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thesmokingguns · 2 years

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Safe?

Warning” mentions of domestic abuse and trauma

It was the way that she looked at me. The way her eyes snapped up when she saw me walk in the bar, like she had needed me. How she pushed through the crowd, her 5'1 body vanishing in the jostling bodies of men and emerging in front of me, launching herself into my arms and holding me tighter than I expected.

She was shaking, my girl with her big blue eyes trembling against me as I rubbed her back through her jacket, giving Tommy a look of confusion beside me, wondering if he had seen something that I hadn’t.

But he was scanning the crowd looking for a guilty party because surely someone had to have done something to make my girl this upset.

"Hey, it's okay, I got you. You're alright, you're okay." I was running my fingers through her hair, kissing her head as I tried to sweetly whisper words to give her some comfort. But it didn't seem to be having her desired effect.

She was terrified.

The soft whisper of my name and the choked sob as she buried her face Into my shirt once again. I was moving her outside, giving Tommy a head nod to let him know I'd meet him backstage for the show we would be playing soon, wondering how I was going to play it if my girl couldn’t let me go. A friendship where we didn't have to speak, that I could just nod and he understood what I was saying, knowing I needed to calm her down and still keeping an eye out for whoever was guilty of making her this upset.

Her intake of breath in the night air, as I moved to the side of the building to give us some privacy on a busy Sunset Striip. Pulling her off of me, as I looked at her, trying to see what had happened in her eyes and seeing the fear there unlike anything I had ever seen in her before.

Her fear was so vivid, like she had just watched a movie and the monster had come from the TV screen and showed up in her living room to haunt her in real life. The nightmare was alive and it was scaring my girl. That was not okay.

"Nik-Nikki." she stuttered out my name, reaching to grip my hand as she looked around her for whatever boogeyman had frightened her. "H-he showed u-u-up at my fr-front do-o-o-or. M-My ex." she got out in half gasps of fear. Her ex, the one who she had a restraining order against because of what he had put her through when they dated and even after when she had broken free. The reason she had several locks on her door and carried pepper spray and a knife at all times to protect herself from a real person and not just a what if scenario. "A-And he f-f-followed m-me to the bar. H-he's going to k-k-kill me." she was looking around now, as if she thought he was lurking in some shadows ready to pounce out and get her.

The only one who was going to kill anyone was me. I was going to wring that mother fuckers neck for scaring my gir this badly, for making her not feel safe in a town that l ran. For making her pretty eyes fill with tears and how she trembled in my arms like he was all the bad things in the world rolled up in one.

No one fucked with my girl. And he was about to realize he had made a terrible mistake showing up in LA.

“Let's get you backstage with everyone. I’ll talk to security and have them reach out to the police. No more staying at your house, you’ll be with me until we figure all of this out.” I was stroking her knuckles with my fingers to help her calm down. I knew that presenting her with a plan would make her start to feel a little bit better.

She nodded, the inhale of breath shaky as she stood knees knocking together. Her anxiety wanted to cause her body to shake, teeth to chatter in the fear that he had made her feel.

She let me wrap her up, bring her inside and deposit her on the couch next to Mick. Mick was quiet but no one fucked with him and she knew that she would be safe with the older man. Tommy met my eyes and I moved my head slightly to give us some space so I could explain what was going on to him.

Everyone knew about her abusive ex. She had told me the stories when things started to get serious. She said her baggage she was bringing to the relationship wasn’t the ordinary suitcase but she had ocean liner trunks full of damage that she was working through. She explained scenes that I thought only existed in those awful made for TV true crime soap opera movies. Her stories had my own tears welling up in my eyes, hands shaking.

She was the first person I loved enough to want to keep safe and she was the first person in my life who was hard to keep safe.

Tommy listened to what happened, eyes on her as he shook his head in frustration. We all needed to be on high alert and make sure that nothing happened to her. Her ex wasn’t a safe person and my girl-

The lights shut off. Total blackness that made the crowd in the bar quiet before they sighed in annoyance. I was trying to find my way to her, making my way through people, trying to picture her on the couch.

Her scream reached me before I reached her.

Tommy flicked open his lighter and we saw Mick on the couch, and small specks of blood where my girl had been moments before.

He had her now. And she was in more trouble than I could fathom. My heart in my throat I felt Tommy grab my arm, trying to talk to me as I felt light headed in fear.

I needed to find her. I needed to rescue her. I needed my girl to be safe.

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#Nikki Fucking Sixx #nikki sixx fanfic #nikki sixx fanfiction #Nikki Sixx fan fic #nikki said fanfic #motley crue #Motley Crue fanfic

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demonfuck · 3 months

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day 3 of me reacting to the final episode of "the curse" (mostly spoiler free vent but don't read if you intend on watching anyway)

death mention, seriously triggering discussion of irl death

during the first few episodes i made the mental call of "unlike nathan's previous shows, this one is scripted, fictional. anything can happen. i feel like they're going to take full advantage of that"

because the show is playing with you for the entire run about whether this takes place in the Real world and Nothing Unreal Is Possible, or maybe curses are real and Unreal Things Can Happen

10 weeks of my brain overcoming the tiny gap of potential unreality and accepting that it's probably just going to be a fictional but realistic story. 10 episodes of becoming grounded in the world and the people in it. people reacting like real people do, saying awkward things, being uncomfortable, all of it

building up to the horror show of episode 10. god

i get Abnormally invested in TV shows that i like. i really really like to engage with what i'm watching. for the first couple days after episode 10 i legit couldn't fall asleep without being scared about what happened. without looking up at the ceiling and thinking

and thinking What if it happens to me? and i tell myself, i have friends i can call, real friends who would engage with me sincerely and get me the help i need

because sure, the exact scenario depicted in the final episode can't happen. it can't happen, that's not how our world works. just because it's fictional and silly doesn't stop it from being scary when life is at stake. there are times in real life when lives are at stake, when a crisis depends on the people involved to communicate clearly and sincerely. to see a scenario, even fictional, where you just can't rely on people to stop something terrible from happening..

i don't really care how anybody else feels about the quality of the curse, the whole thing or the ending. "someone died for no reason" depicted hyper realistically haunts me. it dragged me mentally to the deaths i've seen in my own life, to the people who were in a position to prevent them (like , literally getting paid to oversee the well being of these people)

all i want is to be a person who, when someone tells me "i'm in crisis, i'm serious, i'm struggling, this is affecting me intensely" i don't have to be %*#&ing convinced that it's real, i just listen. i don't take in the information and go "that's wild" and assume they're exaggerating

and i don't keep people who need that kind of convincing in my life! i imagine if my life were ever dependent on convincing irony poisoned doich bags that i'm being sincere, i would scream so loud that every organ in my body would burst into dust

the people from my life that i'm talking about aren't in my life anymore. i didn't just lose their phone numbers, i threw the phone i used to have into a volcano

#irl death mention #topic of death related trauma

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ramblingguy54 · 2 years

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Turning Red: Setting The Stage For A Dramatic Third Act.

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR TURNING RED BELOW.

The falling out scene Turning Red had really surprised me on what it sets out to do. Didn’t know what to expect in the third act of this movie, but damn they capitalized on on showing said dangerous element of not having real control over your emotions. Ming Lee arriving at the scene right when Mei pounced on Tyler was a brutal way to foreshadow why exactly she’s so over protective of her daughter’s safety, as well as other people too. Turning Red, while being this cheeky heartfelt study about blossoming womanhood, is a haunting reflection surrounding complications when you’re not in control of your own anger. Forcing your feelings inward becoming a state of passiveness doesn’t help dealing with the bigger problem of this manifesting in their lineage Red Panda gift.

Ming Lee seeing Mei bruise up a defenseless boy stirred up all those traumatic events when she lashed out at her own mother. Ever since that fateful day Ming viewed their gift as an unsightly curse needing to be expelled. Ming wanted nothing more than to protect Mei from the Panda’s Curse and prevent it from ever showing up again to cause more destruction in her life. Ming already dealt with all the selective control her mother had, so now yet another factor interferes adding to an already absurdly stressful existence? Knowing the reality of what it could do for her daughter, Ming was driven by an understandable empathetic fear protecting this child from landing herself in some awful worst case scenario.

What if she hadn’t gotten there in time? Would Mei in that blinding rage have seriously injured Tyler, or outright unintentionally kill him due to not knowing her own super strength? Throw in the authorities getting involved creates a more painful narrative for what’s exactly at stake here. It would’ve resulted in ruining Mei’s life forever, if things did reach that kind of volcanic eruption. Ming felt terrible about leaving a scar on her mother’s face from their intense falling out, so if her precious kid had killed someone, due to the Red Panda, there’s no way she would’ve ever forgave herself for any of it.

This wasn’t only a matter of, “These friends of your’s are a bad influence!”, but one steeped in years of regretful family conflict. Ming distanced herself from her mother because every time she sees that scar it’s a deeply painful reminder. A painful reminder the crucial lack of control Ming lost sight of, given her severe fight she had with Wu Lee over marrying Jin Lee. She attacked someone who, despite having bitter feelings of never being able to live out a childhood of her own, Ming still obviously cares about. It’s a serious gut punch for Ming to see Mei assault someone in such a vicious manner because Wu Lee warned her before this to be very watchful of the child. Even after all the frustration, grief, and anger Ming has carried, this woman still wants to show Wu Lee how capable she is. Generational trauma at its finest, ladies and gentlemen.

You can easily see where Ming is coming from here because while sure it was an ancestral gift used to help others in their time of need, this ability can be deadly in the wrong hands. After all, that destruction Ming causes to the 4Town stadium in her own enormous Panda form speaks for itself right there. The Red Panda, if not controlled by someone with stable emotions, can transform into something downright terrifying endangering others’ well being. Something Mei internally reflects on after the event happens wondering if she’d be better off without having it at all. How will it affect the pivotal relationship with her mother? Are Ming Lee & Mei going to become distant like what happened with her grandma? Can she find a way to make her Red Panda work in the daily routine without it becoming a serious hindrance on Mei’s future lifestyle?

One of the biggest praises I gotta give Turning Red is how seamlessly it blends drama and comedy together in the story they’re trying to convey. One second Mei is swooning over Devon in Red Panda form tapping her foot fast, like Thumper from Bambi. The next she’s breaking down in tears overhearing her mother express tremendous concerns about how they’re going to handle this current predicament. Ming Lee never wanted Mei to go through what she experienced because getting thrust into the responsibility of, “You need to control our ancestral gift, or else it could have permanent effects on your life.”, had awful consequences on the way her mother views herself. She thought there wasn’t any way to make up to Wu Lee about giving her that scar. All those years Ming Lee drifted apart from Wu Lee not just because of her Red Panda incident, but it was due to all the unfair expectations her mom wanted, overall.

There are plenty of red flags in Ming behaving similarly to her mother. This isn’t to say Ming Lee is emotionally cold to her daughter, of course. I’ve seen plenty of posts recently comparing Ming Lee to Abuela Alma from Encanto. Which, while yes, there’s much to be discussed about how Turning Red & Encanto share the thematic weight of generational trauma, Ming does behave differently in some fashion from that story’s respective elderly character. Abuela I’d argue is much harsher toward Mirabel, than Ming Lee ever was to Mei. Ming was controlling, overbearing, and wanted perfection, where those attributes can be lumped in with Abuela’s intentions for her own family. However, the key defining difference here is Abuela rarely wanted to spend time with Mirabel, considering she saw her as more of a disappointment, than real family.

Ming Lee always wanted Mei to be apart of her life, despite the ridiculous lengths she goes in ensuring happiness. Ming & Abuela certainly are comparably written well intent extremists, but how these two are characterized helps put stuff into better perspective for their own films’ end goals. Abuela’s endgame destination was understanding Mirabel has always been good enough to be apart of their family, gift or none at all. Ming Lee’s final destination, on the other hand, is realizing she had been implanting exactly what this woman was trying to escape from, immensely unfair cultural expectations. Ming never allowed her daughter to blossom into who Mei wanted to truly become, showcased in why she goes behind her mother’s back to do the 4Town Concert fundraiser deal. None of that would’ve happened had Ming actually kept an open mind about it all. Mei tried to open up about her own interests and got automatically shot down by Ming because she always believed family came first before themselves.

Turning Red manages to have it’s conflict and ideas culminate into a very profound message of growing up being hard because you must reexamine parts of your own life. Mei had always believed she couldn’t excuse herself from inherited family responsibilities. That she always had put their needs before herself, given everything Ming had put into her head. Mei was indeed brainwashed not just by her mother, but a common issue in Asian culture. Granted, not every Asian family is obviously like this, although there is a painful truth behind it all. Perfection, studying hard, and family are three things their way of life has preached to above and beyond. It’s a severely double edged sword sometimes bringing out good results sure, but this mind set can just as well as have great consequences on future generations. The cycle needs to change in order for people to freely live their own life and help family when need be.

I sincerely felt for Mei’s conflict against her mom, as someone who has dealt with parental differences the more I’ve grown into adulthood over these years, too. A bittersweet element of life is you’re going to think more differently from what your own parents believe, depending on whatever defining experiences we’ve had. No matter how much you love your parents, sometimes they need to be called out when any father or mother alienates events that have shaped ourselves. For this important reason alone I couldn’t have a greater appreciation for what Turning Red set it out to tell in its story and especially the way it executed said messages, in general. Turning Red is truly an excellent addition to Pixar’s library of animated gems because not only will many young girls will strongly relate to this film, but so will plenty of adults.

Don’t judge a book by its silly cover, as Turning Red has plenty of underlying dramatic writing for anyone to mull over in their minds. It’s not just about some young girl going through a clever allegory for puberty, but a tale of the emotional conditioning one’s culture, not to mention past family conflicts, defining a person’s struggles. Turning Red is a story about overcoming and coping to become better.

#pixar's turning red #mei lee #ming lee #seriously anyone should watch this movie #it's got so much heart underneath its silly exterior #color me impressed!#wu lee #turning red spoilers #a passionate story of surrounding one's own upbringing #life is messy and people have darker sides to themselves #but it's how we choose to act and control our emotions that really count #turning red

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herstarburststories · 3 years

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you and me and the devil makes three.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x reader, Demon!Dean Winchester x reader, past Lisa x Dean

Summary: Dean is a demon, he will take whatever he wants.

A/N: This got darker than I expected. I wanna make it clear I don't condone or engage with Dean's acts on this. This is my submission for @jawritter 's Make Me Cry Challenge. Congrats, honey! Hope you like it. Dividers by talesmanic and gif credit here

Prompt: I guess I should have been more like her.

Warnings: non consensual kissing, language, UNHEALTHY BEHAVIOR, non con (kissing and touching but no sex), dirty talk

Dean Winchester was a dreamer.

In the rawest way of the word, the meaning in the dust-collecting dictionaries and not the idealistic form. His eyelids shut close and, just like magic, Dean’s head was as haunted as the home he swore he’d never come back to in Kansas. The ghosts of the past, not ever so very friendly, coming to greet him at least three times per week. Sometimes they were happy films he could never starre in real life, his mom singing or a picnic with a lover saying that they needed to hurry up to get their kid at the baseball. The nightmares were sleepy visions of flesh and blood, mostly about his time underneath, Sam hurting, or his father spilling out his worst fears at his face.

Maybe it was how the eldest Winchester’s brain compensated for the lack of bedtime tales and docile affairs growing up. The own way that his brittle soul discovered and molded not to let him collapse, or to always keep him on red alert.

Good and bad deals are mostly a matter of which side you are betting your money on, really.

Because yeah, Dean did wake up feeling like he had shut his forest eyes briefly for twenty minutes instead of hours when he dreamed, but he also had never spent so long trapped in a better place. The green eyed hunter didn’t know which one was worse: the good dreams or the horrific ones. After all, he had went through all the atrocity and made it out alive, but the engulfed craving for light-hearted scenarios was suffocating. The hunter could never have it all. Trust him, he tried. Then, which is more agonizing: to have everything you ever wanted for a couple hours and have every scrap of it taken from you, or to undergo the calamity that accompanied your breaking point?

Dean didn’t know, he didn’t even know what to tell Sam when he wondered what his brother had dreamt about to wake up sweating and screaming, all the light and stupid apple pie desires and the sharp brutality crawling out of the back of his mind. He made a joke, Megan Fox really liked knives, man. He kept it in, shoved down a good amount of alcohol, and mocked the worry of doing the lawn. Ready for another day.

But now he was a demon, and apparently whatever he was made of - sulfur, cruelty, and black eyes under garden ones - wasn't worthy quiet reliefs in the middle of the night, or even frightening figments of memory. He became his worst dreams and all the dreams slipped beyond his reaches because of that. Demons, those unholy creatures, didn’t get the human peculiarities. You know what? Fine by him.

Who needed dreams when you don't need sleep, anyway? Even better: who needed dreams when you don't care about what you gotta do to put your greedy hands on the prize you had been eyeing for years?

Dean Winchester was finally free. Free for the first time since he was a four years little boy who watched his mother burning with a terrorized expression, ironically mimicking the one Mary wore on the ceiling. His dad’s shouting for him to grab Sammy and run, take your little brother and run, echoing through years and years. There was never time for Dean, for his grief or his questions or whatever the child frozen in time under his rib cage could come up with. They said, stupid psychologists with their fancy degrees and malicious bartenders with a unfriendly grun under the counter who learned a little too much, everybody said that when someone was so traumatized as a kid, that person would tend to get frozen at that age. Therefore, how tremendously alleviating was to kill any reminiscing emotion of the whiny child he used to be.

The kind of freedom that no traveler longed for; when one’s ruined and damaged enough not to care, and just take and take and take like hunger itself. Dean was an evil thing now, what else could he do but act on the figments of the worst intentions?

And feel so fucking good when doing that.

‘’Where do you think he's going?’’ Your eyes raked over the street, darting between the asphalt under Baby’s wheels and Sam’s weary features.

