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chimielie · 1 year

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girlfriend

summary: Iwaizumi x F!Reader. you might be his girlfriend—but she's his girl.

word count: 2.4k

cw: hurt/comfort. a lot of reader insecurity. fear/mention of emotional cheating but there is none

a/n: this actually fills @akimind's request for my 500 follower event one million years ago but the formatting is tooo hard so. here it is!!! iwaizumi + angst + college au + "that's not what i said." LOVE YOU SORRY HOPE IT HURTS AND IS ALSO ENJOYABLE. <<<<3333333

You didn't mean to fall in love with your boyfriend.

You hadn't gone into this expecting Hajime to become your boyfriend at all, actually. You liked him. Liked how easy it was to be with him. How warm he was when you let your touch linger on him and pretended it was more than a flirty friendship. You hadn't ever predicted it would become so, because Hajime was hung up on his ex-girlfriend.

They'd traveled over oceans to be together, coming to Irvine from the same prefecture in Japan. They had still been together when you met him, her head tucked beneath his chin, his arms wrapped around her waist. Your first thought was "oh, he's beautiful." Your second thought was "they look like they're made for each other." You shoved the first thought deep inside a secret crevice of your brain and stuck out your hand to introduce yourself with a bright smile.

The strain of new adulthood got to them, though, or so you assumed: you were never privy to the gory details of the breakup. They remained friendly, in the same friend group, and it just always seemed obvious to you that they would someday reconcile. It wasn't until two years after their break that you were able to start showing regular, platonic affection to Hajime without feeling like an attempted homewrecker.

It was just before graduation, having dragged him away for a late-night bite to eat so neither of you would starve to death studying for finals, when everything flipped on its head. Your plan to energize the both of you had backfired; you were yawning every other sentence and came close to laying your head on the table before Hajime put his palm down in front of your face.

"Come sit next to me," he'd said, so you maneuvered around into his side of the booth and been promptly pulled into his side. You had looked up at him, murmuring a sleepy question that was more wordless noise than actual English, and that was it. Something you didn't understand softened his gaze, and then he tilted his head to the side and brushed his lips over yours.

It was a perfect first kiss.

In the weeks following it, you had bounced violently between insisting to yourself that he hadn't meant for you to read too far into the kiss and your natural instinct to go after what your heart wanted. And the more he proved that it wasn't a one-off anomaly, that he could kiss you right out of drought into a superbloom, the more you were convinced. Iwaizumi Hajime wouldn't knowingly break your heart.

When Hajime asked you to be official, wildflower bouquet in hand, the lights of the now-empty graduation pavilion shining down on the both of you, you said yes, your whole heart and none of your brain in the matter.

As you entered your apartment hand-in-hand with him, greeting all the friends who had gathered there to celebrate the end of undergraduate school, you remembered that the key modifier in "Iwaizumi Hajime wouldn't knowingly break your heart" was knowingly. He seemed happy enough announcing the development to everyone else, and then she had walked in, carrying a bottle of wine that almost slipped from her grasp when she saw your proximity. He had dropped your hand—just for a second, but it had happened, and then picked it back up like his sentence hadn't died in his mouth at the sight of her.

He'd always gotten a little defensive when people mentioned their relationship, his features shutting down into a blank, tight expression. Though they obviously weren't as close as they had been for most of their lives, they were still both part of your friend group, and he always seemed to laugh just a little harder at her jokes, kept eye contact a little longer, got embarrassed more easily around her. You didn't want to be jealous or insecure or possessive, but it just felt more increasingly obvious that you were a rebound, a cheap, temporary dupe meant to fill in until Hajime realized and returned to the love of his life.

It was hard to be angry at him, though, because you knew with every fiber of your bleeding heart that he wouldn't do this to you on purpose. You knew he thought he cared for you, that he thought he had moved on. He did a good job almost every day coming very close to persuading you of it, enough to keep you from breaking up with him and leaving him behind, but never quite erasing your insecurities for more than a few weeks at a time.

One of the first mornings you woke up in his bed, well rested and sore in all the right places, he was missing. You got up, mourning the softness of his sheets and the scent of him on the pillowcases, and slipped into one of his shirts before leaving his room to explore.

He was cooking, shirtless in the kitchen, and if that wasn't one of the yummiest things you had seen in your life.

"Good morning," you said, leaning against his counter.

"Very," he returned, flipping an egg in the pan. "Looking like that. I think—I mean, it seems like that shirt always gets chosen to be the boyfriend shirt." He had narrowly avoided saying her name, but you had heard it threatening to tumble out of his mouth. You bit back a response, but your smile still dropped, and he spent the next hour making allusive, sorry overtures without either of you actually acknowledging the slip.

You never wore that shirt again. He gave you another one, you accepted it, and life moved on.

Except you had somehow become mired in the past with a relationship that was long over, and without university or a job to distract you—you were starting at the end of September, which felt aeons away—it was eating you alive, especially as Hajime left for a preliminary return trip to Japan.

"Did you hear how Mattsun and Makki greeted him when he landed?" You sit in the car on the way to the airport, packed in with Hajime's ex, successfully hyping yourself up to see him again until she addressed the group.

"Oh, yeah," you laugh. "So funny." You haven't had a conversation with Hajime that had more depth than "how are u? miss u" for the trip's duration. She's your friend, too, though you've never been close, but there's something unbearable about admitting it to her now, when you're so unsure of your relationship's current status. It has to mean something that he was keeping her updated and active in his life, didn't it?

You find solace in knowing that you don't blame her at all. If you could find an ounce of resentment for her in your heart, you would probably have left Hajime by now—isn't that the mark of a truly evil plot-pushing girlfriend?

You cry when you see him again.

"Happy tears," you assure him, and hide your face in his shoulder.

Later, alone in his apartment, you bite your lip when Hajime asks if you want to sleep over.

"Okay, babe, I don't want to pressure you," he says, and you can feel yourself tensing up as he speaks. "But I feel like you've been—off all day. Is everything okay?"

You blanch and focus on the cowlick on the right side of his head, the one that's endeared him so much to you, so you don't have to look him in the eyes. Too much is bubbling up in your throat, your brain thrown into overdrive, and he's staring at you with so much worry in his eyes it's just not right to leave him hanging:

"No."

Hajime makes a noise you don't understand, low in his throat. "Is it because I didn't call enough while I was gone? Because I can explain that, I promise."

"No," you rush to explain. "I don't—it wasn't you, exactly. I've just—ever since we started dating—I think you still love her."

You're picking at your nails, a bad habit you've had since you were small, and he takes your hands in his, smooths his thumbs over the torn cuticles.

"I don't," he says, finally, neutrally, though his face hasn't formed into the cold mask you're used to seeing when she's brought up. "Ever since we started dating?"

"Before," you admit. "I always thought you would get back together. You just seemed so made for each other."

"But we weren't," a little pucker between his eyebrows forms. "So—what did you think when we started dating?"

"When you first kissed me," you say, "I thought maybe it was a one-off. That you wanted something casual. And then it got more serious, and I thought maybe I could just suppress my insecurities until they went away, and I mean, I really thought you liked me."

"I do," his voice grows more agitated, his lips thinning out.

"Yeah, but..." You trail off. "You would do things that made me think, oh, he's just the perfect guy, they just looked so amazing because I was jealous, and then every so often I'd see you interact with her and it wasn't like how we are at all. I know the insecurity is my own fault, that's not on you, but I feel like it's holding both of us back."

"What do you mean holding us back? You don't think you make me happy?" He snaps, and you wince.

"Not like you are with her! Every time she comes in the room you get this look on your face, like you're speechless. Like-like the songs, Haji, I just..."

He lets go of your hands, crosses his arms.

"Do you really think I'd do that to you?"

"No, Haji, I know you'd never cheat. That's why I fell in love with you! You're a good guy, but I don't want you to wake up one day and break both our hearts because she's meant to be your girl and I'm just your fucking girlfriend." Your eyes sting, your chest heaving by the end of the sentence.

"You love me?" He's quieter now, giving you a little more space to breathe.

"What? That's not what I said."

"Yes, it is," he says, a little smile growing at the corners of his mouth, as though he can't control it. "You love me."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand why you're focusing on that," you wipe at your eyes with the back of your hand. "It's true, I just don't get it."

"Because you make me happier than she ever did," he promises, crowding you up against the counter and motioning for you to jump up to sit on top of it after you can go no further. "I'm weird when she's around because she's my ex, sure, but not because I still want her. It... ended badly. It's a miracle we didn't pull the entire friend group into it, and I never wanted to make her look bad to them, so I'm always trying really hard to look, uh, normal around her. We're on better terms now, but I haven't wanted her in years, honey."

"She knew about what you were doing when I didn't," you mumble, feeling small in the stormy release of emotions. "And she knows so much about you I don't in general."

"We grew up together," Hajime reminds you. "It would have been one of the guys. I know I didn't tell her anything. You can check my call history, my texts."

You shake your head. "I believe you."

"Really?" He arches a brow, and you laugh and push gently at his shoulder.

"Yes, really."

"You know how long I had a crush on you before I did anything about it? I thought you weren't interested, and then you finally started being even more affectionate with me than you were with our other friends, and I took the chance."

"Rookie numbers," you preen under his gaze. "I liked you... pretty much as soon as I met you. But I suppressed it 'cause I didn't want to be a homewrecker."

"You're sweet," he chuckles. "I promise, you have nothing to worry about there. I'm never gonna wake up and not be grateful to see you drooling on my bed."

"You're the worst, you know that?"

"Yeah, yeah," he looks at you fondly, swiping his thumbs under your lower lashes. "You love me, though."

"Oh," your lips part. "And the not calling in Japan?"

He scrunches his nose. "I was trying not to spoil anything. I wanted to, uh, discuss it with you first, but you should know my friends and family are all waiting to embarrass me if I have to turn everything around now."

"Okay? I'll consider your dignity, but I make no promises," you tease. He drops his head to your shoulder for a moment, taking a deep breath, and you wind a hand into his hair, petting him until he straightens.

"So, you know how I have that paid internship opportunity back home?" You nod, not wanting to be reminded. You'll do it for him, but... long distance sucks. "I went to their office and turned it down. I want to go through with my doctorate."

"Oh, that's huge!" You gasp. "That's incredible, I'm so happy for you!"

"So the part that has to do with you is, um," he says, "you're planning to stay here, right?"

"Yeah," you say, "my next step is like a twenty minute commute, thankfully."

"I want to finish my schooling in the States," he tells you, "and then after that, I want to go wherever you go."

"Hajime," you start, but he puts a shaking hand on your knee, and that shuts you up.

"I love you," he says seriously. "It's like I said, okay? You make me happier than anyone else. I know you're the one for me, if you'll have me. If not, I get—"

You grab his face and smash your lips into his, and if that doesn't get the message across? You don't know what will.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #hq x reader #hq!! x reader #iwaizumi x reader fluff #iwaizumi x reader angst #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader fluff #iwaizumi hajime x reader angst #iwaizumi x reader angst to fluff #haikyuu hurt/comfort

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jpmarvel90 · 3 months

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Don't Belong part 2

Masterlist Natasha Masterlist

Part 1

Word Count: 5499

Relationship: Mother WandaNat x Daugher Reader

Summary: After Y/n's accident on her mission, her mother's are terrified that they might not get the chance to make things right with their daughter. That's assuming Y/n wants anything to do with them when she comes around.

Nat: Mama Wanda: Mom

Nat's POV:

It's been over 24 hours since Y/n came out of surgery and she's still unconscious with a machine helping her breathe. I thought she would have been awake by now and there'd be a relief that she was on the start of her long road to recovery.

Instead, Wanda and I are glued to our seats next to her bed. We've only gotten up to use the bathroom. Otherwise, we've remained by her side. Pepper kindly offered to take the boys for as long as it's needed. Though they are both very anxious to see Y/n themselves. They might be young, but they understand that she's hurt. They love their sister, and they want her to wake up just as much as we do.

I've not slept since we found out that she was hurt, and I don't plan to until she is awake. Though the longer it goes on, the more my body is fighting against that desire. I want to be there when she wakes up to show her that her moms are going to be there for her the whole way through her recovery.

Wanda and I have spoken a lot over the last day. We've shared our pain and sadness, whilst making sure we come up with a plan to help her with her recovery and to ultimately gain her forgiveness.

We both know that Y/n will not forgive us easily, if at all. But that doesn't mean that we're not going to try with everything in us. For too long we've allowed her to go about her life thinking that we don't love or care for her anymore. She has every right to feel that way after how we've treated her. But she will not ever question that again.

The both of us are sat in silence, both of us watching over our daughter. My eyes are trained on her chest, making sure that she is still breathing, gaining a lot of comfort from the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest. However, the silence doesn't last long until the door flies open.

Out of instinct, both Wanda and I shoot up from our seats and take a defensive stance in front of our daughter to protect her from any danger. However, we soon relax when we see Yelena's worried face. "I came as soon as I could." She tells us as she moves closer to the bed, her hand hesitant as it reaches out towards her niece.

Yelena has been away for most of the time over the last few years. She's been helping to find all the widows and has only come back for a couple of days at a time. Each time though, she has always made time for us. "How is she?" She asks, as I pull up another chair for my sister.

"It's not good. She's still in critical condition. They had to remove part of her liver, but Cho reckons that if she can get through these first few days, that she'll be on track for a full recovery." I fill her in as her eyes never leave Y/n. "Clint said that it was a double agent that set her up." She states and we nod in clarification. "I'll be paying a visit to Fury when I'm done here." She announces, an anger to her voice. "We've tried to see him, but Fury won't let us anywhere near him." Wanda warns her but Yelena just scoffs. "I'll get to him one way or another." She states and I believe her. She's incredibly protective of the people she loves, and she'll want to make sure that he pays. I actually hope that she does.

"Wait, you said you were with Clint?" I question her and she nods. "Yeah, he was with me on my last mission. He's waiting outside, he didn't want to intrude." She responds, pointing towards the window behind her where Clint is stood with a young girl next to him. "Who's with him?" I ask. "Kate Bishop. Clint's stray. He's going to see if she can join Shield." Yelena explains. "She was with us and had no where else to go so I said she could stay here for now." She adds on. If Clint thinks she's worthy of Shield, then I believe that she is. She must also be good if Yelena has been working with her. She wouldn't let anyone help who would slow her down.

"How long are you back for?" Wanda steps in with her own question, making my own ears prick up for her response. "As long as I need to be. I want to be around to help with her recovery." Yelena replies, making me smile. Y/n is going to need all the help she can get, and she adores Yelena, so I'm glad that she's not going anywhere any time soon.

After a while, we indicate for Clint and Kate to come in. We go through our introduction, and I can see how enthusiastic Kate is. She's very chatty and I'm surprise she's not pissed off Clint and Yelena yet though! "I read about Y/n in the Young Initiative files." Kate shares. "Did you know she is the only recruit to ever get a perfect score. She could have passed the exams two years ago and still topped the class." She tells us enthusiastically. "Sounds like you're a fan." Yelena teases her, making the young girl blush. "I guess when your parents are the Black Widow and the Scarlett Witch, you're going to be good." Kate chuckles.

It makes my gaze drop, something that Yelena clocks on to instantly. She's not been around so hasn't seen how we've treated Y/n. I'm actually worried for when I tell her. She's going to hate us for it and I'd be surprised if she even lets us stay around Y/n. "Y/n did it all on her own. With a little help from Steve. Her talent has come from her own ability and desire to be the best." Wanda corrects Kate, showing that we have no claim to how good Y/n is at being an agent. "Oh, that's even more impressive then. You must be really proud." She smiles at us and we both nod. "More than she'll ever know." I mutter.

__________

When Kate and Clint leave, Yelena is quick to question Wanda and I. We tell her of what's been going on and how ashamed we are and how much we want to be able to fix everything. "You don't deserve to fix it." She spits angrily at us. "It's no excuse to say that you got lost in the boys. Y/n is your daughter too and she needed you." She shouts, calling us both out on our actions. "We know Yelena. We can't take back how we've treated her. But I promise that we won't every do anything like that again!" I tell her sincerely. "No, you won't. I won't let you. If you are going to be back in her life as the parents you should have been, you have to be all in. You promised to be better than we had Natasha!" She tells me firmly with a finger jabbing into my chest.

"I know Yelena. I wish I had a valid excuse or reason for what we did. I will never forgive myself. I will always have a hatred towards myself for ever making her feel the way we did. But I'm not going to wallow and hide away from it. I want to own up to the mistake and try and fix it. I know that it's not going to be an easy fix, but I will stay here and face the brunt of the anger and pain that she's feeling because I will not give up on her. Not again." I tell her passionate. "Neither of us will. I promise you Yelena, we will do everything in our power to fix this." Wanda steps up and adds her own promise, taking my hand. At least we have each other through all of this.

Yelena doesn't speak, she just looks between the two of us, her chest heaving with anger. It's intimidating to be the one on the receiving end, but we deserve it. I'm glad that Yelena is here. She simple nods her head and that is the subject over with. For now.

That night, my body ultimately wins, and I end up getting a couple of hours sleep. Though it's full of nightmares that I can't seem to escape and then when I wake up, I'm terrified that Y/n will be awake already and I'll have missed it. But when my body wakes with a jolt, I'm met with my sleeping wife and still unconscious daughter.

