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un2-verse · 3 years

Text

BILLY — Kim Taehyung (3)

Synopsis: News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right?

Pairing: yandere!Taehyung x f!reader

genre: angst, horror, weirdly some fluff lol

Warnings: dark themes, yandere, stalking, manipulation, conditioning, mentions of abuse, suicidal ideations/attempts, self harm, murder, depictions of torture etc (basically its gorey and fucked up), angel trap, etc stabbing and guns. do not read if triggered!!!!

wordcount: 2.2k

taglist: @yes-sol-not-soul @yoongiofmine

a/n: pt 3 is here!! honestly i wasnt expecting this amount of support as i’ve never published my writing before so thank u sm ♡ i was inspired to write this one night and i had no idea where it’d go or anything but i’m happy with the way its turning out :D fun fact abt me, i’ve been obsessed w the franchise since i was little and i actually have 2 saw tattoos, one of billy and one above saying “cherish your life” since that’s pretty much the motto of saw :) and i have quite the collection of saw/billy items so why not turn my fav horror film into a fucked up love story! let me know if u would like to be added to the taglist and pls enjoy reading^^ feel free to send me asks abt the series or anything u want~ i love hearing from u guys!! :D ps— taehyung and the reader dont have much interaction in this part,, theyll definitely be more of them together in part 4 :) unedited so pls excuse any mistakes!! tysm <33 and remember these are fictional characters and do not represent bts personally in any way!!

series masterlist

part one part two

The headlines constantly named the Jigsaw Killer, Billy. The somewhat eerie little doll that had a face as white as a Calla Lily with spirals on it’s cheeks as red as the blood that was shed during the tests. Billy was always dressed in a little black suit with a red bowtie and he was (most of the time) situated on a squeaky battered tricycle. Attached was always a tape that read “play me” and when the subjects did, a chilling voice— one that could make even the world's worst predators shiver with terror— would echo around the room.

Everyone knew that a doll clearly wasn’t responsible, yet they gave it the name Billy in hopes to somewhat humanise the face that instilled panic— they did not want to live in fear.

It was the only face behind the killings.

But this time, there was a different subject stuck in the test and Billy had made sure there was no way for them to survive.

“How are you scared of heights? You’re practically a giant yourself!”

“Just because I’m tall doesn’t mean I can’t be scared of heights Y/Nie.”

You had no idea how long had passed since Taehyung had turned up at the garage, you were too busy chatting away squeezed into the kitchen while your Dad, Yoongi and Hobi worked on the cars in the shop. If anyone could hear you both, they would think you’d known eachother since childhood— the playful jokes and light touches exaggerated that.

You’d only known him for a few hours really, if you added the time spent with him on the first day and now. It hadn’t seemed like all those weeks ago that you first met, he had a familiar presence, as though you had known him for years compared to the hours.

“I just wouldn’t imagine you to be scared of anything Taehyung… you seem so confident and fearless.”

You saw the way Taehyung looked at you. His eyes flashed with understanding.

“I did have my fears back then, much like yours.”

“What do you mean?” you had a rough idea on what he meant but you needed him to voice it.

A deep inhale and the words flowed from his lips before he could stop it, “The fear of living. I had been through some stuff you know, growing up. My mum was working a lot and my dad was an alcoholic, he was so fucking possessive and wouldn’t let her go anywhere without kicking off. It was a fucking shitshow and so toxic. This one time though, I’d pretended that I’d gone to school and waited outside the front door. It didn’t take long before I heard shit getting smashed and my dad shouting.” Taehyung was telling the truth only, he left out the part where he was also as possessive, if not more, than his father. Well, let's say… obsessive. “I just ran in the house and saw my dad towering over my mum and I don’t remember what happened but, I do remember my mum crying and my dad disappeared.”

Now Taehyung was lying through his teeth. He remembered clearly, almost like it was yesterday. He smashed the nearest bottle, pulled his mother away from the monster that scared her and stabbed him. Not just once, not twice but thirty-seven times. Hence the thirty seven tattoo on the palm of his right hand (the one he’d actually killed his father with). There was only Taehyung who knew what it meant, he counted every single time the broken glass pierced his father’s body, he counted with a smile on his face and a chuckle in his throat.

