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ovaryacted · 2 months

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Ok ok ok, so…hear me out. (TW: death, and suicide at the end)

Let’s just say Leon’s kids (maybe they’re a teen at this point) ends up captured by some evil bioweapon lab. The ransom note is essentially ‘leave us alone to do our science or we kill your kid’

I can see this playing out two ways.

The first, Leon tears apart the world. He sees red and essentially blacks out until he’s reunited with his child/ren. He’s awake for the entire time it takes to find them. The only time he actually ‘rests’ is when his body physically crashes and passes out. Even then, he gets nightmares. What if they’re too late and his kid/s become twisted creatures? What if they’re already dead? What if he has to put a bullet in his own precious baby because they were reduced to a shambling zombie, just like RC?

He wakes up screaming. Crying. Sobbing.

Even if he gets to them in time, they’re undoubtedly traumatized. They won’t be child/Ren anymore. They would have been exposed to how fucked the world really is. He starts thinking he’s a failure. He’s failed to protect his kid/s. The ones he loved the most in the world have had their innocence ripped away.

But damnit, when he finds them, you bet your ass he’s not letting them go. He hugs them tightly. Almost too tightly. Leon starts sobbing. They’re unharmed. Untouched by evil science.

When it comes to the escape, he holds their hand. It doesn’t matter how old they are, he’s going to hold onto SOMETHING. They aren’t coming out of his sight ever again. Not after this.

Second scenario, Leon IS too late.

He sees what USED to be his kid/s. If he stared hard enough he could see them, under the shambling, the growling. They were still in there somewhere.

But he was too late. Even if they could get a cure, the damage was done. His child/ren were gone.

The world goes quiet for Leon. His only focus would be on them. All he could hear is his own heartbeat. After he ends their pain, I don’t think he’d go home.

The official report be KIA, but anyone else who was on the mission would know the truth. Leon didn’t want to live without his kid/s.

BUT THEN ITS ALL A NIGHTMARE BECAUSE I MADE MYSELF SAD TYPING THIS AHHHH IM SORRY

cw: religious imagery, mentions of gore and violence, suicide attempt

Hey, angsty anon, I know you remember sending this to me when I was at work and it fucking upset me but I said I would make it worse...well I'm making it a tad bit worse by adding my thoughts to this. Apologies in advance, and of course if you don't want to read some sad shit, don't read it. (I was half asleep writing this so my bad lolz)

I think Leon's family becoming involved in the horrors of bioterrorism, the very thing he's trying so hard to protect his loved ones from, is one of his biggest fears. In this field, he's seen people he cared about, good people, who were abandoned by those meant to protect them and had to alter their bodies to try to feel control. Although Leon does everything to ensure his family is protected, he still falls short when his child gets taken away by an enemy and is used as collateral.

The entire aspect of finally being able to have a life gets to Leon. To have a chance to settle down and have a family of his own which is now being threatened, turns Leon into this vindictive monster just motivated by revenge. On prior missions, he's usually calculated and knows what to do, where to go, and what to bring. But now that his child is involved, his own flesh and blood, yeah he blacks out for most of the mission and is going off of instinct.

He doesn't give his partner much of an explanation when he just says he's going to leave and that he knows he's going to bring his family back together. He can't promise anything, can't promise if he'll come back in one piece or at all, but he will bring his child back home. If being a federal agent working in bioterrorism has taught him anything, is that not everyone comes back. Sometimes he just gets lucky and the cycle repeats.

Leon does not sleep, does not eat, and much less gives a shit about his own safety and health. As far as he knows, he's on a witch hunt to kill the bastard that threatened his family and his happiness. The entire time he's trying to get his child back, his mind goes back to the horrors of all of his missions. He thinks back to the fear he felt in trying to save Sherry, he remembers the way his mind went all hazy on his mission to Spain and saved the president's daughter.

It's all the same. But it has to be different right?

He doesn't consider himself to be a religious person, he used to be back in his youth. But as this rogue mission goes on longer and longer and he spends more time without his child, he starts to silently pray that they're alive, that they haven't been ruined like everything else in this rotten world.

Let's say he does find his kid in one piece, scared and traumatized, probably tucked into a corner in a dingy cell in some run down lab. Leon wrapped his arms around them, apologizing over and over again, looking for forgiveness, and blaming himself for putting his child in danger simply because of the life he was forced to live.

He does get back home in one piece with his child in his arms and eliminates any other possible and future threats so he never has to worry about that again. The people who even think about hurting his family will regret ever doing so. As long as his child is safe and back at home, he thinks he's achieved the impossible and is protecting all that he holds dear.

But let's go on the opposite end of the spectrum. What will happen if Leon doesn't get there in time? If he finds his child turned into some monster as revenge? It would tear him apart, and he will consider this to be his karma for even wanting a better life for himself, a life he doesn't deserve. The person or thing in front of Leon wasn't his child anymore, it was a mess of torn-up limbs and cut skin, and he couldn't feel his child's presence anymore.

His soul is empty as he raises his gun to shoot towards the monster, putting them out of their misery, and the last bit of humanity Leon has left goes with the dead body hitting the ground. He still has a mission to complete, a society to protect, so he focuses on that and refuses to give himself a moment of grieve.

Later he says, I have time later.

He's detached from his reality throughout the remaining time he gives himself to finish off this mission, his last mission. When all the threats are eliminated, he walks around aimlessly, his spirit has run dry and he knows the gaping hole in his chest is too much of a burden to handle. He doesn't cry, he's done enough crying in his life and frankly, he doesn't have any more tears to give.

I've failed. I've failed you. I'm sorry.

The words repeat in his head and he pretends his significant other somehow gets the message that he's not coming back home. He wonders if God will come to save him from this blasphemy, but this is the price he had to pay for having too much blood on his hands, blood he did not want to have.

His hand is steady as he puts the gun to his temple, finger on the trigger and he hears it click, nothingness comes right after. He doesn't feel pain, doesn't feel much of anything, and surprisingly he feels calm...at peace.

Things can't be different. Not this time.

#ovaryacted asks #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy headcanons #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil drabble #resident evil imagines #resident evil angst #₊˚⊹ ♡ ─ angsty anon

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chickensarentcheap · 2 years

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Esme stuff :)

@tragiclyhip, @youflickedtooharddamnit, @secretaryunpaid

The old fella has been gone for a few days and I’ve been miserable and just missing him like crazy, and when I got back from the grocery store, these were waiting for me.

I love you, Tae. I miss you. Come home soon. Be safe. I’ll see you when I see you ;)

One of the feral little beasts attempting to take care of dinner for the fam. We start them young around these parts. lol.

Baby Brookie modelling the latest in mummy made ponchos. Not too sure what to make of it. Daddy said she looks like a garden gnome LOL

The very last Rake baby. He is so unbelievably perfect. Tae and I have shut ourselves off from the rest of the world (work responsibilities wise) and are enjoying every moment with him and just soaking up every second. It’s bittersweet; the end of our single handedly trying to populate the earth. But it’s been quite the adventure indulging in parenthood. We will miss the days of having a baby in the house, but my body sure as won’t miss the mess it becomes when carrying a human inside of it.

And to my love, the best damn (eight time) baby daddy a girl could ever ask for: Thanks for all the fun (nudge nudge, wink wink) and input of stellar genes. Your sperm can finally breath easy and retire at lat. And just think: Now sex really IS just for fun ;)

The Fox and Hound traumatized him and traumatized him good.

Side note: The moment he took that shirt off at bed, it became mine. I know you love that shirt, Tae, but sharing is caring. I’ll let you borrow it once in a while.

Crackers indulging in some fine literature. How did I become the creature keeper?

My husband (teeth chattering, his skin turning blue): “It’s actually really good for your system. You should try it.”

Yeahhhh. No.

TJ (who actually enjoys the ice baths after sports matches) calls it the ‘dinkie shrinkie’ box. LOL.

Let’s observe the master at work. He’s going to squeeze between parked cars and somehow manage to not only get the truck door open, but get the precious cargo into its car seat and buckled up. All without waking the sleeping menace.

Anyone else’s spouse take the WORST possible pictures of them? He always manages.

Him: “You look like you just got railed.”

Me: “Ummm, maybe because I DID. Your short term memory really is shit.”

LOL

Every time one of the kids gets moody and pouts, I always comment on how the ‘Rake pout’ and how they inherited it from their dad and his fam.

My husband: “I don’t pout.”

Also my husband:

My sister took in an abandoned cat and she just had babies and look at them. LOOK AT THEM.

One of my all time favourite pictures. Little Peanut safe and warm in daddy’s hands:

Not too shabby looking for an old fella, huh?

And yay! Another hoodie for me to steal. I mean, borrow.

#Tyler and Esme series #Esme Rake #Rake kids

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gillianthecat · 1 year

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He's so beautiful 🥰 And stays beautiful throughout, but don't watch it if you're just looking for pretty boys because a lot of other stuff happens too.

I just finished Alice in Borderland's season 2...

and I have a lot of thoughts, and some (though not as many) feelings about the series.

I think overall they kind of average out to meh? It didn't quite work for me the way that I wanted it to, or thought it should, although I'm not sure if that's because of the series or because of me.

I should be sleeping instead of writing, so I'm going to dump it all out onto the page without regard for order or coherence:

It was surprisingly coherent and logical in the details, which I find these sort of clever shows with central mysteries often fail at. It's very explicitly using the structure of video games. I can recognize it, just from being on the internet I guess, but I've basically never played video games other than the occasional five or ten minutes with my brothers when i was a kid. I don't know if I would have connected more with the show if I was more of a gamer; one of the stories it's telling is "what if you had to live in a video game," which isn't all that immediately interesting to me, although I can see how it's intellectually interesting.

That was kind of my overall response to AiB - at so many moments I could intellectually see what they're were maybe going for, but I rarely felt an emotional connection to any of it. Perhaps it was just my state of mind this week, and not the show's fault. It could also be the tremendous amount of violence and death in the show; I think my reaction to that is to disconnect, dis-invest in the characters because they could be gone at any time. Which, on the one hand is closely related to the themes of AiB, how do you value a life and all of that. On the other hand, since this is a piece of fiction, and not actual lives, it just kind of leaves me disconnected from the story. I kept pausing it and doing other things (even though I was also desperately procrastinating from real life) and in between mostly forgetting about the characters.

In the end it was intellectual curiosity that kept me coming back, both in the world of the story - what was this place they all were? - and also about what exactly the show was trying to say. Because it pretty clearly was trying to say something, not just sweep the audience along on an adventure story. The explicit questions, most clearly stated in Chishiya's arc but also I think present in everyone else's, are "what is the value of a life," or perhaps "what are you willing to do for other's lives?" But honestly those questions seemed kind of boring to me, which is perhaps another reason the show was falling flat. Perhaps if I was Japanese it would make more sense to me, the profundity of it lost in translation, linguistic and cultural. Or perhaps the show just isn't as deep as it wants to be/thinks it is. I dunno, somehow the extreme violence and the basic arbitrariness of everyone's deaths rendered the question as silly. It was trying to be about how people, specifically our various protagonists, take responsibility for the lives of other, balance their desire for survival against the rest of the world. But someone it never felt to me like the show or the characters grappled with the terrifying horror of the violence they endured and witnessed. And I get it, it's so extreme it can't really be processed in the format of the show, which is also at it's heart an adventure story and a coming of age story. But if the show is going to go there, killing off literally hundreds and possibly thousands of people on screen, it really needs to deal with if its going to deal with it.

And the characters did react - Arisu prostate on the floor despondent and blaming himself, obviously traumatized. So I'm trying to figure out why that wasn't enough for me, why it felt shallow. My first idea that it's a cultural disconnect, but I don't think that's it. I think it's because the story is so tightly focused on the protagonists, their losses and griefs and guilts and the life lessons they learn from it all, that it turns the lives and deaths of those thousands of unnamed characters into mere fodder for the protagonists' journeys. Which seems a very video game thing to do, and the opposite of the direction I thought they were trying for. But I'm still not entirely sure what they were trying for, despite the many explicitly stated life lessons in the piece. (Perhaps the many layers of the ending complicates these ideas; I'll get to that in a bit.)

Speaking of Arisu. I liked him, I really did. The actor has a beautiful face, sometimes I just stared at him instead of paying attention to the plot. And I empathize with him as a fellow underachiever. But somehow he didn't work for me as a protagonist. He somehow felt bland. And I don't think it was the actor's fault, he seemed to be doing a good job, and I'm guessing if I saw just a clip of any one scene I would think he worked. It just... maybe the story they were trying to tell simply wasn't the one I wanted to watch. It felt like he was supposed to be an every-man, young and lost and living only through video games, there for all the gamers (gaming men) in the audience to identify with. Much like how I imagine the main character in a video game to be, kind of generic, ready for the player to enter and see the world through it's eyes. But drama series are not video games, and they need a protagonist with more... oh I don't even know what was lacking. Maybe it's not a lack in the character itself, but in the way he was elevated by the narrative for no seeming reason, living out the fantasy of being the special one after all. And the script did explicitly acknowledge this, and I think in many ways it was intentional, but yet somehow that didn't work for me. idk. If there is anyone out there who has a) managed to make it this far into my ramblings, b) seen AiB, and c) has thoughts about Arisu as protagonist, I would love to hear them, because at this point I'm just talking myself in circles.

(And I noticed to that Arisu and bad guy Niragi were counterpoints, opposite paths for the same sort of basement dwelling underachiever, but I don't have many thoughts on it right now. Or maybe Samura, the guy with all the tattoos, was more obviously the counterpoint, but he died and was less narratively significant in Arisu's story.)

I also would have preferred Arisu and Usagi had a firmly platonic relationship instead of heading toward romance. I mean, it seemed inevitable it would head that way as soon as I knew there was a female lead, so I wasn't exactly upset by it, just resigned. And it's not that the actors couldn't do romance, I was quite taken with their chemistry in that final scene at the hospital vending machine. That was actually a romance story I would watch, whatever it turned out to be (again, thoughts on the ending(s) to come).

But it felt so... I don't know, generic somehow. I didn't really get why they each, specifically, were drawn to the other person, specifically, other than that they were the main characters so they had to fall in love. It just would have felt more interesting to me if it was all done out of a deep friendship. Even Usagi's sacrifices and pleas in the final game with the Queen of Hearts would have worked if they were friends instead of falling in love, I think for me the scene would have felt even stronger, their bond and love for each other somehow more intentional rather than just following the predetermined path of a video game, in which the guy gets the girl.

I have many thoughts on

all the secondary protagonists, most of whom I found more interesting than the two leads

the various games themselves (I was impressed at their internal logic)

the final bosses - a serial killer jack of spades and then a literal tea party with Mira queen of hearts. i don't actually know my thoughts on this yet, but i know i have them. And I thought Mira's actor was excellent.

the attempted rapes and other moments of sexual assault (which I don't think were necessarily supposed to read as sexual assault. But I'm still trying to understand Japanese media's attitudes toward and depiction of sex.) I survived watching them by wondering if Usagi's and Niragi's actors were friends, and hoping they were comfortable with each other, because all that licking looked quite awkward.

(that's generally how I survived the most uncomfortable scenes, rape and gore and anything I didn't want to immerse myself in: I thought about the behind the scenes process of filming it)

the cinematography and CGI (was was often quite beautiful)

All the secondary women I loved: An, Kuina, teenage archer Heiya, the two dealers from the game at the Beach, Momoko and her friend, gone but not forgotten, desperate Shibuki, more complex than expected. There were a lot of fascinating women in this show, and I think the story did interesting things with them. But, also their stories were secondary to Arisu's... I don't actually know what my thoughts on that are yet, separate from my generally issues with his protagonist-ness.

Usagi herself. Who started off so intriguing and then got flattened into "the love interest." Maybe that's why the romance bothered me.

Arisu's friends, and their role as sacrifices, both explicitly acknowledged by the script, but also... still somehow not turned into real characters for me, despite them have personalities and backstories.

But also, Machida Kieta! I did not at all recognize him at first. I remembered vaguely some BL actor was in the show but not who, and did a double take when I read that it was him. Also ironic that his opening moment is literally an extensive kiss with women, when there were zero kisses in [redacted to avoid spoilers for those who haven't seen it]. But he was good as completely different character than [redacted].

The mysteries of it all! Just who/what is behind these torture/murders sprees disguised as "games"? And why? There were various theories offered in the show, were any of them real? And could any answer actually be satisfying? They eternal question for shows like this (I remember Lost stumbling so badly I never even finished the last season.) I don't even have theories myself, and I expect I would be disappointed by any particulars. But I also really want to know.

