#and i also feel bad saying this next part because personal grief obviously changes and affects a person more than other objective deaths | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

newronantic · 3 years

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HAIKYUU!! FICS

so this is mostly gonna be for myself to keep track of my favorite fics i’ve read, but hey if anyone else wants to check some of these out then thats great

MHA one is up!!

ill keep updating this as i read more, feel free to send me suggestions!

KageHina

plain as day - emleewrites

In which Hinata has spent the better part of the last twenty years putting his heart and soul into volleyball, hoping to be recognised, to be noticed. And yet he spends all these years also thinking of himself as rather plain, beyond his lack of height and bright hair, and not really noticeable at all.

In Transit - Mysecretfanmoments

Hinata finds that he likes standing close to Kageyama on buses and trains. It doesn't mean anything--probably. Maybe.

I like the way your clothes smell - Mysecretfanmoments

Power outages, ghost stories, and the presence of a certain orange-haired boy lead to bad decision-making on Tobio's part. He'd planned to keep his crush a secret; the universe has other plans.

Chaotic Neutral - akaraka

Who's this Kageyama person on twitter and is he gay?

1: Anonymous: see title

2: Anonymous: curry king

3: Anonymous >> 1: It's the curry king, obviously. Have you been using his memes this whole time without knowing who he was?

4: Anonymous: 1) Hinata Shouyou's boyfriend 2) See above

jellyfish - mysterytwin

At the beginning of his last year at Karasuno High School, Hinata Shouyou starts a list and calls it THINGS TO DO BEFORE GRADUATION, all with high hopes that he’ll be able to complete it before his time runs out.

TsukkiYama

Try This On For Size - CloudMonsta

A lot changed for Yamaguchi Tadashi over the course of high school. He started trying on dresses, for one.

The Great Yamaguchi-Tsukishima Split (Capitalization Necessary) - WyYeuw

"But no, the current situation isn’t normal. This situation requires the full attention of the team.

No, what’s really concerning this time around, is that Yamaguchi is the one ignoring Tsukishima.”

Yamaguchi confesses. Tsukishima fucks up—like, really fucks up. The volleyball club notices and loses a week’s worth of practice.

IwaOi

Terrarium - sausaged

He's practically a professional at being proactive (lies, lies, and lies when it comes to Iwaizumi).

At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?

Can he really tag his Instagram photos with #YOLO if he doesn't actually put that phrase into practice?

A story about Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, plants, and rocks.

They Say it Rain Diamonds on Jupiter - exsao

"You're in love with him."

Hajime considers denying it. He considers deliberately choking on his drink to express surprise, to create a distraction by spitting onto the man in front of him's pristine white shirt and causing a commotion. Instead, he swallows his mouthful of soda and heaves a small sigh once his mouth is free.

"Yeah," he says instead.

He's never been good at lying, anyway.

bait and switch - Stylographic_Blue_Rhapsody

Oikawa's university volleyball team knows he's in a long-distance relationship with someone from high school. They imagine a sweet-faced girl that matches his sarcasm with patience. They are so incredibly wrong.

my heart is where it’s always been - foreverautumn

Iwaizumi places his phone down carefully.

Oikawa. Pining after someone. There’s no way.

(Iwaizumi knows he shouldn’t care who Oikawa might have feelings for, but within the span of three days, it’s somehow the only thing he can think about.)

KuroKen

Beautiful People Will Ruin Your Life - todxrxki

Kuroo Tetsurou runs a private Twitter account where he's constantly tweeting about how desperately in love he is with Kozume Kenma. Little does he know that Kenma sees all the tweets and keeps referencing the account in an attempt to get Kuroo to confess to him. / Or, five times Kuroo didn't notice Kenma hinting about his private Twitter account, and one time he finally did.

the things that get caught in the valves of his heart - ghostpot

Emotional competency is not exactly Kuroo's strong suit. Kenma finds it quite amusing.

Accidentally In Love - todxrxki

Kuroo frowns, but then slowly, the corners of his mouth lift up into a smirk. "Well, if it's so unbelievable, why don't we give it a try?"

Kenma glances up at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Let's do the 36 questions to fall in love," Kuroo says, still smirking stupidly. "If we don't fall in love, then you're right, it's bullshit. But if we do somehow..." Kuroo waggles his eyebrows. "Then I win." / Kuroo decides he and Kenma should do the 36 questions to fall in love as a joke, but they both start to realize they might actually be in love already.

the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) - cosmogony

TW: major character death

Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives

even if you’re ahead for a bit, i will catch up - ghostpot

Kuroo first confesses when they're sticky-fingered, wide-eyed kids, and subsequently every day after that. Kenma takes a while to come around.

you’re the brake lines failing (as my car swerves off the freeway) - ghostpot

Kenma thinks that Kuroo looks ugly with his head bent against the arm of the couch like that. Then Kenma thinks that he wants to marry him, and is promptly thrown into the 5 stages of grief.

teach me the way home - icespyders

“Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because —

because — I don’t know how to say it: a day is long

and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station

when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.”

Kuroo and Kenma grow up in transit.

in this universe - crossbelladonna

Living with Kuroo is sometimes, just like this. It always feels surreal like he's living half a world and a lot of things rush by too quickly. Kenma feels like he'd watched him come and go in a blink, eyes wide and wordless as the shared space went snug in an instant and far larger in the next.

All this, and a glass of water.

Beginning’s End - todxrxki

Somehow over the course of Kenma's lifetime, he’s never really had an opportunity to miss Kuroo. He’s always been there. Even when they went to different schools, Kuroo would meet him afterwards so they could walk home together, shoulders brushing, Kuroo occasionally taking the opportunity to guide him when his nose was buried in the newest video game. The thought of Kuroo not being there anymore is uncomfortable, to say the least. / Kozume Kenma's third year and the changes the year brings in himself and his relationship with Kuroo Tetsurou.

All I Want for Christmas is You - todxrxki

“Kuro,” he says. “You’re a single guy.”

“Yeah, great, thanks for pointing that out.”

“And my parents already know you, plus they already know you like guys or whatever so… what if you pretended to be my date for Christmas dinner?” / In which Kenma recruits his housemate and best friend Kuroo to be his fake date for Christmas.

BokuAka

just to miss the sun - rosevtea

Everything begins to implode when MSBY Jackals outside hitter Bokuto Koutarou crashes Akaashi's livestream.

Operation BokuAka - kazzydolyn

After spending two whole years watching Bokuto and Akaashi pine for one another, the rest of the Fukuroudani Volleyball Club has had enough. When everyone meets up for a reunion dinner, the team decides to play matchmaker and finally get the two of them together. Unfortunately, their plan starts to fall apart when they discover that Akaashi is already dating someone. And apparently so is Bokuto. What a strange coincidence.

bitter - silvercistern

He accepted his classmate's chocolates gracefully, then declared his lack of interest with as much dignity as he could muster. She deserved the courtesy. At least she'd acknowledged that Valentine's Day was all about her, and not about him in the slightest.

Because if any of these girls had taken the time to actually get to know him, they’d quickly realize something even more important than his lack of interest in girls.

And that was that Akaashi hated sweets.

In Another Life - LittleLuxray

TW: major character death

Sleeping didn't come as easy as it used to. Bokuto knew this, and now Akaashi did, too.

The hospital AU that no body asked for, but that I took upon myself to write.

120% yes - pissedofsandwich

TOKYO FRANCHISE COMING SOON @OnigiriMiya

in reply to @bokkun_official

Congratulations! In celebration of your historic engagement, please DM us so we can send you a free membership code with a 25% discount on every fourth purchase!

Kissing Ace - karasunovolleygays

It happens right after training camp.

Akaashi Keiji has a secret he has guarded since he was a child. He won’t go so far as to call it a fear, but more of an aspect of himself of which he is horribly mortified. No one on the team knows about it, and Akaashi does his best to keep it that way.

But years of dodging hugs and casual contact come to naught in the blink of an eye and the swipe of a hand.

daisy rings and frivolous things (i am deliriously in love with you) - gabstar

Akaashi Keiji is in love. Bokuto Koutarou is a star. Everyone on Fukurodani has a gambling problem.

SakuAtsu

The MSBY Black Jackals Read Thirst Tweets - isaksara (syailendra)

Sakusa’s eyes are very dark naturally, sucking in all surrounding rays of light and crushing them in his pupils. For an athlete, he is rather pale. His lips look very pink in comparison. Atsumu is suddenly catastrophically aware that in this instance, ‘accent’ is a euphemism. “Good enough for your Olympic-size ego, Miya?”

(In which Atsumu realizes that he is attracted to Sakusa Kiyoomi in the most inconvenient way possible.)

A Liar’s Truth - internetpistol

In which Sakusa Kiyoomi is raised to believe that gay people go to hell but then takes one look at Miya Atsumu and thinks, then why the hell did God make them so fucking hot?

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army-of-mai-lovers · 3 years

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in which I get progressively angrier at the various tropes of atla fandom misogyny

tbh I think it would serve all of us to have a larger conversation about the specific ways misogyny manifests in this fandom, because I’ve seen a lot of people who characterize themselves as feminists, many of whom are women themselves, discuss the female characters of atla/lok in misogynistic ways, and people don’t talk about it enough.

disclaimer before I start: I’m not a woman, I’m an afab nonbinary person who is semi-closeted and thus often read as a woman. I’m speaking to things that I’ve seen that have made me uncomfy, but if any women (esp women existing along other axes of oppression, e.g. trans women, women of color, disabled women, etc) want to add onto this post, please do!

“This female character is a total badass but I’m not even a little bit interested in exploring her as a human being.”

I’ve seen a lot of people say of various female characters in atla/lok, “I love her! She’s such a badass!” now, this statement on its own isn’t misogynistic, but it represents a pretty pervasive form of misogyny that I’ve seen leveled in large part toward the canon female love interests of one or both of the members of a popular gay ship (*cough* zukka *cough*) I’m going to use Suki as an example of this because I see it with her most often, but it can honestly be applied to nearly every female character in atla/lok. Basically, people will say that they stan Suki, but when it comes time to engage with her as an actual character, they refuse to do it. I’ve seen meta after meta about Zuko’s redemption arc, but I so rarely see people engage with Suki on any level beyond “look at this cool fight scene!” and yeah, I love a cool Suki fight scene as much as anybody else, but I’m also interested in meta and headcanons and fics about who she is as a person, when she isn’t an accessory to Sokka’s development or doing something cool. of course, the material for this kind of engagement with Suki is scant considering she doesn’t have a canon backstory (yet) (don’t let me down Faith Erin Hicks counting on you girl) but with the way I’ve seen people in this fandom expand upon canon to flesh out male characters, I know y’all have it in you to do more with Suki, and with all the female characters, than you currently do. frankly, the most engagement I’ve seen with Suki in mainstream fandom is justifying either zukki (which again, is characterizing her in relation to male characters, one of whom she barely interacts with in canon) or one of the Suki wlw pairings. which brings me to--

“I conveniently ship this female character whose canon love interest is one of the members of my favorite non-canon ship with another female character! gay rights!”

now, I will admit, two of my favorite atla ships are yueki and mailee, and so I totally understand being interested in these characters’ dynamics, even if, as is the case with yueki, they’ve never interacted canonically. however, it becomes a problem for me when these ships are always in the background of a zukka fic. at some point, it becomes obvious that you like this ship because it gets either Zuko or Sokka’s female love interests out of the way, not because you actually think the characters would mesh well together. It’s bad form to dislike a female character because she gets in the way of your gay ship, so instead, you find another girl to pair her off with and call it a day. to be clear, I’m not saying that everybody who ships either mailee or yueki (or tysuki or maisuki or yumai or whatever other wlw rarepair involving Zuko or Sokka’s canon love interests) is nefariously trying to sideline a female character while acting publicly as if she’s is one of their faves--far from it--but it is noteworthy to me how difficult it is to find content that centers wlw ships, while it’s incredibly easy to find content that centers zukka in which mailee and/or yueki plays a background role.

also, notice how little traction wlw Katara ships gain in this fandom. when’s the last time you saw yuetara on your dash? there’s no reason for wlw Katara ships to gain traction in a fandom that is so focused on Zuko and Sokka getting together, bc she doesn’t present an immediate obstacle to that goal (at least, not an obstacle that can be overcome by pairing her up with a woman). if you are primarily interested in Zuko and Sokka’s relationship, and your queer readings of other female characters are motivated by a desire to get them out of the way for zukka, then Katara’s canon m/f relationship isn’t a threat to you, and thus, there’s no reason to read her as potentially queer. Or even, really, to think about her at all.

“Katara’s here but she’s not actually going to do anything, because deep down, I’m not interested in her as a person.”

the show has an enormous amount of textual evidence to support the claim that Sokka and Katara are integral parts of each other’s lives. so, she typically makes some kind of appearance in zukka content. sometimes, her presence in the story is as an actual character with layers and nuance, someone whom Sokka cares about and who cares about Sokka in return, but also has her own life and goals outside of her brother (or other male characters, for that matter.) sometimes, however, she’s just there because halfway through writing the author remembered that Sokka actually has a sister who’s a huge part of the show they’re writing fanfiction for, and then they proceed to show her having a meetcute with Aang or helping Sokka through an emotional problem, without expressing wants or desires outside of those characters. I’m honestly really surprised that I haven’t seen more people calling out the fact that so much of Katara’s personality in fanon revolves around her connections to men? she’s Aang’s girlfriend, she’s Sokka’s sister, she’s Zuko’s bestie. never mind that in canon she spends an enormous amount of time fighting against (anachronistic, Westernized) sexism to establish herself as a person in her own right, outside of these connections. and that in canon she has such interesting complex relationships with other female characters (e.g. Toph, Kanna, Hama, Korra if you want to write lok content) or that there are a plethora of characters with whom she could have interesting relationships with in fanon (Mai, Suki, Ty Lee, Yue, Smellerbee, and if you want to write lok content, Kya II, Lin, Asami, Senna, etc). to me, the lack of fandom material exploring Katara’s relationships with other women or with herself speak to a profound indifference to Katara as a character. I’m not saying you have to like Katara or include her in everything you write, but I am asking you to consider why you don’t find her interesting outside of her relationships with men.

“I hate Katara because she talks about her mother dying too often.”

this is something I’ve seen addressed by people far more qualified than I to address it, but I want to mention it here in part because when I asked people which fandom tropes they wanted me to talk about, this came up often, but also because I find it really disgusting that this is a thing that needs to be addressed at all. Y’all see a little girl who watched her mother be killed by the forces of an imperialist nation and say that she talks about it too much??? That is a formational, foundational event in a child’s life. Of course she’s going to talk about it. I’ve seen people say that she doesn’t talk about it that often, or that she only talks about it to connect with other victims of fn imperialism e.g. Jet and Haru, but frankly, she could speak about it every episode for no plot-significant reason whatsoever and I would still be angry to see people say she talks about it too much. And before you even bring up the Sokka comparison, people deal with grief in different ways. Sokka repressed a lot of his grief/channeled it into being the “man” of his village because he knew that they would come for Katara next if he gave them the opportunity. he probably would talk about his mother more if a) he didn’t feel massive guilt at not being able to remember what she looked like, and b) he was allowed to be a child processing the loss of his mother instead of having to become a tiny adult when Hakoda had to leave to help fight the fn. And this gets into an intersection with fandom racism, in that white fans (esp white American fans) are incapable of relating to the structural trauma that both Sokka and Katara experience and thus can’t see the ways in which structural trauma colors every single aspect of both of their characters, leading them to flatten nuance and to have some really bad takes. And you know what, speaking of bad fandom takes--

“Shitting on Mai because she gets in the way of my favorite Zuko ship is actually totally okay because she’s ~abusive~”

y’all WHAT.

ok listen, I get not liking maiko. I didn’t like it when I first got into fandom, and later I realized that while bryke cannot write romance to save their lives, fans who like maiko sure can, so I changed my tune. but if you still don’t like it, that’s fine. no skin off my back.

what IS skin off my back is taking instances in which Mai had justified anger toward Zuko, and turning it into “Mai abused Zuko.” do you not realize how ridiculous you sound? this is another thing where I get so angry about it that I don’t know how useful my analysis is actually going to be, but I’ll do my best. numerous people have noted how analysis of Mai and Zuko’s breakup in “The Beach” or Mai being justifiably angry with him at Boiling Rock or her asking for FUCKING FRUIT in “Nightmares and Daydreams” that says that all of these events were her trying to gain control over him is....ahhh...lacking in reading comprehension, but I’d like to go a step further and talk about why y’all are so intent on taking down a girl who doesn’t show emotion in normative ways. obviously, there’s a “Zuko can do no wrong” aspect to Mai criticism (which is super weird considering how his whole arc is about how he can do lots of wrong and he has to atone for the wrong that he’s done--but that’s a separate post.) But I also see slandering Mai for not expressing her emotions normatively and not putting up with Zuko’s shit and slandering Katara for “talking about her mother too often” as two sides of the same coin. In both cases, a female character expresses emotions that make you, the viewer, uncomfortable, and so instead of attempting to understand where those emotions may have come from and why they might be manifesting the way they are, y’all just throw the whole character away. this is another instance of people in the fandom being fundamentally disinterested in engaging with the female characters of atla in a real way, except instead of shallowly “stanning” Mai, y’all hate her. so we get to this point where female characters are flattened into one of two things: perfect queens who can do no wrong, or bitches. and that’s not who they are. that’s not who anyone is. but while we as a fandom are pretty good at understanding b1 Zuko’s actions as layered and multifaceted even though he’s essentially an asshole then, few are willing to lend the same grace to any female character, least of all Mai.

and what’s funny is sometimes this trope will intersect with “I conveniently ship this female character whose canon love interest is one of the members of my favorite non-canon ship with another female character! gay rights!”, so you’ll have someone actively calling Mai toxic/problematic/abusive, and at the same time ship her with Ty Lee? make it make sense! but then again, maybe that’s happening because y’all are fundamentally disinterested in Ty Lee as a character too.

“I love Ty Lee so much that I’m going to treat her like an infantilized hypersexual airhead!”

there are so many things happening in y’alls characterization of Ty Lee that I struggled to synthesize it into one quippy section header. on one hand, you have the hypersexualization, and on the other hand, you have the infantilization, which just makes the hypersexualization that much worse.

(of course, sexualizing or hypersexualizing ANY atla character is really not the move, considering that these are child characters in a children’s show, but then again, that’s a separate post.)

now, I understand how, from a very, very surface reading of the text, you could come to the conclusion that Ty Lee is an uncomplicated bimbo. if you grew up on Western media the way I did, you’ll know that Ty Lee has a lot of the character traits we associate with bimbos: the form-fitting pink crop top, the general conventional attractiveness, the ditzy dialogue. but if you think about it for more than three seconds, you’ll understand that Ty Lee has spent her whole life walking a tightrope, trying to please Azula and the rest of the royal family while also staying true to herself. Ty Lee and Azula’s relationship is a really complex and interesting topic that I don’t really have time to explore at the moment given how long this post is, but I’d argue that Ty Lee’s constant, vocal adulation is at least partially a product of learning to survive at court at an early age. Like Mai, she has been forced to regulate her emotions as a member of fn nobility, but unlike Mai, she also has six sisters who look exactly like her, so she has a motivation to be more peppy and more affectionate to stand out.

fandom does not do the work to understand Ty Lee. as is a theme with this post, fandom is actively disinterested in investigating female characters beyond a very surface level reading of them. Thus, fandom takes Ty Lee’s surface level qualities--her love of the color pink, her revealing standard outfit, and the fact that once she found a boy attractive and also once a lot of boys found her attractive--and they stretch this into “Ty Lee is basically Karen Smith from Mean Girls.” thus, Ty Lee is painted as a bimbo, or more specifically, as not smart, uncritically adoring of Azula (did y’all forget all the non-zukka bits of Boiling Rock?), and attractive to the point of hypersexualization. I saw somebody make a post that was like “I wish mailee was more popular but I’m also glad it isn’t because otherwise people would write it as Mai having to put up with her dumb gf” and honestly I have to agree!! this is one instance in which I’m glad that fandom doesn’t discuss one of my favorite characters that often because I hate the fanon interpretation of Ty Lee, I think it’s rooted in misogyny (particularly misogyny against East Asian women, which often takes the form of fetishizing them and viewing them only through a Western white male gaze)

(side note: here at army-of-mai-lovers, we stan bimbos. bimbos are fucking awesome. I personally don’t read Ty Lee as a bimbo, but if that’s you, that’s fucking awesome. keep doing what you’re doing, queen <3 or king or monarch, it’s 2021, anyone can be a bimbo, bitches <3)

“Toph can and will destroy everyone here with her bare hands because she’s a meathead who likes to murder people and that’s it!”

