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antimony-medusa · 6 months

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on Consequences in minecraft streaming

Okay so one of the real common things that I've been seeing lately is an increasingly passionate call for certain characters to experience Consequences (and the rest of the post always makes it clear that they mean a specific type of definatively negative repercussions) for their actions during QSMP events. And aside from the absolute deja vu of having seen these same calls when DSMP was airing, and how that turned out (sorry, the syndicate did not all have a meeting where they apologized for their sins while tommy told them they were horrible people), I'm not 100% sure if that's going to happen or pan out in the exact way that I think people are aiming for and expecting will happen.

I keep seeing a lot of people saying that it would be bad writing if people don't get "consequences" for their actions, and what they're specifically asking for is punishment and for people to realize what they're doing was wrong. BBH is supposed to repent for furniture thefts and torturing the people keeping him from his kid. Phil is supposed to realize that actually he's good at PVP and apologize for saying that his team has been suffering in purgatory. Tubbo is supposed to fill in his tubhole and only do things other people ask him to do.

But like, so much of the time, what we're seeing is these streamers being interested in writing morally grey characters, just some little guys who make bad decisions, and the thing about characters being morally grey is that they don't always have a come to jesus moment and become morally pure. Sometimes they just keep being morally grey. Sometimes they get worse on purpose.

Maybe BBH never decides that torturing that guy was bad, because he wanted to get his FUCKING KID back. Like, I seriously think you have to be prepared for that character arc to never end in Bad going "that was wrong to do", and maybe his cubito will still be happy. Phil is a dude with anxiety who's been sure that his kids are going to die from the moment he got to purgatory, streaming at 1-4 in the morning while other teams break into their base, even if bolas goes insane and scrapes out a win I think it's way more likely that that team is gonna go "what a wild fluke that's the power of gas masks" and not have a moment where they go "it was unfair of us to assume that we were underpowered, I guess everybody else was the underdogs! Our bad." Tubbo is tubbo, he's already building a new create thing, he is not going to apologize for leaving marks on the landscape with mod packs.

Like, the streamers are interested in making human characters, making interesting decisions, not communicating moral lessons to their fanbases. Bad is operating within a Taken film, not a sermon. Quackity wants his cubito to be pathetic, gay, and out for revenge, not to communicate the importance of forgiveness to those who hurt you. Tubbo's victory condition is having a nice date with Fred, full stop, does not care who he has to run over to get there.

Absolutely I think there are people intentionally doing corruption/villany arcs on the server, and they probably intend for that to lead places. There will be Consequences, as in, things will happen. Cellbit is doing cannibalsm on purpose, and not as a teaching moment about how good cannibalism is for your social bonds. But like, maybe that leads to him being thrown out of his family and not trusted because of his sins, OR maybe it leads to him murdering his way through a federation complex, facing down a bloody cucurucho, and going "you made me into you and I hate this" and eating him. Narrative consequences does not always mean punishment and a return to moral purity. Sometimes people just do bad things, and then repercussions happen, but they don't necessarily "see the error of their ways". The specific call for like— retribution and repentance as the consequences people are going for— for punishment— if a character has done something bad they don't "deserve" good things to happen to them and it's bad writing for that to happen— I just don't think that those are the stories the creators are necessarily interested in telling.

And secondly, what people are often asking for is character conflict— they want people to be socially excluded by characters they feel have been wronged, and learn the error of their ways that way until they apologize sufficiently. Phil is gonna hate BBH or Tubbo is going to hate Roier or something once they return from Purgatory. People want their cubitos to have beef with each other.

But the thing is, on a meta level, I don't doubt that the entire admin team and streaming team on QSMP is just screamingly aware that this fandom cannot be trusted with conflict. The election was just part of it, but I made it through the election, and Purgatory has been so much more unpleasant— and I am not just talking about twitter. This website, tumblr, has been full of people fighting each other for their teams. And I am not just saying "red team fans have been bad", because boy have I been staring in horrified awe at the takes that some red team people have been putting forward (what on EARTH do you mean BBH deserves to have his kid die, touch grass immediately), but if I step outside of red team circles, everyone is talking about how red team people are horrible hypocrites who win too much and only deserve to suffer (I saw this posting the day that blue had back to back wins, so it isn't even tied to how well red is doing). The quality of the discourse has been increasingly unpleasant, and this has been taking place in streamer's chats, on twitter, in discords, and here on tumblr.

Every QSMP streamer is increasingly aware that having conflict with another streamer is basically sending a wave of negativity their way, and setting off bombs in the fandom at the same time. And they're all friends with each other! Sometimes they decide that the story beat they're going for is worth it and just tell each other to stay off twitter, but like, you have got to be prepared that maybe they will just be friends again. And that might be weaker writing, for people to keep forgiving each other, but that is an unfortunate aspect of the technical aspects of this medium and this fandom. Maybe the creators would be more willing to have character conflict if they didn't know that that meant the person they were mad at in-game would get death threats on social media.

Like no fucking wonder Phil apologized for getting mad at Wil within the same stream and before Wil said sorry to him. This is why the French have given up on revolution arcs, you know it's why the women are all very careful to get along with people. All of those creators know the cost of making anyone into a villain, and I'm just saying maybe get prepared that we won't have inner-party conflict. Maybe they'll decide it's worth it for a fun story moment! Maybe they won't. Maybe don't get 100% married to the idea that the only good writing possible moving forward is for people to be thrown out of the community and then repent for their sins.

#qsmp #fandom meta #discourse #negativity #this is also just screamingly culturally christian of you but that lies beyond the scope of this post #cw cannibalism

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cdyssey · 1 year

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It's that tiny, baby goat named Bruce being brown and furry, like the pelt Shauna Shipman wrapped her dead baby in.

It's the fact that it's a boy goat too.

It's her immediate and irrational fear—upon even hearing the word sacrifice—that she's going to have to kill the kid. The goat. The baby. This precious, innocent life in her care. Because everything she loves gets taken away from her, doesn't it?

All her fault.

Every last bit of it.

She can't have anything that she doesn't eventually hurt.

(And yes, it's about Jackie. It's always about Jackie, even when she swears that it's not. Jackie, her first victim. Jackie, her first love.)

(She's wearing her shirt in this episode. She's wearing her life in this whole damn series.)

It's her sitting alone in the woods, disassociating, triggered by a goddamn goat, and it's her utter panic when she realizes that he's missing.

It's Misty telling her, “Well, you’re not that innocent either.”

And it's her so bitterly replying, “Do you think I don’t know that?” as she frantically searches for Bruce, yet another living creature that she thinks she’s failed.

It's the tenderness with which she holds him when she finds him again, mothering him so gently. She tells him—this goat—that he's delusional and dumb if he thinks she's gonna hold him all day, but then she fucking does it! She holds him! She cradles him to her chest like a baby, and it's so lovely.

But it's so, so sad too.

Because it's her pleading with the barn worker to make sure that the goat is okay; she doesn't trust her ability to take care of him; she'll fucking lose it if he gets hurt in her care.

And it's this guy robotically replying, "The kid’s care is entwined with your own." And it’s the way that Shauna's pupils immediately blow, and we intimately understand—well before she tells Lottie—that she's thinking about that baby in the woods.

And she's thinking about Callie.

And she's thinking that if this much is true—if her ability to care for herself is the metric by which she can care for a kid—then, of course, her children are so totally fucked.

With her as a mother, they were doomed from the very start.

(Relatedly, it’s Melanie Lynskey saying in an interview: “I don’t think Shauna’s really disappointed in people. I think she’s disappointed in herself. She takes things out on herself, and she just feels kind of fundamentally unlovable.”)

It’s her confrontation with Lottie, which is charged with their fraught and bloody past, by Lottie's obsession with the wilderness baby, by the dream where the baby is cannibalized, by Lottie's willingness to become both Shauna's punching bag and martyr.

It's the tears that run down her face as she says, as she confesses:

"I’m not crying about the goat. I don’t really know, um, what’s happening right now. Um, I think it’s just that I’ve always kept my daughter, you know, Callie, like, at arm’s length. I think just out of fear that she would… die, I guess. Or maybe that she was never even real to begin with. I don’t know. I try to tell myself it’s okay. That I’m safe to… to think of her as-as mine, you know, and to just be her mom. But I think something is broken, Lottie. I just can’t do it.

God, it’s how every line of this monologue is so fucking broken and raw. She told that bastard cop that she's just not very good at loving her daughter, and here is both the reason why and the brutal extent. In the woods, her baby died, but for just a brief moment, in the tantalizing spaces of that dream turned hellish nightmare, he lived. But then he died again; he was consumed; or was he?

No.

Abso-fucking-lutely-yes, but not in the way that Shauna could have ever conceived.

Because this is the idea that she can't think of Callie as her own when that first baby was never hers either.

Not really.

Our baby, Lottie had called him. He was their communal savior, their shining hope, their personal Jesus who didn’t live.

And Shauna's singular moment alone with him had been a cruel fantasy too.

It's her murderous rage at his death, the violence that such grief engenders in her, which in and of itself is an echo of Misty's Steel Magnolias monologue—the way she wants to hit someone until they feel as bad as they do.

It’s how she can't allow herself to love Callie completely because of her fundamental incapacity to discern reality from the nightmare. In the cabin, she accuses them all of killing her baby. Every goddamn day she fears that her daughter will die, if she even exists at all.

It's the panic in her eyes when she clutches the phone and asks Jeff if Callie is okay all the same.

Because that's her first instinct, her immediate assumption.

That something with her daughter is horribly wrong.

And that's the crux in the end, the horrible conclusion to all these frayed and tangled threads.

Something going wrong is the only reality that Shauna Shipman can ever reliably count upon. The entirety of her life is an open, gushing wound.

#shauna shipman #callie sadecki #s: yellowjackets #Yellowjackets #Yellowjackets spoilers #I am genuinely gutted by this entire episode #cannibalism tw #baby death tw #maggie blogs

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ladykailitha · 10 months

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Royal Pain Part 8

Hello! I don’t know if it’s that it’s summer or what, but I’ve seen a sharp decline on my stories, so I just wanted to check and make sure everyone was okay. Take care of yourselves.

The hunt for the new apprentices start, they make room, and Eddie and Steve talk the design for the tattoo.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

***

Steve got the biggest, most caffeinated drink on the menu and had downed half of it before he pulled up to Erica’s apartment complex. He put his in the cupholder and then grabbed the tray with Robin and Erica’s coffees plus breakfast.

He trotted up the stairs to Erica’s apartment and knocked on the door. Erica answered the door groggily. She spotted coffee first and grabbed it out his grasp.

Robin took her coffee gratefully from Erica as Steve pulled out their breakfast.

“Bacon, egg, and cheddar on an English muffin for Robin,” he said handing to her. “Fruit salad with whip cream for me and a sausage, egg, and Swiss on a croissant for Erica.”

Again Erica made grabby hands at Steve, who handed it to her.

Once they were fed and on their way, Erica asked, “So what’s all this about anyway?”

Steve looked at her through the rearview mirror. “I’m thinking of taking on a couple of apprentices at the shop so I can focus on doing a large back tattoo.”

“Suzie was telling the truth?” Erica gasped. “Holy shit. I thought she was making shit up. Because there was no way you are cool enough to do a back tattoo for Eddie Munson.”

Steve turned around and glared at her.

Robin smacked him. “Turn around and drive, dingus. I would rather not die today, thanks.”

Erica stuck her tongue at him and he tapped the breaks to get back at her.

“You should let me apprentice for you,” she said as they pulled up to Will’s apartment building. “I have the steadiest hands, from all those years painting tiny ass figures for D&D.”

Steve sighed. “I was hoping to find people who have already started working toward being a tattoo artist, but failing that, I guess I could teach you.”

He got out of the car and leaned back in. “I swear to god, if either of you touch my coffee, you’ll be walking home from here.”

He slammed the door.

“How serious do you think he was?” Erica asked, eyeing the caffeinated beverage with want.

“Don’t try it,” Robin warned her. “The last time someone messed with his coffee, he drove them to the complete other side of town and told them they could find their own way home.”

“Who was this?” Erica asked, rolling her eyes. “Mike?”

Robin twisted in her seat to look Erica in the eye. “Dustin.”

Erica looked at the coffee in the cup holder and then nodded. “Right. No touching the coffee.”

“Smart girl.”

Will and Steve came out moments later, so there wasn’t really time to mess with the coffee, anyway.

“Erica,” Steve said after opening the door again. “We’re going to divide and conquer. You’re going to go with Will to the colleges and shit. Robin and I are going to hit up the bars and clubs. We’ll meet at Nicki’s Diner for lunch in about three or so hours.”

Erica saluted and got out of the car to go with Will. “Roger, roger!”

Steve put his stack of fliers on the back seat and got into his car. He waved at Will and Erica and then drove off.

They had made a list Sunday night and started at one end of town and worked their way through asking if they could put up their flier. At some of the trendier bars and clubs they got turned down, but most of them let them put it up on their community boards.

They are both tired and hungry by the time they make it to Nicki’s to meet up with Will and Erica.

“We managed to put up every flier we had,” Erica said proudly.

“Yeah,” Will said, “I even had to print out ten more to hand out.”

Steve and Robin shared a glance.

“Wait, really?” Steve asked. “Robin and me barely got through our stack.”

Will nodded. “I’m so happy you’re doing this. I’ve been telling you for the last year to get more people in your shop.”

Steve sighed, pulling up the menu to look it over. “I know. I’m actually really excited about this. I probably won’t get more than a couple applicants but even if it’s just me training someone how to tattoo, they can at least do initial sessions of talking out ideas and shit for the clients that will take more than one session. Or even start offering henna that they could practice with in the mean time.”

“Me and my friends do henna all the time,” Erica said. “It’s fun trying to find colors that show up on darker skin tones.”