‘’I don't know.’’ He sighed, attempting to organize his thoughts. Even as a demon, his brother wouldn’t just run miles and miles away by himself for no apparent reason. There had to be something you and Sam were missing out, some unseen clue or a hidden meaning. ‘’What the localizator says?’’

At least you had managed to put a tracker in his boots during your last encounter. Whatever Dean was thinking of starting there, you and Sam wouldn’t let him.

‘’Still Cicero, Indiana.’’ You sighed. Sammy furrowed his eyebrows, a long forgotten memory rising. ‘’What?’’

‘’We had a case there once years ago.’’ He explained, opting not to elaborate. Your and Dean’s relationship was troubled enough with his new self. Sam didn’t want to blow it up completely. His brother would need you once he came back to himself. The look on your face, though, reported how you weren’t buying his cheap excuses. The long haired hunter sighed. ‘’Did Dean ever tell you about that?’’

‘’No.’’

He stepped on the accelerator.

To find the woman was excruciatingly easy. The freckled demon couldn't believe he opened his computer many times and gave up before today. He glanced through the glass window and there she was, standing in all her glory with a body that seemed to forget how to grow old. Her tan skin still glowing, as appetizing as ever. Brown eyes shining so bright, tiny hands that always seemed to know where he wanted to be touched. She was laughing like there was no tomorrow, holding a glass of wine with one hand and her cellphone with the other, while her dark hair was falling so perfectly over her shoulder, like waves against the rocks in the sea.

Dean can’t wait to smell her again, to taste her, to prove her. His fingers were tingling, begging to touch what was his as he hopped off the car, walking towards the porch. He had been gone for a long time, but now he was back.

He will destroy that quintessential, sequin woman so good.

The Winchester buckled in front of the white door, graced with the sound of the female giggle. Thin walls, he thought, those will be useful to make sure the neighbors know who’s back home. Her steps on the wood floor growing closer and closer as he heard a goodbye, probably aimed at whoever she was on the phone with. It was almost like the caramel skinned woman knew that whoever was on her doorstep wasn’t gonna be a hustled visitor. Or so the demon’s arranged mind said.

‘’Hey, Lis.’’ Dean’s voice lacked any cherishment as she opened the door, who would know that the absence of a soul wouldn't be gelid, just dry? As for her, Lisa’s face was drained of love. For all she was aware of, he was a stranger who knew her name. The male let out a chuckle empty of joy. She really didn’t remember, huh? ‘’Whoa. Cass really fucked up your head, huh? At least he did one thing right.’’

‘’Excuse me?’’ The man with dirty blonde hair and perfect teeth smelled like alcohol. She wasn’t having any of this tonight. ‘’Listen, I don’t know who you are and--’’

‘’Don’t worry.’’ He tranquilized her, although the lopsided grin on his lips held anything but good intentions. ‘’I’ll make you remember. I have a spell. You won’t believe how much you missed me.’’

The mocking laugh that left her lips utterly aggravated him. ‘’I don’t know you. Please leave or I’ll call the police.’’

Dean didn’t need a crowd for that part, a bratty woman in need of a firm hand should get a particular lesson.

‘’You always liked a little cat and mouse.’’

Speaking of, the demon pushed the door wide open without any effort. Lisa jumped at the sudden move, every instinct inside her deciding that man was a threat and not some harmless wasted guy. Her body was quickly erect, thinking about ways to run and get help, but Dean swiftly pushed her to him and kicked the door closed-- her small figure collided to his chest.

Human savagery was cut in urban ways, molded to civilize the animalistic instincts. Imagine meat. A dead animal on a silver plate, and we couldn’t wait to chew every inch of it. We couldn’t wait to eat it, put that dead thing inside us and hope it’ll be enough to control the predatory hungry. Humans will always be animals, but so will be their rests that constructed the demons.

Dean may not be a hunter anymore, but he’s still a predator who can't wait to taste his prey. He could small it, the fear in Lisa’s sweat making his mouth water. How much she tried to fight against him and scream other names when his was the only one he wanted her to need tonight. The resistance of a poor human barely made the monster shiver.

He closed his hands around her arms, throwing her against the wall like someone tossed an old toy away. There was no space for delicaly. In that moment, Dean Winchester was a tiger, a lion, the big bad wolf attacking the omega. Lis winced, her back hurting as her fibers. She couldn’t believe this was happening, that man was about to do something so terrible and disgusting to her in her own house, the place she was supposed to feel warm and safe. Why did he seem to know her? Why did he say she was gonna remember? Was he crazy, hallucinating, or drugged? Why was he so satisfied with how frightened her tiny body looked? How could she use all that information to somehow push him away?

‘’Let me go!’’ She demanded, her legs kicking the demon with ferocity. ‘’What’s wrong with you? LET ME GO NOW!’’

The brunette’s skilled body moved itself desperately, and the act of resistance only brought a hysterical laugh out of Dean. The wrong kind of goosebumps washed her skin, she had to run away for her life. This man was mad.

‘’FIRE! FIRE!’’ Lisa started to scream. Well-aware that people were most likely to come around and help a woman screaming if she said fire. ‘’THERE’S A FIRE. SOMEONE HELP ME!’’

One of his hands went to her neck, wrapping his fingers around it to shut her up. That was rubbing him off the wrong way. Lisa Braeden used to beg for his touch, how dared her not to want him anymore? Now that he was better, stronger, and thicker.

The brown eyed girl went quiet, probably scared by his brutal behavior. Dean smiled, a blood stained grin that carried mischief and pervertment. He licked the tears savoring the salty horror coming from her. Just like the day he was a vampire who almost gave in to drinking every drop of her luptuos blood. She may not remember but he did and he couldn't wait to get inside her, those tight walls squeezing his hard cock.

‘’You’re gonna do as I say, Lis. And I won't hurt you… Much.’’ He risped, crooked nose stroking her wet cheek. She whined. ‘’Don’t worry, honey. You loved it. Bet you’ll scream so much once I fuck you good.’’

‘’Please, don’t do it.’’ She begged as he coaxed his body against his. That man was stronger than her, she had no other choice but to plead to his human side. If only she knew.

‘’Begging already?’’ Dean lifted his head, smirking at her. Lisa just wanted to cry and close her eyes until everything was done. How could someone do that? ‘’I told you, don’t worry. I’m gonna make a lil’ spell that will give your memories back and you’ll remember everything. And then we’re gonna have so much fun, Lis.’’

His last murmur was finished with a kiss. A harsh, ruthless kiss. Actually, she wasn’t even sure if she could call it a kiss; teeth against each other, his vicious mouth pressed to her weakened lips, his tongue invading her like a robber and showing an unrequited dominance.

‘’Dean!’’ Your voice resonated stridently, louder than the door Sam had stormed open. You couldn’t believe what your eyes witnessed. ‘’Stop it!’’

Dean groaned, as if you and Sam were stepping on his territory. He simply turned his head to you two, not pulling away from Lisa. You couldn’t see her face, your boyfriend’s large shoulder and tall body covering her up. His eyes were still green, which set the scene in an even more atrocious light.

Your thoughts were racing. How could he come to her, crave her so badly that he drove away miles and miles as a demon? He was supposed not to feel a thing. You prepared yourself for a cold man, not an obsessive one. Apparently, a heart hidden under the black smoke. Choose if it's a gift or Pandora's box. Sam told you their history. Of course he would want that and not you. Dean never left Lisa because he fell out of love for her, he was ripped out from her life. You were so pissed at yourself; how could you picture playing the woman in his veins? How stupid were you? He may be a demon guided by wants and not emotions, but what was love but an amount of outrageous desires laced up with some pretty words and flavored with dependency?

‘’Y/N and Sammy--’’

Love was the wrong word here. Anyway. Go head and unwrap it.

‘’Please help me!’’ Lisa’s voice came to life once more through her quiet cry. Dean hardened the hold around her throat, making her cough a little.

Suddenly, your body is frozen. That, whatever that is, whatever he’s doing to Lisa. It wasn’t love. She didn’t want it. When his frame moved to face you and Sam, you caught a glimpse of her face. She was petrified, her delicate features contorted in wrath and fear and beg for help.

‘’Quiet.’’ Dean howled, glancing at her rapidly before his eyes fell on you and Sam again. ‘’You two are such killjoys. I told you to let me go.’’

You couldn’t believe what you were witnessing. You wanted to puke your guts out.

‘’And what? Kill your ex? Or do something even worse to her?’’ You elicited with disgust.

‘’She’ll come around eventually. Just playing hard to get. You know how frisky women are.’’ The corner of his lips curved into a barbaric grim, one of his hands touching Lisa’s cheek. The victim winced at the touch. ‘’Besides, I’m not just gonna take her. I’ll make her remember and she’ll want me.’’ He shrugged, unbothered by the horrified looks of everyone in the room. ‘’Are you really worried about Lis, Y/N? Or are you just jealous that I didn’t go for you?’’

‘’Enough, Dean.’’ Sam groaned, holding the gun up. It felt oily. ‘’Let her go. And come with us.’’

The demon tossed the brunette away with a simple sleight of hand, pulling his sleeves up with a marred beam. His eyes switched from starry green to black, showing his true facette. It was a peculiar relief. It wasn’t Dean. It wasn’t Dean. It wasn’t Dean.

Yet, Dean’s gruff voice said in a twisted playful tone:

‘’Come get me, Sammy.’’

Dean Winchester was cured. For most people, to heal is to let go or to learn with things. In the doctor’s case, healing is leaving a bruise to cover up a wound. Everyone believed the war started and ended, and that was it. But when something so ravaging is gone, you gotta deal with the trauma.

He was a trauma. Cured from a sickness, drowning in sorrow and waves of woe. All the worst things Dean ever did, he knew now, weren’t to himself or to the monster he so proudly killed. His unspoken acts were against the people he cared about.

The hunter never thought his hands, his bruised and tough hands could ever hurt Lis. The woman who was his lifeline when Sam died, who allowed him to be a father and live in his dreamland of suburban life. All she ever did was to love him, and what did she get for it?

He was disgusted with himself. What almost did to her was enough to hunt him and make him sure he was going back to hell, very deserving this time. Threating to do that to a woman, and enjoy it… Dean couldn’t bear driving into memories. He was selfishly glad he didn’t remember about that, only Sam’s explanation was enough: he went to Lisa, he kissed her without her consent, and Sam and you stopped him going any further. Would his unscrupulous, demon self go ahead? He was too scared to wonder, even though his brother said that he apparently had a spell to make Lis remember and wasn’t planning on just taking her. A forced kiss was disgusting enough. He just wished Sam had put a bullet in his black eyes right there.

You walked in the bathroom that you once shared with the eldest Winchester

She was everything he ever wanted, all the suburban dreams and acceptance of hunter reality without being in it. Lisa loved him completely and you could only love him sideways-- you never wanted to be a mom, or to have a family or live in a suburb. Those were valid goals, just not yours. You thought you and Dean were on the same page about it, but this other side, not only the pervert demon but the domestic man, hadn’t been shown to you until a couple days ago. Sam had cured his brother, his dirty nature washed away with holy water, but you couldn’t help the bruises that came from the dog days. Lisa had her memory erased by Cass again, you didn’t have the same unfair luxury.

‘’Dean.’’ You said, making him look up at you. Bags under his eyes and wrinkles more evident than ever. ‘’We need to talk.’’

He sighed and wiped his face. ‘’Y/N, I don’t want to talk right now.’’

‘’You never do.’’ You scoffed, gaining an incredulous glance from him. ‘’I know that what happened was disgusting and sick and the worst thing you could ever do, but we need to talk.’’

He took a deep breath. ‘’What do you wanna talk about?’’

‘’You went to her.’’ You stated as a lawyer in front of a jury. Dean furrowed.

‘’What?’’

‘’Lisa. You went to her.’’ When the arrow hit someone so damaged, it was like an animal with his teeth there that wouldn't let go. Yeah, his human soul wasn't the same brittle glass as before but it lingered in his demon self in the shape of delusion, and it was distorted by whatever he was made of, violence and darkness, and turned into something disgusting. ‘’You love her.’’

‘’Love?’’ The word burned his tongue, Dean didn’t think he had the right to ever use it again. ‘’I was a demon, Y/N. I didn’t love or feel anything. What I did--’’

‘’You didn’t do anything.’’ You interrupted, loyal as a soldier.

‘’I forced a kiss on her and wanted to bring her memories back to have sex with her. That’s disgusting and I did half of that.’’ He pointed out aggitadly, plump lips moving fast and voice deeper. ‘’It wasn’t love. Leaving her years back was love.’’

You didn’t miss how Dean didn’t even dare to say her name. ‘’So you don’t think about her? Not even once?’’

He scoffed humourless. ‘’Are you kidding me?’’

‘’I guess I should have been more like her.’’ You hugged yourself, glancing at the wall. You didn’t want to cry in front of him. Not again, not for another woman. That wasn’t even your cicatrix to ache.

‘’Y/N, what the fuck are you talking about?’’ The fully green eyed man raised to his feet, glancing at you with disbelief. He couldn’t face how messed up it was. ‘’I can’t believe you are jealous of what happened. I thought I was the broken one here.’’

‘’I’m not her.’’ You two shared it, the glance that only two women who were hurt by the same man could. You both understood that when he got inside you, it was like the syringe in an eutanasia. Once you were happy because you loved him, now you were scared and not so sure this was what you wanted. ‘’I’m not her and you knew it. When you became just instincts and selfish and did whatever you wanted, you didn’t come to me. You came to her.’’

‘’I hurt her.’’

The next words fly out of your mouth, as weak and totaled as you felt: ‘’Why didn’t you hurt me?’’

‘’This is the most unhealthy shit we ever went through.’’ Dean’s right. You have her expression mesmerized on your brain. Dean was the man on top of her, teaching her how to hate. How to fear. You can’t trust yourself. ‘’I can’t believe you.’’

‘’Neither can I.’’ You were so sick. How ravaged and annihilated one had to be to wish to be a demon's object of obsession? To get jealous that another woman almost died in the arms of a beast that cried his blood out once he came back to being a man and saw what he had done? ‘’I hate it. I hate feeling like this. I was there and I saw how scared of you she was, how all she wanted was to push you away and run because she was so disgusted--’’

‘’Stop.’’ He groaned, but it came out more like a whine than anything. ‘’It wasn’t me. I would never hurt Lis. I would never force her to do anything! I--’’

You gave him a sad smile. ‘’You love her.’’

‘’I love you.’’ Dean approached you, fumbling in despair to fix yet another thing his hands destroyed. If Rome was built in ruins, he was a kingdom. You pulled away before his tough hands landed on you.

‘’But you love her too.’’ The hunter stopped on his spot, unable to answer. ‘’I ruined myself for you, Dean. I can’t-- I won’t do that again. You are right. This is unhealthy. The fact that you’ve been pining for her for so long, pushing down those feelings to the point they are twisted into something so cruel and disgusting. You need help.’’ What kind of ugly you have to have inside you for a monster to love you? And, even worse, what kind of sickness you have trapped, written in your blood to want it to be spilled out in his name? ‘’You really are venom. If this is how you love, it’s scary as fuck.’’ When you loved a broken man, you were never sure if his shattered pieces would glisten or cut your hand once the light came in. Here’s your answer. His parts crawled inside you through pulled up scars, scraping your insides to make into ruins, but you never liked Rome much. You had to be better than that. ‘’Goodbye, Dean.’’

He couldn’t bring himself to go after your steps.

Once again, it’s the kind of freedom no traveler wants. When you lost it all and didn't have any person or place to cling to, when you had to leave because you were becoming the girl you swore you’d never leave, when you walked away willingly without a map.

Still, it was all you had. You’d make a good use of it. You’d be okay. No more ugly emotions or sentiments that made you unrecognizable. No more knives that cut both ways, or situations so complicated you weren’t sure where your morals could rely on.

You’d be okay, healthy, and happy.

You’d be okay.

Comment & reblog. Feedback is magic! Check my masterlist ♡ Tags in reblog!

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laufire · 3 years

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(CW for mentions of csa)

A lot of Commonly Accepted (Often Through Uncritical Repetition) Wisdom in fandom leaves me baffled, when not straight up ticked off, but one that's been on my mind lately, that never fails to bring a scrunched up expression to my face, is the idea that Bela Talbot's backstory was some last minute add-on to her character.

You might argue that the reveal was rushed since the writers caved in and killed her off against their original plan (or at the very least, earlier than). Or that using abuse is a trite way to raise sympathy for an antagonistic character. You could even say that some of the finer details might’ve not been set in stone until they sat down to write her exist, although that one is dubious. But I’m never really going to buy that Bela’s backstory hadn’t been already planned, likely in big part.

The reason why is Season Three Episode Six, “Red Sky At Morning”, Bela’s second episode, co-written by Eric Kripke himself. As all episodes with Bela were, may I add; which means he had a hand in crafting her story from the beginning, as creator, director, and writer.

There Dean, a character that has been shown as sharp and intuitive (although his success rate ain’t that great when it comes to Bela, admittedly xD), immediately pegs her as someone with Issues TM, asking “how did she get like this”. He even taunts her by referencing her father, showing off his talent to hit where it hurts by asking if he “didn’t give her enough hugs”, ‘cause he’s classy like that. This visibly affects Bela, changing her demeanor in their conversation, from more playful to defensive. Hell, I remember during my first watch in real time this moment, especially paired with the rest of the episode, was when I first thought it was possible she came from an abusive family.

Because, c’mon. This whole episode is about parricide. The monster of the week is a ghost who haunts those that “spilled their own family’s blood”. We get two other examples: a woman whose accidental car crash killed her cousin, and two brothers who killed their father for the inheritance. Clearly, the ghost doesn’t have a narrow criteria when it comes to means or culpability -which makes sense given his particular story: he was tried for treason and his brother, the captain of the ship, issued the sentence.

And just as we find out this information... Bela sees the ghost ship that foretells her death. This, paired with the insinuations about an unsavvory past and her discomfort at the mention of her father, aren’t a wealth of information, but they start to paint a picture. We now know for a fact that Bela caused the death of at least one relative (mom and dad); that she wouldn’t have needed to do it directly (she made a crossroads deal); and that she might’ve had a sympathetic motive (her father sexually abused her and her mother turned a blind eye).