Toph is, and always has been, one of my favorite ATLA characters. My very first fic in fandom was about her, and she appears prominently in a lot of my other work as well. One thing that I am always struck by with Toph is how big a heart she has. She’s independent, yes, snarky, yes, but she cares about people--even the family that forced her to make herself smaller because they didn’t believe that their blind daughter could be powerful and strong. Her storyline is powerful and emotionally resonant, her bending is cool precisely because it’s based in a “wait and listen” approach instead of just smashing things indiscriminately, she’s great disabled rep, and overall one of the best characters in the show.

And in fandom, she gets flattened into “snarky murder child.”

So where does this come from? Well, as we all know, Toph was originally conceived of as a male character, and retained a lot of androgyny (or as the kids call it, Gender) when she was rewritten as a female character. There are a lot of cultural ideas about androgynous/butch women being violent, and people in fandom seem to connect that larger cultural narrative with some of Toph’s more violent moments in the show to create the meathead murder child trope, erasing her canon emotionality, softness, heart, and femininity in the process.

This is not to say that you shouldn’t write or characterize Toph as being violent or snarky at all ever, because yeah, Toph definitely did do Earth Rumbles a lot before joining the gaang, and yeah, Toph is definitely a sarcastic person who makes fun of her friends a lot. What I am saying is that people take these traits, sans the emotional logic, marry them to their conception of androgynous/butch women as violent/unemotional/uncaring, and thus create a caricature of Toph that is not at all up to snuff. When I see Toph as a side character in a fic (because yeah, Toph never gets to be a main character, because why would a fandom obsessed with one male character in particular ever make Toph a protagonist in her own right?) she’s making fun of people, killing people, pranking people, etc, etc. She’s never talking to people about her emotions, or palling around with her found family, or showing that she cares about her friends. Everything about her relationship with her parents, her disability, her relationship to Gender, and her love of her friends is shoved aside to focus on a version of Toph that is mean and uncaring because people have gotten it into their heads that androgynous/butch women are mean and uncaring.

again, we see a female character who does not emote normatively or in a way that makes you, the viewer, comfortable, and so you warp her character until she’s completely unrecognizable and flat. and for what?

Azula

no, I didn’t come up with a snappy name for this section, mainly because fanon interpretations of Azula and my own feelings toward the character are...complicated. I know there were some people who wanted me to write about Azula and the intersection of misogyny and ableism in fanon interpretations of her character, but I don’t think I can deliver on that because I personally am in a period of transition with how I see Azula. that is to say, while I still like her and believe that she can be redeemed, there is a lot of merit to disliking her. the whole point of this post is that the female characters of ATLA are complex people whom the fandom flattens into stereotypes that don’t hold up to scrutiny, or dislike for reasons that don’t make sense. Azula, however, is a different case. the rise of Azula defenders and Azula stans has led to this sentiment that Azula is a 14 y/o abuse victim who shouldn’t be held accountable for her actions. it seems to me that people are reacting to a long, horrible legacy of male ATLA fans armchair diagnosing Azula with various personality disorders (and suggesting that people with those personality disorders are inherently monstrous and unlovable which ahhhh....yikes) and then saying that those personality disorders make her unlovable, which is quite obviously bad. and hey, I get loving a character that everyone else hates and maybe getting so swept up in that love that you forget that your fave is complicated and has made some unsavory choices. it sucks that fanon takes these well-written, complex villains/antiheroes and turns them into monsters with no critical thought whatsoever. but the attitude among Azula stans that her redemption shouldn’t be hard, that her being a child excuses all of the bad things that she’s done, that she is owed redemption....all of that rubs me the wrong way. I might make another post about this in the future that discusses this in more depth, but as it stands now: while I understand that there is a legacy of misogynistic, ableist, unnuanced takes on Azula, the backlash to that does not take into account the people she hurt or the fact that in ATLA she does not make the choice to pursue redemption. and yes, Zuko had help in making that choice that Azula didn’t, and yes, Azula is a victim of abuse, but in a show about children who have gone through untold horrors and still work to better the lives of the people around them, that is not enough for me to uncritically stan her.

Conclusion

misogyny in this fandom runs rampant. while there are some tropes of fandom misogyny that are well-documented and have been debunked numerous times, there are other, subtler forms of misogyny that as far as I know have gone completely unchecked.

what I find so interesting about misogyny in atla fandom is that it’s clear that it’s perpetrated by people who are aware of fandom misogyny who are actively trying not to be misogynistic. when I first joined atla fandom last summer, memes about how zukka fandom was better than every other fandom because they didn’t hate the female characters who got in the way of their gay ship were extremely prevalent, and there was this sense that *this* fandom was going to model respectful, fun, feminist online fandom. not all of the topes I’ve outlined are exclusive to or even largely utilized in zukka fandom, but a lot of them are. I’ve been in and out of fandom since I was eleven years old, and most of the fandom spaces I’ve been in have been majority-female, and all of them have been incredibly misogynistic. and I always want to know why. why, in these communities created in large part by women, in large part for women, does misogyny run wild? what I realize now is that there’s never going to be a one-size fits all answer to that question. what’s true for 1D fandom on Wattpad in 2012 is absolutely not true for atla fandom on tumblr in 2021. the answers that I’ve cobbled together for previous fandoms don’t work here.

so, why is atla fandom like this? why did the dream of a feminist fandom almost entirely focused on the romantic relationship between two male characters fall apart? honestly, I think the notion that zukka fandom ever was this way was horrifically ignorant to begin with. from my very first moment in the fandom, I was seeing racism, widespread sexualization of minors, and yes, misogyny. these aspects of the fandom weren’t talked about as much as the crocverse or other, much more fun aspects. further, atla (specifically zukka) fandom misogyny often doesn’t look like the fandom misogyny we’ve become familiar with from like, Sherlock fandom or what have you. for the most part, people don’t actively hate Suki, they just “stan” without actually caring about her. they hate Mai because they believe in treating male victims of abuse equally. they’re not characterizing Toph poorly, they’re writing her as a “strong woman.” in short, people are misogynistic, and then invoke a shallow, incomplete interpretation of feminist theory to shield themselves from accusations of misogyny. it’s not unlike the way some people will invoke a shallow, incomplete interpretation of critical race theory to shield themselves from accusations of racism, or how they’ll talk about “freedom of speech” and “the suppression of women’s sexuality” to justify sexualizing minors. the performance of feminism and antiracism is what’s important, not the actual practice.

if you’ve made it this far, first off, hi, thanks so much for reading, I know this was a lot. second, I would seriously encourage you to be aware of these fandom tropes and to call them out when you see them. elevate the voices of fans who do the work of bringing the female characters of atla to life. invest in the wlw ships in this fandom. drop a kudos and a comment on a rangshi fic (please, drop a kudos and a comment on a rangshi fic). read some yuetara. let’s all be honest about where we are now, and try to do better in the future. I believe in us.

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writingtoforgetreality · 3 years

Text

New World Order - TFATWS Rewrite Chapter One (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

[Marvel-Masterlist], [TFATWS Rewrite-Masterlist]

Next Chapter

Summary: You were an Avenger. That was how the world viewed you. Nobody else knew about your past & it was for the better. After all, you had Sam. You had Bucky. That had to be enough. At least for now.

Words: 6,214

Warnings: language, sarcasm, expect some sort of slow burn, there are hints already, this is a Bucky fic, which means that it'll focus on his scenes more, spoilers for TFATWS, (Y/E/C) = your eye color

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

You were no superhero. At least, you would never say you were one. Your past was filled with actions you regretted. None of it was your fault. It was not your decision to be the child of the leader of a HYDRA base. It was not your decision to grow up like a warrior. Fighting. Killing.

Your father was the bad guy. You knew that now. As a child, you did not see through his facade. How could you? He was your dad. Someone who was supposed to love you endlessly. Those years had shaped you. Into the person you were today.

Deep down, you wished there was a way to make you forget. Forget about your past. Forget about the pain. Forget about it all. Hell, you were a laboratory experiment. Those powers did not come from nowhere. No. They came from tons of needles, pumping a toxic serum into you veins. You should not even be alive anymore. Not by what now flowed through your body. Apparently, it was for your own good. That was how your dad put it. Absolute bullshit. Growing up isolated from the world, being trained to fight, to kill, daily. Your own good my ass. If it did one thing, then it ruined your damn life.

But at least you had powers, right? Blue flames you could control. Those blue flames that were hotter than anything else in this world. It took an awful lot of time to fully have control. Truthfully, you hated that part of you with every fiber of your being. It had been the cause of one too many deaths. You had been the cause. But weakness was not in your nature. If you did not show strength you would be a disappointment. Something you really did not want to be.

Bucky was the reason you got out of this life. He was the one to rescue you out of this hell hole. He was the one to show you an entirely different part of this world. And for that, you could never thank him enough. If it were not for Bucky, you would have gone insane ages ago. Who knew if you were still here today?

The Avengers were aware of your past. Of you being a part of HYDRA back in the days. Yet, you had never elaborated this any further. If there was one thing you were good at, it was keeping things to yourself. No need to burden others with your struggles. And you did struggle. Every single day. Because your mind was filled with memories. Memories you had tried to burn. Memories you wanted to erase. Memories of you being the bad guy. Just like your dad had been.

Your life changed when you were introduced to the Avengers. They did not trust you. Not right away. But during the fight with Thanos, the one after the Blip, you proved yourself to be worthy of their trust. Especially Steve. He had been there for you. When everyone else failed to believe in you. He was gone now. And it hurt like hell. Giving up was never an option. And the universe did not plan on giving you a break anytime soon. For now, you had to bury your feelings as deep as possible. Your focus should solely be on the new threats of this world. Threats, that seemed to increase daily.

“Bucky is an asshole.” you were on the phone with Sam & the fact that the super soldier had been ignoring him for a while did not leave a good feeling inside his chest.

“What a revelation.” sarcastic comments were part of your life. It was your way of coping with everything. Frankly, it worked. More or less. “Give him some time.”

“More time? No.” sighing loudly. “I have other things to focus on.” he was referring to the mission he was about to perform.

“You sure you’ll be fine on your own?” it was not like you did not believe in his abilities. Just, life had not been the same ever since billions of people came back.

“When have I ever not been?” you could think of a few times but Sam ended the call before you even had the chance to answer. Typical.

Luckily, Sam usually told you about his missions. And you were proud of him. You really were. The situation you found yourself in? With Bucky & him? Well, it was everything but good. Bucky called you. You called Sam. Sam called you. You called Bucky. A circle you kept alive. And it sucked to be their only way of communication. For now, though, both of them were too stubborn to change anything about it.

“Enjoying the Tunisian sun I hope?” whenever Sam went on a mission, you had him call you after it. Simply because he knew you worried.

“You know it.” in the far background you could hear him working on something.

“Is everyone alright? That trainee of yours? What’s his name again?”

“Torres.” he sighed, frustrated by your question. You had asked him about a million times & apparently, you still had no clue. Truth was, you just liked messing with him. “Redwing is hurt.”

“Naaaw, poor baby.” giggling slightly. That man cared more for a piece of tech than he should.

“Shut up.” okay, better not mess with Wilson if it came to Redwing. Got it.

“When are you coming back?” your voice turned serious again. Having him gone for so long did not stick right with you. Obviously, you knew he was doing it for the greater good. But still. “I swear to all the Gods, if you say when we’re done here…” mumbling quietly but loud enough for him to hear.

“When we’re finished here.” a chuckle could be heard from his side. By the way it sounded, you assumed Torres was laughing as well. Rolling your eyes at his antics. He could be such a child sometimes.

“Oh, fuck off, Wilson.”

“Hey, language!” Sam had fun. Yeah, you were the one cracking jokes all of the time but he could deliver, too.

“Okay, you know what? Bye. Text me when you’re back.” now, it was you who did not give him enough time to respond. After all, he would have clapped back with another snarky remark & you were not in the mood for it. At all.

“Steve represented the best in all of us. Courageous, righteous, hopeful. And he mastered posing stoically.” everyone chuckled at Sam’s description. Of him. Steve. Rhodey was standing right next to you. In that suit of his. The one that made him look way more approachable than you. No need for people to approach you. They did not know who you were before. And they sure as hell did not need to. It would turn things complicated. Humans did not like complicated. You did not like it. “The world has been forever changed. A few months ago, billions of people reappeared after five years away, sending the world into turmoil. We need new heroes. Ones suited for the times we’re in. Symbols are nothing without the women & men that give them meaning. And this thing…” he paused briefly, let out a short chuckle. The shield. “I don’t know if there’s ever been a greater symbol. But it’s more about the man who propped it up, & he’s gone. So, today we honor Steve’s legacy. But also, we look to the future. So, thank you, Captain America. But this belongs to you.” the crowd erupted into cheers. Applause was filling the room & you felt out of place. What was he doing? When Sam asked you to join him here today, he left out the fact that he wanted to give away the shield. The shield Steve had trusted him enough to own. And the people surrounding you? They…celebrated him for it? This entire speech was proof enough that Wilson was worthy of this job. So why the hell did he make that decision? Watching the shield being put into the showcase, you could hardly hold in the tears that formed at the corners of your (Y/E/C) eyes. Rhodey nudged you, sensing that something was wrong. Head hanging low, you ignored him, walking out of the room as fast as possible. If you stayed here any longer, Sam would have bruises for sure. Bruises caused by you. You would not risk that. Though, he kind of deserved it.

“Where’s (Y/N)?” Sam asked Rhodey when he finished with the press. You had told him you would wait here for him. There was no sign of you.

“Left a while ago.”

“What do you mean “Left a while ago.”? Did she say where she was heading?” why did you decide to leave? Had anything happened while he held his speech? All Rhodey could do was shrug. An explanation was not given by you. And he knew better than to ask.

“Take a walk?” Rhodey suggested, completely unaware to your weird behavior. The two of you were not that close. So he did not know you like Sam did. You were an adult, after all. If you wanted to go somewhere without asking someone first, then you were allowed to do that.

Disappointment was flooding through your body. Friends told each other stuff like that, right? So why did he keep it a secret that he planned on giving away the shield. With that action, he broke Steve’s trust & you were livid. If only Steve were here right now. You missed him. So much. Next time Sam met you, you could not promise anything. Because anger was all you felt. Anger & disappointment. Grief. But that one you could keep to yourself. At least for the time being. Shit. Bucky. One hundred percent did he watch Sam giving away the shield. Oh, he would be filled with hatred. Compared to that, you were only a small threat. Bucky was the one Wilson should keep an eye on. Well, he had been trying to get a hold of him. So far, without luck.

A gunshot blasting woke Bucky up from another night invaded by nightmares. His changed hair did not put his demons at bay. His look was different but there were some things he could never get rid of. His past. The past he dreaded as much as you did. Probably what you two had in common. Being part of HYDRA & all. His breathing was irregular & there was no way in hell he could go back to sleep. It was in the middle of the night & he hated himself for relying on someone else. But he would go insane if he did not call another person right now. If he did not call you. The only one who seemed to understand what he was going through. The only one who never judged him because of his nightmares. The only one who made him feel like he was a good person. Not the killer he once had been. When HYDRA controlled him. Back, when he was called “The Winter Soldier”. Would he ever move on from that? Grabbing his old phone, he did not overthink too long & dialed your number. One, he knew by heart. Because he had called you so many times. It stuck in his head.

“Buck? Is everything alright?” concern was present in your voice. Usually, when you got a call in the middle of the night, it was him. And you were fine with it. If he trusted you enough to help him with his demons, than you were more than happy to come to his aid. No matter the time.

“I-I…it’s just, ugh, I-“ still shaken up from his nightmare, you did not need him to finish his sentence. You had been in this exact situation so many times. You knew what he needed. Your presence. Your voice. Your comfort. You.

“I’ll be there in a few.” assuring him, you were already grabbing the stuff you needed & walked out of your apartment. Only one destination in mind. Him. “Do you need me to stay on the phone?” it was a simple question. A stupid one, too. Usually, he would not say a word until you were with him. But it felt right to ask him what he wanted you to do. Needed you to do. When he did not answer for a few moments, you guessed he only nodded, not realizing that you could not see his motions. Yet, he did not hang up. Neither did you. Your breathing was enough for him. At least until you were in his apartment.

Knocking softly, as to not wake his neighbors, the door opened almost immediately after. Squeaking ever so slightly. Taking in his appearance, you could tell that it had been a bad nightmare. No, not a nightmare. A memory. You knew that because it was the reason you woke up most nights as well. If it were not for him feeling miserable, you would have drooled by the sight of him. No shirt. Hair sticking around so beautifully. Eyes you could lose yourself in. But it was not the right timing. Besides, Bucky & you were just friends. That was it. Just friends. Though, you would lie if you said that you did not feel butterflies whenever he shot you one of his charming smiles. Whenever his body brushed against yours on accident. Yes, he did have that effect on you. Hell, that was not what he needed right now. Your feelings could be dealt with later on. Bucky was all who mattered now. There was no conversation. No words exchanged. It was enough for him if you were with him. A sign that he was not alone. That he still had you. Even after everything. Even after calling you, night after night, disturbing your own rest. Not that you got much to begin with but he did not need to know that. It had always been a mystery to him. Why you stuck around still. Though you had assured him thousands of times that you were in this for good. If he needed you, you were only one call away. And he appreciated you for it. More than he would ever like to admit. Friends. You were friends.

“So, Mr. Barnes, are you still having nightmares?” another session with Dr. Raynor. Another dreaded session. It was stupid to Bucky. But there was no way out of this. He had to. Seconds of silence went by before she spoke up again. “James, I asked you a question. Are you still having nightmares?” what kind of question was that? A stupid one. That was for sure.

“No.” simple, short. Sufficient. Not for his doctor, though.

“We’ve been doing this long enough that I can tell when you’re lying. Well, you seem a little off today. Did something happen recently?”

“No.” what an answer to move this session forward. Clearly, he was not in the mood to talk today. Not even you were able to get his mind off of things. Though, you definitely made his night easier.

“You’re a civilian now. With your history, the government needs to know that you’re not gonna…” her hand motioned stabbing. Awful action but who were you to judge? Bucky nodded with that look on his face that showed how completely done he was with this situation. Yet, she kept going. “It’s a condition of your pardon. So, tell me about your most recent nightmare.”

“I didn’t have a nightmare.” well, it was worth a try. After taking a deep breath, she grabbed the pencil, ready to start writing into that notebook of hers again. “Oh, come on. Really? You’re gonna do the notebook thing? Why? It’s passive aggressive.” looked like the two of them were going back to the roots.

“You don’t talk. I write.” Bucky sighed at that. He knew he would not get out of this.

“Okay. Okay. I crossed a name off the list of my amends yesterday. Don’t worry. I used all your three rules. Senator Atwood. She was a HYDRA pawn for years. Helped her get into office when I was the Winter Soldier. And after HYDRA disbanded, she continued to abuse the power I gave her.”

“So, rule number one, you can’t do anything illegal.”

“All I did was give some intel to the aide to convict her. And I wasn’t involved in anything else.”

“Rule number two?”

“What was rule number two?” his gaze drifting off, showing he thought about it deeply. How ironic.

“Nobody gets hurt. It’s a big one.”

“Then why isn’t it rule number one?” he did have a point there. No room left for arguing about that. “I didn’t hurt anybody. I promise.”

“And what about rule number three?” Bucky’s mouth opened, yet, nothing came out. “The whole point of making amends is to fulfil rule number three.”

“You know, you’re a cynic, Doc. Of course, I completed rule number three. I am James Bucky Barnes & you’re part of my efforts to make amends.” words followed by that smile of his. That smile everyone could tell was fake. Almost creepy. But efforts, right? It was all about the efforts.

“So, you did it all right, but it didn’t help with the nightmares.”

“Well, like I said, I didn’t have any.” Bucky Barnes, everyone. Still trying to fool his doctor.

“Look, one day, you’re gonna have to open up & understand that some people really do want to help you & that they can be trusted. People like (Y/N).” the mention of your name made his eyes snap up.