Steve straightened up. “Oh. Now that’s an idea. Jeff was telling me that it was hard to find a tattoo artist that could do dark skin, because a lot of artists forget that black on black doesn’t show up.” He looked at her and rubbed his lip thoughtfully.

“Would you be willing to do henna at my shop?” he asked. “I’d be able to pay you.”

Erica and Robin shared a glance.

“Does this mean you won’t teach me how to tattoo?” she asked, eyeing him sidelong.

Steve shook his head. “If you want to learn, I’ll teach you. I just don’t want this to be a fun summer thing for you and then when you go back to school in the fall, you never pick up a tattoo gun ever again.”

Erica paused. “Oh. I see what you mean.” She thought about it for a moment before she nodded. “For this summer at least, I’ll stick to the henna and if after this summer is over, I can pick whether to go back to school or stay with you and train to be tattoo artist.”

Steve stuck out his hand and she shook it.

He paid for all their lunch as thank you for helping him put up the fliers.

They spent the rest of the day clearing out the other rooms that would be used for the new artists. They got the chairs set up and them set up to take clients. Most of the stuff was already there, just waiting for Steve to make the decision to hire more people.

They took to cleaning and decorating the rooms to match the rest of the of shop.

They ended up ordering pizza and continued to work until late at night. Finally it was all done. This was the easy part. The hard part was waiting to see if anyone would answer the flier. Or their online messages.

Steve took the younger adults home and then practically crawled up the stairs to the apartment with Robin.

“You know this is entirely your fault,” she said, totally devoid of sympathy. “You didn’t have to spend all night talking to Eddie. You could have stopped at any time and actually got some sleep.”

Steve didn’t even bother rolling his eyes he was that tired. “Just let me die in peace, please.”

Robin pushed him in the direction of their bathroom. “Take a shower at least, dude. And then crash. You’ll thank me and yourself in the morning.”

Steve nodded, already swaying on his feet. He got into the shower and let the heat wash over of his tired, aching body and sighed in relief. He carefully washed his hair, but only did a perfunctory scrub down of his body.

He got out and smiled when he saw that Robin had placed his pajamas in there while he was showering. He pulled on the clothes she set out for him and padded back out to their apartment in bare feet.

“Feel better?” Robin asked from their sofa.

Steve sighed. “Yeah, yeah. It has long been established that you are smarter than me.”

“Hell, yeah,” she said with a grin. “Now go to bed before you pass out on the carpet.”

Steve nodded and went to do as he was told.

He slept deeply for the first time in a long time.

Steve tried not to let his anticipation get to him as he worked on other tattoos, waiting for Eddie to come in. He was pretty sure he failed judging from the smirk on Robin’s face when Eddie finally arrived.

“Hey, Eds!” he greeted cheerfully. “We’ll go over some ideas I had and I can start laying the ground work for those wings of yours.”

Eddie grinned. “I can’t wait to see what you have for me, big boy!”

Robin raised an eyebrow at the pet name, but wisely said nothing as Steve led Eddie back to Steve’s work station.

“I saw the other rooms were opened,” Eddie said as he took a seat. “You’re really serious about the getting more people in here to work for you, huh?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, I’m a little nervous, but mostly? I’m hella excited.”

Eddie smiled fondly at him. “Certainly sounds like it. Show me what you got.” He made grabby hands at the drawing book Steve had picked up.

“You have any ideas of your own that you’d want to do or thoughts on what you think it should look like?” Steve asked flipping to the start of his ideas for Eddie’s tattoo.

He shook his head. “Not really, other than size. I want them all the way down my back.”

Steve nodded again. “I wasn’t sure, so there are a couple of wings that are just on the shoulder blades. You can ignore those.”

Eddie was looking at the different styles of wings and inward facing verses outward facing when a small piece of paper fluttered out of the book on the floor. He bent over to pick it and was opening it when Steve snatched it out his hand.

“Um...” Steve said. “That’s not really anything, just a stupid idea I had after listening to you talking to Dustin on Sunday.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “Come on, I want to see it. I promise not to laugh or poke fun.”

Steve held to his chest for a moment and then handed the paper back to Eddie, heart in hand.

Eddie opened the paper up and there was a close to accurate rendition of his back with a pair of leathery bat wings, just like a lot of the designs in the drawing book. But in the middle of the two wings along the spine was a sword. It was a one-handed sword with a wavy blade that started at the base of the spine with the hilt and went all the way up to the nape of the neck with the point. The cross guard was in the shape of a bat and it was black.

It was beautiful.

“Holy fuck, Stevie,” Eddie said, breathless. “What is this?”

Steve blushed. “It’s the sword of Kas.I was thinking on one side of the blade have it say bloody-handed crossed out and then other side have it say betrayer.”

“This.” Eddie tapped the paper. “I want this. All of this. Including what you just said about the words. I want it.”

Steve’s jaw dropped and then he gulped. “It’s going to cost an awful lot. Like more then you were probably planning on spending, though.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Sweetheart, I’ve been saving up for this tattoo for years. I have roughly four thousand saved up. I don’t think it’s going to be the problem you think it will.”

Steve gently took back the paper. “You really want to do this?”

“Yeah, I really, really do,” Eddie said, smiling up at him.

A slow, sweet smile blossomed on Steve’s face. “All right. Let me scan this so I can print out the stencils and we’ll get started.”

“I can’t hardly wait.”

***

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @renaissan-vvitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @aizawa-emma @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @archermightbegay @hallucinatedjosten @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #tattoo artist steve #ladykailtiha writes #trying hard not to take it personally #that i've been seeing less and less #people interacting with my stories #anxiety is a bitch

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rinadragomir · 9 months

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It's me trying to convince y'all to get invested in the Sword Catcher, read it all cause I tried!

1) I need someone to talk about it + see your theories/memes/edits, I NEED MY FRIENDS IN THIS FANDOM okay?!

2) listen, we have to wait about 2 years before The Wicked Powers, let's try to distract ourselves with something exciting!!

Reviews from George Martin (my beloved, listen, this man knows a good fantasy book when he sees one, trust him), Holly Black and Leigh Bardugo

Synopsis (read the full detailed version here):

In the vibrant city-state of Castellane, a young orphan named Kel is stolen from his old life to enter a new one of luxury and peril. He’s to become Prince Conor Aurelian’s body-double, shielding the Prince from all dangers. As his ‘Sword Catcher,’ he and Conor become close as brothers – yet Kel lives for one purpose: to die for Conor.

Lin Caster is an Ashkar physician, part of a community ostracised for its rare magical abilities. But events pull her and Kel together and into the web of the mysterious Ragpicker King who rules Castellane’s criminal underworld.

Together, they’ll discover an extraordinary conspiracy. But can forbidden love bring down a kingdom? And will their discoveries plunge their nation into war and the world into chaos?

Here, a boy lives to protect his Prince with his life. A girl is destined to return lost magic to the world. A Prince must choose between his heart and his duty. And thrumming beneath it all, the heartbeat of a city unlike any other. Welcome to Castellane.

Known characters: (from top to bottom, from left to right, please appreciate the wonderful arts below)

Kellian Saren - our protagonist~ was kidnapped from his family when he was 5 and brought to the palace in order to be the Sword Catcher, the body double for the Crown Prince(🏳️‍🌈?). Used to have a crush on Antonetta, now too busy spending time with Prince Conor (🏳️‍🌈?). Big spoon energy

YOU'LL SAY: Rina... bestie he looks exactly like the second guy a bit lower, why so many Will Herondale cosplayers🤨 YES YES, THAT'S THE POINT, THEY HAVE TO LOOK ALIKE, IT'S LIKE Keira Knightley and Natalie Portman in Star Wars

Lin Caster - female protagonist, doctor, is skilled in healing magic (Catarina & Clary's daughter🤨?). There is a prophecy surrounding her, that says a very powerful goddess would return one day and it would be one of the girls from her community, ~possibly her~

Antonetta Alleyne - Heir to the wealthy silk charter, her mother dotes on her, dressing her in lace and grooming her to marry Prince Conor (the next guy). Her, Kel and Conor used to have this gang😎 when they were kids, but then her mother decided to turn her into a Kendall Jenner and now she's 💅🏻not like other girls💅🏻 and makes this ew sound everytime our protagonist walks by (secretly feels something else towards him....I guess?...)

Conor Aurelian - our Prince🤴🏻definition of: So you're a tough guy, Like it really rough guy, Just can't get enough guy, Chest always so puffed guy. What else? Oh, everyone tries to kill him and he hides behind his boyfriend's back. Little spoon energy

Joss Falconet - some lazy whore, idk. He has been friends with Conor and Kel since they were all small children. He loves parties, a good time, and ridiculous exploits, but there may be rather more to him…Matthew Fairchild core?👀✨ maybe....

The Ragpicker King - he's so 😋😩🤤he lives his dark emo girl aesthetic life. Doesn’t have a name or real identity. He lives in a big black mansion in the middle of Castellane and runs the crime scene. My future husband btw

Merren Asper - part-time student, full-time poisoner, and hopeless romantic. Merren has a dreamy, cheerful personality, despite being a poisoner. Well good for him, god bless🌿 he seems like a mixture of Kit Herondale and Wylan Van Eck

I'm going to update this post in case Cassie shares some new information!

The first book comes out on October 10 THIS YEAR so~ you can pre-order🌟✨for example, I can't so I'll just wait till someone sends it to me once it's out.

I REALLY hope I managed to get you slightly invested. It seems like a really nice fantasy series and I'd like to support Cassie's new work. She gave us our beloved TSC world and I have a strong faith in her. I know it's hard to dive into a new series but let's give it a chance!

@chibi-tsukiko @hahahax30 @roseofthomas @queenhelenblackthorn @not--a--pipedream @tea-and-a-clandestine-agenda @spacehero-23 @tys-kitty @carelessflower @dustandducks @one-fond-mortal @magnus-the-maqnificent @delightfullyterrible @learningshelfcontrol @thewolfnephilim @literallytypogod @gayforcarstairsgirls @clockworkbee @elettralightwood @captainswanandclintasha @radisv @lord-jethro @luciehercndale @bytheangell

#sword catcher #cassadra clare #the wicked powers #tsc #merren asper #the ragpicker king #joss falconet #Conor Aurelian #Lin Caster #Antonetta Alleyne #Kellian Saren

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hetalia-club · 7 months

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I'm not normally one to rant or anything but here goes.

I hesitate to tag this. but I feel it needs to be said, in fact I feel it HAS to be said or I think this fandom is just going to be done for within the next 5 or so years. People need to read this and understand what is happening within the fandom and not continue this behavior or turn a blind eye to it.

This fandom has a SERIOUS problem. I don't say that lightly either. I feel like 99% of this fandom are sweet and caring people. but we have that 1%.

This 1% is killing the community in this fandom. How is it okay to message someone, demand they make a statement on THEIR blog and when they say they don't want to talk about it you then tell them you wish they would die a horrible death?

TW for suicide and SA! (you have been warned) Long rant below. (preempted note to let everyone know that I am fine, I am not posting this for people to feel bad for me. I am using my own experiences as examples, but this is not a 'me' issue this is a fandom issue)

Why is that so normalized here? The vague blogging and the call to arms people in this fandom do is actually disgusting. Picking one person and just beating them down until they eventually leave the fandom and at the SAME people will be like. "Why is the Hetalia fandom so small?" Who wants to be in a fandom where making one statement that's not even bad could get you death threats?

I don't think the fandom realizes how hurtful what they say can be. Sure you might not have liked a post someone made because you disagreed. Well then scroll down, hit the block button and carry on with your life. Why do some of you feel it is acceptable behavior to make mass posts calling out someone or going into their inbox to tell them you wish they would kill themselves?

I say I don't like Spamano and people say they want me dead. I say I don't want to talk about IRL politics on my parody Hetalia blog and my life and entire country is threatened.

I say we shouldn't insert our ships into everyone's lives and let people ship what they want and not feel forced to appease you. and you guessed it people wish terrible things onto me and my body.

I feel the only way this behavior will change is if we start calling it out more. I know it will feel repetitive but I think ignoring it is only making it worse at this point.

I know a lot of people would read this and think "If you don't like it then leave the fandom" well YOU'RE the issue. This is not normal behavior. These are not actions of someone who is mentality well. Why should I leave a fandom I've been in for 10 years because some idiot cannot handle that I don't like shipping characters together? How is that impacting their life at all?

a few months ago I made a post and it was highjacked and someone totally just took it over and added their own thing onto it talking about SA. Totally out of left field not related to what I posted at all. I simply messaged them and asked them if they could please remove the comment as I am a survivor of SA and it don't think it was funny or appropriate to add onto my post and they just said. "No I can say anything I want to. I was talking about Hetalia so it's fine." like what do you mean no!? Who responds that way? What a normal considerate person would do is say "I'm sorry of course! I can just go make my own post." but no they just left it there. It's still there, won't say which post or who it was because it doesn't matter anymore.

But this is the kind of behavior I'm talking about. This weird entitlement of everyone being so defensive and angry all the time. Just wanting to pick a fight over nothing. You never know if simply saying something like (Example) "I don't really like Austria" Could land you 100 anons all saying they wanted you to off yourself. It's like a game of Russian roulette. It's a very stressful environment for a big creator to be in. All it really takes is the wrong person to see a post you made and disagreed with and all of a sudden they are making posts about you without mentioning your name but are CLEARLY about you saying "This person hates all Austrians, they are a neo-nazi and we should all block them and send them hate and also let's just reword what they said to make it sound 100x worse because people won't read the original post and they will just believe us." Who would want to be a creator in an environment like that?

would you believe me if I told you I still to this day am getting someone in my inbox calling for my r*pe because of the stupid fucking beauty pageant poll I did? Is that not insanity? Who is that person? Wtf is their life? I personally could not imagine sending hate to anyone for any reason, and if I did it would be off of anon and I would say it with my chest. Because in order for someone to push it that far they would have to saying some absolutely terrible stuff to make me take time from my day and life to give them negative energy.