That scene offers some more tidbits of information about her past that seem too in tune with 3x15 to be coincidental, and that absolutely break my heart: Bela’s “You wouldn’t understand. No one did.“ and “I’ll just do what I’ve always done. I’ll deal with it myself”. See, I always thought Bela must’ve told people, when she was a kid. That she reached out for help not just to her mother, but to everyone around her that she thought could’ve help: teachers, maybe even law enforcement; adults that should’ve being worthy of that trust and protected her. Except no one did (and the fact that her family seemed to be not only very rich but influential paints a very bleak picture that surely contributed to her cynic view of the world). So she took matters in her own hands, and sold her soul for ten years of relative safety and freedom from her abusers.

To tie it all up, her final scene in that episode offers some more moments that again, are very in line with her backstory. We see how she treats relationships as transactionals: she pays ten grand to the Winchesters for saving her life, like she paid with her soul. Dean, again, draws attention to her likely messed up past by calling her damaged, and she replies that “takes one to know one”. Terrible childhood, ammirite. The show wasn’t been subtle here: it’s telling us Bela has a terrible past, like the Winchesters do, but of a different kind that has resulted in a different kind of person. So yeah, I think all the facts were hinted at back in 3x06.

We could go even futher back and point out 3x03, Bela’s introduction. One of the very first things she says in the show, during her first face to face with Dean (a character that just condemned his soul to Hell), is “We’re all going to Hell, Dean. Might as well enjoy the ride”. Sure, it could be an incredibly fortuitous coincidence; as a writer, I’ve had those and they’re damn great. But it seems VERY lucky, and more likely to be a case of the kind premeditated, well-placed foreshadowing that Kripke excels at.

So, okay. I’ve established why I think Bela’s backstory wasn’t a spur of the moment decision. But why is there a notable narrative in fandom that it IS?

First thing first, I want to get something out of the way: you don’t have to like it even if it was planned ahead. I understand it’s a very thorny subject, and to make matters worse, it’s inherently tied to her death. You might even be fine with the what, but not with how it was dealt with (although personally, I appreciate that neither the abuse nor her death were shown onscreen. In fact, the worse violence we see Bela on the receiving end of in her run is Dean’s threats and manhandling, which seems like a very purposeful choice ngl. Even Gordon freaking Walker was gentler lmao).

But I do disagree with some extended fandom opinions on the topic, and I guess that’s what the post is about. For one, I don’t see how the show “condemned” or morally judged Bela in this scenario. If anything, they clearly wanted to make her sympathetic, AND they showed Dean as being in the wrong by robbing him of information. Dean’s opinion on Bela couldn’t count for shit, for once, because he didn’t have the full picture; because Bela had deemed him UNWORTHY of the full picture, and thus anything he had to say on her couldn’t be taken at face value (except this is Supernatural, so I guess this was a little too much to ask of some people?). I think saying that just because Bela died and went to Hell as a consequence of her deal, IN THE SAME SEASON the same happened to our co-lead, because the writers deemed her evil and irredeemable is simplistic at best, and the audience projecting their own feelings (or being unable to see past Dean’s) onto the writing.

All that said, to go back to the initial point of all of this xD: WHY does fandom seem to insist on viewing this narrative choice as some cheap last minute addition?

There might not be one explanation that fits all, but I have a few ideas. One is that, if this wasn’t planned for and hinted at from early on, some people might feel as if this “absolves” them of their previous (and disgustingly hateful and misoginistic) reactions to Bela. Others will see this as absolving Dean, and maybe even Sam to a lesser extent, for not helping her and for being callous towards her; if her tragic backstory was this artificial, rushed choice made by Those Writers, then Dean wasn’t responsible for reprehensible attitudes towards someone who deserved his compassion (and it can’t be denied that this fandom loves absolving Dean of responsibility lmao). And a lot people are probably only repeating what they've heard from others as the accepted narrative, especially those that didn't even watch all of s3 if at all (Castiel is my fave too, but seriously, s1-3 are worth it).

It’s like they’re creating this imaginary separation between Bela pre-reveal, and Bela post-reveal, to make the situation easier to themselves. See, Bela pre-reveal was this annoying bitch who inconvenienced and embarrassed our leads (not to mention dared have chemistry with them), and thus deserved to be punished for it; or, if we’re going with more modern fandom sensibilities, she can be made to fit into the shallow #GirlBoss mold, with a side of “Secretly A Lesbian And Therefore Not A Romantic Threat” flavour -the current preferred method to make controversial female characters more palatable.

The reveal throws a wrench into this narrative. “Bitch who deserves her comeuppance” is a hard sell when you’re talking about a character who survived csa. And a shallow #GirlBoss reading doesn’t work if you have to acknowledge that Bela was one of, if not the most tragic characters in the entire run of Supernatural.

She spent over half her life at the mercy of her abuser(s), hurt by those who should’ve loved her and protected her most. The rest of her life was extremely lonely, with seemingly only a cat as company, and a surface-level freedom that hid under the sentence that loomed over her head. She died without a single friend, or a simple show of kindness and compassion, without anyone bothering to fight for her. And then she ended up tortured for who knows how long until she became one of her torturers.

All of that is extremely difficult to digest. And when things are hard to swallow, people do as people do, and they try to simplify them. So, sure. Bela’s reveal wasn’t ever hinted at, it’s completely removed from her character and the person we met, and is not even worth trying to fit into the narrative. Sounds easy.

#talking to the void #my thoughts #spn thoughts #supernatural #bela talbot #bitter lau tag #fandom nonsense #spn 3x15 #spn 3x06 #spn s3

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masterhandss · 3 years

Note

Hello! Uhm… there’s something I’ve been wondering about for a long time now regarding Nicol. And I figured I may as well ask now, since S2 has started airing.

I’ve seen his wiki page. And it says and I quote: It was later revealed that his emotionless face and quiet nature is a result of extreme trauma. From a young age, people of all genders and ages would tend to do absurd things, as well as assaulting him.

I’ve been so fixated on this probably since S1 had finished, yet I haven’t really had the time to read all the light novels to know where this specifically comes from or even be sure if it’s actually true. The only thing I managed to find was a scene (I think in one of the later volumes) about Katarina pointing out this creepy guy that took Nicol’s used utensils and stared at him a lot, but she didn’t do anything about it because Sophia saw nothing wrong with that guy’s behavior and told her it was okay.

I’m not sure if the wiki was referring to that scene, or something else. And since I know that you read the light novels, I was hoping if maybe you could check that info and confirm/deny it for me. If it is true… then it really puts a whole different perspective on Nicol. People in the series have been shown to faint if Nicol smiles, but it was also mentioned how he was one of the only second year students in the student council because people would fight over him.

And to think their behavior possibly had escalated to the point of traumatizing him as a child makes me very heartbroken to think about. Especially when the wiki also mentioned how he feels very uncomfortable when he’s the center of attention… makes me wonder if the anime will even touch upon any of that.

Hello! I'm sorry if answering this one took such a long time. This one definitely caught my interest so I wanted to take my time in writing a response for this.

// trigger warning: brief mentions of assault (nothing too graphic I swear)

I'm an editor for the wiki, so I admit that I have seen that description on Nicol's page too. I don't know who wrote it (and I never bothered to edit or adjust the wording), but that doesn't really matter since it's not exactly something I can deny.

Before that I just want to make it clear first that the "assault" mentioned in the wiki is probably not sexual or physical assault, it's likely referring to a simple assault, aka any unwanted advances that is done without consent. Whether or not any advances on Nicol while he was growing up were leaning towards sexual assault or physical assault (unwanted physical contact from men and women, sexual invitations, groping etc.) has not been mentioned by the books. It used to be a very popular headcanon for the more darker and realistic depictions of the hamefura or fortune lover world to give Nicol that kind of backstory, which is why I still feel like clarifying just in case anyone might get the wrong idea.

Hamefura is a very light-hearted series so I doubt it would put Nicol is such a tough dark position. While it's played for laughs, thankfully Nicol's beauty makes him so dazzling that people can't get close to him rather than being so handsome that people would try to initiate physical contact at every opportunity lmao.

Rather than the wiki pertaining to a specific scenes, I think it might be written in hindsight instead. It could very much be referring to the guy from Volume 6 who keeps staring at Nicol and stealing his uetnsils, but I feel like it could also be referring to the possibility/likeliness of such events and advances happening regularly. Like we don't really need to be told that men and woman throw themselves at Nicol for us to know about it. I mean if its frequent enough for Nicol to be unbothered by it, then it must happen a lot (as gross as that is). Regardless, those advances can still be classified as assault (since Nicol is not a fan of it at all) and the only reason he doesn't do anything about it is because it happens so often that it might be not worth the trouble anymore. At least we do know from the StoryMe hamefura game that Nicol will act in the face of an unfavorable position if he can, so hopefully he isn't just sitting around like an animal in the zoo if he were to receive unwanted advances.

I wouldn't deny that all of these interactions hadn't traumatized Nicol though. They never really mention in the books word-for-word why Nicol is so emotionally stunted/incapable and silent, they only really mention that he doesn't talk because he doesn't want to receive any unwarranted pity. In the first hamefura anthology (whose canonicity is up for debate), they do say there that the reason why Nicol doesn't talk a lot is because people would twist his words in order to turn it around and make him sound more tragic and pitiable than he actually is. I'm no expert on what is or what isn't considered as trauma, but that sounds like a source of trauma to me. The idea of Nicol being so fed up of people misinterpreting his words and expressions in order to fit what they want to hear must have been so hard on him, to the point where he decided to just not speak at all. It can be easily link to his emotionless-ness too, since any positive reaction like a smile could be twisted to mean other things.

Realistically, having people constantly fight over you, whisper things about you behind your back, constantly ogle at you and be constantly flirted on regardless of gender sounds terrible. If that was me I'd be traumatized too. He definitely hates being in the center of attention for all the reasons previously discussed and other well-known variables; he's always in the eyes of every noble around him which makes him hate being in the spotlight (from his perspective, maybe he always feels like the spotlight is on him, like it'll just never leave. he'll always bothered by the eyes of other people even maybe when he's at home... eyes watching him with desires and expectations, haunting him even when he's alone...). It really makes you think about what kind of life Nicol had been living in without Katarina's positive influence. He would have to bear the burden alone, without being able to say a word about it because he needs to act tough for the sake of Sophia.

Like geez, Nicol is even aware that he has stalkers but isn't doing anything about because "they aren't harmful". He never even really clarified what he meant by that (at least I don't remember anyways, feel free to correct me), like is he already doing something to stop the stalker, is it happening so often that he doesn't care anymore or is he fine with it because the stalker hasn't done anything dangerous (yet)???

If you want an /objective/ answer to whether or not the wiki description was referring to the stalker man from Volume 6 or something else, that line on the wiki was added on April 27, 2020; while the JP release of Volume 6 was on March 20, 2018 vs the EN ebook release which was on June 28, 2020.

The editor is likely a JP reader, or it was just an interpretation based most-likely what-if scenarios/interpretations. That's a fun fact for ya :DD

—and since you mentioned that you haven't read all the volumes of the light novels yet, let me help you by listing chapters in the books with a Nicol POV (that I can remember, as of Volume 9)

Volume 1 Chapter 5 (Encountering Katarina) Volume 2 Chapter 4 (Remembering Katarina's Positive Influence) Volume 3 Chapter 2 (School Festival Various Vignettes - Nicol Ascart) Volume 4 Extra Chapter (The Troubles of Nicol Ascart) Volume 5 Chapter 4 (A Lady for Nicol) Volume 8 Chapter 2 (Nicol's "dream")

With this, hopefully it'll be easier for you to cross-reference if you want to look into Nicol's character on your own :DD

TLDR; the trauma and assault mentioned in the wiki is definitely real, although the extent and severity might depend on the reader('s imagination). There's no particular scene to point to as the source, explanation or example of Nicol being given uncomfortable treatment, but it's not hard to imagine given the kind of character Nicol is. He is a silent beauty who caries himself smartly and politely, which in the eyes of many carnivorous nobles is the perfect kind of prey. Whether or not he was assaulted in any way or if people's behavior towards him can be considered as assault depends on the reader, since we still have yet to get a deep dive on Nicol's life outside of his friend group.

If there's any confirmation or deconfirmation to anything I said that I have missed during my skimming on the light novels, feel free to tell me! If I got the definitions and examples of trauma and assault wrong, feel free to tell me and I'll edit this post as fast as I can!

I know this might not exactly be the response you were hoping for, but I hope it was good enough to read qwq. There's so much I could still say but I know I'll go too deep into interpretation (I kinda already did though...), which I want to avoid since the question is asking for in-canon proofs and instances.

Thank you for the ask!

#mh ask #hamefura #my next life as a villainess #hamehura #bakarina #destruction flag otome #nicol ascart #sophia ascart #mhmmm this question makes me nervous because I feel like I could have said something incorrect or triggering #HELP ME AGSJHGD

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foreverfeelslike · 4 years

Text

The Stories Behind folklore: an analysis

Get ready for a wild ride. I know the point of these songs/stories is that they are fragmented and based on imagery, so I don’t really believe that there is a completely linear, fleshed out story and I think multiple characters could have been the speakers to the same songs. There is definitely evidence against my version of the story. Either way, Taylor clearly left easter eggs to a bigger picture, so here is my interpretation of it.

Characters:

Betty (who is Rebekah Harkness)

James (Betty’s first boyfriend and husband who cheated on her multiple times)

The mistress

The other guy at the dance during mirrorball

Husband 2

Taylor (and Joe)

Order:

cardigan (young Betty, this is where our story starts, also Taylor helped by making this the first single): I will start by saying this song has numerous ties to Taylor’s life. “Vintage tee” references her 1989 era, “sequined smile, black lipstick, sensual politics” references her reputation era. This is Betty speaking, but Betty resembles Taylor a lot. And Betty is young and intelligent “when you are young they assume you know nothing.” Then we have “I knew you” immediately after “they assume you know nothing,” so Betty knows James is going to cheat on her. “Dancin’ in your Levis” sounds a lot like “dark jeans and you Nikes” from Delicate, so this resembles Taylor and Joe again. Taylor was obviously in a low time when she met Joe, feeling like “an old cardigan” but Joe saved her. Here, we learn that Betty was insecure and the attention from James made her feel loved. Then she references the cheating, foreshadowing the whole story “chase two girls, lose the one.” James cheats on Betty, and loses the one (a reference to the mistress, who James does not end up with. James and Betty end up getting married, but the mistress feels like James was her 1. This is also a reference to how James continues to cheat on Betty during their marriage and Betty leaves him, so he loses the one. Remember the difference in writing between the 1 and the one because it comes up in hoax, differentiating Betty and the mistress). “Playing hide-and-seek and giving me your weekends...once in twenty lifetimes” is still part of Betty and James’s story, the wonderful beginning of their relationship, but resembles Taylor and Joe secretly dating. Especially the “twenty lifetimes” part which is eerily reminiscent of “twenty seconds or twenty years” from Lover. “Kiss in cars and downtown bars” is also like Delicate again, and Joe clearly drew stars around Taylors scars. Betty is “bleeding now though, because James ends up cheating on her after having healed her. Betty saw that it would happen all along, and “tried to change the ending” by giving him multiple chances. “The ending”/“film”/“movie” will come up a lot. Betty takes James back because she knew that if she didn’t, James would “haunt all of my what-ifs.” She also knows she’d “curse him for the longest time,” which will come up again too. James comes back after cheating on Betty the first time (the events of the song betty) and is standing on her front porch.

mirrorball (Betty): This song is from Betty’s perspective, an innocent girl at a school dance who is highly insecure. She is on her “tallest tiptoes,” showing that she is balancing and about to fall over. We know this is Betty because she is ”spinning” on her “highest heels,” as referenced in the song cardigan. (There is also a reference to James being “the master of spin,” in mad woman, showing that she had fallen into his trap.) We know Betty will “change everything” about herself to fit in or make things work, showing her insecurity, vulnerability, and tendency to self-silence. So we can also see that she will take James back in the future even though she knows “the end is near.” “The end is near” because this is “where it all went wrong,” as James says in the song betty in reference to this dance. James stands her up (or so she thinks) at the dance, (“Your favorite song was playing, From the far side of the gym, I was nowhere to be found, I hate the crowds, you know that, Plus, I saw you dance with him” is James’s perspective of this event). So Betty dances with another guy, “trying everything to keep you looking at me.” So she is trying to make James jealous and prevent him from leaving or cheating on her, which she knows is about to happen (remember, she is intelligent/can see the future as stated in cardigan). We see that she is on a “tightrope,” showing the danger and fragility of her and the relationship. Now this next part is extremely important: “I’m still a believer but I don’t know why… all I do is try, try, try.” This will come up in hoax and this is me trying. It also shows her willingness to try to make this work when she knows it won’t.

august (the mistress): This song opens with “salt air, rust on your door,” two images that easily fit into a teenagers house in the summer. Keep in mind that “rust” comes up again in this is me trying and “salt air” could be a reference to the Rhode Island house, but we’ll worry about that later. I won’t stay long on this song because it is obviously the first affair when James cheats on Betty with the mistress. We see the car that’s referenced in Betty, blah blah blah. The mistress was living “for the hope of it all,” a clue that she is the singer of the 1.

betty (James): 17 year old James shows up asking for forgiveness from Betty after cheating on her in august with the mistress. James clearly really cares about Betty “When I passed your house it’s like I couldn’t breathe,” “I know I miss you,” “slept next to her but I dreamt of you all summer long,” and he’s planned this moment in his head. Hear is the first image of someone walking up to a door/waiting at a door and someone at a party that somehow doesn’t belong. I’m still a bit confused on these images because they repeat with different contexts and possible characters/scenarios… but this thing might not be a linear story so it’s okay. Important to note here: James did not know if Betty would take him back or tell him to go fuck himself. Betty, whose character we know to be insecure and overly forgiving, is obviously going to take him back, but James is terrible at reading her mind.