I did wish the characters were more curious/determined to find out what was going on. Which... they were, or at least some of them were (that's probably why An was my favorite. As well as that 8mm film they found.) And that was supposedly Arisu's driving force through it all - to get answers and get home. So I don't know why it didn't feel like enough for me.

oh I almost forgot! the Alice in Wonderland metaphor going on. It works, although I'm not entirely sure what it adds to the story. But I've never actually read the book, and most of my encounters with the story are actually videos of The Royal Ballet rehearsing parts of Christopher Wheeldon's ballet version. Which I haven't even seen in entirety. All of which is to say, I caught I few basics, with the help of MDL (Arisu=Alice, Usagi is apparently the Rabbit, the Hatter, Chishiya=Chesire Cat, the playing cards, the croquet game and tea with the Queen of Hearts). And I think this question of justice and fairness in an absurd world is also a theme in Alice in Wonderland. But if there are other parallels, or any of the other characters have specific counterparts, I missed it all.

And then the ending. I actually deliberately partially spoiled myself for it, which generally I work hard to avoid. But I was struggling in the last few episodes, and I wanted to know if there would be any answers if I kept watching, or if I would just leave frustrated. So I knew about the Joker card, though not the context. And I have to say I was more glad to see it than not, even though I don't want to wait for another season that never appears.

Because I was frustrated by the "it was all a near-death dream explanation." of them back in the real world. One that even they didn't remember, despite all the hard won lessons the characters learned. It's rarely an ending I find satisfying, and it raises so many questions: whose dream was it? Just Arisu's or everyone's? And, as an audience member, I feel like it cheapens all the deaths I had to witness to get there. Yes, I know they were fictional, but, I don't know, it somehow removes all the weight from the story, and then I wonder why I suffered through all that pain if it meant nothing. So as much as I want the characters to get back into the real world I was revealed to see that Joker card emerge on the table, implying they were in one last more stage of the game, controlled by who the hell knows who.

Although all the (conscious) characters seemed happy enough at the hospital back in their real world of the hospital, it didn't feel real to me without their memories of what they had endured, how they had changed from it. Because they had all worked hard to earn those changes, paying the price in literal blood.

That said, in general I'm not a fan of reality slipping media, that keeps the audience guessing on what's the real world and what's the hallucination/simulation/whatever. Alice in Borderland handled it about as well as I think it could. But often reality slipping just pulls me out of the story entirely. Because none of it is real, it's all created in film studies and on locations, and in the graphics computer. So if the show is asking me to determine which of the fictional realities is the "real" fictional reality, I often just through in the towel and go it's all fake. Alice in Borderland didn't do too much of this, so I was able to stay at least somewhat grounded in the worlds they were creating, although this was probably another contributor to that feeling of disconnect I was talking about at the beginning of these musings.

Ok. I have written almost 2500 words and I could probably write thousands more. But I really do need to sleep, and if I save this as a draft it will just hang over me. So here it is, in all its rambling unedited glory. If you made it this far, feel free to ask me questions. I do have vague intentions about writing more, but there's a good chance it won't happen without prompting.

#alice in borderland #my ramblings #full of spoilers #no [editing] we die like men #final episodes #reaction by gillianthecat

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hav-vok · 7 months

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cross posting from the wrong blog.

Oct 5

I'm not okay with my body image right now because I have to pack for Disney and the weather is warmer than I expected so I can't just hide in a big hoodie and I wanted to look cute but I just don't think I'll look cute or nice or anything other than a big fat blob of awful and I really don't want to ruin this with a fucking breakdown about how fat I am and how none of my clothes fit.

and the worst thing is I have no one but S to talk to this about. I have no girl friends I can't just pop up and say I feel like crap hype me up and help me find something fun to wear. I've never understood those scenes in coming of age films where the girls are all sat around in one room trying on each others clothes and doing each others hair. I never got that. I've never had anyone like that. I've never had a best friend that way. I've never even had a friend that way. not for 15 years.

half my life. half my fucking life I've not had friends to confind it and talk about this with and work through the trauma of societies expectations with. half my life. the half where it's mattered. no one cares as a kid. a little kid. but man as soon as you're aware of what this fucking world has its eyes on and what it deems is good and right and everything is it banishes as wrongs it's just traumatic trying to do anything else with that .

and now somehow I'm meant to have dinnerrmmmmmmsurbdn

I broke and nearly threw my phone so I dropped it and punched my leg lots instead.

I'm great. I'm good. I'm doing absolutely fine. about to go on the holiday of a lifetime apparently. what a delight.

Oct 6?

I keep opening and closing social media. like someone opening the fridge again to see if new food has magically appeared.

I realised that when I say friend, in most cases I think I should say acquaintance. because they're not friends. we were tied by a common place and most of our conversation rotated around that common place. maybe all I get are acquaintances. and I need to be okay with that level of relationship somehow.

Oct 8

so today I get on a plane for the first time ever and no matter how much I try I can't freak myself out about it which is good I guess. everything will be fine and it'll be so much fun and such a delight ✨

I'm sat in an airport waiting for a plane to arrive. it's ten minutes late which is wild but hey ho.

security was stressful and wild but nevermind I got through with only one misshap which for my first time isn't too bad.

getting random pain in my left toes though and knees hurt occasionally, and a slight headache which I blame on stress and stimulation.

Oct 12

so we'll Disney was a big ball of surreal crazy

idk why but mornings were not good for me. next time we go away like that I need to prepare for mornings better.

yesterday I felt quite bad, waves of sickness if I stood for too long, sharp pains in my stomach and guts. felt better if I sat for a while. didn't feel good enough to eat so I had a small yogurt, a few mouthfuls of lunch (cauliflower and pork mostly) and an apple when I got home. not lots of water either but I just didn't feel good. also got to experience a wheelchair for the first time ever, useful but not hugely.

feel a little icky today still but I'll try and eat nice plain foods here and see how it goes. Sam is out to work all afternoon so if I end up sitting in the bathroom then that's what happenes.

Oct 15

bs: weak+tingly hands, sore feet, achy hip R, little snotty, sleepy, weepy eyes, sore L shoulder

ms: flat, concerned about money this month

went to bed about 11ish last night, don't remember taking the hoodie off, don't remember S coming to bed, woke up a couple times during the night, once where the roof of my mouth was intensely itchy so I had some CBD , went back to sleep till S alarm at 8.40. 9.5 hours ish maybe ? obviously still tired from travel and Disney. but back at work today.

Oct 16

bs: mild cramps, can't tell if ovaries or intestines. L hand bad pins and needles during night, especially 3rd finger. sleepy

I was very snotty yesterday, and a bit coughy and had several long sneezing fits. I took some meds and went to work and it seemed to clear up. wondering if there's some dust or mould or something that affects me in my studio room. but it's so small and compact I don't really know how to go about changing that, since I have so much stuff. and things in this house get mouldy even in the warmer months let alone over winter when it's damp. oh to have central heating.

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wkemeup · 4 years

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Sunrise (1)

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU) pairings: bucky x reader chapter word count: 3.5k warnings: heavy focus on Bucky’s PTSD/anxiety, the first splinter in the wall around Bucky’s heart 🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

This was a bad idea. A monumentally bad idea.

Bucky closed his apartment door behind him, pausing for a moment at the top of brownstone steps as a chill of autumn air swept by. Brittle to the touch, cool on his skin, it nestled into his spine and ached deep in his bones— in ones that had been long abandoned, too. The sun reflected against the shine of the pavement from last night’s rainfall, forcing Bucky to squint his eyes.

Was it always so bright outside? Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t left his apartment for nearly a week before Sam threatened to turn him over to Steve that he’d forgotten how unpleasant the streets of New York could be. Loud. Cold. Chaotic.

He stepped onto the sidewalk, slipping out of the path of a jogger who nearly ran him over and had the gull to flip him the bird. Bucky groaned, curling his right hand into a fist and digging it deep into his pocket as he tried to calm the sudden racing in his chest. The free arm of his army jacket swung down by his left side, empty.

Not even a few steps outside the sanctuary of closed curtains, warm bedsheets, and the unattended static of a decade old television, and Bucky was already regretting ever knowing Sam Wilson.

Bucky turned towards the busy street ahead, staring up at the hustle of pedestrians and rush of taxis for a moment longer before he dared to take a step. His feet felt remarkably heavy and he had more than half a mind to tell Wilson to shove it and head back up to his apartment. He had better things to do than make a completely unnecessary trip to the VA.

What those things were, he couldn’t say, but they didn’t make his heart feel like it was about to beat straight out of his chest. He could stare at a wall for a few hours, for example – see if he could find the crack in the drywall again and follow it to the ceiling.

“Don't be a coward, Barnes,” Bucky grumbled to himself, earning a strange look from an elderly woman as she passed by. Her eyes held on him longer than she should; clearly a woman who had little shame in her degradation of strangers.

He gritted his teeth and commanded his legs to move. Those worked, at least.

As he made his way to the main street, his palm started to sweat inside his pocket. He could see his breath in every tense exhale, and still, he was boiling hot under his jacket. There wasn’t a chance in hell he’d remove it, because even with a sleeve hanging loose off his shoulder, he could at least keep up the pretense there was something inside. People would have to look twice before they realized. Wasn’t so easy to hide a missing arm in a short sleeve shirt.

Still—he was thankful as he weaved his way upstream through the crowd that he wasn’t as broad as he used to be. A couple months' worth of weight loss, diminished muscle mass, and one less limb will do that do a guy.

He used to be the sort of man that women would glance at as he passed by. Charming smile. Infectious energy. He could make a woman bite shamelessly at the edge of her bottom lip with a single trail of his eyes along her figure. Extend a hand, offer a drink and a dance. He used to hold confidence in every ounce of his body.

Now, he kept his eyes on the pavement. He hid from the sun and the curious looks of strangers under the brim of a baseball cap. No one looked twice in his direction. He was invisible these days and that was just the way he liked it.

By the time he reached the VA, he was surprised to find it a little less than pristine. The windows were dirty with handprints and smudges, the window panes covered in soot. A few of the roofing panels were missing from harsh New York winters. Even some of the outer brick wall had seen some weathering.

Though, if he were honest, it wasn’t usual at all. Made some sense that the VA was left to wash and wear on its own, deteriorating in front of a busy street of onlookers, right out in plain sight. It was how Bucky felt after he’d come home from his last tour— discarded. Placed upon a pedestal, but only as long as you wear the uniform, only as long as you’re staring down the other end of a barrel. Once you’re shipped back home and cast out from desert, you’re made to fend for yourself. Pull up your bootstraps. Adjust.

Bucky wasn’t sure how to do that anymore. Sam insisted this would help. The people at the VA were good, he’d said. They were like him. They’d understand.

While Bucky was suspicious, it was enough to drag him a couple blocks from his apartment. It was more than he’d done in weeks anyway. Sam would put on his makeshift shrink hat and call that a meaningful step. Bucky would call it pathetic.

He stared at the double doors, focusing on dark red rust on the metal hinges. He wondered if he put enough pressure on the latch if it would snap clean off. It looked sharp on the edges, too. Someone could easily cut themselves on it if they weren’t careful—

BEEEEEEP!

A jolt surged through Bucky’s chest enough to nearly knocked him off his feet.

Sudden flashes of a sweltering heat, the unnatural vibration of the desert under his feet. The car horn echoed into the back of his head, longer than it should have, and his ears started to ring. His vision felt tunneled and Bucky quickly stumbled his way through the double doors just to escape the blare of the horn outside.

It took a minute to adjust to the dim lighting. It was darker inside than what he was expecting. He blinked a few times, hand resting on the wall to hold his balance as he looked around, shaking himself from the memories.

Lamps were spread throughout the common room to offset the abrasive overhead lighting left untouched. Bucky started to wonder if he maybe it was on purpose, if he wasn’t the only one who had become sensitive to these things, when Sam walked into the room.

He froze.

“Holy shit!” Sam’s mouth rose up into that goddamn know-it-all smile, wide enough to show teeth and the dimples in his cheeks, and Bucky winced. Sam started to laugh as he crossed the space to where Bucky was standing. “I didn’t think you’d actually come!”

“Yeah, well,” Bucky shrugged, “I’m here. Don’t make this a big thing.”

“Who me?” Sam scoffed, feigning offense. “You know Steve’s the one who’s going to blow this up. He might throw a welcome party if you ever show up to the support group.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “That’s not happening.”

“Yeah, I figured as much.” Sam nodded, though he was still smiling. He looked almost... proud? It didn’t sit well in Bucky’s stomach. “Still, got you out of that cramped apartment, didn’t I? You open those curtains yet or are you still living like a vampire?”

Bucky glared at him. Sure, Sam was right... but he didn’t need to know that.

“Come on, I’ll show you around.” Sam put a hand on Bucky’s back to guide him down the hall.

He was only one of two people Bucky tolerated touching him at all and he was lucky he didn’t flinch anymore. Even an innocent touch from his own mother when she tried to hold his hand after he came back from his final tour had nearly left him in a panic attack. She’d cried as Bucky desperately tried to gather his breath, shoving her away as if she’d burned him.

Sam and Steve didn’t give him much of a choice. They didn’t handle him with kid gloves or treat him like he was about to break. Even if he was splintering at the seams, you’d never be able to tell with how Sam and Steve were around him; like old times, like nothing had changed, like they were still three kids dressed in fresh uniforms with chips on their shoulders and a whole new world ahead of them.

After a while, the small pats on the back and the nudges in his side became a small comfort; not that he’d tell them. It was a strange feeling to both be repulsed by touch and crave it. But the topic didn’t come up much these days outside of his friends anyway. No one tried to touch him and he didn’t seek it out. It was easier that way.

“The kitchen’s over here,” Sam said as he pointed into a room that had likely once been covered in white tiles and appliances, though now resembled more of a pale yellow. Two men were hunched over at the table, nursing coffee out of Styrofoam cups as a woman waited eagerly by a toaster.

“Everything in there is free rein,” Sam added. “Always stocked with food from donations, though I would make sure to check the expirations on the milk before adding it to your coffee.” He shivered at an unpleasant memory and Bucky found the edge of his mouth curl, though he suppressed it rather quickly.

The next room was mostly empty save for the wooden lined floors and chairs folded up against the wall. A sheet covered the small window peering inside that read ‘group in session when closed.’

“I know what you’re thinking,” Sam started, to which Bucky narrowed his eyes, “but I’m not going to force you into the support group, Buck. You go when you’re ready. If you ever are. Talking about this stuff, or even listening to it... it isn't for everybody. Steve will get that, too. We all find our outlets eventually. You’ll find yours, too.”

Bucky nodded, a swell of relief in his chest. He’d been forced into a mental evaluation by the army docs shortly after his discharge; something about routine testing, but he knew what they were looking for – what all those shrinks were looking for – Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

The nightmares came first, soon after he’d returned to the States. It started in screams that burned deep into his throat, waking up neighbors at two in the morning, finding blood in his bed from injuries he’d caused in his sleep. Lately they’d manifested into sweat drenched in his sheets and a heart rate that couldn’t seem to even out until the sun rose.

Then came the jumpiness – the flinching at every loud noise, thinking it was a bomb or the latch of a safety. He’d broken more glasses than he cared to admit, knocking them straight of his hand at the sound of a gunshot on the television.

Then the paranoia settled in, then the hypervigilance. The anxiety in crowds and tight spaces was new, though. Add it to the list, he supposed.

Through all of it, he never let the shrink catch on. He’d put on a smile and tell them he was proud of his service, that he’d serviced his country with honor and he was thankful to return to the civilian side of things for a change.

It was bullshit.

He was pissed. He lost an arm and half his mind to a war that recruited him young and idealistic right out of high school, when he was looking for a better life than what his neighborhood could offer, to put food on the table for his ma and sister. Pissed was understated.

He wouldn’t find himself in Steve’s group; of that he was certain. You don’t talk about those things after you leave the desert. Hell, you barely acknowledge them while you’re there. It’s just how it works. It’s how you deal with it. Bucky didn’t allow himself to consider whether his method was doing him much better.

Sam walked him through the common areas, the lounge space, even a room with a pretty decent sized television and a shelf filled with DVDs. It was a nice enough place. Quiet. But so was his apartment.

“Now this is the best room in the house.” Sam opened a door on his left, the hinges squeaking under an old wooden frame as he stepped inside.

Bucky followed in closely behind and was surprised when a subtle scent of pine brushed his senses. A small candle was burning at the center of a coffee table, surrounding it were a few couches, all with mismatched fabrics, laid upon a carpet that looked to have been donated from an estate sale. The walls around him were lined with shelves, though they were completely empty. Cob webs hung in the corners and dust lined the wood.