“I trust more people than her.” it sounded more like he tried to convince himself more than anyone else.

“Yeah? Give me your phone.” an order. Grabbing it out of his pocket to hand it over. A short look was enough. “You don’t have ten phone numbers on this thing. Oh, & you’ve been ignoring the texts from Sam. Look, you gotta nurture friendships. I am the only person you have called all week. That is so sad…Oh, that’s not right. You called (Y/N) last night. Anything you wanna tell me about that?” closing the flip phone, she threw it over to Bucky which he caught with ease.

“What? Do I need to justify calling a friend?” chuckling & shaking his head slightly, he brushed his hands over his thighs.

“If you call that friend at 3 am, then yes. Because you should sleep at that time. Except if you had a nightmare which you claimed that you didn’t.”

“We just talked. That’s all.” he thought that brushing it off as if it were nothing was enough to get her to shut up. Hell, he had brought you up during his sessions way too many times. After all, he still wanted the situation between you guys to be subtle.

“You’re alone.”

“A minute ago, you said I had (Y/N).” he tried arguing but his attempts failed.

“You’re a hundred years old. You have no history, no family…” right, pouring salt in the wounds. That usually worked.

“Are you lashing out at me, Doc? Because that’s really unprofessional, you know? When did that start? Yelling at your clients?” she seemed to have enough & again went for the little book next to her. “Oh, the notebook. That’s great.” sighing deeply, he braced himself to take her more seriously. “All right, give me a break. I’m trying, okay? This isn’t…This is new for me. I didn’t have a moment to deal with anything, you know? I had a little…calm in Wakanda. And other than that, I just went from one fight to another for 90 years.”

“So, now that you’ve stopped fighting, what do you want?” he had an answer in mind right away. Never ever would he say it out loud. It took him a second to reply. Because what he was about to say came in union with his first thought.

“Peace.”

“That is utter bullshit.” what a nice way to bad talk his answer. Maybe she was expecting something else from him. Maybe she knew the answer just as much as he did. The real answer.

“You’re a terrible shrink.”

“I was an excellent soldier, so I saw a lot of dead bodies, & I know how that can shut you down. And if you are alone…”

“Which I’m not because I have (Y/N).”

“…that is the quietest, most personal hell. And, James, it is very hard to escape. Look, I know that you have been through a lot, but you’ve got your mind back, you are being pardoned. I mean, these are good things. You’re free.”

“To do what?”

Wednesday. Bucky usually went to Izzy. Today, he asked you to join him & Yori. Why he wanted you there with them? No clue. But it was not often he asked you to go somewhere with him so you agreed on meeting them there.

“Take a look.” Yori was a cute, old man. Reading his newspaper like a good citizen. Bucky had yet to give you an explanation as to why you were here right now. But for now, you just sat next to him, quietly observing your surroundings. “Nobody made it past 90 this week.” it was funny, to see Bucky trying his hardest to sound interested. Like he understood.

“So young. Such a shame.” his words made you scoff. Apparently, once you hit the 100 mark, you turn into a sarcastic piece. If you were not one before. If you ever made it to 100? Only the Gods knew what would come after that. Most people called you a sarcastic asshole now. Could that be topped?

“You guys didn’t order the usual, huh? Feeling a little adventurous?” the woman behind the counter directed her words at the three of you.

“Um, actually, I’ve never been here before, so…” you chuckled to avoid the awkwardness that would sure as hell build if you kept quiet now.

“You should ask her out.” Yori leaned over to Bucky & you almost choked on your food at his words. Bucky asking her out? Her? Yeah, she was beautiful & all. But her? Really? Seemed like that Yori dude did not know Bucky as well as he claimed to. You, on the other hand, were aware that nothing good would come out if it. Besides, they would not even make a nice couple. Shit, were you jealous? Oh no. Glancing over at the man next to you, his face showed just how much he despised this idea. At least something.

“Mm-mmm…” shaking his head frantically, he shot you a quick look but before his eyes locked onto yours, your gaze fell down to your plate. Slightly embarrassed. Scared that, if he looked at you, he would notice something behind your look. Something more. Something, that you wanted to keep hidden. For everyone’s sake.

“He would like to take you out on a date.” oh fuck off, Yori. You had nothing against this man but he was pushing your buttons. Could he not see that Bucky was incredibly uncomfortable with the idea of going on a date? With her? “Maybe to bingo or a night of pinochle.” hiding your laugh behind one of your hands, you could not believe that he was serious. Bucky & bingo? Well, it was for old people so you guessed it fit quite well. Not with her, though. Oh no, you really were jealous.

“I’m really sorry about him.” Bucky apologized for his friend’s behavior. Yes, you were sorry for him, too.

“Why are you sorry?” of course, now the woman was flirting with him. It got better & better. Taking a deep breath, you tried to keep your emotions at bay. You could not lash out in the middle of this restaurant, after all. Even though you were this close to doing just that. Deep breaths, you got this. “I’m game.” sure she was.

“Wow.” really? Bucky was impressed? By this? Oh come on, why would he settle for less when he could have so, so much more. But it was not your decision. He was not yours. You did not own him. Neither did you make the decisions for him.

“Tomorrow night, then?” Yori leaned over the counter.

“Tomorrow night’s great.” she replied with a bright smile.

“Hey, I just remembered something.” you spoke up all of a sudden. Bucky’s eyes met yours now & he saw that you were uncomfortable. Though, he could not pinpoint why. “Um, I-I need to go. See you, Buck. Bye guys.” sprinting out of the restaurant, you hoped nobody would follow you. Not in the mood to deal with anyone right now. All you wanted was to be alone right now. Your mind the only one keeping you company. But your mind was not really the kindest to you. Not in this particular moment. So what? Bucky had a date. You knew that would happen sooner or later. He was a good looking man. More importantly, you just wanted him to be happy. Genuinely happy.

Fucking great. Who could you talk to? You still were not done being mad at Sam. And now you were mad at Bucky for something he did not even do. He sort of did. He could have said no. If he really did not want to, he could have said no. Bucky was enough of a man to speak his mind, you knew that. Maybe he did want to go on a date with her. What was her name again? Not that you cared too much. But still. Blinking away the tears that had formed at the corners of your eyes, you kept on walking. Without a real destination. You were stupid. Friends. Why could you not accept this? Usually, you would call Steve in such a situation. Or even Tony. But it was too late now. They were not here anymore. You had to deal with that sooner or later. Whether you liked it or not. Contemplating calling Sam, you eyed your phone carefully. One more button. But nope. The anger was bigger than the need to talk to someone. Stubborn you. Wilson could make you feel better. But you would most likely end up yelling at him. And you knew you would regret your words later on. So might as well stay silent for the time being. Until you calmed down enough.

It was 10 pm. Date time for Bucky. That same restaurant. Being the gentleman that we was, he even brought her flowers. Like it used to be back in the 40s.

“Well, if that’s not the most adorably old-fashioned thing anyone’s ever done.” Bucky felt lost. In her company. “Grab a seat, I’ll be done in a few.”

“Okay.” he could up & leave. It would not be too late. All he knew was that it felt wrong.

“So, have you dated much since half the fish in the sea came back?”

“Not really. I, um…tried the whole online dating thing. (Y/N), the girl who was here with me yesterday, she set up a profile for me because I didn’t understand a single thing.” laughing at the memory, he thought back to when he called you to ask you for a favor. How you laughed at him for wanting to try this whole bullshit. “It’s pretty crazy. A lot of weird pictures.”

“What kind of weird?”

“I mean, tiger photos? Half the time I don’t even know what I’m looking at. It’s…It’s a lot. When I showed (Y/N), she simply said that this was what I signed up for.”

“You sound like my dad.” definitely something a man did not want to hear while on a date. On the other hand, he did not even want this to be a date. “Wait. How old are you?

“A hundred & six.” only he could make it sound so casually. Like it was the most normal thing on this planet. Both laughed at his words. Simply because it was so absurd.

“What’s up with your big gloves?” a sensitive topic she just touched.

“I, um, have, uh…poor circulation.” sure thing.

“Hmm…Hey, what is it about this (Y/N) girl & you?” his eyes widened at her question. What was she getting at?

“She’s my friend. Why?” his dumbfounded expression made her chuckle.

“A friend, huh?”

“Um, yeah.”

“You sure about that?” an eyebrow raised. A questioning stare was sent his way.

“Why does everyone think I don’t have friends?” throwing his head back in frustration, he let out a long sigh.

“It’s not that.” she stopped briefly, thinking about her next words carefully. “Just, you guys seem pretty close.”

“Well, we’ve known each other for years.” he reasoned, gesturing with his hands to bring his point across.

“Yeah? And the looks you’re shooting each other when the other one’s not looking?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You two aren’t really subtle about this, you know?” she wiped the counter & did not even look at Bucky. He, on the other hand, started sweating.

“Subtle about what?”

“Oh, come on. Who are you kidding? I don’t even know why you’re here right now.”

“Because Yori set you & me up on a date.”

“And why did you agree?” she crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for an explanation from the man in front of her.

“I-I don’t know.” he responded truthfully. Because he thought it to be polite? Because Yori was the one who suggested it? Honestly, he was not sure.

“That’s what I thought. Look, you’re a nice guy & all but…just, listen to your heart from time to time. It’s late. You should head out. See you.” she turned around & walked further into the restaurant. Leaving Bucky alone with his thoughts. It was clear what she intended. Did not mean that it made this entire situation any easier. Bucky left without another word. Fresh air would help him think straight.

Your phone rang & you sighed when you checked who decided to annoy you. Bucky. Of course. But wait. Should he not be on his date right now? Did something go wrong? Not that you wanted it to but if you were entirely honest, you would not be mad about it either.

“Hi Buck. What’s up?”

“I need your help with something.” there was no hesitation in his voice. Just him being straight forward.

“Please don’t tell me you need help on how to get the girl.” it was your way to lighten the mood. You did that because you could tell that he was incredibly serious. Usually, this was never a good sign.

“Can I send you an address? Can you meet me there as soon as possible?” his voice was low, deep.

“Um, sure thing. But just to set things clear…I won’t join in on your fun, Buck. That’s between you & her.” again, sarcasm was your way of coping with emotions. Though, it was not the right time to use it right now. His next words were proof enough. You should not mess with him. Not in this moment.

“Can you be serious for a second?” he raised his voice a little. It was not much but it was enough to leave you confused. Bucky was not the person to yell at you. Especially not like this.

“I’m sorry…Um, yeah, tell me where & I’ll get there as fast as I can.” gulping down, you waited for him to give you more information.

Arriving at an unfamiliar building, you could make out Bucky’s form in front of it. Why would he want to meet you here? Where was his date?

“Buck?” your voice barely above a whisper. The night sky only illuminated by the moon that shone brightly. Providing just a tiny bit of light. Enough, to let you notice your surroundings.

“Thanks for coming.” you could tell that he was stressed, tough, you were not sure why.

“Is everything alright? Because I swear, if that woman did anyth-“

“No, she didn’t. Promise.” his warm smile was encouraging enough. It was clear that he was not lying to you. “Just…didn’t work out. But that’s not why you’re here.”

“Okay?”

“My last nightmare. Do you remember?” nodding for him to continue. “How I killed that innocent man?”

“It wasn’t you, Buck. You were being controlled.” touching his shoulder softly, squeezing it to reassure him.

“Whatever…That guy, it was Yori’s son. I want to, need to, apologize. Even though the apology comes way too late.” you nodded at him, your eyes meeting his briefly. Now you knew why he called you. He did not want to do this alone. No. He wanted you by his side. To support him through it. Entering the building together, Bucky led you to the apartment Yori lived in. His hand raised to knock on the door. Surprisingly, he did not waste any time. He wanted to get this over with. Understandingly so. No words were exchanged. You being here, with him, that was more than enough.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Yori opened the door, his face showed confusion by the appearance of you two. “How was the date?” you could not help but roll your eyes at the old man in front of you. Looking at Bucky, you were worried when you saw him having an internal conversation with himself. Mouth opening & closing again. No words coming out. Risking a look inside the apartment, you noticed a small picture frame with who you assumed to be his son. The one Bucky killed. No. The one the Winter Soldier killed.

“It was…It was good.” Bucky mumbled.

“Bullshit.” you followed after. None of them heard you, though. Luckily.

“Forgot I owed you for lunch.” Bucky handed him money. If you were not mistaken, this was not a form of apologizing. He had a hard time, though, that much was obvious. Afterwards, Bucky turned around & walked away without another word. Which left you alone with a confused looking Yori.

“I’m sorry for the disturbance, sir. Have a good night.” plastering on the sweetest smile you could offer, you followed Bucky outside. Jogging to keep up with the super soldier.

Back outside, you saw Bucky holding his little notebook in his hands. You knew about it. Because you were the only person he talked to when it came to his therapy sessions. A look over his shoulder could tell that his eyes were trained on the name being circled. His body was tense. That was not what he planned.

“It’s okay, Bucky.” your hand stroked over his lower back in a comforting way. Your forehead rested against his shoulder, hoping, that it would ease him a little. You could feel him calm down at your touch. “Give yourself some time.” you mumbled quietly, knowing he could hear you clearly due to the calm night. You just hoped that he would not beat himself up too much. Not more than he already did.

You were back in your own apartment. Still no words from Sam. But that was nothing new. Sometimes, he would go radio silent for a few days but after that, he would always check in with you. Maybe he figured that you were mad at him. For giving away the shield & all. And he probably was busy with work. The work he did with Torres. If he needed your help, he would call you for sure. Your TV got your attention again. Something told you to watch closely. So you did.

“Unrest, in the wake of recent events, has left us vulnerable. Every day Americans feel it. While we love heroes who put their lives on the line to defend Earth, we also need a hero to defend this country. We need a real person who embodies America’s greatest values. We need someone to inspire us again, someone who can be a symbol for all of us. So, on behalf of the Department of Defense & our Commander-in-Chief, it is with great honor that we announce here today that the United States of America has a new hero. Join me in welcoming your new Captain America.” the crowd cheered loudly & someone walked through the door. You could not believe what was happening. Please, this had to be a bad dream. When would you wake up form this hell? A man, wearing his suit, holding his shield, greeted the people. Looking at your hands, you could see small, blue sparks forming at the tips of your fingers. That only ever happened when you had no control over your emotions. Right now, you were everything but in control. Of course he had to wink at the camera like the sick person he was.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me…” breathing out lowly, you put your head into your hands, completely ignoring the sparks there. You did not feel them anyway. If you ever met this son of a bitch it would not end well for him. And the next time you would meet Wilson? Fingers crossed he could deal with your angry & disappointed self. Because you were seething.

~to be continued~

Next Chapter

Published (04/02/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @taina-eny, @tanyaherondale, @cool-ultra-nerd, @toribentleyva, @buckyandlokirunmylife, @annadier, @howlongtillidie, @mizz-kraziii, @theetherealbloom, @millenniumloki, @marvelbros-oneshots, @ajbwasnthere, @bilesxbilinskixlahey, @mystictimetravelcolor, @dbrees256, @sxpxrnxturxl, @dreamydreamerwriting, @dolllstyles, @angelicastiel, @prettysbliss, @infinitelyforgotten, @sweetserendipity65, @lilystilinskicullen, @partypoisonsblog, @btdsprayberry, @sarai-ibn-la-ahad, @deamus-liv, @simplybarnes, @sethcohenluvr (let me know if you wanna be tagged <3)

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

Text

I am briefly pausing my normal RWBY content to talk about something completely different: Kang Soo-Jin.

I binged True Beauty recently. As in, “I haven’t managed to watch anything new in half a year, discovered this drama, and promptly marathoned 14+ hours of content,” so to say I’m enjoying it is an understatement. I might do another post sometime about why I think the show works so well, but for now, like many (drama only) viewers, I’m specifically grappling with Soo-Jin’s descent into antagonist territory. At first I was just as shocked and disappointed as others seem to be, but upon reflection I don’t think this is badly written in the way many fans are claiming. To frame this as, “I can’t believe they would make wonderful Soo-Jin suddenly OOC and bully Ju-Kyung over a guy!” is ignoring core parts of her character. I’m as sick of the girl-hates-girl-over-guy plotline as the next viewer, but in the interest of acknowledging that there are exceptions to every rule, I think this is one of the times where that choice makes perfect sense.

Soo-Jin has been abused throughout her life and I’m not simply talking about the fact that her father hits her. Though that’s obviously horrific, what I think is more pertinent to this conversation is the intense competitiveness her parents have instilled in her. The physical abuse comes about because Soo-Jin fails (in their eyes) to be the best, which is where Ju-Kyung comes in. The Soo-Jin we knew in earlier episodes wasn’t faking. She isn’t an inherently evil person who was just waiting for the right time to show her true colors. Rather, at the start of the story Ju-Kyung—crucially—was not in competition with Soo-Jin. Or rather, Soo-Jin did not perceive her as competition. She’s after the best grades in the school and Ju-Kyung is notoriously at the bottom of the class. All she has going for her are her (new) looks and her easy-going personality that makes her popular, two things that Soo-Jin isn’t interested in. Even if she were, those things already come naturally to her too. She’s already friends with Soo-A and, as is commented on multiple times, naturally beautiful without any makeup on. Soo-Jin has been taught—literally had it beaten into her—that she must be the best and in the beginning of the show she pretty much is: popular, mature, confident, smart… just not the smartest in her class. Ju-Kyung doesn’t threaten any of that, so friendship initially comes easily for Soo-Jin, the sort of friendship that allows her to chase perverts off busses or hide her friend’s real face.

This changes once Soo-Jin’s “perfect” mask begins to slip. They’re heading towards college, she’s running out of time, and she still hasn’t managed to take the top spot in the class. Worse, she drops out of the top ten. This exacerbates the abuse to the point where, as we see, she’s constantly in the bathroom trying to cope by washing her hands. Any tiny deviation from that “perfection” — like, say, leaving your tutoring session when you realize your lifelong friend just got devastating news — results in the sort of yelling/physical abuse she can only escape from via a locked door. While things get worse on her end, they get better on Ju-Jyung’s. Her grades go up some and she becomes even more popular, attracting not only school-wide attention, but the attention of the two hottest guys too, including Soo-Ho. For a while this is still fine from Soo-Jin’s perspective, but things really take a turn when Ju-Kyung changes Soo-Ho. Meaning, she helps him come out of his shell and teaches him how to be a kinder person… which includes being a better friend to Soo-Jin. The Soo-Ho who suddenly lies and announces that they have to go study just to get Soo-Jin away from her father’s insults, all of it stemming from a small tick he paid attention to, or comforting her while she sobs over the abuse… that Soo-Ho didn’t exist at the story’s start. He was too wrapped up in his own grief and has been that way for a long time. They may have known each other since childhood, but Soo-Jin and Soo-Ho don’t appear to be particularly close in the past—all Soo-Ho’s flashbacks are with Seo-Joon and Se-Yeon. But that starts to change once Soo-Ho himself changes. Soo-Jin’s ability to keep it together is unraveling, Soo-Ho is opening up and becoming more emotionally available (something Soo-Jin even comments on), then her whole class starts eagerly talking up how good they would be as a couple… so Soo-Jin sees a lifeline. Soo-Ho will care for her even when no one else will. Of course he will. She’s already seen him be that person multiple times.

The problem is that Soo-Ho has his own life and his own problems to grapple with. Between grief over See-Yeon, panic over telling Ju-Kyung how he feels, and the initial rush of dating—what couple doesn’t want to spend all their time together at the start?—he doesn’t have much energy for Soo-Jin. Which from his perspective is fine. They don’t normally hang out together outside of study groups, so yeah, he can put off a conversation with her… not realizing that Soo-Jin is now putting all her emotional eggs in his basket. By the time her feelings are coming to light, Soo-Jin is actively sabotaging her own attempts to get attention and compassion from Soo-Jin. By manipulating them—here’s a new scrunchy to remind you that you’re my best friend and you can’t ever betray me, here I am showing up unannounced at your apartment and guilting you into not spending more time with me, etc.—Soo-Jin has put Soo-Ho (rightfully) on his guard. He’s wary of having a private conversation with her about something she won’t name when he knows Ju-Kyung has been a mess over losing her friendship. He has no desire to listen to her confession of love after she’s just tossed Ju-Kyung’s beloved necklace into the fire. In her efforts to ensure that Soo-Ho pays attention to her, she only succeeds in driving him away.