The fandom is shrinking because of the 1% driving them away. They come after artists who draw a character in a way they don't like. They come after writers for depicting a character in a way they disagree with. They go after shippers for portraying their ship 'wrong'. They will comment on people's fun little head canons and just leave the rudest most unnecessary comments thinks like "He wouldn't do that" like okay?? Thanks for your insert betty sue. And it's always when you were never trying to set someone off is when they lose their minds. They do not understand even if a blog is big and has a lot of followers it is still THAT creators blog. they are a person not an identity who just churns out content for just you and they have to say and do whatever you want.

Another thing the 1% like to do on here is they will wait for you to say something and then they will jump to attack a person who does the thing you said you dislike and they will tell that person "blog name XYZ said you are a horrible person and I agree kill yourself" That one is a near direct quote I got not too long ago. I got several like that and actually had to message said creator and say "Why are you mad at me?" and they were completely confused, had no idea how they decided to attack me because of what they said. When I tell you that the 1% are sitting there frothing at the mouth wanting to send hate and death threats I mean that 100%

It's not JUST me either. All creators in the Hetalia fandom I'm sure could tell you about upsetting hate they received and had no idea what they even did or said wrong. I have spoken to former Hetalia blogs ones who I used to call my pals before I went on my hiatus and came back. They all said they left not because they started hating Hetalia but they left for their mental health because the 1% got too bold and unchecked. This was never an issue before quarantine. I know it brought a lot of new fans and that's great! But I also feel along with bringing in some wonderful people it brought in some really dark minded people as well. Saying "Just disable anons and move on" is also not a solution. these people are still here and if they're not bothering me or you they are tormenting someone else because that's what these people do. That 'someone else' may only need the tiniest nudge at the edge and they may just actually hurt themselves. You don't know people. You don't know what everyone is going through. You don't know what someone's life is like outside of here.

PLEASE Please! stop telling people to kill themselves. Stop telling people to go get R**ed in a gutter. Get some help talk to a therapist, a friend, a trusted teacher, a life coach, your parents, your sibling. anyone! And if you don't have anyone in your life you can talk to you can message me and we can talk about what you're going through. I'm sure any other Hetalian on here would say the same thing. Bloggers are real people.

International suicide hotlines

Website to help you find a therapist in your own country and in your price range

I know I will more than likely get hate for posting this. Which is upsetting to just know is going to happen but someone needs to say this because it's getting kind of out of control these last couple months I feel.

if you read this through reblog it, spread it around let the people who NEED to see it see it.

#hetalia #this needs to be said #if you are offended here just know YOU are the problem #stop sending threats to people #stop attacking creators

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panfriedstar · 5 months

Text

Heya, I'm Yumi. I'm 23yo and a writer in the one piece fandom. Find me on ao3 and twt

masterlist

COMPLETED FICS

i guess that's love

G rated, Zosan

Chopper doesn’t understand the mating rituals of humans. He has read about every other animal’s and even the most complicated ones are simpler than whatever Zoro and Sanji are doing.

rhythm of a blood drum

T rated, Zosan

Sanji misses a lot during the two years he is separated from his crew. He misses the Sunny, he misses his kitchen, he misses waking up before everyone to prepare breakfast, he misses Luffy’s voice demanding food all the time, he misses making snacks for everyone. Hell, he even misses Luffy picking fights on every damn island and landing them in some kind of trouble.

He misses his crew, but most of all, he misses Zoro.

in dirty dreams, you're the one i want

E rated, Zosan

Sanji has never been an early riser – at least, not before joining Luffy’s crew. He has always had trouble sleeping at night, too much of his past haunted him still. But he is the chef and has to prepare breakfast before Luffy starts chewing on Sunny.

Sanji learns to cherish every second of sleep he can get. So he doesn’t quite appreciate Zoro waking him up earlier than usual.

sink and drown and die

T rated, Zosan

The Moss is wearing a hoodie. Why is the Moss wearing a hoodie? How does the Moss even know what a hoodie is? His eyes follow Zoro’s figure as he stumbles into the galley while rubbing the sleep from his eyes – cute his brain supplies and Sanji internally recoils in disgust, his dark hoodie hanging loosely on his body. Whatever. This is none of Sanji’s business.

can't count the years in one hand

G rated, Zosan

“I can’t believe we’re married,” He blurts out.

Instead of getting offended, Sanji snorts, “Tell me about it.” He tilts his head and gives Zoro an assessing look, “I wonder what I actually see in you.”

“Fuck off,” He says without any heat. “You cried your eyes out during our wedding.”

“Out of despair.”

sounds just like falling in love

G rated, Zosan

Zoro doesn’t get what all the fuss about wedding preparations is. He and the cook love each other. He already proposed. Now all they need is some decent booze and a ginormous cake for Luffy. And Luffy can easily declare them a wed couple with only a few steps since he’s the captain. What else do they need?

According to Sanji, the answer is a lot of other things.

around the sun and around again

G rated, Zosan

“Sanji,” He feels Zoro’s fingers softly creep over his palm and slide between his fingers. He squeezes Sanji’s hand gently, “I’ve missed you.” And Sanji wants to cry.

fascination with you presentation

G rated, Zosan

Zoro jumps off the ship and lands a few feet away from Sanji. He’s changed a lot in the two years. He abandoned his white shirt and green pants and now has settled for a dark green coat that shows off his entire chest with black pants. He has gotten so much bigger, his body broad and muscles bulging. As the fisherman said, a deep scar runs over his left eye shutting it close. But even that’s not the most noticeable change about him.

It’s his hair. What was once short and spiky are now long waves that reach his shoulder. The water turns the hair darker but some strands still shine golden under the sun. it’s wrapped up in a half-bun on top of his head with a wooden hairpin – or maybe that’s a chopstick, who knows – but his bangs are still falling loosely over his eyes. Zoro pushes his wet bangs back with a flick of his hand and those intense grey eyes land on him.

Oh fuck fuck fuck, Sanji is not going to survive this new look of his.

contradiction

E rated, Zosan

“I’ve already offered them something that they couldn’t deny,” Judge declares. “Something that will help them strengthen their position on the Peace Treaty and give them higher power over the Human Community.”

Trust Judge to sell out his own kind for power.

“And what might…that be, Father?” Reiju sounds hesitant and if Sanji pays attention, which he does, also a bit nervous. She shoots him a short glance and Sanji doesn’t understand what it means until Judge answers her question.

glimpse of...

M rated, Acedeuce

The race is close to ending and by the looks of it, Ace is going to win. But Deuce doesn’t say the words aloud, afraid of jinxing their win. He doesn’t need to say it to jinx it though. Because one second, Ace is approaching his win and then the next the worst thing, something straight out of Deuce’s nightmares, goes down.

best wishes to the birthday boy

G rated, ASL, Acelaw, Ace & WB

Ace wakes up on the morning of his birthday to the sun shining on his face and the smell of pancakes coming from the kitchen.

or, It's Ace's birthday and everyone wants to make him happy.

Le paradis à la portée d’un coussin

E rated, Zosan

Sanji knows that Zoro is taunting him. He knows. The Marimo is being a dickhead as usual and he’s saying this just to get a rise out of Sanji. But Sanji still can’t help the way his brain short-circuits. He shivers and his eyes gloss over. He feels breathless and his mouth's as dry as the deserts of Alabasta.

playboy centrefold

E rated, Acedeuce

He tries to guess what Deuce could’ve gotten him. Especially since it’s something that makes him nervous about Ace’s reaction. Is it clothes, or maybe jewellery? Or maybe shoes. But why would any of these things make Deuce nervous? He has really good taste and Ace likes anything he buys. There is no reason for Ace to not like his gift.

The door clicks open and Ace perks up. “That was definitely more than five min–” The rest of the sentence stuck in his throat. Because Deuce opens the door and slowly steps inside the room. He’s wearing…Ace has no bloody idea what he’s wearing. But he looks so fucking good in it that Ace can feel his brain leaking out of his ears.

adoration

E rated, Zosan

Sanji whimpers and presses closer to him. He looks at him with his ridiculous blue eyes that are wide and glowing with unshed tears and a trembling pout on his lips. Zoro can feel the heat rise to his face and it has nothing to do with the sun above shining down on them. He turns his face away so that he doesn’t have to look at the cook’s face anymore. The cook–Sanji is…he’s so cute.

or, five times Zoro thinks Sanji is adorable and one time he tells Sanji that.

frozen devotion

E rated, Zosan

Sanji doesn’t know if he’s completely comfortable with consummating their marriage on an altar in front of so many people.

little steps

G rated, Luffy & Sanji

Sanji’s not sure why they are moving to a new neighbourhood.

homes

G rated, Strawhats & Sanji, Baratie & Sanji

Sanji grows up in the Baratie. The restaurant is the first place he considers home.

try living

G rated, Zoro & Sanji, Robin & Sanji

For Sanji, love is sacrifice.

boredom

G Rated, Zosan

Sanji has no idea what the hell is happening in this class.

warmth

G Rated, Zosan

Zoro glares at him but suddenly his eyes light up with playfulness. He turns to the kids and says, “I think Papa had a bad day at work today. What do we do when Papa has a bad day?”

Ryuu and Sora throw their hands up and cheer, “Tickle party!”

appreciating your design

E rated, Zosan

Sanji isn’t unhappy with his life. Quite the opposite actually. Since he could work a stove, Sanji studied hard and cooked and cooked until he perfected whatever recipe he was learning. He attended the best culinary school in all four blues, placing top of his class each semester. He trained under the most wonderful chefs in the world as well as cooked for and more than satisfied the most difficult critiques. He opened up the restaurant he’s dreamed of since he was a child and earned all three of the Michelin stars.

And his greatest achievement, he made Zeff proud.

He’s worked hard and fulfilled all of his dreams. Well, maybe not all of them.

pained affection

G rated, Zosan

Zoro doesn’t know how the animosity and rivalry between him and the cook starts. He knows they’ll never actually hurt each other but still, the thrill of going against him is always greater than any enemy they’ve fought against. Zoro has immense respect for Sanji; he’s strong and is always ready to do anything to protect the crew. But that never stops Zoro from poking at him and rilling him up. It’s his favourite way to pass the time after all.

holy cow, you're the holy trin'

E rated, Lulaw

Law is so busy enjoying his drink and watching out for Luffy that he doesn’t notice the wetness on his chest at first. But soon, the fabric of the yukata starts sticking to his skin and feeling clammy, and when Law looks down to check if he accidentally spilt his drink, he sees something much worse happening.

He’s lactating.

ONGOING FICS

nine lives

T rated, Zosan

After years of living under the abuse of Judge and his brothers, Sanji is slowly losing his sanity. When he desperately needs an escape, a huge talking cat, calling themselves The Mask Seller, offers him something that changes his life forever.

heart working overtime

E rated, Lulaw

“Did you know? If you're still a virgin by the time you're thirty, you'll get mind reading abilities.”

This is all Shachi's fault.

#materlist #one piece #zosan #acedeuce #asl brothers #asl trio #acelaw #straw hat pirates #baratie #yumi's stories

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jackiequick · 1 year

Text

Operation Baby Rescue - Fast & Furious Fic 🏁 (Part 2)

Val Toretto x Deckard Shaw

Check out the backstory to the character and couple here

Operation Baby Rescue / Fast & Furious Fic 🏁 (Part 1)

—

Val reread the note more than twice and groans, can’t believe what she just read onto the real reason why Dom kept working with the bad side of the story. She has his son. She took a breath and looked up at Santos who pointed with a smile to take a look in the back.

She nodded and busted open the door, stepping inside to see a rather older woman she hasn’t seen before hanging over Deckard’s body. “How lovely..” Val mutter and took a seat across from her, with the man in question in the smack middle of them. “Sorry, haven’t met you before..who are you?” She asked.

The older woman gave her a cheeky grin and shook her head. “Bloody idiot didn’t think of mentioning me to anyone, did he?” Said the woman sending a small glare to Deckard’s unconscious face then glance back at her, “I’m Magdalene Shaw, dear.”

“Sh-Shaw? As in his mother, Shaw.”

“Ah, so you heard of me?”

“He mentioned his mother once or twice. Nice to finally meet the face to the name.”

Mama Shaw smiled, “You’re prettier than your brother said and humorous, i like you. Too bad my idiot son, didn’t bother to tell me about you!”

Val snickered and nod, “We should make plans for a lovely brunch, just the two of us. Let’s wake up him.”

Magdalene Shaw took a syringe stabbing it into her son’s chest. Deckard gasp glaring at her, “Jesus mom, your supposed to avoid the nerves!”

“Oh shut up.” Replied his mother, putting the syringe away, “Don’t be such a baby. That’s for also not telling me about her.”

“What?”

Deckard’s upper body slowly turned to his left, his eyes widen at the sight and groaned, “Oh hell..”

“Not happy to see me, Deck?” Asked Val, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed waving at him.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“Clearly Dom didn’t tell you, I’m coming.”

“Of course he’ll ask his sister. I’m guessing you met mom.

“She’s lovely, we’re having brunch if we survive this.”

“Oh no..”

His mother smirked, “Oh yes. That’s what you get for not introducing me to her earlier!”

“We’ll discuss this later! Did Toretto hold up his end of the deal?” He asked, looking at both woman.

Magdalene held up a communication device, that looked like a smart watch to track Cipher with. “But you can’t do this on your own, it’s got to be 3 of you.” She explained.

“Fine, we got contacts.” Deckard said with a shrug.