What caught his eye was a single cart at the edge of the room. It was filled with books, all in bright colors on the binding and tags from the Brooklyn Public Library piled high on top of one another, far beyond the confines of the cart itself.

“Y/n? Where you at, kid? We got a newbie!” Sam called, nudging Bucky in the side with a playful wink he did not return.

A figure suddenly jumped from behind the couch with a book in hand covered in layers of dust and crumbs. The sudden movement forced a flinch deep in Bucky’s chest, his breath held tight in his lungs, though he kept himself firm on the surface, like stone. It took a minute before he realized how tight he’d barreled his fist and he slowly released his grip before Sam could notice.

“Been looking for this one for over a year!” you exclaimed, holding up the book for Sam to see. You brushed off the cover, restoring the original vibrant hue of the artwork. “Can’t even imagine the overdue fees I’ve racked up on this sucker...”

There was a strange lightness in your voice Bucky didn’t expect, a tenderness and a sunshine that didn’t belong amongst the dark overcast of the men and women who occupied these rooms. It certainly sat in dangerous contrast to the gravel and stone in Bucky’s voice and the clouds that usually followed in his wake.

He glanced down at his clothes as you approached; a pair of old ripped jeans from a few years ago, a faded t-shirt, and his army jacket hung over his shoulders. Dull and raggedy, ripping at the seams.

But you? Dressed in the warmest shade of a red knit sweater, a gentle glow on your cheeks, a softness about your movements, you resembled the sort of sunset at the end of a highway one would stop the car to capture on film. Inviting. Tender and ethereal. Lovely.

You stepped closer and he noticed the knees of your jeans were covered in dust, your palms too. Messy in the pursuit of happiness, like a child on a playground. You didn’t seem to mind the dust as you brushed it off your knees, holding the found book close to your chest like an extension of your own heart.

“Blame it on Lang. He's always losing stuff around here,” Sam offered as you set the book on the cart. You started to laugh and swatted Sam in the arm. A pout perched on your lips, though it didn’t seem to last long. Your laugh was infectious.

Bucky swallowed as he watched you; the way your smile wrinkled up into your eyes as if a face like yours was drawn and designed to curve at the lips and push dimples to your cheeks. It shined into the bright hues in your irises and Bucky wondered if you would keep smiling like that forever, if it were possible that he could stare into the sun and not be burned; if instead, he could find warmth in its embrace.

His heart stammered, his breath shallow, but it wasn’t unpleasant like it had been on the busy streets. It was something new, a sensation he hadn’t had since before he signed his name to a cause that took his arm and his dignity.

Y/n, Sam had called you. It was a beautiful name. He didn’t know if he could even find things beautiful again after what he’d seen overseas. You were the first, he supposed.

He must have been staring too long, because your lips were moving to words he didn’t hear, and suddenly two pairs of eyes were on him. His heart skipped, frozen in embarrassment.

“This must be your first day of school,” you teased, extending your right hand to him.

Bucky stared down at it, heart pounding, and before Sam could politely tell you that Bucky didn’t really do that sort of thing, he pulled his hand from his pocket and shook it. You had a firmer grip than he was expecting, but still soft. Your fingers were like ice and it was a nice contrast to the swelter he felt under his jacket.

Sam raised an eyebrow, surprised by Bucky's sudden willingness to take the hand of a stranger, though thankfully he didn’t say anything. A shit eating grin curved up upon his lips and that, Bucky could have done without.

“Thought it was time I checked it out,” Bucky said, his voice a little dry. You let go of his hand and Bucky found he missed the contact almost instantly.

“Dragged him here by the skin of his teeth is more like it,” Sam interjected and Bucky’s ears burned red. He shot Sam a glare, who only shrugged, unbothered by his humiliation of his friend. “Been trying to get his sorry ass through the door for a few months now.”

You nodded, though your smile never wavered. Your eyes remained on Bucky, listening to Sam, but intently studying the lines on Bucky’s face. It left him feeling exposed, but somehow, even as his own gaze trailed to the floor, he didn’t mind you watching him like that, like maybe you found worth in what you saw. He adjusted his stance, suddenly remembering the startling absence on his left.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here now,” you said, brushing Sam off in his teasing. “I’ve been volunteering at this place for a little over a year. We got good people here. I’m sure you’ll fit right in...” you paused, biting on your lip.

“Bucky,” he offered because he could tell you were waiting for it. You smiled at his name and a sense of pride burned bright in his chest. God, if he could just make you smile like that again...

“Bucky’s a cool name,” you grinned, though Sam rolled his eyes. “That short for something?”

“Don’t lie to the new kid, Y/n. We all know it’s corny as hell,” Sam interrupted playfully before Bucky could get a word in. You wacked Sam on the shoulder and Bucky felt the edges of his lips curve. It felt strange, achy, like he hadn’t done that in a while. Maybe he hadn’t.

“Buchanan,” Bucky answered, though he quickly added, “but my first name’s James. James Barnes.”

“Well, James Barnes,” you started, exchanging a knowing look with Sam that made Bucky’s stomach twist in knots, “I run a book club of sorts on Sunday evenings around six. You should swing by. We’re always looking for new members.”

“Y/n works at the Brooklyn library most days,” Sam explained. “We’re lucky to have her. Never thought I’d see so many tattooed men with biceps the size of my head sitting in a circle talking ‘bout books, but Y/n works magic. Everyone loves her. Helps that her book club is pretty unconventional.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Unconventional?”

Sam started to say more, but you pouted your lips at him and he left the words on the edge of his tongue. He held up his hands in defense and took a step back, returning the smile to your face.

“Don’t listen to him,” you said, laughing so sweetly Bucky was sure his knees might give out at any second. “It’s a good time, I promise. No pressure at all.”

Bucky nodded, considering his options. The idea of seeing you again could make the walk down to the VA worth it, but he wasn’t sold on the concept of sitting in a room full of ex-combat vets probably using a shared book as a proxy for a support group. He wondered if you had them reading something about PTSD or adjusting to civilian life or a memoir of some guy embellishing his time overseas to make a quick buck.

But he wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, so he asked, “what are you reading?”

You shrugged. “Depends on who you ask.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, confused.

“Just think about it,” you suggested as you unclicked the lock at the bottom of the cart. The front wheel was broken and you struggled to get an angle to move in the direction you pushed it. “I should head back to the library. It was really nice to meet you, Bucky. I’ll see you later, Sam.”

Bucky nodded, finding himself searching for something else to say, some kind of excuse to get you to stay longer, but came up empty. You smiled at him, all bright and starry eyed, and his knees felt weak again. Shit.

“Don’t let Stark talk your ear off on the way out,” Sam warned, a laugh in his voice.

“I think I know my boys around here by now, Samuel,” you teased back. Bucky couldn’t quite tell if it was a pang of jealousy in his stomach or an eagerness to be included. It was a strange rush of feelings he hadn’t tapped into in years; not necessarily unpleasant, but certainly unfamiliar.

You paused by the door, turning back and capturing Bucky’s eye one last time. “Sunday at six, alright? I’ll see you there.”

He didn’t say anything, but you seemed to take his silence as confirmation. You gave him a final wave before you disappeared into the hallway. He could hear the click of the broken front wheel on your cart echoing down the hall.

Bucky and Sam followed you out of the room and hung back by the makeshift library doors.

“What did I tell you!” Sam cheered, nudging Bucky hard enough on the side to knock him off his balance. He was too fixated on watching grumpy old men and stone-faced women pass by in the hallway with smiles on their faces as they saw you.

“It’s, uh, it’s not bad.” Bucky waited until you disappeared out the front doors and onto the busy sidewalks before he turned to Sam. He was watching him with a sort of I-told-you-so look that made Bucky want to slap the dimples straight from his face. “...what?”

“Nothing, man.” Sam shrugged, though there was something lingering in the smirk he wore, like maybe he knew something Bucky didn’t.

He didn’t care for that one bit.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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theparanormalperiodical · 3 years

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Top 10 Controversial Horror Films That Are Famous For All The Wrong Reasons *gags* *cries*

At the beating heart of horror is offence.

From that undeniable sense of something not being quite right, to the CGI-blood-spurtin’-adrenaline-fuelled scenes that leave us shaking in our boots, horror pivots on the knife edge of controversy.

It’s used to drive plots. It’s used to drive hype. And at the end of the month, it drives studio executives to the bank.

Horror films can be traumatic enough. But there are some films that bear the cross of controversy more than others. There are some films that have been branded as so damaging to their potential viewers that merely circulating copies of the film is illegal.

And yet their infamy has forged cult viewership. What was once shielded from us has now become ‘must see’.

Today we are going to be counting down horror’s most controversial films and what made them quite so topical.

*I’m going to star the ones that you can actually watch without getting traumatised. Some are controversial not because of their content but because some religious or political groups disagreed with them*

#10 - The Blair Witch Project (1999)*

Let’s ease in with a classic - a classic you can watch without sleeping with the light on.

In this found-footage flick we see a team of film students as they explore a local urban legend. But what they find leads them to unknown and ungodly territory.

The problem with this film is that it was marketed as a true story. No, not based on a true story, a true story. Yep, they claimed what we were seeing was real, found footage of some teens going mad as they forage deeper into mysterious woods.

IMBd went so far as to report that the actors were dead. Then, the movie studio super-charged their efforts to confirm to the public that not only was this film 100% real, the three main actors were still missing. The parents of the actors then started receiving sympathy cards.

There’s even a mocked up website that perpetuates these claims.

#9 - Night Of The Living Dead (1968)*

Time for another not-too-disturbing film.

This is the original zombie apocalypse film saw a group of Americans attempt to survive an incoming attack of the undead while trapped in a rural farmhouse.

But the Motion Picture Association of America wasn’t too happy about it. The film rating system was yet to be in place, allowing children to also show up for an afternoon screening and be greeted by a 97 minute montage of extreme violence.

“The kids in the audience were stunned. There was almost complete silence. The movie had stopped being delightfully scary about halfway through, and had become unexpectedly terrifying. There was a little girl across the aisle from me, maybe nine years old, who was sitting very still in her seat and crying”

#8 - Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer (1986)

In this psychological film, we watch a random crime spree take place at the hands of a couple serial killers. Loosely based on real murderers Henry Lee Lucas and Ottis Toole, its controversial reputation was founded on the gore ‘n’ guts screened in the movie.

Whilst it didn’t receive much attention from the public, various classification boards across the world ensured new versions edited with certain scenes - often involving sexual assault and necrophilia - removed for viewers.

In 2003, the BBFC (the UK classification board) finally allowed the uncut version to be released and Australia followed suit in 2005.

#7 - I Spit On Your Grave (1978)

It’s the original rape-revenge flick. And it managed to piss everyone off.

Originally titled Day of the Woman, it tells the story of a fiction writer who exacts revenge on a group of four men who gang rape her.

Despite its pro-women claim-to-fame, the 30 minute rape scene begs to differ. Furious debate surrounds its feminist label as a film that forces the audience to endure rape from a female perspective and long-winded violence against men (something which is often reserved for women in horror). Regardless, the graphic violence earned it a steady ban in Ireland, Norway, Iceland, and West Germany.

#6 - Silent Night, Deadly Night (1984)*

You don’t get many controversial Christmas films. They typically stick to a cookie-cutter plot ‘n’ purpose every holiday season. But there are no strong women who need to rediscover the meaning of Christmas here.

Instead, we see a child traumatised by seeing his parents murdered on Christmas Eve go on a seasonal rampage as an adult.

A week after its release in the early 80s, it was pulled from theatres due to backlash. Marketing was focused on a Santa Claus killer with adverts often airing during family-friendly TV programmes and meant numerous children developed a phobia of Father Christmas. Large crowds protested cinemas with one notable protest involving angry families singing carols at the Interboro Quad Theater in The Bronx.

It was only in 2009 - 25 years after its original release - that a DVD of the film was first made available for purchase in the UK.

#5 - Psycho (1960)*

This legendary film follows the disappearance of a young woman after her encounter with a strange man called Norman Bates, one of horror’s most iconic figures. The controversy that would engulf this fim lay not in the violent attack on an innocent woman or even the disturbing content of the film.

Oh, no. It was because of what the leading lady was wearing.

In the opening scene of the film, we see Janet Leigh wearing nothing but a bra.

*gasp*

This racy attire was emblazoned across promotional material, meeting Hitchcock’s high standards of creating controversy around the movie. There was a no late admission policy for movie theaters, and the posters told viewers “Do not reveal the surprises!” to maintain a mysterious aura around the plot twist.

#4 - The Human Centipede (2009) (all of ‘em)

I’ve watched a lot of horror films, in case you couldn’t tell.

I’m used to watching a scary movie, shaking off the anxiety, and moving on with my life. But there are some that stayed with me. I only watched the trailer for the first movie, and it legitimately traumatised me. It gave me quite a severe, sudden bout of a depression for a solid month when I was 13.

Throughout horror’s goriest franchise, we see an evil doctor and amateur mad scientist attempt to sow several people together into a centipede-like chain from mouth to anus.

*retches*

At the heart of promoting the franchise was controversy. Tom Six, the director, forced a narrative that claimed from the first film that this was "100% medically accurate". He even alleged a Dutch doctor helped inspire the film, confirming that with an IV drip, this was entirely possible.

Although it didn’t receive furore that amounted to serious censorship or long-term banning, it was infamous for having its viewers vomiting in the cinema aisles.

The second film, however, was subject to much more severe controversy and could not legally be supplied in the UK until 2011 due to its heavy focus on sexual abuse, more graphic violence than the original film, and it’s pretty vile depiction of a murderer that was intellectually disabled.

Audiences were used to the graphic nature of the franchise by the third and final release. As the least-controversial and least-enjoyable film according to critics, it barely made a dent in the horror community.

Good riddance, I guess?

#3 - Faces Of Death (1978)

I’m not sure I’d recommend this one per se - but I will give it credit for being an interesting project.

This documentary-style film is a montage of footage of people dying in different ways. As a result of its very graphic and very real content, it was banned and censored in many countries. Only in 2003 was it released on DVD in the UK after a scene was cut featuring dogs fighting and a monkey being beaten to death.

Germany, Australia, and New Zealand followed suit, reversing their bans and releasing edited versions.

However, 7 years after its release, the media revamped its interest in the film after a maths teacher showed it to his class at a Californian high school. Two of his students claimed they were so traumatised they received a costly settlement to reimburse their emotional distress. Things took a darker turn a year later, when a 14 year old bludgeoned a classmate to death with a baseball bat; he claimed he wanted to see what it would be like to actually kill someone after watching Faces of Death.

#2 - Cannibal Holocaust (1980)

This Italian film’s title alone hints towards two frightening things: flesh-eating humans and genocide. In this found-footage movie we see an anthropologist lead a rescue team into the Amazon rainforest to find a group of filmmakers that went missing.

The rampant graphic content including sexual assault and animal cruelty showcased in the film (7 animals were killed during filming in some pretty horrific ways) led to it being banned in 50 countries.

Some also alleged that a handful of deaths seen in the film were real, as were the missing film crew. In fact, the actors portraying the documentarians signed contracts that stopped them appearing in motion pictures for an entire year to maintain the illusion of reality.

And only 10 days after its premiere, the director was charged with obscenity and the film confiscated. All copies were to be turned over to the authorities. There are currently a range of versions that have been edited to varying degrees and are allowed for circulation.

#1 - A Serbian Film (2010)

No.

Nope.

Don’t do it. Don’t watch this film.

A Serbian Film follows a retired porn star who agrees to feature in an “art film” for some cash. Little does he know this film will include rape, incest, pedophilia, necrophilia…

Just don’t watch it.

It is still banned in South Korea, New Zealand, Australia. It is supposedly a parody of politically correct films made in Serbia that are funded by foreign groups and allegedly speaks openly about post-war society and the struggle for survival.

*shakes head*

Off to have a 3 hour shower, brb.

If you, uhhh, liked this post please like and reblog.

And if you want to hear more about horror and the supernatural every week hit follow!

#horror #Horror Movies #horror films #best horror movies #scary movies #banned films #video nasty #a serbian film #human centipede #the blair witch project #cannibal holocaust #faces of death #banned movies #censorship #night of the living dea #controversy #controversial films

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meganwritesfanfics · 3 years

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Fresh Bruises (Josh Lyman x Reader) Part 3

Warning this story contains mentions of Domestic Abuse

It was another half an hour to almost an hour before Abby reappeared. Donna had fallen asleep her head resting on Josh’s shoulder. He knew he should be tired, he should be exhausted, it was 3 in the morning, and he had only gotten maybe an hour of sleep the night before. But he couldn’t sleep, he barely blinked because all he could see was Y/N lying motionless in his arms.

