together and I feel stupid for wanting to listen to what he has to say."

"How is that embarrassing?"

"Because he hurt me and I feel like an idiot because him even suggesting that means he doesn't realize how badly he hurt me. It makes me feel like, I don't know, like all the time I spent being upset was for nothing," Y/n explained in a soft voice. "And because his simple, like, five word text made me freak out all day to the point of exhaustion."

"I don't think you should be embarrassed, Bugsy," George offered.

"Have either of you, uh, have you ever considered dating an ex?"

"Didn't you just say he hurt you badly?" Dream asked. "You aren't thinking of getting back with him, are you?"

"No... but I want to stay friends so maybe I should hear him out?"

"Well, I've never gotten back with an ex," he said bluntly. "But to be fair, all my relationships have ended badly or for bad reasons so I've never wanted to see any of them again. Staying friends depends on why you and he broke up, I guess, but..."

"Um, how do I put this..." she trailed off. "He was mean to me."

"Then no? Simple."

"But I've forgiven him and I think he's changed."

"People don't change that easily. Didn't you break up like, a few months ago?" George asked.

"Yeah, but—"

"Honestly I think if a guy was ever mean to you he doesn't deserve any more of your attention," Dream decided. "So, no. Don't even be his friend. Don't listen to a single thing he has to say."

"That's what I told her," George agreed.

"If that were the case, you guys shouldn't be friends," she argued. "You're mean to each other all the time."

"But we know it's a joke," George defended.

"So you're saying if someone is ever purposefully mean to you just once, you drop them forever?"

"Well, no," Dream said. "Not exactly. But it sounds like he was super mean to you since it's why you broke up."

She took a deep breath. She didn't want to go into detail. She was already uncomfortable enough talking about her personal life so much, but she trusted both of them and needed to get it off her chest and they were there and willing to listen. They had already established wanting to listen to her if she wanted to speak and right now, she wanted to speak. Maybe not the full story, but at least some. "He, um, well, the mean things he said, he said because he was trying to get me to see what he thought was the truth about myself."

Both of them were silent for a few moments. "I'm still confused," George admitted.

"Me too... But you don't have to tell us." Dream explained again. She thought it was sweet that they kept reassuring her that.

"I know, but I want to. If it's not too much for you guys..."

"No, go ahead, if you want."

"Uh, he lowkey emotionally manipulated me by telling me I wasn't good enough for anyone and stuff and how he was the only one who could ever love me. The second part he said truly believing that he was being romantic. There are a lot worse and specific things engraved in my brain but that's the gist of what he would tell me. He made me believe that I could never leave him because I could never be loved by anyone else. But he said it all in a way that... he thought he was just... letting me in on something no one else had the guts to tell me."

George gasped. "What?! Bugsy, I'm so sorry, I didn't know it was like that."

"Woah, what the hell? No. Absolutely not. Don't give this guy a second thought. Cut him off for good," Dream said sternly, angry that anyone would say that to anyone, especially to someone like Y/n. "Wait, so, you broke up with him?"

"Yeah. After Karl yelled at me a lot and explained his outside point of view, I finally realized Peter was gaslighting me and emotionally abusing me and stuff so I dumped him. I guess right now I'm just upset by it because I thought we were past this and I was healing and him reaching out affected me again. I'm just emotionally exhausted. Like I said, it hurts to know that he doesn't realize what he did to me."

"I'm really sorry, Bug," Dream said softly. "Gimme his address and I'll punch him for you."

She laughed through her nose. "That's okay. Thanks."

"Yeah, she can go set his house on fire if she wants. She's proven that already."

"Shut up, George," she said with a small laugh.

"Wh......at?" Dream stuttered and George briefly explained.

"Well, Bug, just so you know, in case you weren't aware, you're really cool and sweet and funny and we really like having you around–" Dream started.

"Oh, ugh, no don't do this," she tried to joke but he ignored her as he continued his speech.

"–and you're way too good to be hanging out with either of us, and whatever that asshole was showing you wasn't love. 'No one could love you like he did' because what he was doing was not love, it was abuse." Dream's voice had a certain gentleness to it as he spoke that comforted Y/n and made her believe him. He was blunt but it didn't stab her in the heart like it should have.

If Y/n ever cried, she might have just then from how sweet they were both being. But she didn't because that wasn't something she did. She never cried over anything Peter said, never cried during movies, and didn't cry then. But she did smile very fondly at the Discord screen in front of her.

"Thank you, Dream."

"You know I'm not good with words, but, yeah, what Dream said," George said. "I'm sorry you had to go through that thinking it was normal. Please, please, do not get back together with him and please don't be friends with him."

"He's fine as a friend though."

"Bug. Whether he's fine as a friend doesn't matter, he doesn't deserve to have you as a friend. He treated you like shit, it's okay to be a little cold to him."

She sighed. They were right. "Okay." There was a long pause before, "thanks, guys. Sorry for coming in here and dumping my problems on you—"

"Don't be sorry," George said. "We're the ones that asked you to come in and share. We knew what we signed up for and don't regret it."

"Seriously, Bug, we care about you. You're allowed to, you know, talk about yourself." How did he know that's what she meant by that sentence? The way he could read her mind was heart-warming.

"Also, George knows this but Dream, there's a strict no-telling policy about this kinda thing. Please don't tell anyone."

"I wouldn't even think of it," he promised. "My lips are sealed."

"Good."

A soft animal noise came from one of their mics and Y/n strained her ears to listen. "Was that a cat?"

"Patches has entered the chat," George joked.

Dream chuckled. "Yeah, my cat just jumped on my lap."

"Aw, you have a cat? Lemme see lemme see lemme see!" Y/n begged. "Partly because I would love if we could stop talking about my ex-boyfriend and the other part because I love cats."

"There's pictures of her in the pets channel on Discord—"

"No, no I want a picture of her on your lap. Is she all snuggled up?"

"Yeah, she is."

"PleASE, Dream. I need to see the snuggly cat."

"Fine, fine, if you insist. Give me a second."

A few moments later, she got a DM from Dream and smiled at the picture. His room was dark but the computer screen cast a cold glow over a ball of fur on a lap clad in sweatpants. "Awww, she's so cute."

"Dream, I wanna see it too," George whined. "Send it to the pets channel."

"I'm literally making this my lock screen," Y/n informed, making Dream laugh.

"No, George, it's only for Bug. She's had a bad day so she gets exclusive Patches content."

"What? That is so messed up."

"You know what's messed up, George?" Dream asked. "You never come to me with advice on how to reject girls. We're on the phone for 12 hours a day but you can't talk to me about girls? Do you know how that makes me feel?"

"You'll just make fun of me."

"Why would I? What makes you think that?"

"Because Sapnap and I make fun of you? So obviously you and him would make fun of me?" George said with a laugh.

"....that's fair."

Y/n locked her phone and clicked the home button to admire her new lock screen. "I love her," she whispered.

Dream and George both laughed. "I'm regretting sending you that. You're gonna, like, make a shrine or something."

"What would be wrong with that? She's precious. She deserves a shrine."

"Yeah, Dream, you're the one that feeds her gormet cooked food," George teased with a laugh. "You probably have a shrine."

"That's normal! That's what people feed their cats! That's completely normal!"

"I don't," George countered.

"Then what do you feed your cat?" Dream asked.

"I dunno, normal cat food?"

"Wait! You have a cat too??" Y/n asked. "I feel like we're missing a huge detail and it's that George never told me he had a cat."

"And a dog."

"WHAT? GEORGE! Send me pictures!!!!!"

"I can't right now, it's like three am. They're sleeping. Look in the pets channel."

"You're the worst," she grumbled, clicking and scrolling to find his pets. She saw a lot of cute pictures of other peoples pets along the way but couldn't find George's.

"Hey, do your animals have English accents?" Dream asked, making Y/n laugh.

"What?" George scoffed. "You're so stupid."

"How would that even sound?" Y/n asked.

"Like..." Dream thought, preparing to test out how it would hypothetically sound. "Meow," Dream meowed in his best accent, failing miserable.

"Oh gosh, never do that again," Y/n begged.

Dream laughed into his mic. "That was disgusting. George, I really hope your pets don't have accents."

"They're animals, so probably not. And if they did, it definitely wouldn't sound like whatever that was."

"Oh come on–"

"OH I FOUND THEM." Y/n announced as she found a message from George in the pets channel with the message 'heard we're sharing our pets'. "GEORGE. THEY'RE SO CUTE."

"Are you gonna make them your background picture now?" George asked.

"What, no way! It's Patches!" Dream scoffed.

"Yeah, I'll make George's pets my home screen. Oh, what a good day." As soon as she said it, a metal bowling ball fell to her stomach, reminding her of all the reasons it was, in fact, not a good day.

She got off after a while, feeling the weight of a particular idiot man's stupid simple text catch up with her again. She thanked Dream and George for letting her join, they invited her to always hang out with them, and she went on her way.

Y/n fell on her bed and curled up under the covers as her mind started to wander from Peter to Dream. She was really glad she met him. He was a really good person and he was always so incredibly kind to her. George and Sapnap and Karl were all great friends, so caring and understanding and always looking out for her, but Dream was different and she didn't know why.