“No, you’re taking your brother. Toretto knows where he is, it’s called the devil’s bumhole or something.”

~~~

Val tried not to laugh as she corrected her, “It’s called God’s eye. And we’ll take Owen.”

“No we’re not! He’s a lost cause.” Deckard remarked, not liking the idea.

“He’s your brother, Deck.”

“Yeah so?”

“We should take him, we need someone to help as back up.”

“I can call one of my guys back home, get the job done much easier.”

His mother added onto Val’s response and started to cry, “He’s your brother. My son, your family. And our family don’t die, bloody..how can you talk like that about Owen i can’t believe you! You gone and upset me, why can’t you just listen to us and..”

Deckard sigh looking around and said, “Oh come, mom. Ok, I’ll take him!”

Mama Shaw grinned knowing her son fell for that trick every time and wink at Val. “He’s too easy.” She said, slapping her son’s chest, “Now, how long have you two been together?”

“Oh mom!” Deckard exclaimed annoyed and slightly embarrassed at the question, taking Val’s hand, “This is why I didn’t want you to meet her.”

“How long, Deck?”

“Since 2011. It’s been a going on for a while now, we’ve all seen each other every couple times a year.” Val answering and chuckling brightly, squeezing her boyfriend’s hand.

His mother gasp, “How long were you gonna hide this from me? You’re own mother! Have i’ve not taught you anything?”

“Mom, I didn’t think i needed to tell you. I was prison for more than 2 years, for god’s sake!” Deck tried to explained and sigh, “..I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“At least kiss the sweet girl, she must’ve thought you were dead for half a day. Us women deserve more from you Deck.”

“I can handle this. You two meeting wasn’t on my agenda for this..”

~~~

Val leaned forward watching the two and smirked, “She’s right, you scared the shit of me after Dom fake shot you.”

“You’re just as worse. Come here, you.” Deck said as he rolled his eyes and cupped her cheeks pressing his lips onto hers, giving each other a taste of how much they missed each other, “I’m sorry, we couldn’t tell you.”

“It’s alright. I must’ve known Dom was planning something else involving you and the team.”

“I promise we’ll go on another vacation after this, your choice.”

“Let’s get to work then.”

——

Val packed up her guns and the carrier, waiting for the Shaw brother to stop bickering. “Boys! Seriously?” She yelled, looking at the clock.

“Sorry, love. We’re planning out who flies first.” Deck replied and kiss her cheek.

“I still can’t believe i get called back to action, to see my brother in a relationship with what used to be my enemy.” Owen said looking over and scoffed.

“Shut it.”

Within 4 minutes, they stood up and out of the drop zone. Placing their helmets, as they flew behind and beyond the plane that belong to Cipher. Owen in front opening the back of the plane as the three of them stumbled onto the track, holding onto crates closing the back door.

Removing their helmets, Val took a breath, fixing her handheld set and pushing hair out of her face. The brother talked quickly, Val instructed Owen to take the pilots while her and Deck searched. Cipher got alerts about them being on the plane right now and got pissed.

“Surprise.” Deckard said looking over his shoulder at the security camera and the next two smirked. The doors open as the 3 shot down a few agents Deckard instructed Owen to wait for his signal before following Val down the halls safety.

The two ran down the hall fighting a few guards reaching the room, that carrier the package. Owen signaled his brother that they’re in position, Deckard slide open the door as Val’s jaw dropped at the very package in front of her. A bouncing baby boy in his crib babbling, reaching his hands in the air.

“Hello chulo, hi. I’m your Tia Val.” She said calling him ‘cutie’ in Spanish as he gushed at her making grabby hands.

Without a second later she picked him, bouncing him on her hip. He curled comfortably into her chest. She nuzzled her cheek onto his head, “You’re so cute. Deck i think i want one.”

Deck chuckled as the baby boy grabbed his finger and he replied, “We’ll see about that, love. He’s a very handsome boy, seems to like us. A happy kid, for sure.”

He opened a comm link to Dom, waiting for the other line. Once he did, Deckard announced, “We got the package, Toretto. All 12 pounds of him.”

As he did, the baby smile bouncing and babbling, “Ya!..yeahhh da..dada..da.”

The two chuckled at him, in love with the kid already. Val can only imagine the sigh of relief on Dom’s face as she cradles the little guy in her arms. Deckard smiled at the two of them, cooing at the kid, imagining his lady as a mom one day.

Deckard placed the baby boy in a carrier, covering his ears with headphones as the kid just softly smiled at him. He turned up the volume of the music being Alvin and The Chipmunks. Val gave him a look, “Seriously? That song?”

“What? He like it.” Deckard replies turning back to the baby, “You good?”

The baby boy just made a satisfying sound as if to say, ‘yeah i love this song. We’re good.’ Val cracked a laugh, placing a kiss on her nephew’s forehead before nodding towards the door with her gun.

Deckard looked down with a soft look of reassurance to the boy and said, “Alright little man, this might be a little scary but its’ gonna be a lot of fun.”

—-

Once the door open, Deckard held the carrier jabbed and punched a two men as Val pointed her gun shooting down two more. The two took cover, switching off who gets the carry the boy next. Like a game of hop potato. “How’s the music? Good?” Deckard asked the kid, who was in his own little world waving a hand in the air replying to his question.

Val pinned and kicked a few men off balance and onto the glass table, even shot once in the chest, satisfying herself. Deckard scoffed dragging one across the bar on the wall, slamming him against a few glass as he shot a few others.

“Going for a ride.” He said, sliding the carrier over to her, as Val catches it with her foot like a Soccer ball.

She heard her nephew giggle which cause the girl to smile in return, “You like that, huh kiddo?” Val slide the carrier in between a few seats safely, “Back in a sec, keep watch.”

Deckard and Valentina stood back to back, holding up their gun to the soldiers who glared at them, they shot down two. Deck leaned forward, causing her back to rest against his, holding Val securely spinning around as she kicked a few steps onto the soliders. Once he dropped her onto the ground, Deckard dodged a few punches swiftly whooping a couple of asses successfully along the way, eventually throwing one across the room breaking the glass shelf in between them.

Val dodged a couple of punches and switch places using items such a bowl to slam a few heads. She crouched down in front of the carrier, “Where’s that handsome smile?” Baby Toretto smiled brightly listening to his music. “There is it!” She added, picking up the carrier blocking a couple of bullets, spinning to shoot the very who shot at her.

“How dare you shoot a baby? No respect!” Val scoffed and looked over shoulder jokingly signaling him, “You heard Deck?”

Deckard peeked his head from the other side of the wall after punching some guy. He scoffed at the man, “You were gonna shoot a baby? You sick bastard!”

He turned the carrier toward windows and stepped over to the male guard with a smug smirk slamming his head into a table multiple times until he passed out while fighting off two more.

Val noticed a huge guard charging at them and she scoff in annoyance, “Ugh! Another one of you? Aren’t you tired yet of this game?!” The man flipping her over and slammed her against the table, swinging her around like a rag doll as glass shattered around her as Val tries to fight him.

Before he can get a strong shot at her, Deckard came in swinging and slammed the man across the room yelling, “Hands off, asshole!”

He quickly pulled her up from the ground checking her face. Concern was laced in his eyes, scanning for any damage aside from the hits they already took to the head. “Are you okay? Did the bastard hurt you badly?” Deck asked.

“N-no, I’m alright I think..” Val reply noticing a few cuts on her man’s shoulders from the fight, “Are you okay?”

“Ah, I’ll live. We’ll get bandage up later.”

“Yeah, and next time you take the big guy.”

The two crack a few smiles, running over to the baby carrier to check their special package, making sure no more guards or soldiers coming in anytime soon.

—

Deckard wink at her before checking on Baby Toretto with a soft smile, “How we doing, buddy? Good?” The baby was clapping his hands with the brightest toothless grin he ever seen.

“There’s that handsome smile!” Added Deck grinning from ear to ear, before looking back at his lady, “I love the little guy.”

“Me too. He’s one of the funnest rescue I’ve ever had.” Val joked, making a silly face toward her nephew who giggles in return.

Val walked into the room that held Cipher holding the gun straight to her face, a piercing look laced with such attitude and seriousness. “You bitch.” Is all she said at the blonde in braids.

“Fair. How did you find me?” Cipher asked, noticing Deckard walking in behind her holding his gun with a glare and gentle placed down the baby carrier.

Deckard smirked as hee answered the question, “A friend gave us a tip.” He revealed Dom’s famously worn cross necklace, tossing it over to his lady, who caught it.

“Clever.” Cipher said with a smirk, “You’re also out of bullets, Deckard.”

“Like i need a gun to take care of you.”

“Also very resourceful, I’ll give you that.”

“You have a lot to answer for Cipher. What you put both of ours families though, my mother. I’mma make sure that never happens again. Not to anyone ever again!”

“You should know by now, you messed with the wrong crew. Especially when my brother’s really calling the shots around here.” Val added, “It’s simple really, stop you for the damage you caused.”

Cipher scoffed, “Only one fault in your pretty plan.”

“What’s that?” Deck asked, with a glare.

“Only one of us has a parachute.”

Within not even a matter of seconds, Cipher grabbed the raven black backpack that held a parachute inside, opening the doors flying out. Val raced after her causing her to almost hit her fist and slip out of the plane, gasping and yelling out in frustration at losing Cipher. Deckard noticed the baby carrier sliding towards the door as he jumped to grab it quickly, but almost being able to reach the buttons to shut the door.

He grunted as he noticed her almost slipping out of the door, Deckard reached towards her forgetting about closing the door for a moment and pulled her back. Once Val was near the doorframe of the bay, she grunted pushing the baby carrier away safely as both their feet hit the button to shut off the plane door, sliding down closing them in safety.

Deckard lays with his back against the floor and banged his fist against the wall, “Damn it.”

“We tried.” Val responded with a annoyed sigh, laying down next to him.

“No more racing after the enemy.”

“Or planes for a while.”

“Agreed.”

The two stayed there for a moment to catch their breath, with a slight smile but those smiles only grew once they heard a sudden giggle and sweet babbles.

Val sat up first pulling the baby carrier towards them chuckling, “What you laughing at, huh?”

“Told you this will be fun.” Deckard added with a chuckle and winked at the baby.

Baby Toretto giggled some more looking up at them with huge chocolate brown eyes that reminded Valentina so much of Dom and Elena. She remembered Elena she called the sweet baby boy Marcos as a middle name but Dom should be the one to give him a first name. She adored the name Baby Marcos Toretto but she was also interested to see what name Dom picked out for him.

The baby giggles once again, snapping her out of her thoughts. Deckard’s voice that held a smile caught her attention as well, talking to Baby Toretto with a quick wink. He stood up, lifting up the carrier with him and informing his brother to talk to the pilot to land soon. She watched Deck take Marcos out of the carrier and bounce him in his arms chuckling. It made Val wonder how Deck would be as a father one day, seeing him being so sweet and loving towards the baby.

“You alright?” He asked, reaching out his hand to help her off the floor as he carried the baby with the other.

She took it and stood up, “Huh? I’m good.”

“You seemed lost in thought for a moment there.”

“Just seeing you with him, had me thinking about you as a dad.”

Deck smiled and joked eyeing her for a moment, “You’re not pregnant, aren’t you?”

“No!” Val laughed and playfully slapped his arm, “I’ll leave the baby making to my siblings.”

“Okay good, but you will make a good mom one day.”

“And you’ll make a good dad.”

Baby Marcos Toretto had a toothless silly grin waving a hand up and down, as the headphones stayed on his head playing ‘Alvin and The Chipmunks’ on repeat. Val reached out to tickle his belly, then bopping his nose as Deckard bounced him for a moment catching his attention, fixing his headphone.

The pair knew the next few days would be interesting, since they headed off to a select safe house to take care of the boy with Owen’s help while Dom and the crew finished settling the mission for Mr. Nobody.

—-

Thank you so much for reading! What did you think it? Let’s discuss if you like. Please remember to like, comment & share! ✨

Tags: @gaminggirlsstuff @t-nd-rfoot @topgun-imagines @ohgodnotagainn @morgan108 @yetanotherwells @hanlueluver @blackheart-beauty @gcthvile @mandylove1000 @rooster-84 and etc

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hindulivesmatter · 4 months

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I am a proud hindu so i was angry about what happened to kashmiri hindus. but after reading up on it and the history of kashmir in general, one thing is really obvious: india failed kashmir (all of them not just hindus). It’s why I support their right to self-determination. I am based in America and I know several punjabis here who don’t consider themselves indian because their family/community was directly impacted by the 1984 anti sikh pogroms. ig i’m saying india has failed a lot of people (esp minorities) so if we are not from their ethnic group, we don’t get to selfishly claim them or impose our will on them. like i’m a kannadiga and i hate the imposition of hindi in my home state and while this is not even slightly comparable to the violence and trauma faced by kashmiris, punjabis and other groups, i would hate for a non-kannadiga (esp a hindi speaker) telling me how to feel and having the final say in the matter so kashmiri self determination just makes sense to me.

this just my two cents hope this didn’t sound rude because that’s not my intention.

I know you didn't mean to be rude here, but what you're saying is actually really out of touch.

I hope you're aware of what happened in Kashmir to Kashmiri pandits. Pakistan has dreamed of Kashmir since it was formed. That's why they wrongfully attacked India the first time, securing only POK which sadly was due to the UN, and weak Indian political power. Since then, they have infiltrated our country, and approximately 300,000 Kashmiri Pandits are reported to have left the region due to constant persecution from the Jammu Kashmir Liberation Front (JKLF) and other militant groups, like Hizbul-Mujahideen (HM). In 1989, radical Islamists initiated an insurgency, fueled by covert support from Pakistan.

The party at the time did its best to hide this, and stifle it as much as possible, this got an ounce of coverage and light when The Kashmir Files was released

Hindus have 5000 years of recorded history with the land, that Islamists claim has “always been Muslim land”. "Kashmir" is literally named after Rishi Kashyap, if you're aware. On 19, January 1990 mosques blared out the infamous "convert leave or die" and finished their mission of converting the entirety of Kashmir to an Islamic state. Our pandits were told to leave their wives and daughters behind if they wanted to escape alive.

They're still living like refugees in their country, and now thanks to the scrapping of sec 370, things have taken a turn for the better.