I stretch out and move closer to the bed and take Y/n's bruised hand in my own. "I can't lose you. You are my daughter, blood or not and I love you so much. I know I haven't shown that to you and there is no excuse for that. I also know that you have every right to never forgive me. So, my only request, is please wake up. Please survive. I don't think I can live in a world without you in it." I plead with her. Hoping that somewhere in her subconscious she can hear me. I squeeze her hand, hoping for any response, but nothing comes.

The day goes by slower than usual. That is until Cho comes in to check on Y/n and gives us the good news that she should be able to breathe without the ventilator now. Wanda and I step outside as we watch through the window. We're holding on to each other tightly as we watch. "This is good. She's strong and this is the first step to her waking up." Wanda speaks. I can hear the hesitation in her voice, showing that she is trying to convince herself more than anything. "You're right. She is so strong. I know she's going to wake up soon." I add on, smiling at my wife.

Cho soon joins us with a smile. "She's doing well. She's now breathing easily on her own. I expect she'll wake up within a few hours. I'll be back to do a full examination then so we can assess her injuries." She informs us. I feel a sense of relief wash over me. Hopefully it won't be long until our daughter is back with us.

The next couple of hours seems to drag by. Clint, Yelena and Kate all paid another visit but left to try and sort a room out for Kate in the compound. Steve was then the next to join us, taking a seat at the end of Y/n's bed. It's a long wait until we finally see a twitch to Y/n's eye.

I'm the first to my feet, leaning over to see if I had imagined the small movement. "Y/n, honey. It's mama. Can you hear me?" I ask her, fighting off the tears threatening to fall. With a flutter, her blues eyes lock on to mine. "She squeezed my hand." Wanda says excitedly. "Baby, we're here." She tells Y/n, who's got a confused look in her eyes.

"You're in the medical wing sweetheart. You got shot on your mission." I explain to her. "S-t-Steve." She stutters out. "He's fine. He's here." I reassure her, waving for Steve to come closer. "Hey kiddo. Boy we're glad to see you awake." He tells her with a relived smile. One that she returns. "I'll got and get Dr Cho." Wanda states, quickly leaving the room. "T-the m-mission." Y/n starts but Steve is quick to stop her. "Is not to worry about right now. Just know it wasn't your fault. But we'll explain it when you're doing better." He tells her, earning a nod. She reaches out her hand to Steve and he instantly takes it. "You're not allowed to scare us like that again." He chuckles, his voice wavering.

"S-sorry." She replies, her eyes fluttering again. "It's ok sweetheart. Don't fight it if you want to sleep again." I tell her softly. She doesn't really acknowledge me, but she does seem to listen as her eyes flutter shut once again.

They don't stay closed for long though, soon woken up by Cho as she comes in with a wide smile. "There's my favourite patient." She smiles at Y/n, who grins in return. "I bet you s-say that to e-everyone." Y/n responds through a struggled chuckle. "But with you I actually mean it." Cho winks, before looking over Y/n's chart and obs.

She takes the time to explain Y/n's injuries to her and the plan for her recovery. I see her face drop when she realises she's going to be in the hospital for at least another week before being on strict bed rest when she's discharged. "I'll be around if you need anything or have any questions. So please get one of the nurses to get me if you need me. That goes for all of you." Dr Cho offers. "Thank you. For everything." I tell her sincerely. She gives me a tightly smile before turning on her heel and leaving the three of us too it.

With Cho gone, it's silent in the med bay as Wanda, Steve and I just watch over Y/n. She is struggling to keep her eyes open, but I can see a pain in them when they lock on to mine. "You should get some rest kiddo." Steve speaks up as Y/n nods in return. "W-will you s-stay?" She asks, making Steve smile widely. "Of course." He returns, moving to get another chair to sit with us. At that confirmation, Y/n seems comfortable enough to let her eyes close and for sleep to take back over.

It's almost agony to see her asleep once again. We've been waiting for so long for her to wake up, for her to be asleep so soon is tough. I almost want to start apologising and showing her that we're going to change and it's going to stick. But I don't want to overwhelm her. At the moment, her recovery is the most important thing. As much as I hate it, earning her forgiveness will have to wait.

"Now she's awake, you two should head to your apartment. See the twins, eat some proper food, and get some sleep. I can stay with her." Steve offers, but I'm quick to decline. "I don't want to leave her." I tell him, whilst gripping her hand tighter, my eyes not leaving her sleeping form. Steve lets out a sigh. "She'll be asleep for a while, and she needs you both on top form." He tells us.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and look up to see Wanda smiling warmly at me. I hadn't even noticed that she had moved from the other side of the bed. "Steve's right. We've been here for days. If we want to do what's right by Y/n, then we need to look after ourselves as well." She speaks sense.

With a huff I stand from my seat and lean forward to press a kiss to Y/n's head. "We'll be back later sweetheart. I love you so much." I tell her softly then move so that Wanda can say goodbye too. With one last look to our daughter, we both reluctantly leave. Though I smile when I see Steve move closer and take Y/n's hand in his own. Although I will forever regret how we have treated Y/n, I'm glad that she has had Steve there for her.

Y/n's POV:

Well, that was not how I wanted my first mission to go. I wanted to impress everyone, not end up in the med bay with part of my liver missing! Waking up was a weird experience. Seeing my parents' faces were the last thing I expected to see. They seem genuinely worried, but that was probably all a front for everyone else. They can't be seen to not care about the daughter they've ignored for the last few years.

When I wake up next, I see Steve smile down at me. "You're still here." I say and he nods. "Of course. I wanted to make sure that you're ok." He replies, making my own smile grow. I look around and my smile drops when I see that my moms aren't here. I can't hide that it hurts a little that they didn't stick around. But I shouldn't care about that. They haven't cared about me.

"Should have guessed they would go once I woke up." I complain, wincing as I try to adjust myself in bed. "Careful Y/n/n." Steve scolds me as he shoots to his feet to help adjust my pillows. "I told them to go." He admits and I look at him with a frown. "Not like that. But they have not left your side since you were brought in. They weren't looking after themselves and if they are going to help you through your recovery, they need to be at 100%" He explains but I just scoff.

"I don't need their help with my recovery. They didn't care before I was hurt, they don't get to care now." I groan. Steve takes his seat again and looks at me with his, "I know I'm right" look. "Y/n. I know you don't believe it, but they do care for you. They were cut up when you got hurt. They were devastated that they wouldn't have the chance to be able to make things up to you." He says. I roll my eyes, but he continues. "Look, I'm not saying you have to forgive them. But you can't question how much they have cared for you over the last few days."

"Fine, but I'm not going back to their place to recover." I huff, folding my arms. "Considering you've been shot and in a medically induced coma for the last few days, it's good to see it hasn't affected your attitude." Steve teases.

We sit in silence as I think about my parents. They surely can't think that just because they've been sat beside my bed whilst I've been hurt is going to make up for everything that they have done over the years? Who's to say that they won't go back to how they were once I'm healed? I have a place at Sheild now. Somewhere that I can make a name for myself and create my own family.

"I'm sorry I messed up the mission." I break the silence, my mind now moving on to the fact I failed at my first mission. "You didn't fail anything kiddo. We were set up. If anything, I should apologise to you. They were after me, but you were the one to get hurt. You did a great job of take on as many agents as you did." He explains, taking my hand in his. "You fought, and it's because of your skill and ability that you're alive. You impressed everyone." He assures me, running his thumb over my bruised knuckles.

Our moment is broken when my moms walk back in. "You're awake!" Mom says excitedly as both her and mama move into the room quickly. Steve moves back from my side, which I frown at as mama takes my hand in hers. I'm quick to pull it away. The hurt that flashes across her face doesn't go unnoticed, but I'm not in the mood to pretend like everything is ok right now.

"How are you feeling?" Mom asks, appearing to my left. "I'm fine." I respond shortly, receiving a warning raised eyebrow from Steve. "Are you in pain? I can get the nurse to come in and get you some pain killers." Mom fusses. "I'm fine." I repeat the same words. "That's not true, you've been wincing since you've woken up." Steve rats me out. Traitor. "If a 40 calibre bullet went through you, I'm sure you'd be wincing too." I snap. "Told you. Amazing how your attitude hasn't changed." Steve chuckles.

However, both my mom's look at me with worried looks. "I'm going to get Dr Cho. You look pale." Mom worries before rushing out the room.

Mama reaches forward and places her hand on my head, which I quickly try and move away from her touch. "You're hot. I hope you're not running a fever." She states. "Like you care." I mumble, but she hears it and that look of hurt appears on her face again. "Look Y/n. I know you believe that we don't care or love you. But that couldn't be further from the truth. I want nothing more than to talk to you about it and start to make up for everything. But right now, all that matters is your recovery. You can hate us and ignore us or yell at us, but we are not going anywhere." She states firmly, her eyes locked on to mine. I just roll my eyes and turn to look at Dr Cho who has walking into the room.

She checks me over and I notice the frown on her face. "What's up?" I question. "I'm worried about your temperature. I want to run some tests, but with the inflammation to your incision, I'm worried you've got an infection. It's nothing to worry about as we've caught it early. But we'll need to keep a close eye on you." She replies. "So, no discharge yet then." I huff.

Cho chuckles and looks up from my chart. "It's funny you think you were close even without this infection." She teases. "Aren't you meant to be nice to me? I'm a patient after all." I pout. "If I'm on good behaviour, can I get out early?" I plead. "Maybe in a week. But you'll be on strict bed rest and need to be cared for. You're still technically a minor." Cho breaks the news and I know exactly what she's getting at. "But I'm 18 in like 4 days! Besides, I literally got shot on a mission for Shield. Surely that's enough?" I argue.

"Y/n, you are going to struggle to walk, let alone be able to properly look after yourself. Even after you're 18, you'll need support during your recovery. It isn't a simple road ahead for you." Dr Cho returns. "So, what are you saying?" I get straight to the point. "I'm recommending that you are discharged to your family. You'll be in the compound so if anything goes wrong, you can get the right medical attention straight away." She explains. "Really? There are no other options. Can't I stay with Steve or something?" I ask but she shakes her head.

"Y/n, come on. It's what is best for you. Your moms will be there to help. I'll be away on missions so can't give you the care you need." Steve speaks up, but soon shrinks back as I glare at him. "Really, what makes you think that I'll get the care I need at home?" I growl, my anger building. "Y/n..." Mama starts but I cut her off. "No! You can't just stand there and act like the caring parents when you have done nothing to back that claim up. I've been the forgotten daughter for years! Slowly I have been pushed out this family and now you want me to just act like everything is ok and trust that you'll look after me?!" I yell, that frustration finally finding its way out.

"Y/n, you need to calm down. Your heartrate is getting too high." Dr Cho tries to calm me down. "Kiddo. You're ok. You need to give them a chance." Steve tries to reason. "A chance like I was given? I've practically raised myself these last few years!" I snap. Why is he suddenly defending them?!

"Please sweetheart. You're going to make yourself sicker. We want to be there for you. We're not denying how badly we've treated you. But I promise that it will never happen again. You'll be safe with us. We just want to be able to care for you and help you get to full health." Mama speaks, her eyes filled with tears. I look between her, and mom and I see that she's almost inconsolable. "Do I have a choice?" I sigh, turning to Cho. "Technically, yes. But physically, you won't be able to follow through with it." She breaks the bad news. Suddenly the sounds of my heart monitor becomes noticeable so I lie back and take a couple of deep breaths. I can feel all their eyes on me, and I let out a sigh. "Fine whatever." I respond. I just need to do everything that Cho tells me so I can heal as fast as possible and move back to Shield and start my life again.

__________

The next few days are not fun. My infection hit me pretty hard, and I spent a lot of time either sweating or freezing whilst fighting the urge to throw up. I hate being stuck in this bed and I just want to be healthy again and being able to go on missions. Before it went south, I was loving it. Even if it was just a small one.

I'm also finding it hard that my mothers are suddenly around all the time. Mama is much better at not smothering me. Mom on the other hand, she is always fussing. But that's her and I used to love it when I was younger, when she actually cared about my wellbeing. "Wands, she's already said she has enough pillows." Mama sighs, her own frustrations growing. "Yes, sorry you did." Mom apologises, slowly putting the pillow down she had in her hands.

"Can I get you anything else? Some food. Though the food here is pretty horrible. When you're back home, I'll make sure to cook you something tasty with the food you're allowed to eat." She starts to ramble. I'm not going to lie, that does sound amazing, and I'd kill for a bowl of paprikash right now. I remember when mom taught me how to cook it. It was one of the last memories I have of us spending quality time together.

I don't realise I'm smiling until I see both my parents looking at me warmly. I quickly shake it off, not wanting to let them think that I'm enjoying this in the slightest. "You know what. A sandwich would be good." I say, taking them both by surprise. I've not been very talkative, but I could do with a break right now. I know I won't be able to get rid of both of them, but I can at least take a break from mom fussing.

"Of course. I'll go and make you something up and bring it down. The bread is always dry here." She speaks, grabbing a couple of things and turning to leave. "Maybe I'll check with Cho if you could have a smoothy." She mumbles, making mama chuckle as she leaves.

I let out a breath of relief. I feel slightly less suffocated. But I am still very aware of mama's eyes boring into me. I'm used to her being quiet. She always observes, making her conclusions before talking when it's necessary. But seeing her now, it feels different. I'm pretty good at reading people and I can tell that she is lost in her own thoughts. I've only seen her like it a couple of times before and it's been after particularly difficult missions. Ones that bring up bad memories for her.

I grab the TV remote and try and find something to watch. I end up with Rizzoli and Isles on. I don't really watch it, but the sound is helping to break the awkward silence. Just after they break the case in the show, I notice mama sit more upright in her seat.

"When I found you in Hydra, I knew instantly that I wanted to help you. There was something about you that melted my heart. When we found out that you had no family to return you to, it wasn't even a question, I knew I was going to adopt you. In that short space of time, I had spent with you, I grew to love you." She starts. I don't look to her, my focus on the TV.

"Even though you had been through so much, you had this happiness around you. You were grateful for everything and found the joy in the smallest thing. I just wanted to give you a life that you deserved. When I married Wanda, I was so happy that I could give you two loving parents." From the corner of my eye, I can see her smile tearily as she picks at the skin around her fingers.

"I failed you Y/n. When I adopted you, I promised that I would be the best parent to you. That you would never want for anything. What's worse, is I never even noticed what I was doing. What we were both doing. I've always prided myself on being able to read people, but I couldn't see the damage I was doing to my own daughter." She continues, pain evident in her voice.

"I wish I could go back in time to change how we acted with you. To include you fully with the twins, to support you in your work in the Shield Programme. To show that even with the boys, you were loved and an integral part of this family. All I can do is apologise and promise that we are not going to let that happen again." She finishes, finally look up to me, a couple of tears falling down her cheeks.

"It's been years. We're not just talking about a couple of months here." I speak up, still not able to lock eyes with her. "Steve became more of a parent for me than the two of you." I admit, and that seems to make mama's heart break a little more. "Is it because I'm not biologically yours and moms?" I ask, my voice shaking.

Mama is quickly to her feet and takes my hand in between both of hers. "No. Of course not Detka, and I will forever hate myself that I've allowed you to think otherwise." She tries to reassure me, a panic in her eyes. "I wish I could give you a reason for why we acted like we did. Initially, it was because we were so focused on the boys, but after that, I have no idea. I wish I could pinpoint why, maybe it would make this all easier. I know you probably don't believe it, but I love you as much as those boys. Blood doesn't matter to me. You are my daughter as much as they are my sons. I know and feel that through every fibre of my body." She expresses. The sincerity is evident in both her voice and facial expressions. "Saying sorry isn't going to fix this. You only knew what you were doing because I called you out on it. Had I not gotten shot, would you have made any effort to rectify what was wrong?" I question her, my anger growing.

"We wanted to. We were planning on taking you to breakfast to talk and work out a way that we could make things right with you. But you had gone, and we couldn't get to you. You have a lot of people at Sheild that love you." She chuckles humourlessly. That is true. Maria is like an aunt to me and her and Fury happily kept my room allocation secret, "Look, I know that we don't deserve your forgiveness, but it doesn't mean that we are going to stop trying." She states firmly.

"It's not that simple mama. I have learnt to live without you now and I've got my own place with Shield. We can both move on with you getting your perfect biological family and I get the career I want." I say, but that only makes mama cry more. "No, our family is only perfect if you are in it too!" She almost shouts, but she's quick to calm herself down. "Look, we've got to live together through your recovery, let's just see how things go after that ok." She proposes. "Fine, but I can't promise anything will change." I respond and she nods. "I know. But I'm going to try everything to earn your forgiveness." She comes back with a newfound confidence.

We fall back into a silence, one that feels more comfortable. Mama looks less stressed, but her brow is still furrowed. When mom returns, the quiet is broken again, despite mama trying to get her to calm down. I try not to smile when she tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. I miss this caring side of my parents so much. But for me, it's too little, too late.

Taglist: @reggierizzoli @ordelixx @mousetheorist

#marvel fanfiction #natasha romanoff #avengers fanfiction #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #marvel #avengers #romanoff #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat x reader

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itsabouttimex2 · 7 months

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Monkiefam: Part One

Transformation Troubles

(Part Zero) (Part One) (Part Two)

“It’s for your own safety, kiddo.”

Those words ring in your mind as you stare out of the window, watching as your “father” trains your “brother”. You idly watch them clash, deftly swinging their staffs, blocking, counter-attacking, and breaking through each other’s defenses. Wukong stands leagues above MK, even though the kid is learning fast. You’ve gotten used to the sight of the monkey demon correcting his mentee’s stance, shifting his arms and legs, hauling him off the ground and dusting his clothes off when he knocks him down. Once, you would’ve stood in wide-eyed awe, caught on every fluid strike and powerful swing. Now, it’s become so commonplace that you barely bat an eye.