Maybe it was because he seemed untouchable still, like he had no reason to hang out around someone like her. But he wasn't untouchable in the celebrity was since he had a large following, because all of her friends did and they didn't seem untouchable. Then what was it? What set him apart from, say, Karl? She trusted Karl with her life and had known him for quite a while. She knew Dream for maybe a few weeks and almost trusted him the same amount.

Why?

She picked her phone up off the bed and pulled up Twitter, deciding to DM Dream since he was already existing in her mind rent-free. Might as well make him pay his rent by bothering him.

*********

PREVIOUS | NEXT

*********

A/N: EEEEEEEE I hope that all made sense lmaaoooo basically yn ex = gaarrbbaaagggeeeee and ruined her self-worth a lot!! not poggers!!!!!!  THANK U GUYS FOR BEING SO SWEET ALL THE TIME ALL FOR ALL THE POSITIVE FEEDBACK ON ALL THE  CHAPTERS!!! I love seeing you guys make predictions and tell me how aljkDFB chapters make you feel bc same :/

taglist: OPEN (at the time) @hydrate-tion @loraleiix @tinaswagbd @charsdummb @smileyyuta @1ghoste1 @cerberus-hellhound @gaysludge @queestionmark @carnations-red @letsloveimagines @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @boiled-onionrings @a-cryptic @fee-btheweeb @letsloveimagines @erwinss @just-a-stan @axths @kayleigh2703 @furiouspockettoad @sometimeseverythingsucks @powerpuffyn​ @itshaileyn @millavalntyne @automaticcomputerpaper @nikkineeky @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @sprucekot @jabby16 @mae-musicbitch @hungoverhellhound @dreamyteam @kuroo-icedtea @stuffforreferences @menacingaesthetic @sapphic-soot @fangeekkk 

[nothinghcppens]

small talk- pietro maximoff

part 1

part 2 here

masterlist

pair: pietro maximoff x female!reader

summary: after being apart of the team of super soldiers that hydra experimented on, y/n was one of the successful experiments and had been released to the world. the winter soldier and the siren had become the most prolific assassin duo in the world. but what happens when they get taken in by the avengers? what happens when she meets a particularly fast superhero with an attitude?

warnings: swearing, slight mentions of trauma

bang. the bullet left your gun and went through the targets skull and his body dropped to the floor with a thud. behind you, your partner barnes did the same, the body hitting the ground.

“go.” he demanded, pushing you forward. you ripped off your mask and turned to face him.

“don’t touch me.” you spat. you bent down and grabbed your knife, twirling it round your hand and placing it in your belt.

“hurry up. we have to report back to hydra.” barnes said, checking the bullets in his gun.

“you don’t tell me what to do.” you barked, sending him a sharp glare.

“shut your fucking mouth.” he seethed.

you went to retaliate but stopped yourself when he raised his finger to his mask, looking around.

“get down!” he called, throwing himself behind the wall. you dropped and rolled behind a metal box, covering your head. two smoke bombs went off next to you, clouding your vision. you peered around the box, seeing barnes stepping out of his hiding place, gun raised. you put your mask back on so that your identity wouldn’t be compromised and stood up. you took your knives out your belt and raised them.

trails of blue flashed in front of your eyes. you furrowed your eyebrows, confused and spin round, slashing your knives through the smoke. you heard barnes grunt and heard his body hit the ground. that was your cue to leave, you were in danger. you broke out in a sprint, preparing yourself to jump off the roof. but those blue trails cut in front of you, knocking you on the floor. you felt a sharp pain in your neck and your eyes began to feel heavy. you tried to kick and push yourself up but it was no use. your vision went blurry and everything kept going in and out of focus. before your eyes completely shut you felt a pair of arms reach under you and pick you up.

“i’ve got her! someone got barnes?” the voice said, it was a man with a thick foreign accent. the world went dark.

your eyes shot open and you tried to sit up but you couldn’t, your arms and legs were bound by some kind of force. your eyes darted around and landed on tow people standing guard. there was a man with light brown hair, his arms were large and crossed over his chest and a younger man with bleach blonde hair and a scruffy beard.

“good morning, sleeping beauty.” there was that accent again, he was the one who took you.

“pietro, enough.” the other man said. “i’m steve rogers.”

“i didn’t ask.” you mumbled. the man you learned to be name pietro let out a noise of surprise.

“you are y/n y/l/n, more commonly known as the siren. you are one of the more dangerous assassins on the planet.” steve said.

“how do you know my name? no one knows my name.” you questioned, trying to free yourself from their restraints.

“we know a lot about you, you and your partner james barnes.” pietro explained. steve stiffened at barnes’ name, does he know him?

“friday, tell stark that she’s awake. i’ll meet him in the lab.” steve announced.

“of course, captain rogers.” a female voice replied from thin air. you looked around confused, where did that come from? he left the room and went to find whoever he’s looking for, leaving you alone with pietro.

“how did you find us? where am i?” you asked.

“you were pretty easy to track down considering the trail of bodies you two leave all over the globe.” he declared. he pulled a chair over and spun it round, straddling it.

“well how come it took you guys this long to find us?” you spat, not liking how much he’s enjoying this, “who even are you?”

“we’re the avengers.” a man announced from the door. he had dark brown hair and a beard, he was wearing a zip up fleece and jeans. stood next to him was the steve that you had met previously, “i’m tony.”

“stark?” you asked, having heard his name throughout the hydra base you were trapped in.

“the one and only.” he said with a bow.

“are you all like that?” you questioned, really not in the mood for their nonsense.

“like what?” steve asked.

“annoying.” you spat.

“she’s feisty. i like her.” pietro stated with a smile.

“yeah. i’m dangerous too.” you commented.

“not when you’re trapped like this you aren’t.” he replied. he stood up from his chair and peered over at you. you struggled against your restaints and tried to get yourself free, but it was still no use. he chuckled condescendingly and you rolled your eyes.

“right, we’ll let you out. but you have to promise not to go all super soldier on us. we stopped you once before, we can do it again.” tony said, stepping forward and pushing pietro away from you. “we’ll explain why you are here and what we want from you.”

you agreed to stay calm as long as they explain what’s going on. they removed the restraints and you practically leapt out of the bed, landing unsteadily on your feet.

“careful there.” pietro muttered, reaching his hand out for you.

“don’t pretend that you care.” you grumbled. a look of hurt flashed in his eyes but was quickly replaced by that sarcastic smirk that never seemed to leave his face. “so, why am i here?”

“come with me and i’ll explain it.” tony said. you looked down at your clothes and saw that you were still in the same clothes from your last mission except your belt was missing along with your jacket and bulletproof vest.

“where’s my belt?”

“confiscated, for obvious reasons.” steve explained. you groaned and pushed your way past the men and out the room, tony following behind you. you stopped quickly, realising that you didn’t know where you were going. he overtook you and you walked behind him.

“welcome to the avengers tower. we brought you here because we know that hydra have experimented on you and barnes and you have been their weapons for the past few years. barnes and steve knew each other during their war days so steve wanted to free him and you, well you just got lucky.” he looked back and saw your angry expression.

“i’m only kidding, you’ll be a good asset to us. we’ve just got to get hydra out your brain. they’ve wormed their way inside you and at any moment you could go all assassin and try to murder us all.”

“they don’t control me.” you stated.

“say what you want, but they do. you won’t realise it but they are using you.” he stopped you and his tone went more serious. “pietro and his sister wanda, they were experimented on by hydra. they got sent out to attack us. we helped them realise hydra’s hold on them.”

“maybe i don’t want your help.” you said, thrusting your head towards him in an attempt to intimidate him. he didn’t flinch.

“i think you do. would you rather go back to being tortured?” he queried.

“i-“ you didn’t know how to respond.

“that’s what i thought, so i suggest you take our help before we change our mind.” he said, turning away and heading up the stairs. you jogged up behind him and followed him as he led you along a hall lined with doors. “welcome to your room, get yourself cleaned up and when you’re ready just ask friday to alert someone and they’ll come and bring you down.”

“who the hell is friday?” you asked.

“friday?” he announced.

“yes mr stark?” that voice from earlier replied.

“this is y/n y/l/n, she’s new here. i’m just introducing you to her. make sure she doesn’t leave her room unless accompanied.” tony said, opening the door.

“no problem, it’s lovely to meet you miss y/l/n.” friday added.

“uh yeah, you too.” you spoke quietly, unsure of who or what you’re talking to.

you stepped into the room and turned round to see tony flash you a small smile before closing the door on you. you let out a sigh and looked around the room. there was a large king sized bed against the right wall, a rug across the centre of the floor. there was a wardrobe and a set of drawers which you pulled open and saw filled with clothes.

“uh friday?” you asked.

“yes miss y/l/n?” the robot lady replied.

“who’s clothes are these?”