You were at a loss for words. Your mouth gaped in shock, eyes wide and your brain scrambled for the right thing to say. You reached over and grabbed his hand, interlacing your fingers. His thumb running back and forth along your hand. “I’m sorry, I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like.” There was no way you could relate, your mother and father were happy and in love. They had the ideal relationship, one you wished for yourself. You could empathise though.

“You don’t need to be sorry baby, it’s in the past and I’ve moved on from it. I was like you though, poisoned by the roots that keep you on the ground even though you wanted nothing more than to break free and be no longer.” A silence fell over you both before Taehyung uttered, “I wasn’t successful with my attempt so now I’m here to help you.”

Warmth spread throughout your body, a smile graced your features as you no longer felt alone.

You had a completely different idea to what those words actually meant.

It was nearing the evening when Taehyung’s car had been fixed. Yoongi popped his head in the kitchen to tell him but stopped himself so as to not interrupt the scene before him. You were laughing along to whatever Taehyung was babbling about with your hand resting on his bicep, with that look in your eyes that he hadn’t seen for years. Yoongi felt himself smile as he saw you hanging onto Taehyung's every word.

For the first time in forever, you looked alive.

Yoongi cleared his throat which drew yours and Taehyung’s attention, “Sorry to interrupt guys. We’ve finished with your car so whenever you’re ready we’ll be outside.” The infamous gummy smile overtook his features, you felt yourself beam in return.

“Thanks man! I’ll be like, five minutes.”

Yoongi nodded his head in reply and swiftly left the room.

You’d taken Tae’s hand into yours, playing with the array of rings that occupied his fingers. Solemn thoughts overtook, am I not gonna see him again? Was this, whatever this is, over before it had even begun? Your eyes stayed on his hand as you turned it over and traced your finger over the inked ‘thirty seven’ on his palm. “What does this mean?”

Taehyung didn’t think twice before he practically beamed out, “It’s my lucky number.”

The difference was, it wasn’t really his lucky number… although he did see it that way. It was the number that had stayed with him. It was something he was proud of, whenever he looked at the hand that killed his father, his chest filled with pride and a joyous feeling overtook his senses. It was his first murder. Something he relished in and thus, created the onslaught of Jigsaw killings. He targeted a certain type— those whose sins would lock them up forever if they were ever found out. Racists, murderers, rapists, drug dealers, con-men. Authoritative figures who abused their power. He even went as far as subjecting suicidal people.

You see, things aren’t sequential. Good doesn’t lead to good, nor bad to bad. People who steal, don’t get caught, they live the good life. Others lie, cheat and get elected.

Some people would call it karma but Taehyung, he called it justice.

He’d started this with one thing on his mind— those that don’t appreciate life do not deserve it.

Whenever a serial killer was on the loose, the press did what they always did. They gave them a nickname. While the public had named the doll Billy. The actual killer was named ‘Jigsaw’.

This stemmed from the jigsaw piece that was cut from the victims skin, no one knew why he was doing it or what it even stood for.

It did have a meaning although unknown to the public.

The jigsaw piece that was cut from the subjects was only ever meant to be a symbol that that subject was missing something. A vital piece of the human puzzle. The survival instinct.

After all, until a person is faced with death, it’s impossible to tell whether they have what it takes to survive.

Across town an underground abandoned warehouse, was where the next subject had found themselves.

They were suspended in the air, their feet merely dangling above the ground. The putrid smell of death lingered in every crevice, the sound of rats scurrying along the concrete floor filled their ears just as they began to stir awake.

A pain in their ribs was the overwhelming factor to them finally coming around. When they groggily opened their eyes, they were paralised with fear due to the scene in front of them.

A doll sat a few feet ahead, perched upon a tricycle. Adorned with a black suit and a red bowtie. A slow red light flashed in his eyes.

Billy.

Before the subject could even register how, when or why they found themselves trapped in a test, footsteps echoed behind them. The subject called out, “Help! Please, somebody help! I shouldn’t be here!”

A tsk reached their ears, as a disembodied voice replied, “Trust me, no one can hear you. Scream all you like. You’d just be wasting your breath, you may as well cherish it before it's gone.”

With hairs stood on end, the subject stilled. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you.” The man's footsteps grew louder. “I’m here to serve justice, that’s all.”