You only really start to pay attention when they start rapidly shifting between several forms from the 72 Transformations technique.

Although your “family” had allowed you to partake in basic training exercises like stretches and warmups, anything beyond that was strictly off-limits to you. As MK mastered skill after skill and bolstered his arsenal of techniques, you were stuck inside, only able to watch him grow. All to keep you safe, in their own words. One was a monkey demon and one was an inheritor to the legacy and powers of said monkey demon. They were powerful and mystical, and you were a regular human, short-lived and fragile. Weaker, slower, squishier.

But more than smart enough to learn a few of their tricks.

And brave enough to try one out.

“If you wanna change your body, you gotta change your thinking first, bud.”Wukong had instructed MK with these words not too long ago. From a hawk to a tiger to even something as small as a butterfly, Sun Wukong had already mastered all 72 and MK was well on his way to learning to do so himself.

You only had one in mind to start with. If you wanted to ever escape the smothering clutches of these two warriors, you weren’t going to be able to do it with any kind of mindless force. Being able to take the form of a hawk might’ve sounded useful, but the Monkey King could easily outspeed you. A tiger? Both of them could take the same form, and were much stronger to boot. Picking something like a spider would easily keep MK away, but wouldn’t deter Wukong in the slightest.

So instead, you settled on the monkey. Then, you had plausible deniability on your side. You could shrug it off as ‘wanting to be more like him’ or ‘wanting to see what it was like’ if Wukong asked you why you’d been practicing transformations at all. MK wouldn’t need any sort of explanation from you, because he’d probably just get excited about you learning such a technique.

You have your plan. And your reasoning, if things go poorly. All that’s left to do is to get started.

Change your thinking.

Wild, exuberant energy. Skillful jumps and leaps. Dexterous limbs and powerful bodies. Unbridled curiosity. Devotion to your troop.

An innate desire to revel in freedom.

At first, you had worried that the transformation might hurt. But then the whole world flashes gold and your body shifts and reshapes, and you feel better than you ever have before. A burst of adrenaline rushes through you, glowing sparks of white hot energy coursing your veins. You lie there on the floor for a few minutes, trying to regain your composure as the searing ecstasy of success flows through your shifted body.

And then there’s a knock on the door. You try to scramble to your feet, only to trip over your unfamiliar appendages. You slip and lightly thud against the floor, which only worries your captor more.

“You doing okay in there, bud? Training ran a little long, huh?”

You can’t respond. You try to respond, but nothing akin to speech comes out. Only silk-soft chittering. Then it hits you.

You aren’t a gorilla, a chimpanzee, an orangutan.

“Are you still mad that we won’t let you train with us? Am I getting the silent treatment now, kid?”

No, you’ve shifted into one of the little monkeys that flourish on Flower Fruit Mountain.

“Aww, don’t be too upset, alright? Hey, I’ll have MK bring us some of those noodles the two of you like, okay? The three of us can eat together.”

And you don’t know how to turn back.

“Y/N?”

You only have a few seconds to register the concern in his voice before the door between the two of you flies off the handles, broken down by a single kick from Wukong. He crosses the threshold into your room, looking around not only in worry, but tentative anger. If you had broken out again, he was going to…

You look up. He looks down.

There’s only a couple of seconds where he’s confused, head tilted curiously to the side at the sight of the little monkey in front of him. Then, recognition writes itself across his face.

His eyes widen in adoration as the end of his tail curls into a sort of heart. He dashes forward and snatches you off the ground with a huge grin, holding you up to his face. He nuzzles you against himself, brushing his cheek against your own. He only pauses to call out to his student.

“MK, bud, you gotta come see this!”

Once you hear excited footsteps pounding down the halls, you know that you’re in for a long day.

#platonic yandere #Yandere Lego Monkie Kid #Yandere LMK #Platonic Yandere LMK #Yandere Sun Wukong #Yandere MK #Monkiefam

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sunshine-jesse · 5 months

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Ashley Literally Did Nothing Wrong, Fuck You, Fight Me

Alt title: Ashley Graves: The most convenient scapegoat in the world

I'm going to espouse a take here that will no doubt be controversial, as you can tell by the title. This is a take I've created from my hollistic understanding of the events of the game, and isn't dependent on any one single point I make in this essay. Because of that, I want you to read it with an open mind; if you hyperfocus on one or two smaller details I might've gotten wrong or are fallaciously interpretated, and either use that to discount the whole essay or go into the comment section and immediately try to debunk my interpretation of that event, that'll make it obvious to me that you're not trying to seriously engage with the core of what I'm trying to say. Because unless quite literally everything I've said here is wrong, I feel confident in saying this:

Ashley Graves did nothing wrong.

Moreover, I think Ashley is on the level of people like Rossiu, Shinji Ikari, and Skylar White as far as people who are mistreated by their fandoms goes.

At first this was going to be an essay about how I don't think the demons are evil, using textual and thematic evidence to show that they're just part of a system that deals mostly fairly with humans and doesn't have any nefarious plans, or at least nefarious plans that stand to fuck anyone over. But then I realized that, goodness gracious, that is boring as shit to write! But I looked at what I had written already and realized that I could write something else with it: something better. I could sum up a lot of the points made in my prior essays and elaborate upon them in much more detail, showing why I think certain themes are obviously present within this game. And here, I intend on doing that.

I've spoken a lot before about how Ashley is a scapegoat for all of Andrew's worst habits; and to a lesser extent, her mother's. The game makes it seemingly obvious that she's the bad one, and generally just a Very Not Good person. It shows her and her brother committing many different acts that are, under most moral systems, wrong, and implicitly implies that she's the reason that Andrew ever did those things. It implies that she's corrupting him, that he could be better and refuses- or is unable to- due to her poking and prodding. But… is that the truth? Is that how their relationship actually works, in practice? I don't believe so. I think I've made it obvious by now that I believe the exact opposite!

I'm going to start off by tackling the morality behind their actions, especially relative to the world they're in. Specifically, I'm going to tackle how the game presents the morality of their actions from a thematic point of view, and any statements it may or may not make.

First of all, TCOAL plays with a lot of different taboos- demon summoning, cannibalism, incest, murder- but the game goes through great lengths to muddy the moral weight of the siblings' actions. Every single action they commit is portrayed in the most neutral possible light- killings were done in self defense (with one notable exception), or done to people who greatly wronged them, cannibalism was a necessity to survive (also with one notable exception), incest is shown to come from a marked improvement in their relationship- leading me to believe that this game is taking a hard morally nihilistic stance. Else, they'd be shown to suffer for their actions, when in reality, the literal exact opposite is happening; they are being rewarded for it. This isn't necessarily glorifying the actions, but instead showing that even the worst of actions can potentially be excused, but whether or not you do is up to the reader. Hence, nihilism, or at the very least, skepticism (as noted by Lisafication). There's an existentialist reading of this too, but I think much of that is contingent on the events of chapter 3 so I won't get into that here.

It contrasts this mostly nihilistic perspective on interpersonal taboos with the deep societal ills that drive people to commit such actions. Evil exists at every level of analysis here, but curiously, the only thing that are shown to do direct harm to others without having a justification of some kind- be it self-defense or retaliation- are those societal ills. There is no (morally) good reason to quarantine people, starve them, and harvest their organs. There's no good reason to burn all evidence and then put a hit on the ones who did escape. There's no good reason to extort sexual favors from someone in exchange for food. These are deep structural problems that force people to either retaliate/lash out or enable people's most exploitative or abusive habits lest they just let themselves die.

And thus, the obvious evils become much less obvious. The game makes a point of subverting the obvious or the well-known when it comes to morals, and I think it does so when it comes to everything else, too. Outside of those societal ills (so far, ch3 might have something else to say), every situation where someone could obviously be shown as the bad person in a situation is immensely more complex than it first appears. So much so that I'd argue that displaying said complexity and subverting simplicity to force/encourage people to analyze things deeper is one of the central themes of the game.

So why, exactly, does he blame so much on her? It's because Ashley is the world's most convenient scapegoat, and the game is well-aware of this and displays it in ways both obvious and not.

First off: the title screen has Ashley wielding the cleaver, establishing that she’s the violent one. It's covered in blood, too, implying that she's the one more driven to kill. The reality of this is the opposite; Andrew is the one with less hesitation to inflict violence on others, the cleaver is his weapon, and most of the kills in the story are done by him (and fully justified). Ashley might push him to do these violent acts, but… does she?

Her reaction to the death of the first warden is one of utter shock.

And her expression afterwards?

This is not the look of someone who enjoyed the fact that someone killed for her sake. This is not the look of someone who finds joy to be had in violence. It's not even the look of someone who is apathetic towards violence. It almost seems to express shame or guilt, but at the very least, she's timid over it. At the very least, it's an "oh shit, he actually had to do that for my sake" face. Not a "haha, I am making him worse!" face.

Not to mention, not only does Andrew kill the first Warden without a care in the world, he proactively kills the 302 lady to eliminate all witnesses, and because he believes Ashley would want him to. But Ashley actually grills him for it; she didn't want the 302 lady to die, although she hardly had good-person-reasons for it. But that's not my point. The point is that she is not the violent one between the two of them.

The door doesn't open in response to violence, remember?

The game intentionally misleads us.

And what happens when Ashley tries to make him take responsibility for all this violence? To point out that she didn't force him to do anything and that he chose to do all of it, including lock Nina in the box? She lashes out, hits him a few times… and then he goes to strangle her, and doesn't let go until she acknowledges that he has no reason for her to be around. He literally doesn't cease his threat to her life until she acknowledges she's useless to him.

I acknowledge that this isn't the most charitable framing for Andrew, and maybe too charitable for Ashley. After all, she wasn't indignant. She was mocking him. She found it hilarious. But I have reasons for that charitability that I'll go over towards the end. But even with that charitability in mind, I don't think my reading is too off base. Defaulting to laughter or mocking in stressful situations is just what Ashley does. She's not indignant about it; she just finds it hilarious that people keep pretending to be better than her, when they're not.

Andrew killed the 302 lady and used Ashley as a scapegoat to justify it; this is indisputable, stated in the text during the dream. This alone validates Ashley's point of view. There is no interpretation of this event that doesn't paint Andrew as every bit as unscrupulous as Ashley, and thinking she corrupted him into this- when it was both one of the first actions he did on his own in the story and something he explicitly uses Ashley as a scapegoat for- is just ridiculous. It's frankly unreasonable. She has every right to be sick of being used as a scapegoat. And at the very least, whether or not you accept the idea that Andrew only let Ashley go once she acknowledged that she's useless to him, he's still so taken aback by his misinterpretation of Ashley's desires that HE goes to strangle HER.

This is NOT Andrew triumphantly standing up to his abuser. This is both of their masks slipping; Andrew revealing how violent and insistent on keeping up his internal narrative that he is, and Ashley revealing that she's getting tired of being blamed for everything.

And then, when he finally lets her go… she hugs him, and acknowledges that she's happy that Nina is gone, which makes little sense at the face of it. Why would that be her first response to being let go, when it was ostensibly what made Andrew so upset to begin with?

I think, to her, it's a conciliatory gesture. As chapter 2 showed us, she's more than willing to take responsibility for violence to relieve Andrew of stress over it, as evidenced by her finishing off their parents. This is an earlier instance of that; by acknowledging she was happy that Nina was dead, she took responsibility for it. She willingly framed herself as a bad person here, so Andrew wouldn't have to be.

She let herself be the scapegoat, because it's all she ever knew. She put the mask back on.

This alone is enough to challenge the idea that Ashley 'corrupts' Andrew in any meaningful way. How, exactly, can you define it as corrupt when society itself is twisted enough to force these actions to survive? In a more sane world, a lot of their actions would've been bad, sure, but they're also actions that the siblings probably wouldn't have done in a more sane world. Ashley's actions aren't making Andrew worse, they're helping to ensure their survival. You could say that this is still corruptive in its own way, but at that point it seems like your reasoning is motivated by having already had that narrative rather than making a good-faith reading of their dynamic.

At no point did she actually make him worse; he was already like that and just used her as an excuse.

Next up is the Nina situation. This one is obviously cut and dry- Ashley manipulates Andrew into killing Nina because she wants no competition between the two of them. It's not Andrew's fault and Ashley was an evil abuser from the jump. Obvious, right?

No. It's really not.

It's pretty strongly implied that Ashley was mistreated by people her whole life. The Lemon Cupcake scene shows this in more detail, about how people always neglect or ignore her birthdays, but she also says that nobody likes her because she's weird and loud in the Nina flashback too. But unless something big happened in between the two flashbacks, none of this behavior indicates particularly maladaptive or even strange tendencies on Ashley's part. She's a needy, bratty child, and the closest thing to a friend she has- Nina- wants to take away the one thing from her that's a source of comfort and emotional validation.

It's not entirely rational, sure! But it also -makes perfect sense-. NOBODY treated her well throughout her entire life; it's strongly implied that Nina never did either, given Nina's reaction to Ashley being there and the lower left-hand painting past the Questionable door showing her being distant from the two of them. We can also see a star bouncing off of her head, and stars represent closeness in this game, so it shows there was an attempt made somewhere along the line, it's just not clear as to who made the attempt.

At the very least, Nina's reaction of disappointment fed into Ashley's preconceived notions of how people treat her, and how she deserves to be treated. Although, from what has been directly stated, rather than implied, Nina was nothing more than an innocent victim in this scenario; I don't mean to take that away from her.

"But she didn't care when Nina died?"

So? If Nina treated her like trash for most of her life, why should she care? She didn't expect Nina to die. It was just an acceptable consequence. You can say "That's not how normal kids act!" all you want, but there's a level of spite and apathy that comes with intense bullying and emotional neglect that I don't think you really understand unless you've been there to the extent someone like Ashley has implied to be.

Andrew, meanwhile, was the one who told Ashley that they had to lock Nina in the box to keep them in there. He's the one who looked for and found the stick to keep them locked in. You could say he was coerced by an abusive person into hurting someone, sure, but you'd be wrong. Cataclysmically wrong, even. Like, if you actually think that a seven year old girl (nobody wears overalls past the age of seven) can have anything approximating an abusive dynamic with her as the perpetrator with someone both older and stronger than her, you frankly have some issues with women you need to work out. That's simply not how abuse dynamics work at that age.

Andrew wasn't entirely responsible for it either, mind- he was just a kid who should never have been saddled with this kind of responsibility. But that's not my point; the point is that it enables other people, Andrew included, to use her as a scapegoat to avoid his own responsibility. All this scene does is retroactively justify any preconceptions you might've had about them from seeing their adult selves first. But the moment you start digging, it becomes much less obvious who's really culpable here. Andrew was, as evidenced by the blood oath scene, fully aware that he held the advantage over her in strength, and managed to give up nothing when making the oath while he made Ashley swear to silence. He was fully aware that he could've chosen to do better, but he refused, and instead opted to reinforce Ashley's insecurities for the sake of exerting control over her.

I've said before that the 302 lady was murdered without any input from Ashley, but this is also relevant on a meta-level because it's done without any input from the player, either. Both of the murders in chapter 1 were like that, whereas all that we, the player can choose to do in that chapter is either solve puzzles, or hilariously, die. The only person with control here is Andrew, the character, and this is reinforced by the fact that we have no control over him for much of the Nina flashback, too. He locks her in the box regardless of our input, even though Ashley spends a lot of time trying to convince him. The main difference between the Nina flashback and the scenes in the apartment is that Ashley had absolutely no idea that any of that was going to happen in the present, whereas it's something she wanted with Nina- which isn't that big of a difference when discussing how much agency she really has.

As much as the game frames Ashley as a manipulator- and much of the fanbase uncritically accepts- she is given shockingly little in-game control over many of the actions committed. Even in the case of the Hitman- as a good friend of mine pointed out- the only choice the player is given is whether or not to check the closet and be killed; an impulsive decision leading to a swift and unceremonious end. In the end, Andrew is the one given the choice to kill the hitman, and we can consciously choose whether or not his reaction is panicked or measured. No such choice is given to Ashley, as most of her reactions are impulsive and spontaneous rather than planned. This is not the makings of a standard "manipulative evil bitch" trope. She's pretty consistently portrayed as someone with poor impulse and emotional control who loudly and aggressively states her intent in every single scenario she's in.

And you can still call what she says and does manipulative despite that, sure, but at what point are you just pathologizing relatively normal (if extreme and highly emotional) social interactions for the sake of fitting into a narrative you already held?

We see Ashley's status as a scapegoat for people to use to pretend to be normal reach its most blatant with the parents. This time it's pretty cut and dry to anyone that doesn't already have it in their mind that Ashley is evil and unforgivable. Mrs. Graves explicitly brings up the possibility of a normal life without Ashley to Andrew in the basement, and claims that Ashley was at fault for shutting her out. She would've been a normal parent otherwise, right? Well, no; the game wastes no time in showing that this wasn't the case in the Burial ending.

From when Ashley was a baby, Mrs. Graves was already tired of her shit, and too emotionally exhausted to be a parent. Despite her attempts at blaming Ashley, she would've never been a normal parent unless Ashley was a golden child in the same way that Andrew was. And yet Ashley didn't even deny shutting her mom out. She didn't deny the chance to be used as a scapegoat; it was all she ever knew. The fact that Mrs. Graves had the audacity to claim that she was a saint when she was never prepared to be a parent for a child who didn't make it easy, and when she was willing to sell out her children and let them die for a life insurance payment is absolutely astounding.