“they belong to miss romanoff and miss maximoff, they are for you to borrow until you can purchase your own.”

why would they give you their clothes? they don’t even know you. do they not know who they’re dealing with?

you let out a sigh and turned to the door on the left side of the room and opened it. inside was a bathroom equipped with a large glass shower and a small smile crept onto your face. you stripped yourself of your clothes and ran the water at the highest temperature. you stepped into the shower and felt the hot water run over your body, goosebumps forming on your body at the change of temperature. picking up the coconut scented shampoo, you opened the bottle and took a long inhale of the scent before placing some in your hand and running it through your hair. then doing the same with the conditioner. you then washed your body with the body wash they provided you with, it was amazing. constantly being on the run and in hiding, you never got the opportunity often to take a minute to take care of yourself.

after the shower you brushed your hair and got changed into some sweatpants and a hoodie. you lay down on the bed and closed your eyes for a moment, you didn’t mean to fall asleep but as soon as your head hit those soft pillows you were out like a light.

you were awoken by a soft knock at your door and a voice calling your name, “y/n?” you recognised it to be pietro and you shot up. you glanced around and noticed it was darker outside, it had been a few hours.

“sorry, come in.” you called, your voice a little hoarse from sleep. he opened the door and leaned against the doorframe.

“uh sorry to bother you but tony wanted me to come and make sure you hadn’t escaped or something.” he explained.

“still here.” you stated.

“i see that.” he replied.

“is there something else you need?” you asked. all of a sudden he wasn’t standing at the door, those flashes of blue light whizzed past your eyes and he was next to you on the bed. “speedy, how fun.” you complained.

he chuckled and flopped back on your bed. “make yourself at home i guess.” you said.

“so, hydra huh?”

“careful you might trigger the super solider within me.” you teased. “seriously though, i don’t know what you guys did but i don’t have the urge to complete my missions. i don’t feel like i have to murder anyone in my sight.”

“well that’s always a bonus.” he joked, moving himself up the bed and resting his arms behind his head on the bed frame.

“what was it like for you?” you asked, sitting cross-legged.

“isolated in a case, random injections, training. standard stuff. you?”

“shock therapy. makes me forget who i am.” you explained.

“wow. sounds like fun.” you huffed out a laugh, “what makes you change? how do they control you?”

“they have these books, one for each of us and there’s a sequence of words that like triggers something in each soldier. they just say them and it’s like a switch flips and then i’m ‘ready to command’.”

“sorry to interrupt but i have a message from mr stark.” friday announced, tony’s voice came blasting through, “speedy you had one job. see if i come up and see that the siren has brutally murdered you, i will not be sorry.”

you laughed at tony’s message and looked at pietro who’s expression was the same as yours.

“friday, i have a message for stark. put me through.” he said, “fortunately for you i am still alive, you better watch it before i send her to brutally murder you. we’ll be down soon.”

“he seems nice.” you stated.

“he’s a pain in the ass. wait till you meet clint, he’s even worse.” he joked.

“god, can he be any worse than you?” you questioned, copying his sarcastic smile.

“rude.” he said, getting off the bed, “let’s take you down.”

he took out out of the room and back down the stairs, he stopped at a large set of double doors and turned to look at you giving you a nod. he pushed open the doors and opened his arms wide, “i’m back! and i brought a guest.”

“took you long enough.” tony complained.

“what can i say? we get on like a house on fire, don’t we love?” pietro teased, placing his arm around your shoulder.

“just because i’m not being controlled by hydra, doesn’t mean i won’t kill you.” you growled and shrugged his arm off you.

“you’re right tony, she is feisty.” a man said from the sofa. “hi i’m clint.”

“where’s barnes?” you asked, ignoring him.

“he’s resting, i can take you to him if you want.” a woman with long brown hair suggested. “i’m wanda.” she added as she approached you.

“you’re pietro’s brother. tony told me about you.”

“glad to see my reputation proceeds me.” she chuckled. “come on.”

the walk began quiet until she broke the silence between you two, “i’m glad to see you and pietro are becoming friends.”

“far from friends.” you mumbled.

“he seems to think you are. it’s okay to admit it.” she said.

“nope. not friends.” you stated.

she laughed, “whatever you say. anyway, what’s barnes like? are you two close?”

“honestly, no. we only go on missions together and we don’t exactly get along. i don’t know much about him, i only know his last name. i guess there’s a lot of rivalry, we both want to impress them.” you explained.

“why do you want to see him then?” wanda asked.

“i want to meet him and get to know him when we’re both... free. maybe then we’ll get along.”

wanda pulled open the door and revealed your partner, the winter soldier lying on a bed in the same restraints you had been in this morning. steve sat in a chair next to him, eyes closed and his head on his shoulder.

“why is he still restrained?” you asked wanda.

“well, hydra seemed to have had more of an effect on him than you. he has been under their control for a lot longer than you have, so it’s taking him a while to come to terms with everything.” she explained.

you nodded your head in approval. wanda approached steve and nudged him awake, he blinked rapidly and looked around before meeting her gaze. “go get some rest, we’ll watch him.”

he nodded slowly and yawned before slipping out the room, leaving you two alone with the sleeping super soldier.

“i’ve never seen him this peaceful.” you mumbled, sitting down on the chair that steve left empty.

“where’s steve?” he grumbled, stirring awake.

“he’s away to get some rest, you’ve got us for now.” wanda said.

“siren?” he asked, now noticing your presence.

“yeah let’s drop that, call me y/n.” you insisted.

“how are you out? why am i still tied up?” he questioned.

a massive grin spread across your face, “you, my friend, are even more mentally unstable than i am. because hydra had you for like, what? 500 years? and they only had me for 8.”

“i am not 500 years old.” he spat.

“you certainly look it.” you muttered.

“what was that?” he asked.

“i’m kidding!” you chuckled, “it’s good to see you barnes.”

“bucky.” he said. a smile grew on your face.

“bucky.” you repeated.

———

a month or so passed and you had began to train with the rest of the team, you took it easy because they didn’t want to risk you somehow freaking out and trying to kill them all. during the month you had spent many hours in the lab with tony, running tests on you and making sure you were 100% safe to be around. he is still wary of you, so you aren’t allowed on out missions just yet, but, even if you were you wouldn’t go with them, just in case.

occasionally however, they let you join in for a few hours of training and you really enjoyed it. as much as you hated hydra and everything they put you through, you loved training and fighting, it was your nature. training was your release, it was your opportunity to take out your anger against the world. every punch was a way of pushing out every negative emotion pent up within you.

grunts left your mouth as you punched the punching back hanging in front of you and sweat dripped from your forehead. you then stopped and picked up a staff and moved to the dummy across the room. you took your stance and began to hit the dummy, changing techniques every so often. you felt a rush of wind behind you and stopped before turning around and sticking out the staff. pietro stopped on the left side of the stick, his sarcastic smile present on his face.

“remind me not to get on your bad side.” he stated, pushing the staff away from his face.

you rolled your eyes and turned round, “carry on with that attitude and next time i won’t hesitate to hit you.”

“well i’ve caught you once before, what makes you think i can’t do it again.”

“you caught me off guard. it doesn’t count.” you said, going back to your training.

“don’t be a sore loser, i did it for your own good.” he replied as he sped around and stood behind the dummy.

you looked up at your teammate, seeing his stupid smirk. deciding to make training even more enjoyable, instead of hitting the dummy in your next swing, you swung at pietro. he moved his head out the way and the stick missed him.

“what was that for?” he asked, a shocked smile spread on his face.

“you got on my bad side.” you replied, glaring up at him.

he grabbed the staff and thrusted it towards you, aiming for your stomach. you dropped and rolled out the way, and pushed yourself up, landing on your feet.

“just because i can’t tavel at the speed of sound, doesn’t mean i’m not fast.” you teased.

“him, we’ll see about that.” pietro said. all of a sudden he was gone, those trails of blue light following behind him. he stopped behind you, staff across your throat. his head rested at your right shoulder and you could hear his light breathing in your ear.

“okay fine. you win.” you stated, but before he let you go you grabbed hold of the stick and bent forward, flipping him over your head. he landed on the mat hard and you dropped on top of him, straddling his chest. you placed the staff across his throat and held it there with a sly smirk on your face.

“what? didn’t see that coming?” you questioned.

“impressive.” he said as you stood up and grabbed his arm, pulling him up with you.

you unwrapped the protective bandages from your hands and threw on a zip up hoodie over the sports bra you were wearing.

“want to order pizza?” pietro asked.

“no.” you replied.

“oh come on! it’ll be fun.” he said, leaning against the dummy.

“nope.”

“please.” he begged.

you glared up at him while tying your shoes. “fine.”

[nejibaby]

Memories

Pairing: Neji x Fem!Uchiha Reader

Summary: There are a lot of terrible things that have happened to you as an Uchiha that you wanted to forget. But with Neji’s help, you’re able to move on and move along. Things have started getting better for you, however, once the Fourth Shinobi War was declared, time seemed to start running out.

Word Count: 2.1k

Memories - Part 1 | Deja Vu - Part 2

A/N: I didn’t exactly follow the plot and somehow it turned so angsty 🙈 Please let me know your thoughts~

There are memories you hold so dear that you refuse to have them tainted no matter what. Most of those memories are of the times you spent playing or training with your brother Shishui, his best friend Itachi, and Itachi’s brother Sasuke. Those times were the golden days for you; the best of the best, if you may.

Conversely, there are also memories that you just wish would disappear. They’re the memories of incidents you wish didn’t happen at all. They’re the type of memories that you push at the back of your mind, because you believe that if you think about it or even spare a single second for it, then it’ll be more real. Because you’re in denial. You’re in denial not only about the death of Shisui, but also of the Uchiha clan.

But then there’s a single memory you have that always stands out. It’s a memory that you both want to forget and remember.