The man rounded the subject, settling in their view with only his cloaked back visible while he tended to the little doll. He touched Billy delicately—like he was a little child that he loved dearly. He combed his gloved hand through the doll's black hair and eventually pulled his fingers from the tresses to pat his head gently.

“You fucking psycho! Let me go!”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that which only infuriated the subject more causing them to shake in anger, a movement they soon ceased when they realised something was penetrating their ribs.

“I’d be very careful if I was you, we wouldn’t want you hurting yourself now… would we?” The cloaked figure spun around. An angry glint to his eye.

“What the fuck, you’re fucking crazy. Let me out, this isn’t right!” The subject tried their hardest to swing their legs, to somehow kick the man who’d imprisoned them.

“I think you’ll find it is right. You’re unworthy of the body you possess.” He inched closer, “see, when someone purposely intends to harm others, they lose their right to life.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

The man arched a brow as he replied, “Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He felt like it was a game of cat and mouse except, he was a tiger and his subject, was the tiniest prey to mankind. “But, let me remind you! Since you can’t get your thick fucking head to work. You’re a liar, a cheater and an abuser. That ring any bells?”

The subject's face dropped.

“Ah, I see by your expression you know exactly what I’m talking about! Glad to see we’re on the same page.” He shrugged his cloak off placing it to the side of the doll. “I want to play a game.”

“What game? This isn’t a fucking game! You’re sick in the head you fucking cunt!”

The atmosphere shifted, the man remained calm while the subject went ballistic.

“What is this? What fucking game?”

“You feel the machine that’s currently occupying your ribs? Well, in about ten minutes that’s going to rip you apart. I’m proud to say that trap is my baby. I’ve been working on it especially for you! How nice is that?” he reached out to tug at the subject’s legs, tormenting them like a cat would a mouse. “Anyway, as my beautiful angel trap will rip you apart, my darling little friend Billy over here,” the subject followed the direction the man's hand pointed, “is going to match your face with the ugliness of your soul.”

“Fuck, fuck this! How do I stop it? Tell me how I fucking stop it!”

A boxy grin overtook the man's face, laughter poured from his mouth as he leaned over and slapped the subject’s leg. “This is a special game.”

“Who are you? What do you mean by ‘special game’?”

He raised himself so he stood tall and grabbed a knife from his pocket, “I’m the man you call Jigsaw.” He traced the tip of the knife along the subject’s ankle, “and when I say a special game… I mean you can’t get out.” While the subject was screaming in realisation, Taehyung walked back for his cloak, hung it over his shoulder and stalked off back the way he came. He sent one last smile to the subject as he rounded them and within the blink of an eye, he gripped the knife and slashed the subject’s achilles.

A chilling scream pierced the eerie atmosphere, the subject couldn’t string words together. Abundances of anxiety, terror and pure panic took reign of their body. Taehyung grabbed the injured muscles and forced his gloved fingers in as he gripped and twisted them, “That’s for Y/N.”

Taehyung had pressed the timer before he cut the subject’s tendons. He grabbed the tape from his pocket and threw it on the ground and with a chuckle he shouted, “Game over!”

Before he reached the end of the hallway, he heard the gunshots pierce his subjects face followed by the sound of the angel trap, even this far away Taehyung heard every crack of the ribs and the noise of the body being tore apart.

Without looking back, Taehyung rounded the corner and slammed the door shut.

He’d chosen the Angel trap for the irony, the subject that was currently hanging from the ceiling was no angel. They were a fucked up, evil, waste of space. Taehyung had done the world a favour, he’d done you a favour.

That got him thinking, how much blood would you shed in order to stay alive?

[a/n: who do we think was in the trap???👀]

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mischiefthedreamerx · 3 years

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The First Steps

Synopsis: Young Sylvie has kept this secret for far too long and now it's time to tell her Mother whether she is ready or not. Little Sylvie is taking her first small steps in becoming who she feels inside.

A/N: So Sylvie is probably the equivalent to a 10 year old here. It's basically Sylvie coming out as trans and wanting to change her name etc. This is just a simple sweet one shot.