All of which makes Ju-Kyung the enemy in her eyes. The new competition. To her mind, friendship and love cannot co-exist because Ju-Kyung stands in the way of that love, therefore one has got to go. (In contrast Seo-Joon, coming from a loving family, is in time better able to accept that he can be friends with Soo-Ho even though he likes Ju-Kyung. We can discuss the problems inherent in giving one plot to the girl and the other to the guy, but as they are, these characters have concrete, in-world reasons for their different reactions to what’s essentially the same situation.) And why does love (“love”) win out over friendship? Because Soo-Jin has latched onto Soo-Ho being her boyfriend as the way to finally “win” at life and fix all her problems. It’s fine if she’s not the best provided she’s dating the best, just look at how much Dad fawned over him. Second place academically is suddenly an option provided the top student is on her team, so to speak. The fact that Soo-Ho is also one of the most handsome, a great athlete, super rich, and one of the few people to provide her with feelings of safety certainly doesn’t hurt matters. And the only thing that stands in her way of securing this life-saving “win” is Ju-Kyung. Who is she? No one compared to Soo-Jin. Her grades are terrible. She’s not wealthy. She’s pretty… but oh, only with her makeup on.

Soo-Jin doesn’t need makeup, so why not win this competition by showing the whole school—showing Soo-Ho—what a fraud Ju-Kyung is?

From Soo-Jin’s perspective she’s done the math and come out on top. Everything that (supposedly) matters she either has equal to Ju-Kyung, or is superior, therefore it’s obvious that Soo-Ho would choose her in the end. She says at much: If I had confessed first you would have loved me first, so now that I have confessed you’ll break up with her. Hell, even Ju-Kyung believes this. She has the nightmare about Soo-Ho learning that Soo-Jin has feelings for him and immediately, publicly breaking up with her. After all, if he suddenly has both as an option the winner is obvious, right? It’s all about competition, what they’ve been taught to believe is a competition: Ju-Kyung through her bullying and Soo-Jin through her abuse. The difference is that Ju-Kyung has had the whole series with Soo-Ho (and others) helping her slowly unlearn this mentality. Soo-Jin had the rug pulled out from under her in an instant.

Soo-Ho says no, I wouldn’t have loved you if you had confessed first and I’m not going to date you now. It’s important to realize that this shatters Soo-Jin’s entire world. It’s not about a girl being upset that she can’t get the guy — not even about Soo-Ho as an individual, really — it’s about an abused girl not knowing how to grapple with the fact that she finally did everything “right” and still couldn’t “win,” coupled with losing the last bit of security she had. Soo-Ho broke the unspoken rules Soo-Jin’s father beat into her and she doesn’t know where to go from there. She literally has no one else to turn to. So she falls back on the only way she does know how to handle a situation like this: by still trying to win. If Soo-Ho won’t admit that she’s better, she’ll force him to realize that by plastering Ju-Kyung’s “ugly” face all over social media. Which, to be clear, isn’t an excuse. This isn’t meant to be a way of absolving Soo-Jin of her absolutely horrific actions, only a means of explaining them. Her descent, while shocking to those of us who loved her initial character, is well written because it’s a nuanced look at what can happen when you abuse a kid her whole life and teach her that competition is everything. Oddly enough, she’ll apply a competitive outlook to everything and deal with her stress in unhealthy ways. Ju-Kyung is a victim of Soo-Jin now, but Soo-Jin is a victim too. Her home life has ensured that she does not know how to accept failure—or what true failure even means—so it was inevitable that when things got bad, she’d try to fix it in ways that hurt both her and those around her. It’s all she knows how to do.

So far less “Perfect girl goes ooc and abandons her friend over a boy” and far more “Abused girl falls into a terrible, but predictable cycle that the other stressed high schoolers around her are not equipped to break.” Soo-Jin’s story isn’t bad writing, it’s tragic. Thanks for coming to my three page TED talk ✌️

***

2/4/21 FINALE UPDATE!

#abuse tw #true beauty #kang soojin #mymetas #true beauty spoilers

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lunaastoir · 3 years

Text

cute things i think the genshin characters would do

characters included: diluc, kaeya, venti, and albedo

****minor lore spoilers for diluc!****

an: i’m thinking of making this into a series bc this was such an adorable concept to write so lmk if you’re interested 👀 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

diluc

sorry kind of starting off with something a little sad

i think diluc would have a habit of rubbing his vision

ok seems kinda dumb at first but let me elaborate:

after the death of his father, diluc was quite obviously devastated

he basically withdrew into himself after letting all the grief, pain, and rage flood his senses

i think during this time of grieving, he would’ve developed this habit of running the pads of his fingers across his vision to calm himself down

(v similar to katara from atla)

since his father had always been proud of diluc’s vision, the thought of touching something that reminded him of his father has always been able to bring him some sort of relief no matter how short lived

it serves as a constant memory of his dad and i think being able to have that kind of connection - no matter how small would hold a significance to him

stressed? you’ll see his fingers dance across his vision as the crease between his eyebrows gradually loosens

ok here’s a bonus habit (bc the previous one was sad)

whenever he’s bartending at angel’s share, he always flips the bottles in this cool bartending way before pouring the drinks

like the whole shabang - flips in the air, shakes it in a way that the drink foams just right

people are usually v surprised when they see this bc woah mans has got some sKILLS

but also bc he’s known for being pretty serious and reserved so seeing a “trick” is kind of breaking the stoic image they have of him

after he’s done pouring the drinks he’s also really precise about closing the bottles

he makes sure that the caps are on tightly and that nothing is leaking (which ig is another reason why he does flips with them so he can make sure that the bottles are tightly closed)

yes he’s rich but he also wants to make sure the drinks don’t go bad bc 1) kind of a loss if they do and 2) his customers deserve the best

sweet man pls protect him <3

kaeya

when he’s sitting down at his desk, he brings his legs up so he can sit on his chair criss- cross applesauce

since he’s in his office and the only other person who’s in there with him is jean, he feels like he can drop the suave, charming cavalry captain facade he puts on when he’s in public and just dial it down slightly to who he really is in that moment

jean doesn’t say a word the entire time even tho she quite obviously notices

don’t get me wrong, he’s still the smooth talking kaeya but just,,, more relaxed and comfortable?? if that makes sense

so since he’s a lot more comfortable in his office, he usually folds his legs into his chair bc damn they hurt from walking around all day

this is kinda dumb but i also think he has a lot of ink stains on his hands from writing so whenever he sees a fresh one he just likes to stamp it onto a piece of paper

usually that piece of paper ends up being an unimportant report that goes to jean

dw he also has a bunch of pretty small towels in his bottom drawer that he uses to wipe his hands on bc the public can’t see the pretty cavalry captain w ink stains!! the world would end!!

oH kind of a side note but i also think he would keep a small folded up picture of something klee drew him in his pocket

he thinks it’s very sweet and he periodically takes it out just to look at it soft for this man

last one for kaeya but since he wears boots that have the little lip on the bottom (not really a heel but enough to make some noise) he makes sure to always try his best to walk quietly around the streets of mondstadt at night

if anyone catches him doing it he’ll wave it off and say something like “oh me? i’m just practicing my stealth - it comes in handy when you have to sneak up on enemies you know?” but in reality that’s just bs

he really just doesn’t wanna risk waking people up <3

venti

this adorable man is obviously notorious for drinking

he loves alcohol!! i mean he’s the anemo archon of the city of wine and freedom so is anyone really surprised 💀

anyways venti always jokes abt not having any mora (he really doesn’t he’s not wrong) but he always makes sure to pay his tab at angel’s share

the only reason diluc lets him drink sm is because at the end of the day, venti always comes through w the mora

he really is a talented bard so everything he makes in singing and composing music for other people to listen to always goes straight to angel’s share (debatable if that’s for the best or not but i’ll leave that one to you)

so yeah <3 basically venti pays back his tabs even tho he’s an archon since he doesn’t want people to experience a loss bc of him

it’s the archon nature coming out but also the venti nature bc he’s a sweet boy

anyways getting onto the actual habit 🕺

he has a tendency to skip/hop regardless of wherever he’s going

he uses his anemo elemental skill a lot while doing this just he can feel a light breeze whenever he skips around

i also think he carries around extra bard strings in his hat bc he thinks it’s a cool party trick to take them out and be like tada i have extra strings no need to worry!!!

people are usually not that amused but he does it anyway

also yeah uh those strings sometimes fall out when he’s skipping 💀

he’ll be hopping and suddenly bOOM they fall out, he loses them, a kitten by the name of prince takes them, and he has to ask for help to find his strings (i believe this is exactly how venti lost his strings to prince during the windblume festival and no i will not take any criticism and if venti says something different he is lying 🔪)

also has a habit of putting his hair into a bun sometimes!!!

he loves his pigtails but he finds that he gets bored of them occasionally and his hair needs a break from its wavy tresses so he just plops it into a bun instead

so so cute 10/10 hairstyle he can do my hair

anyways love this man thanks for coming home <3

albedo

i had a feeling i would kind of have a hard time w albedo since he is a little hard to read so i hope this is ok LMFAO

he has paint stains. everywhere. no you cannot change my mind.

they are subtle tho i will give him that

you can’t notice that anything is amiss until you really pay attention and then you’ll start to see the pretty pastels and greens of the sunset he was painting up on dragonspine softly smeared across his clothes

very rarely you’ll see a cute swipe of paint across his cheek or neck and it’s honestly adorable

he was probably pushing his hair out of his face while he was painting and some excess paint on his finger landed on his cheek :,)

he doesn’t really care tbh he thinks it’s just a part of him and it really isn’t that noticeable so he just leaves it

also!!! since he is a big alchemist and he’s constantly working on labs and experiments i think he would accidentally misplace a lot of his written work

he seems very organized but w someone as intellectual as him w his brain running miles a minute, i’m sure he has definitely forgotten where he’s put stuff away

so!! in order to help him remember, he has little notes across his lab detailing where everything is

if he was working on something and he immediately has to put it on hold bc something came up (klee came in demanding attention or sucrose needs help) then he’ll quickly jot down a note and stick it to his desk so he’ll remember when he comes back just in case he forgets

sucrose as a result has noticed A LOT of notes across the lab and it’s simultaneously funny and endearing

“started experiment with sweet flowers to try and turn them into a youth elixir: papers --> on the desk right next to klee’s photo”

final point: he lets klee braid his hair sometimes if she wants to

she doesn’t really know how given how young she is so she ends up messing up but albedo always walks her patiently through the steps again

always makes time for klee no matter what bc he really does care a lot abt her :,)

i love him sm pls

#diluc #kaeya #venti #albedo #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #genshin headcanons #genshin impact #genshin diluc #genshin kaeya #genshin venti #genshin albedo #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #diluc ragnvindr #kaeya alberich

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elia-de-silentio · 3 years

Text

Vanitas and affection: a complicated relationship

In light of recent chapters and waiting for the next to deliver our new dose of pain, I've decided to make a bit of analysis on how Vanitas relates to affection.

Vanitas enters this world, and gets the first of a long series of traumas. A classic: mother dies in childbirth, the baby is blamed for existing. Vanitas had internalized this thinking from his father ... or maybe it was a reasoning he made on his own (he says that his father 'must have hated him', but does not recall the man actually telling him so), and his father did not correct him - either because he subconsciously agreed or because he wasn't the most emotionally attuned man in the world.

After all, the only thing certain about Vanitas's father is his tendency to self-sacrifice: he abandoned his birth family and respectable profession to follow the woman he loved in her travelling caravan, even if he didn't like the rest of the people there; he gave up his life to save his son.

And this latter part is what furthers Vanitas's trauma, as he will feel an extra dose of guilt for causing his father's sacrifice.

After the death of his family, he is taken by the Chasseurs to be trained and become one of them. His strong hatred for vampires fueled him, and it's likely he was quite good at fighting, given what we see of him now. But alas, he caught the attention of Moreau.

Vanitas's damnation was his high empathy. As Luna will later point out, he would be able to escape; but Moreau had faked his death by killing a kid that looked like him, thus triggering his trauma of 'other people sacrificing for his sake'.

And then, he thought that even if he escaped, someone else would be tortured in his place. The reasoning is actually more based in self-loathing than reality, as attested by the existence of n.70 and 71; so he turned his reason for being there into trying to get more torture and lift it from the other children whenever he could.

Then he gets saved. Well, he likely doesn't perceive it like that, because Luna is a vampire, especially the Vampire of the Blue Moon whose blood Moreau injected him to try and turn him into a vampire. Nevertheless, there appears to have been a somewhat peaceful period between the escape from Moreau and the start of the series: we see Luna take care of him and Misha, giving them shelter, teaching them about malnomens and trying her hand at life lessons; we see little Vanitas do most of the chores, even if with a standoffish attitude; we see little Misha basking in the happiness of a somewhat stable and nice family situation.

Then something terrible happens.

It is revealed that due to Moreau's experiments, the kids are not exactly human anymore, but they aren't vampires either; their body can't substain this state of being, and they will die if they aren't turned into kins of the Blue Moon. Misha accepts, Vanitas refuses, wanting to stay human. Next thing we know, they are both kins of the Blue Moon with Marks of Possession, and Luna is dead.

As of the time of this writing, it is not clear exactly what happened; we know that Luna died, and that Vanitas played some role in it. Misha outright accuses him of killing her, but the framing of the actual events is quite ambiguous.

Vanitas, on his part, seems to have conflicting feelings: he says he wants to take revenge on Luna for drinking his blood, but when he's half-delirious, he mutters that he didn't really hate her; he appearently made Misha some promise that he didn't keep, and he is crushed by guilt as a result.

But whatever happened, his consent on the kin-making was ignored (just like it always happened in Moreau's laboratory) and another person that was close to him died either at his own hand, or because of him. And he gets some other trauma on top of an already long list.

Moreover, he was surprised to find out that Misha was alive. So, for some time, he believed the person who he loved like a brother was dead. Add good old grief to the mix.

So, we get to the Vanitas of the very first chapters of the manga. An outgoing, cocky individual ... a mask. After all, every time he has shown his actual feelings of anger and grief, it didn't turn out very well for him in the end, did it?

It also allows him to annoy and gross out people, specifically Noé and Jeanne. Nobody really likes his arrogance and pushiness, so they won't give him the affection he doesn't deserve.

Then, the aftermath of the Bal Masqué. Vanitas is provoking Ruthven, and Noé goes unexpectedly to protect him. To take risks for his sake. This already scares him, but then Noé has the gall to go and try to understand him! His reaction has to be more extreme: he flat out tries to attack Noé with a knife and tries to get him away, whereas he had been pretty much stalking him up to this point. But Noé refuses; and Vanitas is maybe just a little comforted and moved, enough to stop trying to push him away.

Then there is the Catacomb Arc, where a new character is introduced: Roland. He doesn't show spite to Vanitas, but still sees him with condescension, denying that he is acting out of his own free will. And this, to the former Chasseur who was left by the rest of them in Moreau's clutches, is untolerable. Roland means well, but he's going at it the wrong way.

After the fight with Roland, there is another argument between Vanitas and Noé. Vanitas does exactly what Noé had done before: shields him. This sends Noé on a sermon about how Vanitas, as a human, is weak and shouldn't take such risks, which infuriates the other boy: he bites back by calling Noé overconfident, citing the Ruthven accident as an example. This confuses Noé, because didn't he want him to become his shield?

I suspect that this was both Vanitas tendency to sacrifice himself for others, and a sign of tentative trust towards Noé. He does the same thing the vampire did for him ... and got rebuked, and called weak for his trouble. Noé's attitude is too patronizing to be seen as an actual sign of concern,and his already bad mood sours considerably.

Well, there is to say that after a similar crisis repeats itself a chapter later, complete with anti-vampire slurs on Vanitas part, Noè amends ... by using him as a fake hostage against Roland, which is still better that treating him as if he was weak.

Now, Noé might be naive in a lot of regards, but he is not stupid. From that moment onwards, he gets that Vanitas will be treated as an equal. He won't force him into dangerous situations, but he won't even treat him like he's too frail for it. He will be incouraging, but not condescending. And the result is that he actually snaps Vanitas out from his trauma-induced flashbacks, and gets him to be more open and trusting than he has ever been.

In the Gevaudan arc, Vanitas's emotional connections get shaken on two fronts: Noé 's and Jeanne's.

In this arc, he is the one to encourage and support Noé. He gives him advice on how to handle Astolfo; he gets worried about him when he's captured by Chloé (even if he expresses it in his own way).

He saves Noé from getting lost into Jean-Jacques's memories, listens to what he has to say, and concedes to what he wants, where at the start of the manga he was all 'my way or the highway'. He even almost (almost) admits that he was worried about Noé!

He still receives some actual support: demostrations of Noé's spirit which are good for the soul, and a proclamation that he believes in what Vanitas thinks about the origin of Malnomen, the first time a vampire says something like that. Vani plays grumpy, but he is obviously very shaken, in a positive way.

He finally shows Jeanne some actual support: he is cold to her after he was unwillingly vulnerable in her presence due to his illness, but pushes that aside rather quickly, in order to help her realize what she truly wants (saving Chloé instead of killing her) and that she's right to want it. He reminds her that she's a person, not a tool.

And she's grateful for it, and has definitely no qualms about expressing it. The result is that our hero spends days in blue screen, to then have a complete freakout at the possibility of being actually in love with Jeanne. He's so out of it, he ends up oversharing his feelings of being undeserving of love to a Roland who he doesn't like and a Olivier he has never met before. Still, it's the first time he flat-out says his issues.

This brings us to his rooftop conversation with Noé. I really liked the vampire's behaviour here: he was comforting in a sort of roundabout way, à la Vanitas. He said that he is happy Vanitas is the way he is, even if he still doesn't like him very much. Translation: you're a way better person than you think you are, and you deserve to be loved. This is coming from a totally unbiased place, I'm not a weird person who would like you or something.

And this is the last conversation we see between the two of them: as of the time of this writing, Noé has been compelled to drink Misha's blood, and Vanitas has just arrived on the scene.

Vanitas has seen his self-loathing perspective challenged and has changed a lot in the span of a rather short time, and I really don't know how he'll react to Noé learning the details of his past; he sure won't want any form of compassion. Personally, I suspect he'll be very cold to Noé for quite some time, possibly even trying to drive him away, before a reconciliation.

Thanks to anyone who bothered to read my ramblings!

#vnc #the case study of vanitas #vanitas no carte #vanitas no shuki #vnc vanitas #vnc meta #vnc analysis #vnc noe #vnc jeanne #vnc luna #vnc mikhail #elia's recaps

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ssa-babygirl · 3 years

Text

Out of my League [Part 6]

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Single mom!Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Summary: JJ gives you some bad news and Spencer feels like he’s only making matters worse. For both of you.

Warning(s): Angst, mentions of grief and death, allusions to relapse, swearing, mentions of drinking, this is lowkey a mess so i may have missed a couple of warnings

Author’s Note: IT’S HERE!!!! YAY!!! that’s the happiest you’re gonna be all chapter. The next one may take a bit of time and i am SORRY for that because this may or may not have a sorta cliffhanger you should just read it to find out!! also heads up there are a lot of perspective changes later on please just imagine how it would be cut together in a movie that’s how i wrote it OK ENJOY DON’T BE MAD JUST TRUST ME OK??

[Previous Part] [Series Masterlist]

Washington, D.C., 2011

(Reader POV)

You’d gone to three different funerals since moving to D.C. Three more than you would have liked, obviously, no one ever really wants to go to a funeral.

The first had been your father’s. You had Jamie and your mom, but you needed Spencer. He was out on a case and you couldn’t blame him for not being there, but he made up for it a million times over. Your dad’s death wasn’t unexpected, and while it hurt to say goodbye, it was relatively easy to move on.

The second had been for Aaron’s ex-wife, Haley. You didn’t really know her, but Aaron was your friend and you wanted to support him. That and Jamie got along very well with Jack, acting almost as an older cousin, and you know how important family is when you lose a parent.

The third and most recent funeral was the worst one: Emily’s. She was there one day, raring to go and take on the world, gone the next.

The day you found out was just terrible. JJ had called you herself to tell you. You managed to stay calm until you hung up, when you practically threw your phone onto the kitchen table and collapsed into a chair, tears pouring down your face as silent sobs wracked your body.