The tragedy of the Uchiha clan had changed the only survivors — you and Sasuke. You had already started changing a little because you had to deal with your brother’s death, but seeing the horrible scene in the clan’s district had been the icing on top.

Your drastic change had been evident on the day you came back to the Academy after you were discharged at the hospital. What once was a girl full of life had become an empty shell.

The moment you sat down entered the room, people had started talking. Mostly it’s just about asking someone else if you were an Uchiha or if they know about the clan’s misfortune. They were meaningless chatters so you easily drowned them out.

But there was a comment that had reached your ears. “Why is it such a big deal? People die anyway, it just so happened her clan died on the same day.”

The comment kept ringing inside your head but then someone beside you spoke up, “Don’t you have anything else better to do than talk about someone else’s life?”

He was met with silence so he continued saying, “People die everyday, it’s a fact. Some die because of illnesses, some because of old age, some because of poverty, accidents, or murder. As shinobi, we can die in the line of duty. But that doesn’t make death any less painful to the one left behind.

“If your family is alive, then good, but maybe use that brain of yours because logic says not everyone gets to be as lucky as you.”

Naturally, you want to forget about the unsolicited comment of your classmate, but you want to remember that among the students inside the room, one boy had stood up for you. Quite frankly, you needed his saving that day. Otherwise, you would’ve beaten yourself up for mourning too long.

And when you realized who that boy was, his words weighed even more. Because Hyuga Neji was a boy notoriously known for thinking that everyone’s fate is predetermined from birth and that luck plays absolutely no part in it.

“Not everyone gets to be as lucky as you.”

And for a hot minute he had abandoned his belief as he stood up for you.

It sounds hypocritical if you think about it.

But maybe just as he had saved you, you had opened his eyes just a little bit and helped him see that his beliefs were skewed too. In a way, you had helped each other, at least you hoped.

It’s because of that day, that memory, that you find yourself gravitating towards Neji.

It isn’t attraction at all at first, more like genuine curiosity about him and his life. But you didn’t get to know him further until the Chunin exams where he had disclosed the way of their clan. It’s at that time where you understood why he acts the way he acts.

You can’t help but wonder about how two clans with almost similar circumstances— both with kekkei genkai, both living in Konoha, both considered to be one of the strongest clans in the shinobi world— could have completely different ways of living. One clan is almost completely annihilated, while the other has slaves of their own blood. And if you’re being completely honest, you aren’t exactly sure which is better.

You have gotten the urge to talk to him after hearing his story, although you really didn’t know what to say. But then the chance never came up because of the chaos orchestrated by Orochimaru.

After the Chunin exams and the attack of Orochimaru, you hadn’t heard of Neji for a while since you’ve been tasked to help with the repairs of the village. And when you did hear about him, it was terrible, terrible news.

Sasuke left the village to seek power from the very person who just wrecked havoc in Konoha. His leaving alone left you in despair. What Itachi was to Shisui is exactly what Sasuke means to you, and him doing such a thing without even letting you know makes you feel like a failure both as a friend and as a family.

The news didn’t end there, however. Apparently the squad that Shikamaru had led to retrieve Sasuke had been severely injured and were on the brink of death — one of them being Neji.

You remember feeling guilt and regret burning your skin. You remember the shame of not being able to save Sasuke from the darkness and not being able to help the retrieval squad in any way. You blame yourself for the horrible things that happened.

Since then, you have made it a point to visit the squad in the hospital every day, making sure you apologize and thank them for their service. But admittedly, it’s Neji that you always stay with longer.

It’s not that you aren’t comfortable with the others, they’re really nice and easy to get along with. But they always have other visitors with them, mostly their team members and relatives. Neji, on the other hand, didn’t get as many visits since his other teammate, Rock Lee, was also injured because of his fight with Gaara. So Tenten and Guy sensei would switch visits between the two every other day.

Besides that, his clan members rarely ever visited. And you didn’t want him to be alone in such trying moments, especially when you didn’t get to do anything to prevent this from happening.

As closed off as Neji is, because of your constant visits, you have found a way to worm yourself into the walls he put up. And by the time he’s discharged from the hospital, you somehow became close friends.

From that moment on, you find yourself coming to Neji on times that you’re in despair and in doubt. You trust him enough to tell him your stories, worries, and fears because he doesn’t judge you. And he does the same with you.

Neji listens when you want him to listen, and talks when you need him to talk. He’s quite level headed and very much rational, and because of that he gives the best advice.

With him, you find yourself healing and growing. With you, he finds himself learning to forgive.

Neji easily makes you see things in a different way; a different light; a different perspective, and helps you become a better shinobi and a better person in general.

For you, Neji has such a comforting aura. While he’s sometimes cold and stoic around others, with you, he softens up. With you, he’s gentle; careful even. And it’s because of this that you find yourself admiring him more and more.

But before anything could happen — before you could even confess — the Fourth Shinobi War was declared.

Just like that, time seemed to start running out. And you have lost all hopes of being together with Neji as a lover rather than a friend.

The war is awful. Quite frankly, it overwhelmed you too much, too easily. The bodies lying on the floor with dried out blood reminded you of the massacre of the Uchiha clan. But the only person who’s able to calm you down and help you move along is Neji.

The both of you fight side by side, always nearby Hinata in case she would need help. When the night comes and the enemies cease their attack, it’s your turn to talk Neji into relaxing a bit because he’s started straining his eyes from too much use. And because it’s you who asked and it’s you who’s there with him, he knows he and the rest of the Allied Forces are safe, so he rests.

But somehow chaos ensues and in the middle of it, you both get separated. You’re worried deeply, but you trust his skills and his strength, and you know you’ll be reuniting with him again.

And reunited with him you did. But when you have found him once again, he’s blocking out the Ten Tails’ attack with... his body.

With desperation, you transported to his side as quickly as you can. Summoning your last bits of chakra, you use Susanoo to protect him, Hinata, and Naruto. The last thing you remember is the look of relief on Neji’s face, but before it could morph into worry, you have already blacked out.

By the time you have woken up, you’re in Konoha’s hospital. The first thing you see is Neji resting his head on the side of your bed, peacefully sleeping, looking as angelic as ever.

Your body aches with every breath you take, even more so with little movement. But you didn’t let that deter you from weaving your fingers along the Hyuga’s hair. He stirs almost immediately and then he opens his pretty eyes. He sits up upon seeing you.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” You softly ask.

He doesn’t respond to your question. “You’re awake,” he sighs in relief. “You’re finally awake. Let me go call Lady Tsunade and Sakura.” He stands up.

But before he can even take a step, you grab his wrist. “Stay,” you mumble.

Neji looks at you, reading your face. But then he nods and sits.

“Is it over?” You ask.

“Yes, the war’s over.”

“What happened after?”

“It’s a long story… but tell me, how are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling fine. My body aches, but it’s not a big deal.”

“What do you mean it’s not a big deal?!” Neji looks upset that it takes you by surprise. “Do you remember what happened? Didn’t you know you almost died?! You almost used up all your chakra to use Susanoo! That’s so stupid and reckless!”

His aggressive tone effectively gets you angry. “I did it for you!” You snap. “Of course I remember what happened! Even if I want to forget, the memory is branded in my mind! You fucking wanted to use your body to shield Naruto from that attack, didn’t you? How is that not stupid and reckless? Huh?”

Neji’s chakra flares up as he clenches his jaw. Yet, he doesn’t speak.

You breathe out, trying to calm down. You rarely ever fought with Neji and he’s never really raised his voice to you. With your body still tired and aching from the war, you didn’t want this conversation to escalate further so you try to diffuse the situation before it blows even more out of proportion.

In a low voice, you speak, “I was so scared, Neji. I didn’t want to lose you. I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever loved.”

A tear falls down from your eye and Neji’s heart breaks at your forlorn state. “I don’t want to lose you too. I can’t…” you squeak. “I love you so much, I can’t lose you.”

Neji’s breath hitches at your declaration. He could hear his heart drumming against his chest.

You love him?

He doesn’t know if he heard you right or if his mind is just playing tricks on him. It happened before. He’s loved you for so long… and there have been plenty of days he dreamt of hearing you say you love him too. And right now he isn’t sure if this is the reality or just another one of his dreams.

As if you’ve read his mind — like you always seem to be able to do — you repeat your words. “I love you, Neji.”

It’s the confirmation that he needs. And hearing your words knocked the wind out of him. “I… I…” he starts saying.

But you’ve taken his stuttering and his pale, panic-stricken face as a sign of an incoming rejection, so you look down instantly and say, “It’s fine if you don’t like me the same way. I just hope we can still be friends after—”

“No, I… I love you too,” he breathlessly confesses before you even finish your rambling.

Your head whips up after the words left his lips. You stare at him, unbelieving.

And just as you did a while ago, he repeats his words with conviction, “I love you too.”

A smile makes its way to your face, and when he smiles back, you immediately know this is a memory you won’t ever forget.

[beelspillowpet]

Greedy & Full - Mammon x Fem!MC

I’m back with another NSFW fic~ This time of the Great Mammon  ♡

Reader/MC is female!