Many Muslims of Kashmir still retain their Hindu surname. It was a deliberate attempt to wipe Hindus out that Islamists achieved and now THAT'S the free Kashmir they want, this slogan isn't promising actual Kashmiris that were displaced from their homes back, this slogan is furthering the agenda to chew Kashmir off India's map - the one true dream.

A similar approach is taken by Khalistanis, they aren't asking for Lahore, you know, the capital of Maharaja Ranjeet Singh, they're demanding INDIA to give Punjab away. They are funded by Pakistan as well that's why they can't say anything about Sikh treatment in Pakistan. That's why they can't say anything about Gurudwaras converted to garbage bins. You obviously, being far away, aren't aware of what's going beneath the surface, they have vandalized various Hindu Temples.

They take the name of their Guru who sacrificed his life for India, while they stomp on the flag of India.

In theory, I guess it sounds easy to say "Well, disagreements are flaring up, so let's just split and give them their own thing". But this isn't how it works. Compromise and collaboration is how decisions are made in a democracy. This is our motherland, the last time we split was painful as fuck. The only reason India didn't fall apart after Independence is because of the formation of linguistic states.

I lived in Bangalore for the majority of my childhood, and I left 2 years before the entire language debacle began. I don't know if you know, but now Kannadigas are getting violent if anyone speaks Hindi. They demand you to speak in Kannada even if you don't know how.

You're based in America, so I'm not holding this against you, but I'm begging you, please do more research.

[Exhibit 82]

#long read #special thank you to @magic-coffee for help and sources #hinduphobia #hindulivesmatter #kashmir #hindublr #anon asks #answered

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olderthannetfic · 6 months

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You've encountered site changes over time as a fan elder, what do you make of Tumblr potentially being put out to pasture? Tumblr was my coming of age fan site, and im looking for advice to transition to the next thing with grace and less bitterness than I feel now.

Ahaha. God, you should have heard the howling about LJ. "Fandom is over!" "Never again shall we dwell in fandom's True Home!" etc.

Hell, this endless "only LJ was good" crap turns up in replies here on posts where I as OP have very clearly laid out why that's rose colored glasses nonsense and you can so make friends on tumblr, have a conversation on tumblr, etc.

I had my crabby phase about this during the transition from Yahoo Groups to LJ. A lot of the real olds had it over paper zines and the transition to the internet.

I don't know if reading these hilariously samey old posts would help. It does give perspective, I think.

As for what you should do, do what I did with Tumblr:

Look around to identify the Next Thing fandom is going to camp out on.

It may take a few guesses and some time to figure this out. You will likely not be an early adopter. Fandom was well established here by the time I joined at the end of 2010. Of course, by now, all those 2009 and before accounts are long gone, but at the time, I was a n00b joining other people's space despite having been in fandom for ages.

Don't expect to enjoy it

I didn't join tumblr because I liked it. In fact, I despised it. I kept right on despising it until a brief stint in Sherlock fandom, a fandom that was so active here at the time that I was able to finally see the good aspects of the site's structure and features.

This is the mistake a lot of people make. They give things a cursory try, don't enjoy them, and go "not for me", forgetting that the last site also had a steep learning curve that was either difficult or that they didn't notice because they were in a different phase of their life.

Bitterness and grief are, frankly, an inherent part of the process. You can try not to be a debbie downer in your public comments, but you can't just not feel those things during the awkward part of the transition. Sometimes, acting positive and cutting off excessively negative thoughts can make you feel less negative overall, but it doesn't happen immediately.

Accept that feeling cranky and old is both a you problem and a state of mind, not a property of the new site

Relatedly, the way we remember fandom platform X feeling usually has more to do with us being in college with fandom friends down the hall or having discovered Our People for the first time or some other time when we had a lot of energy and positive emotions. Often, we were in the throes of a first or new fandom love too, probably for some megafandom that other people also cared about at the same time.

When fandom is leaving some site, there's a grieving process anyway, but we're also often in a worse part of our lives for starting new things. We're busy. We're tired. We're between fandoms. We feel like we already paid our dues to build up our community. Why should we have to start again?

But let me tell you, you always need to start again eventually. I go to a weekly vidders' zoom chat, and a lot of the people in there are old as balls, including Kandy, the person who invented vidding back in the 70s. She's a lot of decades and a few cancers in, and she had to relearn how to vid on a computer after transitioning from slideshows to VCR vidding back in the day. If bad health, platform changes, and dead friends were going to stop her, she'd be long gone.

It's like sharks: you stop swimming, you die.

This isn't just about fandom, obviously. It's about avoiding a midlife crisis and, later, about avoiding feeling emotionally geriatric even when your body is falling apart.

Change gets us all, but being mentally old is a choice. The real reason I gave tumblr such a try was that I had been so resistant to getting on LJ. I was 20. Even a year later, it was fucking embarrassing to have been a crotchety old hag as a college student. I promised myself I'd soldier through the next change instead of dragging my feet about it. And it totally worked in the end! But boy did it not make the transition any less unpleasant emotionally!

Find your joy

As is obvious from the above, the vast majority of the problem is just emotions. Fandom has been on a million broken sites with shitty features. We go where the people are, regardless of whether it has the technological aspects we liked at the last place. The actual shape of that platform is largely irrelevant.

What does matter is whether we as an individual fan are still excited and happy about something. I was between fandoms recently and went looking around for BL series I hadn't watched yet. People kept suggesting things set in the present day with too-cheesy production values and too many banal schoolboys in modern day settings without even anything spicy going on. I realized that the BL/danmei scene wasn't really cutting it for me and I should go for production values and genre and non-canon ships. You probably scrolled annoyedly past the picspams that resulted.

(Of course, hilariously, someone has now shown me the trailer of Red Peafowl, so someone may be making BL that feels like it's for me after all. Look at all that badwrong and very dark color grading.)

When you're in a good place emotionally, it's a hell of a lot easier to weather any change, and when you have a new fandom, it's a lot easier to connect with other fans.

A lot of people wait around for lightning to strike twice. They found their first fandom by accident, and they expect it to happen seamlessly again. For me, it's far more productive to brute force it: collect up a big list of what's popular or what's new and go through it till you find things you might like, then try them all.

And part of this, obviously, is not waiting for other fans to make the party happen. The more you need to join something other people are already doing, the less choice you'll have in fandoms or in platforms. If you aren't picky and just go where the tropey longfic is, that can work, but even then, favorite authors disappear or go to fandoms you hate and former megafandoms dry up. If you're the one bringing the party, it's a lot easier to find a new fandom or platform or community to have fun in.

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inktheduck · 1 year

Text

Ah don’t mind me, just another lil rant about the silly lil podcast show…

[an excerpt from a message I sent over discord]

You know I’ve been thinking. The Magnus Archives. The “fears” and “entities”.

I’m unsure why or how these entities [exist] but my theory is that they are manifested over time/intensity. With enough people [feeling] afraid, this sorta,,, energy manifests into its own being. Almost like a god of our own creation.

[A cage we build ourselves in?]

However that being said, why only fears?

[Why are only the fears being manifested into dangerous forces?]

"Newton’s third law for every action (force) in nature there is an equal and opposite reaction."

If there is fear made manifest then there should also be hope manifested. A way to counteract the negative with the warmth of positive. Like I get it, this is a horror podcast taking place in London. This is the least optimistic setting ever.

But am I really stupid for holding out hope? Pointing out a way to counteract these destructive forces?

For example, the opposite to Distortion is Clarity. The opposite to Lonely is Community. Even if there aren’t entities of positivity, we can make it up inside ourselves, methinks.

The fears seem relentless. Extremely unforgiving. And I understand that the entities are indifferent at best. But I just hrnrmejdmm.

I feel silly being so stubborn against [the idea that] disparity is the only thing available.

[May I have some reassurance?]

Additional thoughts...

If anti-entities exists, then they go unnoticed. Love is quiet and undemanding. It goes unnoticed until it is gone. Until we notice something is wrong, that is when fear comes in. Fear is a very very powerful thing. It is also very very hard to overcome. Especially in these instances where people are at the mercy of merciless beings. It's heartbreaking to realize there can be no way out of a terrible situation. You just gotta,, accept it all. Accept that perhaps you're wrong, perhaps you're going to die, perhaps the things you face in life can (and will) change you forever. Tragedy is inevitable but what you do with it next is what matters. Methinks.

Humanity is filled with fear, love, but most importantly resilience.

These three things are built into the core of all living beings. To focus only on what is terrible is an insult to all the good that goes around.

(This deffo can go the other way around too. I mean, when you got a monster chasing you, you can't just turn around and go,

"Awh man how abwout we all wuv eachothwer? QwQ."

You're gonna fricken die if you do that...most likely.....Just,,, don't risk it.)

So yeah, perhaps I am going to die. But I'm going to go out of this world the same way I came in: Kicking and screaming.

The fears are relentless. The fears are resilient. And guess what? So are we. After all, the entities did (theoretically?) come from us. It's only natural the supernatural is an exaggerated reflection of reality.

Sometimes you gotta fight back with the power of friendship...and blunt force damage. And guns. Or arson...

I might be getting off track. Haha.

Points brought up and tied together...

"I’m unsure why or how these entities [exist] but my theory is that they are manifested over time/intensity."

"Love is quiet and undemanding."

"Fear is a very very powerful thing."

People are naturally going to pay attention to the negative. Tis a survival response! The reason these entities may be prevalent is because humanity as a whole focuses on the negative.

The Magnus Institute is where people go to have their negative (and straight up weird experiences) to be collected. So if the victims of the entities are coming to the institute, then the entities and avatars themselves are bound to come to the institute too! It's like Mentos in a coke bottle of bad vibes. It's gonna explode. (Omg if this turns out to be a literal explosion happening in the archive I am going to flip my lid.) ((Context the last episode I’ve listened to is uhhhh episode 32???)) The bad things recorded seem to be the only things happening because that is where our attention is focused on. There isn't much reason to collect information from people who have had good times and miracles happening. (From a listener standpoint, not exactly the most entertaining or spooky thing to listen to. If I want to hear that then I'd go to church or talk to Facebook moms.) OKOK THE POINT!!!

The reason why "anti-entities" may or may not exist is either because:

The cumulative love of humanity isn't enough to manifest as strong as an entity derived from fear.

The (potential/theoretical) entities here to help people go unnoticed due to not being focused on. It doesn't go out of its way recruiting people to do their bidding because that's just not how they function. Edit: I have part 2 of my think thoughts [HERE]. I wanted to let you know in case people are wanting to know more about my good ol thinky inky thoughts.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma podcast #ink in the archives #the magnus institute #tma spoilers #jonathan sims #tma theory

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mosneakers · 6 months

Text

Selene: It's not like in the movies. I couldn't run. I couldn't scream. We were blindsided and overpowered by that beast, and having blonde hair and a cleavage-bearing top didn't protect me.

Selene: When Lou lost consciousness, Greg continued to attack me. I knew in my mind that it was entirely possible that Lou was dead, but maybe there was a chance he survived. I was terrified that if I stopped fighting, he'd turn his attention back to Lou and finish the job.

Brick: Listen, Selene... That wolf... [Downs drink in one swig] ain't no normal wolf. I don't know if you knew this about me, but I'm a bit of an athlete- Selene: ... [Quickly glances at biceps] ...I surmised as much.

Brick: Well it's true. And even I didn't stand a chance against him -the first time anyway-, but you... damn shorty, let's be real, you were ready to die for that Lou kid, sounds like you really loved him.

Selene pauses, and takes a trembling breath.

Selene: I never felt anything like the love I felt for him. After the attack, the next thing I remember, I was waking up to his face in a local hospital. I had bandages all over my body, and we were both foaming at the mouth. Brick: Werebies.

Selene: Yep. It was miserable. But recovery was tolerable with Lou by my side. It was a shock to our systems when the doctors of Moonwood Mill explained to us what was happening to our bodies. They explained that usually with enough rest, patients can "sweat it out" and let the illness run its course. But, I guess there's rare circumstances where patients experience a "transformation," and that there were staff and protocols there to help us through that, if that time came.

Selene: They reassured us that we shouldn't worry. But the claw marks on the walls from patients before, and the shackles hidden under the beds were clear-cut signs that pointed to the contrary.

Selene: Personally, I wasn't willing to wait around and accept such a terrifying fate. With the little bit of energy I was able to conserve, I started combing through journals and books from the library; I came across an entry that claimed to cure werebies. I had hope that we could beat it.

Selene: But Lou saw things differently. He saw my efforts as a waste of time, and had no trouble letting me know. He thought he could ride the werebies out; said he had an uncle get it once and made it out just fine.

Selene: But we were running out of time, and I watched the Lou I love slowly change right in front of my eyes. We were both getting more and more irritable and delirious. Communication was getting difficult.

Selene: I'll never forget our last day together. His mom and sister came to say their "goodbyes", essentially. They weren't sure if their little boy would ever be the same again. And they were right.

Selene: We got into a huge fight. Right there in front of his family. Things were said that were not meant, but could never be taken back. He yelled at me and basically told me he didn't want me anymore. Looking back now, I think he was trying to protect me from himself, but the scars he left are far more impactful than anything Greg could ever leave.

Brick: Bro, what? Nah. I've sparred with Lou before and he doesn't even come close to- Oh shit! You mean like, emotionally, huh? Like Greg messed you up physically for life, but Lou... he broke your heart. Am I getting warm, or?

Selene:... No, yeah. You nailed it.

#ts4 #ts4 story #ts4 gameplay #werewolves gameplay #Red Wolf Fury #Brick Darling #RWFseason2 #Selene Lópes #Lou Howl #Greg #Blood #violence #GIF

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milk-ly · 9 months

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So fellas, it seems as though Kazui likely won’t make it back up to the innocent pool this trial💀

This is definitely one of the biggest situations the community has had with voting, and there’s apparently already been a few over the years.

So I want to talk about it, but with speculation in regards to in universe Milgram lore and themes!