Word Count: 2.2k

- - - - -

Young Sylvie sat herself down in front of her mirror, golden coloured hairbrush in hand brushing her black silky locks. It had now grown a few inches past her shoulders, others had started asking when she was going to get it cut or simply made an innocent statement on its growing length. She liked it this long, though still preferred it to be longer. Sylvie looked down at the piece of jewellery she borrowed from her mother's dressing room. Well she took them without permission but she planned on returning them before her mother noticed...

Firstly she picked up some form of silver circular headpiece with silver metallic leafs around the band. She had also snuck out a silk white shawl. She knew very well that it wasn't right to steal the items but if she returned them without being caught then no harm was done. She traced her fingers over the headpiece before gently placed it above her forehead. Then added the white shawl over her shoulders. Seeing herself in the mirror, she knew she looked ridiculous with it on, especially over her green tunic. She adjusted a few strands of hair around the headpiece. This was one of the ways she could pretend to feel better, to distract herself but this void that was still burning inside her chest.

With a sigh, she slumped her shoulders in defeat.

Though an even worse distraction bombarded her when her brother practically threw himself into her room, the door whacking itself open.

"Thor!" Sylvie shouted in panic, quickly tearing off the headpiece and shawl, shoving them under her bed. Thor stood there, wide eyed.

"Have you heard of a such a thing called privacy?" She ragged.

Thor ignored the question and composed himself, holding a wooden sword in hand. "Well I was going to ask if you'd come out with me and Fandral in the woods but it seems you're rather busy playing... dress up." Thor teased.

"I am not! And besides Father forbid us to go into the woods." She said, desperate to change the subject.

"We won't go far, I promise." Thor smiled.

"Right. Of course." Sylvie returned her gaze to the mirror, hoping this would make Thor realise she did not wish to play with him but he didn't quite understand this hidden message.

"So..are you coming?"

Sylvie grumbled. "No. Go and play with your stupid little sword."

Thor crossed his arms. "Fine I will!" He stuck out his touch and left.

"Careful I don't cut your tongue off in your sleep..." Sylvie muttered to herself in a hushed voice. "Knock next time too!" She yelled. With a careless flicker of a hand, the door slammed shut. A part of Sylvie now regretted not taking up Thor's offer because now she was alone again in her miserable thoughts.

She placed her forehead against the mirror and sighed, clutching the silk shawl in her hands. Her eyes were closed as if praying, waiting for her reflection to magically change when she opened them but still she only saw some sad little 'boy' wishing she was anyone else but herself.

Sylvie then heard the sound of a door handle slowly being turned.

She was prepared this time. "I said knock next time—“

Her mother appeared in the doorway.

"Mother!" Sylvie scrambled, standing herself up. The shawl hiding behind her back.

Her mother cautiously entered the room. "Is everything alright, dear? I heard shouting."

A small sense of relief filled her knowing Thor had not told their mother on the 'borrowed' possessions or better yet her wearing them but her anxiety still held firm.

"Everything is quite alright, Mother." She stuttered, sweat appearing above her brows. Her mother took a few more steps closer.

"Loki, did you really think I would not have noticed." She raised an eyebrow, no anger in her features, only a sense of calmness but her presence still heavily filled the room. Sylvie looked down at the floor and unhid the shawl from behind her back. Sylvie may have been good at being sly but her Mother was proven to be a challenge to trick.

She wasn't sure if she should apologise or explain why she had them in the first place. Or maybe now was the right moment to explain everything.

"Mother, I'm sorry, I.." Her words fell apart.

"I think it's time you and I have a little talk. Shall we?" Her mother walked over to sit on her bed. The door quietly closing by itself. Sylvie sat herself down next to her mother, avoiding her mother's gaze.

"Why did you take those things? I'm not angry. I just wish to understand the reasoning behind this. Perhaps I can help you."

Sylvie nodded. She wasn't ready, but if not now, then when? She knew how she felt, it was explaining it out loud that was the struggle. Was something wrong with her? Was she sick? Or even a way to fix her to stop feeling like this.

Sylvie had succumb to silence, blinking away the tears. Her mother patiently waiting.

"I..I don't feel right." She met her mother's soft blue eyes, she nodded once to encourage Sylvie to continue. She only wished to recoil into herself and disappear.

"I look in the mirror and it hurts, Mother. It hurts." Sylvie turned to look up at her mother, the tears slipping themselves free.