Content warning!! Something of a master kink, a bit of spanking, lil bit of dirty talk, tad bit overstim

It was fairly easy talking Mammon into bed. All you had to do was wear his clothing. His jacket, which was a size or two bigger than your own. Something about the fact that his pants wouldn’t fit on you turned him on. Your full, wide hips are unable to fit into his pants. Your breasts may not have been massive, but they did ride up his shirt on you quite a bit. You got him hot and bothered and he couldn’t articulate why.

“Get out of my damn fit, human!” He scowled, chasing you up the steps. You duck from his grasp, laughing and taunting him the whole time. You were about to make fun of his lack of effort, he should have caught you by now.

However, he grabbed a fistful of his jacket and pulled you backwards. “Alright you, outta my clothes now!” He huffed.

“Mammychan…” you purred deviously. “You want me out of all these clothes for you, huh?”

What came from Mammon was nothing short of a malfunction. He sputtered and turned his nose upward. “Hmph! More like you should be eager to get out of yours! I bet you’re dyin’ for the great Mammon to admire your figure.” His hands slipped down to your waist, his fingers curling in the belt loops of the too- tight pants. “Fuck. You’re stretching them out, aren’t you?”

You roll your hips into his touch, grinning. “Mm, I might have torn them up already? Oops~... I guess you might have to punish me.”

“Fuck… you want me to torture ya’ babe? Make you ride my cock until you’re in tears? Spank that fat ass until it’s red and stinging?” One hand comes up, and he’s delicately brushing hair out of your face. “Drive me crazy. Wanna fuck you so deep. Look at ya’ wearing my clothes and shit… looks so cute on ya’ babe.” He finished his compliment with a harsh slap on your ass. The force of it alone made you arch forward, grinding against the bulge in his underwear.

His breath hitched at the friction, and he was tempted to spank you again, but he didn’t want an accident in his own underwear. You would never let him live it down if that was all it took. So he pushed you away a bit, then led you down the steps. He held your hand firmly, and pulled you close once you reached his bed. He sat down slowly, and smirked at you.

“Get out of those clothes. We can assess the damage and you can pay up right now if you… apologize properly.” He winked, his tongue snaking out and dancing across his upper lip seductively.

As if possessed, you slowly began to remove the jacket, tossing it on to the bed. When you reached for the shirt, he stopped you. “Slowly, sweetheart. I wanna take it in. Pretend you're my personal stripper, giving me a show.”

You blush, not knowing how to take it slowly like that. You weren’t shy by all means, but pretending to be a stripper was still out of your league. You wanted him, and you wanted him to want you too. So you tried your best, making a show of your body by putting emphasis in pulling up the shirt. Once you managed to get out of it, you tossed it away onto the floor with finesse. He whistled under his breath to show approval.

Next came the pants, which were much less a show of your sexy side, and more like you wiggling out of them. Like a dancing worm at the end of a string. You at least turned around so he could watch your ass and thighs jiggle, and it saved you from having to look him in the eyes during this embarrassment. Once you managed to kick off the pants, next came for the bra. You turned around, and reached behind you. Unhooking the bra, you lifted it slowly, until it was just barely covering your areola before stopping. Mammon looked like he was going to fly off the bed right then and there.

“Fuck, don’t make me wait.” He groaned, palming himself through his shorts.

“Oh? I thought you wanted me to make a show of it?” You shoot back immediately. Mammon groaned again, adjusting on the bed to get comfortable. You spread your legs a bit and roll your hips seductively, pulling the bra up with the rest of your breasts, until the flop down with a delicious slap! Against your chest. His breath stutters and he stares. You were unimaginably beautiful, and you were going to be chanting his name like it was a prayer before long.

Once the bra was off and again tossed to the side, you spun back around and leaned against his dresser. You shook your ass, snaking a hand down the front and between your legs. “Mammon,” you pant hotly. “You want it? What’s right here?” You pat your panty-covered pussy, twitching at the pressure. “You want to fuck my pussy? Pump me full of cum?”

“Fuck,” Mammon gasped. “Want to fuck you deep. Little brat. I told you what I want already. You’re almost there…”

“Want the Great Mammon’s cock… stuff me so well. Take them off.” You roll your hips again. “Take them off and fuck me. I’ll be a good girl after I’ve had my fill. I know you want to watch me tremble. As the cum drips down my legs.”

There was something like a low, animalistic growl that came from behind you. And suddenly his body was pressed against yours. “I was gonna spank you for ruining my pants,” he growls. “But now I just want to fuck that tight pussy until you can’t speak. Until you can’t think.” He grinds against you, holding your hips firmly against his.

“Feel that?” He pants. His cock is twitching through his underwear and you moan. It’s hard and warm, even through the cloth keeping it restrained. “That’s a real man. You’re gonna have a real man fucking your brains out. Fuck, are you ready?”

You hum, content with him having his way. You were done teasing him, now you just wanted to listen to him come undone for you. To feel him lose control on your body, to bite, scratch, kiss, and caress you to his greedy hearts content.

The slap that came to your ass startled you. Then feeling the nails dig into your underwear and hearing it be torn off like it was cheap cloth surprised you. He laughed darkly.

“What’s wrong babe? You wear my clothes, I tear yours. You be a fucking brat,” another harsh slap to your ass, “I put you in your place. You thought you had me, didn’t you? Thought you had me whipped but no.” He snarls, his hand coming around to grab you by your face. “You’re mine for the rest of the night. You understand me?”

“Y-yes, Mammy. A-ah-!”

Another harsh slap. This time you jumped a little, the sting feeling too good. “What are you supposed to call me?” He warns.

“M-master. Master Mammon…” you whine.

“Good girl.” He let’s go of your face, and you lower your head on to the dresser. The hand returns to your body, teasing shapes across your pussy. “Fucking wet and all I did was spank you. You like being punished, huh? You love when I give you attention.”

You swallow thickly and turn your head. He’s kicking his underwear off quickly and lining up behind you, his finger swiping between your folds. He slicks himself up the best he can before taking the head of his cock and replacing his fingers. He groans, your wet and scalding hot pussy is inviting him sweetly, but before he thrusts in he has to set down a ground rule. Something to make things interesting.

“If you make so much as a peep,” he hisses into your ear, “I’ll take that as an invitation to go another round. You hear me?”

You lower your hand and huff. “Y-yes, Master.”

With that, he shoves in. All the way in. The usual tightness is replaced with a suffocating constriction, and he chokes on the pleasure. He hunches over you, nails digging into the soft of your hips. He laughs when you cry out, unable to contain yourself from being empty to suddenly very full.

“That’s one,” he counts. “You really are poorly trained. Don’t worry. I’ll train that pathetic human brain, this tight little pussy to behave.” One finger reaches around to cup one of your breasts in his hand and he squeezes, eliciting a soft keen from your throat. “Two!” He laughs again.

You nearly groan from anticipation of more rounds. The fool is so busy counting he hasn’t started mo- ah.

He’s pounding into you now. Knocking the dresser against the wall with each harsh thrust. He has no mercy in his movements, his hips ramming into yours with practiced expertise. He’s taken you in various ways before, in various places. He had to admit this was one of his favorites.

You reached down and rolled your fingers around your clit, struggling with all your might to not make a sound as per his orders. It was getting more and more difficult by the second, hearing how hard he was fucking into you. The sounds of skin slapping harshly against stinging skin, the dresser knocking against the wall, and the carnal desire that was Mammon at the very moment, turning your insides into a humming, buzzing, pulsing mess.

“Fuck yeah,” he moaned, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “Fuck yeah! You like that? Me fucking the shit out of your little pussy? Ooh, fuck!” You were hoping, praying really, that in the midst of all his talking he would either forget his count, or wouldn’t hear you at all. Either way, you took the chance and hissed. It wasn’t much, but you were grateful you didn’t hear him acknowledge it.

He slows for a moment, rolling his hips into yours. The hand on your breast now rests on the flat on your back and he’s smoothing kisses down your back. Sometimes he gets like this, and you weren’t entirely sure why. He’s being rough with your body one second, and the next he’s kissing you, shifting the mood for just a moment. To appreciate you, your brain supplies. You clench up at that realization, and just like that, Master Mammon is back again.

He slams back into you, and you’re surprised at how you didn’t manage to make a noise that time. You’re dangerously close, and he can tell.

“Who owns this pussy?” He asks, fucking into you as if you’re going to be leaving the Devildom tomorrow. You don’t dare answer him. “Who owns this fucking pussy?!” He shouts at you. “Answer me!”

“You!!” You cry out, and suddenly your voice is gone. He’s fucking you through your first orgasm, and seconds later you’re panting, reaching back and squeezing his arm. Pleading for him to stop, but without telling him to, he simply won’t listen. You flop on to the dresser seconds later, silent again as he laughs.

“Four!” He counts. “You thought I didn’t hear you earlier, did you?”

You almost groan. He can be such an insufferable dickhead sometimes. You still loved him, regardless.

His pace becomes uneven, and you can feel him coming close as well. You simply hold on and pray that he’s so tired after that, he pulls out and goes straight to sleep like he sometimes does. But he was still on his first round, and he was the Avatar of Greed.

Once he’s cum inside you for the first time, he pulls out afterwards, admiring the view of your quivering thighs. He waits a moment before you begin to push the cum out of you, oozing down your legs and making a mess on the floor.