“Josh,” Abby started when suddenly a dozen secret service agents came into the waiting area. The staff knew what to do as they quickly ushered everyone in the room to a different waiting room, the commotion waking Donna.

After the room had been secured President Bartlett and Leo walked in, and Josh quickly rose to his feet.

“Sir you didn’t have to come,” He started but Bartlett just pulled him into his embrace.

“Nonsense Josh, have you heard anything?”

“The surgery went well.” Abby said and Bartlett quickly patted Josh on the shoulder with a smile on his face.

“But,” Josh said noticing that Abby’s demeanor wasn’t a happy one.

“But, her head injury was worse than they had originally thought.” Abby said and Josh sat back down looking up at her as a child would look up at a parent. “She’s in a coma Josh.”

Josh just stared at Abby, mouth agape.

“Oh Josh,” Donna said her voice cracking hard as she wrapped her arms around him, trying her best not to cry.

“What are our options, are their specialists we can see what…” Jed started as he and Abby walked down to talk.

Josh wasn’t sure when Leo sat down next to him, but the next thing he knew Leo was grasping his hand tightly. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to tell Josh everything was going to be ok. He just sat with him, letting Josh know he was there.

More time passed and Josh hadn’t spoken, hadn’t moved, hadn’t cried since Abby told him the news.

“Josh,” A voice spoke softly and he turned to see Leo still sitting next to him, but now he had a cup of coffee in his hands, Josh noticed there was another cup sitting on the table next to him. “Abby said she doesn’t think there is going to be anymore news for a while, why don’t we take you home so you can shower.”

“No, I have to stay, Y/N might…” Josh wanted to say wake up, but he couldn’t bring himself to because he still hadn’t fully processed everything that was happening.

“Abby is going to stay with Donna, they will be here when we get back, but Josh I think you would feel much better after a shower and a change of clothes.” Leo insisted

For the first time since they had gotten to the hospital, Josh finally looked down at himself. He was covered in blood, his white shirt was stained red and his shaking hands were caked with Y/N’s blood.

Before he even had a chance to say anything else, Leo was pulling him to his feet and ushering him out of the hospital.

Neither of the men tried to speak as they made their way to Leo’s car nore did they speak on the drive to Josh’s apartment.

Josh stayed staring at his hands trying to get them to stop shaking. His breathing was erratic and he was trying not to have a full blown panic attack, but it was incredibly difficult as he sat with the blood from the love of his life covering him.

“Josh,” Leo said as he looked over at him noticing the sound of his breathing. “Josh, you need to breath.”

“What if she doesn’t wake Leo, she is my whole world. I can’t…”

“Don’t think like that Josh, Dr. Bartlett is making sure that we get every specialist in the country on the case. Y/N is going to have nothing but the best care, Jed has insisted on it.”

“The President can’t…” Josh started.

“Josh, you are family, he’s going to do whatever he can to help you.”

The young man couldn’t help but get choked up hearing this. He had always considered the staff of the rest wing and the President to be his family. They had all been through highs and lows together, but actually hearing the word family come out of the Chief of Staffs mouth, really solidified everything.

By the time they had reached the apartment Josh had calmed down. He felt like for the first time that whole evening/morning he could breath.

The two men made their way into the apartment. Josh quickly rushed around picking up the papers and boxes that littered the apartment. He couldn’t remember the last time Leo had been to his place, or if he ever had, but he didn’t want him to see how terribly disorganized he was.

“Josh, I have seen your office, I expected your house to look much worse, Y/N must be a good influence on you.” Leo laughed causing Josh to stop looking back with a smile on his face. “Now go shower and get changed.”

Josh started his way towards the bathroom, but as he passed each room his mind began to flood of the memories he and Y/N had there.

It was 2 am by the time Josh had finally gotten home from work, and instead of going to bed, he immediately made his way to the couch pulling out the files he had brought home, to read over them before he had meetings the next day. He probably had gotten through 10 pages before he was passed out on the couch.

“Josh,” He heard someone whisper but he didn’t move he just kept his eyes closed, his hands barely hanging onto the files. Someone sighed as they reached down to grab the files out of his hands, and then he felt a blanket be placed over him.

In an instant he opened his eyes to see Y/N standing above him and he smiled as he grabbed her waist pulling her on top of him causing her to squeal.

“Why didn’t you come up to bed.” She said as she snuggled into his chest as he wrapped his arms tightly around her.

“I had some stuff I need to finish before my meetings tomorrow.” He yawned kissing the top of her head.

“You know that if you try to read those files this late that you are just going to fall asleep. You always do.” She giggled.

“And you are always there to tuck me in. Maybe that's the real reason I do it.”

“You are quite a frustrating man Joshua Lyman.”

“But you love me none the less.”

“Oh I do love you, I love you so much.” Y/N said looking into his eyes with such love that Josh thought he might cry.

“I love you too Y/N, more than I ever thought possible.” Josh said kissing her.

The two spent the night on the couch, and although he woke up sore, Josh still credited it as one of the best nights of his life.

Josh couldn’t hold back his tears as he continued past the kitchen

“You are not the only one with a career Josh!” Y/N screamed as she turned back to look at the food she had cooking on the stove.

“I’m not saying you don’t I’m just saying…”

“You are just saying that your career should always come first and that I should drop every single thing that I am doing to support you in your career.” Y/N hissed as she aggressively turned the stone off, turning back to look at him.

“Well yes since my career actually m…” He started but his eyes went wide when he realized what he was about to say.

“Because your career actually matters, is that what you were going to say Josh,” Y/N said, the anger completely gone from her voice. “Go ahead and eat. I'm not hungry anymore.” She said as she stormed upstairs.

“Shit,” Josh thought as he made his way after her.

As he cautiously made his way towards their bedroom, he could hear the sound of Y/N crying and he quickly walked in.

“Y/N,” He started and that’s when he saw her packing. “What are you doing.”

“I’m going to go stay with Ainsley,” She sniffed wiping the tears from her eyes.

“You would rather stay with a republican than with me,” Josh teased but Y/N just gave him a devastated look. “Y/N I’m sorry I didn’t mean what I said.”

“My job matters Josh, I know its not the life altering decisions like you make but to those kids, the ones whom I am their only voice during a time that is extremely traumatic for them, it matters.” Y/N said her voice cracking hard,

Josh quickly rushed to her side putting his hands on her face. “I know that honey, I do. I was just upset I really didn’t mean it. Your job absolutely matters. I am constantly in awe of what you do and how you help people. I brag about your job to everyone. My mother when she calls she asks how your job is going long before she even asks about me.”

Y/N laughed as she wiped her tears away.

“I was just upset because I really wanted you to come to the gala with me. I feel a lot more confident when I have you next to me.”

“Josh, you were plenty confident when I met you.” Y/N said as she back away turning back as she started to unpack the suitcase.

“It was a nice little act, but in realty, I feel my most confident and strongest, when you are by my side holding my hand, because I know if I have you I can face anything.” Josh said as he wrapped his arms around her waist burying his face in the crook of her neck.

“For how often you are an ass, you really know how to make up for it.” Y/N sighed as she turned around kissing him softly as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I’ve learned to admit when I’m wrong. Because I would rather grovel for your forgiveness than lose you.” He said seriously.

Y/N smiled as she ran her fingers through his hair.

“You won’t ever lose me Josh.”

By the time Josh made it into their bedroom he was a sobbing mess. Every room in the house gave him flashes of the beautiful memories he had with Y/N, and he felt like everything was slipping away.

Josh slowly rolled over, for the first time in a long time he had actually slept well. And he knew exactly what the reason was. As he opened his eyes he smiled looking at the beautiful girl laying next to him asleep.

Last night was the first night Y/N and Josh had spent together. And as Josh took in the sight of her snuggled up next to him, her beautiful Y/H/C against her Y/S/C, he realized that he was in love with her.

“You are staring, Joshua.” Y/N smiled as she opened her eyes smiling at him.

“It’s hard not to stare, you are so beautiful Y/N.” Josh said as he leaned forward kissing her.

“You are just saying that because I am lying naked in bed with you.” She laughed.

“You could be wearing 30 layers of clothes and I would still think you are the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Y/N kissed Josh again as she pulled him closer.

“I mean I’m not saying that you being naked in bed with me is a bad thing by any means.” Josh laughed as he flipped over so he was on top as he kissed Y/N passionately.

He kissed her for a while before the two broke apart and Josh stared down at her. She looked up eyes filled with curiosity.

“What’s wrong Josh,” Y/N smiled.

“I love you.” Josh said. “I love you Y/N.”

Y/N stared at Josh for a moment eyes wide. “I love you too Josh.”

As Josh got in the shower and he watched as Y/N’s blood dripped off of him and down the drain, he let out a devastated scream as he pounded his fists against the tile.

#josh lyman #josh lyman x reader #west wing #fanfiction #imagine

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why-this-kolaveri-machi · 3 years

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we are our family, even if we don’t want to be.

Titans 3.07

a bit over halfway through the season, and we still don’t have all of our main characters on the board! i love this show.

as always, typing this up as i watch. live reaction, baby! *shadowboxes*

SPOILERS AHEAD

1. i don’t think i’ve mentioned this before, but i kinda miss the old ‘dc universe’ intro. it was cool! the whole idea of it was wild and waaaaay over-ambitious, but also very very on-brand because of it.

2. this is... the third time we’ve seen dick sleeping this season? that’s a record! checking another thing off my s3 wishlist...

2.5. i guess i rag on titans all the time for its wafer-thin plotting and bad pacing, but i have to admit that this season has been a step-up from the last one in this regard. titans has very reactive rather than proactive protagonists, and a lot of the last season seemed to be: x happened, the team reacted badly, then y happened, they reacted badly, etc. this time around, it’s not a huge leap up by any means, but at least they’re doing something about it.

i do appreciate the focus on character arcs over everything else. and when i say everything else, i mean it: arcs that started two seasons ago with no big cathartic moments, intermittent payoff and multiple relapses. big bads have ranged from interdimensional demons to superpowered assassins to whatever in the world scarecrow is, but trigon’s big weapon against the titans was to... use their worst fears against them. slade’s was to... use their fears to break them up. crane’s is to... use red hood to use their fears to break them up. even the threat of gotham’s citizens being in danger doesn’t feel real: gotham is mythologised into an entity of its own, infecting our heroes like a parasite. like. this is not to say that most other superhero media aren’t big character arcs intertwined with the main plot, but titans doesn’t even make pretend that it’s anything but.

anyway. that’s my entry #2345 to ‘give a grand unifying theory for titans’. thanks. i’ll be back with more.

3. “anger is just fear in a little black dress.” god I HATE HIM

(what’s he doing with barbara’s likeness? oh... oh god. a terrible thought just occurred to me. what if they introduce hush at the very last minute for plastic surgery shenanigans? would you put it past this show?)

3.5. jason, nooooooooo

3.75. i mean, they’re making it very clear here that scarecrow is the one in control--the one who’s always been in control--and is manipulating jason and literally poisoning him, but i hope it doesn’t end up erasing nuance or jason’s autonomy. if jason’s to reckon with the issues that brought him here, then the lines of responsibility will need to be set somewhere.

(this applies to dick as well but more on that later, i guess.)

4. just--the phrase “40% loss of income” is so funny to me. like, gotham is full of these larger-than-life characters who are idiosyncratic beyond belief, colourful and dramatic and creating chaos just for the sake of chaos, and then there’s the regular criminals and their henchmen who just want to make a quick buck sitting down with pie charts and graphs, griping about the joker reducing their returns or debating high risk investments in, i don’t know, two-face’s next scheme.

“yyyyeeeeeaaah, my financial advisor is telling me that going all-in with a guy who literally makes decisions on the flip of a coin is probably not the greatest idea.”

4.5. god i hate smug!smarmy!scarecrow so much

4.85. as big plans to “control” gotham go, it’s pretty bog-standard. clearly scarecrow has some bigger plan in mind but it really feels like we’ve got no clear insight into him and he’s this generic creepy mystery-man who knows more than he lets on and springs a twist/cliffhanger every now and then. i liked the scenes with him and dick in 3.04 where it seemed like he was genuinely on the backfoot and things weren’t going as he predicted. for all of his faults, dick is at least familiar with scarecrow’s bullshit and knows not to give what he wants.

5. i mean... i see where dick is coming from with the “he’s not jason anymore; he’s red hood” because his immediate glaring concern is scarecrow’s drug and the damage it could potentially cause gotham? i do not doubt that it’s something batman drilled into him, too, but when you’re expected to take point on a situation where the lives of an entire city weigh down on your shoulders, it’s better to simplify things and prioritise. i’m not saying it’s great or healthy! gar is absolutely right to consider this facet of the situation. it’s just dick can’t.

6. hmmmmmmm. HMMMMMMMMMMM.

i don’t know that i’m super fond of this iteration of oracle???? it looks like a cross between cerebro from x-men and jarvis from iron man. it’s giving me second-hand embarrassment. somebody help me.

(at least they remembered dick’s middle name is actually “john”. i like to think bruce printed D in that contract because for a while he genuinely thought richard “dick” grayson was his full name. duck duck goose, dick dick grayson, i don’t know alfred, the kid was in a circus, maybe they thought it was funny. or maybe it was a test in anger control, who knows.)

6.5 “maybe you two would like some time alone?” even AI can’t help hitting on dick grayson in this universe.

“oh mr grayson, if i only had another eye to see you better...”

6.8. on one hand, it’s a bit disconcerting that the title of ‘oracle’ has gone from barbara herself to this gigantic machine; from my impression of the comics-verse, barbara had an extensive computing and surveillance system, true, but she was very clearly the brains behind the operation. on the other hand, i’m kind of glad that the ethical boundaries that this kind of surveillance violates is a sticking point for barbara. (tho let’s be real, the nsa would kill to have this in their arsenal).

6.9. also it’s now obvious that scarecrow’s big plan is to take control of oracle itself. it’s why he had lady vic take that picture of her eyes, or why he’s meddling around with it on his computer.

6.95. if only i could ‘command sleep’ anybody overstepping their boundaries re: personal information...

7. “you can just sit back and watch as the titans destroy themselves.” i mean... he’s not wrong

8. “dick’s parents were killed by a criminal mob; he won’t work with them.” it’s wonderful that you have this insight into dick, kory, i just wish we could’ve watched some of these conversations actually happen on-screen.

8.5. i’m glad that kom’s being treated with such nuance and understanding, though it’s obvious that she definitely has a Plan of her own. (and did i entirely imagine her ability to mimic other people flawlessly at the end of s2? or is that going to come into play at some point?) i think her story has the potential to be genuinely poignant, and in a universe where being Different, either because of mental health or physical differences or whatever else, leads a straight line to Evil, it’s important to acknowledge and then emphasise that the mere fact of your existence as a Different Person doesn’t predispose you to evil. maybe your act of destroying a system that has destroyed you and not scrambling to “fit in” is only evil as defined by that system.

8.8. “you’re trespassing, i should call the authorities, i feel unsafe.” now this is a villain lady who’s definitely aware of her privilege.

8.85. kom smirking knowingly at her sister is everything.

“oooh that’s the kory i remember”

9. conner and dick working together woo!

9.25. god i hate a villain who’s always just a step ahead, no matter what. so crane anticipated dick using oracle to track his personal communications and set him up? how did he know when exactly dick would get to do this? how long did he have that poor man tied up in that van?

(the “save me, grayson” is a nice touch, tho. send dick spiralling even further! because if there’s one thing dick will do, it’s take responsibility for every goddamn thing that goes wrong.)

9.5. ahem. i’m going to need a million gifs of conner yeeting dick across that yard, fandom, thankyouverymuch.

(i understand conner is invulnerable to explosions, but how do his clothes survive??)

9.8. oooh crane is already in oracle! i’m just sitting here laughing helplessly because they’re overpowering this goddamned guy so much. he can build a lab in arkham’s basement! he has access to lazarus puddles! he has minions working across gotham, including a fully functional chemical laboratory staffed by chemists who only answer to him! he has the crime families of gotham quailing in his very presence! he has assassins at his beck and call! he’s enough of a manipulative bastard to have red hood under his thumb! and now he has enough of a tech know-how to not only be aware of oracle, but know how to hack into it! i’m sick of exclamation marks! i’ll shut up now!

9.95. dick leaving behind that smouldering grave for a person he failed to save without taking a second to process how he feels about it and running towards his next plan to corner scarecrow: a microcosm of where his head’s at right now.

10. really hammering in the themes of this season, aren’t we.