First off, I’m not sure what the creators can do at this point. Because Kazui’s votes have long since dipped into the unforgiven pool, ending the voting early like they did with Shidou’s in trial 1 likely won’t accomplish much. The damage has already been done.

It’s not like they can remove the faulty votes like they did with Fuuta’s Trial 1 botting incident either. They can’t exactly hunt hundreds of people all down and remove their votes. So, I don’t think there’s much they can do.

My best guess is that they’re going to try to make it work in the story as much as they can.

Not sure how it’s gonna work, but they kinda did it with T1 Mikoto, no? They had jackalope bring up the fact that he caused quite a stir, referring to the tiktok incident.

A friend brought something to my attention a while back when I told them what was happening.

Obviously what’s happening sucks and is disingenuous to the project. However, this situation says a lot about people’s biases and psychology as well. It ironically fits the theme of the project.

How far are you willing to defend your favourites? How far are you willing to screw over your most detested characters?

Also this line in undercover:

“the fine line between “hate and OK”

Poetically enough, the person who started gathering people to mass vote Kazui guilty was a Kazui FAN was it not? And it was then some people who hated Kazui and what he did that jumped onto the opportunity to ensure Kazui being voted guilty.

We really are treading a fine line. Despite the wildly different opinions towards Kazui between the people voting him guilty, they’re still coming to the same verdict.

People are literally monetarily bribing people completely unrelated to vote. Like they are going REALLY far to just screw over a character, aren’t they?

The story of how the votes pan out is important too, not just the results. This is why Jackalope brought up how the votes actually played out during trial 1. It tells a story. It shows how we came to different conclusions during the voting sessions. It shows how strong our verdicts are. It shows our biases.

Here’s a quote from Jackalope’s report of the end of the first trial that’ll probably show what I mean better:

“Prisoner no. 04, Mu. Innocent […] but what’s with this one? You were completely on the road to forgive, but decided to change the judgement at the end. Seems you were bent on making a judgement until the end. Did you notice something with this one?”

While Muu still ended up with an innocent judgement in trial 1, this line shows how important the trip to getting there is no matter what the final verdict turns out to be. What happened in history can not be changed.

I wasn’t there for Muu’s t1 voting so I can’t say for sure what Jackalope was referring to, but I assume it’s talking about more people catching on to her “true self.” There were always hints of it in trial 1, you could deduce it from the messages written on the chalkboard and her phone messages. (Granted, non-Japanese speakers would have more trouble)

In our current situation, it’s the people with the most power and influence that’s affecting the votes the most. And that in of itself is saying a lot too. People are feeling so strongly about wanting their verdict to prevail that they’re using their influence to ensure it.

But on the other hand, this is definitely not what was intended when they said that we could vote however we wanted💀 still praying that the unforgiveness shrine will die out. And that people will stop trying to bot or bribe people. But I don’t think that there’s really anything we can do aside from just continuing to vote how we want.

Related to that, I want to give a wild prediction for trial 3, hear me out.

I am slightly concerned about what’s gonna happen to Kotoko in t3. Kotoko ticked off most of the community when the t2 designs were released. And because of that, I know a lot of people are already planning to vote her guilty.

Hypothetically, if she is voted guilty, she’ll be restrained right? But you know who won’t be restrained?

Orekoto.

We’ve learned that even if Mikoto is restrained, orekoto will not be.

This is a huge problem for Kotoko because if you saw their timeline conversation, they literally directly threatened to kill each other.

Here’s a snippet of the timeline conversation on Kotoko’s birthday during t2:

Mikoto: Ah, Koto-chan. It's been a while. We were isolated for some time but, how are you doing? Lots of things happened, but for now let's get along. Here, it's your birthday right? I figured that noone would come celebrate it for you, so I came to wish you a happy birthday.

Kotoko: ...What a carefree person you are. Someone as atrocious as you won't be forgiven next time too, surely. When that time comes, it'll be your last. Next time, I'll kill you.

Mikoto: Haah? Why don't you try it then, you lunatic. I'll crush anyone who tries to harm me.... I'll make sure to thoroughly beat you at your own game...!!

It’s pretty implied that the one talking in that conversation isn’t Mikoto. Mikoto has never talked like that from what we’ve seen. (I’m actually not sure if he uses Ore pronouns there, I’m assuming he did, but feel free to correct me if I’m wrong!)

So if Kotoko IS attacked by Orekoto because of the beef they have from the two fist fights they’ve had, Kotoko will not be able to defend herself.

Originally, the only caveat I had to this thought was “well, if it comes down to that, won’t Kazui be able to protect her?”

However, now that Kazui’s likely heading into a guilty verdict because of everything’s that’s been happening, he may be physically restrained in t3. Which means that if a prisoner is being attacked and Kazui wanted to help, he won’t be able to.

It’s already pretty likely that we might lose someone when t3 rolls around. Through Mahiru’s condition, Milgram has already warned us that death is indeed possible. So there are a lot of characters that are already showing slight death flags.

Also this line:

This line about Jackalope taking action if Mikoto “becomes an obstacle for all” is peculiar. I’m not sure if they would put this line in here if it wasn’t ever gonna play in somewhere.

It’s totally possible that Orekoto wouldn’t actually go for Kotoko unless she was going for him first though. So I guess we’ll see.

Sorry this isn’t written the most clearly, I just wanted to get this out there. I’m very open to hearing what others think too! I’m hoping for the best once t3 rolls around. I personally don’t want anyone to die, but I know it might be inevitable. Maybe this post will age poorly though, I don’t know. Just some thoughts!

#Milgram #kotoko yuzuriha #kazui mukuhara #mikoto kayano #Milkly ramble

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ornii · 1 year

Text

Bitterly Beautiful, Part 6

Chapter 6: In The Eye of the Storm

Wednesday sits in the center of her dorm room, reciting a dark chant as she holds the necklace her mother gave her. Surrounded by lit candles, she continues with her eyes closed. Sitting in front of her was an Ouija board with "Goody." Wrote on the front.

"In case you're wondering, I don't hold séances very often. I can barely tolerate the living. Why would I want to commune with the dead? But my mother told me Goody is the only one that can train me to control my psychic ability. The sooner I master that, the sooner I crack this case." Wednesday thought, the door opens suddenly and the gust of wind bellows, knocking the candles out, Wednesday thought the seance was successful as a shadowy figure stepped in front of the frame, but much to her disappointment, it was just Enid.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt your... Uh, do I even want to know?" She says.

"I was reaching into the black maw of death to contact a relative."

"Feels very on-brand for you. But you should be careful, (Y/n) told me summoning spirits from the after life is like super dangerous."

"(Y/n) severely underestimates me." Wednesday replies coldly.

"I guess, he was pretty serious when he said it after i made him watch Paranormal Activity with me."

"... You forced a blind man to watch a horror movie with you?" Wednesday asked as Enid clarifies.

"Well it was mostly just him holding my hand and me telling him what was happening." Enid explains, she peers over to the Ouija board and sees the name.

"You have a relative named Goody?"

"She was one of the original outcasts. Been attempting to summon her, but she seems to be ignoring my entreaties."

"Oh, you thought about using one of my scented candles? The aroma of steak tartare is to die for." Enid smiles, suddenly, a slip of paper was dashed under their door.

"..Maybe Goody answered you after all." Enid said, and Wednesday approached and read the note in magazine cut out letters. "If you want answers, come to Crackstone crypt at Midnight."

"I doubt she communicates in magazine cutouts." Wednesday said, and she and Enid now make their way to the crypt, Enid being obviously afraid of the darkness and what lies within it. Enid jumps at the howl of an animal.

"You insisted on coming along. I was fine on my own. Seems like our wannabe dееp thrоat is already here." Wednesday and Enid approach the door to the creep, with the hinting smell of death.

"Ew. What died?"

"Smells like childhood. Come on."

"Second thoughts. Why don't I just stay out here? You know, as a lookout." Enid said, which Wednesday ignores and simply heads inside, she slowly creeps around the Crypt, using her flashlight to analyze any possible hint that could have been left by the assailant, but what caught her ear was the odd whisper from behind the tomb.

"Whoever you are, show yourself. Try anything and you'll lose limbs." She says with an ice cold stare, much to her disappointment, (Y/n) and others step out, with a cake.

"Surprise! Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday to you / Happy birthday, dear Wednesday / Happy birthday to you!" They sing, which Wednesday just glares at (Y/n), as thing crawls on his shoulder.

"I should have known you two were behind this. What part of "no party under the penalty of death" do you not understand?" She says as she looks at the cake which was a grim reaper, with a pink balloon.

"I thought my cake design was pretty inspired." Xavier says.

"The pink balloon was my little touch. Why don't you make a wish?" Enid says, Wednesday as per usual ignores their friendly banter and turns to see something written in Latin, etched onto the wall.

"Wait, it's Latin. Fire will rain... when I rise."

"That's not really a wish..." Enid said.

"The first part of that was burned onto Nevermore's lawn. It can't be a coincidence."

"Wait, we're never eating that cake, are we?" Ajax asks, Wednesday slides her hand along the Etched words, and has another vision, this time she's before a gate to a manor. And beyond that gate was Goody.

"Crackstone is coming. Crackstone is coming." She repeats and disappears into the fog, Wednesday is surprised by Goody again, this time next to her.

"Goody. You're the Raven in my bloodline. Wednesday. I was told you could teach me how to control my ability."

"There is no controlling a raging river. You must learn to navigate it without drowning. Time is not on our side. To stop Crackstone, this place you must seek."

"Do you always speak in riddles?"

"Do you always seek simple answers? The path of a Raven is a solitary one. You end up pushing the people you care about away, unable to trust others, only seeing the darkness within them."

"Is that supposed to scare me?"

"...It should." goody replies, as Wednesday comes back from her Vision, knowing what could lead down the path.

The Next Morning, Wednesday is doing her homework, when things crawls along her shoulder.

"Careful, that's my cold shoulder." She says.

"Don't blame Thing. The party was me and (Y/n)'s idea. Everyone deserves to be celebrated on their birthday." Enid says approaching.

"I prefer to be vilified."

"What happened? It looked like you were having a seizure."

"I wasn't that lucky.”

"Can I at least get some kudos for pulling one over on you?"

"The subterfuge was impressive." Wednesday admits, her train of thought was crashed by thing dragging something from her bed, she sees the tag and reads it. "May your 16th be as sour and misery-filled as your desire." "Your ever-doting mother and father." They asked Thing to hide it before they left on Parents' Weekend." Enid says and she opens it, much to the horror of Enid. A taxidermy set.

"Ew! That's so gross."

"I would've preferred live squirrels." Wednesday says, she looks over to Enid; who hands her a present.

"While we're still accepting presents" she says smiling, Wednesday opens it to, a, scarf? A rag?"

"Well, do you like it?" Enid asks excited.

"What is it exactly?”

"It's a snood, silly. I made it in your signature colors. And you want to know what the best part is? I have one too! We can wear them together to class!"

"Oh, Enid, this is far too unique to wear to something like class. I suggest we wait for a more special occasion, ...like a funeral." Wednesday said, they continue through their day. (Y/n) was investigating the burning, kneeling down and touching the burned and seared grass.

"Found anything yet?" Wednesday asks behind him, he stands up as she walks up next to him to also investigate the grass.

"I did, more or less, flames are natural no magic or supernatural occurrences. But..."

"But?"

"The ground, where it burned reeked of gasoline. Meaning they had to have set the gasoline down for a while and let it seep into the ground and then burn it. It was planned, premeditation at best... but no Normie could get into Nevermore."

"So You're suspecting one of us?" Wednesday asks.

"No, well i can't rule the possibility out, you've made a few enemies but not enough to kill you. Also i "found" this." He says and hands her a slightly rectangular box, Wednesday cautiously takes the box. She reads the tag, "From (Y/n), Hearts to Wednesday, Broken hearts with many "XO" and "Hugs and Kisses" in pink, which didn't fit well with the pink wrapping paper which read "To my Future Wife."

".. Are you sure this is for me?" Wednesday said.

"Of course! I got Enid to do the wrapping and message. " (Y/n) to Wednesday." Black wrapping paper, Something basic." He says, Wednesday says nothing and unwraps it, and sees a black box. She opens it to a pair of gothic black leather boots.

"Hm, black leather; very utility like." She says, he takes one and opens his palm, he slams it on his palm, and from the Toe roll, a blade ejects from it. Surprising Wednesday.

"Hidden blade, much more convenient then a blade on your wrist like some assassin." He smiles, and Wednesday takes it.

"I can see you put much thought into this gift... Thank you." She says, and he gently nudged her.

"See? You can be nice."

"Me not acting upon the want to strangle you every day Is me being nice." She says, he just laughs and turns back to the burned ground. "Will you be seeing Eugene?" (Y/n) asks.

"Yes, i suppose it's the least I can do."

"Well, after that, since you obviously hate birthdays with people, why don't you and me celebrate? Alone together, maybe some cemetery with black roses, a picnic, maybe read some Edgar Allen Poe, or dig up graves, whatever you're feeling." He says, Wednesday never heard such a better night to spend. It almost made her smirk, but her lip quivers just slightly.

"While that seems Dreadfully Pleasant, i believe you and I know there are more pressing matters at hand then some picnic date. There's a murderer around and I plan on finding out who." She says. (y/n) looks obviously upset, but puts it to the side.

"You're right, sorry about that." He says, he senses Wednesday leave; and he just lets out a sigh of sadness.

"I haven't always been against birthdays. Each one reminds me I'm a year closer to death's cold embrace. What's not to like about that? Besides, my parents always made sure my birthdays were memorable." Wednesday said, remembering a her 10th birthday, where with a piñata, she knocked it open to live spider crawling out, absolutely terrifying the other children.

Wednesday is inside the Hospital checking on Eugene.

"But now parties and presents and games, it... it all feels so trivial. Goody warned me I was destined to be alone, and that I would be sorry for it." she says, someone clears their throat behind her and she turns and rose up to see Dr Kinbott, her therapist.