“Fuck, c’mere.” He commands. You stand up slowly and waddle towards him. He puts his arms around you, patting the top of your head, before promptly tossing you onto his bed. You barely get a word in before he’s already on top of you again, thrusting away with reckless abandon.

“Master!” You sob. You feel like kicking yourself. You can’t seem to quiet down, no matter what. Everything just felt too good, the force behind Mammon’s thrusts shoved you violently against the bed, rubbing your clit against the soft sheets. You felt a second orgasm coming quickly, and Mammon pulled your head up by your hair.

“Yeah, cum on this cock. Cum on this fucking cock, babe! You fucking love it don’t you? Cum on this fucking cock!”

The overload of sensory was too much, and for a second time that night, you felt a powerful orgasm rip through you. Your eyes nearly rolled back and you gave a low, throaty groan. “So fucking good, Master! So fucking good! Aaah- Mammon! P-please…!”

“Shut the fuck up,” he growls, and immediately you fall silent again. You may have made your pact with him, but nothing has ever changed, it seems. “When I say shut the hell up and take it, that’s what I mean.”

You bury your face into the mattress when he lets go of your hair. Your broken sobs fill his ears and he drinks it up like nectar. A stupid demon is a useful thing to have, but a powerful one, able to serve you your punishment relentlessly was far more enticing that you anticipated. 

[warriorsbutnotreally]

Different Clans And Their Naming Headcanons

here i go again with my rambles of headcanons while working on several things so that i can empty my brain

this is all about naming

Now, obviously I agree with the idea that cats should be named after what cats know, but I'm also not a traditional namer and I love the fun and wild sounding names!

This is not about this, though

Also this is entirely headcanon, like stated before, and you don't have to agree with me at all

.

I headcanon that the Clans have a 'general' idea of names that are shared by the Clans [the basic names like White-, Bird-, Bark-, Frog-, Grass-, Feather-, etc]

but each Clan also has their own unique ideas of names that separate them from each other. They sound weird to other Clans, but to the Clan they come from it's completely normal!

to explain better-

.

ThunderClan

unique to ThunderClan are storm names that don't appear in other Clans. While other cats are alright with simple Storm-, Lightening-, and Thunder-

ThunderClan takes it a step further

Flash-, Spark-, Bolt-, and Rumble- are examples of this

They're also drawn to symbolic names when it comes to certain cats as well, Fireheart / Firestar being the best example, as Bluestar saw him as the 'fire that will save the Clans'

If it had been any other cat to find her, it's without question that either Twigkit or Violetkit would've been named Skykit

.

ShadowClan

when it comes to naming, ShadowClan loves names that will strike fear into the hearts of others. They're not afraid to give strange names to their kits, even if it's seen as odd.

Claw-, Broken-, Hollow-, and Stumpy- are only some of the easier options, but it isn't out of the question for a queen to look at her kits and decide to use Blood-, Screech-, or Bone-

ShadowClan often revels in the idea that the other Clans want to leave them alone for their odd names.

.

WindClan

WindClan doesn't often go out of its way with names, though they do use ones that aren't common in the other Clans.

They're not afraid of using bugs for names

Worm-, Tick-, Maggot-, and Flea- are actually WindClan names, but not commonly used as WindClan doesn't like when the other Clans mock them for their names, even if ShadowClan's names are worse.

Even then, they are also the ones to use more herb-related and farm-related names

Lovage-, Barley-, Oat-, Horse-, Sheep-, Woolly-, and Hay- are examples of this

.

RiverClan

other Clans easily consider RiverClan names a bit silly. They'll go into the strangest details about names, but they don't mind as the names have a lot of importance to them.

Names relating to fish - like Scale-, Fin-, and Gill- - and names relating to water - Foam-, Bubble-, and Algae- - are normal and respected.

.

Old SkyClan

Old SkyClan names are very.. Pretentious at times. They're one of the few Clans that openly used -spirit and they also value names that sound grand.

Their names were always strange and they're the ones to normalize naming kits out of attributes of personalities like Brave-, Shy-, and even Bold-

They also were the first ones to use Song- and Sweet-, giving themselves names that stood out

.

Modern SkyClan

Mordern SkyClan is more fun with names.

On top of naming cats after cats they know [see Firefern, Stormcloud, and Harrybrook], they also aren't afraid to use names for words that the other Clans don't understand

This is due to SkyClan being more open with who they are as a group of former kittypets, loners, and rogues

Their names sound wild to the other Clans, but to them it's a part of who they are

Gravel-, Fidget-, Pillow-, Blanket-, and Snip- are examples of this

They also will name cats after others they know and have the option for outsiders to keep some part of their name as a prefix

This ends in rather funny sounding names like Harveymoon from canon but also eludes to possible names like Mittenspaw, Cheeseclaw, or Raspberrystorm

.

again these are just my fun headcanons

it's all fun and games and in the end these are just silly little cat books and there's no harm in having fun with names

anyway there's my brain juices emptied for now

but knowing me there will be more fun headcanon stuff on its way cause I like sharing my personal thoughts on things and seeing other people's thoughts as well

[dynyamight]

fluffy prompts! 211 please! :) -sneakers <3

send me a writting ask

211. We’re a team, remember?

If he had the option, Midoriya would prefer to patrol alone.

And, everyone seems to be baffled about it.

“Can you blame us? You don’t look like the lone wolf type, you know.” Shinsou had mentioned before, back in the locker rooms.

Blinking, Midoriya tilted his head over to him, a few lockers away. “I didn’t know lone wolves had a look.”

“They don’t. But, if they did, they wouldn’t look like you.” Shinsou sighed, bringing a towel up to his neck. He dabbed gingerly at the sweat. “Though, I guess with your power, you wouldn’t need another person to weigh you down.”

“It’s not about power. I just don’t want to drag anyone into immense danger.” Midoriya admitted, slipping his arms out of his hero costume.

Immediately, he felt a sharp jolt of pain cease his arms. He winced, looking down at the stitches around his shoulders, now tightened, fresh, and sensitive.

The wound, as well as the others littering his body, are reminders of that danger he worries for others. Each fight is with a different villain, varying in strength and quirk. But, they all have the same intentions when battling Midoriya.

Enemies want him dead. Simple as that.

Sometimes, even everyday people wish him dead.

And, it’s the type of danger he wouldn’t want anyone to face.

Shinsou shrugged, having tossed his wraps in his locker. “You say that, but all heroes are bound to be in danger, at some point. Aren’t they?”

“That’s not—“

Midoriya halts, immobilized. At first, he worries the new frozen sensation is an enemy quirk activating, from their recent shift on the clock. He instantly cursed himself for not being attentive.

But, a split second later, he realized from the tooth eating grin from Shinsou, that it was actually his doing.

He had been in the middle of unbuckling his utility belt. So much for that.

“Life and death. It’s the real game we’re all playing out in the city.” Shinsou stated, buttoning up his civilian clothes. “And, you swear you are its only player, Midoriya.”

The spell finally broke. Finally able to regain his movements, Midoriya gasped a deep, willful breath. “I-I just don’t want anyone to worry about me.”

“Worrying is a part of teamwork.” Shinsou insisted, shaking his head, “If we didn’t worry, then everyone would be reckless, without a care in the world. People wouldn’t care, and then, there would be no sense of compassion, anywhere.”

Pulling off his stirrups, Midoriya weakly laughed, unable to say anything else.

Yeah, that seems to be something he does too often, than not. Reckless. Spontaneous. Relying on gut feeling.

But, Midoriya cares, he does. Just, maybe not the way the rest of the world does.

So willing to give himself, grow tired and weak. When others just want him to rest.

Midoriya left shortly after that. He felt a little guilty, leaving Shinsou earlier than usual. He hoped his friend knew that he appreciated his advice, as well as his honest truth.

However, he had lost the will to continue the rather self-exposing conversation. Besides, the exhaustion always settles into his bones, the moment he stops moving and starts thinking.

Alas, he has a long way back home; clock out of the agency building, take the elevator, walk to the train station, street stop, and up the elevator to his apartment.

Which leads him to now; standing outside his apartment complex, shivering under nothing, but a hoodie and sweats.

His teeth chatter, behind his face mask, as he tries to jiggle the keys inside. The winter night breeze burning his nose cold.

A click resounds his brain, and relief washes over him. The moment he steps inside, the guard he feels, tight in his shoulders, drops finally. Closing the door gently from behind, Midoriya lets out a long needed sigh.

Home. He’s back home.

Quietly, Midoriya offers a pardon of intrusion, as he shuffles his shoes off at the front. He sets down his work duffle bag on the floor, mentally promising to wash his hero costume and the undergarments, early in the morning.

He wishes he could at least put them in the washer. But, the weight of his eyelids feel so heavy; he stumbles into his bedroom simply on instinct, rather than sight.

Slowly, Midoriya pushes the cracked door open. With quiet footsteps, he walks to the bed, towards one open space, ready for his arrival.

The other space was filled, obvious by the big lump of covers right beside it.

Lifting the bedsheets, Midoriya simply worms himself inside. He makes sure to leave a gap between him and the occupied space, as to not alert his presence. He even makes sure to keep his chilled toes curled, towards himself.

It was futile. The body shifts, and suddenly, a tired, glaring pair of red eyes look at him. “..Took you long enough.”