10.25. the interesting thing is the titans repeatedly call themselves a family this season (none more so than dick) and while that found family has helped encapsulate and put away their traumatic experiences with their ‘original’ families, it’s meant that they’ve not really dealt with those issues. and dick and gar and jason come from ‘found families’ of their own: they are twice removed, traumatised two times over. they still cling to this identity however, and because of it they’re losing each other. a family isn’t static. it’s an ever-evolving dynamic and you have to put in work constantly to keep it healthy.

10.5. anyway, that’s entry #2346. i’m here aaaalll night.

11. lookit gar the detective! half-transforming and using his powers to deduce things! what a hero! i’ve said this for a long time, but gar is the bedrock of this team, and an unsung one at that.

11.25. i’m confused about him calling this room jason’s though. it seems to me that this is dick’s room that jason later used, and one that dick’s using now. so the unmade bed isn’t really jason’s fault; dick was woken by barbara that morning, and in his hurry, he left without making his bed.

(it still confounds me that bruce didn’t find jason another bedroom in that gigantic mansion of his. you really didn’t give this kid a chance, did you?)

12. oh well. so much for the oracle.

13. ... sorry, wait. you didn’t think i wasn’t going to address the bit with dick right now, did you?

12.5. i honestly don’t think it’s very complicated: dick’s been reeling from one traumatic thing to the next, and just when it seemed like at the beginning of the season, he felt happy and secure with his team and his place in the world, bruce ups and leaves gotham to him, specifically naming him a successor and calling him a ‘better batman’. he’s lost garth and jericho and donna and jason and now hank and dawn. he’s not even sure where rachel is or what she’s doing. after being told that batman was a psychopath for moulding him into a weapon, he’s also been told that his failure to be a ‘better batman’ lead to further disaster. of course he’s going to get batman-goggles. of course he’s going to be a prick.

12.8. i don’t know what to say. i feel his frustration acutely. i don’t think he should’ve said what he said to barbara (can people stop pushing her around this season????) but that pressure to step in where your parent fails? to clean up their messes and try to think like them? to fall into habits drilled into you when you developed them as coping mechanisms growing up? I FEEL THAT.

every step he’s taking he’s putting 110% of himself in it and scarecrow’s still playing mindgames with all of them: i absolutely feel his desperation to take control of that game and turn it on scarecrow, no matter what it takes.

and he did apologise almost immediately, and finally--finally--actually works with barbara.

12.9. again, not excusing him! but i get it. and i think that’s a sign of great character writing.

“did you know i just reminded emmram of all of her daddy issues? what the fuck????”

12.95. i love that dick&barbara, kory&kom, and gar are all approaching solving this mystery from different angles, each as valid as the other. also, conner is there as... emergency bomb defuser man?

13. it’s like all fancy rich people in fancy rich houses do is pour fancy rich alcohol into fancy rich glasses on pristine, untouched tabletops. i wonder what it’s like to live like that.

13.25. I KNEW IT! poor michael. it was nice knowing you.

13.5. man, kory is contending with a lot of issues that she’s successfully bottled up and compartmentalised until now. the cold reality that a child can seek out their parents as refuge and they can view the child as a piece to be moved in a greater game (never out of cruelty, though, never, and somehow that makes it worse), that truth of blackfire’s treatment on tamaran because she’s different, and her own culpability in what happened. she exchanged one family for another, after all, and left that family to die and her sister to suffer. like dick, like gar, kory’s being forced to reckon with what the titans are meant to be, the larger implications of creating their found family in their own space.

14. it’s probably because it’s one in the morning and i’ve had two glasses of wine but i did not follow that bit of exposition at all and victor freeze??? what?

anyway. look at them solving things! together! go team!

“you made a deal with the mob?” oh the sense of betrayal on his face! fuck off, dick, your issues aren’t kory’s.

15. conner is really sweet and a bit of an awestruck crush on kom is to be expected. especially after that power rangers-esque transformation (i say this as a former huge power rangers fangirl. i’ve seen every series until 2007 including the original japanese versions and written fanfic for all of them. so i love a cool costume transformation, is what i’m saying.)

also?

FUCK YEAH

16. i love the gotham crime families just chillin’ around eating ice cream. I LOVE THEM

16.5. that was a fun fight sequence, if marred slightly by that bit of awkward flirting between conner and kom. i wonder if she’s really planning to use him in a larger scheme to get kory back to tamaran, or maybe something else.

16.75. so i’m assuming that scarecrow has jason either so paralysed by fear that he can barely move, or jason’s withdrawing from the drug that he’s been sucking in every few minutes.

17. it’s nice to see them chill after a successful mission! and it can be awkward, but conner’s crush on kom and him striving to impress her is also, well, uh... cute.

17.5. i guess the dick/barbara scene was inevitable, especially given the... unresolved nature of their relationship in the flashbacks? and they’ve been through a rollercoaster together this episode, discovering and then destroying an incredible tool within a matter of hours, re-discovering just how well they work together as a team. dick’s swimming in the nostalgia. i don’t expect it to last as a long-term relationship, but i totally get why this is happening now. and hey, they’re cute!

i have a weeeirrrrd feeling that kory is going to leave to tamaran at the end of the season and that dick and kory will rekindle--or rather realise--their relationship just before that. it’s going to be devastating and beautiful and painful and i will be writing essays about it which would be me just wailing into the screen.

18. gar found molly!!!!!!! MOLLY’S BACK! \o/ gar is the BEST

19. that was a fun episode! i love this silly show, even if it does destroy me sometimes <3

#titans #titans spoilers #meta #dick grayson #barbara gordon #koriand'r #komand'r #garfield logan #jonathan crane #conner kent #a byronic cupcake #badass strawberry truffle #manic pixie pop tart

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life-rewritten · 4 years

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Flower Of Evil: A tiptoe into more psychopathology vs normalcy

So this is not full proof that this is the next drama this blog will focus on. However, I must say that after 4 episodes I have become seduced by the storyline of Flower of Evil. Instead of analysing the mystery of the show; how Do Hyun So ended up being framed up in this mess (plus what actually happened 18 years ago with his family). I want to focus again on psychology. In fact, my observations are that it seems this year’s theme of dramas is exploring the fight to be accepted when you are seen or have something psychologically wrong with you. So what’s up with Korea wanting to show the truth of people with ASPD on screen. There has been a portrayal of people with this disorder, not wanting to be known for what they have. They want to be known for what their potential could be if treated equally, focusing on their need to be in control and rational.

Psychopathology vs Normalcy

This shows up as massive bases for these two dramas. We are introduced to Go Moon Young, in Psycho, but it’s okay and Do Hyun So in this drama Flower of Evil. I love how both titles have the juxtaposition of two concepts in them. One is Psycho, but it’s okay; being seen as Psycho means you have something wrong with your mind, so you’re not meant to be okay. On the other hand, with Flower of Evil; flowers are typically perceived as beautiful and symbolise innocence, love and positivity, so evil is not meant to be connected with these two.

These titles correlate with the feelings our characters have with how the world perceives them vs what they actually think and want to be. They crave normalcy and warmth while the world believes they should be cold and emotionless. While it’s okay to not be okay aims to give a message about how people are all normal even if they struggle with what’s wrong with them, they still deserve love and warmth.

The Diagnosis

The similarities of both our character’s quest for freedom of trauma and abuse and need to be loved:

Do Hyun So is born with ASPD, unfortunately for him, people did not have a full understanding for it and as we are shown they believed he was possessed and continued to abuse him in need to try and eradicate what was wrong with him. Already he has been outcasted by everyone and society never to really have a place to fall on unless he starts again with no one knowing who he is. Meanwhile, Moon Young is forced and groomed into having ASPD. She doesn’t have ASPD, but judged because of her actions; taught to her by her mother. When young, Moon Young was isolated, and people viewed her as a monster, not understanding why she said or did the things she did. To protect who she loves, she also chased them away by showing them an action which was seen as monstrous. (chasing Gang Tae away by killing butterflies)

The Lover

Both become obsessed with someone who brings them a new perspective of wanting to be healthy. Ji Won shows up and falls for Hyun So immediately she sees him, she’s attracted to him and fights to be liked by him. Hyun So realises that she can be used to fake normalcy with his new identity and also understands that she helps his trauma (the ghost of his dad) disappear. Quite similar Gang Tae is attracted to Moon Young for saving his life and also fights to be liked by her when younger, she also realises he’s the prince that can introduce her to new emotions. However, he runs away when she tries to chase him away. And fights to succumb to his feelings when they are reunited because of how he perceives her. Ji Won doesn’t yet know her husband has ASPD and is hiding his identity, and now she is slowly uncovering the truth. Gang Tae is exposed to Moon Young from the start and runs away once he discovers it.

Both can be cruel when they want. Hyun So is to protect the people in his life (I’m sure if he murdered before it’s because he was protecting his sister or someone he cares about and in the act of defence or anger he does it) but he also uses cruelty to prevent his secret from coming out. Moon Young uses cruelty only to teach people realism and help people overcome their trauma. She believes there’s no need to shy away from the truth.

The Parent

Both have psychopath parents who are killers with no remorse. Hyun So father is apparently a serial killer who probably forced him to watch and learn his actions. And Moon Young has a mother with ASPD that killed people to make sure they don’t take her or her daughter to the hospital. Each parent is connected to the very root of the trauma both characters suffer from.

There is a need for both not to want to end up like their parent even though the world connects them to that.

Do Hyun So, has been on the run for his life for 18 years; adopted as another family’s son. He is also married with this identity and has a kid. He is now desperate to cover up his secrets and make sure no one finds out the truth. Moon Young also rewrote her life becoming famous, actively declaring her self as an orphan despite both her parents being alive, and accepted her fate to be alone and continue being emotionless/monster people viewed her as. Her wealth is protected by her being a well-renowned fairy-tale author. Again both of them have sought different transformations to escape their past while trying to be normal for the sake of it. Do Hyun So actively conceals his identity while Moon Young embraces parts of hers and works hard to erase her connection to her parents.

The Trauma

However, both have traumatic PTSD visions from their past. Do Hyun So starts seeing his father appear in front of him each time he’s angry or prone to react, and he becomes frightened and terrified. Moon Young has sleep paralysis because of nightmares of her mother pinning her to the bed and telling her she’ll kill anyone she lets into her life. Gang Tae provides Moon Young, a sleeping doll to take away her nightmares, and being with him teaches her to want to let go of her trauma. Ji Won also provides refuge for Hyun So because she makes his father’s vision disappear. Again the idea of love providing this place for them to feel safe and secure in becomes a theme as well in the show. Both have to stop trying to be in control in other to get healing, and right now Hyun So is breaking all his efforts little by little and its causing him to spiral. However the saying the truth will set you free is real, once his wife can see past his disorder and past, they both will help him get his name cleared and also maybe have a relationship that is based on their authentic selves being exposed.

The Mask

Flower of evil takes a different turn though as we try to uncover this murder case and who is framing Do Hyun So, it becomes apparent that Hyun So isn’t the psychopath killer people have labelled him as because of his ASPD. Instead, he tries hard to wear a mask where he practises fake smiles, fake emotions and counterfeit feelings by looking at cue cards that show those very same emotions. This is similar to the cue cards, Moon Young is shown by Gang Tae when he thought she didn’t understand feelings. These are used for his brother as well with autism.) The theme of PBIO was the unravelling of the masks and embracing the real person. I wonder if Flower of evil will continue on with that theme. So far, I am intrigued by the show.

The Truth

I believe that just as Moon Young, the reason why Hyun So is so desperate to control the narrative is that he knows people will keep labelling him because of his ASPD as a monster. No one will believe his truth or the reveal of his story of what happened in the past. No one would be able to vouch for him because they all thought he was crazy, and he also had a parent who was an actual serial killer, it makes it even harder to believe him. He instead retains this façade, though you see him show a little bit of hurt/resentment in episode 4 when Ji Won mentions his ASPD and uses it to connect his reasons for murder and her sheer belief that he is the murder suspect everyone is looking for. He isn’t happy but resigns himself to the fact that it will always be this way. What I think he doesn’t know is that his wife won’t be that way I predict, she’ll panic at first, but like she said at the beginning of episode 1 when she kisses him underwater, she will continue to love him unconditionally no matter what. So she will be the key to unveiling the real truth hopefully.

#flower of evil #psycho but it's okay #It's okay to not be okay #kdrama #kdramanet #analysis #lee joon ki #lee joon gi #moon chae won #fvete

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haemosexuality · 9 months

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some people are very mad at the implication that the LN world is ~All A Dream~ but i dont think thats exactly it? like to me it seems very clear that the ln world is a real place, and all that happens in it is real. i think that what's happening is that when they go to sleep, their consciousness is transported into this paralel reality (the Nowhere) and they leave once they awaken, but as they spent more and more time there they slowly succumb to whatever powers or entities rule that world and they become trapped there. its like. kind of like the dark worlds in deltarune, or the other world in coraline, or the upside down in stranger things, or the fear reality/ies in the magnus archives you get the idea

those entities seem to both feed off of and be created by childrens fear, a paradoxical "it exists because children fear it and children fear it because it exists" thing. in an interview a dev said that "something happened before in [the kids] lives that made them a good fit for little nightmares" and i think that "something" is being traumatized: you have more nightmares that way.

something interesting about six specifically is that she's always described as being from somewhere else, not belonging 'here', etc, one description even says she "awoke in a world she cannot recognize" which. straight up confirms shes Not From This World, but like, if all of the kids came here because of nightmares whats different about her? why do they apparently 'belong' in the nowhere but she doesnt? maybe she has, like, too much willpower to succumb to the powers or something and thus doesnt belong with the other kids trapped here who have all given up, but then again shes also described to be "fading away from this world" at the start of ln2 which does seem to mean that shes succumbing to it? like, giving up and fading away? idk idk

bandai website description, issue 1 of the comic

also from the bandai namco website. six's "terrible fate" might be her succumbing to depression or whatever but have no idea why guiding mono to the signal tower would be important? maybe its not actually about the tower and its just about having a purpose and a friend to hold on to so she still has hope

ok heres my tinfoil hat theory: obv the podcast, the devs, promotional material and concept art all seem to be saying that ''kids go to a nightmare world when they go to sleep and sometimes get trapped there" is whats happening, but this post theorizes that maybe the nightmares noone in the podcast is having are prophetic and like. the nightmares explained video says that "the nightmares are crossing into the real world". what if what happened is that vulnerable kids who kept having nightmares were going to this future reality where the world got fucked up because of these entities, and maybe whenever they succumbed to them the entities were able to use their bodies to cross into our world, which eventually led to them being able to take over? resulting in the future fucked up reality kids were going to in their dreams? its not like little nightmares is unfamiliar with time paradoxes thats basically what happened to mono. idk!!!!

i keep bringing up other media but im not really comparing them im just using similsr exampled to explain what i mean bc its so weird i cant think of how else to do it. anyways what if the kids who fully give up and succumb to the fear become like the goners frok undertale. everyone just forgets they ever existed

#this is just brainstorming i havent been able to stop thinking about this all day #i was resistant to the dream theory before bc i was quite attached to my ''six is a feral kid who grew up in the woods'' headcanon and that #doesnt work if shes just a normal kid from a other world who got isekaid to hell #but! with the podcast it seems like that rlly is where the plots going #so now im recontextualizing everything ik ab this game lol #also what does that make mono??? why the fuck does he randomly have powers????? is he also from a normal world????? oh god the questions #i haven't watched that video theory btw ive just seen quotes of it. i will at some point just not rn #little nightmares #the sounds of nightmares #please tell me if this makes no fucking sense im sleep deprived

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keyofjetwolf · 3 years

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We’re All Just Guys

Well it took the entire fucking season, but I FINALLY get the purpose for Henry Fondle: Sex Robot. And while the entire episode (and season, honestly) has been tremendous, that this ridiculous fucking punchline was the vehicle to deliver the overarching point with a solid knockout punch of meaning AND pathos? Absolutely floored. That BoJack Horseman can be (and often is) brilliant isn’t a surprise, but the ways is keeps proving it often are.

So “The Stopped Show”, a tale of accountability and responsibility and how we’re all just guys.

Each of our main characters closes out this season alone (sort of), in assorted stages of realizing the main themes, or completely failing to. I find Diane’s arc the hardest for me to make a decision on, which isn’t surprising, as I think in many ways, Diane’s the most complicated character in the show. She delivers, directly and succinctly, one of the major points of not just this season but the entire show, but how does it relate to her? I’M NOT COMPLETELY SURE. I think part of the problem with (and for) Diane is that she knows better. She’s the most insightful character, she has a fantastic head on her shoulders, but only for everyone else. She’s this fucked up little disaster prophet, her vision clear and her message concise, unable to ever apply her gifts to fix herself.