"Dr. Kinbott." Wednesday said, and she smiles, holding a bouquet of pale roses.

"I haven't seen you since our session with your family, which was... certainly one I won't forget. How are things with them?"

"My mother and I spent some quality time together. Got our hands dirty."

"Gardening?"

"Grave-digging."

"Hmm."

"And I managed to keep my father out of prison. What brings you here?"

"Eugene's moms, I'm working with them. Trauma like this leaves emotional scars on the whole family. They had to head home for a few days, so I promised I'd check in on him."

"I'll leave you to it." Wednesday prepares to leave, but Kinbott asks.

"Who's Goody?" she asks, Wednesday, halting in her tracks turns to face her, "She's a very distant cousin. Very distant."

"Sounds like she doesn't see you for who you really are."

"She sees more than you know. I want to assure you I remain as cold and heartless as the first day we met."

"I doubt a cold, heartless person would be sitting by her friend's bedside feeling guilt for his condition."

"I didn't ask for a free session."

"Consider it my birthday gift." Kinbott replies before Wednesday left. She decided to return to the cafe to sit and read a book on pilgrims, trying to find any information on Crackstone. Her reading was interrupted by a cup being gingerly placed on the table, which read "Happy Birthday" in the foam. Tyler sat across from her:

"I know you're usually a quad kind of girl, but I've been working on that all week."

"Birthday, yes. Happy, never. Is there anyone Thing didn't tell?"

"Well, who do you think delivered the cake? Yeah, I went with the 98% dark chocolate ganache knowing your... preferred color palette. Oh, is that, uh... that Enid's gift?" Tyler asks, seeing the Snood next to Wednesday.

"It's perfect if you're fleeing a war-torn country on foot."

"Come on. Don't you like a day that's all about you?"

"Every day is all about me. This one just comes with cake and a bad song."

"So, if I asked you out to a non-birthday, song-free dinner... would that be something you're interested in?" Tyler says smiling, and Wednesday looks at him, a hint of disconnect in her eyes.

"I have a tight deadline. Emphasis on dead."

"Term paper?" Tyler said.

"It's about how whitewashing the sins of our past will come back to kill us all."

"Oh..." he replies, Wednesday slides him a drawing of a gate.

"Have you seen that before? Uh... What's that supposed to be?"

"Never mind."

"Okay, did... did I do something? I just feel like you've kind of been ghosting me. Am I wrong?" he asks, Wednesday never had a response to it, just silence.

"Guess I got my answer." Tyler replies, he stands up to keep working when his father enters.

"That threat burned onto the lawn at school, it's also etched on the wall inside Crackstone's crypt." Wednesday said to him.

"Don't tell me you've been digging up more bodies."

"There's a connection there. I know it."

"I'll put out an APB on the dead pilgrim."

"I figured since you no longer have an old vendetta to obsess over, you're free to solve some real crime."

"Your father and I buried the hatchet. Maybe you should do the same."

"I don't bury hatchets. I sharpen them."

Xavier was within his studio, painting. Wednesday enters.

"I need your help. Don't gloat." She says, Wednesday hands him the photo as well.

"What, do you want some drawing lessons? Your line work's a little shaky. I saw that in a vision."

"Do you recognize it?" She asks, Xavier shows Wednesday a much more well done drawing, amazing.

"When did you draw this?"

"Couple days ago. I started having those dreams again, like before, it was bad one, (Y/n) helped me talk it through."

"Was the monster in them?"

"No, but I could feel it in the shadows. You know, kind of lurking in my mind."

"You know where this is? Yeah. It's the old Gates mansion. I pass it when I go running. Why?" He asks, before an answer could be given, a covered painting drops down, which was of Wednesday during her cello session. Beautifully drawn in black. Wednesday just looks at it, the beauty of it.

"Okay. Listen... After the dance, I just wanted to forget about you, but I couldn't. So I started painting and that's what came out. I can hear you up there playing." Xavier raises his hand to it, and the painting begins moving, playing "Cello Concerto in E minor" by Elgar.

"I can tell how you get lost in the music. I feel like it's the only time I get to see the real you." Xavier said, and Wednesday for a moment was truly mesmerized by it all.

(Y/n) sits down in Weems office, who is less than enthusiastic to see him there.

"Now, Mister Healy. As my job as Headmaster, I must ensure the safety of all Nevermore students, you included within that, especially due to your.. circumstances." She begins.

"Im Blind, Not Handicapped, I can take care of myself, I'm not weak willed."

"Your will seems to deteriorate when it comes to Miss Addams." weems responds coldly, (Y/n)'a attitude softens up a bit. Weems sighs and leans in a bit.

"I understand your.. Feelings towards her, Remember i was your age at a time. I knew how hormones and emotions can drive us to do, foolish things. But I'm telling you, sometimes it's best to stay away from someone. As the term goes "Let sleeping dogs lie." Mister Healy, for you own good." Weems says, and (Y/n) scoffed.

"The last time I checked my mom wasn't a shape shifter, you may be the principal but you cannot control who i can or cannot see. I'll keep seeing Miss Addams as much as i want."

"You mean as much as She wants. You mean, she can just as easily toss you to the wayside as quickly as you entered her existence.” Weems replies, but she shrugs.

"I suppose puppy love cannot he avoided.

"I am not in love with her!" (Y/n) retorts, getting annoyed.

"Your emotional outburst says otherwise. Let me tell something, why I brought you to this. The Mayor was hit in a hit and run an hour ago, and Miss Addams was in the back of his vehicle when the incident happened. She's fine, someone getting hit by a car? Was probably on her Bucket list. Wednesday is a Black cat, dragging misery and despair at her wake. Just try not to get caught up in it." Weems says, "You're dismissed.", (Y/n) was actually at a loss of words, he stood up and left. He steps out of her office and turns to the window and can just barely sense via the reflecting sound waves, the window which stood before Wednesday and Enids dorm.

"(Y/n)" a voice says which scares him, he turns around to Wednesday.

"Jumpy?" She asks, he tries to laugh it off.

"Something like that Heh.. so, what have you been up to?" He asks.

"Scratching off my bucket list." She said, there was an awkward silence until Wednesday said something, off.

"Your offer, I've.. reconsidered it." She says a bit reluctantly and (Y/n) smiles.

"Great, so, lovely cemetery? 8? He asks. Wednesday keeps her stare at his smile, almost as if she's transfixed on it. "But, you can't go off of school grounds, can you?" He adds in, a bit disappointed.

"I have that covered." She says. After Wednesday was brought back, she decided to reconsider Tyler's plans as well, and Enids. She enters her dorm room and immediately begins.

"I've been thinking about my less-than-enthusiastic response to your surprise soirée. And I must admit, I regret not showing my gratitude towards you more appropriately."

"You really mean it?"

"Take the win, Enid. If only there were a way for us to get off campus and have a little birthday redo. Just two best friends. Too bad the school is on lockdown. Would you look at that full moon..."

"Oh, how about I say I'm about to wolf out and get a pass to the lupin cages? And say you volunteered to lock me in!"

"My deviousness has finally rubbed off on you. Good."

"Oh, we should wear our snoods!"

"Oh, I... I believe I left mine at fencing."

"Actually, you left yours at the Weathervane. Luckily, Bianca brought it back." Enid hands Wednesday her Snood, much to the disgust of Wednesday.

"Like a monkey's paw." She says.

Night Falls and (Y/n) sneaks out of his room and outside Nevermore. Taking a few cautious steps, he stops abruptly, as he senses something next to him. He turns left to a red car.

"Can I.. help you?" He says, and Tyler awkwardly laughs.

"Sorry I was, waiting for Wednesday."

"... Why?"

"Let's go." Tyler and (Y/n) jump as Wednesday appears in the passenger.

"Uh... Uh... Hi. Nice to see you too." He says, Enid then arrives, getting in the car.

"Wait, he's our Uber driver?"

"Uber driver? I thought we were going on a date."

"Date?" (Y/n) Said, obviously shocked.

"I thought this was a girls' night out." Enid says to Wednesday who stares forward.

"There's been a change of plans."

"What's up with the weird matching hoodie scarf things?"

"Don't ask. Just drive. Get in." Wednesday says to (Y/n), as he soon begins to realize he's been duped, but if Enid is going he is too. He gets in the back seat with Enid, absolutely fuming. They drive to the Gates Manor, and Stand before the gate.

"Seriously, you wanna go in there? This place is creepy AF." Enid says, obviously not up for this

"I know." Wednesday said.

"So you lied to me about the date..." (Y/n)'s voice wasn't the suave heroic or the gentle sweetheart, it was angry, betrayed, sad.

"I didn't want to celebrate my birthday by going to dinner or a surprise party. I want to do this."

"Then you shoulda just said so. You didn't have to trick us." Tyler says, and Wednesday turns to him.

"If you want to go, you can. I'm going to go check out the garage." She unlocks the gate and enters, Enid follows and (Y/n) does, silently. They reach the front of the old manor and left to the garage doors which don't open.

"Let me try." Tyler says, he attempts were futile as well, (Y/n) walks up. "Move." He says, Tyler steps back and (Y/n) grips the handle of the door and yanks, somehow with absolutely monstrous strength he tears the garage door off its hinges and drops it on the ground with a loud boom. He turns to Wednesday.

"Let's get this over with." He said and they entered the building. It was dim with blood red lights inside, but what was most shocking, was a blue Cadillac inside.

"This hit the mayor." Wednesday said.

"Okay. This just took a dark turn. We need to call Tyler's dad right freaking now." Enid says, growing in worry.

"Why? So he can take me back to Nevermore and get me expelled? It's not gonna happen." Wednesday continues forward and they reluctantly follow.

"This is the night I'm gonna die." Tyler says sadly,

Enid was whimpering quietly, (Y/n) felt her grasp his arm tingly and he keeps her close. They enter the living room and to the main part of the home, before a fire place in as a painting.

"Here they are. The Gates family. They scrub up well for psychopaths. There's Garrett, his outcast-hating father, Ansel, and you must be Laurel. They're all long gone. So the question is, why did Goody lead me here?"

"Seen enough?" Tyler asked, and Wednesday continues to look, noticing that two engravings in slight pillars on the wall don't seem the same, she presses against one and it moves, the sound of interlocking mechanisms echo in the house and the painting comes don't into a latch, revealing a mural to Crackstone.

"Who doesn't have a spooky built-in altar in their family library?" Tyler said looking at it with the flashlight.

"Ours is in the living room. More seating for year-long Dia de los Muertos." Wednesday says, Enid whimpers harder and squeezes (Y/n) like a stuffed teddy bear, Wednesday turns around and sees them, a hint of, anger washes over her and she turns back to investigate and notes burned candles, and the warmth from their put out stems.

"They're still warm. (Y/n), Tyler, you two check the rest of the ground floor. Enid and I will search upstairs."

"We will?" enid says looking at Wednesday, she desperately looks at (Y/n).

"It'll be fine, just do what she says so we can leave, if you get scared I'll be Downstairs for you." He says, she hugs him tightly and lets go. Enid and Wednesday head upstairs and (Y/n) walks off.

"Uh.. don't you want a flashlight?" Tyler asks, "What for?" He asks, "You know so you can see beeee.. tter..." Tyler said as his voice began to drone on as he realizes his mistakes.

"No... I don't think I'll need a flashlight”, he snaps back and heads to the Kitchen. Upstairs, Wednesday and Enid reach a splitting hallway.

"All right, you go left, I go right." Wednesday said.

"You seriously want to split up? In here? That is literally how every best friend dies in a horror movie."

"The faster we search, the sooner you can leave." Wednesday said, before Enid walked off.

"Why am I even here? I know what my mom would say. "Enid, you're a doormat." "You're too needy." "Show some teeth. Nobody likes a desperate little furball." Shut up, Mom. Get out of my head!" Enid yells, downstairs under her, (Y/n) is looking though the cabinets. Empty, he turns on the water and sees it runs.

"Hm..." he says, he kneels down past the sink and opens it to reveal basic boxes of things but a matchbox. He picks it up and sniffs it. "red phosphorus and antimony sulfide.." he said. Feels.. burned, someone used it.. Wednesday was right someone was down here.. Shit. Tyler cmere.." he said and there's silence.. "Tyler? Tyler!" He yells and hears growling, something dripping on the floor. He enters the living room and tries to sense the origin of the sound and looks, horrified.

"Oh... Shit."

Upstairs Wednesday and Enid begin to head downstairs before the shadow of the monster was downstairs.

"Enid! Wednesday! Run!" (Y/n) yells, they bolt back up as the monster comes upstairs.

"The dumbwaiter. Go!" Wednesday and Enid hide inside and shut it tight. It was silence before it scratched the metal plate, scaring both girls.

"Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God!" Enid looks terrified, the monster slowly creeps closer to the dumbwaiter, before (Y/n) comes and leaps on his back, using his cane to strangle it.

"GO RUN! GET ENID OUT OF HERE!" He yells, the beast screams and tries to grab him, he backs (Y/n) into a wall, slamming him and forcing the dumb waiters rope to snap. and drop the girls down the chute, they crash into the badement and they hear fighting. (Y/n) ducks and rolls from the beast, he grabs dust with his hand and clenches it.

"Go dtuga Belenus Tóirse d'anam!" He yells, he blows the dust which somehow turn into flames!

"May Belenus Tourch your soul!"

The flames hit the beast and makes it spiral out of control. Enid and Wednesday rush around. They reach an exit and Wednesday actually looks around, and sees it's hard fill of severed limbs.

"What are you doing?!" Enid yells.

"These are the body parts from the monster's victims." Wednesday said, they hear something being slammed hard against the wall, monster crawls down the stairs and Wednesday luckily escapes out a window with Enid who storms off.

"You okay?"

"Since when do you care?" She says and walks back.

"Where are you going?" Wednesday said.