Midoriya’s heart tightens, feeling bad. “Ah, it was supposed to be a double shift, but then, they needed me for an extra team up. Everything changed at the last minute.”

Twelve hours, out roaming the city. And, then, a whole team mission added on top of all of that. More or less, two days out in the city. Draining didn’t even cover the amount of tired he felt.

“Tch. ‘Course you did..” Under the covers, a warm pair of arms outreach towards Midoriya. They wrap around his waist. “Had me fucking waiting.”

Midoriya smiles, bringing his own body closer to the warmth of limbs. Cold and hot legs entangled together. Arms at each other’s waist. Foreheads touching.

“I didn’t mean to make you wait, Kacchan. Sorry.” He whispers, closing his eyes.

He hears Bakugou click his tongue, before there’s a hard pinch at his cheek. Midoriya whines at the pain, but Bakugou pays no mind.

“Send a damn text, next time.” Bakugou hisses.

“Okay, okay! My face s’hurting, Kacchan.”

He doesn’t need to see Bakugou’s intense glare; he can feel it staring right at the space between his brows. However, instead there’s a soothing hand that runs through Midoriya’s curls. “Gross. You’re freezing as hell, and you didn’t even shower, either?”

Midoriya shakes his head. “I will do it later.” He sleepily says.

“And your clothes?”

“..Will do it later.”

Bakugou growls, and Midoriya mentally prepares for the onslaught of curses and complaints at his lazy attitude.

But, it never happens. Instead, Bakugou pulls himself closer to Midoriya, head nestled in the crook of his neck. “S’fine.” He huffs.

“I swear I will do it tomorrow morning.” Midoriya offers weakly.

“Don’t bother.” Bakugou breath tickles around Midoriya’s ears. “Sleep in. I’ll do it.”

“No, please. I will—“

“Did I fucking stutter?” Bakugou mutters, and there’s a small pull at his ear. “I said don’t bother. And, I mean it.”

“Then, I will make breakfast.”

“No.”

“..How about lunch?”

“I said no.”

“Kacchan, please—“

“Fucking hell, go to sleep!” Bakugou yells into his ear, tightening his grip around Midoriya. “Just— I got all of tomorrow. Sleep.”

Midoriya shrugs against the embrace, heart feeling heavy. “I can do it all, too.”

“M’not saying you can’t. I know you can.” Bakugou whispers, running his fingers through his curls again, “But, you keep forgetting that you don’t have do shit alone all the damn time.”

“I just prefer—“

“To do it all on your own. Yeah. I fucking know.” Bakugou sighs, “But, we’re—“

There’s a moment of hesitation, obvious on Bakugou’s end. However, after a deep breath out, Bakugou wills himself to speak. “..We’re a team, remember?”

Midoriya’s face reddens instantly. A team. That’s another way to put it.

Dating. They’re dating. Almost a year now.

And, Bakugou even remotely mentioning it never fails to make Midoriya feel the fanny flutters all over again.

“Y-Yeah.” Midoriya barely voices, wobbly smiling, “We are.”

“Then, let me do shit.” Bakugou mutters, his face feeling hot against Midoriya’s neck, “Let me be there for you.”

“You don’t have to..” Midoriya insists feebly.

“I ain’t doing it out of force. Even if it’s just for one day, I want to help you.”

Sighing, Midoriya brings his hand to Bakugou’s chin, lifting up his head. Their gazes meet. “You mean that?”

Bakugou rolls his eyes. “God, how much more do I got to fucking spell it out to you? Yes.”

Letting a soft snort, Midoriya inches his face close. “It’s like you love me, or something.” He teases.

“Shut it.” However, there’s a slight upturn in the corners of Bakugou’s lips. “You’re the fucking worst.”

Midoriya smiles back. “Thank you for putting up with me, Kacchan.”

“You put up with my shit, just as much.” Bakugou mumbles.

“Yeah, but I have problems.”

“Don’t we all.”

Midoriya laughs feebly, shaking his head. He closes his eyes, losing the strength to keep them open any longer. “Thank you for worrying about me..” He plants a small kiss onto Bakugou’s lips, before settling his head onto his shoulders.

“Hah? Who said anything about ‘worry’? I ain’t fucking worried.” Bakugou growls, “Never have been. Never will be.”

But, Midoriya knows better. Especially with how close Bakugou holds him, and the way he continues to rub a comforting hand onto his back, making sure to avoid his stitched shoulder.

Warming him up. Lulling him to sleep. Allowing him to let go of all his stresses.

Midoriya smiles himself to sleep.

[dreamingofaizawa]

Powerful Ch. 3

Yakuza! Shouta Aizawa x Fem! Reader

*Mafia AU*

Warnings: Misogyny (not from Shouta), a dagger, kinda fluffy

Word Count: 3k

Author's Note: This took too damn long but here we are. Definitely coming out with another part or two, but the next one is gonna start at a huge timeskip so yeah. That'll be fun.

Anywho, Enjoy~

For Reference, this is the dress I describe in here.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 4

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For your second night with Shouta you find yourself lost in thought, staring out at the stars. The stress from before the meeting never disappeared, only delayed. Now it’s all catching up, and your brain is struggling to sort everything out.

Shouta could be on the receiving end of some very misogynistic and traditional clans’ anger very soon. You’re relieved that your future husband is nothing like them, but the backlash he could be getting just by bringing you to a meeting so soon after the announcement is frightening, not to mention some irrational clans may decide to split off and find a rival Yakuza to adopt them. Even so, that’s probably the worst of the outcomes. It’s unlikely you’ll have to worry about either of your safety, though there is still a small chance.

For the second time Shouta wraps his arms around you, surrounding you with his scent and body heat.

“I hope this won’t become a habit, little one.” He presses his cheek to the side of your head, kissing your temple gently. His presence is calming, helps your overactive brain slow down.

“I just needed space to think.” He hums, the sound reverberating through your body.

“What could you be thinking about so late at night?” You don’t really want to tell him, but you figured it’s better than keeping it all in.

“I just worry about the backlash you’ll be getting after the meeting today. This organization is a traditional one, and women have always been kept away from the violent and criminal side of it for centuries. To suddenly name an onna-oyabun, and a woman that previously held a low rank at that, you’re bound to feel some sort of repercussions.” He squeezes you gently, kisses your temple again.

“That’s what you’re worrying your pretty head about? I’ll be fine, little one. Let’s go to bed.” He’s right, you suppose. There isn’t a lot that can affect him or his position, so there isn’t a lot you need to worry about. You nod, taking your weight off of him to go back to the room. You’re a little surprised when he picks you up again, scoops you off your feet and carries you to bed. He tugs you into him just the same as the night before, and once again you fall asleep to the soft thrum of his heart.

The next morning you’re woken by Shouta again. This time you don’t immediately pull away, instead choosing to bask in his embrace a few moments longer. It feels like you’ve known Shouta for years rather than hours, having seen some of the most intimate and private parts of him, and all you want to do is dig deeper. But of course, there’s time for that later.

“Come on, little one. It’s time to wake up. We’re going to see your parents today, and then we’ve got another meeting to attend.” You hum lightly then push off of him, taking a glance at his handsome face before getting out of bed to prepare for the day. You choose a dress you hadn’t worn in a while, one that felt like it would fit today’s events, a flowing black sundress with a halter neckline. Simple black heels pair nicely with it, as well as a small black clutch purse.

You aren’t anxious about Shouta meeting your parents. They aren’t as traditional as most, ideals and views closer to Shouta’s. All parties involved gave their bows in greeting, even Shouta, and brunch went by without a hitch. It wasn’t the usual cringey romcom scene where the parents ask ‘why do you love our daughter’. In fact, they know that the marriage is strategic. Of course, Shouta had made his thoughts clear, that he intends to ensure the union is enjoyable for the both of you. His honesty made a small smile worm its way onto your face, though you managed to hide it well enough.

Soon you’re on the road again, en route to the second meeting. You aren’t too surprised that Shouta already has two scheduled meetings back-to-back after the gala, he is a busy man after all.

The venue is another restaurant, this one not quite as high-end but just as beautiful, the entire massive building shaped like a circle and a koi pond around the perimeter. A bridge is all that connects the sidewalk with the building. You and Shouta are guided through by a host, and out a back door where another bridge connects to a separate island in the extended pond, the structure enclosed with sheer beige curtains.

Again, conversation abruptly stops when you enter. You’ll have to get used to it, you suppose. You sit, and the meeting begins. The subject is mostly territory disputes, bargaining for territory extensions or swaps with the others, all of them trying to work out strategies that benefit not only themselves but other clans as well. You keep silent throughout, listening carefully and learning, taking information and analyzing it. There must be someone Shouta doesn’t like in the meeting, because when the most important details are worked through, he excuses himself to the restroom once again.

You wonder, briefly, why he’d choose to play the same trick a second time in a row. If he does it too often his plan would become transparent, though one could argue not doing it enough would be just as easy to read. You don’t know how often he excuses himself from these meetings, so you decide to leave it in his hands.

Fortunately for you, it would seem no man here is willing to speak about your presence. It’s been almost ten minutes and none of them has said a word to or about you, choosing instead to discuss territories a bit further. Though you were beginning to question why Shouta hadn’t yet returned. Surely one would get suspicious, and one did, glancing toward the main building. It was then you all shifted your attention to Shouta, who stood at the opposite end of the bridge speaking into his phone. So that’s why he’s taking so long.