This alone should've been enough to recontextualize everything we supposedly know about how responsible Ashley really is in all of this, but bad parents have a knack for being great at manipulating both family members and everyone viewing from the outside, including the people playing the game.

And almost including Andrew.

Andrew almost accepting the mom's offer is the single most tragic moment in the game, by far.

Dandy said it best in his video essay: By Ashley leaving Andrew alone with their parents, she showed that she is capable of changing. That she is capable of getting better. She showed that she loves and respects Andrew enough to be able to put aside her usual role as the scapegoat and allow him to make the decision that was for the best for both of them. And make no mistake, it was for the best; if the mom really DID sell out the siblings, and given the two of them were already on the run for supposedly being dead, there was no hope of any of this ever working out. They saw through the conspiracy and knew the truth of how the quarantine operations really worked. They were an active threat to one of the most powerful entities seen in the setting so far, to the point where they had a hitman sent after them.

Mrs. Graves had every reason to sell them out again, for their presence in a public setting was more than enough to put everyone in their family in danger. Mrs. Graves had every reason to believe that the normalcy she wanted was nothing that could ever be grasped again so long as her children were alive, and as such, it was clear that she had nothing to offer either Andrew or Ashley. Ashley trusted Andrew to see through their obvious manipulations and lies, and understand that the parents had nothing left to give them. She trusted him to love her more than the false promises their parents could give.

…And yet. In spite of it all.

In spite of her love, in spite of clearly displaying that she can grow up and become a person that causes him less stress, and in spite of Ashley showing that all she wants now is their safety and security…

Andrew can still choose to consider Ashley the problem. He can still choose to use her as the scapegoat he always has.

He can still choose to see her as the one thing that caused him to be this way, that stands in between him and normalcy, when she, not once, forced him to do anything.

Were he to accept Mrs. Graves' offer, this would've been the single most tragic moment in the game. It almost was, and still stands to be, because he ignores every indication that things could be better for the sake of his own narrative, and a narrative echoed by much of the fandom.

But no matter what ending was picked, things could be better. They could've been better all along. Compared to chapter 1, their dynamic in chapter 2 is already much healthier. Their banter is less venomous, and while they still poke and prod each other in ways that aren't exactly great, they don't get into the same violent fights we saw in the 302 room. By all accounts, what happened in that room was an outlier. Even when they find themselves in their parents' house, where they stand to do the One Thing That Means They Would Never Be Normal Again, Ever (ignoring the fact that this is already a lost cause by then), Ashley doesn't get into any fights with Andrew in the same way she did back in the apartment. All she wants is affirmation and security. She doesn't even lay into her mom like she lays into Julia over the phone, even in their private conversations.

We’re led to believe that she’s still getting worse because the actions she’s taking are more extreme, but her attitudes and behaviors are much, much different. The actual actions they're taking are so obviously the right thing to do (both morally and practically) that I don't think it's until they eat their parents that you should make a double take and go "Wow, maybe these goblins actually are kinda fucked up," because until then, well… everything is justified! Perfectly so! Even then, eating their parents serves a purpose, even if not a mentally healthy one.

Maybe she’s calmer because she’s in control over the situation, but if the calls she made to Julia are any indication (independent of the theory that she didn’t actually say those things), were she unchanged as a person, she still would’ve lashed out at their mother over how much more useful she is to Andrew than their parents were, or something of that nature. Something about how nothing their mom offers could compete with what Ashley gives. But she makes no such claims. She feels no need to prove anything to her parents, or to reaffirm her place in Andrew’s life even in the face of her mother challenging it (or at least implying such a challenge). Regardless of her insecurities, she’s changed. It’s hard to see, but she has.

And then Andrew can ignore that and consider betraying her because he refuses to believe that she's willing to make their dynamic work, when she shows many different indications of being willing to concede as long as Andrew stops giving her mixed signals.

A friend of mine put it best, and I'm pretty much quoting her word for word here, because of how strongly I agree with it. When I look at Ashley, I find very few actual "flaws." I see familiar wounds.

The Burial ending, despite being triumphant and not nearly as "dark" as some people think, is still very, very sad. A lot of abusive dynamics are characterized by someone having to fight every step of the way to get what they need from the other person, usually some kind of emotional validation or relief. This is what happens between Andrew and Ashley for most of the game: Ashley wants Andrew to treat their relationship as special, to acknowledge there's something to it beyond just him going through the motions. And yet for most of the game, he refuses to, especially in chapter 1. And then, in Burial, when he does…

She's confused.

A lot of people view this as her being afraid of losing control over Andrew, since her "Andy," who she can push around, is gone. Andrew has changed, and the same tricks wouldn't work. But that's not what that is; it's not about control, it's about her finally getting what she wants from him without having to fight. She still thinks about using sex as leverage to keep him around, but that's because she's never understood what it's like to have someone actually want to be around her. And I speak from experience; when you no longer have to fight for every little bit of emotional validation or relief, when you no longer have to keep checking your messages to keep an argument going so you can finally be proven right, when you no longer have to force yourself to let go, to stop engaging, the reaction isn't happiness. It's not relief.

It's confusion. It's discontent.

Because something you've tied so much of yourself up in to is no longer there, despite it being more peaceful, it still feels wrong. The dynamic still has to be this way in your mind, because you've never known anything else. You latch on to whatever you can in order to justify that, and your actions are still heavily biased in favor of maintaining your place in that nonexistent dynamic. This isn't manipulation; it's trauma. And the fact that Ashley almost immediately understands that Andrew is changing is nothing short of a miracle. By consolidating past and present Andrew into a single person rather than splitting them into two, she showing that she can actually heal from that trauma. And all Andrew had to do to enable this is to acknowledge that she CAN change, that things CAN be better, and that everyone who claims to be better than her is full of shit.

I've analyzed the events of the story in a way that may seem needlessly antagonistic to some characters, and overly charitable to others. But I have to ask you, that if you disagree with anything I've said:

Where does that disagreement come from? What about my narrative clashes with your own? -Why- does it clash? Is it because the game presents your interpretation as obvious, whereas mine is not? Is it because you've experienced someone like Ashley before in your life, and you know it when you see it? Maybe you strongly identify with Andrew, and view his status as a doormat with no agency to be obvious? Or did you just accept the narrative that much of the fanbase has taken at face value, without further analysis other than building on top of it?

I don't believe these things to be contrarian; I've held most of these opinions since my first or second playthrough. I don't believe what I do because you don't, I believe what I do because I understand what Ashley has been through. I've experienced a lot of the specific traumas she had, such as deep feelings of isolation and being deprived of the emotional validation I need from the people who need to give it. I know what it's like to be misunderstood, to have who and what I am taken for granted, and to be terrified of being abandoned by the people I need the most. I see what I do because I understand.

And I want to give her that understanding that nobody gave me.

Maybe you should think about it. Why do you take it for granted that Andrew is a doormat who is strung along by Ashley? Why do you find it so odd when the trope of a woman corrupting a good man through leveraging sex is drawn into question? Why is Ashley seen as crazy, when all of her actions are so straightforward and rational? How is she corrupting him, when the single most needlessly violent act in the whole story- outside of the Nina flashback- is done without her influence? Why is Ashley seen as the abusive one when Andrew both threatens and resorts to physical violence and witholds emotional validation?

Weirdly personal tangent aside, Ashley and Andrew are two of the most well-written characters I have ever seen. They're not written like archetypes who interact with each other through a series of tropes; they're written like real people who's words and actions have astoundingly human motivations. They come from places that we can understand and relate to.

And just like people, they deserve respect. In spite of all they've done, they deserve love.

But make no mistake, Ashley is not the one stopping that love from happening. She just has the audacity to still want it in spite of everything telling her that she doesn't deserve it. We're led to believe she wants too much, but all she ever wanted was the bare minimum that she was never given.

And she has every right to be mad about it.

#andrew graves #ashley graves #the coffin of andy and leyley #tcoaal #tcoaal essay #gaming

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howaboutcastiel · 2 years

Text

Make Your Acquaintance (Jake Lockley)

Summary: Reader is in an established relationship with Steven and Marc but has never met Jake before and is intimidated by his reputation. When an emergency requires Jake to take control for a while, you decide that it's time to introduce yourself.

Make Your Acquaintance Masterlist

I know the gif is Poe Dameron don’t come for me.

Word count: 5.5k

Content: brief violence and gore, reader is injured (not life-threatening) angst, fluff, whatever. Poor use of Spanish. Gender neutral reader.

Note: I don’t know what this fic is. I don’t know who it’s for. I just kinda wrote it. Drink up boys. Also thank for 100 followers! I am not worthy!

You had only ever heard of the man through Marc and Steven’s descriptions. They did their best to spell out how he was important; how he was necessary to the survival of the whole system. Steven had explained to you that Jake Lockley operated on pure self-preservation instincts. He would only emerge when the body was in mortal danger and he would do whatever it took to extinguish that danger, no matter the cost. Marc had added that the boys don’t talk with him regularly. Jake preferred to keep to himself and, beyond coming to terms with sharing a body, Marc and Steven had let him.

Jake had never fronted in your presence. Your only image of him was the ruthless last resort for your boyfriends’ survival. In your mind, Jake was dangerous and unpredictable. Steven had assured you that he would never hurt you, but you were intimidated by his reputation nonetheless. All you knew was that when Jake appeared, people died. From your understanding, Jake didn’t really have a purpose beyond that. You were unsure if he was capable of anything besides his keen survival instincts. Was he capable of compassion, or laughter, or love? You didn’t really plan on finding out.

That is, until one night when you and Steven had booked a hotel room in the middle of Budapest. Marc and you had just finished a mission, and he had dipped out for a recharge while Steven made sure the body was well-fed and well-rested. The two of you were settled in the drabby hotel room, awaiting your flight back to London the next morning. Steven was cuddled up against your back, massaging your skin as a black-and-white movie played softly on the TV. You were holding an ice pack to your abdomen—you didn’t have a healing suit of armor like your partner. Steven was half asleep and you were contemplating turning off the telly when a loud crash came from across the room.

Steven jumped at the noise, up on his feet before you had time to turn your head. The window opposite your bed was shattered, the glass covering the floor in uneven shards. Two heavily armed men were attempting to breach your room through the opening. You couldn’t make out their faces, but you recognized their armor as identical to the men you had just finished fighting on your mission.

There was no reason for either of you to expect these invaders. Marc had been sure that all of the threats to your safety were subdued and he’d even made positive that no one had followed you to the hotel. Needless today, neither you nor Steven were prepared for the new danger in front of you.

“Get down!” Steven summoned his suit in an instant; maneuvering to block you from harm’s way as he didn’t have the protective cape that Marc normally wielded. You threw yourself down beside the bed, unable to do much else to defend yourself in your tired and injured state. Your own suit was across the room, hanging in the closet as you figured you wouldn’t be needing it tonight. As the men began to empty their guns of ammunition, sprinkling bullets all over the hotel wall, there was no way you would be able to reach your suit safely.

You had no choice but to stay still, listening as shots continued to fire from the men invading your room. You didn’t know how they’d gotten there, or if there were any more of them coming. All you knew was that your only line of defense right now was Steven. You could hear him wrestling with the men, grunting as he struggled to disarm them. He was technically outnumbered, but his protective suit and god-given super-strength gave him enough of an upper hand, you reckoned. Still, your heart was beating out of your chest as your fight-or-flight response pumped your body with adrenaline.

You recognized the clanking of plastic and metal as what could only be the sound of a gun being thrown. One down, you thought to yourself hopefully as the noise of combat continued. There was a pause in the gunfire, allowing you to peak above the mattress and evaluate the situation from more than just your ears. Your heart sank as you saw Steven struggling against the men. One of the intruders locked eyes with you and you gasped, sinking back down behind the bed.

Well fuck.

Footsteps approached you, followed by a yelp as you presumed Steven had pulled the man away from you. Desperate for some way to protect yourself, you lunged toward the closet containing your suit. No one seemed to notice your movement, caught up themselves in the battle at hand. You closed yourself into the tiny walk-in closet, hoping you would have just enough time to tug on your armor before either of the men came looking for you. As you pulled the fabric over your waist, the room outside fell completely silent. You felt your face and ears burning, knowing that silence was never a good sign. It lasted for only a moment. By the time you finished pulling your suit together, two muted thuds had shaken the floor of the room.

“Steven?” Slowly, you opened the door to the closet, flinching as it squeaked against the silence of the hotel room. The two men laid unresponsive across the floor. It took a moment for you to notice the blood pooling underneath them. Steven was facing away from you, breathing heavily and wielding what looked to you like a large shard of glass. He turned his head slightly in response to the creaking hinges, only enough for you to see the corner of his eye.

This was not Steven.

You glanced again at the bodies before you, now taking in their mangled forms. Their throats were slashed open, still lazily oozing blood though neither of them could possibly still be alive. More blood was dripping from your boyfriend’s hand. From his hand, but he wasn’t the man in this body right now.

Your brain scrambled for some rational response to what was happening, but your body was much farther ahead. You shut the door quickly and backed as far into the closet as you could, tripping against the wall behind you. You weren’t just scared of Jake Lockley. Subconsciously, you were absolutely mortified. Witnessing the unhinged, violent look in your partner’s eyes had completely paralyzed you with fear.

By this time your brain was starting to catch up. He’s not going to hurt you. You need to move. There’s too much evidence, too much noise. You need to leave now.

You got to your feet shakily, sucking in breaths to calm your body’s desperate survival response. Pushing the door open gently, you peered out to see Jake frantically trying to pack his essentials into his duffel. You made quick work of doing the same with your clothes. He skipped the small talk and introductions. There would be time for that later. Elsewhere.

“We need to go. Now.” His accent was distinct, North American. He didn’t sound at all like Marc or Steven, and he certainly did not hold himself like either of them. He stood with all the anguish of Marc, yet with all the energy of Steven. He was much more on-edge than both of them together, but his face was not riddled with the guilt or resignation that Marc normally wore post-battle. You studied his face as he shoved his belongings into the bag, lingering for only a moment so as to not waste any time. He was focused and wide-eyed, completely alien to any look you had seen on this face before.

You signaled to him that you were finished packing your things. Jake followed you to the door, throwing his duffel strap over his shoulder. You recoiled slightly as he placed his arm firmly around your waist, guiding you hastily through the halls of the hotel. Maybe he didn’t notice how much he scared you. Or maybe he just didn’t care. Still, you didn’t complain as he led you to the exit closest to your room. Right now you were just focused on getting away.

“How did they find us?” You asked, exasperated. It was unlikely that Jake even knew, but he seemed exceptionally confident in his movements right now, so you figured he might know something. You cowered as he broke the window of the nearest SUV, scrambling to hot-wire it before someone noticed the two of you here.

“¡Arranca, coche de mierda!” He spat at the wheel as you jumped into the passenger’s seat. Where the hell did the Spanish come from? He glanced at you, only now processing your question. “I don’t know. I don’t want to stick around to find out.”

The engine sputtered to life and he wasted no time backing out of the parking spot. He aimed to put as much distance between the two of you and the hotel as possible as you heard faint sirens approach in the background. The hotel wouldn’t be able to track your room reservation to either of you. In fact, you were confident that the ramshackle building didn’t even have security cameras.

Now that you could finally breathe a sigh of relief that you weren’t being followed, your attention turned back to the new occupant of the body sitting beside you in the driver’s seat. He was still mumbling expletives in Spanish, but his driving was surprisingly agile considering the speed he was going. By this time, the adrenaline had calmed enough that you were once again aware of the sharp pain in your belly. Steven had assured you that your ribs were only bruised, not broken. That didn’t mean that they wouldn’t hurt like hell nonetheless.

Jake glanced at you as you sucked in a labored breath, doing a double-take as he tried to remain focused on the road. His voice was awkwardly flat as he discreetly watched you grasp at your stomach.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, monotone. “Were you shot? Are you bleeding?”

“No, just bruised.” You responded. Your apprehension toward him was in no way remedied by his apparent disinterest in your wellbeing. It’s like he was checking a box by asking you about your injuries. Like it was just a formality that a random nurse or doctor might ask. He probably only asked at all because he knew how mad Steven and Marc would be if he didn’t.

You hoped that he would stop fronting soon. After all, you’d just seen him murder two men. Not that Marc or Steven had never killed anyone, but surely not so ruthlessly. You knew that this is what he was here for. This was his purpose. But now he had fulfilled it. It was time for Marc or Steven to take back over and do damage control. You hated sitting next to this stranger.

He still looked like them. Of course he did. But he was so much… darker. Jake held himself with self-assuredness, but it was borne out of a safety net of brute force. He looked like someone bound to snap at any moment; like someone who would likely enjoy it, too. You wondered if he did enjoy the ruthlessness that he exhibited. If that’s what set him apart from the other two.

“Stop staring at me like that, bicho raro” he said in the same flat voice. You hadn’t realized you were staring. You felt yourself blush at his words.

“Erm… are we going to talk about this?” You asked sheepishly. By now you were outside of the city center, heading God knows where and still going well over the speed limit.

“I’m just heading out of the city. We’ll go back to the airport at sun-up.”

“That’s not what I was talking about.”

Jake raised his eyebrow, peering at you with a patronizing glare. You wondered how much he knew about you; it couldn’t be much, could it? According to Marc, Jake wasn’t much for conversation. Unless he had been co-conscious a lot over the past few months, it was unlikely Jake knew much about you at all.