the 1 (the mistress, after James and Betty get married): “The greatest films of all time were never made,” is another reference to the “film,” “movie,” what have you. This film was NOT made though, referencing the mistress and James who never had a real relationship. It’s not that this film didn’t have an ending, it’s that it never existed at all. The mistress says James is “Having adventures on your own, you meet some woman on the internet and take her home.” This is not a reference to the woman whom James marries, but the extra-marital adventures he is having despite being married. The mistress used to be a part of these adventures, but now she’s not only not the wife, she’s not even the mistress. Further clues that this isn’t Betty: “We never painted by the numbers baby,” indicating that their relationship didn’t follow the rules. Also “roaring twenties,” could be a reference to august slipping “away like a bottle of wine.” But instead, the rosé is “flowing with your chosen family.”

illicit affairs (James, cheating on Betty during their marriage): Why “illicit” and not just “affairs”? Because Betty and James are now married, so this is even worse than him cheating on her when they were dating/together in high school. This song is much more adult and scary/paranoid than august or betty. This affair is serious and secretive and dangerous. “Keep your head down, “Tell your friends you were out for a run” have much more terrified tones than the way the first affair was talked about. James is an adult, this is during his marriage, and we know it’s him because he has cheated before, is still having “adventures” with an internet woman, and breaks the multiple chances that Betty gives him (evidence coming soon). Still trying to figure out “what started in beautiful rooms ends with meetings in parking lots.” Could be a reference to the second affair beginning in the rhode island mansion, but the timing doesn’t work out. “Meetings in parking lots” parallels “meet me behind the mall,” but that’s all I got. Now we have “a drug that only worked the first few hundred times,” proving that James keeps cheating and cheating. We also have “stolen stares, they show their truth one single time but they lie and they lie and they lie.” James tells Betty the truth about cheating once, during the events of betty. Then he continues to cheat and lie to her. He does this “a million little times,” mirroring the “million pieces” that Betty knows she will break into (when she falls off the tightrope) during mirrorball. It hasn’t been said yet, but Betty knows James is cheating and begins to mentally breakdown, becoming an alcoholic and almost committing suicide (see exile, this is me trying, and hoax for evidence, but I’m also not sure about the timeline).

exile (James, after Betty leaves him): It starts with James reliving the events of mirrorball in his head, watching her dance with the other guy, leaving him out in the hall with all his love (“I can see you standing, honey, With his arms around your body”). James has “seen this film before “and “didn’t like the ending” because he cheated on her and then she broke up with him (the first time). “You’re not my homeland anymore” and he is in “exile.” Betty cut him out and we see that James thinks of Betty as home (this will come up in my tears ricochet). Betty has given James “second, third, and hundredth chances,” showing that she did forgive him and he continued to cheat and she knew. Betty, who was walking on a “tightrope” earlier, falls on breaking branches and saying “those eyes add insult to injury,” referencing the stares from illicit affairs. James is blind-sighted by Betty leaving (remember during the events of betty, James is bad at reading her mind) “you never gave a warning sign.” Immediately after, Betty responds saying “I gave so many signs,” referencing her mental struggle and alcoholism? (coming in this is me trying) that he somehow never noticed. There is proof this is about James cheating because James says “I couldn’t turn things around…”

TLGAD (Betty/Rebekah Harkness, the timing I’m not sure of but I’ll explain): So this song is about Rebekah Harkness, which you can Wikipedia or Google to prove. Rebekah also went by Betty (Taylor’s mind wtf). Rebekah is a “middle-class divorcée, so she has left James at the time of this song and now lives in the Rhode Island mansion. She gets married again “the wedding was charming.” Then he mysteriously dies “it must have been her fault his heart gave out.” The words “loudest,” “shameless,” and “madest” appear in this song, so this is the woman from mad woman. Rebekah/Betty quickly “gave up” on the Rhode Island set, giving up on her new life/husband, throwing huge parties with her “Bitch Pack friends” where the pools are filled with champagne (sounds like reputation Taylor doesn’t it?). But this crazy woman is also known to be “seen on occasion pacing the rocks, staring out at the midnight sea” (see hoax and this is me trying). Then it becomes Taylor, who reveals that the Rhode Island house is now her Rhode Island house, and who draws connections between herself and Rebekah/Betty ruining everything. (From now on, I will refer to Rebekah/Betty as only Betty again.)

hoax (Betty suring the events of TLGAD): “My only one,” is a reference to James, the only man she ever loved. (Remember the 1 vs the one I talked about in cardigan? Also it doesn’t seem like she loved her second husband.) “This had broken me down,” refers to her mental downfall resulting in her alcoholism, leaving James, going wild at the Rhode Island house, and eventually ending up on the cliffside (Betty said in mirrorball when she breaks it’s in a million pieces). “Twisted knife,” is James stabbing her in the back by cheating multiple times. “Sleepless nights,” are the nights she has spent without him since, and are later referenced in my tears ricochet. She “stood on the cliffside screaming “Give me a reason.” She’s the woman from TLGAD and she’s so heartbroken without James that she almost kills herself. She still believes her and James could be together “Your faithless love’s the only hoax I believe in.” (Remember “I’m still a believer but I don’t know why” from cardigan?) Then we have a reason for why she goes back to James even when he has cheated on her “Don't want no other shade of blue but you, No other sadness in the world would do.” She’d rather be with a faithless lover than alone. Here comes her statement of blame: “I am ash from your fire,” which will come up in my tears ricochet. The “hero” from the “movie” comes back too: “You knew the hero died so what’s the movie for? You knew it still hurts underneath my scars.” We said that the movie is Betty and James’s relationship, but Betty knows that her old self, pure Betty, is dead (the old Taylor is dead? hmmmm). Then I get confused, “You knew the password so I let you in the door.” Could this be a reference to the first time James comes back to her and asks for forgiveness during the events of betty? Could the pure Betty/hero have died during the first affair, but is so insecure (which James knows, since he knows the password) that she lets him come back anyway? Also “scars,” anyone? That shit’s from cardigan too.

this is me trying (Betty, who comes back to James? Most of the events take place earlier in the story, but we need put the song here because she is reflecting back). So I’m struggling with when she became an alcoholic. Maybe it is after she left James and went to Rhode Island, because she says “I’ve been having a hard time adjusting.” This is Betty because she had the “shiniest wheels,” calling back to her being a shiny mirrorball. She has left James, but is going back to him “I didn’t know if you’d care that I came back, I have a lot of regrets about that.” She regrets leaving James, a CHEATER. This must be Betty, who gives this guy so many chances and still loves him despite him destroying her. Now Betty is “here in your doorway.” She says, “this is me trying” to make things work, to pick herself up again (Remember “all I do is try, try, try” from cardigan?). Then we have “all of my cages were mental, so I got wasted like all my potential” which resembles people calling her crazy in TLGAD and her new life being thrown away because she was mentally unstable. Keep “my words shoot to kill when I’m mad,” in mind for later. Betty was destined for a good life, being ahead of the curve and a sphere (mirrorball?) but she breaks and turns to a stranger (husband 2?). Then we know during her Rhode Island parties, she was thinking about James the whole time: “And it's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound, It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you, You're a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town.” Hello… “film,” “town,” “the one,” and “wound!” Then… “at least I’m trying,” because JAMES ISN’T TRYING HE KEEPS CHEATING!!! But Betty is back with James. (There is no happy ending though, because the “hero” is dead and Betty’s mental stability isn’t coming back.)

mad woman (Betty, after she is back with James): This has to be after TLGAD/this is me trying but before my tears ricochet. Betty goes back, but the relationship isn’t going to work. Betty is a mad woman: “Does a scorpion sting when fighting back? They strike to kill, and you know I will.” (like “my words shoot to kill when I’m mad” from this is me trying). Then we have “What do you sing on your drive home?” referencing the cars, affairs, and how when Betty is in the car, she stops at the lookout/cliffside instead of having affairs. Then we see Betty is mad… she asks if James sees “my face in the neighbor’s lawn?” as if she is spying on him? Or is she talking about the dog she dyed green, who represents the fact that she has gone mad? (They are at the Rhode Island house.) Then we see the callback to the first time James cheated when he was cared Betty would tell himm to fuck himself, but this time, Betty as a mad woman says “fuck you forever.” Now Betty is the one on fire “I breathe flames.” Then I get confused again. Betty says “It's obvious that wanting me dead, Has really brought you two together.” Obviously James is cheating again, but is this Betty being mad and over paranoid? James definitely doesn’t want Betty dead, which we see in my tears ricochet. I think this shows that Betty is really unhinged. Further proof that this is Betty and James: “I’m taking my time,” means she’s playing the “good” wife again, but the “master of spin has a couple of side flings.”

my tears ricochet (James is dead, and Betty is at his wake, but also Taylor and Big Machine Records): “Weeping in a sunlit room” could be a reference to the fact that they are in Rhode Island (“it was sunny” from TLGAD). James, who speaks from the grave, says “If I’m on fire, you’ll be made of ashes too,” saying that while he did something wrong, Betty is going to suffer too (for killing him? Also remember “I am ash from your fire,” from hoax). James acknowledges his wrongs, but indicates that Betty, as a mad woman, did something even worse: “And if I'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes, too Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe All the hell you gave me? 'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you 'Til my dying day.” So yeah, James is an asshole, but apparently he did care for Betty. James “didn’t have it in myself to go with grace,” so he cheated right up until the end. James is “dead to” Betty, who is clearly done with him for cheating all this time, but Betty is “at the wake” (because all this time, she really wanted things to work out too?). Betty is “cursing my name, wishing I stayed,” in reference to wishing James had never cheated and Betty knowing she’d “curse him for the longest time,” as stated in cardigan. James is dead and Betty is alive because the living character is wearing “the same jewels that I gave you,” right after the song mentions “diamonds.” Proof that her former husband is dead. (This doesn’t seem like husband #2 at all, especially because the dead character, James, says “I can go anywhere I want, just not home,” which sounds like a clear reference to exile to me.) He also says “when you can’t sleep at night you hear my stolen lullabies,” referencing “sleepless nights” from hoax, and the “lullabies” he should have sang her but that went to mistresses instead, hence being “stolen.” Then he says “You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same...drunk on this pain,” which sounds like him saying that Betty goes into a downward spiral (being a mad woman). And Betty, at least old, pure Betty, dies too, since James’s tears ricochet. (I’ve also read a theory that this is about Taylor’s struggle with Big Machine, but I can’t find that post.)

Anyway, I know some things don’t make sense. I’ve been writing this for five hours straight. This is just one interpretation. folklore is beautiful and Taylor is a masterpiece. Thanks for reading!

@taylorswift @taylorswift

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hubbytaeil · 3 years

Note

4, 23, 70 with doyoung

Doyoung + #4 I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified, #23 Can I kiss you?, #70 I know I should’t but I miss you

genre: angst

word count: 2308

summary: Doyoung thinks him disappearing from your life is best shot you have at happiness, until he is faced with the harsh reality.

ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗʷᵒ ˢˡᵒʷ ᵈᵃⁿᶜᵉʳˢ ˡᵃˢᵗ ᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵒᵘᵗ

There wasn’t any reason for Doyoung not to accept an invitation to dinner from you. In the few seconds it took him to read your message he seemed to forget how you didn’t talk for months after the announcement of your engagement. He had congratulated you, of course, even if the sight of the astounding rock adorning your hand had broken him down. Perhaps that was when Doyoung realised that, somewhere along the way, to him you had become more than a good friend.

The way your eyes gleamed while glancing at your future husband was the most beautiful yet heart-breaking scene Doyoung had ever witnessed. He truly was happy for you; he was glad to finally see you settling down. Yet, that night, there was bitterness in every sip of champagne, in every laughter exchanged, in every single look he would steal from you from across the table. He avoided the word ‘love’ at all costs when he would explain his situation to his friends, frightened that pronouncing it would make it real. It would’ve made the pain tangible; it would’ve pervaded every corner of his mind; it would’ve made him avoid every street where he could run into you. Doyoung cared for you, that never changed, but he also cared for his heart to remain intact. That night he had walked home alone, his phone in between his fingers, busy typing and deleting everything that would fill the empty message.

‘I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.’

Doyoung read the unsent message over and over, but the tipsiness didn’t get the best of him. He took pride in having chosen your happiness instead of his. He quickly deleted the draft. As he made his way down the street, he looked up at the starless sky. He was smiling but there were tears in eyes.

Doyoung could feel his every step get heavier and heavier. Why were you even meeting up in the first place? There were just unsolved questions clouding his mind. Moreover, he was troubling himself by what he was going to say. A part of him wanted to come clean, confess all of his burdens.

I know I shoudn’t but I miss you. That was going to be his opening line. Another part of him would never want you to be part of his despair. You were going to get married and have a beautiful life, it didn’t matter if Doyoung was not going to be in it. He stopped his grave walk when he reached the entrance of the restaurant. You could be seen through the massive glass windows, dressed in your favourite colour which made Doyoung smile to himself. You seemed nervous and it made him uneasy, but the thought of avoiding this encounter didn’t cross him mind long enough for him to turn it into reality. He was glad to finally spend some time with you and get his well-deserved closure.

So Doyoung walked in, like a soldier ready for war. When you raised your gaze to him the outcome of the battle was already decided. Doyoung would’ve lost.

The dinner went surprisingly well compared to Doyoung’s expectations, since you two had a lot to catch up on. He couldn’t help but notice how there were still some topics you hadn’t touched in the least. Not even once you had ever pronounced the words ‘marriage’, ‘fiancé’, ‘reception’ or anything of the sort. Doyoung was contempt enough in listening to your every word and every anecdote regarding work. He couldn't bring himself to bring up the questions he was dying to ask, especially not after seeing that you weren’t wearing your ring. Maybe you just preferred not to wear such an expensive ring all the time, he thought remembering how meticulous you were. Doyoung was sure that there was a logical explanation so he convinced himself not to think about it too much.

“And so, she stormed out of the classroom after I told her she was going to fail my class.”

“I didn’t take you for the teacher who made her students cry.” Doyoung joked after taking a sip of water.

“Well, crying won’t get her anywhere with me. I’ll give her three days before she comes back begging me to help her.” You asserted setting your fist on the table, trying to empathize your point.

“Is this how you treat your fiancé?” Doyoung laughed but this time you didn’t laugh with him. The comment had come out unexpectedly and he knew it was a mistake as soon as he looked at your eyes slowly losing their light. You stayed impassive for what felt like the longest seconds in Doyoung’s life. Silence, filled by the clicking of glasses and inaudible chatter that only amplified the gut feeling that something was wrong.

You gazed at your plate and then at Doyoung, beaming at him.

“That’s just how I treat everybody, you know me.”

Doyoung exhaled at your answer that only left him with more doubts. But he also was glad that those past months hadn’t thrown your friendship in the scrapheap. You know me. He repeated those words in his head over and over. Yes, I know you.

“Jungwoo told me he saw you the other day.” Doyoung quickly tried to change the subject, clearly, he hadn’t succeeded in doing so. You let out an embittered chuckle.

“Did he tell you why he saw me?”

Needless to say, Doyoung was starting to break a sweat as he felt like you were a riddle impossible to solve.

“No, actually he didn’t. Did something happen?” He stressed the last sentence as much as he could, as if to say you can tell me anything, you know it. He kept his eyes on you for as long as he could, afraid of your every movement. Afraid that you might even dissolve into thin air if he looked away for too long.

“I called him to help me move out.”

“But I thought you already lived with Jaehyun.” You smiled at yourself, not looking directly at the man sitting in front of you, setting your eyes on the hands of the bartender pouring bourbon inside an old man’s glass. Doyoung was a good a person, you always knew that, someone who always looked at the bright side of things. A person that, when tragedy stroked, was ready to sweep away the broken pieces.

“Oh.” Doyoung finally saw the bigger picture and felt a little ashamed, even if all he did was just not running directly to worst case scenario.

“Yeah, it was pretty rough. But don’t worry, we’re on good terms now. I got a nice new apartment all by myself, nice view and all.” You were smiling, yet the curve of your lips looked like scar. Doyoung’s heart was pounding restlessly in his chest at the thought of you going through that awful situation alone. He remembered that incredible woman he had saw months prior at her engagement party. He couldn’t see her anymore and it made him weak.

“Are you going to be okay?” Doyoung took your hand in his, noticing how cold it was. He observed how you studied that small gesture of sympathy. He wondered if someone had even asked you a question like that lately.

“I will try.” That response was enough for Doyoung, you were still the person he had grown to love. He was determined to keep what was left of your fire alive.

“I know you will.” Doyoung’s grip tightened softly. “I know you.”

Doyoung agreed on getting some fresh air after dinner.

You had gone past the uncomfortable conversation about how Jaehyun had realised only after popping out the question that he wasn’t ready for marriage.

“Well, he always looked kind of indecisive.”

“I guess we got the final proof.” It was wonderful for Doyoung to hear your laughter again, even when it came from a place of self-pity.

“I know someone has probably said this to you already, but he doesn’t know what he’s missing.” Doyoung affirmed, as sternly as he could. He saw you curiously eyeing at him, then you delicately put your arm in his.

“Actually, you’re the first one to say that. Thank you.” you stated, hiding a hint of melancholy in your voice. Doyoung kept you at his side, walking with you along the river promenade. How lucky he felt to be with you like this, he questioned how someone could simply let go such a wonderful person.

“Why did you never reach to me after... you know...” you suddenly asked leaving Doyoung dumbstruck.

“I just... thought you’d be too busy.”

“For seven months?” he was taken back by your precise memory, then he remembered who he was talking to.

“You didn’t reach out to me either.” Doyoung pointed out.

“I was going to... but then one day I saw you on the street.”

Doyoung got a lump in his throat.