Diane is just as trapped as BoJack, but in a fun twist, is now lagging behind him in trying to do something about it. Nearly every single scene with Diane this season has been in this sad little room of her sad little apartment with all her sad little unpacked boxes, and no matter how much truth and wisdom she spits out, HERE SHE STILL IS, failing to correctly assemble IKEA furniture with names like Bȧcksleid. She already feels like shit for sleeping with Mr. Peanutbutter, so what does she do? THE SAME FUCKING THING. To which I groan and roll my eyes, while simultaneously being proud of her for directly and immediately setting him straight about not getting back together. Diane rides this constant line where she gets it but also doesn’t, which is so interesting to me in the level of additional frustration this makes me feel. BoJack is so self-absorbed you don’t really expect any better of him, which has the flip side of your expectations being so low that even the whiff of progress feels exceptional. Diane doesn’t come with any of that though, she knows better, you KNOW she knows better, and the consequence of this for the audience is that she winds up being more unlikeable than the guy who literally last episode nearly strangled his girlfriend and co-star in the middle of a paranoid drug-induced frenzy.

Which is fucked up! It’s intensely fucked up! And also, I think, the point! We expect more of Diane, and so feel more disappointed when she doesn’t deliver. Is that fair of us?

But there’s more here, as we pivot to the accountability portion of this episode/season. From the beginning of the show, it’s been incredibly upfront about how everything is unfair. We come back to this time and again. Privilege rules the day in the world of Hollywoo. Fame, money, charisma, gender, power. BoJack has been an asshole from pretty much the moment he set foot in the spotlight (possibly before?), and the only thing ever even attempting to hold him back has been the moments his guilt manages to scream loud enough to be heard over his internal narrative. Whatever he does, however he fucks up, he always stumbles back to his feet, and NEVER with any (broad scale) consequences. Meanwhile, here’s Diane, in her sad shitty apartment. Consequences haunt Diane, even if she’s the one doing the haunting. The crap things she’s done and the shitty choices she’s made cling to her.

There’s no fairness in that either, no justice. But Hollywoo (and the entire world around it) (and our world too oh yes) has that privilege carved into its bones, and Diane bears none of its marks. Her situation is very different from but parallel to Gina, who is just so fucked over, it keeps legitimately making me angry for her.

Gina, of course, brought none of this on herself. She made the mistake of caring about BoJack and trying to help him. OOPS YOU WERE A GENEROUS PERSON WITH AN OPEN HEART FUCK YOU LADY. For her trouble, Gina has been assaulted and traumatized, AND she is in very real danger of her career being over when it’s only just finally beginning. And she KNOWS THIS. That’s the part that I keep coming back to. All this should be an aberration, an anomaly, and while that may be true of the specifics, conceptually, it’s so commonplace that Gina already knows how it’s going to play. She’ll stop being Gina and become The Woman Nearly Strangled To Death By BoJack Horseman. Even if she’s able to keep working, this is what she’ll be asked about in every interview forever. Even if she convinced people to genuinely listen to her, BoJack would, at worst, get a slap on the wrist as he stumbles back to his feet. We know that, WE ALL KNOW THAT, because it happens all. the. fucking. time. Gina did nothing wrong, but this would still define her for the rest of her life, while for BoJack, it would maybe become a footnote on his Wikipedia page.

Nothing about that is FAIR. Nothing about it is JUST. Gina’s choices shouldn’t have to be “this becomes my entire life” or “swallow this down and pretend it never happened”. But it is, as it has been in perpetuity for the victims of the privileged.

So then what can we do about it? Well that’s really the question, isn’t it? This episode answers it in an assortment of ways (I think the entire SHOW is very much about this, really, but this episode is for sure coming with guns blazing), while also showing us why none of those answers can work. It’s funny and sad and awful and true, but also, ultimately, the most hopeful answer because it’s the only one you can actually affect: It’s you. It’s me. It’s each and every one of us, individually, making a choice to be better.

And believe it or not, we embody this with Henry Fondle: Sex Robot.

I thought the whole thing was so unbelievably stupid. Half the season, we’ve had this goddamn multi-dildo’d juvenile frat boy joke running around with its stupid ass Speak-and-Say voice, doing the same shtick over and over, and I’m like, “okay this is just the shit I have to put up with to get the clever stuff, I guess.” BUT THAT’S EXACTLY THE POINT I’M SITTING THERE LIVING THE ENTIRE GODDAMN POINT AND MISSING IT. Henry Fondle: Sex Robot is seventeen shades of overt horribleness, AND WE ALL JUST GIVE IT A PASS. It’s just the way it is, the way the world works, the price of doing business. When the whole time -- THE ENTIRE FUCKING TIME -- all it took was one person to say no. One person who could see the game we all are playing and was willing to give up everything to stop it.

Hilariously, Henry Fondle IS a metaphor, sort of, but of the saddest kind. He is literally a robot, he can’t possibly change. What’s more, media fervor will never affect him, fallout will never touch him, and the powerful will always rally around themselves to retain their power. It takes Todd, the head of the company, the creator of Henry Fondle, and the one person who would benefit most from the unending efforts of the rest of the world bending over backwards to avoid the truth, to put a stop to it. In doing so, he immediately returns to his old, homeless, destitute self, but doesn’t once hesitate or look back.

It’s Todd, and only Todd, that stops that madness, because while individual people are a problem, the world at large is too. Stefani makes a great point that Diane holds herself and everyone else to impossible standards and a little forgiveness and grace wouldn’t go amiss, but when Diane suggests they apply that philosophy to their clickbait gossipy shit on their website, it’s just

Which again, is beautifully cynical and depressing, but not untrue. Fostering a more forgiving culture isn’t in stopping websites from posting clickbaity takedown articles, it’s each person deciding not to take the clickbait. We can absolutely have a conversation about the people creating their world or the world creating its people, but when you boil it down, only one of those things can you yourself absolutely and directly change, and it’s not the entire world.

A THING DIANE GETS BUT SIMULTANEOUSLY ABSOLUTELY DOES NOT.

I can’t take myself away from this Diane thing, I know, but only because she’s the fucking CORE of each and every one of us struggling with this idea. She’s the simplicity of it and the complication all in one. Not BoJack, which is NOT where I thought we’d be when we started this journey. BoJack is more an action on the people around him at this point in the story, he IS the world you cannot change. He’s pointed to rehab, and off he goes -- or doesn’t! I don’t think it’s coincidence that we stay with Diane and watch her watching him.

Oh, Diane, indeed. As she tells her story of her friend Abby, who threw her over for the cool kids, who turned every confidence into a scar. Who Diane still helped anyway, because Abby needed her. Did Abby learn from that, did she get better? We don’t know; we stay with Diane and watch her watching Abby. Diane, who can so completely understand about personal responsibility while failing to recognize her own enabling for the shitty things that keep happening to her.

You can control yourself. That’s it. That’s the only playground with a guarantee.

Will BoJack go off to learn that? Will Diane stay and figure it out?

THAT’S WHAT NEXT SEASON IS FOR

Something I was toying with including in this, but ultimately decided against for a variety of reasons, was the contrast between BoJack’s take on personal responsibility independent of external response, and The Good Place’s argument that people need external support for personal growth. An idea I may not have even considered contrasting save that Doc’s talked before about these two Jewish creators with what are clearly very different philosophies, and basically, if she were ever able to manage a discussion between them on this, I’d love to be in the room. I’ll be very quiet and not get in the way, I promise.

#jet wolf watches bojack #a novel by jet wolf #this has been so hard to write and consolidate into a series of thoughts that made some measure of cohesive sense #i'm still not sure i've managed it #but i'm pretty sure i've kicked it around about as much as i'm able at this point #IT WORKS OR IT DOESN'T I DON'T KNOW FLY MY PRETTY

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tomboyneedshercoffee · 4 years

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Thin Ice Pt2 || Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Y/N and Peter’s slippery interaction on the ice leads to the beginning of a friendship.

Word Count: 2.6k

Author’s note: Sorry this part took so long I’ve been studying for my midterms! Also, this is one of the last times Y/N nerds out over snowboarding so I promise, I won’t have as many confusing references or anything like that! Also also, thank you to everyone who requested more parts and wanted to be added to the tag list! I’m super glad yall are enjoying this series!

Warning: Swearing!! But ughhhh that’s it

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || to be continued

You grabbed your skates from the counter and sat down on a wooden bench next to Cindy who was already done lacing up. The snow had stopped falling and left complete fluffy powder in its place and the air wasn’t as harsh or crisp as yesterday was.

This was Cindy’s big moment to shine; she was never seen as an athlete but boy did she love to show off when it came to her ice skating skills. You, on the other hand, weren’t the best at ice skating which didn’t really make sense to your friends since it’s kinda like snowboarding in terms of balancing. Nonetheless, you weren’t going to be the only person sitting out while the rest of your classmates had fun so you did your best to participate gracefully.

After getting your skates on (with much help from Cindy and Betty), you slowly got onto the ice and hung onto the wooden fencing.

You were all out there for almost two hours and you wondered when Mr. Harrington would call it quits for today but he was nowhere to be seen which worried you. This was your first-time ice skating outside on an actual lake and you were terrified you would fall through but the girls convinced you that you were just being paranoid.

“ Uhm, where is the trusted adult chaperone? I didn’t spend my savings trying just to slip through the ice and die,” You said in a jocking tone but the girls knew you were somewhat serious.

“ I don’t blame you, you’re probably still traumatized after Peter practically ran you over yesterday,” Cindy replied as she skated backwards so she could face you and Betty.

You held on to Betty’s hand tighter as some kids who couldn’t be older than eight whizzed by you. You felt your subconscious say to stick your leg out and trip them but you pushed those dark thoughts aside and tried to keep your cool.

You kept looking at the ground just in case you saw any cracks in the ice but you still rolled your eyes at Cindy.

“ For the last time, it was an accident. Besides, I think I look badass,” You pushed out your bottom lip and revealed the small gash from yesterday that was still healing,” I just hope Peter isn’t beating himself up about it.”

While the girls conversed with one another, Peter and Ned skated several feet away as Peter listened in on the conversation with his ‘spidey hearing’. He couldn’t help himself but when he started to feel guilty, he turned to Ned.

“ Maybe I should go talk to her. I don’t want her to think I forgot about what happened cause I feel-”

“ Insanely guilty yes, you’ve said it almost a hundred times within the last hour,” Ned interrupted as he shook his head,” but of course she didn’t forget. She has a huge cut on her lip to remind her what happened.”

Once again, Peter felt another wave of guilt before MJ skated beside him. He watched as your group skated further away and he felt his legs slow down. Say what you will about MJ, but she wasn’t the type to thrive off of people’s pain and suffering especially when her close friend was whining about a girl.

“ Don’t let this get to your head Peter, but she couldn’t stop talking about you last night in the hotel room. It’s safe to say that she forgives you indefinitely,” MJ said plainly as if that wasn’t the best news Peter could’ve heard.

Peter stopped in his tracks completely,” Are you serious? What did she say about me? Please please please tell me-”

“ Parker!” Cindy shouted as she bumped into him harshly which caused you and Betty to fall over towards Cindy.

You and Betty both fell onto your hands and knees as you thanked the universe that you didn’t smash your face in once again.

You ignored the gasps from your friends as you tried to push yourself up with your hands. Your legs wobbled and you gave up, sinking to your knees to avoid further embarrassment. As MJ and Cindy helped Betty up, Peter rushed over on his skates and slid over to you with his hands out.

“ Y/N, I am the worst person in the world I’m sorry,” Peter apologized and you felt like you were having major deja vu.

You reached up towards Peter as he lifted you back onto your feet but since he pulled you up so fast, you fell forward again, leaning up against his chest. Peter stabilized his feet and held onto your waist, making sure you didn’t take both of you down.

You hung onto his shoulders as you pressed up against him more, your feet shifting nervously. While you could hide your blush against his chest, your friends could all see that the cold wasn’t the only thing making his face looked flushed.

Peter’s mind was buzzing as you squeezed him tighter; oh my fucking god this is really happening right now.

“ Y/N, um, you can open your eyes. You’re not going to fall,” Peter consoled you softly as you nodded, opening your eyes.

You looked up at Peter and you pulled away when you realized how you were mere centimeters from his face. You let go of his shoulders and instinctively grabbed his hand instead so you didn’t fall over again. Peter looked down at you hands and gave you a reassuring squeeze.

“ Thanks, Pete. I guess you redeemed yourself from yesterday,” You gushed as you looked down at your interlocked fingers. Even though you were both wearing gloves, you still felt weird holding his hand in front of everyone to see.

You pulled away and awkwardly dropped your arms to the side as Mr. Harrington called out that it was time to explore the shops in the snow village. You gave one last look at Peter and smiled softly before shuffling over to the exit with Betty and Cindy.

“ Ooooo Y/N and Peter sitting-”

You turned to Cindy and you weren’t sure if it was the soreness of your feet or how little sleep you got last night but your playful push turned into a hard one as you pushed Cindy into the snow with a soft thud. Cindy whined as you and Betty rushed to help her up to her feet.

“ What were you saying?” Betty teased as Cindy let out a mocked laugh.

“ Ha ha way to treat your friends.”

After lunch, Mr. Harrington set all the students loose to look around the shops. Each had their own little gimmick like On the Edge Snowwear or Snowbunnies R Us.

You bent down to be eye level with one of the shelves that had a colorful array of snow goggles and studied the snow goggles as if it was the Mona Lisa. As you picked one up, you watched Brad come over to you from the corner of your eye but you kept your attention to the shelf.

“ Really? Another pair of goggles? You have almost a dozen at home,” Brad said as he clicked his tongue and took the one you were holding out of your hand,” oh my god Y/N these cost more than the plane ticket!”

You grabbed the goggles back from him and shook your head,” They’re not just any goggles, they’re limited edition from the 2018 winter Olympics, see?”

You pointed at the band on the side of the goggles and showed him the rings with the flag of South Korea beside it.

Every student at Midtown had their own obsession; Flash was into expensive cars and was always at car shows during the weekends, Betty’s skin was always glowing because she’s completely obsessed with Korean facemasks and feels the need to have collections of the same one, and Peter was strangely in love with Spiderman because he would always talk about how cool he was and asking everyone around him if they felt the same way.

Your weird obsession was snowboarding and watching food ASMR videos but you decided to keep one of those things a secret.

“ It was the year for snowboarding I mean come on, Shaun White won the most snowboarding medals at one Winter Olympics and Chloe Kim brought home the gold she’s our age!”

You pulled out your phone and took a picture of the goggles before putting them back on the shelf. You could tell how disinterested Brad was but that didn’t stop you from taking a picture of the whole shelf altogether.

When you stood back up, you looked across the shop and watched Peter and Ned laughing over one of the corny t-shirts on the rack. Peter felt your gaze on him but when he looked up at you, you moved your gaze to a random shelf.

Brad looked at Peter and then back at you,” Is there something going on between you and Parker?”

“ What makes you say that?” You asked as you walked over to the window where you watched MJ slam a pile of snow into Flash’s face.

You knew exactly what he was asking but you had already put that embarrassment behind you and you didn’t want to relive it.

“ You two were pretty cuddly on the ice this morning. Just be careful, I don’t want him to hurt you again.”

There was something a little harsh in Brad’s voice and you already knew something was up with him. Brad’s temper was always like rolling a pair of dice; some days nothing annoyed him while other days would set him over the edge.

Whenever he used that voice, that meant you got the luxury of deciding how he would be handled in that place and time.

“ Careful now, you sound a bit jealous,” You said, almost studying his face as he clenched his jaw,” what’s going on inside that head of yours Davis?”

“ Why would I be jealous of him?” He asked bitterly as you put your hands up in defense,” I’m telling you to be careful or you’re going to end up in the medic station again.”

There was something definitely wrong but you were already so tired from this morning and decided not to fight this battle.

“ Hey look, I’m just playing around. Is something wrong?”

Brad ignored you, turned around, and pushed through the doors as he left you standing there in the middle of the store. You didn’t bother chasing after him because you knew how he was when he was annoyed. Besides, you were on this trip to have fun, not babysit.

You looked around the store and when you made eye contact with Peter again, you decided to put your embarrassment aside and walk over to him.

“ I couldn’t help but notice your burning gaze from across the room,” You teased as Peter laughed,” tell me, do you come here often?”

He was glad that there was nothing awkward between the two of you, especially considering what had happened this morning with how close the two of you were. He set down the snowglobe he picked up and stuffed his hands in his pocket, trying to get the image out of his head before his whole face turned red.