“What do you want me to do? Introduce myself?” You cowered at the way he scoffed out the words. He noticed this and furrowed his brows, turning back to stare at the road. “I don’t think now is the best time for that.”

You didn’t want to piss him off, but you also felt a tinge of need to pry for more information. If he wasn’t going to let Marc or Steven front, you were going to at least be on the same page.

“Do you at least know who I am?” You wanted to sound demanding, but your voice was wrecked with apprehension. He let out a sour laugh, tensing his grip on the wheel. His hands were still covered in blood.

“Of course. Just because you don’t see me doesn’t mean that I’m never there. I’ve seen you… through their eyes.” His voice was more expressive now, still matter-of-fact but less condescending.

“Marc says that you guys don’t talk much.” You winced again at the pain in your abdomen, clutching your waist with frustration. This time, Jake stared down at the wound for longer. He didn’t give off a look of concern, but he seemed to tense with you as you doubled over, bringing your knees to your chest.

“Let me look at that—” He took his right hand off of the wheel, reaching over to feel at your wound. Instinctively you flinched away, holding your hand up to swat his down. When your palm made contact with his, though, he took it into his grasp. The car slowed to what you assumed was the speed limit.

“You’re scared of me.” He breathed, a hint of a sigh in his voice. You couldn’t tell what it meant. You averted your gaze from him, not wanting to admit your fear no matter how evident it must be. You pulled your hand away from his.

“You don’t need to be scared of me.” He insisted, though you still didn’t meet his gaze. Jake pulled off of the main road onto an unlit gravel path. The vehicle slowed to a crawl. You heard the subtle knock of his hand returning to the wheel.

“Forgive me if I don’t take your word for it.” You mumbled. The headlights of the car illuminated what appeared to be an abandoned barn. Perfect to hide out in until morning, you thought. Jake pulled as far behind the building as the terrain would allow, careful to make sure that the car wasn’t visible from the road.

Jake offered to help you out of the car, but you just shook your head and held your breath as you stepped onto the grass. He pulled a flashlight out of his duffel, scoping out the inside of the barn before motioning for you to follow him. Now, he didn’t have a road to distract himself with. The cold air bit at your skin, the wind howling in your ears. Your suit might be protective against low-impact punches and slashes, but it sure as hell wasn’t insulated for the cold. You tried to hide your shivering from Jake, figuring he would just be annoyed at your further discomfort.

“Do you know where—I mean—why hasn’t Steven come back yet?” You asked, concealing the chatter of your teeth.

“I don’t know.” He muttered sincerely. You were taken aback by the genuine tone of his voice.

“Can I talk to him?” You just wanted your boyfriend. You wanted his familiar warmth. His accent, his affection, even his worry. You wanted the man you knew.

“I can’t just pull him forward on command.” Jake said, now noticing your pitiful reaction to the cold. He looked like he didn’t know what exactly to do. He just stood there, eyeing you up and down as you shivered and chattered your teeth. “Maybe we should get back in the car.”

By this time, most of your adrenaline had gone as your panic had run its course. You were still scared of the man before you, but he seemed to at least not want to do you any harm. Exhaustion was starting to creep over you, and you could feel your limbs growing weaker the longer you stood in the frigid air.

“Yeah, maybe we should.” You dug through the back seat as Jake opened the trunk, throwing out the belonging of the owner and laying the seats down to form a large, flat surface. You longed for Steven to come back to the front. Hell, if even Marc would come back. You simply did not want to share a bed with this dangerous stranger, no matter how familiar his face was.

You intended to sleep as far away from him as possible. When you crawled up into the makeshift bed, it became abundantly clear that your idea wasn’t going to work out. There was barely enough space for one person, let alone for two to lay with any room between them. You pressed your body as far to one side of the car as you could, turning so that you wouldn’t have to face him. The air was still for a moment and you glanced up, wondering what was keeping him from crawling up beside you.

“Aren’t you going to get in?” You pressed, huffing at his awkward stance outside of the passenger door. He replied to you almost out of boredom.

“You don’t want to share a bed with me, do you?” He stared at you with an expression you couldn’t make out.

“What, you think I’m gonna make you sleep outside?” Maybe you were wary of the man before you, but you knew that your boyfriend and partner were still in there. What if Steven woke up to find that you’d left him to sleep on the ground?

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done it. Probably won’t be the last, either.”

“Just shut up and get in.” Steven had been tasked with keeping the body safe and healthy. In his absence, you weren’t going to let Jake stay out and exposed to the elements. He begrudgingly crawled in beside you, careful not to touch you as he positioned himself to lay down. At least he was trying to be respectful.

It was bittersweet to smell the familiar scent of Steven’s shampoo as the man settled next to you. It automatically sent a wave of relief through you, though you knew it was just a Pavlovian response. Steven wasn’t here right now. There was barely an inch of space between you; you’d have to struggle to keep yourself from touching him. As exhaustion continued to take hold in your body, that struggle became less and less important.

You woke up to the sound of your alarm going off. 6:00. The sun was barely at the horizon. You quickly tapped the screen of your phone, snoozing the annoying blare of the chimes that you had chosen to wake you. It took several moments for you to process where you were.

His body was completely wrapped around you; arms around your waist, legs entangled with your own. Even his face was nestled comfortably into your neck. You breathed a slow, relieved sigh. Steven had come back to you after all. You listened to his quiet snoring, thankful for his body heat pressing against you. After a moment, you reached up to rub your eyes, causing him to stir from his slumber.

“Time to get up, bub,” you cooed. Steven shifted underneath you, whining against your movement. You heard him mumble something incoherent.

“What’s that?” You asked, trying to coax his hands off of you so that you could sit up, to no avail.

“Es tan suave y cálido aquí.” He repeated softly into your ear.

You froze.

Jake’s hands were still on you. His arms were still around you and his weight was pressing into you. You wanted to hate the feeling, to be sick with the revelation that he was so close to you as he still fronted. But you didn’t hate it. You couldn’t bring yourself to hate it.

He was holding you so tenderly, careful not to put weight on your bruised ribs. He clung to you as if he was starved for human touch. You supposed that he was, considering he usually only took the body long enough to murder someone before dipping out again. You could feel his breath on your neck, shallow and even as he fell back to sleep. You wondered how he could be so comfortable here.

Your flight wasn’t for another few hours. Still, you were unsure how last night’s events could affect your departure. As far as you knew, there were no witnesses to the fiasco at the hotel and, seeing as you’d paid cash for the room, no way to identify the two of you otherwise.

This wasn’t at all what you’d expected from Jake Lockley. Sure, the manslaughter was pretty on brand, but everything else? Did Steven and Marc fail to mention anything about Jake because they truly didn’t know? Or did they think that his personality was a trivial thing to reveal to you?

Now that you were awake, you could hear him softly humming to himself in his sleep. It was cute; it reminded you of the way Steven hummed when he cleaned. Of the way that Marc would sing in the shower. You relaxed into his touch, unwilling to admit that you felt comfortable there, but able to sink into his grasp nonetheless. Only when your alarm sounded a second time did the two of you properly stir.

He was off of you as soon as he became fully conscious. Jake backed as far as he could into the frame of the SUV, withdrawing his touch from all contact with your body. A look of concern grew upon his face, almost reminiscent of fear. Subtle guilt flooded his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted, running his hands through his hair, “I did not mean to do that.”

“It’s okay.” You heard yourself say before you could even think of how to respond. The best distraction you could think of was conveniently the next task at hand. You dug through your clothes for something to change into, still dressed in your suit as you couldn’t summon and shed it at will like your partner. Of all of the convenience covering your tracks, you figured wearing your armor to the airport might just be pushing your luck.

“Do you think they’ll stop us at the airport?” You pondered aloud. Jake turned to you in groggy contemplation. Even worse, you thought, what if more of those men are there waiting for us?

“I don’t think so,” he responded, “there’s no reason for them to find us suspicious. We’re just tourists, as far as airport security is concerned.”

“What about the car?” Surely the owner of the SUV would have noticed that it had been stolen by now.

“I don’t think that’s high on anyone’s priority list right now. I’ll just make sure not to get pulled over.”

Neither of you said much else as you made quick work of getting dressed and ready to leave. You were in slight disbelief at what you were experiencing. How was it so easy to plan a getaway with this stranger? You had expected him to be impossible to work with, that is when he wasn’t on a murderous rampage. But this man didn’t seem impossible at all. Not now, anyway, hours removed from slitting two men’s throats and now somehow calmly watching the sunrise over the city. He seemed tranquil, though still somewhat aloof, and surprisingly rational compared to his brutal facade.

You settled back into the passenger’s seat of the car. This time, Jake managed to start the car without riddling your ears with curses en español. At a normal speed, you’d have just under an hour’s drive back to the center of the city. Lots of time to make conversation. Now, your curiosity was certainly getting the best of you. You needed to know more about the cryptic Jake Lockley.

You waited until you were back on the main road to begin your interrogation. If you annoyed him just the right amount while you were stuck in the car together, you figured you could pull some answers out of him. It was a fine line, though, as you didn’t want to make him too angry. You inferred that you wouldn’t like him when he’s upset.

“I didn’t know you spoke Spanish.” You started. He said nothing in response. “I know that Steven doesn’t speak it. He’s learning French. I’ve heard Marc speak in Arabic.”

“I learned it from my mother.” He said, keeping his eyes on the road. His mother. No wonder neither of them had mentioned it before. Talking about Marc’s mother was generally off-limits for obvious reasons. You knew that she was Hispanic—Marc’s Latino heritage wasn’t from his dad. But you had never heard of her speaking Spanish, let alone teaching it to her son.

“Does that mean that Marc knows it too? I’ve never heard him speak Spanish before.”

“Dunno. You’ll have to ask him.” He seemed annoyed by your questions, just like you had expected. But there was something accompanying the irritation. A more vulnerable kind of discomfort. It kind of scared you.

“Why are you still fronting, Jake? I mean, I’ve heard that you normally don’t stick around this long.”

“I’m not doing it on purpose. The other two are…” he searched for the right word, “quiet.”

“Huh. Guess I’m stuck with you indefinitely, then.”

“Guess you are.”

There was silence as you searched for something else to ask. You were so curious about him, but it was such an odd way to get to know someone. You didn’t exactly suppose that small talk was the way to go. You racked your brain for how you would fill the time if Steven was here. What kind of trivial chat would you be making with him? While you were still searching for words, Jake took initiative to speak up, much to your surprise.

“How’s your stomach? You were looking pretty rough last night.” Was he genuinely concerned? Or was he as desperate to make conversation as you were?

“I’m fine.” You lied, “Doesn’t even hurt unless I move a lot. Or talk.”

“You must be in a lot of pain now then? Hmm?”

Was he… teasing you? You looked up to see a deadpan expression on his face. It surprised you that he even had a sense of humor. You felt kind of guilty that it surprised you, though. In fact, you were beginning to feel guilty about lots of your assumptions about him.

You studied his face again, for the first time in proper light and out of immediate danger. Of course he had the same features as the other two. The same curly, barely-kempt black hair. The same deep-brown eyes and dark circles underneath. The same round nose that you’d planted a thousand kisses on before. The same lips, soft and supple, partially ravaged by Steven’s bad habit of biting them when stressed.

Maybe he wasn’t so different from them. He wasn’t just someone to be feared.

“Do you want to listen to some music?” He asked, reaching to turn the dial on the radio. He was growing uncomfortable from the silence, you could tell. But you couldn’t let him off now, while you were on the edge of a revelation.

“I’d actually prefer the peace and quiet. Thanks.” You both knew the irony of your words. You had no intention of maintaining the awkward silence that filled the cab of the car.

“Marc says you don’t like to talk much. That’s why I thought you might not know a lot about me.”

“He’s right. I don’t talk to him often. I don’t really have much to say.” He paused for a moment, thinking. “That doesn’t mean I don’t listen.”

“Well what have you heard then? If you don’t mind me asking. About me, I mean. What do they say?”

He didn’t answer. You decided to press on. You were actually having a bit of fun now, oddly enough.

“Well, I can tell you what I know about you. At least from what I’ve heard from the boys. Steven talks about you with a lot of praise. He considers you an asset, I think. He says your top priority is to protect the system. To eliminate sources of harm, especially during an emergency.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“He told me that you have a lot of good survival instincts. He thinks that you operate on fight-or-flight most of the time. Marc tends to agree with him, but I don’t think he likes you as much. Steven’s always better at seeing the good in people, I guess. But I figure you’d know that, being stuck inside the same body with them and whatnot. You must know each other pretty well.”

He was growing impatient with your rambling. You didn’t stop.

“You don’t know each other that well, though, I would bet. I mean, You said you don’t even know if Marc can speak Spanish. How is that something you don’t know? And how Steven thinks you only think about survival. I know that’s not true. What, with the way you were holding me this morning. The poor bloke would be so jealous if he knew—”

“That was an accident.” He snapped, now entirely through with your long-winded speech. “And Steven only sees what he wants to see. They both only see what I let them.”

You were silent for a long while. The air was thick with impatience and you were scared to make another sound. You didn’t want to make him mad. Plus, you were taken by surprise at his reaction to your mention of your accidental cuddle session earlier this morning.

Finally, he spoke again. Calmly. Urgently.

“I know that you go on missions with Marc. I know you go out on dates with Steven. You think I wouldn’t notice another person living in our apartment? Sleeping in our bed? And Steven never shuts up about you. I couldn’t tune him out if I tried. My sweetheart, my darling, my love. He’s always rambling on, even when he can’t see you. I’ve seen you through his eyes a hundred times without ever fronting for a second.”

He spoke with the obvious intention of seeming annoyed, but you could see tinges of red creeping up across his cheeks.

“I would have introduced myself earlier, but it seemed pretty obvious that you didn’t want to meet me.”

It was true. You had been absolutely terrified of him. But you felt the need to reassure him otherwise. You wanted to tell him that was a lie, that you would have loved to meet him sooner. Knowing what you knew now, you wished that you had. But you both knew the truth of the matter.

“Well, I’m happy to meet you now. Or at least, not completely mortified at the thought.”

“I feel the same I guess. Pleasure to meet you, formally at least.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Jake Lockley.”

Update: part 2

#steven grant #moon knight #marc spector #oscar isaac #steven grant x reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight x you #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x you #masterlist #make your acquaintance

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teecupangel · 5 months

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Hello! I was just wondering if you've gotten any asks yet about Desmond being in the hunger games :0? Like whether he was transported there or something else :v

I don’t think I’ve ever had any asks for a Hunger Games AU. For this one, we can make Desmond be born in one of the other Districts and volunteers himself as tribute to keep one of the younger children safe. In this one, I suggest he be born as an orphan who takes younger orphans under his wings, teaching them to a bit of self defense and anything he can that won’t get the attention of the Capital’s goons.

He knows there’s something deeply wrong in this world he is reborn in and, given any other situations, he would have already started to make plans to rain hell on the people directly oppressing his district but he gets caught up in all the Hunger Games to save one of his fellow orphans.

If you want him to be caught up in the Hunger Games that Katniss was in, then I would suggest he be part of any of the District where the tributes died during the initial bloodbath in Cornucopia.

Desmond would probably feel sick about the whole ‘appealing to the audience’ and will be snidely making remarks about how disgusting they all are for watching all of these for entertainment, making him more or less a black sheep of the tributes that even his fellow tribute would try to shy away from.

Honestly? Putting Desmond who has the memories of 3 mentors and 1 grand master in a field filled with children?

Not a good deal.

He would never hurt innocent children and would even try to help them even though most of them (if not all of them) would doubt his sincerity. He would definitely go head to head with the Career pack and kick their asses but he wouldn’t kill them because they’re children and he knows that they were ‘conditioned’ to think of killing as normal but, at the same time, he would definitely make sure they would not be able to harm anybody else.

In all honesty, Desmond’s real enemy in the Hunger Games would be the Gamemakers and he’d definitely get into their bad side. The only reason why he doesn’t fall for their traps is because of his Eagle Vision.

If this does follow Katniss’ Hunger Games then Desmond would probably have a wary truce with Katniss (after saving Rue ofc) and there would be less death this time around with Desmond fucking the Gamemakers’ plan all the time, all the while goading the watchers to see how fucked up this is.

Honestly, at some point, Desmond is probably going to find a weak point in the location they’re in and exploit it, maybe even use the monsters they send out later in the game by having them attack the weak point and essentially jail breaking everyone out.