“I called your name and you turned the other way.” your voiced trembled. Your steps stopped; you were now face to face. Doyoung couldn’t run away anymore.

“Y/n...”

“Was it something I said? Something I’ve done? Please Doyoung, I’ve been torturing myself for months, thinking about what I could’ve done wrong.” Cold tears made their way across your cheeks. As Doyoung witnessed this he couldn’t help feel ashamed. He had been haunting your mind, while all he had done was pushing you away. He put a hand on his mouth overwhelmed by everything that was being uncovered.

“You did nothing wrong, y/n.” his voice wasn’t stable, another word and he knew it would’ve been the end.

“Then why do you hate me?!” you sobbed, unable to contain yourself. You went on, uttering sentences, that would lose their direction in the middle, on how bad you had felt when Doyoung had stopped talking to you, how terribly alone and humiliated you had felt when Jaehyun had called off the engagement while you were visiting your family, how you wished you could’ve just called him during that awful period, until all one could hear were broken sobs. That’s when Doyoung broke.

“It was too painful knowing that you were someone else’s!” Doyoung shouted, fists tight as tears rolled down his face as well.

“I couldn’t bear the thought of you walking down the aisle to a man that wasn’t me, I thought it would’ve been better to step aside. But I never hated you, I could never. God, I could never hate you. And now I realise how my decision has hurt the both of us.”

Your sobs slowly ceased, Doyoung tried to make sense of your reaction. You stood there in front of him, wiping your cheeks, hesitant on what to say. Doyoung’s head lowered, feeling guilty for the pain he had caused you.

“Why didn’t you tell me right away?” you finally spoke but he still couldn’t look at you in the eyes.

“It was too late when I realised how I felt about you.” He sighed turning to the side, his dark eyes reflecting in the city lights.

“How late?” you almost chuckled at the last word but you refrained yourself.

“On the day you announced that you were getting married.” He noticed your body getting stiff at the confession.

“Doyoung...”

“You looked so beautiful, so happy. I wish had taken a picture, Jesus. After I saw that ring on your finger, I just wanted to disappear. But I only caused you pain and-”

You wrapped your arms around him before he could finish his sentence and tear up again. You held him closely, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“You suffered too Doyoung. God, I feel so stupid.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I should’ve known.”

You stayed entangled, in between sobs and a few reassuring words. It felt like putting together the broken pieced again. Doyoung eventually leaned back and look at you as you attempted to fixed your now ruined make up. He chuckled softly telling you that there was no need and that you looked gorgeous either way. His tender smile was replaced by a shocked expression when you pressed your palm on his cheek. When he perceived you leaning forward his mind went blank. Before you could get any closer you stopped.

“Can I kiss you?” you whispered gently and he thought it was all a dream. If he had rubbed his eyes he would’ve woken up, you would’ve been no longer close enough for him to hear your heartbeat. Therefore, he could only bring his hand on your waist and wrap you even closer to him and hope that he would never wake up. You smiled tenderly after getting his permission. Slowly you united your lips in a sweet peck. It wasn’t a dream. His grip on you was firm as your lips passionately let go of all their fears, of all the unspoken secrets. Doyoung took his time with you, rejoicing in every kiss, making them last for as long as he could. It was home. It was the right place to be. You delivered one sweet kiss before leaning back to admire Doyoung’s peaceful expression.

“What happens now?” Doyoung asked, caressing your lower back. What happens now? You hand travelled to his chest so that he could squeeze you in even tighter.

“I don’t know.” You aligned his face to his, your noses touching. “But that’s not necessarily a bad thing. We can decide. So how about we start over?”

Doyoung beamed at you looking like the happiest man who had ever walked the Earth. He freed himself from your embrace, leaving rather disoriented.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Doyoung.” he exclaimed, putting his hand forward. You wasted no time before shaking it.

“Nice to meet you too, I’m y/n.”

#doyoung au #doyoung scenarios #doyoung imagines #doyoung drabbles #nct au #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct drabble #doyoung angst #doyoung fluff #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct dream imagines #kim doyoung

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four-rabbit · 3 years

Text

Game Night

I don’t really know what this is, I’m just glad I was finally able to finish a sanders sides’ fanfic for the first time.

This fanfic was born from the last video, obviously, and the realization that the creativity twins canonically feel physical pain when their ideas are desregard or their function is “offended” let’s say, which I had to exagerate and turn int angst, of course, so enjoy!

Summary: Remus get sick so frequently that those nights have became his idea of a sleepover.

Ship: platonic dukeceit. Or romantic. You can interpret it however you want

Characters: Remus Sanders, Virgil Sanders and Janus Sanders

Warnings: swearing, kinda grapphic descriptions of pain and sickness, mentions to vomit. Also maybe some umsympathetic Virgil? I don’t see it like that, but I guess it depends on how you interpret it.

Word Count: 1729

Sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language

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

If Remus was real, he would be dead.

And if snakes could demonstrate worry, they would make exactly the same expression that Janus had after looking at the thermometer.

"How do you manage to get so bad so quickly?"

"What can I say, being bad is the only thing I'm good at" Remus joked, the words scratching his throat as an unwanted cough came with them. Janus rolled his eyes, trying to seem calm. And falling.

"Any idea what was the cause this time?" Remus' focus went down to the old and familiar sheet, which he fiddled with, avoiding the question.

"How hot am I?" He vaguely pointed to the thermometer.

"You have a 113°F fever"

"Well, fuck. That's a new record" he touched his own forehead, smiling almost maniacally right after "Shit. How long do you think it takes until my brain melts?

"Bold of you to assume it hadn't already" Virgil was the one to answer, entering the room with a bowl of hot soup in his hands.

"Wow Virgil, that was fast " Janus lied, raising an eyebrow. "What happened?"

"I was trying to actually cook something real for once"

"Please don't tell me your burned the kitchen" the half-snake child replied, with some amount of actual fear behind the dramatic hand to his chest and horrified expression.

"Ha ha" pause "...not on purpose" Virgil replied, looking away.

"Yeah, that's my job!"

"Remus, eat your soup, the grownups are talking" the embodiment of Fear interrupted jokingly, even though any of them was older then twelve. Then he turned to Janus again, already guessing what he was going to say "but... it's fine now. I took care of it" Janus made a mental note to go take a look at the damage as fast as possible. They could all be kids, but Janus knew very well he was the only responsible there.

"I don't like it...!" Creativity replied, sounding like a child who doesn't want to eat salad. Janus sighed as his thoughts were interrupted, conjuring a bottle of perfume and poured it in the meal.

"Now eat" and so he did. Virgil raised an eyebrow, but he was smiling, trying not to be so worried. Or at least not demonstrate it. After so many times, he should be used to it, but... well, he was Fear. It was his job to keep track of the worst case scenarios.

"Did he get better?"

"On the contrary. The fever is higher than ever"

"And I also feel like someone ripped my bones out of my skin and then put them back, but like... in the wrong way" Remus added, spilling hot soup all over the sheet and his clothes by trying to communicate with his mouth full.

"So it's one of those nights" Virgil mumbled.

"I'm afraid so"

Remus finished his soup smiling like there was no tomorrow, opening his arms despite how much that simple gesture hurted "Game night while I'm dying!" Janus smiled, with more sadness in his eyes than anything else.

"I'll get the monopoly"

•••

"I won"

"No, you did fucking not" Remus immediately answered, not even looking away from his cards.

"You can see for yourself" Janus showed his game, which clearly meant a victory, indeed. Remus tossed his cards on the sheet like it was their fault. He was so fucking close!

"You cheated" Virgil said sharply, as if it was an undeniable fact.

"Do you have any proof? Janus challenged, not losing a beat or his mischievous smile.

"Yeah. It's the only thing you know how to do" the teenager replied, his tone as cold as a lake in the winter. Janus looked down before he could help himself. Couldn't he keep it down for at least one night? The night Remus needed both of them?

The cards caught fire. It was an accident, but Remus decided to go with that, jumping out of the sheets, trying to ignore the terrible twist that movement gave to his stomach. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he threw up. At least that way these two would stop fucking fighting.

"What the hell?!" Virgil exclaimed, tossing his game away like it was burning. Which was the case, indeed.

"Let's watch a horror movie!" Well, he got their attention.

"Did you need to burn things before saying that?!" Virgil screamed. He was standing and seemed even more distressed.This was a mistake, Janus realized. It was foolish to think they could ignore their differences for the sake of Remus.

"It's more fun this way! What can it be? One of the classics? Some shitty obscure one?" He kept trying, getting out of bed and walking toward Virgil, who walked away from him. Janus immediately got up too, already anticipating the disaster that situation could turn to. A worst one. Because it was already a disaster.

"Please, control yourselves"

"I'm controlled! I'm not the one burning things" Virgil replied, the trace of the tempestuous tongue in his voice proving that he was anything but in control.

"Remus, please. Apologize for burning the cards"

"It's just some stupid paper!

"Now"

"It was a fucking accident"

"We all know it wasn't" Janus almost, almost told Virgil to shut up after that. But he didn't need to make things worse than they already were.

"It was a fucking accident" his voice started getting threatened, his eyes started shining with a red danger "But you know what wouldn't be a fucking accident? if I..." his vision went black, a headache that felt like someone had opened his skull being everything that existed and then not even that.

Anxiety got out of the room immediately after his friend fainted, keeping his gaze to the ground, knowing that he wouldn't be able to stand any amount of time alone with Deceit.

•••

Remus wished he was real, so he would be dead.

He felt like someone had catched his body on fire, then hit his head with an axe, then exchanged his blood for poison and his bones with knives.

"I knew you were stupid, but not stupid enough to try and suggest an idea for Thomas. On your own. After terrorizing him the whole night. Literally hours after recovering from your last..." Janus looked down at his friend, in one of the only moments he didn't try to hide his emotions. Fear. Somebody had to fill the vacancy now that Virgil is gone, I suppose.

"It was..." He coughed blood. "A good idea"

"Oh yeah, I'm sure he thought the same" Janus rolled his eyes. Remus tried to say that he would be fine, but his throat still hurt from the acid of his stomach and the scratching of his coughs.

"I told you to not do anything too dangerous. We are..." he looked down to his gloves which, as he knew, covered up for the scales that apparently had decided that half of his face was not punishment enough. "In a delicate situation, now that..."

"The emo is gone. I know" Remus completed, his voice not much more than a whisper.

"Oh please, no. We are better off without him haunting us all day. If he prefers to deal with them, the only thing I feel is pity" anyone else would have believed that. Remus knew it was bullshit the second those words left his mouth. But he didn't say that. Mostly because he was feeling nauseous again and he learned that, apparently, people don't like if you throw up while trying to talk to them.

Janus stayed in silence for a couple more seconds, then something changed in his eyes and he got up.

"Well, if you need me, I'll be reading" said, but before he could go too far, Remus grabbed the bottom of his coat, deciding to make use of his positions of creativity, as with a snap of his fingers green words appeared in the air:

"It's game night, not a fucking book club"

"I don't think you're able to play games right now"

"I've never been better in my entire fucking life"

The words glitched as his consciousness stumbled.

"Remus"

"You've been reading, studying, planning, whatever every fucking time we were together" he finally was able to find his voice again "Is it me, Virgil, or just you being a dick?

"You need to rest"

"I'm gonna vomit on your shoes"

Janus sighed, sitting again on the bed.

"What do you propose?"

"Truth or dare" Janus never plays truth or dare. The two of them, Virgil and Remus, would play it at any given opportunity, on the other hand.

"Don't test me"

Floating words again: "I'm gonna take it easy"

"You never take it easy."

Remus frowned.

"Ok" the half-snake man sighed "let's find a compromise: I can play Never Have I Ever"

Remus smiled diabolically. So they had a deal.

•••

"Finally! It's been so long since our last sleepover!"

"This is anything but a sleepover" Janus replied, not looking away from his book.

"Yes it is! We're sleeping together not in a sexual way and wearing pajamas.

"I'm not-" Remus snapped his fingers and suddenly Janus had a yellow onesie on. "...I'm not having a sleepover with you. And you're not even that bad"

"But I'll be. And in the meantime... Please play truth or dare with me just this time please please" he said in one breath.

"You already know my opinion about this game"

"I know that you like it! You would always laugh and even participate when me and Virgin played!" Janus flinched.

"That was a long time ago"

"Just two rounds!"

"I..."

"C'mon! You're not gonna lose an arm if you play just one time. And even if you did, you would still have five perfectly good ones left"

Janus hesitated. He knew Remus would get worse. It was obvious by the tiredness in his voice, even when he was so excited. And how pale he was. How deep his eyeshadow appeared, making him seem like a dead body.

He sighed. Remus smiled from ear to ear. Literally.

"Truth or dare?!" Asked as if he was a child whose birthday had come earlier.

"Dare, obviously" Janus said, unable to stop himself from smiling at his friend's happiness, even though they both knew it wouldn't last long.

But that was okay. Because they would have one another. And that was enough. It had to be.

#sanders sides #fanfic #dukeceit #tw swearing #tw vomit #tw sickness #remus sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #rabbit writes

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fanfoolishness · 4 years

Text

on the subject of rocks (SUF)

Steven and Jasper have a long-overdue conversation. Set two years after SUF, canon-compliant. A little angst, a lot of hope. ~2500 words.

***

Steven is eighteen years old when he decides he wants to try to speak with her again.

If she wants to, that is.

He thinks he’s ready. He thinks the conversation might dim the feeling of her fragments cutting into his palm, the weight of his crime crushing his heart, his gut, his gem. Therapy has helped a great deal. But there are still nights he wakes up panting, remembering what it felt like to let go, to hurt, to shatter, and he wonders.

If Jasper has the same terrible memories, the same haunting, then maybe they should talk about it.

He talks with Dr. Boverman for hours. He wants to be sure this is right. Not just for him, but he wants to make sure this won’t damage her further than he already has. They go round and round. They’ve spoken of so many things, old wounds that pierced and bled and fractured, but most of those wounds were done to him.

The blood on his hands is less than he’d once feared it was, but it still doesn’t scrub clean.

“It will always be with you,” Dr. Boverman’s calm voice says. “You shattered Jasper. You didn’t intend to, but it’s what happened.”

“I know,” says Steven, and the thought no longer incapacitates him with shame. It was terrible, violent, the worst possible action committed at nearly his lowest point. But he accepts it, now, accepts that this will stay with him always. That it should.

And yet --

He and Dr. Boverman strategize. Roleplay. Hours of scenarios, how to accept if she never wants to talk to him again, what to do if Jasper says she isn’t ready, what to do if she lashes out, what to do if she fights him, what to do if she bends her hands into the Diamond salute. Each scenario frightens him at first, sends his heart racing. The first time they talked about it he glowed pink again for the first time in months. But the terror fades a little every time they speak, and several weeks later, he thinks he might be ready.

***

Little Homeworld is always different and always the same. It’s a comforting flow of change, new Gems appearing each time he visits, old teachers moving on. His family is still there, of course, and he has plans to catch up with them tomorrow. But today -- today he wants to know if this is the right time.

If there will ever be a right time. And if there isn’t, he thinks he can make his peace with that.

He finds Jasper sitting on a fallen log at the edge of the forest, alone as he’d expected she would be. A sketchbook sits in front of her, colored pencils at her side. His footsteps crunch on autumn leaves.

“Jasper?” he asks hesitantly, ten feet away.

She turns to look at him, her form unchanged from the last time he saw her, the stripe through her eye disrupted, her horn broken. So she hadn’t gone to Yellow, then. A thread of fear mixed with guilt begins unspooling within him. Maybe he wasn’t ready after all.

Jasper snorts, a gruff smile spreading over her face. “I wondered if you’d stop by, one of these days. I heard some of the others say you were coming into town.”

“Hi,” says Steven hesitantly. He takes a deep breath, remembering his strategies. “I -- I’d like to ask you something, Jasper.”

“Shoot,” she says in disinterest, picking up a pencil. She makes scratchy marks against the sketchbook paper, scribbles he can’t quite make out.

He edges closer. “I was wondering… I’ve done a lot of thinking.”

“Sounds like you.”

Despite himself, he chuckles slightly. “All right, fair.”

“Thinking about what?” she asks.

“About you,” says Steven honestly. “And me. What I did to you. What we did to each other.” He lets out a long, tremulous sigh, returning mentally to his gemstone, taking deep breaths with his diamond as his anchor. “And I wanted to see if you wanted to talk about it. It’s okay if you don’t, or if you want me to leave you alone.” Breath. Another. “I’m so sorry, Jasper.”

She glances up at him, giving him an odd look, then gestures beside her with a powerful shoulder. “Go on. Sit down, already.”

No ‘my Diamond.’ He’s more relieved than he’d expected to be. He sets down his bag and sits down on the ground, resting against the log instead of sitting on top of it with her. He sinks into the soft loam, leans against the fallen trunk. It’s more comfortable than it looks. A few feet between them seem like miles, or inches, he isn’t sure.

Jasper regards him coolly, tilting her head slightly to one side. “Why’d you really come here?”

“To talk to you,” says Steven, his hands folded and calm in his lap, his breathing slowing. “You told me once that I was the one who needed help. I’ve been getting it.”

“Told you,” she says, but there’s no gloating in her voice. She purses her lips, face tensed in concentration. At last she says, “So have I.”

He blinks, hands coming apart, fingers falling open. He raises his head and gazes up at her, wondering if he’s heard her right. “You have?”

“You told me to do something better with my life,” says Jasper, picking up her sketchbook. At this angle he can see what she’s drawn. It’s a rock -- what was it with her and rocks -- but a tenderly realized rock, craggy edges shaded in carefully, mosses and lichens rendered in textured shades of green and brown.

“Jasper, that’s -- that’s really beautiful,” says Steven. He’s been working on his art, too, but he’s no good at the type of delicate detail work laced into her sketch. “Who taught you?”

“Ruby,” she says. She sets the pencil down beside her, hands tensing on the sketchbook. “I don’t go to Lapis’ classes.”