Jamie ran in at the sound of you crying, “Mom? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

You shook your head, unable to speak. Jamie wordlessly wrapped his arms around your shoulders and held you as you struggled to regain your voice. When you could finally breathe and relay the news you just received, you choked out, “Aunt Emily died last night.”

Then Jamie started crying too. He curled up into your shoulder and sobbed into your shirt, soaking you to the skin, almost like he was little again. You crumbled at the sound of his whines and cries. Every part of your chest ached with the weight of your grief.

“What happened to her?” He finally whimpered.

“She has a dangerous job,” You didn’t even notice the tense you used, “A bad man was after her.”

“Well, is everyone else okay? What about Uncle Derek? What about Doc—”

“Everyone else is fine, baby, no one else was hurt. Doc’s fine.”

You sat still for God knows how long, silent, clutching each other like a lifeline, praying this was all just a dream and that you’d get a call from Emily telling you it was all some sick joke. Of course, you’d be furious with JJ, but at least there wouldn’t be a hole in your family where Emily had once been.

Your mother came over to help you cook, the same role you had taken years prior while your father was sick. She consoled you and Jamie for the next two days and then drove you to the funeral. You got out of the car and walked in silence to the church, clutching Jamie’s hand as you entered.

Aaron was the first at the door. He wasn’t one for hugs, but when he saw you, exhausted and barely standing, he pulled you and Jamie in tight. The hug was brief, but it helped, God, did it help. Dave was just behind him, and he didn’t hesitate. He ruffled Jamie’s hair and gave you a kiss on both cheeks. JJ was holding Henry in the corner, and Will gave you a weak smile. Derek and Penelope were holding one another, both shaking as they cried. Your grip on Jamie’s hand grew tighter, tighter, tighter until you saw him.

You then dropped Jamie’s hand as you ran over, arms open wide as your son followed close behind, “Spence--”

He returned your hug instantly, burying his face in your hair, “I’m sorry I didn’t call--”

You felt Jamie join the hug, but you kept your head buried in Spencer’s chest, “No, I’m sorry too, I didn’t know what to do.”

“Me neither.” He pulled away, wiping away some tears and sniffling, “I’ve just been holed up in my room reading Vonnegut all for the past three days.”

Of course, “What books?”

“Mostly Slaughterhouse-Five, it was her--”

“Her favorite,” You nodded as you spoke the last part in unison with him.

“Yeah. I read it out loud just…” His voice cracked and the words looked painful to get out, “Just in case she could hear me.”

Your heart broke imagining him wrapped in blankets, eyes rimmed red as they glazed over the worn-out pages. You ached at the thought of his voice cracking just as it did before as he read for hours and hours, begging the universe to let Emily hear him, “She did. And she loved it.”

“I just hope she didn’t realize I was crying,” he muttered, and it shattered you, “She wouldn’t want us to cry for her.”

“You’re right, but I know she’d be unbelievably offended if we didn’t cry just a little bit,” Spencer’s tearful smile was enough to make you feel slightly better. There was still hope.

Your mom took Jamie home after the wake, knowing that you needed time with the team to feel like a person again. You went home with Spencer. He shouldn’t have to be alone anymore.

“You’re really good at taking care of me,” he smiled weakly, sipping the tea you made for him.

“Yeah, I had a good teacher.” Your mother was always there when you lost someone. You had your ups and downs, but she was a good mom.

“Does it get easier? Losing someone?”

“No. It always hurts just as bad,” you sigh, “But moving on used to be a lot harder.”

“Do you still miss him?”

“Of course I do, but less than I used to.” You still talked to your dad sometimes, something you did as a kid when he wasn’t home, just telling him about your day or narrating what you were doing. Even after all these years, you still found yourself explaining to no one that you had to run to store and buy bread to make Jamie’s lunch.

“I see little pieces of him everywhere I go. Jamie has the same exact smile. His favorite book when he was little was the same one my dad read to me. No one ever really leaves. Family, friends, they stick with us.”

“I’ve never lost a friend before. When Gideon left, I knew he was out there. Same with Elle. I could have Garcia find them right now and call them up to see how they’re doing, but Emily--” his voice cracked too much for him to want to continue, so he dropped it altogether.

“Did I ever tell you about my college roommate, Juliet?”

“No.”

“We were best friends. We did everything together: Movie nights, parties, all that. The night of our last final senior year, we decided to go clubbing to celebrate.”

You told him the whole story. The drinking, the dancing, the guy. You don’t remember his name, but you remember trusting him. He was sweet and Juliet liked him, so when she came to you at the bar after dancing with him telling you she was going home with him, you let her.

“I was happy for her! She had just gone through a breakup a few months before, so it was nice to see her getting some,” you let out a weak laugh, “I remember the last thing I said before she left was ‘Okay, have fun, call me in the morning, we’ll get brunch. I love you.’” Spencer winced, almost as if he knew where this story was going. Given his line of work, he was expecting far worse, but he at least knew that we didn’t get lunch the next morning.

“I went home a little bit later, I got bored, so I got a taxi home.”

You close your eyes and sigh deeply, “I’m in the back seat when I get a call. It was Juliet’s phone.”

“She wasn’t calling you, was she?”

“No, it was the police. Juliet didn’t have a good relationship with her parents, so I was her emergency contact.” You had to plan the funeral, invite her parents, look them in the eye and lie to them that Juliet wanted to make amends with them. The horrified guilt on their faces almost made it worth it, “The car she was in got t-boned when the guy ran a red light. He wasn’t as sober as we thought he was.”

“She didn’t make it.” Spencer guessed for you.

“No. She was dead before they got her out of the ambulance.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. If Juliet hadn’t…” You still couldn’t bring yourself to actually say it, “I wouldn’t have moved home, I wouldn’t have gotten back with Kyle, and I wouldn’t have Jamie. I don’t wanna tell you that something good will come out of this, because that’s a horrible thing to hear, but looking for an opportunity to find something good can’t hurt.”

“I can’t just look for something new when all i can think about is how I should have been able to help!”

“You really think I didn’t blame myself for what happened to Juliet? That every night for years after I thought I could have done something differently, and sure, I could have, but it’s not like I knew what was going to happen, and I couldn’t keep blaming myself.”

“It’s not the same, you don’t get it.” His fingers ghosted over old scars on his forearms, scars you didn’t want to think about where they came from.

“I do, Spencer. Emily was my friend too. And because she was my friend, I know she would never let you blame yourself for it. She knows you can’t save them all. All we can do is save ourselves,” you took his hand in yours, he still tensed up, “‘cuz that’s all the people we lose want us to do.”

He turned his head up from the floor and met your eyes. Once you gazed into those deep hazel irises, the tension in his hand melted away. His shoulders slumped, and he let out a deep breath, squeezing your hand like a lifeline, “Thank you.”

“Of course, Spence.”

“I’m sorry for snapping.”

“You apologize too much.” You had nearly forgotten exactly what he said to you that night in the hotel bar in Vegas all those years ago, but clearly, he hadn’t, he couldn’t, and he didn’t, because after a few moments of staring into your eyes and slowly drifting towards you in peaceful silence, he closed the gap between you both and kissed you.

Spencer Reid was kissing you.

This was happening.

Nearly two decades of being friends--

Years of being totally, ridiculously, and most importantly, cluelessly in love with each other, Spencer Reid was kissing you. You were almost so overjoyed at that moment as you started to kiss him back that you nearly forgot that your friend was dead and you were supposed to be comforting him. This wasn’t comfort, this was what Kyle did to you all those years ago.

You broke the kiss before he did something he’d regret, “Spence…”

“Oh my god,” he removed his hands from your face and shifted his entire body away from you, “I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t-”

“Oh my god, I’m an idiot!” He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling at the strands as his hands landed at the back of his neck, forcing his head to stare in his lap.

“No you’re not! Hey. Genius. Look at me.” He didn’t. “You’re not. You’re just in a bad place, I get it.”

“No you don’t. This time, you don’t.”

“What do you m—”

“Look, I don’t wanna kick you out but I really think you should leave.”

“Oh… yeah… sure… okay.” You slowly rose from the couch on weak knees. Whether it was from adrenaline or anxiety, you couldn’t tell.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be! Just… please, take care of yourself?” You glance around the room for your belongings, “Shower, eat something, get some rest, please. And call me if you need anything--”

“Y/N, please, just go.”

You felt tears sting your eyes as you reached for the doorknob. You turned your head just enough to look over your shoulder to say, “Goodnight, pretty boy,” before you left. You closed the door behind you and leaned against it, breathing heavily.

(Spencer’s POV)

Why was I kicking her out?

Why was I telling her to leave?

Why was I pushing her away?

Why did I kiss her?

Why did she push me away?

Why did she call me “pretty boy?” She never--

The pieces fell into place as they often do, all at once with the force of a car slamming into a pole at fifty miles per hour.

“Goodnight, Pretty Boy.”

“Goodnight, Princess.”

She remembered that night.

She remembered that night when I drove her home and put her to bed and--

And I told her I had a crush on her in high school.

And I almost said I loved her.

And I almost kissed her then.

God, I wish I had. Any time would have been better than now.

(Reader POV)

You didn’t know you could miss someone so much while they were behind just one door. You could’ve turned around right then and knocked and waited for him to be ready to talk about what just happened. About him kissing you. About you kissing back. About you stopping him. About that drunken night when you let it slip how pretty you thought he was.

You should’ve just waited.

But you couldn’t stand to be that close to him while he wanted to be as far away from you as possible.

So you ran.

You practically sprinted down the stairs and out of his building as quickly as you could, getting in your car and pulling out of the parking lot and getting the fuck away before you hurt anyone else, including yourself.

(Spencer POV)

I couldn’t just let her walk out like that.

I had to say something.

I had to go after her.

I had to get her back.

I needed her.

But when I opened the door, it was like she had never been there.

I leaned on my door frame staring at the staircase down the hall, wishing I had the energy to run after her, to catch her before she reached her car, to stop her from driving away, to tell her I was sorry, to beg her to please, please, come back upstairs and talk to me, but my feet were fixed to the floor and my legs were weak. I just closed my door with my back and slid down to the floor, unable to bring myself to cry anymore. I sat there for god knows how long until I found the energy to crawl over to the coffee table where I had left my phone, picked it up, and dialed a number.

(Reader POV)

You jumped slightly at the sound of your phone ringing, you shuffled through your bag in the passenger seat, desperately trying to find it before the light turned green. Some foolish part of your mind told you it was Spencer, you wished it was Spencer, you wanted nothing more than to turn your car around and talk it all out with him, tell him you were sorry, that you loved him, that you needed him, but your heart sank when you looked at the screen and saw the number.

It was a just fucking spam call.

You threw your phone back in your seat and beat your fists against the steering wheel, groaning and wishing the fucking light would just turn green already. When it finally did, you slammed on the gas a bit too quickly, sending the car jolting forward. You barely stopped the entire rest of the ride home, the universe must have sensed your impatience. As you finally pulled into your driveway, your skull felt as though it was packed with cotton, your tear tracks drying on your cheeks.

You raced up the steps to your door, fussing with the keys and trying to unlock the door as quickly and quietly as possible. You inevitably made noise as you entered, prompting a light to turn on in the living room. Your mom rose from the couch she had been sleeping on, her face dropping from annoyed to concerned.

“Toots, you’re home already? I thought you wouldn’t be back until morning.”

You had thought that you were fresh out of tears, but apparently, you still had more to spare, seeing as you broke the second the words left her mouth.

“Oh my, what happened?” She raced towards you, wrapping you in a hug, “Is Spencer okay? Did something happen?”

As confused and sad as you were, you couldn’t stop the smile that had suddenly appeared on your face, “He kissed me.”

“He what?” She broke the hug, holding your face in her hands and wiping tears off of your cheeks, “Then honey, why on Earth are you here?”

(Spencer POV)

“You kicked her out? Why?”

“Why do you think I called you, Jennifer? What do I do? How do I fix this?”

“Well, what exactly happened?”

“I freaked out, she came over, we talked, I,” I took a deep breath and braced myself for her reaction, “I kissed her—”

She almost choked on her coffee, “And you didn’t lead with that? Don’t you think that’s a little important?”

“I was trying to avoid reliving it for as long as possible.”

“You’ve wanted this since high school, why wouldn’t you want to relive it?”

“She pulled away.” There was no anger or sadness behind my words. I don’t sound hurt as I recount the scene, “She took my hand, I kissed her, she stopped me.”

JJ’s hand brushed over my shoulder and I flinched away slightly.

“I apologized immediately, she wasn't mad or anything, I just…” I trailed off, unable to admit that I just couldn’t look at her anymore. I never thought I’d get tired of seeing her face, but I had needed her to leave. When she pulled away, all I could think about was the sound of Alexa Lisbon sneering at me as Kyle and his goons tied me to that goal post.

“She wanted to help me, and I know she did, but…”

“She couldn’t.” JJ finished my sentence.

I shook my head, “Not this time.”

“But now you want her to come back?”

“And I don’t know how to tell her that because I fucked up.”

“What did she say after you told her to leave? Did she just go?”

(Reader POV)

“I told him not to feel bad and to take care of himself.” You hadn’t had time to tell him how much you wanted to kiss him but neither one of you was in the right state of mind for that.

“Right, yeah, and did he say anything else?”

You winced at the memory of how his voice sounded. “He kept telling me to leave, so I just went for the door and said--”

(Spencer POV)

“‘Goodnight, pretty boy,’” I grumbled, “That was the last thing she said.”

“Okay?”

“She never calls me Pretty Boy.” I told her the whole story. When I was done, her eyebrows were drawn together and lips were pressed together in a thin, worried line uttering, “Spence…”

“What?”

She sighed, saying nothing and smirking slightly to herself, but saying nothing.

“Jennifer.”

“She loves you, genius.”

“Then why’d she leave?”

“Because you told her to. And…” she hesitated, almost scared to say anything else. I was scared to hear it. JJ took my coffee away and dumped it down the sink, a silent indicator that I had enough and needed to go to bed.

She turned back to me and leaned over the table again, making sure I'd look her in the eyes, “She’d do anything for you.”

I just stared down on my hands on the table, unable to say another word, unable to defend myself, unable to fight anymore.

Because I knew she was right.

Taglist~~~

Lmk if you wanna be added! Some names didn’t work so if you don’t see your name as a tag just dm me a url and I’ll try to fix it

@lawnmoa @ellvswriting @baby-pogue @purelyprentiss @confused-and-really-hungry @thatsonezesty13 @deni-gonzalez @irjuejjsaa @randomfandomshitposts @bisoner @moonstarrnghtsky @smurfflynn @eldahae @t0xicllama @undeniablyyou @staplernpaper @theweirdobella @sammypotato67 @k-k0129 @helloniallslovelies @dazzlingnights @uhuhuh @booksarekindaneat @crimeshowtrash @carlgrxmes @collectiveuniverses @annesauriol

#spencer reid #Criminal Minds Reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #CM #cm fan fiction #cm imagine #mgg fanfiction #mgg imagine #mgg x reader #mgg smut #mgg #mgg angst #spencer reid angst

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utilitycaster · 3 years

Text

This is going to be long and also not terribly well-edited or organized as I want to post it now but also want to watch The Unsleeping City in 45 minutes. Anyway welcome to why I have really loved Caduceus in the post-hiatus times especially, and particularly in Eiselcross, and how I think missing the mark with Caleb is a brilliant choice, and some thoughts about religion in D&D. Obviously everything I say is subjective and a reading of the text so to speak but the religion part will dip into my own projections so like...especially subjective.

Caduceus has, from the start, always been a unique and necessary perspective within the Mighty Nein, and he’s a voice that’s both desperately needed within the group while having many of his own limitations.

I’ve always shied away from the therapist interpretation. I think that’s to an extent how Caduceus sees himself at times - in fact, I think part of his current arc is that he’s starting to move away from that idea of himself - but the fact is he’s not actually in that role. No one really is and that’s a good thing; found family slash sort of coworkers is a good place to find a confidant, but for a capital-T Therapist you need someone outside that circle.

I’ve mentioned in passing a few times that while I get why some people, and especially ex-Catholics, find a lot of resonance with Essek, my own experience with religion maps incredibly well onto Caduceus. I grew up Jewish and moderately religious, and went to a Jewish school until high school and having most of my social circle within that community. And as most religious minorities can attest, there is a sense of one’s religion being tied up with familial duty or responsibility and dueling pressures to and to not assimilate. I still find a lot of meaning in some religious practices and still practice many of them, but I’ve definitely changed a lot of those practices due to my experiences in high school and especially college, sometimes for good reasons (ie, “this is not in line with the values I’m finding within myself as I gain experience in the world and engage with new perspectives”) and sometimes for more neutral/selfish ones (ie, “I don’t want to go to services on Friday night, I want to go out drinking with my friends.”) Caduceus is a cleric and has a personal relationship with his deity and I don’t think it’s at all in his nature to abandon that, but I think it is a relationship that is changing, and I can say from personal experience that’s even if it’s for the better, even if it’s an evolution rather than a rejection, changing traditions you were raised in because of the outside world is not easy. Anyway, I see a lot of my college self in Caduceus and what he’s going through now, and it is a very quiet and internal struggle but still an important and difficult one.

More generally, while Caduceus is young for a firbolg, he’s still got 80-100 years of experience with the life he once led and probably thought he’d lead for his entire life. His family ventured out, but as far as I can tell, always in the direct service of the Wildmother. Caduceus fulfilled that when he rescued his family. It’s no surprise that he’s felt a little adrift since then. Indeed I think he felt a little uncertain at various other points too - certainly when the party stole a boat in Nicodranas, and he indicated at various other times that he’d had doubts - and that has got to mess with the fact that he had those doubts even while he was on a mission for his family, given to him by his goddess. He apologized to his parents for wanting to continue adventuring, even though they were fully supportive of his decisions.

I’ve already talked about Caduceus changing in Eiselcross especially - finding other things out in the world that were perhaps not directly given to him by the Wildmother but which still could use his help, and changing some of his approaches as a cleric. He admitted to Lucien that he’s not sure what he’s supposed to be doing at this time, and again, that’s a really hard place to be, especially for someone like Caduceus. I am really excited to see how his experiences in Eiselcross and beyond change him.

Back to the limited perspective and his words to Caleb: one thing Caduceus has always excelled at is a sort of...kind disregard for politics. I think some of it is just not having the inclination or taste for mind games, which tend to require both a certain intricacy and a good amount of deception, neither of which Caduceus is good at nor likes. This has often served the party well - Caduceus was the one who got them to involve the Dynasty when the Laughing Hand got out, and he might be the one who is willing to pull in Essek despite others’ doubts. But there is a benefit to politics; there’s telling someone only what they want to hear, which can often be bad, but there is an element of telling people what they should hear in a way in which it will be received, and I don’t know if he’s mastered that either. An unique perspective is valuable, but it’s still only one perspective.

I suspect Caduceus’s feelings towards Caleb are more complex than “turn that frown upside down” (and in general what people say on Talks is going to be ooc, in modern and fairly casual terms, etc) but I also think he may be approaching Caleb from a grief counselor perspective, when trauma is a much different thing, and he may be ascribing intent where, as was said on Talks, this is just there in Caleb whether or not he wants it. And I think this is a great character choice from Taliesin (I really do hope he’s on Talks in two weeks)! Why would a cleric of mourning and how death affects the living have an extensive knowledge of Caleb’s experiences? He wouldn’t! I should note I think Caduceus’s advice has often been very good - towards Fjord as Fjord was reaching out to the Wildmother, and to Beau and Veth in the conversation after the hag encounter especially - and those were conversations about things like religious faith and familial relationships and one’s place on the world, which are things Caduceus has experience with or is going through himself.

I feel like I’ve called characters foils a whole lot now and I don’t think it even fits entirely here, but it is fascinating to contrast Caleb and Caduceus, one of whom has drastically changed his path multiple times, willingly and unwillingly, and one of whom is in the midst of great and unclear change. I think they have more in common than they necessarily believe, and I absolutely think Caduceus’s intentions have always been good, just lacking in some understanding (which I also think Veth and Beau have at times gotten wrong too, in different ways). But Caleb is someone who has understandable difficulty talking about his past, and Caduceus is someone who doesn’t always quite realize if he’s off the mark, and I don’t know if they will resolve this, because neither is in the wrong.