(Although, there’s probably some tributes who would talk about how this would only punish their districts and Desmond knows that they are holding their districts hostage so it’s really between two hard places)

Sidebar: Desmond would probably understand why District 13 is not ‘acting’ against the Capitol and he would probably side with the rebels but, at the same time, he would definitely not agree with a lot of the plans the rebels. This also has the side effect of the rebellion probably having Desmond as the symbol instead of Katniss (or maybe not, who knows)

#i kinda like the idea that katniss is still the symbol #with desmond being too much of a renegade #katniss symbolizes rebellion #desmond symbolizes chaos #everyone is afraid of desmond because it always looks like he knows more than he should #he has fans from the capitol though #who sees him as very ‘eccentric’ ‘unique’ and ‘rebellious’#assassin's creed #desmond miles #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #fic idea: hunger games #fic idea: crossover

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kkami-writes · 5 months

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hey guys!! long time no talk......here's a little life update!

so as you remember I got a job at the beginning of novemeber! while kinda stressful and hectic I really enjoyed working with the dogs and was happy even if i didn't have as much time for other things. December took a bit of a rough turn with seasonal depression and just feeling no motivation for really much of anything. For context for years I've never really had amazing birthdays, I've been disappointed, upset or just alone on my birthdays and I've long lost the excitement of my birthday. This year, I took a trip to Orange County/LA to visit family. We had planned on doing an escape room (something I've only done once but enjoyed but with my anxiety the thought of being locked in a room freaks me out). my cousins bf however booked a saw themed room. for those of you who don't know. I hate horror. ok, I digress. sometimes I can watch horror. but i mostly more enjoy horror video games but even then I do NOT play them for the most part. And if I do I usually have to take a break bc my anxiety spikes. In years I have gotten better at dealing with it, but in general horror movies specifically trigger me pretty badly. And prior to this, my anxiety had been out of control, constant anxiety and panic attacks that I didn't think I was even going to make it on my trip. So needless to say I was upset. Because I was looking forward to doing an escape room, I enjoy puzzles and thinking but that being said I would never ever do a horror themed escape room. I felt bad because I couldn't do it and they had already paid and it was about an hour before we had to leave. (thank god I asked what the theme of the room was before we got there). anyway, with all my emotions that I had been piling up in me, I just had a bad breakdown and cried. They all ended up going bc again, didn't want to waste money and I just wanted to be alone at that point anyway. Regardless, I still had a good time on the trip, "minor" bump aside. We went to little tokyo and I got to go to designer con for a bit. ALSO I love my cousins bf, he's a really nice guy. He did not know I don't do horror so it's not his fault. In his defense it was more supposed to be horror comedy / parody but I was already very highly anxious that even that would freak me out.

With my job, the original owners of the daycare had sold it, due to personal circumstances so we were getting a whole new owner. Except that a lot of us did not agree with things they were going to be adding or the way they interacted with the dogs. They have "nap time" which is literally just them crating all the dogs for almost 2 whole hours. Not all the dogs are crate trained and needless to say, did not enjoy it. When we tried it a few times it was just non stop barking for 2 hours. It was heartbreaking and sad. Literally everyone but two people have quit and decided they would not be working with these new people who clearly don't really care about the dogs. It's all about how to make the most money. The new owners don't even HAVE a dog. It's kinda crazy. So that being said...I have also decided to leave as I just don't feel comfortable there anymore. Which is heartbreaking because even though it's been two months, I've really bonded with these dogs and love them and it feels like I've left them to fend for themselves :/ anyway, I don't want to keep rambling on and on. but basically! i'm on the hunt for a new job and still struggling a bit with motivation and my mood, but i'm still hoping to return back to writing in january. I miss you guys a lot and have missed writing. I'm gonna answer all my asks soon. Thanks <3

#kaia talks #more like kaia rambles

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talaok · 2 years

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Is there something I can do?

Pairing: Wilhelm x fem!reader

warnings: kinda dubcon at the beginning, unprotected sex and swallowing you know what.

Summary: You greet a pissed-off Wilhelm as he returns from the Christmas holidays, but once he learns that Simon has gone on a date with someone else, he decides to use you as a way to get his mind off the fact.

a/n:is Wilhelm gay? yes, Am I just horny? Yes, Is this wrong on many levels? Yes But the fact remains that I have the ability to write and that means I can make anything I want come true. Basically, I am more powerful than god. DO NOT SPOILER SHIT. I AM AT 2X1

"Wilhelm" you greeted him with a big smile as he got out of the car. "y/n" he murmured with what was about 2% of the excitement you had shown, as you hugged him. His woody cologne momentarily hypnotized you. It was incredible how, even if he had probably never been worse than right now, he still managed to look and smell so put together. You knew he was gonna be in a shitty mood. The whole August thing had really made him go mad, which you totally understood, but every time he started talking about the plans he had in mind to make him pay you couldn't help but feel kind of scared. He wasn't just mad. He looked fucking homicidal. You had spent all the Christmas holidays trying to gently calm him down but he hadn't listened to you not one bit. It was like talking to a wall. A very pissed one. And you knew it wasn't just only that. the whole year had been a nightmare, first coming to Hillerska, then his brother, and then Simon. It had really been a lot, and as much as you wanted to be close to him and help him, you were starting to suspect it was impossible. "You changed your hair" you noticed, taking one of your hands out of your pocket to brush through them. The cold took you by surprise and you shuddered under your apparently not-heavy enough jacket. "Yup" Wilhelm said,uninpressed. You exhaled annoyedly at his mood as he nodded to his bodyguard to take his luggage inside. "help you unpack?" you offered, not wanting to give up just yet. You knew the old Wilhelm was there somewhere you just needed time and patience to find him. "sure" he shrugged as he set off towards the front door. You huffed as you started following him. The pebbles on the ground suddenly felt loud with your every step.

"so, how do you feel?" you tried breaking the ice as you sat on his bed. He looked at you and raised his eyebrows, perfectly capturing an -are you serious?- face. "Alright. Yeah, that was a stupid question" you raised your hand in defense "but I mean" you paused to think very thoroughly at your next words "maybe it's not gonna be that bad" you smiled shyly and he didn't even look at you as he took off his scarf and coat and hanged them. "August and Simon are just two people" you bit your lip "There's a hundred more in this school" you tilted your head to the side, trying to get even a glimpse of his expression as he gave you his back. "I think it's gonna be fine Wilhelm" you swallowed nervously. It was at moments like this that you realized you were talking to the heir to the Swedish crown. The same one that could have probably made you disappear with just a phone call. "I-I think you are gonna be fine" you started picking some skin from your fingers anxiously at his non-responsiveness. "Wilhelm?" you finally called him. no response. you frowned, as you called him again. You had seen him acting weird, sure, but this was new. "he's on a date" Wilhelm's voice fainter than a whisper finally gave some signs of life. Good, at least he wasn't dead. You imagined for a moment what the front page of the newspaper tomorrow would have looked like otherwise. "Hillerska student murders the Prince by giving him the dullest speech ever known to mankind" Yeah, no. That wouldn't have been good. "What?" you asked, confused. he turned around this time. And you immediately wished he hadn't. You had gotten the title wrong. It was the other way around. remember when you talked about him looking homicidal? This was it. You gulped as you felt your heart start beating approximately 100 times faster than any normal human being should. "He's on a date" a sinister and hysterical smile appeared on his face as he passed a hand through his hair. "he's on a fucking date" he scoffed incredulously. He started pacing across the room looking around like he had no idea where to point his sight at. "he's on a fucking date. With some fucking guy. and-and " he stopped. You doubted he knew what he wanted to say next. "He's on a date" He turned towards you. His mouth was wide open as ragged breaths came out of it. You could see in his eyes both the hurt and the anger. It was a weird mixture, one that on him looked absolutely terrifying. "I can't believe it" he finally spat out, seemingly having exhausted all of his energies. you had no idea what to say, but his eyes fixated on yours pressured you to find something, and quickly "I-I'm sorry Wilhelm" was all you could think of. He was still scrutinizing you, looking like he was expecting something more, so you obeyed."I-I'm really sorry" You looked around the room in search of some kind of answer as he started slowly walking towards you, examining you as if you were a target he had just acquired "Is there-is there something I can do?" you asked finally as a desperate last beach. He was now in front of you. You were looking up at him nervously. You had no idea what he was gonna do. the fire in his eyes suggested that he either was gonna throw you out, start crying, or just straight up murder you. None of those seemed like particularly good options, you felt. And none of those options he went for. You hadn't even registered him bending down when you felt his mouth on yours. What? He attacked your lips as he grasped your face harshly and infiltrated his tongue in your mouth as he pushed you onto the bed. His lips were chapped and the kiss was wet and messy and angry. His hold on your head was strong and you could feel all the pent-up frustration in him by the way he kept deepening the kiss, even when it was clear to you it was impossible to do so. he leaned away and you gasped for air as he looked at you with the same gaze from before. "Wilhelm" you whispered "What are you doing?" you asked genuinely. You knew he wasn't interested in you. You weren't stupid. This was him quite literally relieving some stress. He seemed to not even have heard you as he bent down to leave a trail of wet and hasty kisses on your neck. "Wilhelm" you called him again. "C'mon y/n, I need this" his strained voice vibrated against your throat. "Wilhelm" you murmured disapprovingly. "just let me fuck you" his hand found its way to your thighs, and you whimpered. "I just gotta take my mind off of it" he kissed you, but you were too occupied processing what he was saying that you didn't even reciprocate, letting him leave desperate kisses on your parted mouth. "You asked me what you could do" he breathed out as his hands found your underwear. "This is what I want" he toyed with the hem of your panties. you tried thinking of reasons why not to do this but were finding none. He was hot and smart and oh did I forget to mention? the fucking prince. It was a no-brainer. "C'mon I'm the fucking prince" he laughed bitterly, and you smiled. "Alright my prince" you looked at him he groaned as he immediately ripped your panties off. the cold air hitting your core causing you to bite your lip. He quickly undid his belt and pulled his pants down to his feet, not even taking them fully off before he let his cock spring free from his boxers. He grabbed your waist and moved you horizontally onto the bed. He bent down and kissed you again as he touched every single inch of your body. Your boobs, sides, cheeks, and thighs. He was everywhere. he then leaned away and took one last look at you before bringing one of his hands up, spitting on it with his royal mouth, before slapping it on your pussy, spreading his saliva all over your entrance. "stay still" he ordered as he positioned himself and pushed himself into you. "f-fuck" you moaned faintly as he groaned very loudly. He started bucking his hips into you, speeding up his pace as you started bouncing on his bead, producing loud creeks from the bed frames. He bit his lip as he admired you getting filled by him, moaning,whimpering and murmuring his name. Loving the feeling of his cock so deep inside you, filling you up perfectly and completely. "god Wilhelm" you cried out as he dragged you closer to him by the waist, making him enter you even more. "Sh-sh-sh" he shushed you, giving you a sloppy kiss " you gotta be quiet" he whispered, as he propped himself up with one elbow on each side of your face. You nodded incoherently as he smirked smugly. His pushes were hard and decisive and they were clearly only intended to pleasure him, hard and fast to just get him where he needed to be, making him momentarily forget what really was bothering him. You could feel his every breath on your mouth and you noticed once it started getting struggled, as his thrusts did the same. "F-fuck" he growled in pleasure as he pushed himself into you again and again until he knew he was on the verge of coming. "Open your mouth" he ordered, and you smiled shyly at the image in front of you. The prince of Sweden kindly asking you to open his mouth to finish inside it. What a world. he pulled out of you and got up on the side of the bed as you sat up towards him, your mouth wide open. "stick out your tongue," he commanded as he stroked himself, and you obviously did,and in just a few seconds were shot at with his warm fluid, cum that, since the prince apparently lacked aim, ended up basically on your whole face. You collected it all with your index finger, sucked it off, and let go of it with a loud pop. Wilhelm was looking at you amused, surprised, and proud at the same time, all while catching his breath. you smiled sheepishly "So did it work?" he chuckled " perfectly"

#wilhelm #wilhelm x reader #wilhelm young royals #young royals smut #Smut #prince wilhelm of sweden #young royals #Wilhelm x y/n #wilhelm smut #wilhelm fanfiction #wilhelm fanfic #Prince Wilhelm of Sweden smut #young royals fanfic #young royals fanfiction

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iwritenarrativesandstuff · 1 year

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You know, I was wondering this for months now. Considering Yosano’s painful backstory, how do you think she felt about dazai’s suicide mania. Seriously, it’s all he talks about.

This is really interesting anon. I'm not sure if they interact much to be honest. I'm trying hard to think of a moment they actually talk... well, we do know she's at the core of the plan to revive him if he ever does die, and she absolutely would've been a part of that discussion so I think it's a given that she's looking out for him at least a little, in her own way. I would say, given her reaction to Kajii's obsession with death and her typical blunt demeanor, she probably thinks Dazai's fixation on suicide is uh... pretty stupid. But at the same time, the life he's threatening there is his own, so I like to think there was some brief concern at the beginning.

See, I think for the very reasons I'd love to see them interact (history with Mori, unfortunate commonalities with Mori they probably don't like, similar defense mechanisms of projecting an image to avoid uncomfortable questions or people getting too close - one, mischievous and lazy, and the other, highly respected and slightly sadistic)... I think this is exactly why they probably don't.

See, I don't think Dazai knows Yosano's history. He doesn't have a way of knowing it, and it's kind of the Agency's best kept secret - Fukuzawa and Ranpo are the only ones who appear to know. However, Dazai's countenance is such that he immediately had Fukuzawa telling Kunikida to just shoot him if he proves to be a threat lmao, and given a lot else in the series, I just assume that to those who aren't Atsushi or random people who get the filter of dialed-up charm Dazai, that the man just gives off supremely bad vibes. I feel like, if anything, Yosano was probably on alert around him for a bit. Dazai operates a lot like Mori, after all, and I doubt that would've gotten past her.

Also their defense mechanisms are the same. Like. They actually have some really fascinating commonalities. I love the part where Yosano grabs Atsushi's leg to examine it in her first focal chapter. I know that sounds weird but, just look.

Up until this point, all we know about Yosano is that she takes no crap from stupid people (especially stupid guys), is a doctor whose methods are... questionable, and apparently everyone in the Agency respects her but is also terrified of her. But this scene shows us something else: she's incredibly analytical. Her medical knowledge allows her to tell how Atsushi's ability is working in an instant, but when asked about it, she goes back to "shame I couldn't treat you", which is more in line with her "terrifying doctor" image she's built up. She deflects anything other than this image, is what I'm trying to say. It reminds me a lot of when Dazai gets serious then flips it so it seems like the moment was just him being silly and goofy.

Anyways, their defense mechanisms are similar in that they both build up carefully crafted images to avoid questions and vulnerability - Yosano by making herself more threatening and Dazai by making himself less threatening - so yeah, I don't think any interactions would have them being anything but being super roundabout and cordially pleasant with each other (much as I think there is some mutual respect there between them... I love the bit where Yosano is about to go full feral on the guy who hurt the cafe owner and Dazai's full-on smirking about it like "ohoho you screwed up big time lol").

As for the whole suicide thing, I know it can be uncomfortable the way the Agency brushes off his attempts, but I honestly think that Dazai's attempts are not actually serious (I firmly believe he is not actively trying to die anymore, even if he is still passively suicidal and genuinely depressed - he does it because it's a part of his nonthreatening yet disconcerting image, and also because it's likely a habit at this point), and that they probably have tried to speak with him about it at one point but it didn't go anywhere (because Dazai would never have an honest conversation about something like that...) so they settled for making a plan in case something did end up happening to him. From the wording in 55 Minutes, I thought it seemed pretty strongly implied that this plan was created less out of the potential for Dazai getting hurt on a mission than in the case of if he should ever hurt himself.

See, what I'd be interested to know is if Dazai made the terrible error in judgement of attempting to flirt with Yosano on introduction. ...I bet that went well.

#i think this kind of semi-became the start of a yosano analysis... whoops #i hope this actually answered the ask #thanks for the ask!#bsd #bsd yosano #bsd dazai #i'm not tagging this with suicide mentions given that it's nothing that isn't shown in the series already (so I expect you're ok with it)#but if you want a tag to filter it out just let me know #storyrambles

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piffany666 · 4 months

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Ok just one more punk progeny won't hurt~

Chapter 6: the double standard

(Trans ftm Bright eyes - he/him pronouns)

TW this Chapter contains an accurate not so positive view of alexis, regardless of your opinion of alexis please don't send death threats to either me or my proofreader.

Bright had been staying in the solaire mansion for a while now, so he wouldn't refer to what he is doing as "moving in", no, more like.....unpacking.

But alas, that's what William called it. Moving in.

He hadn't told anyone else that he'd made his decision, William reassured him that he wouldn't have to and that he was planning on getting everyone together for a "family meeting".

Bright was clambering over the mass amount of boxes he had scattered around the room in an attempt to organise his things.

Tank had recently given him a bunch of their old things, clothes, CDs, DVDs, comics all that good shit.

But he only now decided to actually get out the stuff they gave him and place it around his room.

Mabye that was because it wasn't HIS room till recently.

Suddenly, while looking around for a spot to dump one of the empty boxes, there was a knock on his door.

Bright had always lived with other people, granted it was never for very long, but within all his years of living, not one of those people ever knocked before entering.

So Bright was, understandably, more than a little startled when he heard a knock on his door.

"W-whos there?!"

Despite Bright's defensive tone, William responded sweetly.

"It's just me, Bright eyes, may I come in?"

Bright relaxed at the sound of his voice.

"O-oh yeah sure just gimme a sec"

"Of course~"

He continued frantically looking for somewhere to put the box down.

Eventually he chucked it onto the bed and went to open the door.

William slithered into the room and closed the door behind him, but not all the way.

"Good evening Bright eyes, how are you settling in?"

Every time Bright heard William speak his guard went down, his defensive nature was challenged and he felt safe.

At first this scared Bright and while he still hadn't gotten used to it

He didn't mind as much now.

"Yeah, I'm just kinda trying to put my stuff away....I mean....yeah"

Bright sheepishly gestured to the colossal mess he'd made of his room.

Despite Bright's new found comfortiblity with William, he still didn't know exactly how to interact with him.

Bright's almost bashful nature made William smile as he held back a giggle.

"Well that's good"

There was a moment of silence between the two that felt.....awkward.

William coughed.

"Well I'm glad your settling in, but admittedly, I didn't just come in here to check on you"

Bright raised an eyebrow as he waited for him to continue.