And unfortunately, that meant these men were relatively safe.

“So what’s the woman doing here?” It was barely a whisper, but you could hear it even over the sounds of the pond. A glance up shows the blonde to your right had leaned over to the man next to him. He’s much younger than the man from yesterday, maybe in his mid-late twenties, his hair clearly not natural. The one he’d whispered to flicked his gaze up, catching your own, and shouldered the blonde who subsequently looked to you. He cracks a cheeky smile, a poor attempt to cover himself really.

“Ah, Onna-oyabun, it’s good to finally see the Black Dragon’s wife-to-be.” It would seem news travels fast, and the blonde is much less bold than the older man. You crack your own smile, a sickly sweet show of teeth that hid a venomous bite.

“The woman has a name. Please, do not be afraid to use it in discussion. And I will tell you exactly what I told the previous oyabun who questioned my presence. I am here because Shouta wants me to be.” His smile doesn’t falter, but his eye visibly twitches at your response. It’s almost amusing to see his composure slip. It’s less amusing when he glances back to where Shouta is still on the phone.

“With all due respect I’m not afraid, I simply do not feel the need. And my question was not directed at you, but at my associate here.” He loops an arm over the shoulder of the man he’d asked, the dark-haired man wide-eyed and nervous. You aren’t sure how to answer his quip without rising tension, but Shouta made it clear you’re to be commanding a room just as he does, so you choose to strike a nerve and stir the pot. For added effect you let your face drop into a deadpan, tilt your chin up just a hair and glare.

“Most would feel it necessary to use a person’s name or title when discussing anything regarding them, especially in their presence. Therefore I can’t help but feel you may not have any respect for me when you clearly should.” You could see the muscles in his jaw clench as he ground his teeth, his nostrils flaring with his anger. You nearly let a smile crawl onto your face at the satisfaction of knowing you’d angered an asshole like him with only your words.

“Maybe I don’t respect you. What are you going to do about it?” The man still under his arm stiffens, a hand slapping the blonde’s chest, his eyes locked on the entrance to the room. Shouta stands there, but the blonde seems to either not notice or not care. You aren’t given time to answer his rhetorical question.

“Nothing. You can’t do a thing about it, because you hold no power over me.” He’s elbowed this time, the dark-haired man trying harder to get the blonde’s attention off of you and onto the man he should be fearing right about now. To be fair, Shouta stands almost behind the blonde, who sits to your right, so it isn’t hard to believe he doesn’t see him. You just let him dig his own grave.

“And you hold no power over me because you’re a woman. A woman out of her place and on the wrong side of business, let alone holding a rank much lower than mine.” The man beneath the blonde’s arm had given up, choosing to bow his head down and stay silent. It’s Shouta who speaks next.

“I believe it’s you who holds a much lower rank than her.” The blonde’s face goes pale, his shit-eating grin dropping faster than a sinking stone.

“In case you hadn’t heard the news yet I’ve assigned her a title, and I expect you to use it. She may have asked you to use her name, but you should address her as Onna-oyabun any time she is brought up in discussion, regardless of whether or not either of us are present.” He strides up behind you and places a hand on your bare shoulder, just like yesterday. You can’t help but feel his positioning is on purpose, physically placing you in front of him.

“Are you ready to go, little one?” You nod, rising from your seat and taking a small bow signaling your leave. Shouta lets a hand rest on your lower back, guiding you out, but you overhear the same blonde whisper under his breath. You’re definitely not meant to hear it.

“The Dragon can’t always be around to save you, brat.” You both freeze in your tracks, Shouta’s eyes wide and nostrils flaring with anger. Before he can turn to react you lean in and whisper in his ear.

“My turn.” He raises an eyebrow at you, then nods, crossing his amrs and leaning against the beam at the entrance. You pivot, pinning the blonde in place with a glare. If looks could kill, he’d be in a casket. Slowly, you begin a steady pace around the table.

“I do not rely on Shouta to help me in these situations. In fact, I could just as easily take a piece of your tongue myself.” You’re on the opposite side of the table now, still taking long, slow strides and glaring down at the man.

“But it is so glaringly obvious that you lack the same level of intelligence I hold, and therefore I would feel guilty to rob you of a muscle that you clearly haven’t learned to use properly,” you stop, standing stock still behind the blonde, “However.” In one swift movement your dagger is stuck in the wooden table directly in front of the blonde, your manicured fingers curled around the handle delicately.

“Should I hear another demeaning or degrading word out of your mouth, I will not hesitate to stain my fingers with your blood.” He doesn’t seem to be reacting at all, whether he’s afraid or not you can’t tell, but you don’t let that affect your performance. You lean in, your lips nearly grazing the shell of his ear.

“You probably wouldn’t even get to taste my blade, but I don’t mind taking my time if you want to savor the tang of steel.” You yank the blade from the wood and sheath it, straightening your posture.

“Had Shouta chosen another woman for his wife you may have been able to actually hurt her feelings with your childish words.” You turn, striding back to where Shouta holds his hand for you to take.

“Unluckily for you, I’m just as volatile as my other half. Be grateful that either of us are merciful. You get to keep your tongue. For now.” It’s cathartic, letting out your anger like that. It’s unlikely that the threat will get you any sort of respect, but fear works just as well in your favor. Respect is something hard to find and even harder earned as a woman in a man’s world, but fear works better against an enemy that dreads change. You can’t help but smirk as you walk away from the chaos you left behind, and as you glance up you see the faintest smirk worming its way onto Shouta’s face.

____

His chest swells with something akin to pride as he waltzes away from the restaurant. He was wrong to assume you were averse to violence, had taken your level-headedness and cool temperament to mean you are not a violent individual. To assume you were either incapable of violence or unable to handle the intensity was obviously a mistake on his part. Watching the blonde freeze up and pale under your hard gaze was extremely satisfying, and he had to admit seeing such controlled rage and sharp words pour from you was enjoyable and, among other things, wildly attractive.

Shouta thinks he should let you handle these situations more often, let you have your fun, maybe even plot to have you purposely go just a little too far and have him reel you back in. Maybe then people may start to understand that you aren’t to be treated lightly, you aren’t just a means to an end, just a glorified housewife. No, you’re much more than that and if it takes bloodied words and bloodier actions to get it through some thick skulls, well, he’s sure you know he’s willing to go there and farther.

But for now, he’d settle with the occasional threat of taking a body part.

____

Once again you stare out at the stars, thinking about the day’s events. You’re almost bouncing on your feet, adrenaline still flowing through your veins. You feel light now, knowing you can take control of an escalating situation. Whether or not you can do it all on your own isn’t a real question. Of course you could do it without Shouta present. His existence alone is enough to ward off any violence directed at you. But it’s your own actions that determine how people will perceive you.

You let Shouta control the first meeting incident, mostly because you had no clue what was going on and no information to work from. Now that you know Shouta is listening and that there’s a purpose behind his absence, you can use it to your advantage and weed out the worst of the bad apples. With that information, and confidence that Shouta will not reprimand you--but will in fact support you--for getting mouthy with said bad apples, you could let loose some of the rage that made your blood boil. It’s freeing, taking entitled men off their precious pedestals and knocking them down a bit.

Shouta wraps his arms around you for the third time, burying his face in your neck and breathing in your scent. He kisses you lightly, feather light presses of his lips against your skin. It really does feel good, being so close to someone.

“I thought this wasn’t becoming a habit.” You sigh and lean into him.

“I’m not quite tired. Honestly I’m thinking about today. I’m still on an adrenaline high just replaying it in my head, the thrill, being able to finally get a word in.” He chuckles, squeezing you a bit tighter to him.

“I’m going to assume you’d never really been allowed to do that sort of thing before.” You nod, a small smile curling your lips. Up until now you lacked any sort of standing or power, and the rush is amazing, for lack of better words. Shouta hums then nips at the shell of your ear, his voice sultry and deep.

“Well if you’re looking to burn energy I think I could help you with that.” Your breath hitches, not prepared for such a suggestion. For a second you believe it, believe he’s really suggesting what you think he is, but you can feel his hands moving and before you can react he’s digging his fingers into your sides, making you giggle uncontrollably.

He’s laughing with you, enjoying watching you try to squirm from his grasp. He releases you, and you run over to the bedroom and duck under the blanket in an attempt to hide, but he only laughs.

“You silly girl, now you’re trapped!” He finds your waist through the thick blanket and doesn’t relent until you’re gasping for air and crying for mercy. He stops, finally, and pulls the blanket off your head. Your face is flushed, your hair splayed wild over the sheets and your chest heaving for oxygen. For a moment his mind drifts to dirtier thoughts of a similar expression he’d like to see. He pushes those thoughts away as you beam up at him, your smile reminding him of sunshine. Rough fingers brush away the hair that had fallen over your face.

“Are you ready to try sleeping now, little one?” You lean your head into his hand, nuzzling your cheek into his palm. The way he’s gazing down at you now, you know you’d never felt so adored in your life.

“Let’s sleep.” He lies down and you get comfortable on top of him, resting your head in the crook of his neck and wrapping your leg around his waist. His arms lock around you, holding you in place and he kisses the top of your head.