“Right.” Part of him is saddened to hear it. Another part of him is grateful for Lapis’ sake. He wonders which of them he’s most like. “It seems like you’ve really taken to Little Homeschool. I’m glad for you.”

A small scoff of a laugh, but it softens at the end into something more like a real smile. Jasper shakes her hair, its white strands catching in the dappled sunlight beneath the trees. She looks… calm, like this, and it’s not a state he ever remembers seeing her in before.

“What about you?” she asks suddenly.

“I’m doing well,” he replies, still shocked that they’re talking at all. It’s going far better than most of the scenarios he’d practiced with Dr. Boverman. “I visit with my family every couple of weeks. I’ve been spending a lot of time in cities lately. All the noise and hustle and bustle… it’s different, sometimes it’s overwhelming, but I like the energy. It’s… good. It’s really good. Connie and I meet up every week. And I talk to my therapist.”

“What’s that?”

“A therapist? Um… it’s like a healer for human minds. But it’s not instant, like with Diamond powers. It takes time. A long time.” He gives her a small smile. “Sometimes it’s two steps forward, one step back, but overall, I’m feeling a lot better than… before.”

Jasper considers his words. She leans down, and he realizes a shiny blue beetle is crawling over the tip of her boot. He tenses, waiting.

Jasper watches the beetle go, making no further move toward it. It ambles away peacefully.

“You are not my Diamond,” she says into the silence.

“No,” he agrees, and something inside of him unclenches. “I -- I’m a Diamond. But mostly I’m just Steven.”

“I hated you for so long.”

He fights an urge to be sarcastic, to bite back at her. This doesn’t sound… angry. He keeps quiet, and lets her speak.

Her hand clenches into a fist, heavy against her thigh. “I thought that if you could stop being weak, if I could make you stronger, I would have my Diamond again. My purpose. Someone to protect, someone to serve.”

She stares into the woods, and he remembers his hands and legs awash in pink, the glow as he tore through the trees beneath a starry sky. He remembers jagged laughter, his gem humming, a power crueler than he’d ever felt before --

“I know.”

“Don’t ‘I know’ me when I’m talking to you,” she snaps. “I’m trying to -- arrgh. I thought this would be easier.”

“You thought what would be easier --” he starts to ask.

“You know. Talking. Ugh. It’s nothing like a good fight. The target keeps changing.” She crosses her arms, still staring off into the trees. The sun shifts overhead, casting her face in shadow.

“That’s called a conversation,” he says gently. “Battles are battles, but a hard conversation… it can hurt.”

“Now you tell me,” says Jasper, and it takes him a solid minute before he realizes it’s a joke. He laughs, but it’s too late, and Jasper shakes her head. “Look. Steven. I -- I’m sorry.” The words are hasty and fumbled and fast, but he catches them, barely.

“You’re sorry?” Steven yelps. “But I’m the one who shattered you.” It still comes out like a dirty word, almost two years later. He wonders if he’ll ever be able to fully say it, if he’ll ever be able to act like it hasn’t scarred him. He hopes not. “I’m the one who should be apologizing to you.”

“You have. Just now, and before,” she says, shrugging. “But I only said I’d teach you to get you to fight me. And you did. And I lost.”

“Because I lost myself, I lost who I was, you didn’t make me --”

“But you were off-color,” growls Jasper. “You were -- what do you humans call it again --?”

“Sick,” he says softly. Such a small word. It barely begins to cover everything that went wrong two years ago, but he knows CPTSD won’t mean a thing to her, and that’s okay, that’s not what he’s here for.

“Sick,” she repeats. “And I --” She digs her hands into the tree bark, small flakes of it crumbling beneath her shaking hands. “I made you worse. So that I could get something I wanted. I failed to protect my Diamond from myself.”

“Jasper --” he gasps. “You’ve been blaming yourself? For me shattering you?”

“Someone’s got to do it,” she huffs.

He rubs the back of his neck with his hand, tries to take another deep breath, reminds himself to return to the thought of his gem as a centering point. He can do this. He can do this. It’s just, this isn’t how he thought it would go at all.

He closes his eyes. Remembers the way she screamed at him, punches in the gut, the face, the sides. Remembers the way she goaded, the way she pressed, how proud she looked of how frightening he’d become. He doesn’t know what to say. “I -- I was sick,” he manages finally. “I -- you’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

He shakes his head at that. “But I’m still the one who did it. I still have to take responsibility for hurting you,” he demands.

Jasper gives him an appraising look. “Hmph,” she says, and he doesn’t know if it’s a hmph of agreement or a hmph of disdain. It’s hard to tell with Jasper. She holds the silence an uncomfortably long time before she says, “Maybe.”

“This isn’t how -- I wanted you to be mad at me,” Steven admits. “I wanted you to be pissed off! To tell me to get away from you!”

“I can still do that,” says Jasper, apparently turning the thought around in her mind. She chuckles, very slightly. “But if that’s an order, I’m ignoring it.”

He laughs. “You’re full of surprises, Jasper.”

“Am not.”

“You kind of are.”

“Don’t be so surprised then.” She picks up her pencil, returning to her sketch. Grass starts to grow beneath her rock, verdant blades springing up from dark soil.

“I thought you hated the local ecosystem.”

“It has its functions,” says Jasper begrudgingly. “If I leave the grass it provides better contrast for the rocks.” She picks up a different shade of green, adding highlights. “It’s still puny. But it has a purpose of its own.”

“What’s yours?” he asks, then kicks himself for getting so personal.

“Only if you tell me what yours is.”

Two years ago, the request would have paralyzed him. Two years ago, he’d have panicked, spun out with a lie, tried his best not to think about who he was and what he was supposed to do.

He just smiles. Breathes in the fresh green air, so different from the machine-smell of the big city. Beneath the green there’s a hint of salt, the promise of the sea. It smells like home.

“My purpose is to be Steven,” he says simply. “To be myself. To grow and change. To love myself, regrets and all.”

“Sounds all right,” says Jasper begrudgingly. “Sort of like mine these days.” She turns to him, frowning. “You got something to write on?”

“Uh, let me see.” He rummages in his bag. “Oh hey! I have my sketchbook, too.”

“Well?” Jasper says, pointing to the boulder before her. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

He flips through his sketchbook, passing pages of silly Connie faces, a self-portrait in pink and white, Lion poses, CPH classic fanart. He settles on a blank page and Jasper shoves a green pencil into his hand. He feels smooth wood, the lightness of the organic drawing implement rounded and gentle in his palm. No sharp edges, no jagged fragments, no terrible weight dragging his clenched hand into the hot water. He blinks back tears.

The sunlight shifts, the golden hour arriving, brilliant light shafting through the leaves above and lining the forest floor in spun-gold glory. His hands don’t quite have this kind of magic in them, but he tries his best, his drawing including sketches of the rock, the grass, the trees beyond them. He adds a gleaming line of yellow at the edges. He’ll show it to Dr. Boverman at their next appointment.

“Not bad,” says Jasper, peering over his sketchbook. “You added the trees.”

“It just felt more complete that way,” he says. He glances at her drawing. The rock is resplendent, resting on gold-touched grass, light captured in patches against the mosses and lichens. “You can see all of this? It’s incredible, Jasper.”

“It’s just what it looks like,” she says stubbornly. “It’s a good challenge.”

“Like a conversation,” he says, half to himself.

“Something like that.” The breeze flutters past them, carrying faint birdsong, the far-off scent of the sea.

“Thanks for talking with me, Jasper. I know you didn’t have to.”

“Of course. I do what I want,” she replies, and her voice is gentler than he’s ever heard it.

#steven universe future #steven universe #suf #jasper #steven universe jasper #do not tag as ship!#the future #suf spoilers #steven universe spoilers #steven universe future spoiler #fanfoolishness' steven universe fic #fanfoolishness steven universe fic #fragments

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bbq-hawks-wings · 3 years

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I can't believe I didn't think the todo/endev stuff would've been divisive. Like if you don't like it then that's it, you just personally don't want to see it, that's valid, but then you have some ppl calling ppl who do like it and even hori abuse apologists (despite some of them being survivors themselves) but THen you have ppl on the other side insulting those who can't stomach it and, why is this all a thing.

CW/ abuse mention

I'm not all that surprised it stirs up such intense reactions. Unlike saving the world or becoming a hero, the struggle of a household and each of its members healing from a horribly abusive past, complete with all its uncomfortable, different, ugly blistering wounds and scars is way too close to home for a lot of people. Even for those who may have never experienced the same "severity" (in quotes because comparing trauma to silence or talk over victims of any kind is not okay - different forms of abuse is still abuse that leaves lasting impacts and effects everyone differently) they can feel personally connected to that pain.

I'm not surprised whatsoever that Endeavor is such a controversial figure. I would argue that's a good thing. If we come to love his character after lots of growth it's because he's really changed in the ways he's needed to and continuing on that road. If we can't ever get past what he did it's still justified because he's legitimately left the lives of his entire household in shambles - a home full of people who his chief responsibility was to love, provide for, and protect - who will carry the scars (some literal) of what he's done for the rest of their lives.

What surprised me most, however, is how Dabi became to be such a chief spokesperson for the entire family despite being the most removed as far as attitudes towards Endeavor and his actions in response; and how he became the only "valid" victim for so many.

I absolutely pity what he went through. He was absolutely right to feel abandoned. He was abused as much as anyone in that household. His trauma was just as real, just as impactful, and just as valid as the rest. All of his childhood trauma was a result of his father's actions of which Endeavor does need to face and account for. Even his desire to lash out at the objects of his father's affection - his mother and siblings - as a child as a way in his mind to make the pain stop and regain what he legitimately needed in his father's attention and affection is understandable given the circumstances. He's very much damaged, and the onset of that damage is not his fault. He desperately needed help he never got.

But here's where the split happens: at a point he was removed from his family and their influence and became his own person at which point he decided to step on the gas and purposely cause collateral damage on top of the self-destruction.

To be clear, simply leaving that harmful environment and growing up does not erase the damage it caused. PTSD would not be a thing of that was the case. However, Dabi is in one of two states given his behavior: he's genuinely insane (mentally ill to point he doesn't recognize what he's doing - a justified legal defense of insanity) or he's at least lucid enough to know and purposely chose to inflict harm on others because of whatever benefit he feels he gets from it (not able to plead insanity).

Either way, he's a clear danger to himself and others and needs to be reigned in. If he's not in full control of his faculties he needs professional help and has to be taken into custody for everyone's safety. If he is all there, it's right for him to be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law because trauma does not excuse making more victims of any kind.

And for some reason, despite these facts well being able to coexist, the fandom doesn't seem to accept that - at least not uniformly and the disparity of opinion is night and day. We have real life examples of people who went through traumatic childhoods who became serial killers, and we don't disagree that they needed to be institutionalized or prosecuted for the safety of the public and their survivors; but Dabi gets a pass somehow?

Perhaps the main divide comes down to some can't/don't/won't make a distinction between Touya the abuse victim and Dabi the abuser. Both can and do exist in the same person, but the focus of his life's goal has shifted to be distinct enough to make that distinction as the audience. As a child, he was a victim who was doing everything he could think to do to get what he needed in a horrible situation. As an adult with ample degree of rational thought and self-awareness, he leverages his damage to justify the homicide he commits against his own victims.

And this especially is why I have pity for Touya, but not for Dabi.

I knew someone who did that - who did that to me. Someone who I considered a friend, even "family" until I set boundaries and started acting contrary to what they wanted when it was like a switch went off inside them. They had a legitimately terrible upbringing and a questionable family situation, at best; but that didn't mean I had to suffer the effects those negative influences splashed into my life.

If something I did made them upset and what they only ever knew was to verbally express, "You're lucky I have the control to hit the wall instead of you when I get this upset" that anger is valid, but I was also right to say, "If this is a problem, I'll do what I can to make it right on my end, but you do not have the right to threaten me, emotionally manipulate me, or lash out in retaliation - and especially not without consequences or pushback. You need help, and I want to help you help yourself; but that was not acceptable. I am responsible for me and what I do, not for how you take things and respond."

It boils my blood thinking back how often they tried to peddle back and make me the bad guy in my own head by trying to guilt me with their own tragic backstory so I'd stay complicit. Clearly, I'm still not completely over it, and I was unpleasantly reminded of it not long ago when nightmares with their face came back to haunt me for the first time in years after just seeing their name again in passing earlier that day. It took a complete stranger I met at a house party telling me after I spilled my guts late into the night for me to even begin to recognize that I was being manipulated and abused.

So yeah, there it is yet again - the Todofam drama is way too close to home for too many people. The worst tragedy in that, though, is that no one can apparently be validated in their opinions unless they bare themselves like I did just now. That shouldn't be the case. These discussions should be able to exist as hypotheticals and discussing canon events instead of requiring everyone who wants to weigh in to have their own trauma validated.

It's easy to pile onto Endeavor because he's the clear "bad guy" in the scenario who will never be able to erase what he's done even if all of his family magically forgave him and he turned into the patron saint of puppies and kittens. But for some reason it's not easy to recognize people can feel the same way about Dabi who can recognize him for being both victim and victimizer.

I wish it wasn't the case. There's a lot of right and wrong and stuff that isn't wrong - just uncomfortable and sucky in this subplot; but fandom is too stuck on insisting in an all or nothing bad guy/good guy to fully appreciate the nuance in this plotline.

#tw abuse #cw abuse

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qwirk · 3 years

Text

*vigilantes ch. ~64 and main manga ch. ~255 spoilers*

although idk if these are really spoilers if these chapters came out a couple years ago! anime-only fans beware. anyway here’s my extremely long rant about the obvious, not trying to explain anything- i gotta yell!

so that vigilantes arc destroyed me! i’m not good at immediately putting thoughts about media into coherent points but i’m just so sad :( first of all after catching up with the main manga, shirakumo, despite being technically dead during his introduction, rocketed up to one of my favorite if not my favorite character. aizawa is also up there for me- he was first introduced as this strict teacher who seemed to psychologically torment his students for the fun of it, or at least for some yet unknown ulterior motive. but we now know that, while still kinda harsh, he does this to give his students that lead-dropping-in-the-pit-of-your-stomach rush in order to push them to succeed (or something like that?). he truly cares about his students and their growth which has been demonstrated multiple clear times. but what drives him to be like this??

shirakumo!! his actions today are a clear answer to the pushes shirakumo gave him back when they were students. they’re so obviously influenced by shirakumo that they’re almost literally answers. the main chapters are a little foggy because i speedread them at 3 am, but i just caught up with vigilantes.

at the start, aizawa sees himself as someone who’s constantly just behind and will stay there as everyone moves on. he trudges into class drenched after leaving the kitten behind and he’s super emo about it. meanwhile, shirakumo literally flies through the window, also drenched, saved not only the kitten but aizawa’s umbrella, and manages to put on this cheery (albeit borderline explicit) show about it. it’s a CLEAR contrast between the two and aizawa goes as far to say that he hasn’t reached his “true self yet” while he looks at shirakumo and then says that he starts to change.

as if it’s not enough for aizawa to beat himself up mentally, his classmates bring him down for not having a “heroic” enough quirk. shirakumo is constantly stepping in to bring him back up, even during real work study stuff, and goes as far to lend him a pair of his goggles so that his eyes become more useful. this becomes a stronger bonding point between aizawa, shirakumo, and hizaishi for them to start looking to the future together. while wearing those goggles, which are protecting his sight from the strong winds on the roof, he stares into the sky, feeling like he’s getting swept into the future like the clouds in the wind. (also the clouds as a metaphor. damn)

and then we come to the last fight. everyone that aizawa looks up to is crushed in the wake of the villain, and he’s the last one standing. there’s a group of children to protect, and he’s panicking and drowning in his overthinking. the way he’s given a huge panel to himself only to be visually overwhelmed by his thought bubbles stood out to me. and then the thing that snaps him out is shirakumo’s voice cheering him on. it’s a bunch of simple praise, but it means everything in the situation. the friend who’s been pulling him up no matter how hopeless or apathetic aizawa feels is of course the one to spur him into action in a life-or-death situation. aizawa realizes he’s gotta fight immediately, and even reminds himself of exactly what shirakumo told him- that his quirk IS useful and levels the playing field.

i was already kinda spoiled for this part since i read the main manga first, but hearing shirakumo’s cheering the entire time while aizawa is absolutely toiling to defeat this huge villain would have been touching regardless. and when he lands in triumph, hurting but victorious, he screams for his friend to hear that he did it!! but then you see this joy start to like. rot away as soon as it pans to kayama and hizaishi. it’s raining again (THE CLOUDS AS A METAPHOR! DAMN!). shirakumo’s corpse is lying feet away from him, staining the medics’ sheet with blood. i don’t have much to say about this part, it was just a lot for me to process!! also i’m still not entirely sure about the way his speaker works so i might be wrong here, but did he really spend his dying moments with a traumatic head injury cheering on his friend to not only beat the immediate danger, but to self-realization?? or maybe it was prerecorded? idk but either way, truly a hero.

aizawa and hizaishi are left standing in the rain because once again, “it fits the mood.” so obviously there’s the callback to when aizawa first said that when he comes to class after leaving the kitten and i have yet to fully comprehend it because i have no braincells for interpreting media. i guess maybe it’s like- aizawa at first felt terrible for not being able to save even a kitten while being enrolled in the most prestigious hero course in the country. getting drenched while settling with (what he considers to be) a cowardly measure is the icing to the cake for his self-hatred. it’s the classic “this might as well happen” scenario to get soaked by random rain or a car splashing you with a puddle on a bad morning. rain is sad. but in comes shirakumo, equally drenched but still the bright light that he is. he’s also done everything aizawa couldn’t but wanted to and more in this situation. he could do it not just because of his storing quirk, but because he held the life of someone who needed saving more important than the school rules. this decorum lets the kitten slide as it makes itself at home in the classroom. the rain stops soon after. but then you have shirakumo’s death. once again, aizawa, and even hizaishi, who’s usually always upbeat (almost every panel of him was just him screaming YEAHHHHH. plz give him more dialogue) both agree that the pouring rain fits the mood. this also brings us back to the present that preceded the flashback- koichi just rescued a cat and a child from a villain with aizawa’s help, and now they’re standing under an awning to escape the rain. this situation is literally almost exactly what happened at the beginning of the flashback which is why i guess it brought it on, but it’s interesting to see what changed- aizawa is the one who’s learned from this situation and teaching the student the meaning of responsibility (using an abandoned cat as an example, no less), and they’re all properly shielded from the elements this time. i guess the conclusion (that could be totally wrong) i’m coming to is that the rain sort of represents the adversaries aizawa faces in life- his self-deprecation, those that don’t believe in him, his personal failures that he has been facing lately. shirakumo has always been there to guide him past it, and once he lifts up aizawa nothing can shake him again. but now that he’s definitively gone, it’s back to haunt him for this one last moment of sheer grief. it’s only this one moment though, as aizawa clearly uses this moment to move on and better himself not just for his sake, but for everyone counting on him. he’s escaped the rain.

it’s so clear how this manifests in the main manga and i’m so happy vigilantes was able to spin out such a good backstory and explanation for his actions!! one of the most immediate ways we see his ideals stand out is his taking in of shinsou as his apprentice from general studies. it’s absolutely because he sees himself in this boy. he has a quirk that’s seemingly useless once you get into combat and everyone thinks he’s a creep for it. more people might even wary around shinsou than aizawa’s case. during the a vs. b practice fights, shinsou explains what he did wrong, clearly upset at himself for not doing enough. aizawa immediately pulls himself up, reminding him that in order to achieve what he just said, he’d have to be a pro, and that what he managed was more than enough. these parallels between aizawa and shinsou are definitely hinted at in the main story, like when midoriya underestimate’s his prowess in combat at usj, but with the vigilantes arc everything is so much clearer. in the main manga, we get a direct reference of aizawa’s expulsion rate in relation to how it helps students grow when they face “’death’” as he’s interrogating kurogiri. though dramatic, i feel like it has to be linked to the dire situation aizawa faced when the pro heros and shirakumo got knocked out during that one fight because of its placement in the chapter. he understands better than most in the story that a lot of times pushes, whether big or small, are needed to grow. he wants to be to his students what shirakumo was to him.