"(Y/n)! He's still in there." They step back to the front and see a trail of blood, they follow it to see (Y/n) leaning against a tree, a deep wound in his side. Tyler Is there with a small burn on his arm. Wednesday quickly rushes to his side.

"You're hurt." She says and for a moment, a look of guilt washes over (Y/n) who's being helped by Tyler up. A rag was offered, suddenly by Xavier who, conveniently was there.

"Where'd you come from?"

"Here. Take this." he says and pushes the warm rag into (Y/n)'a back who has muffled yells of pain. Enid looks like she's about to cry. And Wednesday realizes that this is all her fault, blue and red lights flash in the distance. The police arrive, seemingly from an anonymous tip. But when they enter the garage or basement, it's all gone. Everything is, like it never even existed.

...

"You directly violated my explicit order and left campus during a lockdown. Not to mention putting your peers and yourself in danger." Weems stands before Wednesday, who can only watch as Weems fumes. (Y/n), Tyler and Enid almost murdered; breaking and entering. All of this from Wednesday herself.

"Which is grounds for expulsion. I know. And you have every right to exercise that option. I do believe it would be a grave error on your part."

"I think contrition might be in order right now, Miss Addams. Not hubris."

"I'll never apologize for trying to uncover a truth." Wednesday shows a competed photo, of a pilgrim and woman seemingly facing off.

"What is this?" Weems asks.

"It's a warning from Rowan. Is this why he tried to kill you?"

"His mother drew it before she died. Said I was destined to destroy the school. But I think I'm meant to save it. Now you know what's at stake. Everything you vowed to protect, no less. I think I deserve another chance...Please." Wednesday asks, and as angry as weems is, this seems. Truthful.

"One more infraction... One more step out of line and you will be expelled. No ifs, no buts."

"(Y/n), Enid and Xavier are spared as well—"

"And no more negotiation! Good night." Weems leaves, and Wednesday returns back to her dorm, (Y/n) winces in pain as Enid sighs.

"Sorry! Sorry!" She says and cleans the claw mark on his back.

"It's fine, I'm okay.. I just need some sleep." He says laughing a bit, trying to convince Enid he's okay, but the pain his killing him. Wednesday walks over, arms folded.

"Are you alight?" Wednesday asked, and (Y/n) just shook his head.

"Dont act like you care." He responds coldly.

"You're being dramatic—"

"Just, Shut up!" He yells; he stands up, limping a bit, Enid tries to help him but he shakes his head. He walks over to Enid, boiling with rage.

"First, you lie about wanting to go on a date with me, you then drag me and Enid to some haunted murder house to fuel your own investigation! I told you our deal and you broke it! You could have gotten Enid killed!"

"Deal?" Enid asks, and (Y/n) scoffs.

"Yeah, the deal was that as long as she never put you in this investigation I'd help her, but you broke it! You dragged us to that place with that monster! Something could have happened to Enid! To you.. I wouldn't forgive myself if you got hurt, but you wouldn't say the same for me."

"(Y/n)—" Wednesday began but he cuts her off again.

"No! You don't give a shit about anyone but yourself! You'll lie, manipulate and use anyone to get what you want. All the time we spent together, the times you helped me, did you actually care about me or was that just to manipulate me into helping you?" He said, Wednesday, could only be silent, he scoffs again and limps to the door.

"Guess I got my answer, glad to know how you really feel about me now... now, I refuse to be some pawn in your game." He leaves; slamming the door as Wednesday watches, Enid gets up and begins to pack.

"Where are you going?"

"Yoko's room. Thornhill said I could crash there for a few nights."

"There's no need. I spoke with Weems. You, (Y/n) and Xavier won't be punished."

"Am I supposed to thank you?"

"I already apologized. It's over."

"Over? Tonight was the icing on the birthday cake you couldn't even be bothered to cut. You'll use anyone to get what you want, even if it means putting them in danger. We could have died tonight because of your stupid obsession!"

"But we didn't. And now I'm one step closer to solving this case. That is what is important."

"I've tried really, really, really hard to be your friend. Always put myself out there. Thought of your feelings. Told people, "I know she gives off serial killer vibes, but she's just shy."

"I never asked you to do that—"

"You didn't have to because that's what friends do! They don't have to be asked. The fact that you don't know that says everything. You want to be alone, Wednesday? Be alone!" Enid, rightfully angry leaves with a bag. Wednesday is alone, Goody accurately predicting what happened. Wednesday sits against the window, contemplating wether what she did was truly right.

"Goody warned I was destined to be push everyone away, to be alone. Maybe it's inevitable. But for the first time in my life, it doesn't feel good. There's also something else. A gnawing feeling. That death is close at hand. Watching me. But I won't be intimidated. And I will never give up. That house. That family. Crackstone. The monster. Somehow me. We all seem to be connected like a spider's web. And when Mayor Walker got too close to the truth, he was silenced. But I won't be. So whoever's watching me, know this. I will find you.

#netflix #male reader #reader insert #wedensday x you #wednesday x reader #wednesday #wednesday addams x male reader #wednesday addams x reader #enid sinclair #fluff #angst #blind character

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hellsfirekeepsyouwarm · 1 year

Text

All Hell Breaks Loose Pt. 2

Oh hello there! I'm finally done with the second part, the last few day i constantly fell asleep while rereading and editing, so there will bee errors. For sure. Happy reading! Also I have no idea where I'm going with this so bear with me.

Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood-injuries-torture, weapons, Graves being annoying. I guess spoiler for MW2, absolutely inaccurate plotline, it's impossible for Graves to be with us in this fic, but here we are 😁

Summary: Ghost gathered the whole team for a rescue mission that's the most important job he's ever done. A mission he can't fail.

Weapons. Check. Flash and frag. Check. Knives. Check. Rage. Check. Bloodthirst. Double check.

"Lieutenant!....Ghost?" Johnny's thick annoying Scottish accent seeps into his thoughts. When Simon looks at him he seeing the usual determination laced with a mouthful of concern. "What's the plan?"

Simon steals a glance at the nearby table, the blueprint of a makeshift mercenary base taunting him with it's lines, providing endless possibilities of a place to hold you hostage. If you are even behind those walls. He has no plan, at least a sane one. His plan is to march in there killing every man he's up against until he finds you.

He's a soldier damnit, he should communicate, but he has nothing to say. He can't fucking lead this mission, if he does, it'll fail miserably, and they'll all die while doing so.

Simon looks at Price, his face hiding behind the smoke of his cigar. A silent plead, the one Price never witnessed before. Not from Simon anyway.

Simon needs to give the lead away, to someone else, someone who he can rely on. He would trust Price with his own life, so yours is in perfect hands. His only goal is to reach you, and he can't do that while making sure everyone is in their place, following orders.

Price gestures for everyone to gather around him when Gaz finally steps in the room, completing 141 with all members. Except you.

Price shifts his eyes around the table, acknowledging all the eyes locked at him before starting the briefing. "This is our only lead, i don't have to emphasize how important this operation is. Approximately 67 hours have passed since the kidnapping, we get proof of life every 24 hours, that means we get a new update in 5 hours. In that time period our move is to infiltrate the building, find her, and exfil. This has to be done in complete stealth, in and out. With our last member."

Simon zones out, his mind flowing with Price's words. He can't think about anything but what horrible things you might go through at the moment. He remembers too well of his own terrors of captivity, the mere idea of the same brutality happening to you twisting his insides. He feels psychically sick, the required food and liquid that gives him energy turns upside down in his stomach.

He sees blood red, injuries, tears and dirt, body in agony, spirit broken constantly behind his lids when he closes his eyes. The faint breath when the camera was close enough to your bruised face.

Gaz is asking about Laswell, Soap is demanding action and in that moment Simon can't find comfort even in Price's confident voice.

He's gonna go insane.

In this line of work, this isn't knew. Held captive, being a prisoner of war, torture, interrogation. He's gone through all of them and more, and he's fucking frightened that it's happening to you as he stands there amongts his friends and brothers. Free, feeling the soothing heaviness of his weapon, gear strapped around his body, full with adrenalin in a healty and unharmed vessel. At this moment, you don't have any of that. And he knows how much you must hate it. He has seen you going through that while healing from that nasty chest wound months back.

That faithful bullet near your heart was everything for him. A breaking point, the end of the world, an invisible force pushing him towards you. That bullet made him sit beside your hospital bed, saying silent prayers to whatever higher power that can help you breath life back into you. That bullet made him confess his feelings, openly, withouts distractions and detours. He said you mean everything to him, and he was happy that you lived to hear him say those words. He never ever will regret anything he said, more like regretting not saying more.

He needs air. He needs to get it together before he lunges into a possible suicide mission. He leaves the room without a second look, or a word to his teammates.

Breath Simon, just fucking breath, the mantra repeating itself in his brain.

The air is fresh, but it's stained with the scent of iron. He feels the smell of blood in his nose non-stop, he's certain it's just him, just his head taunting, laughing. You couldn't simply protect her, you swore to keep her safe, and how that turned out? At this point, he can't trust his own mind, everything in his head is altered from agony and wrath.

Mind switching from shame of feeling bad for himself to the guilt of his part in this shitshow. In one moment he's gnawing himself for ever letting his guard down, letting himself to be comfortable enough to be able to be found by Graves, in the other his whole head is filled with your shallow breath in that video. He's eating his own mind up, running in circles, consuming his good parts, leaving nothing but a white skull behind. A ghost with nothing and everything to lose.

"Do you remember that day?" You scoff. It's ridiculous to have this conversation with Graves. So light, so casual. Everything feels surreal.

You aren't tied to a chair, your limbs are free to move, in fact, you could simply run for fucking freedom. But you know better, the room is already crowded with Graves's men, the hallway was full of them, to be honest you saw at least 20-30 men since the blindfold was lifted from your face. And after mentally noting your minor but painful injuries, you are certain you have no chance to just run for if, most likely that's why you aren't restrained in the first place.

"i was occupied with a bullet in my chest you know." You can't help but sound bitter.

He smiles, a smile you saw millions of times back in the day, when you considered him a partner, an important person in your life. This body is just the vessel that is familiar, the man you knew is gone for a long time now. You aren't hurt anymore, you passed that months ago, but you see on his face he's not done with whatever he harboured from your shared past.

"Yeah, sorry I forgot." Fucking piece of shit.

"So what now Graves? You are hurt 'cuz the blast did not kill you at the end, and you have to live looking like fucking Quasimodo? What are you gonna do about it, huh?"

You are fed up. Fuming. What's his point? Revenge? Maybe, he was never the vengeance kind of guy. Soldier's aren't like that. But he's not a soldier anymore, is he?

"When I stepped on your front porch, I knew I'll find someone inside. Someone who isn't Riley. Fuck, i was prepared for any other 141 member despite i deemed Riley way smarter than that. But shit, finding you snuggled up in his bed." He smiles with venom, enjoying and hating his words at the same time. "When did that happen Darling?"

"Urghhhh. Holy shit Graves, that's what you really care about?" You bury your face in your hands, not feeling the need to watch his every move. He is still cocky and arrogant. You giggle with a wince when you graze a deep cut on your jawline. "Shit, are you jealous?"

His face breaks into a grimace. He stands up from his spot, after hours of not moving from the chair in front of you, talking your ear off with threats and pointless words. He stops in front of you, so close it sends a chill down on your back. His breaths fans over your ear when bends down next to your face. "Don't worry, he seen everything that happened to you." He suddenly halts in his words, for a dramatic pause, or something else you don't know, but it's way more unnerving than anything he has done so far. "In fact, he's already here to save your ass. Let's find out how prepared he is."

No way. It does sound possible and completely impossible altogether. If Simon is here, he's here for you, bit he might not be prepared for a trap they lured him in. And he will be march through the door with Soap on his side, undoubtedly. And if they do, this asshole will have everything he wants in one place.

Graves backs away, eyeing you up and down, looking at his work proudly, eyes glinting with anticipation.What can you possibly do to help Ghost and stay alive while doing so?

"Oh I know that look. Don't think too much darling, your head will hurt. You can't do shit." You feel dizzy, head throbbing, pain raging inside your skull. You feel more and more disoriented. You lose focus for a moment, and that's enough to lose him from your sight. The next thing you know, you almost fall over with the chair, Graves's arms the only support you have, his body pressed harshly against you without shame, invading your senses with his presence. You hear his voice close, too close.

"Everything you feel now is just the start. Get yourself comfortable on this chair, memorize every tiny detail of this room, count the steps you hear outside of the door." He grabs a fistful of your hair, yanking your scalp in an attempt to get your full attention on him in between you losing and regaining consciousness. "I'll wait for your precious lieutenant to make an appearance, so I can lead him to this very same chair your pretty ass is sitting on, show him the wood drenched with your blood before I serve your head on a golden plate."

He lets you fall back in place, only your lucky landing of your legs keeping you upright on the chair. Your body is exhausted, battling with the pain and adrenaline. You are going to pass out at some point, and you are oh so fucked if you do.

"When he arrives, he'll bring your precious team, right to my front door. Every one you is going to die here. You'll be the first one."

"What do you think will happen if you kill me Philip? Hm?" He stops midway to the door, his back stiff, muscles twitching underneath the vest. The burn scars apparent on the back of his neck, probably snaking down to his torso. "Are you even capable to murder me Phil?"

He stays rooted, just standing there, waiting for you to go on. Or to be silent. His next move is depending on what you are about to say, how far you are willing to go. "I have known you for years. I worked, lived with you, i watched you take down enemies from distances that no one ever thought about doing. You trying to make me believe you couldn't do the same from a neighboring building with clear sight? Aimed at chest when you had a perfectly fine vision on my head? I bet you didn't relized i don't have a vest on, am i right? You can't feed me this bullshit Philip. I know you too much to believe it."

Maybe his men believes this tale, hell he might forced this truth on himself too, but you are no fool. And his quick steps out of the room proves you hit the nail on the head.

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#simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost imagine

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