One of my favorite things about both campaigns of Critical Role but especially this one is how interestingly and believably characters misunderstand each other. It was one of my favorite things about the twins in Campaign 1, and it’s been a throughline among many different characters in Campaign 2. Like, if I say I think a PC is misunderstanding someone else, there is an unspoken “and I think that’s fascinating and I want to know what happens next”, and the fact that he’s only just realizing how much he’s changed and how much he might change and expand his horizons is one of my favorite things about Caduceus.

#critical role #caduceus clay #long post #not to continue in the tags (jk always to continue in the tags) but flaws are why i like characters!#this is exceptionally true for caduceus and beau - their very specific perspectives and difficulty changing them is why I love them #a perfect character is boring #and while taliesin has said caduceus was created to be static...i don't think he is static! because static is boring to me!#i think he's someone who thought he was static and the outside world said: bet. and it's phenomenal and i love it.

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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

Text

Persephone's Symphony | Day Two / Part One | Hades

Hey lovelies this isn't completely done (this chapter, I mean) but this was a good spot to post it because it's been a while and I'm proud of this part. The next part will be about the same length (I'm guessing) and will be the long awaited bathtub scene! enjoy, and sorry for how ramble-y this chapter is. It's on purpose LOL!

Synopsis: In which he is the bad one— the dangerous one, the clunky one, the one who only knows how to break things— and she is the good one— the fragile one, the soft one, the one who knows how to put things back together— and he has to keep her alive long enough for anyone else— anyone who can do more than kill— to save her like she deserves to be saved— to save her from him. There are no pomegranates, no three headed dogs, and no requirement to stay— that is, if they don’t count an assassin on the loose out for her neck. In that case, three days in a safe house doesn’t feel like a long time— just long enough for Persephone and Hades to remember why opposites attract.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (third person)

Warnings: PTSD in action on both parts, self-loathing

Word count: 2.7k

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Master List

Maybe saying yes is the wrong answer. It certainly goes against the protocol his commander explicitly told him to follow.

Stay inside, Barnes. Keep the curtains closed, limit the amount of lights on inside the house. Don’t let her out of your sight— not even for a second.

It was all basic, day one things that any rookie would know. Bucky is a lot of things but he isn’t a rookie— he’s been around the block his fair share of times and then some. Still, the last thing his commander had told him rings through his ears as he crosses the threshold of the Wilson’s family residence and feels the sun, warm and steady on his face— and on his one, good arm— for the first time in twenty-four hours.

Be a ghost, Barnes, or you might just become one; you understand me?

Bucky had answered yes, again— obviously. Maybe that’s just a thing he does; saying yes when he doesn’t know what else to say. Saying yes when he should be saying anything but.

But what?

But it’s not like it really matters— there was no other choice that time. He’s a soldier, he was given his orders, and— whether he likes it or not— Bucky always follows his orders.

The door creaks shut behind him, a little loud for his liking but the sound of the willow trees snapping in the yard are enough to drown it out for the most part— Well, Bucky always follows most of his orders.

That was also before everything went straight to hell, though— before no one thought to tell him that he's not dealing with a victim; he’s dealing with a survivor. Fucking military— he should have known they’d leave the important details out. They’ve been shoddy since the forties, always squirreling away information from the little guys. Eighty years later, one hundred and six years old, and he’s still a little guy. No closer to gaining an invite to the big kid table than he was at twenty-six when he still had two good arms. If anything he’s further away now, begging for scraps when there was once a point in his life where he at least had a seat somewhere.

With someone.

Nothing’s changed— nothing will change and he doesn’t expect it to— but this time there’s a difference.

There’s a big one.

It’s the canyon between grief and watching your family get slaughtered in front of you; the insurmountable jump from longing for those you’ve lost and having them ripped away from you so violently that you can’t function. Can’t sleep. Wake up scared. Jump away from every touch, every noise, like every shattered vase is out to personally kill you—

Why the fuck wouldn’t they tell him that the girl he’s supposed to be protecting has PTSD? He may be old— the term may be different now— in his day they used to call it shellshock— but it’s yet another thing that hasn’t changed. Nothing ever changes; not really— not for him.

Soldier.

Scientist.

Same fucking difference— the signs are still the same and she has all of them.

He would know— he should have known from the moment he walked through the door— they should have told him!

He saw the pictures. Saw the scarlet circles and lifeless eyes and blood. Fuck, there was so much blood and that was just a grainy photpgraph from a junky projector! He couldn’t smell it— couldn’t taste it— through the pictures but he has an imagination— well, what’s left of one at least. He can’t say he didn’t leave most of his creativity in those hills of Austria— gods only know he left most of everything else there— but even if he had left all of it he wouldn’t have to dig far for a memory of his own. They don’t tell you as a soldier that fresh blood smells like rotting honey— that it lingers in your clothes and hair and on your goddamn lips for hours.

Soldier.

Shooter.

Fucking psychopath with a gun and one arm and snow still shoved so far down his throat that he can’t breathe—

No, if they don’t bother telling their soldiers then there’s no way anyone thought to tell the cherry pie angel. They probably thought it would ruin her sweetness. They probably didn’t even think to tell her at all. Bucky definitely didn’t. He should have. If he had, maybe he would have been able to catch her before the flies ate through her wings completely. Maybe if he had just done his damn job instead of being sucked in by the sticky marmalade of her laughter then he would have seen the way she was melting right in front of his face. July in Brooklyn does that to a person.

It brings the flies to the cherry pie.

The flies to the rotting honey.

The flies to too fucking late— he had twenty-four hours and instead of doing something he just let her sink. Some guard dog he is.

Bucky watches as she gingerly sits on the edge of the white swing, her movements stiff, almost mechanical. She lifts her feet as soon as she’s down, toes hanging a good few inches off the ground as they curl around the thick bayou air, clenching and unclenching rhythmically. They never touch the bamboo mat and her eyes never lift from the shoreline— not even when he takes a couple measured steps towards her. It’s unnerving, to say the very least.

“We can’t stay out here too long.” Bucky isn’t used to speaking this quietly but it feels like if he doesn’t level his voice to match the whispering of the wind across the bulrushes then he’ll be hurting her more than he already has.

Her answer isn’t any louder than his— the only reason he even hears it at all is because he refuses to look away from her. He only hears her because his eyes are already on her lips, willing her to stop sinking her teeth into the soft flesh. Please, please, please stop—

“I just need a few minutes.”

Her eyes are wide and rimmed with red, toes continuing to work against the breeze with the same automatic movements. Clench. Unclench. Clench. Unclench. He doesn’t understand. It’s like she’s trying to work the feeling back into them— or maybe like she doesn’t know that she’s doing it at all. Hell, if the way her eyes have glassed over means anything then he would wager that there’s a good chance she doesn’t even fully know she’s outside. Yeah, that’s shellshock alright. Clench. Unclench. Clench. He doesn’t realize he’s copying her movements until his jaw aches.

Unclench.

“I know, doll. I—” He finally tears his gaze from her rigid figure— from her bruised lips— looking as well to the horizon. Maybe she’s on to something; maybe the waves will tell him how to help her— “I know.”

Can they tell him how to help himself? He shuffles forward again, stopping at the edge of the swing, gaze sweeping from the water to the barriers of the premise. Who is he kidding— of course they can’t. This isn’t about his salvation anymore. Those days have more than come and gone. Now it’s about hers— it’s about an assignment and keeping ten toes and ten fingers connected to two legs and two arms. Right now is about an order and Bucky Barnes can certainly follow orders— maybe that’s all he can do.

He gives the shaking girl who— despite everything— is swathed so prettily in the shade of the porch another once over.

Maybe but maybe not too.

Maybe he can’t follow orders at all.

Maybe he can’t afford to think about it for too long.

Because if he can’t follow orders then what can he do?

Bucky is still staring at her when she speaks again but her sudden words still make him jump nonetheless. “There’s room.” Her voice falters for a moment, lips hanging open and eyes faraway, before she continues. “If you want to sit, I mean. There’s room.”

He shouldn’t— he knows he shouldn’t, sitting isn’t a part of his orders— but he does. He couldn’t say no to her if he wanted to.

“Thanks.”

He definitely doesn’t want to say no to her.

“Sure.” Her voice is barely a hum— barely there at all— and he can’t choose whether to look at her lips or her fingers, which are now following suit.

Clench, unclench. Clench, unclench.

It’s an impossible decision— much like the ones from his days as a soldier— but it demands a choice from him nonetheless— unlike the ones from his days as a pawn. Her nails drag over the wood, snagging every so often, but she doesn’t seem to notice. Clench. Can she even feel him next to her? Back in the day— before that day— he used to watch his comrades do the same thing. He used to do the same thing. Sometimes he still does. He knows exactly what he would want someone to do for him.

He makes the choice for an impossible decision, wrapping his hand around hers until their fingers are laced together. “You can talk to me, if you want.”

It seems to work, if only marginally, because she stiffens for a moment, fingers flexing around his. Bucky can’t tell if it’s a good thing or a bad thing, the way she grips his hand so unsure of herself. Is she unsure of herself, though, or is she still lost somewhere in the depths of her mind, drowning in her rotten honey thoughts?

Her hand stills— an answer in itself— before her voice, slowed as though stopped by lips that have been glued shut, sounds. “Do you ever feel like you’re drowning?”

It’s not what he’s expecting but what else is new— neither was she and yet he’s here, listening to the moments they’re allowed to be outside— all of zero moments, that is— tick away as her toes clench and unclench.

Tick, tick, tick— what would his commander say.

“Yes.”

Steve used to ask him the same thing, Bucky adds silently, but only when they got older.

He supplies, “I think maybe that’s a part of being human.”

Tick, tick, tick— his commander wouldn’t say anything, he would just put Bucky on probation.

Still, he doesn’t rush her— he can’t. He won’t. She just told him she’s drowning; he’s not going to be the ocean to her frenzied attempts to stay afloat. He’ll just hold her hand, and keep looking over her shoulder, and then over his own, and when the time comes he’ll tell her they have to go, because that’s what she’s expecting. He would know— there have been times he’s wanted someone to do the same for him.

Tick, tick, tick— this is worth probation.

“I don’t think I like being human.” She hums back.

No, Bucky wants to say— no, I don’t either, doll.

Being human sucks and he’s not very good at it. He would know, he’s been a lot of things— been compared to a lot of things. Robot. Popsicle. Dog— yeah, he’s a real jack of all trades and so far human isn’t near the top of his ‘favourites’ list. Maybe that’s because if he wasn’t human then he wouldn’t be any of the other things either— maybe if he wasn’t human then he wouldn’t be so easily turned into a monster.

Tick, tick, tick— maybe.

Tick, tick, tick— have his thoughts always been so disorganized?

Tick, tick, tick— maybe it’s the shellshock.

Bucky doesn’t say any of that, of course.

What he does say is— “What would you like to be instead?” —as if he can make everything all better himself.

He can try, at least. He’s been compared to a slave too. Being hers doesn’t sound all that bad.

Thunder rolls over head and it sounds more like a grandfather clock— or the impatient tapping of his commander’s fingers— than anything Bucky’s ever heard. Still, he waits to move. Tick, tick, tick. He waits for a lot of things.

Bucky waits for the sky to turn grey— for the first droplets to mix with the salty bay air and blow against his neck and face.

It’s familiar, the sticky, salty rain, and he isn’t expecting it.

He isn’t expecting Delacroix to remind him so much of his own home in Brooklyn.

He isn’t expecting the way that sitting next to this soft creature feels so much like sitting on the docks with Steve the summer before his enlistment. Sometimes I feel like I’m drowning— Steve had said it at one hundred but he may as well have said it then, at eighteen, too. Because little did Bucky know, Steve had always felt a little bit like he was drowning and now Bucky, at one hundred and six, always feels a little bit like a bad friend.

Like a bad brother.

Like a bad dog— he should have scented it out all those years ago but instead he just waited.

Tick, tick, tick— all he does is wait.

Bucky waits for her to squeeze his hand once more— for her tiny fingers to alert him that she’s ready to move.

Maybe if Bucky had waited until Steve had told him that he was ready all those years ago then Steve would have waited for Bucky to be ready too. Because as he sits here, his skin turning swampy in the sticky, salty rain he realizes that no, he wasn’t ready for Steve Rogers to leave him behind.

He wasn’t ready to face the world alone.

He wasn’t even ready to face Brooklyn alone. Sometimes he still waits at the deli for him and orders the hero sandwich because even though he doesn’t like the absurd amount of pickles, Steve always had. Maybe if he eats enough— and waits long enough— then Steve will come back.

Tick, tick, tick— for a man who isn’t patient, Bucky Barnes sure does do a lot of waiting.

Bucky waits for her answer— because that’s what matters most. Not Steve’s wishes, not his commander’s impatient tapping, not even his own nostalgia that’s starting to make him, too, feel like he’s drowning. He used to love swimming in the Atlantic but when he licks his lips and tastes salt he’s sure it would take a miracle to get him to go in again. It would take a hundred years— or maybe just eighteen— and a push from a man who left Bucky almost as fast as Bucky had left him.

“I want to be a god—” she says it so suddenly that he jolts, eyes scanning their surroundings before realizing it’s just her determined, honey hollow voice sounding from next to him— “I want to be god— or invincible— or anyone but me, I think. I just don’t want to be me anymore. So yeah, I want to be a god.”

She still sounds so far away. Like she’s underwater— like Steve that time he wanted to see if Bucky could hear him scream from under the surf. He couldn’t but he told Steve he could. It doesn’t matter anymore— not right now. Only she does and her airy confession.

It makes Bucky’s heart clench and, as a reflex, so does his hand.

He releases the pressure accordingly— in his hand, not his heart— unclench— and as he does she adds— “and I want to take a bath.”

In that moment, despite his worry for her, he’s ecstatic she isn’t looking at him because if she had been then she would have seen the way his jaw drops. It takes him a moment to answer— a moment to pull himself out of the gutter his frozen-robot-dog brain drags him to— but he settles on one thought in surprisingly record time.

He can’t make her a god but he can sure as hell watch her back if she wants to take a bath.

He can’t make it all better but he can do that no problem.

So of course he stands, squeezing her hand one last time before saying, “okay, doll.”

Maybe Bucky is following orders after all. Maybe it’s a matter of choosing which— whose— orders to follow.

____________

Tag list: @xhollycowx @remembered-license @dumble-daddy @hellotvshowtrash @thesummerbucky @elijahs-wife @cari1bunny @im-just-star-dust @motherofallthesmallthings @hazardoushallucination @em-august @nuttytani @brown-eyed-babes @imaginearyparties

(message me if you want to be added / removed from the tag list -- I'll hold no resentment if you do LOL)

#bucky barnes #bucky #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bodyguard!bucky #bucky imagine #bucky fic #bucky angst #Persepone's Symphony #wow this took a month and it's trash LOL

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kitkatopinions · 3 years

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There's no comparing RWBY 'weapons are part of our souls' to LOTR 'I love not the sword for its sharpness, the arrow for its swiftness or the warrior for his glory, I love only that which they defend'. Ruby fetishizes weaponry so much it's practically a meta gag, while Faramir and Sam long to set their swords aside for gardening trowels. Rwby simps can eternally BTFO making comparisons between them

If RWBY was still back in season three, I'd say comparing it to something like LOTR just isn't fair, that just because there was a lot more big, significant moments in season three didn't mean it was suddenly meant to be taken that seriously. It'd feel like comparing Steven Universe and Phineas and Ferb, because Steven Universe is meant to be an emotional, story-based show with a lot of depth despite it's comedy and goofiness, and Phineas and Ferb is meant to be an episodic show based on comedy and goofiness that still manages to have moments that lean towards being more emotional. Incomparable, really. Steven Universe obviously beats out Phineas and Ferb in terms of character development, emotional beats, story beats, plot consistency, etc, but it's because Phineas and Ferb was never in that ballpark, they were playing in the ballpark in the mall across town with Spongebob and Hey Arnold.

RWBY back in volumes 1-3 had it's incredibly messy things that screwed up the flow and narrative (like for instance the White Fang arc, which was horrible for a number of reasons and always a major blight on the show.) But it was still essentially a school-based, anime inspired, funny web cartoon with great designs and combat choreography that was the highlight of the show, while the plot was there to hold it up. But volume three heralded in a big change in the show (which don't get me, isn't inherently bad, just badly handled imo.) All of a sudden, RWBY as a show was asking to be taken really seriously in volume four. All of our main characters were traumatized, separated, suffering, in over their heads in a world they no longer understood and dealing with deeply personal problems like abusive home lives, PTSD, and self-hatred causing them to push away loved ones. It reminds me in a way of the Harry Potter books changing from 'fun and whimsical adventures in a magic school with writing and style choices a bit reminiscent of Roald Dahl that also has some darker background tones' into 'Harry is fucking traumatized and keeps getting more traumatized, everyone keeps dying around him, the person he once was at eleven now felt like a little brother that had died long ago, his pet owl has been murdered.'

But while they introduced darker themes, it's like they had no idea how to handle them. They started out okay with it, but instead of giving these important topics any depth and world building and moral messages and the focus they deserved, they either sloppily tied up 'resolutions' that were unsatisfying or have just piled on more and more stuff they don't seem to want to deal with. A good example of this is Penny. Her death was hugely significant in volume three, and yet Ruby's grief took a backseat for the majority of season four. After a mentioning in season five, Ruby doesn't mention her again. Then when Penny returns, Ruby doesn't give much reaction, there's no emotional depth, it feels like she barely even cares that Penny's back from the dead. She then decides for Penny that she's going to get a flesh body (I don't wanna hear anyone say that isn't what happened,) while acting totally confident and unaffected by it. She watches Penny's robotic body die while looking like it's reaching out for help while that Penny's eyes do the exact same thing her original body did before the Fall of Beacon, and Ruby doesn't react to that and just goes about her business. (Those scenes are literally triggering for people and I myself don't fully know why, but it's hard for me to even type about it, and the show treated it like just another Tuesday.) Then, Penny chooses to die and frames it like the only choice she's ever made (ignoring all previous content,) and is murdered by a character she's barely spoken to 'for the Greater Good,' while Ruby has no freaking clue about any of it because she already had been removed from the story.

I could talk more about this, but it's running on in length and I want to get to the next point.

Which is that RWBY's attempts at featuring war, loss, trauma, etc while under the banner of hopepunk and presenting itself as serious invites comparison to stories that are more serious like Lord of the Rings. And if not that, than at the very least it invites comparisons to other hopeful but serious story based cartoons like Steven Universe and Avatar the Last Airbender. But the problem is that when comparing them, RWBY does not hold up! Like, at all!

That's what drives me nuts with seeing people compare RWBY to Avatar and Lord of the freaking Rings, because they clearly missed something important when they say that RWBY holds a candle to these things that are both held up as great examples of good writing and world building, two areas that RWBY really falls short in. It's so out of left field, so outrageous. RWBY has always operated under writers that flew by the seat of their pants, brushed off sloppiness, retconned at will, dropped plots, added in things last minute, struggled to make their characters interact in meaningful ways... To compare that to well thought out and beautiful stories like Lord of the Rings, Avatar, or even Steven Universe (the last season rushed against Rebecca Sugar's wishes,) and say that RWBY is in the same league is so weird.

Which like, if people like RWBY just as much as these other shows, that's great for them! If they love RWBY even more, that's also great for them! There's plenty of things I will love and treasure that just aren't as good as other things in the same category. I'm not trying to crap on people who just love RWBY, just... Commenting on the whole 'compare RWBY to Lord of the Rings' thing. One of these stories was prepared to portray serious, real world topics like trauma and the effects of war, and another story... Should have stayed in the lane it was willing to explore. Those are my thoughts on it, at least.

#rwde #anti rwby #rwby hate #rwby bashing #rwby criticism #anti mkek #anti rooster teeth

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partiallyobscure · 3 years

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otp questions from this post <3 I just went ahead and did them with David and Michael lmao. it’s mostly my usual headcanons with my fic as the backstory but you don’t necessarily need to read it to understand. cw for light nsfw but it’s mostly tame.

Who is the most affectionate?