Sylvie fell into the comfort of her mother's warm embrace, a hand wrapped around her. She clung to the fabric of her mother's dress, hoping it would stop the tears.

"Hush, my dear. I'm listening." Frigga whispered, threading her fingers through Sylvie's locks.

"Why does it hurt so much? There is nothing wrong with who you are, Loki." She said, Sylvie only shook her head, pulling herself away.

"No, you don't understand! I don't want—" She rubbed away her tears, taking a deep breath to take control of her steady breathing from the crying. She wasn't close to explaining it. She had once wrote down all the things she felt when she eventually told her parents, scripted it in her head, in front of the mirror and now all of that was useless.

Her mother stayed calm, though Sylvie could tell she was puzzled at the sudden raised voice. "If you could magically become anyone you wish, who would it be?" She asked. The question caught Sylvie of track.

"Anyone?" She asked. Her mother nodded. Sylvie knew a few people she wanted to look like. It was now or never. There might not be another chance like this for awhile. What’s the worse thing that could happen? She knew her family loved her regardless, even despite her being adopted, they never once treated her any differently.

Sylvie jumped off her head and walked towards her book shelf, picking out a book without hesitation. She pressed the book close to her chest, then showing it to her mother.

On the cover was a women with long blonde hair tied in a braid wearing gold and white armour, blue cape flowing behind her. Her arm was held out high holding a glowing light blue sword as she sat on a pegasus mid flight. In her eyes was the fearless look of warrior ready for battle. She was beautiful and power and strong.

It was a fictional story about the main character's journey to becoming a highly respected Valkyrie despite the hardships she went through, being born into a poor family and was looked down upon for how weak she was. Sylvie stood in front of her mother, holding her hands together in anticipation for her response.

Her mother's eyes scanned over the cover. "You wish to be a Valkyrie?" Frigga frowned slightly.

Becoming a Valkyrie was definitely a far away dream, a dream so impossible to reach that it would never become a reality.

"It's more than that." Sylvie replied.

"Loki..." Her mother placed the book down on the bed. "Tell me more. What are you so afraid of, my dear?"

"I'm afraid you'll no longer love me. That you'll think I'm pretending or confused..or..or.."

Her mother stood up and bent down in front of Sylvie to reach her level. "Sweetheart, we could never stop loving you. I trust that you know your own mind. You're a smart and sensible young boy."

Sylvie visible winced as if someone had injured her, chocking out a heavy sob and began to weep. Sylvie promised herself she would not cry, promised she'd be strong. The promises lay broken. She was weak.

"I don't want to be a boy, Mother. I don't want to look like this. I want to be pretty. I feel horrible. I...I feel disgusting." Sylvie held onto her mother for dear life. Frigga embraced her tightly.

"Oh, my dear." Frigga let Sylvie cry into her shoulder until the heavy sobs became only sniffles. Frigga wasn't exactly sure what to make of this sudden turn of events. She knew Sylvie was never like her brother or most young boys for that matter, always more quiet, never fitting in with Thor and his friends. She'd much rather play with her toys or interact with the girls from her classes.

Frigga was always considered wise, knowing what to say when comforting and support others or even explaining the complexity of different methods regarding magic. Though now, she had no right words on how to comfort her distressed child. She still very much believed her child knew their own mind and that every word Sylvie said was not some child wanting to play pretend but a child in so much pain from hiding her true self for far too long. Perhaps Frigga felt a sense of guilt from not realising her child's distress. What Sylvie was feeling wasn't something Frigga had not heard before but it was still new to her. It was not a choice. She would continue to love her child unconditional despite not understanding much.

"For how long have you been feeling this way?"

Sylvie sniffled and wiped her tears with a shrug. "A long time. It has only become much worse. I have tried, really tried to stop being this way. To be more like Thor and the others."

Frigga placed a strand of hair behind Sylvie's ear. "You do not have to be anything like your brother. You two are very special in your own ways. Thor.. he relies on brute strength, charging head first into battle without analysing the battle field in itself. Of course he has some remarkable strengths. But you, my child, you are very powerful, intelligent, pure at heart, cunning even. You have qualities that many dismiss, cast aside as if they were only weak but my dear, they are your hidden strengths to use to your advantage." Frigga's voice whispered softly. She continued;

"And.. if from within you feel.. you're trapped.." Frigga paused, searching for the right words.