“ Oh sure. I love spending my free time at a store called Tis the Ski-son boutique.”

He followed you as you both walked out of the store side by side, leaving with no other purchases. Peter wrapped his scarf around him tighter, even though he was slightly embarrassed for being cold (which of course didn’t make any sense) while you breathed in the cool air.

You watched your feet as you listened to the snow crunch from underneath you, almost getting lost in an icy trance.

Time always felt slower when it snowed outside and yet, this trip was going by so fast. You only had a few more days left before the trip would be over and you knew you would miss it already.

You watched Peter who looked so uncomfortable out in the cold and tried to find a store to settle in for a bit.

“ Edgewater Cafe has really good hot chocolate if you want to check it out?” You offered as Peter nodded his head, almost too eagerly.

You and Peter had quickly shuffled over to the cafe and once you got inside, you could feel Peter melt beside you, feeling at peace in the warm coco shop. When you ordered for the both of you, Peter insisted that he paid and even slapped your hand away while you tried to give the cashier your card.

He claimed it was his treat but you both knew it was a way to apologize for both yesterday and today’s events.

Peter found a quiet area in the corner and sat on one side of the couch as you took the other. You both brought the cup to your lips at the same time but you watched him as he took a small sip with his eyes closed.

“ So, what do you think?” You asked as you took a sip, savoring the rich chocolate.

Peter nodded and took another sip before putting resting the cup back onto his thigh,” Okay, it’s not bad but I wouldn’t say it’s the best.”

“ Oh come on! Where else can you get hot chocolate this gourmet?”

“ If by gourmet you mean a cocoa mix with boiling water then yeah, I guess it is gourmet.”

You shook your head at him as you took another sip, not caring what he thought. You watched Peter as he rubbed his finger up and down against the cup as if he was deep in thought.

Out of nowhere, Peter’s heart started to race and he was glad that you couldn’t tell the difference. It finally hit him that you two were hanging out alone, which rarely ever happened unless you two were doing a school project or shared the same subway home.

You felt this too and decided to break the tension,” This isn’t weird, right? Like us hanging out? Alone?”

Yes.

“ No, why would it be weird?” Peter asked as his voice cracked slightly.

You shrugged and took another sip before putting the cup down on the table. This was definitely weird but for some reason, you didn’t mind. You had a pretty good radar on people and Peter never seemed like a creep so you felt at ease.

“ I don’t know to be honest. We’re classmates but I never really knew if we were friends or not,” You admitted as you watched Peter’s smile fall,” I mean, do you want to be friends with me?”

You shook your head and laughed, your mind processing what you had just offered,” I know that sounds childish like we’re in kindergarten or something but yeah, I guess what I’m saying is that I think we should be friends. Does that sound childish?”

Peter didn’t know what to think. He felt like he had just gotten friend-zoned but on the other hand, being friends was a step up from what you two originally were.

Of course, Peter wanted to just spill everything about his not so small crush on you but relationships take time. If he had to wait and be friends with you, he would gladly take that.

“ It does sound childish..but yeah. I want to be friends with you,” Peter said as you both shared a sweet smile,” does this mean we have to make friendship bracelets or something?”

“ I’m two steps ahead of you Pete,” You picked up your cup which was almost empty by now and lifted it up towards Peter,” how about a toast...to new friendships.”

Peter lifted his cup and pressed it against yours as his heart slammed against his ribcage,” To new friendships.”

@yeahimcrying @greatpizzascissorstaco @mysticalbanshee @weyheyavengers @infinityflamesworld @peterparkoure @fandom-fangirl22 @holland-in-disguise

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hazelsheartsworn · 3 years

Text

UPDATE: THE KIDS AREN’T ALRIGHT

THE KIDS AREN’T ALRIGHT | CH 2: “(Can’t Get My Head Around You”

Summary: A series of memories from both Cardan's and Jude's POV about Cardan's descent/ascent to that mean feral Prince and then King of Elfame. This is mostly to add more background to his traumatic childhood and to highlight more of Cardan's cruelty that Jude mentions in the book. Basically, Cardan is yes, soft for Jude, but neither he nor Jude are good people. This will mostly switch between Jude and Cardan POV, but the memories will go roughly chronologically to show Cardan's growing cruelty.

Rating: Maybe I’ll go there, Maybe I won’t

AO3 | Masterlist

Chapter 2:“(Can’t) Get My Head Around You”

WC: 1277

[JUDE POV - during Jude’s exile in the Mortal World]

“Now, stuck in the mortal world for good, I miss Faerieland with a raw intensity. It’s magic I long for, magic I miss. Maybe I even miss being afraid. I feel as though I am dreaming away my days, restless, never fully awake.” (Black, The Queen of Nothing p. 8)

Nights are no better, especially in the height of summer. Without the machinations of court to keep my focus, I recall every memory, every observation, every exchange, determined to find the trick or sleight of speech that signaled his crowning dupe.

Each evening I toss and turn, I stare at the ceiling fan, the monotonous spin of its blades matching the bead of my restlessness. I hate how foolish I was, almost as much as I hate Cardan, his trickery, his maliciousness. It’s these memories of him that visit my dreams, unbidden.

I sleep fitfully, my mind snatching at memories like a claw machine at the arcade where Oak likes to go. When it catches a prize, the claw retracts slowly, stuttering the whole way back to the prize basin because the arcade owner has been remiss in greasing the horizontal axis. Similarly, I am dragged through a memory, my brain stuttering with the hazy details.

I don’t remember much of Cardan before he started to attend Faerie school lessons. Vaguely, I recall he didn’t attend when Taryn and I started. I remember several years of mostly un-harassed learning, from when we first arrived and shaken and quickly aware just how dangerous Faerie was for mortals. In the early days, Vivi attended as well, determined to stare down those that gawked at us, the doubled mortals. Though, I suspect she also wanted to deter any attachment to our new home. Eventually, she grew tired with the lessons, bolder in her defiance, and exasperated with our earnestness to fit in and survive. She stopped attending, and soon, Cardan arrived.

His first week completely upset the routine of classes. He disrupted lessons whenever and wherever he could. If lessons were outside he stood apart from the rest of us and found anything around to hold his attention. If he didn’t outright ignore us, he made everyone shout repeatedly before he deigned to understand. Whenever he finally sat, he refused to write down any notes. Instead, he would toss his quill in the air or keep it aloft with his breath.

A flashback solidifies. All were inside during a storm and the lessons were altered to accommodate the change in weather. We children sat on benches at the long tables of the throne room. The alternative lesson went over “Epistolary Etiquette and Penmanship” meant to train the children of the Gentry into some manner of missive competency. I remember how odd it was to see the room still so alluring even without the excitement and pomp of a revel. Instead of platters heaped high with food, there were sheafs of paper and extra quills. Above each letter station, empty snail shells held black squid ink. There was a certain type of serenity and symmetry to the set-up.

Most sat quickly, skimming fingers over the feather of the quills or the paper enjoying the touch and sound each action offered. Cardan, with some remark about being a prince sat at the head of the long table, squared to the teacher. He was silent, watching everyone else while he leaned on the table, one hand holding his chin, the other idly twirled a quill through his fingers. I know this because I noticed how long and elegant his fingers were, even then. With each twirl, the feather teased through his fingers and softly brushed against the paper. The soft swish of the feather vane on the paper soothed opposite to the scratching sound against the paper. This seems an odd detail to notice, but I am caught by the absence of the sound. I look back to Cardan’s seat and strain, in vain, to hear the susurration of the teacher, who is currently bent over gesturing with the quill in a mimic of writing. Cardan huffed a sigh as the teacher moved on. Cardan began to make loud farting sounds, timed to the cadence of the teacher’s steps around the room. In an effort to ignore it, let the antic fall flat and unnoticed, the teacher sat at the far end of the hall.

Everything moved slowly then. With arms bent to his face, and wrists touching, Cardan braced both palms to his mouth. Taking a large breath he rushed all the air from him creating the loudest mock of flatulence yet, all just as the teacher bent to settle into the seat of the chair. Young Cardan falls from his own seat, bursting into winded guffaws of laughter and accomplishment. The class falls into titters, starting with a few snickers until we all join in. Red-faced and baited, the teacher began a shouting tirade. It was like tennis to watch the teacher bluster and Cardan return a volley of taunts. We all bounced our focus from one to the other until the teacher struck a nerve about Cardan’s inability to write.

For a beat, Cardan glares, hyper focused until he starts laughing again. He steps onto his chair and then stands on the table. He whoops and hollers as he works his way down the tables, kicking aside all the writing accoutrements. Closer, he kicks his nearest quarry and a snail shell strikes my forehead. Inadvertently, I squawk indignantly before I can catch myself. He zeroes in on me as the source.

I try to look away, but Taryn nudges me to look forward. Cardan is crouched before me, leaned forward to look at me, at my forehead. His eyes seem to show concern before his smile changes their shape. Very slowly, while our eyes are locked, he straightens himself up. I was too entranced by the black depths of his irises to notice that he’s grasping a full ink pot. He waits until I notice it in his hand before he turns his wrist. All the ink pours from the pot onto my parchment and splashes over my entire face and neck. My mouth is gaping in shock when I crane my neck to glance at him again. As he flicks the pot away from his fingers, his grin is baleful. When I flinch from the movement, it grows pernicious.

As he turns and continues to wreck the class, I frustratedly slam my fists in my lap.

I jolt awake and notice my hands are balled up into fists against my thighs. I must have mimicked the action from my dream. As I unclench my hands and rub the sleep from my eyes, I try to dissect what I can from the past. At this age, Cardan was new to Balekin’s tutelage. As I’ve learned, he was wild and uncouth before this. I piece it together now that Cardan didn’t know how to write yet. His actions must have been his way to avoid the work and embarrassment. A traitorous part of me feels weak with compassion for this feral illiterate child that I’ve remembered. Who, I wonder, taught Cardan to read and write? Did he falter or throw fits or was he a quick study? A prideful part of me knows it’s the latter, that his skill with words became a crucial tool of torment.

I turn to my side and groan audibly. I’m frustrated; by this memory, remembering that the ink stained my face for weeks after that class; by my aching heart that still holds fast to the emotions of my wedding night; and by the fact that I won’t return to sleep any time soon. Sluggish, I hoist myself up and out of bed. I grab a throw blanket on my way out and shuffle to the living room of the apartment. Tonight, I’ll have to watch hours of infomercials and hope to drift off again.

END NOTES: In HTKOELTHS by Holly Black, Cardan is 9+ “not so many years' when he moves into Hollow Hall; then starts official school in Faerie. So, I assumed that before he’s living at Hollow Hall, the “doing as he pleased” never included any informal learning or skills. So, early enough in attending school, he’s probably not literate in reading or writing. It could be a huge source of shame for him and I imagine he’d be really oppositional-defiant when pressed to do anything involving reading or writing early on. (remember that Balekin indicates when he takes Cardan in that his hospitality includes a new wardrobe, training in etiquette, Faerie school, and punishment by glamoured mortals)

Thank you, @coffee-and-corsets for beta-reading!

#THE KIDS AREN'T ALRIGHT #offspring songs as chapter and fic titles #reading and writing and ink spills #jurdannet #jurdan #cardan x jude #fanfic #my writing #my post

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diavolodigitale · 3 years

Text

L’appel Du Vide: 01 What a Way to Start

Not that anybody is really reading it here, but I decided to follow through with this story no matter what.

All chapters: 00 - 01 - All stories in PDF

Rhys is the CEO of Atlas and Jack’s AI is back, surprise, surprise! Now Rhys is dismayed, Jack doesn’t care much, and the events of Borderlands 3 are just beginning to unravel. Is there any way to fix the plot of this game? Would it be any better if Rhys had to cooperate with Jack this whole time? Well, this is your chance to find out!

Spoiler: yes, dammit, it would. Everything’s better with a bit of Handsome Jack in it.

Genres: Fix-It, Developing Relationship, Alternate Canon, POV Third Person, Humor, Drama, Plot-driven (kind of? well, it has plot)

Pairing: Handsome Jack’s AI/Rhys (they’re still just talking, dammit)

Characters: Handsome Jack’s AI, Rhys

Rating: M for Mature but not in this chapter lol

Size: around 3000 words (chapter 2/11)

Sun set and rose, another day began. Rhys shaved off his moustache.

“Mornin’, sleeping beauty,” said Jack, who was sitting in Rhys’ chair when the latter one entered his office wearing only red bathrobe and home slippers.

“Morning,” replied Rhys, eying Jack wearily. Jack almost expected him to be surprised by his presence all over again, but it seemed like Rhys did not, after all, convince himself that the events of the previous day were just a dream, which, depending on how one looks at it, might even be considered personal growth. “Let me say how much I appreciate you not stalking me while I sleep. Just so you knew,” he said, painfully aware of Jack’s realness and determination to stay.

“Actually,” began Jack, idly following Rhys’s movements around the room with his gaze, “I watched you for some time, but your face looked so stupid that I started having these fits of hysterical laughter, so I left not to wake you up accidentally. I care for you so much, after all, and… Hey!”–he suddenly sat upright in the chair and pointed at Rhys’s hunched miserable figure–“that thing from your face disappeared! I could’ve sworn I saw it yesterday...”

“And now it’s gone,” concluded Rhys with a sigh.

“Phew, great job, pal. It was so awful, I cannot even begin to describe.”

“What? I thought you liked it,” said Rhys, nonplussed.

“Yeah, about that… I lied. Didn’t want to tell you this, but with that moustache, I wouldn’t let my kids anywhere near you,” said Jack and cackled.

Rhys scowled. He got rid of his moustache precisely because Jack told him he liked it, even despite the fact that it was particularly hard for him, considering the meaning it supposedly held. Since the day before he had this strange desire to do everything in opposition to Jack. Perhaps, it was deeply rooted in his former traumatic experience with the AI. Or in the fact that he had always been kind of mischievous, either one of those two.

“I see you’re in a good mood today,” said Rhys, making himself a morning coffee. He couldn’t say the same thing about himself – half of the night he spent persuading himself not to bang his head on the wall until Jack left for good. As a temporary means, it was as good as anything, but certainly wouldn’t be a reliable way to get rid of the AI forever. In any case, it seems not to have worked for Rhys previously, so he had to come up with something else. Changing the prosthetics took time, and he didn’t have that precious resource at his disposal in the needed amount.

In the end, when he finally managed to fall asleep, it was at the thought that he was actually a little sorry for what happened with Jack’s hologram during their last confrontation. Despite all the evil Jack had done, he used to be a significant part of Rhys’s life and helped shape him into what he was now. Most importantly, he taught him not to trust anybody and to always swing for the fences. Now, being the CEO of Atlas, Rhys could clearly see that this strategy worked perfectly.

“Oh, by the by, I took some time to look through your files and check out this Kawatagi guy we talked about yesterday. Must say, he’s a very promising candidate. Maybe, I should’ve chosen him as my successor instead of you-know-who,” said Jack in a conspiratorial tone, stroking his chin and narrowing his eyes. “Instead of you, I’m talking about you,” he added in a normal voice.

Rhys sighed, gently lowering two sugar cubes into his coffee. Here we go again.

“First, why the heck did you rummage in my computers without my permission? Second, his name’s Katagawa, more precisely – Katagawa Junior. And a candidate for what? Wait, don’t say anything, I don’t even want to know. Now get out of my chair,” said Rhys and proceeded to try and shoo Jack away with a few careless waves of his hand.

“It’s not like you can’t sit here. I’m just a hologram, you know.”

Jack was grinning, of course. Rhys looked down at him with his tired sleepless eyes and sighed the fortieth time this morning.

“Remember when we first met, you called me weird? Now you’re the one being weird, congratulations.”

“Oh, come o-o-on, don’t be so bo-o-oring.” Jack disappeared from the chair and reappeared on the sofa, lying on his side with his head resting on his hand. “You know, I think I’ve now seen enough of you to bet with confidence that you don’t have any friends. I bet I was your closest friend (and don’t forget that I was your imaginary closest friend), ‘cause I don’t see how someone can tolerate that attitude for long.”

Don’t worry, Rhys, he won’t get to you, you’re thick-skinned now, you know that, thought Rhys and put his mug on the table. He sunk into his chair and turned on the ECHO device to check for any new messages.

“Actually, I do have friends,” he said in his best I-am-not-offended tone.

“Yeah? Anybody in particular?”

“Zer0, for example. I am proud to call him my friend and I’m sure he’s proud to be called mine.”

“Zer0, yeah… wait, who’s that again?”

Rhys rolled his eyes. Some things just never changed.

“One of the vault hunters who… took part in your elimination, so to put it,” he answered carefully.