David is disgustingly affectionate. he lives to make people uncomfortable so he would be the absolute worst perpetrator of PDA. he and Michael have gotten kicked out of too many establishments all because David is constantly letting his hands wander. I don’t even think he’s aware of it at this point lmao

Big spoon/Little spoon?

they bicker about it a lot, but usually in bed, David ends up being the little spoon. he tries to start off being the big spoon but he always wakes up with Michael’s arms around his chest, specifically covering where the holes from the antlers were, even though the scars are long gone by now.

Most common argument?

usually comes down to who/what/where to eat.

Favorite non-sexual activity?

they love doing tons of stuff together, but they really like racing, watching bad sci-fi movies, and going on haunted tours around the country. they’ll really go the extra mile for the ghost tours and get huge cameras to hang around their neck and everything and act all tourist-y. it’s a great time.

Who is most likely to carry the other?

David fusses but Michael carries him around when he can or requests it. he doesn’t like to do it too often though because it always reminds him of that first time he did so, thinking he was carrying David’s dead body in his arms.

What is their favorite feature of their partner's?

Michael’s favorite feature is David’s mouth, especially when it quirks up into his signature smirk, but he can also tell a lot about what David’s feeling from what he’s doing with his mouth. David hates that Michael can read him so easily (even with their shared mental connection) and asks how the fuck he’s able to do that, and Michael always gives an enigmatic smile and swipes his thumb across David’s lips.

David’s favorite is Michael’s eyes. he could lose a whole night just staring into them. he can’t quite place the color, but they remind him of how the sky would look at noon and he gets a rush of nostalgia every time Michael looks at him. whenever they light up like when they’re with Michael’s family or when he’s talking about the coolest bike that he saw in town that day is David’s absolute favorite. and when only his eyes turn amber, before the rest of his face follows to match David’s, David falls a little bit more in love every time.

What's the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

not much changed on David’s end since he was attracted to Michael at first sight. he couldn’t let it show though so he just found excuses to touch Michael whenever he could, passing him the joint and their fingers brushing when Michael took the bottle and catching him when they fell off the bridge.

when Michael realized he started to share those feelings, he was confused at first considering everything that happened between them. he wasn’t sure if he wanted to hit David or hit on David when they first met, so those feelings simmered a bit until he could get to know David beyond their history. he doesn’t fully admit it until he realizes he’s the one David is pursuing and he has the ego boost from this combined with knowing there’s more to David than what he allows people to see.

Nicknames? & if so, how did they originate?

David likes how Michael’s name sounds too much to give him a nickname, but will sometimes hit him with a ‘babe’ just to see him flustered. Michael calls him Davey just to make him mad but especially in public.

Who worries the most?

Michael since he still can’t seem to shake the fact that he doesn’t need to worry anymore about human dangers. he still flinches and looks twice before pulling onto the highway and all. but mostly he still worries about his family and their perception of him and whether or not they see him as a bad person, despite their love and support. and of course, he worries about how he’ll be when the day comes that he gets older than them.

Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

David knows Michael’s order all too well and specifically chooses restaurants that have at least fifteen kinds of burgers to choose from.

Michael swears David is making stuff up at this point whenever they go to a sushi place or a Thai place and he chooses something new to try every time. he knows David’s bubble tea order by heart, though.

Who tops?

Michael, but they’ll switch whenever David has had enough of Michael being too gentle with him.

Who initiates kisses?

David, but he’ll usually give Michael a look when he wants a kiss and Michael is happy to oblige. otherwise, since David likes gross PDA, he usually steals a kiss whenever he can.

Who reaches for the other's hand first?

David and it’s usually because he has to pull Michael along after he gets lost in his thoughts, more often than not after they feed.

Who kisses the hardest?

Michael. David nipped at his bottom lip once and that’s all it took for his fangs to come out and sometimes, it gets a little bloody.

Who wakes up first?

Michael. he has to practically drag David out of bed most nights because he’s too comfortable.

Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?

David as stated above lmao. who knows how long dude was batting it up before he could sleep in a bed again.

Who says I love you first?

Michael and it was out of frustration.

Who tells their family/friends about their relationship first?

there’s no one to tell at first since they were keeping it secret, but Star finds out first and is initially upset, mostly about being lied to. grandpa eventually finds out next and then Sam stumbled across them by accident, so...both of them technically spill the beans together each time lmao

What do their family/friends think of their relationship?

Lucy is supportive and likes David a lot. she knows she should probably resent him for turning Michael, but he really seems like a boy who was in a bad scenario and is making due with what happened to him. she also knows Michael has been a good influence on him and trusts the two of them are doing what they need to to survive. her and David bond over shit talking Max and the best kind of wines.

Sam was understandably skeptical at first, but he and David came to an understanding and they’re cool now. they bond over music and David eventually comes around to really enjoying board games because of Sam, mostly because he wins every single game. Sam even refers to him as his brother-in-law.

Star took longer to come around but she mostly listens whenever Sam tells her what they’re up to. she’s also mostly relieved that she dodged both of those bullets and can live her own life how she wants to now, grateful that the boys gave her an escape and that Michael helped get her human life back.

Who is more likely to start dancing with the other?

both of them suck at dancing, but Michael will spin David every now and then when a cheesy slow song comes on, or Careless Whispers and they both crack up.

Who cooks more/who is better at cooking?

when they’re back spending time with Michael’s family, David is usually the one helping Lucy in the kitchen. he’s chided Michael before about joining in, especially with the big holiday dinners but Michael is always there to lick whatever spoons and bowls clean when they make dessert.

they vow to take a cooking class or two while they’re out on the road but never do.

Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines?

Michael. he usually gets them from Sam.

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other's ear during inappropriate times?

David, 100%. inappropriate times being at all times because of the whole telepathy thing.

Who needs more assurance?

David, that Michael still wants to be with him and doesn’t resent him for turning him. but also Michael that he isn’t a monster and that he’s only doing what he needs to to survive.

What would be their theme song?

SOOOO MANY but just from my drive to work today: Possum Kingdom by the Toadies fits TOO well. Michael by Franz Ferdinand too obviously. I’m curating a playlist for them here at the moment if anyone’s interested lmao

Who would sing to their child back to sleep?

please don’t give these two a child

What do they do when they're away from each other?

they’re not usually too far from each other but David gets a little mopey until he can see Michael again. he’s protective so he doesn’t let Michael too far out of his sight. Michael feels a little part of himself missing when David’s not with him, so he’ll do whatever he needs to do quickly or just take David along with him.

one headcanon about this OTP that breaks your heart:

despite all the time David has had to mourn and grieve, he still misses the other boys every day and sometimes it gets really painful. his only regret in life is not easing Michael into the vampire thing more before turning him, but he was under a time constraint from Max so he didn’t have much of a choice. they still get into shouting matches very rarely about whether or not Michael was the catalyst for the other three’s deaths and David’s very deep, hidden fear is that he’ll never learn how to accept it and one day, his emotions will take him too far and Michael will get sick of his guilt trips.

one headcanon about this OTP that mends it:

Michael does blame himself for David’s grief, because how could he not. he feels like the constant source of David’s sorrow when it comes to the boys but also his ecstatic love and it pulls him in two directions. he listens intently whenever David tells him about his past and his time with the boys and asks what they’d say or do if they were there with them right now, and it continues into the modern era. Michael asks what kind of blog Paul would have (music reviews and fashion), what Marko would name his Instagram account for bird photography (vampigeons), and how many followers Dwayne would get on tiktok for posting thirst traps. David knows Michael cares and is trying to keep the spirit of the lost boys alive.

#i miss my fic ok i wanted to expand on it a little 🥺#the fluff overload tag comes in handy here #my fics #the lost boys #david/michael emerson

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luninosity · 3 years

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*wanders by* Look what I worked on today...

Warnings for…NOT actual self-harm, but Jason spotting a scar on one of Colby’s hands, a scar he doesn’t know the story of, and briefly considering that possibility. (The actual story is much more of a cooking-related accident!) Plus general warnings for brief mention of Colby’s Awful Exes and family, & related emotional abuse.

“How’s this?” Jason waited, fingers resting over Colby’s hands in his. The hotel room wrapped comfort around them; it’d begun as nondescript, but had welcomed Colby’s rainbow cascade of scarves and Jason’s tidy unpacking. It was their home now, for these next two weeks of filming on location. “Helping?”

“Very much helping, thank you.” Colby obediently didn’t move, holding both hands out. They were sitting on the bed, having changed into pajama pants and t-shirts—Colby’d borrowed one of Jason’s shirts, too large but in a cuddly flattering way—and the day had been long. They’d been filming into the evening, because Jill had wanted the specific light, dwindling away as Colby’s young and brilliant magician character got imprisoned and bound by iron and tortured, refusing to give up and lead the villains to Jason’s hero.

The chains and cuffs had been fake, of course. Hollywood movie-making magic. A vast leap from real iron.

But that didn’t mean they were soft or forgiving. They’d had hard edges, angled in spots, heavy, with no real padding. He’d had to struggle against them. He’d had to kneel while the villains shoved his hands to the floor and—cautiously, weight judged for performance—stepped upon them, pretending to shatter bones. The floor, and the impact, hadn’t been soft either.

The bruises and scrapes and cuts were all too real. Colby winced as Jason spread healing salve across a tender spot. “Ow. Sorry, sorry, I know you’re being careful, I’m not complaining.”

“Tell me if it’s hurting too much.” He tapped a finger over the back of Colby’s wrist. “And don’t apologize for it. Are you sure you don’t want me to get the medical people to check you out?”

“They did, right after. I know you know; you were there. It’s fine, it’s not—ow—serious. It’ll heal.”

“Might need some wrapping, though.” Jason eyed the bruises, the nicks. They shuffled purple and red across Colby’s skin, shame-faced. He didn’t like them existing, though he knew they weren’t anyone’s fault. “Just for tonight, to keep all this on. Not too tight.”

“Whatever you think works best,” Colby agreed. “You’d know better than I would, as far as stunts and injuries. Ow, oh, drat, that one hurts a bit more.”

That one was probably the worst, Jason judged: scraped raw, layers exposed, across Colby’s left wrist. The edge of that cuff had been both rough and sharp. And obviously his touch hadn’t been careful enough. “Shit. Sorry. Love you. Is the numbing part working, at all? It’s supposed to be helping.”

“Oh yes,” Colby said, obligingly. “It’s already better. Thank you for doing this.”

Jason sighed.

“It’s true,” Colby protested. “I honestly do feel better. I’d tell you if not.” Hair tumbling to his shoulders in loose dark waves—not a wig, but extensions, left in for fantastical mystical effect—he was elfin and pretty and earnest, wearing Jason’s too-large shirt, eyes huge and blue and searching Jason’s face.

“I know you would. But I also want to know if it’s not helping enough, okay?”

“Yes,” Colby said meekly. “I’ll say so if it’s not working, I promise.”

“Okay, then. Just checking.” He tried to make his touch as gentle as possible. He tried to be as soothing as he could: a protective bulk, not a threatening one. Hands offering care, not more harm. Weight and breadth positioned harmlessly on the bed, no demands.

He knew Colby trusted him. He felt a small glow of pride that Colby did: enough to admit to being in pain, to wanting care. He loved Colby and would care for Colby with all his heart, all his strength, all his soul; not a question, not ever.

He still hated seeing Colby in pain. Always had, always would.

That’d be true for anyone he loved, of course. He’d had some discussions with their therapist about that, about grief and loss and Charlie and Jason’s own desperate need to save people, to be strong. He knew that about himself. But it was worse, it was the worst it could be, when the person in pain was Colby.

Colby was the other half of his heart. The brightest piece of his life, the piece that’d dived in and reminded him how to swim and that he liked baking, the piece that’d made him laugh and drawn him into whimsical chattering conversations about wizards and dragons and romance and coffee. The piece that liked pink shirts with sequins on the sleeves, and anchovies on pizza, and history and stories and words that could steal an audience’s breath away.

And Colby had been hurt before, so very badly, for so very long. Inside and out, physical and emotional bruises, day after day. Jason hadn’t been there then, hadn’t known him for the worst of it. But he knew now, at least as much as anyone could, after the fact.

He’d seen Colby flinch from an unexpected touch, get wide-eyed at a large body hugging too tightly at a convention, and—the scariest of all—go silent and someplace else, someplace not present, at a drift of familiar cologne and a flash-flood of memory in the air. He knew what Colby had told him, which was enough to make Jason carefully store up a lot of emotions and then go down to the gym and beat the hell out of a punching bag for long enough to get his reactions under control.

He knew about Colby’s family, too. The layers of those bruises—not physical, but emotional, a slow brutal evisceration of Colby’s sense of self and self-worth—went back decades. They were working on it; their therapist said that Jason being here, not leaving, not making Colby earn any crumb of affection, was the exact best thing he could do. Jason hoped so.

He wished he could do more. He wished he could fight all of Colby’s demons. Like his character in this film, raising a sword. Lifting a shield. Fighting for a cause.

He knew Colby’s hands pretty well, by now. He knew the way those slim graceful fingers felt in his, on his body—in his body, and oh that was always fun, Colby teasing him open and stroking him and pressing inside him. He knew Colby’s gestures on and off camera, the weight and shape of his palms, the backs of his hands, the old scars from period-piece swordfighting lessons and some small-scale stunt work, comedy pratfalls and in-role clumsiness. He knew about the short jagged line on the outside of Colby’s little finger on the right hand, from hopping a fence while filming a scene for that high-school coming-of-age comedy.

He knew he didn’t know every smallest detail—he didn’t have a photographic memory—but he had a decent idea of Colby’s hands, he thought.

Which was why his fingers slowed and came to a stop, as they felt something—as his gaze landed on something—that he didn’t recognize.

Thin. White. Just above the heel of Colby’s left hand, across his palm. Long-healed—no texture at all, only noticeable if someone was paying extremely close attention, but enough to’ve left a line. Liam, Jason thought first, with a shock of anger like scarlet blood—but no, this was older than a handful of years, older than any injuries at Colby’s ex’s hands. Clearly so.

Colby hadn’t seemed to notice—he’d been looking at Jason’s other hand, which had scooped up more salve—but he noticed the pause now. His eyes came up to find Jason’s, huge and flower-blue.

Jason turned Colby’s hand more upward. Touched the line, very very lightly. His fingers shook.

“Oh,” Colby said, soft with love, wry in the way of someone realizing, “no, it’s not what you’re thinking, and don’t say you weren’t thinking of at least two possibilities. It’s not either of those. I, er…well, I was about eleven years old and I’d been trying to prepare dinner for myself and I had absolutely nonexistent knife skills with regard to chopping carrots. And my father’s chef kept his knives very sharp.”

“You were making dinner…for yourself?” He touched Colby’s palm again, traced the scar above the heel. It had plainly been a clean cut, straight, but deep enough to leave a mark once healed.

Colby did that familiar nose-scrunch at him, the one that meant you won’t like this story. “You won’t like this story. But it wasn’t that bad.”

“Tell me? If you want,” he amended. Not an order, not a demand. The freckle near Colby’s collarbone winked at him, playing peek-a-boo with the loose neck of Jason’s shirt.

“Oh, of course. It’s hardly a secret.” Colby wiggled salve-smeared fingers at him. “So we were living in Paris then—Dad having been appointed as an ambassador and all, you know…”

The storied instrument of his voice became, for an instant, more American than anything else, on the word Dad; Howard Kent personified the type of United States politician who embodied privilege, money, and self-interest above everything, including his marriage and his son.

“…and my parents, being, er, my parents, did tend to do things like go on holiday without remembering that I existed, which meant the staff also generally forgot I existed, or took their cues from my parents, or assumed someone else had made some arrangements somewhere. So I was eleven and a bit, and I’d got used to making sandwiches and things, but I thought perhaps I’d try to cook, because I was trying to learn, you know, so I wouldn’t have to bother anyone.”

Jason opened his mouth. Shut it.

Colby lifted both eyebrows, inviting and amused. “Yes, go on, say it.”

“You know everything I’m gonna say.”

“I do. It’s all right; I’ve got you now.” Colby leaned against him, on the bed: easy contact, unremarkable, except for how it was remarkable, it was a marvel, given everything Jason knew.

He wanted to cry for the boy Colby’d been, precocious and shy and so very alone.

He held Colby’s hand. “I’m here. I’m always here. I’ll chop all your carrots if you need me to.”

“You would, if I asked, wouldn’t you? Well, in any case, I managed to slice my hand open, as you might expect under the circumstances, and then I very nearly passed out from the sheer shock of it, and then after a few minutes I pulled myself together and found a first-aid kit and tried to patch it up, though it didn’t work terribly well because I was trying to do it one-handed.”

“Jesus, Colby.” He could’ve demanded, why didn’t you call someone, a member of the security team, the household staff, a doctor, an emergency number, your parents? He didn’t.

He knew why Colby wouldn’t. Not causing a fuss, not giving anyone a reason to disapprove or to not want him, not believing anyone would come or answer or care…

His heart cracked open and bled more. Like younger Colby, huddled on a kitchen floor with a first-aid kit. “What happened?”

#character bleed #jason and colby #fic in progress #i've missed them #wip #original fic

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duelistkingdom · 3 years

Text

you’d come back to me

chapter four: robotic

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Summary: Seto Kaiba has been presumed dead for four years after the events of Dark Side of Dimensions. His return causes both unresolved feelings of grief to be brought to the surface and the past to be dragged right back up. In hopes of helping Seto move on and reintegrate back into society at large, Mokuba asks Yugi to work on Spherium II with Seto. Never one to leave a friend hanging, Yugi agrees. Over the course of the project, Seto and Yugi both come to terms with their mutual grief and grow towards a better understanding of each other.

Rating: T

Ships: Yugi Mutou/Seto Kaiba, Mokuba Kaiba/Rebecca Hopkins, Katusya Jonouchi/Mai Kujaku

Warnings: aged up characters, grief, references to suicide

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Despite Reiki’s insistence on continued meetings, Seto had been cleared to go back to work for part time hours. He was certain full time hours were being dangled like a carrot in front of him to make sure he kept going to therapy. Despite this annoyance, he was given the chance to escape Rebecca’s general judgemental stares. It seemed like she was purposefully studying at the dining table just to glare at him. As a bonus, he was able to dodge Pegasus’s phone calls.

He wanted to look at his old projects. Maybe now he could finally objectively examine the AI he’d been working on rather than being so…. What was the word he was looking for? It didn’t matter. Seto had other concerns on his mind. He went back to the room that housed the AI, frowning as he realized the setting seemed to appear different. It was so much more golden now. The false stained glass had a more natural light streaming in from it. And he was surprised when the AI entered. The Pharaoh no longer looked as he did when he possessed Yugi.

Instead, he was regal as he had appeared when Seto met him in his court. He might not have been that tall but he was still imposing nonetheless. Seto’s eyes were drawn to the Pharaoh’s arms, where there was smooth dark skin over taunt muscle. The familiar ache pressed in his chest upon seeing him. He forced himself to look at the Pharaoh’s face. The Pharaoh had an easy going smile on his face, tilting his head slightly. “Been a while, Kaiba,” the Pharaoh stated, a smug look on his face. “Couldn’t stay away from me, could you?”

Seto was a little surprised but figured that it only made sense. He had no frame of reference for how the Pharaoh actually looked in life when he’d last Dueled this AI. Now he knew how the Pharaoh actually looked and the system must have updated with his memories accordingly. This was, after all, as designed. It was supposed to be as close to an actual living person as technology could get.

“You say that as if you can sense the passage of time,” Kaiba remarked, a frown on his face. Could the AI sense the passage of time? Was he better than he thought? Seto nearly rolled his eyes at himself - of course he was that good. At least Seto was being reminded from the jump that he was good at what he did. “Are we going to Duel?”

The Pharaoh smirked and Seto tried to ignore the odd feeling in the pit of his stomach that gave him. “Impertinent as always, Kaiba,” he said as he activated the Duel Disk on his arm. “I’ll let you start first. Give you a fighting chance.”

A surge went through Seto as he activated the virtual system. Still operating smooth enough though he knew it could be better. Almost anything he created could be better. “Fine by me,” he said as he examined his starting hand. Could also be better. He’d need to reexamine his Deck again. There was an option, though. “I’m activating Cards of Consonance, discarding The White Stone of Legend from my hand to draw two new cards. I’m going to end my turn by summoning Maiden with Eyes of Blue! Make your move, Pharaoh.”

“You know,” the Pharaoh said as he drew a card from his deck. “I like your move so much, I think I’ll copy it. I activate Pot of Greed!”