"You know that later on tonight I plan on getting the whole clan together for a meeting, and that during that meeting I intend on informing them of....you, but until then I will be out for a meeting with a friend, I'll introduce you tonight, Vincent and his partner will be making preparations for the solstice and Fred, Sam and his mate are staying at their cabin

So what I'm trying to say is-"

"Ill be home alone for the day?"

William gave Bright a smile that looked almost....painful...?

Like he was being stabbed but didn't want to cause a scene.

"Weeelll...not exactly-"

At that moment, the door he had left partially ajar, swung open to reveal somone Bright had only heard cautionary tales of

Alexis.

Alexis was a tall, pale woman. Her hair covered one eye and had a gentle curl. The eye that reminded seen was sharp and silver, not unlike William's, however while his eyes shined with a warm comforting glow, her gase was cold and penetrating, as if looking at her was the equivalent of being stabbed with ice.

Bright felt several chills shoot through him. He felt like he was being tazered.

William sighed as his excruciating smile dropped.

"Bright, this is Alexis, you and her will be the only ones in the Manor tonight"

Bright's head turned towards William as he shot him a look of pleading confusion.

"Alexis, this is Bright eyes"

The eyebrow that was visible raised

"So THIS is Sam's little underling?"

She looked Bright up and down

"Yeah, that tracks"

Alexis didn't know about Bright being taken in by William, that snarky comment alone confirmed that, which did make Bright feel a little smug, but that didn't mean he appreciated the audacity of this b*tch.

He scowled at her

She scowled back

And for a moment the two just stood there unblinking, scowling at each other.

William was glad that no one present could mind read particularly well, as they would both be able to hear him breathe out the words

"Give me strength!...actually no, if whatever cosmic force that is out there gave me strength, these two would be dead......give me patience!"

He breathed in heavily as his smile from before returned to his face.

"Well I better be off! Please have the Manor still standing by the time I get back!"

Before Bright could protest he "woodshed" out the room.

And he was left alone.

With the woman who turned the man who turned the boy who turned him.

A convoluted and yet overly simplistic way to put it

But it wasn't an inaccurate description.

Luckily, Bright had years of experience dealing with snobby older sisters so he took a moment to compose himself after the initial shock of coming face to face with the resident solaire clan's scapegoat.

And simply said.

"Look, I have a lot of unpacking to do and you seem like you have better things to do than babysit me so why don't you get out of my room and go do whatever it is you do when left unsupervised?"

Alexis scoffed and folded her arms as she leaned against the door frame.

"I'm sorry, YOUR room? What? Is Sam's cabin not good enough for you kid?"

Every word she said felt like it was being spat out at Bright.

He smirked.

"Aww well I'm sure you'd love to have an open invitation there~ but I personally can't think of anything worse than being stuck in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with Sam and my maker, so I'm gonna stay here and unpack, thanks"

She looked flabbergasted that this kid she had only just met could muster up the courage to speak to her with such audacity.

But she wasn't about to let Sam's progeny get under her pearl-like skin.

So after what looked like her swallowing her rage, she brushed it off and retreated into the darkness of the hallway.

Bright chuckled softly to himself as he went back to his boxes.

She is certainly in for a suprise later tonight.

So will everyone else but Bright felt more smug about this one.

He didn't know anything about alexis, he could admit that.

All he knew was what she did, not who she was.

That and he knew what everyone thought of her.

Which prompted him to label her as the resident scapegoat.

Exept that's what HE had always been.....in every family he'd ever incorporated himself into, he was the scapegoat.

If he took that away from her when he became William's progeny.....what would she have left?

Or would she continue to play her part despite him?

If that would be the case then....what would he be?

These thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of.....music?

More specifically a piano, exept it was.....off

The tempo was too fast which caused the pianist to constantly slip up and hit the keys all at once in frustration.

While the Manor did give the impression that it was haunted, Bright could safely assume that the culprit for such musical crimes was alexis.

Part of him wanted to go downstairs to shut her up.

There was a lot of the Manor that he still hadn't seen anyway so this could be an opportunity for exploring.

But another part of him reminded him that his curios nature was what got him here in the first place....

Then he said "f*k it, you can't die twice!"

And went searching for the location of the instrument who's screams of pain echoed through the whole Manor.

While searching, he made a note of the decor that dawned the halls of the Manor.

It all looked....tacky but also in its own way decadent, as if the whole building was trying too hard NOT to look like a stereotypical vampire Manor.

Paintings, ornaments and various trinkets were dotted around in no particular order.

It was nice to look at, but it distracted Bright from his goal of finding the piano

And frankly he was getting sick of hearing the damn thing!

Or more accurately he was sick of hearing HER play it.

Eventually he finally found it.

The double doors were wide open, as if she wanted her music to reverberate throughout the whole Manor.

Bright stuck his head through the doorway and saw that not only was there a piano but also various instruments covered with white cloth and dust.

It was safe to assume that this was a music room.

Alexis still hadn't noticed Bright standing there in the doorway, gazing in awe at the room's beauty.

Bright decided to approach her, though she still remained engrossed in her frustrating attempt at playing.

Bright leaned against the piano as somthing dawned on him.

If alexis is supposed to be this big bad vampire then she must be like....SUPER OLD.

So how long had she been playing a song that she simply can't play?

He decided to find an answer to that question.

"How long have you been playing that thing?"

This sudden announcement of his arrival made alexis jump, which caused her to hit the keys with both hands again.

"God f*king damn it! What? What is it!? What do you want?!"

Once again she gave the impression that her words tasted bad and as such she wanted to spit them out.

But Bright was unfazed.

He just put himself back in the mindset of having an older sister.

"Didn't you hear me? I said 'HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN PLAYING THAT THING?"

She hardened her gase.

Before answering, she hesitated.

"More years than you've been alive, kid"

Bright scoffed and did his best to hold back a full belly laugh.

"Damn you've been playing this thing for YEARS and thats the best you can do? How much longer will it take for you to realise that mabye this just...isn't for you?"

Bright felt as if he was poking a bear.

She shot him a look of unbridled fury, the red tint of her eye located around her sharp iris grew as she rose from her chair, causing it to topple over.

"If you think you can do better than be my guest!"

Bright went in front of the piano nonchalantly and began to play the opening to "bat out of hell" a notoriously hard piano solo.

Alexis was flabbergasted and enraged.

Bright turned his head towards her once he had finished playing.

"You know....it really doesn't matter how long you play it for....its about the tempo, the skill and most importantly you have to actually enjoy playing it! I mean arnt you tried of playing this old thing and not getting any better at it? Are you playing it cos you enjoy it or cos you've been playing it for so long that you've forgotten how to play anything else?...."

He got no answer from this.

Consider this bear poked and pissed off.

Bright saw her face go dark and knew that he needed to get out of here as soon as possible.

Once one if his step sisters made the same face at him after he was caught reading her diary.

Bright still has the scar even after death.

"Weeeelll anyway I have some more unpacking to do so I better--!!"

Before he could get away, he was cut off by alexis pulling him back by his hair.

She spun around allowing herself to be infront of him as she pulled him down across the piano

Bright struggled but she was strong, very strong.

She had him pinned, the keys wincing in pain as his body slowly hit them as his head was pulled backwards.

"G-get of me!"

Alexis found herself almost pitting him.

"Shut up. I don't know what your....deal is, but for some reason William has taken a liking to you, despite you being Sam's progeny. I have an idea of what's going on but I really don't want to belive it. Now I sincerely hope that what I think is happening isn't happening. I mean why on earth would William want a washed up, snarky, bratty disrespectful little sh*t when he already has me and Vincent?"

Bright's face dropped into a scowl.

By this point he had stopped struggling.

"But in any case, if you are going to be William's next project then I guess we'll be seeing more of eachother, so tell me.....

What do you think of me? Your Sammy's progeny so I'm sure you've heard all about me hmm? I'm sure you think you've got me all figured out....well? Answer me"

Bright knew when it was his turn to talk.

But he took a moment to look her in the eye

Just to get used to the feeling.

Then he began.

"You know....maybe everything that everyone says about you is right

Mabye you are just a selfish b*tch that couldn't have what she wanted so she decided to take it

By force.

But if all that is true....then....then why dosnt everyone treat Freddy the way they treat you?"

Bright looked down as he said this, as if it actively hurt to say while looking her in the eyes.

Alexis was confused upon hearing this.......then she understood.

Once she did, she loosened her grip on him and backed away, allowing him to get up from the piano.

She studied his face for a moment then her expression hardened.

"Listen to me kid. I did what I did to Sam because I wanted him. It's up to you to decide wether or not the way I get treated around here as a result of that is fair.

But what Freddy did to you wasn't out of malice or selfishness.

It was out of fear.

Because you where, and now will always be, a couple of scared kids who had no idea what they where doing"

Bright couldn't tell if this was supposed to be words of comfort or torment.

Either way he didn't agree with her.

So ge continued to scowl at her.

"I do think the way you're treated is fair. What isn't fair is that if turning without consent is supposed to be this big taboo then why isn't Fred treated the same way you are!?.....what's with the double standard huh?"

Alexis looked bored and fed up with whatever this conversation was.

She had said her piece.

So she left.

Bright was alone in the dusty, dark music room.

He went over to the white sheets and whipped them off, each revealing a new instrument.

One of them was a slightly piano.

It was white as opposed to the burgundy one alexis seemed to obess over.

He smiled softly, then went back over to the piano stool to pick it up.

He dragged it over to the slightly larger white piano and once he was sat down he began to play.

The sound reverberated through the Manor just as it did before.

Exept the music was less harsh and more melancholy and oddly comforting.

Alexis heard it.

Her face sofend for a moment.

Then she shook it off.

Taggs: @darlin-collins @anexistingexistence @you-think-i-care-mate

#alexis apologists please dont interact #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted bright eyes #redacted william #redacted alexis #ok just one more punk progeny won't hurt~

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ginarickys · 11 months

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the early reception of hsmtmts season 4, or what we’ve seen of it so far, has been majorly positive. there have been a lot of negative comments too and while everybody is completely within their rights to criticize/discourse over media, the extent that some “fans” have been going to (mostly bitter portw*lls) is just borderline malignant and i’d like to address some of these reoccurring complaints.

as it relates to ej caswell, he is NOT a punching bag. i’ve seen so many people argue that they’re no longer supporting or watching the show because of its treatment of ej and i’m not mentioning this to attempt to police what people should or shouldn’t support, i’m mentioning this because the arguments i’ve seen for this point are laughably vain, as well as hostile towards every other character who isn’t him.

ej is not some victim of bullying by the hands of the writers. every character in hsmtmts has struggled. every character has had to endure some level of change, because it was necessary for them grow. every character has been penalized for trying to revert back to the things that actively regressed them. rini, that was shown to hold both ricky and nini back, didn’t stick for that exact reason. ej hasn’t gotten it worse simply because the writers wanted him to.

his “character arc” was learning not to give people food poisoning. his “struggle” in season one was losing followers because of a poor decision that he consciously made.

and of course, i couldn’t tackle this entire ej discussion without mentioning the whole “ricky stole his girlfriends” card that people are still playing. nini and gina were not THINGS to be stolen. both of them made the choice to break up with ej for reasons that were completely valid, because people who’re capable of thinking for themselves can do things like that. portw*lls and ej fans have a pattern of degrading gina especially, all because she didn’t allow herself to stay in a relationship that was making her unhappy.

you guys cannot stand that ej doesn’t get to own who he dates. it’s beyond telling.

as it relates to fan service, the people claiming hsmtmts sacrificed “realism” to cater to fans being anti rinas doesn’t surprise me. the disney show is the one you guys are cracking down on about realism, okay.

rina isn’t fan service. gina getting the lead isn’t fan service. those are things that make complete sense within the contextualization of the show, which you guys always choose to ignore. these are things that have been built up through parallel storytelling and through multiple accounts of foreshadowing, but i understand those who are saying these things are happening because the show needs “saving” with olivia gone wouldn’t perceive it that way.

i’m not calling anyone simple minded. but what’s the real reason gina shouldn’t be the lead? what’s the real reason ricky shouldn’t be with a girl who understands him, supports him, and provided the positive change that he needed at a low point in his life? why shouldn’t these characters be happy with each other?

ricky and gina are the truest to themselves when they’re together. ricky sees gina’s ambition, he sees her talent, and he praises her for that. gina sees ricky for all of his potential. she never actively tore him down, she never ridiculed him. was there a point where she set boundaries between them? sure, but they came out on the other side of it the strongest they’ve ever been. certain characters exiting the narrative doesn’t mean that the other characters stop growing or developing, the story doesn’t suffer just because your ship isn’t endgame, or because your favorite character isn’t always happy.

finally, in defense of ricky bowen, he’s had more than enough growth to beat the regression allegations.

just to reiterate, gina wasn’t property for him to claim. gina is the one who told him that he’s been her choice for some time, despite not being her plan, he was still the one she was choosing. ricky didn’t coerce her into saying that. he wasn’t pulling strings or feeding gina lies so that she would break up with ej, either.

ricky has been battling with change and defining himself since the very beginning of the show. over the course of three seasons, we watched ricky genuinely commit to theater. he came to camp to be with his friends, not to sweep gina off of her feet. even with people calling him unreliable, even after being told that he has “no profitable skills”, even after having some bumps in the road. ricky has done nice things for his friends without expecting anything in return.

after being defined by his slip-ups, more or less, ricky finally got to hear that he was a yes to someone. a shot worth taking. i’ve seen people complain that he’s the main reason that they’ve given up on the show, as well as claim that he gets everything handed to him. he had to make sacrifices and lose things to get to where he is. there’s quite literally no denying that.

this has gotten entirely too long, but i’m trying to illustrate that a lot of these story beats are obvious. no one is obligated to watch something that they don’t like, but i’ve seen former “fans” act horrifically racist and sexist, i’ve seen them discredit the cast, i’ve seen them complain about the attention season 3 gave to anxiety and sexuality, just because they weren’t happy nini left the show, and because portw*ll wasn’t together by the end of the season.

this is a disney show at the end of the day, try and relax.

#hsmtmts #ricky bowen #gina porter #rina #hsmtmts season 3 #hsmtmts season 4 #ricky x gina #i won’t be tagging any ships or characters i was more critical of

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anonymityisfunwriter · 2 years

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Two Sides of The Same Coin - Chapter 3: "Ready For It?"

"Let the games begin..."

“Face it, Bucky." Sam smugly smiles. "You’ve met your match.”

And with Sam’s words ringing in his ears, for the next two months, Bucky spends every single moment he's with you and Sam trying to prove Sam wrong. Trying to prove that throughout all the missions, all the triumphs, and times you’ve saved each other’s lives, that he’s not attached.

Every mission he keeps his distance, pretending he’s not looking at you. When you do catch him looking, all you see is a scowl. And still you only offer him a kind smile in return. It only annoys him that much more.

And yet, he can’t bring himself to tell Sam he’s done sneaking off the compound for these secret missions.

Tonight is a special kind of mission, at least according to Sam. All he told Bucky was that he needed to wear something a little nicer than normal.

“Is she going to wear her lucky yellow shirt again?” Bucky sneers, sitting on the couch as the two of them wait for you to leave your room. Both Sam and Bucky are dressed in their nightclub appropriate attire with the plan of attack for the evening already prepared.

“Don’t worry, I got her something appropriate.”

“You went shopping?” Bucky snickers.

Sam rolls his eyes. “No, I asked Nat to borrow something.”

“I thought they didn’t know about her.”

“They don’t. Unless you told someone something?” Sam probes.

“I haven’t said a word.”

Sam stops for a moment, confusion appearing on his expression. “Now that I think about it, I don’t know what’s worse: that I had to ask Nat for a dress without telling her what for or the fact that she didn’t even question it.”

“It’s Nat, she probably knows,” Bucky reconciles.

“I don’t know,” Sam mutters. “Fury was pretty top-secret about this whole thing.”

“Speaking of, when are you going to introduce her? I don’t want the team to think we’re friends or anything.”

“The words you say hurt. They hurt, Bucky,” Sam remarks, clutching his chest.

Now Bucky's the one rolling his eyes to dismiss Sam. “Yeah, whatever, anytime soon?”

“I’m not sure. Soon, but not too soon.”

“That couldn’t have been more unhelpful.”

“I’m sorry, do you have a handbook on how to properly integrate a person who didn’t get to see the light of day for the entirety of her life?” Sam sarcastically asks.

Bucky pauses for a moment, a little shocked at Sam’s slip up. That’s more information than he’s gotten out of either of you in the last two months. He wants more than anything to just outright ask, but he stops himself, not wanting to give Sam any more reason to think that he’s all that interested, so instead he says, “Steve and I did it well enough.”

“That’s not the same and you know it,” Sam points out, his tone becoming slightly more defensive.

“How is it not the same?”

“You both got a ‘before’, she doesn’t have that, no frame of reference, no family, no childhood, nothing.”

“You make it sound like Steve and I are lucky.”

“I’m not going to compare and contrast trauma. I’m just stating facts,” Sam shrugs. “Can you stop being so hostile and just admit that she’s wearing you down?”

“Wearing me down? Sam, honestly,” Bucky scoffs, side-eyeing Sam.

“Fine, don’t admit it, but I know there’s a reason you’re hard on her. You wouldn’t be if you didn’t care.”

“Let me get this straight, first you think that we’re ‘two sides of the same coin’, that I somehow became attached to her after one mission, and now you think that I’m hard on her because I care? Do you ever think that maybe, I don’t know, she bothers me?”

“Deny it then. Say it. Say that you don’t care.”

“I-” But he stops, the lie tasting foul in his mouth, his traitorous brain refusing to form the words.