“Oh, yeah, that filthy bandit, I remember him! Well, not him killing me, of course, but I think I saw him somewhere. Didn’t he have that mental condition? I remember him saying some gibberish instead of speaking like normal people do. Yeah, right,”–Jack laughed–“I can see you two dorks being friends.”

“How could I have survived this long without you trying to offend me all the time? Unbelievable.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking! Or was that still your thought? I always forget I’m in your head. Anyway, to summarize our conversation so far, we’ve established that you’re a pathetic loner with only one creature in the whole world you can call a friend of sorts. You never seize to amaze me, Rhys.”

“There’s also Vaughn,” said Rhys through his teeth, beginning to lose his patience.

“And that is…?”

“You remember Vaughn, don’t you?”

“If I’m asking who that is, then, apparently, I don’t,” answered Jack, making the irritation in his voice sound as blatant as possible. “Why do you carry around that thing people call a head, huh?”

“He used to work for Hyperion with me.” Rhys threw a quick glance at Jack, looking for any sign of recognition on his face, but there was none. “Is short, wears glasses?” Still no signs. “Has a six-pack?” he said in his last desperate attempt to make Jack’s memory serve its purpose.

To his surprise, it actually worked. Jack snapped his fingers and rolled over on the sofa.

“Oh, that ne-erd, yeah, I remember him. Where’s he now?” he asked, not even trying to pretend that he really cared about the answer.

“He’s on Pandora, doing some bandit stuff. Guess he is working for the…” Rhys suddenly stopped, hastily thinking about what he had almost let out.

“For whom?” asked Jack indifferently. The answer still didn’t matter much to him, but he just couldn’t bear the thought of Rhys keeping something hidden from him.

“For the… err… for, well, you know… coughmson coughders,” replied Rhys, sounding like he was choking on something, and started loudly typing on the table, pretending that he was incredibly busy with his emails.

“What? Didn’t quite catch that.”

“Rimzon raide-ez,” indistinctly said Rhys into his fist and cleared his throat.”

“God dammit, Rhys, what the fuck are you saying there?” shouted Jack with annoyance and jerked up from the sofa. “Should I stand right behind you all the time to know what comes out of your mouth? Even your thoughts are more distinct than that.”

Perhaps, scared by the prospect of Jack constantly following him closely, even closer than he already did, Rhys gave in.

“It’s the Crimson Raiders, for god’s sake!” he yelled and landed his fist heavily on the table. He then took a deep breath to calm down and added, “He works for the Crimson Raiders. I just didn’t want to tell you.”

“O-oh. O-o-o-oh, I see how it is. He’s with team idiots now, isn’t he? Well, good to know. Now we’ve proven that all your friends are either stupid or nonexistent. Great.”

Rhys’s left eye was glowing as he was interfacing with the devices in his office. He took a sip of his coffee, scrolled down the list of new casualties reports and tried not to take what he had heard close to his heart.

“Now that I got my daily dose of humiliating you, let’s talk business,” said Jack and laced his fingers together as if he had a very profitable offer for his interlocutor. “I think we can squeeze something out of this Katamaga,” he began, and Rhys immediately exerted himself. He did not like the sound of that. “I think there’s more to him than you see. He doesn’t just want Atlas, you see, he very obviously wants you to work with him. What a fool! That’s a perfect opportunity for us to rob him of everything he has, including his pathetic corporation. I mean, I never liked Maliwan, but if it’s a gift horse… Who am I not to take it on your behalf, right?”

“I appreciate the thought you put into it, but I already have another plan, and it definitely isn’t allying with Katagawa Jr. He’s an obsessed psychopath and I don’t want anything to do with him,” replied Rhys confidently. He shivered even at the possibility of having another Jack-like associate.

“Enlighten me then. What genius idea has your corporate mind produced?”

“First, you have to promise not to yell at me. My head aches and I won’t endure any more than you already being here and talking to me,” said Rhys patiently, already predicting Jack’s reaction to what he intended to share. There was no way to keep it a secret, so he wanted to at least soften the blow.

“Yeah, whatever,” said Jack and yawned.

Rhys braced himself. Discussing this would surely be no easy matter.

“I want to make a deal with Lilith. She helps me defeat maliwans, and I give her something she wants in return.”

There was silence. Then there was a snarl and a nondescript squeal.

“WHAT. THE FUCK. ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?! MM, RHYSIE, WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN?” Jack appeared standing on Rhys’s table right before him. The sight made Rhys spit out a bunch of his coffee. “You’re joking, right?” Jack squatted down to see Rhys’s face when he spoke. “Out of a-a-all people in these 6 goddamn galaxies you choose her? I see you’ve been a very bad boy in daddy’s absence, completely out of your mind!”

Rhys raised his index finger and burbled, “You told me you won’t yell. I specifically asked you not to yell, Jack.”

“What am I supposed to do then, huh?!” Jack disappeared and in the next second was already standing at the window with his arms crossed, thoughtfully observing the Atlas soldiers running around outside. “I thought you can’t disappoint me more than you already have, but it seems like you always manage to conquer new heights.”

“Look, there’s really no point in talking about this. I’m my own boss now and this is my decision. I was the one to rebuild Atlas from ruins, so I’m sure I’ll be able to take care of it. Please, Jack, I’m tired and sick and I don’t want all this.” Rhys sighed wearily and rubbed a coffee stain on the table with the sleeve of his bathrobe.

“Okay. Okay-okay-okay-okay, hear me out. Just this one time, just once, let me tell you something.” Jack turned to Rhys and Rhys gave him a little nod after considering for a few seconds. It’s not like he really had a choice, he just liked to think he had a firm grip on the situation. “Tell me, do you remember Lilith doing something, anything for the sake of somebody else?”

“Um, yeah, she killed you, actually,” replied Rhys confidently.

“No-no-no, honey, she didn’t do it for somebody, she just wanted to have her revenge on me,” said Jack, stressing what he viewed as essential pieces of information to make sure Rhys REALLY got what he wanted to say. Were he not a hologram, he would probably be shaking with rage as he did it. “She wanted to destroy me, because I destroyed her boyfriend who just wouldn’t let me wipe those bandit asses, which, by the way, included his, off my planet. She couldn’t care less about all those people that died, about Crimson Raiders, about her other “friends”. She is a murderer, just like you, me, like any other person on that goddamn planet. The only difference is that she, unlike us, didn’t have ANY good will.”

Jack’s intense stare made Rhys turn away. AI’s words made him consider what he knew of Lilith, but he felt almost wrong when doing so. He shook his head, trying to scare the thoughts away.

“You just hate her, that’s all. She may not be the best option, but when choosing between her and Maliwan, I believe, the choice is obvious.

“Is it? Is it, though?” asked Jack furiously with his eyes almost bulging out. “Let me tell you one thing. Two things, actually. Despite how surprising it might sound to you, I’m actually happy that she killed me. You know why? Of course, you don’t, otherwise we wouldn’t have this conversation now, dummy. So, I’ll be kind enough to explain. Even after her betrayal, I didn’t finish her off, which means I am better than her. “What is the second thing, Jack?” you might ask. Well, here goes: she is a stinking bandit. A bandit, and the only thing you should do with bandits is kill them, but I’m sure this much you should know by now.” After finishing his rant, Jack exhaled loudly and adjusted his unmoving hair with a swift motion of his hand. To top his speech off, he asked, “Still better than Katagawa?”

Rhys, however, still remained unimpressed.

“Jack, he killed his entire family to become the CEO of Maliwan. I imagine you would think it’s a reasonable thing to do when you want to run the corporation so bad, but I’m sure you know I disagree with that.”

“And what do YOU know about his family?” asked Jack, clearly upset by the lack of expected reaction. “Do you even know anything about the way he runs Maliwan? The only thing I know is that now they are more successful than ever (even though I hate to say it). Use your brains, kid, and you’ll go further than you could’ve hoped. One of these two alliances will bestow endless opportunities upon you while the other one will almost certainly get you stabbed in the back.”

“I hear you. I hear you and I disagree. I’m sorry, Jack,” said Rhys and shook his head apologetically. He was already imagining what would such a start of his day lead to.

“Oh my god, how can you not see that you have more in common with him than a skag and a grinder! He sees something in you, and that something makes him crave for your favor with such persistence. Just imagine how much you can squeeze out of him if you give him the tiniest thing in return. It’s simply a gold mine!”

“He wants us to merge, that’s enough of a reason for me to refuse him,” said Rhys with utter disgust.

“So what? Don’t worry about that, cupcake, you’ve got me, and I’m here to help. Who says we’re gonna merge?” Noticing how Rhys was shaking his head again, Jack leaned closer, trying to make the atmosphere more… companionable, and continued in a calmer voice. “Believe me, I know that Atlas is your child and you would never sacrifice it. We’re gonna… adjust the conditions a little, little tiny bit. No merge, only the alliance. How does that sound?”

Rhys thought that Jack was once again confirming what a masterful negotiator he was. No matter what objections Rhys had, he always did his homework and learned his weaknesses. The long-forgotten feeling of a threat sitting right at his side returned to Rhys as he caught himself thinking over the possibility of allying with Maliwan. Don’t budge, Rhys, don’t let him see that you have second thoughts, he’ll eat you alive.

“Completely unachievable,” he was only able to utter.

“Come on, stop screwing around, will you? You’re wasting time with your fidelity to stupid principles. Have I ever given you any bad advice?”

Rhys chose not to say anything. It was as good an answer as any other. The leftover coffee in his mug already went cold and he frowned in disgust when sipping on it.

“Okay then, I’m beginning to grow real tired of this, so you better listen here, you little dipshit, and listen carefully…” Jack’s tone was once again peremptory and his eyes were drilling into Rhys’s soul. “I’m tryna help here, so stop pretending you’re a princess who lives in a tower filled with her little cute ponies and chooses to believe there’s no filth around her. Just do what I say and you’ll be on your road trip to success. And you’ll thank me later, believe me. If you choose not to do this, however, I’ll follow you around all the time, saying what a sore loser you are. All day, all night, Rhysie. You know me, I’m restless, and I can come up with millions of ways to make you hate your life. You won’t sleep, you won’t talk to anybody, you won’t eat your fucking lunch without me standing one centimeter away from your ear, whispering how much you suck. Now let that sink in. Once it has, give me your final answer.”

Jack’s eyes were glowing. His whole body was glowing because he was a hologram, that’s just what holograms do. Yet even though it was his permanent state, an unchangeable condition, his eyes looked different.

He really is serious, thought Rhys to himself. Well then, guess I’m going to die of starvation, sleep deprivation, and lack of human contact.

“Fuck you, Jack. Fuck. You.”

“Is that a yes?”

#borderlands #borderlands 3 #tales from the borderlands #handsome jack #handsome jack's ai #rhys #rhys strongfork #handsome jack x rhys #fiction #fanfiction #fix-it #alternate canon #drama #humor #romance #l'appel du vide story

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amlovelies · 3 years

Text

should be

pairing: Mason/f!oc (Serena Willis)

rating: M some light smut as well as recollection of violent and traumatic experiences (kidnapping/child abuse)

words: 1.3k

This is part of my “Just another Liability” AU. This scene would take place after Just a nobody and before liability

I should feel safe and secure in my room. I don’t know if there is anywhere that I could be safer. The Agency doesn’t skimp on security. The unit is either here with me or out on patrol keeping an eye on things, but I still can’t bring myself to turn off the light on my bedside table. Plenty of people sleep with a night light. It’s fine, besides its not like anyone will know. No one needs to know how the dark seems to collapse in on me. No one needs to know how it feels like a physical weight pushing the air out of my lungs. No, I just don’t want to stub my toe if I have to get up to pee.

I’m fine.

I can’t make it through the night. The dreams are violent. The unit never arrives. He breaks me and smiles. I wake with a gasp muscles twitching as if the electricity was still running through them. Even with the light, the room feels too dark, too constricting, too alone.

I need fresh air. Maybe with the open sky above me the panicked thudding of my heart will slow and my body will figure out that we are safe. I’m almost to the front door when I remember Adam’s words. I could go into the living room and open a window, but I don’t think that’ll be enough. There’s always the roof.

It doesn’t take me long to climb the stairs and step through the door onto the flat roof of the warehouse. I take grateful gulps of cool night air. It’s peaceful up here. The moon is bright enough that I can see pretty well. Crickets and the breeze playing in the leaves are the only sounds I can hear. Even with the half-full moon illuminating the sky I can see so many stars. It reminds me of when I was a kid, before I moved out of my hometown.

When I’d turned eighteen and moved to the city, I’d lost the stars. I never thought I’d get them back, going home was too painful, too impossible. It had felt like a fair price at the time. To leave all that behind me all I had to do was to give up the stars. I’m further from my shitty little hometown than I ever even knew I could get. I guess that’s one way to get the stars back.

“Now I see how you got kidnapped,” Mason’s voice startles me out of my revive.

I’m just glad I don’t scream from the surprise, but it still sets my heart racing. At least I want to blame it on that.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” he asks as he steps closer to me.

“I should be a lot of things, dead among them.” I say with a smile trying to lighten the tension I feel in the air. I’m used to tension with Mason, to the push and pull of innuendo and teasing, the on-going game of arousal and attraction, but this feels different. Or maybe it’s just me that’s different, still a little cracked after my experience at the hands of the trappers.

“Is that supposed to be a joke?” Mason asks with a scoff his eyes narrowing.

“Obviously. I would think you’d be used to my bad humor by now.” I reply with a wave of my hand. “I can go back inside. I don’t mean to intrude on your space. I just needed some fresh air. I know this is usually your spot.”

“I was looking for you actually. You weren’t in your room.”

“Hoping for a booty call already?” I ask with an arched brow, “or did you think I’d managed to get myself into trouble again already?”

“You have a talent for it. We really need to work on your sense of self-preservation, Sweetheart” his voice is serious not at all the teasing flirtation tone I had expected.

I stare at him unsure of how to respond. If I didn’t know better, I would almost think he was concerned about me, worried about me. I shake my head to banish the thought. It’s not that he doesn’t care about the unit, he does, but part of me wants it to be more than that. That part of me needs to learn to shut up.

“I thought that I—that we were too late.” His voice is quiet barely more than a murmur. His eyes raise to meet mine, and I think I could spend an eternity lost in their stormy depths.

“I didn’t think you were real,” I confess.

I had felt the darkness closing in around me and I was so sure that this was the end. I was sure that I was dying alone and broken, and then Mason was there. When I was child, I had often hoped for someone to come rescue me. For my absentee father to decide he suddenly cared about his daughter and take me away to a place where I never had to go to bed hungry, to a place where I never had to make up stories for the bruises on my arms. It never happened. He never gave a shit. I’d had to pull myself out of that shit heap, and I learned to give up on that hope. No one would ever save me. I could only depend on myself, and yet, when I was so sure I was done for Mason had been there. I guess it made sense that in a world with vampires and werewolves maybe even that silly childhood wish could come true.

He reaches out and cupped my check and for one disorienting moment I’m back in the trapper’s hideout. My life is slipping away, and his face is the last thing I will ever see.

I’m brought back to the present moment as his lips connect with mine. His hand moves to the back of my head as he angles my head to deepen the kiss. His other hand moves to my lower back pulling me flush against him.

“That real enough for you?” He asks me as the kiss breaks.

“I’m not sure. I think you’ll have to show me again.”

He does. We make our way back to my room, and I lose myself in the familiar feel of his hands moving over my body. It’s gentle, but no less intense for it. In some ways it’s more intense. Our bodies press together as much as possible. It’s hard to know where he ends and I begin. One hand’s fingers interlock with mine, and he kisses me again and again. I’m incapable of sensing anything besides him.

The ache that grows in my chest has little to do with my injury and more to do with a word that threatens to escape with each moan and gasp he pulls from me.

When I reach my peak, it comes in a slow wave from my curling toes to the top of my head. Every nerve fires and cascades. I don’t feel shattered like I usually do, but rather taken apart, untangled. If Mason notices the tears that leak out from my eyes he doesn’t comment.

He follows me over the edge and then we lay intertwined. His head is pressed to my chest, and if he were human, I would say he was trying to hear my heartbeat, but he doesn’t need to be here to do that.

I fall into a blissful dreamless sleep safe in his arms.

I’m woken up by the sound of my bedroom door closing. I sigh and roll over. My eyes glance to the clock on the bedside table, and I have to rub my eyes to be sure I read it right. 7am.

tagging: @lilyoffandoms, @tracing-freckled-constellations, and @lord-king-saint

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc mason #just another liability #mason/Serena Willis #fanfiction #lovelieswrites #ns*fwish #child abuse #torture

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