OK EDIT because i didn’t realize there was more to the arc after 64 lol. so obviously after shirakumo dies aizawa’s and hizaishi’s dreams of starting a triple hero agency have been dashed. aizawa seems to distance himself from hizaishi, or at least they’re on uneasy speaking terms. he’s coping by training super hard and is bent on going solo after graduation, the opposite of what they had all planned. but this time, he has conviction on what he’s going to do with himself, and that’s great! he learns that you have to be there for yourself in life. there’s a small montage leading from graduation to where is now in vigilantes and it’s been hard, but he’s been making it. still a lone wolf as ever, aside from the pushes from kayama to become teachers with her and hizaishi at ua. he thinks doing that would be a stupid choice for him, he’s been alone this whole time and doesn’t work well with others (anymore, he thinks). but now that he’s in the cafe with everyone, he changes seeing everyone fawn over the cat but their new dreams of being a popular cat cafe.

the impact of seeing their newfound hope brings him back to another flashback of the rooftop trio, and THE PARALLELS!!! of them also dreaming to start their hero agency based on their first rescue of sushi the cat. back in the present, aizawa, who’s been spacing off, suddenly realizes the sky and his mind have cleared (THE CLOUDS KEEP COMING BACK AS A METAPHOR!!! if this happens in the main story i’ll cry). i’m still not 100% sure of what exactly makes the dots connect for him, but it’s been hinted through the flashbacks and his reactions to the rescued cat that he’s actually a good teacher himself, though he had been mainly shown to have learned from others around him. he drilled husbandry requirements into shirakumo and interrogated koichi about responsibility as if they were second nature. i think aizawa realized that he’s actually always had a soft spot for watching people grow and do good things and wants to be a part of facilitating that. or at least because he wasn’t able to accomplish doing good with his friends originally, he wants to help other accomplish the goal he couldn’t. also the fact that kayama still sends him updates on sushi isn’t just really nice of her, but it’s also another representation of how aizawa’s convictions he developed as a student still drive him to do what he does today.

MY MAIN POINT IS: aizawa really loves shirakumo. to have so much of his character based in the lessons he purposefully or inadvertently taught him is an amazing testament to that appreciation. aizawa never emotes except for the occasional creepy smile when he psychologically toys with 1a, but the emotion he displayed during the interrogation really caught me by surprise. the apathetic emo character suddenly being truly happy or sad is a cliche but this panel right fucking here was so powerful to me:

yeah his eyes are always bloodshot as a trademark to his quirk, but the emotional EXHAUSTION written on his face is so starkly different than his usual boredom. this feeling that horikoshi illustrates in two small panels is so human that it’s instantly recognizable deep in our hearts. we’ve all been in those heavy and direly serious moments that wrack our mental and emotional fortitudes, where the only response manageable without hideously breaking down is some subtle motion of the hand or crinkle of the face. we all know what this means without understanding the japanese onomatopoeia or needing additional dialogue. before i read vigilantes, i still immediately understood what this man meant to aizawa. and that’s why i love shirakumo so much!! we all know at least a little how aizawa used to feel as a student, and to have someone constantly pushing you and acting as such a light in your moments of darkness is something so incredibly special. i really hope they’re able to get him out of his nomu state so those three can finally become heros together :’)

god!!!!!!!!!!

#bnha #mha #bnha vigilantes #mha vigilantes #aizawa shouta #eraserhead #oboro shirakumo #loud cloud #phew i haven't written something like this in YEARS #mod

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writtenonreceipts · 4 years

Text

words words words the fanfic saga continues...should have another part up by this weekend. Thanks for the wonderful comments and support for the first part, y’all have no idea how much it means!

TW: Angst, anxiety, depression, talk about death, drug references, alcohol references. (I’d honestly say the drug and alcohol are pretty mild but I just want to be safe for ya)

They are the runaways. Before she manages to return home with her basement full of demons, Aelin meets Rowan. Several times. Set within the events of THIS fic. Part three. Throne of Glass modern AU

hello, good-bye (part 2)

It is a year after she meets him for the first time.

Technically it is their fourth meeting. But the other three don’t count. Not really.

The first time they met she’d just overdosed and was sitting in a hospital bed wondering what the best route of escape was. Lysandra slept over her legs, drooling. Aelin had no recollection of how she got in the hospital. Nothing beyond the needle, the pills, the desperation.

The second time they met she vomited on his shoes. They were damn nice ones too. She offered no apology other than the fact it was his own damn fault she was going through withdrawal symptoms. It was his own damn fault for being so annoying. And why was he covered in cartoon stickers?

The third time they met they weren’t supposed to know names. They weren’t supposed to know histories. They weren’t supposed to be there together. Even though they found themselves in the same uncomfortable chairs staring over the same stale coffee. They were supposed to share stories of support and weakness. Those meetings were always worthless in her opinion.

So this is really the first time they meet.

Aelin is sitting in a coffee shop sipping on her chocolate hazelnut blended double espresso with extra whipped cream when she sees him.

He’s impossible to miss really. Tall and broad shouldered his physic is certainly glorious to behold. Not to mention the tan skin that gleams with post-workout sweat. His hair is silver and hangs to his shoulders, longer than when she first saw him. But that time doesn’t count, she reminds herself.

The little shop is full of the late afternoon crowd of caffeine seekers and rain avoiders. And with the deluge going on outside, quite a few people have sought refuge. Aelin wants to be annoyed, but she reminds herself that she is one of those rain avoiders.

And between watching the rain or watching the group of teenage girls giggle of text messages—Aelin decides on watching him as he orders. She doesn’t know why. It’s not like she’ll say anything to him. Better to be as far from his as possible. Because as much as she doesn’t want to—she really does remember him. He is cold, harsh, broody. She knows he has a past, but with the snippets she’s gotten. It’s a hard one. Dark and cruel.

He doesn’t notice her until his name is called. Rowan. And he’s taking the first sip of the double espresso with caramel and vanilla. She’d always thought he’d be the black coffee sort. He’s turning to find a spare table and his eyes meet hers.

She’d never admit it to anyone, but she’s always loved his eyes. From the day she woke up in that hospital bed those rich green eyes have haunted her.

Aelin fingers one of her many scars—the one on her right hand, over her knuckles—and she considers what it would be like to not feel so alone. Because right there, even with barely three feet between them, another human being has never felt so far away.

Her fingers move to the inside of her wrist where the thinner scars reside. So far away.

“This chair taken?” His voice is low and brisk.

Aelin looks up at him. She shrugs, not even bothering to blush or play coy or something else she might have done once. “No.”

It’s not like he’ll try and talk to her. Anonymity is his life. From the hospital where he works to the meetings he attends. He has no ties to her. It’s not like she wants any either. She knows his condescending look. Which really is hypocritical when you think about it. If he’s an addict too, he can’t judge her. Can he?

But she judges him. Because what else can she do? She judges him for barely talking to her in the hospital. At the meetings. She judges him for the stupid sticker he gave her where he scrawled a meeting location and phone number. She judges him for never really talking about what he’s gone through. Because how can you change and get better when you don’t accept the past?

She’s a hypocrite too.

“What?” she asks realizing in her stupor he’s actually decided to talk to her.

“Your bag?” He repeats, a single eyebrow raised.

Aelin fumbles realizing her too big purse is sitting in the proffered chair. She snatches it up and takes it into her lap. Maybe that will help the way she shakes and the feeling of panic welling up inside her. Why is she so focused on him with scenarios dancing in her mind of things that will never happen? Things that are stupid. Things that—

“I didn’t expect you to actually show up,” Rowan says.

Aelin snaps her eyes to him as he drinks his coffee. “Excuse me?”

“To the meetings,” he replies.

“It’s none of your business,” she says, cold and sharp. Her hackles are on the rise and already she’s debating her escape.

“No, I guess it’s not.”

“Why would you even care?” she asks. They’ve sat in silence for too long and she doesn’t like it. Even though she told herself there was no real reason to talk to him, she can’t help it.

He smirks. “I thought it was none of my business?”

She calls him a name and is slinging the strap of her purse over a shoulder.

“Wait,” he says. He holds up a placating hand but his face is unreadable. “Stay.”

Aelin glances outside where it’s started to rain. She purses her lips and relaxes back into her seat.

“I’m Rowan,” he says finally. “Seeing as how we’ve never officially met.”

The wince is too hard to conceal or pass off as a shiver. Aelin shrugs it off and doesn’t quite meet his gaze. “Aelin.”

He makes a noise in the back of his throat which causes Aelin to look up. His eyes are narrowed slightly as one finger runs along the lip of his cup. He’s scrutinizing her. It’s like she is an open book before him. Everything there is to know is tattooed upon her skin. So, Aelin meets his eyes and holds that intense stare.

“I guess I’m still trying to figure you out,” he says. “I thought I’d have it down already.”

“Because I’m so easy? So like all the other girls who’ve fallen apart in your hospital?” Aelin replies. Maybe it’s a cheap shot but she doesn’t care.

He cocks his head to the side but says nothing. So she says nothing either.

And they remain that way until the rain has subsided and Aelin is safe to run out to her car and leave him behind.

Tucked in the pages of her favorite book, Aelin finds the sticker.

It’s of a cartoon daisy with a smiling face in the center and happy yellow petals dancing out. It’s a terrible sticker really. Why would anyone think it was a good idea to create something like that? But she ignores the thought because all she can do is trace the words and numbers on the back of the sticker.

She never bothered to remove the backing. Never bothered to put the sticker on her car or phone or anywhere else but in her favorite book. She doesn’t really know why.

But now she’s feeling the crushing blow of having lost another job. It’s not her fault. Not really. She can’t afford regular gas. She’s basically living out of her car. The only skirt she owns has bleach stains. And she’s still craving like it’s only been a day since her last hit.

Maybe it is her fault. Everything is after all.

But those numbers scribbled on the backing of the sticker are written so neatly, so carefully—it would be a shame not to put them to good use.

So she puts them into her phone and dials. It’s a miracle she still has a phone anymore honestly. Or a car. Or her favorite book.

“Hello?”

His voice is clipped. Aelin can tell how tired he is in that one word and the way it’s a sigh barely escaping his lips.

A small noise hisses out of her throat.

“Aelin.” It’s not a question. In the background she hears keys jingle and a door close and feet pounding on stairs. “Where are you?”

That is a wonderful question.

Somehow, Aelin realizes, she’s made it to her car. It’s sitting in the middle of the parking lot of the restaurant where she used to work. She knows that without the money she would have gotten from tips she won’t be able to buy gas.

Before she can force herself not to, Aelin is telling him where to find her. She’s promising that she’ll stay right there. She’s promising that she’ll stay on the line. Even as the panic seizes her and she is desperate. She is desperate for anything, anything, that will calm her down.

He arrives just as she’s manages to calm herself down.

I’m fine. It’s fine. Just breath. Deeper than that. Hold the air in. Slow. Slow. I’m Fine. I’m fine.

Aelin untangles her fingers from her seatbelt as he gets out of his car. As he walks over to her, she pulls her self out of the seat and leans against the car.

“You didn’t have to come,” she says quickly. “It’s fine. I overreacted.”

She just hopes the tear streaks on her cheeks aren’t that noticeable.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, completely dismissing her words.

Aelin stares at him.

“There’s a pizza place just down the road,” he continues. Rowan nods to the restaurant behind her. “I’m guessing that one will be on your blacklist for a while.”

Did he just try and make a joke? Aelin stares more intently.

“Come on,” Rowan says.

This time it’s more of an order and Aelin obliges.

When they’re seated at the pizza place with water and breadsticks in front of them, Aelin notices the watch on his wrist. Hot pink with Dora the Explorer on the face.

“What the hell is that?” She makes a face and stares at the watch.

Rowan glances down and shrugs. “A watch.”

“Smart ass. Why the hell do you still have it?”

“I need to tell time when I’m on shift and can’t pull out my phone.”

“It’s pink.”

“It’s a watch.”

She stares at him. He stares right back.

Who is this man? She wonders. Who is this man that is so arrogant and cold and confidant? Who is he, so calm and capable?

She hates him for it. Hates him that he seems to have moved on from his past. Hates him that he is so put together and not a wreck like her. I bet he doesn’t have panic attacks in his car. I bet he isn’t wondering the best way to cash in on his sobriety.

“You made it through the full sixty day run,” Rowan says, “you told me to keep track.”

“That was months ago,” she replies. She can’t help but to glare at him. But to hate him.

“And?” he presses. “How has it been?”

Aelin saves herself from responding by taking a long sip of water. She looks around the restaurant. It’s pretty small, but a cute place. It has wood paneling, checkboard tablecloth, and a jukebox in one corner. A family of four sits in one corner.

“Fine,” Aelin says. “Why do you care anyway?”

“Why’d you call me?” he returns.

Aelin doesn’t want to answer. If she answered she’d have to explain why she can’t call Lysandra. Which would lead into not being back in Terrasen. Which would lead into why she met him in that hospital so long ago.

“What made you move out to Wendlyn?” she asks instead. “Terrasen has a better medical program.”

“Family,” he says. Though, it comes out more like a growl. “Why would you move out to Wendlyn?”

“Family.”

Both answers are an admission. Both answers are pained. Both answers are lies.

She doesn’t know how it escalated from there. Between slightly hating him and slightly admiring him—Aelin talks with him every few days. Sometimes she goes a week or two. But she’ll always check in. He has become a friend of sorts to her. Which is good. Otherwise she’d be right back to where she starting at the beginning of their relationship.

But it’s not a relationship. It’s hardly anything at all.

Her phone rings at some unholy hour one night. Aelin doesn’t know why, but she answers it.

“Hello?” she scratches out.

She is met with his breathing. Unsure of what to do, Aelin remains quiet. Her phone presses into her ear with heavy force until she’s sure she’s going to break something.

“Rowan?”

He makes a strangled noise on the other side and she’s kicking off her blankets, dancing around her tiny room for her shoes.

“Rowan, I’m coming over,” she says.

“No.” The word is barely a whisper. “No. I’m at the hospital.”

She waits.

“There was an accident. Pregnant woman hit by a drunk driver. She stoked out on the table right before me. Just died. And the baby too. But that man…he just walked away. Cut on his head and some bruised ribs. He gets to walk away.”

Aelin wraps her fingers around her blanket tight enough her hand starts to hurt. He’s told her once about his high school sweetheart. Rowan was going to marry her. Not just because she was pregnant but because he believed she was his soulmate. The one. The only. The end.

She’d been hit by a drunk driver on her way home from his apartment.

That had been his end too. Drowning was the way he’d been determined to go. Drowning by alcohol.

“Rowan,” Aelin whispers. She wishes she was at his side. If only to hold his hand or catch his tears before they fell.

“Talk to me?” he begs.

She tells him about Lysandra. Her best friend. The reason she made it away from Arobyn and Clarisse alive. Then she talks about Aedion. A cousin she doesn’t even know if he’s still alive or not. She doesn’t talk about Sam though. Not now. But she talks about another friend whom she loved. Little Elide who first dreamed of running away. Aelin doesn’t know what happened to her, but she does know that’s where the idea first came from.

Be free. Run. Live.

Simple words. Simple ideas. And she tells him everything. Right up until the sun begins to rise.

“Thank-you,” he says when her voice finally gives out.

“Rowan?” she begins then pauses unsure of what she really wants to say.

“Yeah?”

Aelin wants to invite him over. Wants to say he can always come. Always call. He’s not alone. He never has been. But the words dry up in her throat unlike the tears that are slowly tracking down her cheeks.

“Good-bye,” she says instead.