“That’s what I thought,” Sam huffs triumphantly.

“Shut up. That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Sure it doesn’t,” Sam says, his voice dripping in sarcasm.

“Sam,” you call from your room, interrupting their conversation. “Is the person you borrowed this dress from shorter than me or something?”

“No,” he calls, still eyeing Bucky. “Why?”

“It’s just a little shorter than I’m used to. That’s all.”

“How short?”

“Uh…short.”

“Nat’s not taller than her, right?” Sam whispers to Bucky.

Bucky shrugs. “Don’t know.”

“Put your arms to your side," Sam instructs you. "Does it pass your fingertips?”

“Yes,” you respond.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Sam replies.

“Alright!”

The two men stand as they hear your door open. Even with his enhanced hearing, Bucky doesn’t hear you as you make your way down the hall to the living room. But he is the first one that sees you as you round the corner. You’re wearing a simple little black dress paired with some flats. You’d spent quite some time watching tutorials online to fix your hair along with some simple makeup, and it was safe to say that you’d completely impressed both men.

“Wow,” Sam exclaims. “You look…”

“Gorgeous,” Bucky quietly finishes for him.

“What?” you ask, not quite hearing him.

Bucky clears his throat. “I said, you look fine.”

“Oh,” you slightly frown. “Thank you.”

“You are so rude,” Sam quietly scolds him.

“Can we just go?” Bucky groans.

“Yes!” you exclaim. “I’m very excited, I’ve never been in a nightclub before.”

“Do you need us to walk you through the plan again?” Sam asks.

“No,” you sigh, pulling on your jacket. “You got a tip about a bad guy wanting to buy something from another bad guy. We’re going to stop them. You’re going after bad guy 1 and James is going after bad guy 2, I’m the backup. As always.”

“You're not always the back up,” Sam corrects. “Besides, tonight should be an easy night."

"You know whenever you say that it never turns out to be an easy night," Bucky points out.

Sam continues, acting as if he hadn't heard Bucky, "And don’t drink anything anyone hands you, anything you didn’t see poured- you know what, just don’t drink anything at all.”

“And don’t drink anything,” you repeat, playfully rolling your eyes.

“Then let’s go.”

And then you all found yourself in your positions inside the nightclub, Bucky inside, Sam in the back, hoping to intercept the vials, and you at the edge of the dance floor- the backup that they didn't need. Sam was right, you weren't always the backup, but Bucky was always looking for ways to push you out of missions. You were never the first one in, you never went alone, in fact, he always made up some excuse about why you weren't allowed to do anything, even if it meant that he had to do way more work to compensate.

“They’re both here. It’s too late, deal’s probably done,” Sam announces over the comms. You sigh still standing awkwardly as the music thumped in the club, drunk people dancing all around you.

“Shit,” Bucky hisses.

You turn around to leave when you catch a familiar face in the corner of your eye and do a double take, and lo and behold, the buyer was still at the club. You take a few steps closer to the section, squinting and craning your neck to make sure that it was the same man as the one in the pictures Sam showed you earlier. Even over the dark atmosphere and flashing lights, you're sure it's him. “Guys, bad guy #2- eh, the buyer he’s still here. What do I do?”

“Walk away,” Bucky orders.

“But if he's here, then that means the vials might still be here. I can stall him and you two can go and get the vials back.”

“And what about you?” Bucky snarls.

“I can take care of myself, James,” you insist.

“Get out of there. Right now,” Bucky seethes.

“Too late,” you quip, smiling at the man and padding over to the booth where he was sitting with quite a few other woman.

“Sam…” Bucky warns.

“Bucky’s right. Get out of there.” But all their warnings go unanswered, until they hear a faint male voice in the background of your comms.

"Hi." They hear you greet the man.

“Damn it. Do you have eyes on her?” Bucky asks, frantically making his way over to where he'd left you.

“No, you go find her. I’m going around the building, maybe we’ll catch a lucky break.”

When he finally gets a visual on you, it drives him absolutely insane. You’re leaning into the sleazy man, trying to laugh off just how uncomfortably forward he’s being. The glass shatters in Bucky’s hand when he sees the man lay his hand a little too high up on your thigh.

“Stop clenching your jaw, Bucky, you’ll break your teeth,” Sam chuckles, though they can’t see each other from their respective positions, Sam can picture the face Bucky’s making right now: his eyes narrowed, a deep scowl, the muscle in his jaw twitching, not to mention the fact that he heard the glass Bucky shattered in his hand.

“Shut up, Sam,” Bucky grits, ignoring the way the people around him are staring at him.

“I got the briefcase, we should get out of here before they notice.”

The man’s grip on your thigh tightens as Sam speaks, “A SHIELD agent, right under my nose.”

You chuckle uncomfortably. “Me? SHIELD?”

“How many are here? There’s the man in the leather jacket that hasn’t taken his eyes off you, your boyfriend perhaps?” he whispers in your ear.

“He’s noticed,” Bucky snarls, storming through the dance floor to get to you.

“Uh, I have to go,” you awkwardly state.

The man’s hand wraps around your wrist, his vice-like grip tightening even more. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Oh! Look over there,” you exclaim, pointing with your other hand in the other direction.

“Do you honestly think that would work?” the man sneers, flexing his grip around your wrist again.

“Um…ow,” you enunciate, eyes flickering to the his grip on your wrist.

“Oh my God,” one of the other patrons in the booth exclaimed. “Fire! Fire!”

Bad Guy #2 finally looks over, releasing your wrist in shock. You’d meant it to be a small fire, nothing major, but apparently Sam was onto something when he told you to limit the use of your powers in public.

Because apparently those gaudy drapes behind the booth were very flammable.

You bolt the second the attention isn’t on you anymore, right into a furious Bucky. He glowers at you, but wastes no time in grabbing your other arm and dragging you out of the club. He holds on tightly as the fire alarms go off and the unruly crowds begin to scurry out of the club.

It isn’t until you’re out of the club, reunited with Sam that you wrench your arm out of Bucky’s grip. The three of you stand far enough away from the club that you’re no longer in sight, but close enough to watch the absolute chaos that you caused. “Can you stop treating me like I’m a baby? I can take care of myself. Sam, can you please tell him that I was fine?”

“Really?” Bucky scoffs, eyes wild with anger. You'd actually never seen Bucky like this- normally his anger was cold, distant. At it's worst, some snarky remarks and criticism, but he'd never had this emotional, fiery rage-filled look in his eye. “Because it looked like you were about 30 seconds about getting thrown into the back of that guy’s car, never to be seen again.”

“I had it under control,” you seethe, taking another step toward Bucky- this time refusing to back down and deescalate the situation.

“Maybe if you weren’t too busy flirting with the guy, you’d have seen that you didn’t!”

“I wasn’t flirting, I was being nice! And we got the stupid vials, didn’t we?”

“What the hell are you trying to prove, huh?” he glowers.

“I’m not trying to prove anything,” you fume.

“Didn’t seem like that to me! Seems like you’re so interested in playing the hero that you’re willing to recklessly endanger your own life.”

“I was doing what either one of you would have done,” you snap, finally fed up with the way Bucky had been treating you.

“Sam?” Bucky urges.

“Oh, are you two done?” Sam absently asks. “It’s not like we have a mission to finish or anything.”

“You really have nothing to say?” Bucky growls.

“Yes, I do actually: Pot meet kettle,” Sam remarks, gesturing between the two of you.

“That’s not funny,” Bucky snarks.

“I’m not laughing. You two can fight it out all you want- tomorrow. But I’m tired and the stupid briefcase still needs to be dropped off.”

So the three of you get in the car, the tension palpable as you drive the drop-off location.

“You two stay,” Sam orders as he steps out of the car. “And don’t kill each other.”

“I had it under control,” you murmur, staring out the window of the front passenger seat. “It was fine. And we got the vials back anyway.”

“At what cost?” Bucky grumbles, noting the way you're clutching your clearly injured wrist. “What cost are you willing to pay for one insignificant mission?”

“Why do you even care?” you quietly counter, still staring out the window.

“What?” Bucky asks, slightly dumbfounded.

“Why do you care so much?” you repeat. “I don't know what I did to make you hate me so much, but I do I know what you think of me, James. I’m not dumb, I know you don’t want me around. And as much as I don’t like that, I try to respect it.”

"I don't hate you."

"You certainly don't like me," you quietly chuckle.

"I'm just not a people person."

"I know. And that's why I try to give you your space, I'm not trying to force you to be my friend."

"You want to be my friend?"

You chortle, finally turning to look at Bucky who’s sitting in the backseat. “Of course I do. I like you, I trust you.”

“You do?” he asks lamely. It didn't make sense, he hadn't made a single attempt to be nice, even cordial to you and you still trusted him. You still wanted to be his friend- it didn't make sense to him. “But I’ve been asshole this entire time.”

“You have," you agree. "So why don't we start over... Friends?”

“Friends,” he begrudgingly replies. “I guess.”

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"Two Sides Of The Same Coin" Chapter List AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

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fluffypurpleglitterdemon · 21 days

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Ever since I learned that Xie Lian saved tiny child Qi Rong and defended him from bullies and that's where the little Qi Rong hero worship comes from I've been quietly losing it because it's just similar enough to Hua Cheng that he would hate it! There's quite a lot of differences, starting with the fact that Qi Rong did have other people (like Xie Lian's mom) and that his mom was able to leave her abusive husband before dying and go somewhere else where she had some support even if she still wasn't treated that great for a noble lady and that he was still a prince surrounded by riches and waited on by servants even if he was an outcast and laughingstock around his peers, and then even in terms of their choices after there's the fact that Qi Rong might say his violent behavior was defending Xie Lian but he barely listened to what Xie Lian wanted (Hua Cheng has also done bloody vengeance in defense of Xie Lian - 33 destroyed gods, 800 years of menacing and harassing fengqing - but now that Xie Lian is here to make these choices he isn't hurting people Xie Lian doesn't want hurt, even if they hurt Xie Lian terribly) and also there's the difference between "challenged 33 heavenly officials who actually physically hurt Xie Lian to a fight and then made them hold up their end of the agreement" and "tracked down and beat up the child Xie Lian went out of his way to save because saving them got Xie Lian in trouble" or " threw things at Xie Lian's shidi/servant for temporarily upstaging him at the performance they both planned out and worked on together". Most importantly is that Hua Cheng doesn't have Xie Lian up on a pedestal (at least, not one he can fall from), he doesn't have a perfect idealized version of him in his head, he's not getting disillusioned with differences between his idea of Xie Lian and the real thing - like Qi Rong was, and like he did, and that led to more and more fights between Qi Rong and Xie Lian until (presumably, I haven't actually gotten there yet) Qi Rong was disappointed with the reality of Xie Lian and the temple burning and kneeling statues and such came of it. (Somewhere in the first arc Xie Lian says something about that to Hua Cheng, about not having that level of devotion for someone you actually interact with because you might find out they were different than you thought, and I wonder if he might have said that thinking of Qi Rong specifically as much as the worshippers of Xianle as a whole.)

So it's not a perfect Dark Mirror situation, there's quite a lot of differences, but there's enough similarities it's pinging my parallel detectors... I think there's enough room to make a comparison there, or to call attention to some of those similarities, and that Hua Cheng would viscerally and immediately hate it if such a comparison was made. I can imagine and wonder about a situation where Qi Rong got de-aged, or hit by some amnesia curse or memory-stealer, or some other nonsense that'd lead to a Little Qi Rong running around, and wonder if that Qi Rong would look at Hua Cheng and approve xD Would he see Hua Cheng's devotion to Xie Lian and go "Ah yes, that's an appropriate way to act around Cousin Crown Prince! Finally someone else who's a normal amount of angry when Cousin Crown Prince is insulted!"? Hua Cheng would despise just absolutely all of that xD

#Me Talking #tian guan ci fu #heaven official's blessing #TGCF liveblogging #is this liveblogging or is it more something else? I dunno I'll just put it in the tag for convenience #It's at least a little bit plot bunnying. Are there Qi Rong amnesia/de-aging fics?#I have not checked yet but the idea has seized me and now I think that there should be #It would be just. Such a weird and uncomfortable and awkward situation. For absolutely everyone #Having to take care of Baby Qi Rong! Would be such a mess!#No one is having a good time except *possibly* Qi Rong and maybe not even him #Ugh. Do I have to figure out how to write Qi Rong to put my money where my mouth is that this should be a thing?

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demondwellersword · 1 year

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a (seemingly) impossible task.

seto kaiba x gn!reader

warnings: n/a (if the fact that it’s ridiculously self indulgent counts, then that)

notes: i’m really slow to learn card games (i still have no idea how i finally got magic the gathering), so since i started watching yugioh i’ve been thinking about just how frustrating it’d be for kaiba to teach me duel monsters….enjoy!

Kaiba didn’t know how much more of this he could take. The second you’d expressed interest in finally learning how to play Duel Monsters he’d pulled out all the stops—the best duel disk KaibaCorp had to offer, a deck he’d specially built to play to your strengths, and hours set aside out of his busy schedule to practice dueling with you.

But none of it seemed to work.

You’d gotten basics like life points and the setup of the board right, but you still seemed stuck at how and when to play the right cards. You had only just gotten the hang of setting cards in their defense and attack positions, and you were slowly beginning to understand how to set traps.

It seemed only half the questions Kaiba answered for you actually taught you anything, and he was getting desperate. While you occupied yourself with a practice match with Mokuba he snuck out, finding himself standing on quite the unlikely doorstep.

“Oh! Kaiba! What brings you to the game shop?” Yugi waved Kaiba in, the bell jingling as the door shut behind them.

“I can’t take this anymore, Yugi. (Name) hasn’t seemed to progress any further in their lessons.”

“Well Kaiba, how have you been explaining it to them?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Maybe the way they learn is just different from the way you do. I know that when my grandpa was teaching Joey how to play he had to do it in a completely different way than how he taught me. Have you tried telling them about the game with a different wording, maybe?”

Kaiba gave him an incredulous look. “Are you trying to imply that I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“No, no!” Yugi waved his hands. “I would never! I just wonder if maybe they’re having trouble with a certain aspect of the game or something like that….”

Kaiba stopped for a moment, turned, and thought to himself; you had been asking a lot of questions about timing, but he swore he’d done a satisfactory job of explaining it all. Much better than Yugi’s whole “heart of the cards” spiel. He’d answered every question you had about setting traps, but you kept forgetting to lay them in response to what he’d played. It seemed you’d understood it better when he showed you, but he couldn’t just stop in the middle of a duel to explain cards to you. Maybe if he led you through a practice duel against Mokuba….

“I’ll have to devote more hours to teaching them, that’s the key to all of this. I’ll have to orchestrate some sort of day-long duel…..work in as many practice matches as I can. Expect one of my associates to deliver you and those little friends of yours invitations soon. Yes….this will work perfectly!”

“But Kaiba if you just try explaining it to them in a different way first maybe you won’t have to—“

Kaiba spun around, narrowing his eyes at Yugi. “No! I never needed any help, much less from the likes of you. By the time I’m done they’ll be a far better duelist than you could ever dream of being!”

Kaiba proudly strode out of the game shop, leaving an utterly confused Yugi in his wake. As soon as he was back in his office he disappeared to make a barrage of phone calls, working late into the night to set up KaibaCorp’s first Duel-A-Thon.

When the day finally came Kaiba could feel a strange sense of excitement bubbling up inside him. He’d forced every single employee of KaibaCorp to take a vow of silence—anyone who spoke a word of his plans to or around you would be fired on the spot. You remained none the wiser, simply confused as to why Kaiba was suddenly so busy.

He always told you when he had important meetings coming up, and as your relationship had grown more serious he worked in ways to take you along on every business trip he could. When you asked if there was anything you could do to help he simply waved you off and told you not to worry about it, sending you off to do busy work while he worked on whatever it was that he was doing.

“Come on (Name). I don’t want you getting lost.”

“Kaiba where are we?” You groaned, looking around at the forested trail you’d been hiking along for the last 15 minutes.

“You’ll see soon enough. You brought your deck like I asked you, right?”

You jogged to catch up to Kaiba, pulling your deck out of one of the pockets in your backpack. “Yeah, but I don’t know why you told me to bring it on a hike. What, are we gonna duel in the woods or someth—“

You looked up to see a wide clearing full of food stalls and mini arenas, all filled with faces both familiar and foreign. There were people dueling throughout the space, and it seemed as if the stakes were either low or nonexistent. You turned to look at Kaiba, heart fluttering at the sight of the proud smirk on his face.

“What is all of this?” You breathed, awestruck by the sheer size of the gathering in front of you.

“After giving it some thought I realized perhaps I wasn’t doing as thorough a job as I had intended teaching you how to play Duel Monsters. So I set up a day-long event in order to teach you more about playing the game. I’ll be personally coaching you through every duel, so you don’t have to worry about being at a disadvantage because you’re new to the game.”

You smiled sweetly at Kaiba, pressing a kiss into his cheek. You loved seeing the way he still blushed at even the smallest of romantic gestures, never quite growing used to how affectionate you were compared to him. “Thank you, Kaiba. I can’t wait to start dueling everyone!”

He smiled back at you. “I have no doubt in my mind that you’ll be able to become a fine duelist, (Name). When we’re done, you’ll even be able to surpass Yugi!”

“Say no more. Let’s do it!”

#yugioh #yu gi oh #kaiba x reader #seto kaiba x reader #seto kaiba #yugioh x reader #x reader #x reader fanfiction

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