Kaiba raised a brow. “That card’s banned,” he muttered to himself. Was the AI malfunctioning? Or had the banlist changed while he was gone? Perhaps he should give his programming the benefit of the doubt. After all, Seto’s programming tended to be perfect. He should probably simply reexamine the banlist again. “What are you playing at?”

“You’ll see. I’m also activating Terraforming and using it to put Chicken Game in my hand,” the Pharaoh noted and once again, Kaiba was confused. Another banned card? The AI wasn’t supposed to be able to have banned cards in his deck, so Seto decided that he must take another look at the banlist. “I’m activating the effect of Chicken Game, paying 1000 life points to draw a card.” He looked at the card and smirked. “And now I activate One Day of Peace. We both draw.”

“Fine,” Kaiba said, annoyed. One Day of Peace would prevent him from doing any damage to the Pharaoh the next turn. “Can you hurry up, already?”

“Patience is a virtue, Kaiba,” the Pharaoh teased. Seto instantly froze at the sly smirk and raised brow on the Pharaoh’s face. He was certain that he didn’t remember the Pharaoh being this capable of melting him that quickly. Any retort he had died on his tongue. “I’m summoning Witch of the Black Forest and equipping her with Wonder Wand! Now I activate Wonder Wand’s effect, destroying both her and the equipped card, allowing me to draw two cards. Not only that, Witch’s effect activates, allowing me to search a card out from my deck.” He then raised a brow. “And I have bad news, Kaiba. I’ve won.”

“What,” was all Kaiba could get out. “That’s not possible. You just… oh… oh no.”

“You realize what’s happened, don’t you,” the Pharaoh said as he set the five pieces of Exodia right onto his Duel Disk. Exodia the Forbidden One. How the hell did that happen? Kaiba tried to go over the moves in his head before realizing just how obvious what he was doing was. “Exodo Hell Flame!”

Seto’s entire mind was reeling. Surely this was just based on his memories of the Pharaoh doing this exact move to him during their first duel. Yet… no. It was just an improved version of the Exodia stall that he’d done to him already. Surely he was just thinking about it and the program reacted accordingly, even providing the updated strategy. Why was he so uncomfortable now? “End program,” Kaiba shouted, unable to properly modulate his voice. He had to just calm down, right?

That was exactly it. He was overthinking this simply because the program had dredged up an old wound that never fully scarred over. If he could simply relax, then maybe he could come back again to practice properly tomorrow. Maybe he should look into getting a hotel room tonight and attempt to remotely access the code to make sure he was right about his assumptions. He didn’t want to see Rebecca’s judgemental face again - even less so when he was obsessing about something new.

Of course he’d run into Yugi trying to get out of Kaiba Corp. ‘Run into’ was a fairly apt description as he’d more or less crashed into Yugi. “Watch where you’re going,” Yugi snapped as he got up from the floor. Unfortunately for Seto, Yugi had his sleeves rolled up, revealing that he, indeed, had nice arms. “Are you just gonna stare at me like an idiot or are you going to get up?”

Must Yugi be so insulting? Surely he wasn’t staring at Yugi for that long. “You could have moved,” Kaiba retorted. “Why didn’t you move?”

“I was walking the hallway the way a normal person does,” Yugi said, still having to stare upwards to properly look Kaiba in the eyes. Sure, Yugi was no longer five foot even. Seto, however, was still six foot one and had a height advantage still. Seto was grateful for that. He didn’t know if he could have handled it if Yugi could look him right in the eye without craning his neck upwards. “You were the one who came running down the hallway like a madman. What are you in such a hurry for?”

“I’m not,” Seto said, unhappy that he was obviously blushing. He was, indeed, in a hurry to get out of here. He needed some alone time to think. “I just… have to go.”

Yugi tilted his head and Seto was a little annoyed at how similar it was to the Pharaoh’s head tilt. Must they both have such similar hair? Such similar features? It made it difficult to tell if the feelings Seto was having was simply because of how he’d felt for the Pharaoh or because of something uniquely Yugi.

“You just got here only a few hours ago,” Yugi said, as if trying to puzzle something out. Seto felt instantly exposed. “Why would you rush back home when you’d spent so long trying to even get these part time hours? You know, Mokuba seems to think you and Rebecca don’t get along. Is that not the case?”

Why was Mokuba telling Yugi about how he and Rebecca were getting along? Why would Yugi care? It was none of his business. “It’s none of your business,” Seto snapped. “You shouldn’t be poking in other people’s business.”

“It’s my business if my friend’s girlfriend and my friend’s brother aren’t getting along,” Yugi said, a vaguely amused look on his face. “You know, friends tend to care about things like that. Have you forgotten that Mokuba and I are friends?”

It took Seto awhile to realize that “my friend’s brother” referred to him. There had once been a point when Yugi would visit him when he was in the hospital. This time, Yugi had only visited once and it had been with Mokuba. Had Yugi given up on him? He didn’t know why that thought hurt. “No,” Seto said, clipped. “I hadn’t forgotten.”

“Then are you and Rebecca getting along?”

Seto paused. The truth of it was that Yugi was absolutely right - he and Rebecca were not getting along well. In fact, he’d been considering getting a hotel room for the longest time now. Unfortunately, he had to wait to get his credit cards reissued and a new ID. He’d gotten the new ID yesterday. It had felt strange to look at his passport and see that it claimed he was twenty-one. Time had passed for the rest of the world and stood still for him. Yugi and he were now years apart. Mokuba had grown up in his absence and was now eighteen. It tore him apart. It was unimportant.

“We’re getting along just fine,” Seto said. He wanted to ask why Yugi no longer considered them friends. He was scared of the answer. “Are you done prying?”

Why were Yugi’s eyes like that? He swore that the depth of them might drown him. He swore Yugi knew more than he ever let on. “Suppose I am,” Yugi said. Seto tried to avoid noting the shape of Yugi’s lips when they formed words. He wondered if Yugi was still as good at Dueling as he was four years ago. “You should tell Mokuba you’re leaving early.”

He couldn’t get out of the building fast enough. Maybe it was weird to show up at a hotel and demand a room for the night without any luggage but Seto couldn’t find it in him to care about the optics. The room they’d given him had a single bed and was as empty as any hotel might be. He threw himself onto the bed, looking up at the plain ceiling as the thoughts swirled through his head. He couldn’t stop thinking about the AI taking on the proper form of the Pharaoh and it was an uncomfortable thought. He thought about the thoughts he never tried to think about. The ones that entered his head when he was all alone with no buffers.

Seto hated that these thoughts still had control over him. He refused to let them hold him. He wouldn’t let them hold him. And yet… he couldn’t help but go right back to the thoughts of the Pharaoh’s arms… wondering how his hands might feel on him. A weakness he might never be able to get rid of. He was alarmed when the fantasy managed to warp as the memory of Yugi’s sharp, all knowing eyes came back up. Yugi, who could always see right through him. He didn’t care. He wouldn’t care. Why didn’t Yugi consider them friends anymore? At one point, Yugi had been so insistent on shoving friendship upon Seto. So insistent that they were friends regardless of Seto’s objections.

Now he ached for what he didn’t realize he’d miss. Had he lost out on any chance of fixing that relationship? All he knew was that he desperately needed a cold shower right now.

“Kaiba left early,” Yugi said as he entered Mokuba’s office, tossing the new proposal for Spherium II onto the young CEO’s desk. Mokuba actually looked a little tired. He wondered if the stress was finally getting to Mokuba. “I got the new proposal done, by the way.”

Mokuba glanced up from his computer. “I guess he didn’t appreciate the adjustments you made to the AI’s deck,” Mokuba remarked. “I’ll take a look over the proposal. Did you decide on a new deck for the AI?”

“How did the AI work with the Exodia deck,” Yugi asked as he flopped right into one of the chairs Mokuba had for guests. He didn’t know how this office looked when Seto occupied it but Mokuba had touches of his personality all over the place. The glass cases were filled with hundreds of Capsule Monsters and the oak bookshelves had comic books which Mokuba had been collecting since he was a kid. The chairs were all the same - comfy and oversized. “If it can’t handle the Exodia deck, then we can’t start on more complex archetypes.”

“Seems it pulled off a first turn kill against Seto,” Mokuba said as he turned the monitor around so Yugi could see what was on it. A recording of Seto’s duel played and Yugi’s heart constricted as he noted that the AI now looked exactly as Atem did in life. He tried to ignore that as the AI immediately pulled through the draw combo, obtaining all five pieces in exactly one turn as Mokuba said. “What were you thinking for the next deck?”

Yugi grinned as he looked over at Mokuba. “There’s a few decks that I’m sure will keep Kaiba from noticing anything amiss for the next time he Duels the AI but… there’s one archetype in particular that I’m certain Kaiba will just love.”

Seto knew that he wasn’t making good choices right now but it seemed like every time he dueled the Pharaoh now, he was getting more familiar with the current cards. He found that the AI was rapidly improving in its ability to play other decks. This was something Seto was excited about. Something in his code was responding well to being given new decks to use. It was like Dueling an actual, living person that was capable of understanding card advantage and how to best use the cards in the deck.

Coupling this with the fact that Seto was still trying to get back into the swing of things, he had a perfect excuse for why he needed to keep Dueling the Pharaoh. After all, it’d been four years. He needed practice to get better at the game. If he ever hoped to return to the tournament circuit, this was what he needed to do. That was what he told himself, anyway.

He had a long list of excuses as to why this made perfect sense to do. Sure, kc_blimp had a lot of helpful insights as to what the new meta was but… as far as Seto was concerned, the best way to learn the new archetypes was to actually Duel them.

That was all there was to it. As usual, the Pharaoh was smirking when Kaiba entered the room. This time, however, the room was the palace throne room where Kaiba had challenged Atem. He’d long accepted that the room seemed to change. He made a mental note to examine the code later to see if he could make it more stable rather than randomizing locations from his memories.

“Kaiba,” the Pharaoh said with a slight nod, his earrings twinkling in the light and making quiet clacking noises against the gold on his neck. “I see you’re here for another beat down. You know, you’ve gotten worse at Dueling.”

“Shut up,” Seto said, his cheeks turning pink. It was hard to remain stoic when he knew that the Pharaoh had a point. He hadn’t managed to actually beat any of the modern control decks he’d given the Pharaoh. In this new meta, he discovered aggressiveness was indeed better but the Pharaoh was prepared for this strategy. This was actually useful, however. The Pharaoh was, after all, the best Duelist Kaiba had ever known. It pushed Kaiba to do better each time and sometimes, he got close. Close enough where he knew the fault had been that he’d misplayed his hand. “Maybe if I go first this time..”

“You’ve tried going first already,” the Pharaoh reminded him, raising a brow as he activated his Duel Disk. “Are you ever going to give up?”

Of course not. Seto was nothing if not stubborn. He had a plan this time, however. He’d recently added Call of the Haunted to his deck, a card that had been at the suggestion of kc_blimp for a beatdown deck. And yet, when he drew his first hand, he knew this was going to be an uphill battle. He remembered that kc_blimp said that if he couldn’t summon any monsters on turn one, he'd basically already lost against a turn two deck. Kaiba already had experience with that kind of humiliating defeat against the Pharaoh already. “I set a card,” Kaiba said, well aware it wouldn’t be enough to set a trap. He needed a chance to summon. “I end my turn.”

“Is that really all you have, Kaiba? I expect better of you,” the Pharaoh said with a jovial smile that made Seto’s heart skip a beat. He reminded himself that this was just a Duel with no deeper meaning to it. “In that case, I’m going to set a card. I’ll activate this card, Dragonmaid Welcome. With it, all my Dragonmaid monsters gain 100 attack and defense for each one I control. That’s not all it does but, well, that’s all you need to know for now. Next I summon Laundry Dragonmaid!”

Kaiba had never heard of any of these cards before. He didn’t recall giving this deck to the Pharaoh but he must have. He was surprised when Laundry Dragonmaid was… a girl with dragon features in a purple outfit. He assumed that she might’ve been considered attractive to someone that happened to like girls. In fact, he noted a lot of the newer decks featured girls that Seto assumed were meant to be attractive. She giggled and winked at Kaiba. He recoiled.

“Is that all,” Kaiba asked, surprised to note that the boost only gave her a 600 attack and that she was a level two monster.

“Oh Kaiba, you know better than to assume that’s all there is to my turn! Her effect activates, sending the top three cards from my deck to my graveyard,” the Pharaoh remarked and discarding the top three cards from his deck.

Was milling part of the Dragonmaid strategy? He remembered kc_blimp stating Lightsworn and Twilightsworn heavily relied on milling and that many newer decks had floating graveyard effects similar to cards he’d used in the past. “Next I’m discarding Dragonmaid Tinkhec to activate her effect and give Laundry Dragonmaid an additional 2000 attack! Now, she’ll attack you directly!”

Laundry Dragonmaid’s gleeful demeanor was perhaps the worst part of the direct attack. It hurt and she laughed as she managed to dig her claws deep into Seto. “So you got a new dragon girlfriend,” Seto hissed as he doubled over, holding his chest while his life points went from 8000 to 5400. He wasn’t doing great and he was livid that part of it was simply because of a poor starting hand. He needed to further examine his deck to see how to best avoid this in the future. “Am I supposed to be jealous?”

“Interesting takeaway,” the Pharaoh noted with a grin and a wink at him that sent a flutter in Kaiba’s chest. He hated that even now, the Pharaoh continued to have an effect on him. “Last I checked, she was definitely flirting with you. I end my turn, by the way.”

Seto growled as he drew a card, examining it. Protector with Eyes of Blue. “Fine,” he said. Laundry Dragonmaid blew him a kiss. Once again, he was irked. Maiden with Eyes of Blue was never this unprofessional. It took him a moment to realize he was berating the behavior hologram of a trading card. Who programmed these Dragonmaid cards? Did they all act like this? He made a mental note to look into who programmed them and have them fired.

“By the way, I’m activating my continuous trap, Dragonmaid Downtime,” the Pharaoh remarked casually, as if asking what Seto planned on having for lunch. “With it, I can bounce your cards back to your hand by simply bouncing my own back to my hand. I’ll return Laundry Dragonmaid and bounce your set card.”

It was then he was reminded of another thing kc_blimp said about most traps carrying floating graveyard effects, thus the desire to avoid actually destroying them. In the same message, kc_blimp also claimed that people should not expect to be able to activate traps on their turn. That it was apparently too slow of a strategy to work and Seto was starting to see why. His card returned to hand and he had no hope of activating it this turn.

“Fine,” Seto said again, noting that Protector’s effect might actually be useful… if he had another Light Tuner or a Blue Eyes White Dragon in his hand. It did, however, have more attack points than the Pharaoh’s Dragonmaid. “I’m summoning Protector with Eyes of Blue to the field!”

The Pharaoh raised a brow, a sly smirk on his face. “Nice card,” the Pharaoh teased. “I would think that your type would be a little more dragon and a little less knight, however.”

“Shut up,” Seto said reflexively, knowing that he shouldn’t attack because he didn’t know the full effects of either continuous card on the field. For all he knew, they could stop him from attacking directly. At the moment, Seto didn’t care. He was flustered and angry. “I’m attacking directly!” To his great surprise, Protector’s direct attack landed, dropping the Pharaoh from 8000 to 7200 life points. Seto gave a light ‘tch’. “Surprised you let me do that.”

Of course the Pharaoh hadn’t even flinched from the attack. He merely shrugged. “I thought I would even the playing field a bit.”

“Whatever you say, Pharaoh,” Seto huffed, unsure what the Pharaoh had planned next. This archetype was unfamiliar to Seto and he still was trying to figure out how the effects synergized without knowing the rest of the decklist. He needed to figure out the win condition of this deck. “I end my turn.”

“My turn, then.” The Pharaoh drew a card, a raised brow appearing on his face. “I’m afraid you’ve been playing right into my hands, Kaiba. I’m discarding Dragonmaid Ernus to activate her effect, allowing me to special summon Laundry Dragonmaid back to the field, leaving me a normal summon! Say hello to Nurse Dragonmaid!”

This time, a low level girl with dragon features in pink appeared, giggling and leaning over to whisper something to Laundry Dragonmaid. Both of them had 800 attack, meaning neither of them could destroy Protector with Eyes of Blue without destroying themselves. What was the Pharaoh playing at? Suddenly, Nurse Dragonmaid winked at Kaiba as Laundry Dragonmaid laughed. “I still have the upper hand,” Kaiba responded, clipped. “You’d have to crash one of your monsters to get my life points and that would reduce the other’s attack by 100.”

Both Dragonmaids looked offended by this statement of fact. “Looks can be deceiving, Kaiba,” the Pharaoh responded. “I’m entering my Battle Phase and that causes Laundry Dragonmaid’s effect to activate, special summoning Dragonmaid Nudyarl! Now Dragonmaid Downtime activates, bouncing Nurse Dragonmaid back to my hand and sending your set card back to your hand!”

Kaiba was surprised as he watched Laundry Dragonmaid transform before his eyes into the massive purple dragon, swirling in front with a snarl. Nurse Dragonmaid gave a cheek wave as she dissolved and Kaiba’s set card once again bounced back to his hand. So much for battle traps, Seto thought acidly. The dragon’s stats were good - a level seven with 2700 attack that could easily destroy his monster. “I see,” Seto said. It seemed that the girls themselves were not there for attack but instead to bring out these new monsters. “Clever.”

“Nudyar, attack Protector with Eyes of Blue,” the Pharaoh said. Instantly, Nudyar’s mouth opened, a stream of water washed away Protector and destroyed him. Kaiba gave a soft ‘tch’ as his life points drained down from 5400 to 3500. He was already calculating in his head what he would need to do to counter something like this. “That ends my turn.”

Kaiba drew and was semi grateful for what he grabbed. “I activate Cards of Consonance to discard the White Stone of Legend,” Kaiba said as he started thinking about the best way to handle what the Pharaoh had out. “That allows me to draw two. And because I discarded the White Stone of Legend, I can add a Blue Eyes White Dragon to my hand. Next, I summon Maiden with Eyes of Blue!”

Maiden appeared, flipping her long white hair over her shoulder and glaring down the massive dragon in front of her. As per usual, she was strictly professional. “You really like your Blue Eyes cards, don’t you,” the Pharaoh remarked, a raised brow. “Just like Priest Set did, actually.”

Seto’s blood went ice cold at the mention of Priest Set. He’d met some of the Priests when he’d journeyed to the afterlife and yet… he still felt a disconnect from the reality of the Pharaoh’s existence. It meant that magic was real. He pushed it aside again. “Whatever,” he responded as he set Call of the Haunted and Rage with Eyes of Blue. Perhaps he might stand a chance. “I set two cards and end my turn.”

“My turn! I resummon Nurse Dragonmaid. And now I activate Dragonmaid Welcome to add Parlor Dragonmaid to my hand. Next I’m discarding Dragonmaid Lorpar to negate Maiden,” the Pharaoh remarked and instantly Seto internally swore.

“You targeted Maiden,” Seto said, well aware that Rage with Eyes of Blue cannot activate now. “Her effect activates, summoning Blue Eyes White Dragon to the field.”

The familiar look of the white glow filled the field from Maiden and Blue Eyes White Dragon came out onto the field, snarling at the Pharaoh. “Ah,” the Pharaoh remarked, a raised brow. “In that case, I’m entering the battle phase, activating Nurse Dragonmaid’s effect to special summon Dragonmaid Enrus! And now I discard Dragonmaid Tinkhec to boost Ernus!”

Dragonmaid Ernus was a dragon of a similar shape to Dragonmaid Nudyarl and unfortunately, when boosted, she now had 4800 attack - more than enough to end the duel. At least now he understood the win condition of the Dragonmaid archetype. Seto closed his eyes, and whispered, “Of course.”

“Enrus attacks Blue Eyes White Dragon,” the Pharaoh said and Seto refused to watch as his Blue Eyes White Dragon was destroyed. Even if he activated Call of the Haunted, it wouldn’t matter. Maiden had 0 attack points and her effect was a hard once per a turn. The effect had been used up and now she was defenseless. Seto had no way of redirecting the attack. “And now Nudyral destroys Maiden!”

“End program,” Seto said quietly as his life points hit 0. When he opened his eyes, he was standing in an empty room and left with only thoughts of how to best rearrange his deck. Focusing on that helped as he turned and walked out.

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