“Good-bye.”

tags:

@ tottenhamboys20

#rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #rowaelin #throne of glass #queen of shadows #kingdom of ash #the fanfic no one asked for continues #it's a slowburn even though nothing really happens my bad guys i tried #fanfiction #runaways

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shiftysdogtags · 4 years

Text

I Knew You

I based this off Taylor Swifts song ‘cardigan’. When i heard the song i immediately thought Joe Liebgott and i seen this story play out and i knew i had to write it. I’m not 100% happy with it and i know no one asked for it but here it is anyway.

Warnings: passing mentions of drinking and being drunk. Slight swearing. Also my terrible writting✌🏻

If you listen closely you can hear my heart breaking in the distance. And a big thank you to @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant for the teddy bear idea and the title.

Taglist: @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @floydtab

Headcanons and ships for the pacific and band of brothers are open

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I knew you

Dancin’ in your Levi’s

Drunk under a streetlight

Joe didn’t let many people get too close to him. Very few people knew the real him, they just seen the person he wanted them to see. He was soft and delicate. Not delicate like a flower, delicate like a grenade with the pin removed. One wrong move and he could blow up. It was because of this people avoided him. He was blunt and rough around the edges. Maybe he was standoffish too, but he was my Joe and nobody knew him better than i did.

“Joe, get off the street” i tried pulling him onto the path.

I would love for Joe to show people this side of him, slightly drunk and giddy. He was swinging from a street lamp and dodging cars that tried to beep him out of the way. Although i tried to be serious, the more he swung around the dizzier he became, making me laugh. All i had to do was pull him twenty feet to the right and he would be inside my house and safe.

Joe stumbled in my direction and pulled on my hand “Dance with me, Doll”

No matter how much i objected and stated that i had two left feet he persisted. It wasn’t dancing exactly but the way he held my hand gave me butterflies. The sound of his laugh when he threw his head back was enough to put me in a trance and i swore if that was the last sound i ever heard it wouldn’t ask for anything more.

Joe made me feel careless and brave. With him my by side i was afraid of nothing, as if i could do anything i dreamed of. I found fearlessness somewhere in side of me and it was all thanks to him.

It wasn’t until he spun me i realised i was also tipsy. Slightly light headed, he pulled me to his chest with a kiss to my temple. A car stopped, catching us in the headlights and i decided it was time to go inside. Trying to pull Joe towards the house again he stumbled over his feet but, i somehow managed to get him to the spare room and into bed.

He was almost half asleep and i pressed my lips to his forehead. “Night, Joey”

I knew you

Playing hide-and-seek and

Giving me your weekends

Joe and i kept each other a secret. Although people knew we were friends, they didn’t know the true or full extend of our relationship. Relationship, if it could even be classified as that. On a normal day we would be polite and only acknowledge each other if really needed. Our days off were spent together doing anything and everything. I learned about Joe and who he really was by just sitting around and listening.

“Do you think stuffed bears have feelings?“ he asked me, lying on the sitting room floor counting the cracks in the ceiling. He had one arm under his head and the other was holding a bear i found in my mothers attic amongst my old childhood toys.

Of course i laughed and i though how out of character it was for Joe to ask something like that. We were hidden from view, the curtains were closed and no one could ruin the time we got to be alone together. The Joe i knew was softer and more vulnerable than he would like to admit. Opening the curtains would be like him confessing the fragility of his emotions and letting people into his life. They would be kept closed and the world would be none the wiser of his feelings or his closeness to me in that moment.

Watching him investigating the bear i realised how few people saw this side of Joe. I loved being one of the only few, if not the only person, he acted like this with. He pulled on a loose thread and a hole formed. He looked wide eyed at me with an apologetic face. It wasn’t until he heard my laugh did he join in too. With anyone else he would have brushed it off but he was afraid to hurt me.

“I think you hurt his feelings” i said nodding to the bear. He laughed louder and threw the bear at me.

To kiss in cars and downtown bars

Was all we needed

Joe used to drive around for hours with me in the passenger seat changing the radio. He would pick me up after work in the diner downtown. After a long day he would tell me i needed to loosen up and go on an adventure with him.

“Come on Y/N, have a little fun once in a while” he said with a little smirk and that was all that was needed to convince me. That smirk on his face made me feel like i was selling my soul to the Devil.

With no destination in mind we normally ended up parking the car beside the bay. When we were together we didn’t need material things or to be doing anything specifically, all we needed was each other. All of our major firsts happened here. The first time we kissed was eating ice cream a few months after Joe got back from Europe. The first time he mentioned the war and what he experienced happened at the bay.

It was here on a chilly Autumn night i realised i was in love with Joe. We sat on the car bonnet sharing a blanket as we watched the car headlights dance across the bridge. He was warmer than me, always had been. With my head on his shoulder and his lips in my hair i hoped he felt the same way.

There was never supposed to be anything romantic about our rendezvous, but i couldn’t help but hope. The bay had seen the same amount of kisses shared between us as cars that crossed the bridge.

I knew you

Tried to change the ending

Peter losing Wendy

I knew nothing good would come of this. The ending was clear before anything had even begun. The second i met him everything played out like a dream in front of me. Heartbreak was the only possible outcome and vivid hallucinations danced in front of me, almost real enough to touch. But when i reached out my hand they were gone just as fast as they came, disappeared in a cloud of smoke

“We’re just friends and you know it” Joe stated, cigarette hanging from his lips

“Thats bullshit, Joe.”

My emotions got the better of me and ignoring the warning signs, i let them. Despite all this i had hoped, really hoped that i could somehow change it. Joe was Joe and he did what he wanted when he wanted. I knew i was delusional to believe i had the power to change anything, let alone a strong willed person like Joe. He refused to grow up, constantly acting childish and never committing to anything for a significant amount of time. People around him were play things that he singled out to suit his specific needs. He dropped them like toys and picked them back up again when he was bored.

“Can you honestly sit there and tell me there are no feelings between us?” I begged him for an answer. “Do you feel anything for me? Anything at all?”

No answer was given, just a simple shrug of his shoulders. If my heart wasn’t broken before it certainly was then. He couldn’t look at me, focusing his eyes over the steering wheel and watching the rain fall against the windscreen.

“I can’t do this anymore” Getting out of his car i slammed the door closed and ran across the street into my house. Even though the distance was short i was soaked and my clothes felt heavy on my skin as did Joe’s words, or lack of words, did on my heart.

That boy had me wrapped around his little finger. Like a puppet on a string, Joe pulled me left and right. He had me where he wanted me. Believing that having something more than a fling with Joe was a fantasy. Being with him was like playing make believe. He makes my head spin and his voice fogs my judgement. It was time to come back to reality. It was time for me to grow up, with or without him. I wanted to forget him.

But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss

I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs

The smell of smoke would hang around this long

‘Cause I knew everything when I was young

It was while making coffee the next morning i realised tying to forget someone like Joe is near damn impossible. Every detail about about him lingers in my mind, his name constantly on the tip of my tongue. The shape of his lips are imprinted onto mine and i will never forget how they felt. The spark when his deep brown eyes met mine is always embedded deep in my heart where no one else can reach. His touch is eternally burned onto my skin, forever part of me. I knew i would never really be able to untangle Joe from my life. It was hard to know where he ended and i began.

The coffee machine was done and i took my favourite mug from it’s place in the press. Of course it was positioned next to the mug Joe usually used. I noticed the coffee stains on the edges. I’m sure if i looked closely enough i would see transcripts of all the late night conversations shared between us. They were never really serious, only ridiculous ‘what if’ scenarios, but it made me wonder. What if i never met Joe? What if he never smiled at me the way he did? What if we never had that fight? How many washes would it take to get the smell of him and his smokes out of my clothes?

Everything blended into one and i couldn’t remember a time in my life when Joe wasn’t part of it. It was impossible to know what parts of my life actually belonged to me and not him. Pictures float in front of me, reminding me of our time together. No matter how hard i tried to forget, each memory will be forever burned into my heart.

I knew I'd curse you for the longest time

Chasin’ shadows in the grocery line

No matter where i went a memory of Joe played like a movie in front of me. It was like an outer body experience, as if i was watching from afar. Shadows danced in the store aisle, distracting me. I only noticed the cashier was ready for me when the man behind me cleared his throat. Apologising, i quickly placed my few items and thanked the girl quickly leaving the store.

When i reached my car i realised all my thoughts were consumed with Joe. He haunted my memories and my past. Flashbacks came daily in the most random of places. Every inch of our home town crawled with the sound of his voice and each street screamed him name tauntingly at me.

Starting the car, i made my way home while desperately trying to avoid any streets where i shared moments with Joe. It was impossible. Every street contained a different story and a different memory. The streetlight outside my house is the one i danced with Joe under. He was everywhere and unavoidable.

He ruined me in all the best ways. Joe stripped me back to the basics and built me up again in ways i can’t describe. Before Joe life was boring and grey. Now, it is full of colour and new sounds i wouldn’t have experienced without him. He turned everything i knew upside down. The vitality in everything we did together will always be etched into me. It has made me a different person and for that i can’t be anything but thankful towards him.

I knew you’d miss me once the thrill expired

And you’d be standin’ in my front porch light

I missed him, more than anything. Two months later i still missed him and I have never felt so alone. Even when Joe left to join the paratroopers i never felt this lonely. Somehow the thought of having him in the same town but not as my friend was worse than him never coming home. That was such a terrible thought but it’s how i felt.

The thunderstorm outside reminded me of the night i fought with Joe. The rain beating against the window made it feel less lonely. It created a sound displacing the constant silence that surrounded the house now Joe wasn’t around. Picking up the stuffed bear he once made fun of i smiled before i threw it across the room. He was everywhere.

I almost missed the banging noise against the front door. Cautiously walking to the window to see who it was because who in their right mind would be out in weather like that. The last thing i expected to see was Joe standing on my front porch knocking at my door. I deliberated for a moment whether to let him in. Could i leave him outside and hope he would leave, or should i let him in and wreck the little progress i have made in forgetting him?

I chose the latter, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch. After opening the door he stood there not saying a word. He didn’t come in straight away and i watched the raindrops fall from his face in the light. He looked exhausted like he hadn’t slept in days. I handed him the blanket and he followed me in placing it around his shoulders.

He said nothing, he just smirked. “Hey Doll”

And I knew you’d come back to me

#band of brothers x reader #joe liebgott x reader #band of brothers imagine #joe liebgott imagine #bob imagine #bob x reader #band of brothers imagines #Joe Liebgott imagines #joseph liebgott imagine #joe liebgott #Spotify

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mst3kproject · 4 years

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Beast from Haunted Cave

I’ve actually received a couple of requests for movies to review, and I am looking into them. I just have a few others I want to get through first… like this one.

Beast from Haunted Cave begins with a familiar tune – over the credits we hear the same jumpy ‘suspense’ music that opened both Night of the Blood Beast and Attack of the Giant Leeches. It seems to have been a favourite of Gene Corman (Roger’s brother), who produced all three movies. The writer, furthermore, was Charles B. Griffith, who did the same job for half a dozen MST3K movies, including It Conquered the World, Gunslinger, and Wizards of the Lost Kingdom II. Finally, Beast from Haunted Cave has the strange distinction of being the only movie I’ve ever seen that thanks ‘the people of South Dakota’.

A master criminal and his drunk, stupid henchmen (one of whom is a drunk, stupid henchwoman) have decided to rob a mining operation. In the process they annoy some kind of giant bug monster that was living in the mine, and it stalks them and their guide through the wintery mountains until they reach a cabin where they hole up to wait out a blizzard. Between the monster lurking outside and the fact that the gang are all getting fed up being stuck indoors and starting to hate each other (a familiar scenario in 2020), it’s a good bet that no more than two of them are getting out alive. Probably the henchwoman and the guide, since they were kissing earlier.

Beast from Haunted Cave is a typically cheap Corman production. The familiar music persists through the entire film, and gives the same impression it did in Blood Beast – the soundtrack people were given a set of pre-existing pieces and did what they could with them. A terrible winter storm is represented by howling wind noises, but it never actually snows. The monster is dreadful. The webs draped over everything demonstrate that it’s a spider, but all we actually see is a featureless head and a couple of flailing arms that resemble nothing so much as one of those inflatable tube men at a used car lot. When all we’re seeing is one leg reaching out to grab people it’s not awful, but as soon as we get a good look at the whole creature it’s clear that this is some kind of repurposed Hallowe’en decoration. The gold bricks the thieves came to steal are just… well, bricks painted gold. The paint isn’t even shiny.

Outside of that, however, the movie isn’t really that bad. Everybody on the crew seems to have known what they were doing, and did their best to work within their meagre budget. The photography is surprisingly competent. The lighting rarely qualifies as atmospheric but there’s always enough of it – even in scenes set at night or in a dark cave, I never found myself squinting and wondering what’s going on. The snowy landscapes are shot on location and look suitably hostile (although they could often only do one take, since after that the snow wouldn’t look pristine anymore). You can see the actors’ breath, which gives a visceral sense of the cold. The writing is mostly just serviceable but every so often there’s a little gem tucked within it.

The two places where this shows best are in the character of Marty and in the relationship between the mastermind, Alex, and the henchwoman, Gypsy. Marty is a drunken buffoon but there’s more to him than that. Early in the film he invites a cocktail waitress from the ski lodge, Natalie, to make out in a cave with him. They disturb the monster, and Marty escapes but leaves Natalie behind. For the rest of the film, even as he continues to be a drunken buffoon, it’s clearly eating him up that he abandoned this woman. There’s an ambiguous moment when he finds Natalie’s still-living body webbed to a tree in the middle of the woods – perhaps it really happened, or maybe he’s having a nightmare.

Gypsy has clearly been working for Alex for some time, as secretary, girlfriend, and as a way of distracting the targets of his robberies. She’s an alcoholic sad sack who looks ten years older than her stated age of twenty-six, and clearly regrets her self-destructive life. She cannot leave, however, because Alex is controlling and violent, and because she wouldn’t know what she wants or who she is without him. When he beats her up for kissing Gil the guide, she later says Alex had a perfect right to slap me. At the same time, the film hints of happier times between the two in a running gag, never explained, where Alex and Gypsy call each other ‘Charles’. This seems to have once been an endearment, but is now a passive-aggressive insult.

One character whom I wish had done more is Gil’s housekeeper, Small Dove. She rarely speaks, but she carries an axe and spends a lot of time judgmentally watching the stupid white people. She could have been this movie’s Eulabelle, but she ends up getting eaten by the monster without ever doing anything badass. Shame.

Let us now return to a familiar question: who is the main character in this movie?

I guess Gil is the ‘hero’. He’s the hunky male lead, who gets the girl at the end. He never does much to further the plot, though, except for urging Gypsy to leave Alex and figure out how to lead her own life. Although she seems romantically interested in him, Gil may not return the sentiment – it’s hard to say. He doesn’t kill the monster, Marty actually does that by setting it on fire with a flare gun. Gil is just sort of there, a cardboard cut-out in the ‘handsome guy’ box all movies must have.

Gypsy has a much better claim on the protagonist role. The script takes much more interest in her situation than in anybody else’s, and we are encouraged to sympathize with her feeling lost and trapped. She survives at the end to run off with Gil, though we’re not given any indication of what they’ll do now or whether the budding relationship between them will last. Like so many other movies of its era, Beast from Haunted Cave has no denouement. We simply fade to black from the monster on fire (another thing they could only do once, since they actually burned the prop).

Gil is the one who describes the cave as ‘haunted’, but this never has anything to do with the story. There is not even a hint of a ghost or even a ghost story connected with the cave. I assume the word is in the title mostly because Beast from Cave sounds like a dinosaurs-and-cavemen movie made by the cavemen, and having put it there, Griffith felt he had to justify it with a line of dialogue.

The character who had the most potential to go through an arc is actually the antagonist, Alex. He’s been pulling heists like this for years, and is proud of his success. He has no reason to think this job will be any different, and yet as the movie progresses, Alex has to watch his plans fall apart all around him. One of his henchmen is going mad from terror and guilt. The other, Byron (who you can tell apart from Marty because Byron is The One In The Stupid Hat), is developing a crush on Small Dove and thinking about getting out of crime and settling down. Gypsy is kissing Gil right in front of him, and Alex worries what she might have told him about the real purpose of the ski trip. Then there’s the storm, which means the plane that was supposed to take them to Canada can’t get to them, and the lurking monster. At the end of the film, Alex is still trying to regain control of the situation, even as the monster closes in on him.

Criminals on the run getting menaced by a monster seems to be a surprisingly common plot for a movie. Voodoo Woman and Killer Fish were both variants on the theme. I’m guessing this serves two purposes within the plot: the first is that it means we’re not too sad when the main characters die, since they were already bad people. The second is what I think Beast from Haunted Cave was going for – it means that the characters cannot ask for help with their situation. The group know, from hearing it on the radio, that they’re being hunted by the authorities. If they were to call for help, whoever came to the rescue would find the gold bars in their bags, and they’d go straight to prison.

This idea is mostly implied. Nobody ever actually suggests calling for help, or even trying to contact the people who were gonna be flying their getaway plane. It also seems that they had no contingency plan for bad weather, which makes the whole operation look very poorly-planned.

One thing I did find myself thinking about is that the radio news mentions the police looking into the theft, but we never actually see the cops investigating. This applies to the other movies I mentioned above, as well… in Voodoo Woman we’re in an area that doesn’t seem to have much by way of police, but in Killer Fish, too, law enforcement is entirely absent. This is a good choice on the part of the writers and directors, because it allows us to focus on the monster plot. If they were to include detectives, that would unnecessarily complicate things and require a resolution of its own.

Then again, if they had two resolutions, they might have had to include some ‘wind-down’ time. I don’t like it when movies end abruptly after the monster dies, because it tends to leave dangling subplots. Gil and Gypsy are still in the middle of nowhere, and must now shelter in the cave until the storm ends. Are they going to be okay? Last time we saw Small Dove she was weakened from blood loss but not yet quite dead. Can they save her? Will Gil and Gypsy stay together, or will he encourage her to go find herself? So there’s another lesson for aspiring film-makers: don’t end your movie until the story’s actually over.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #beast from haunted cave #50s

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