"In the wrong body." Sylvie said, completing her mother's sentence.

Frigga nodded. "Yes. Then we shall do whatever we can to support you. You will encounter many who will not quite fathom all of this, or many will say that you are sick. Do not ever let other's perception of who you are change you. Only you truly understand who you are from within and that’s all that matter."

Sylvie stood there, giving herself some time to take in what her mother had said. She had not expected this sort of outcome. A small smile made it's way to Sylvie's lip.

"Thank you, Mother. Can we tell Father...together?"

"We will and he shall love his daughter all the same." Frigga placed a kiss upon her forehead. "This..is still very new to me but is there another name you one day wish to be called by?"

Sylvie's eyes sparkled with instant excitement. She picked up her story book and pointed to the Valkyrie on the front cover.

“Her!” She passed the book to her mother. Frigga turned to look at the back of the book to read the blurb.

"Sylvie?" She said, reading the main character’s name.

Sylvie nodded, the void becoming only but a distant ache. Right now she no longer thought about what her father or Thor would think of this or for the rest of Asgard for that matter. Sylvie wanted to live in this blissful moment and hoped for many more.

"Sounds very elegant and mystical." Her mother said. "It's perfect."

Sylvie struggled to hide her ever growing smile as she hugged her mother.

"Though you must understand it will take us all some time to adjust to this change. We may make mistakes along the way, but I can assure you that as a family, together, we will support you."

Sylvie understood that it would be a big adjustment for everyone, even for herself and mistakes will follow and many will not support her journey, she was well aware of the troubles she may face but right now, Sylvie had made her first steps into becoming the person she was on the inside

"I know, Mother." Sylvie said, she reached down picking up the shawl and silver headpiece. "Here. I'm sorry for taking them without your permission, Mother.”

Frigga took the headpiece and placed it on Sylvie's head.

"Keep them." She smiled. "They look much better on you, my little princess."

- - - - -

A/N: Omg I didn't think I'd make this so heartbreaking. Also please no comments about how I didn't explain being trans that well considering its coming from a distressed child

#loki odinson #loki fanfic #marvel one shot #avengers #sylvie laufeydottir #sylvie #mcu #loki #loki fandom #trans sylvie

28 notes · View notes

jacepens · 3 years

Note

1: HamilTurn(you can differentiate if needed) or MCU, 2: Washette, 3: Anna Strong

And generally a fandom list would be nice to know what to pick from ;) (Love you♡)

You said HamilTurn or MCU and I say both, I'm going to try my best haha. But anyway, thank you!:) Apologies in advance if this gets rambly, but that's the point of this right? Anyway, for ease of scrolling sake, I'll probably put a cut if this gets long but don't worry, it's just me talking a whole bunch lol. Ok, thank you again!! <3 (love you too!)

1. Hamilton/Turn (fandom)

Favorite character: I have to say Lafayette for both. Oh and Mary

Least favorite character: I have no real reason behind this so sorry but Burr, and Simcoe for many reasons

5 favorite ships: washette, lams, hamliza, benwash, whamilton

Character I find most attractive: ...all. But I have to say overall Brian Wiles as Lafayette. That face just…🥺

Character I would marry: Mary Woodhull or Eliza

Character I would be best friends with: you know I'm not sure, but in an ideal world Lafayette (both versions) or Ben but I feel like we wouldn't be best friends. But also everyone, is that an option? Even some of the "villains" would have good stories to tell

A random thought: I feel like most people in the fandom now are so new (they joined in with the movie release!) and unaware of the uh atrocities of back in the day. And y'all are lucky, but those of us who know. Know. (yes, I was unbearable but that's ok because I was having fun, and despite what I just said: have fun in your fandoms even if you're "unbearable", just keep it welcome to all and enjoy the enthusiasm you have for it:))

An unpopular opinion: Oh boy. Maybe stop making quick judgments about people based on what they write/who they ship? There is a line, but I've genuinely never seen it crossed by anyone at least openly sooo just let people have fun? And don't say anything about something? Unless it's actually harmful but even then, keep it to a dm or something and have an open discussion. Just let people vibe, please? Especially younger fans. Just, I’ve seen a weird amount of negativity towards them. They’re kids having fun, we all used to be like that so please, be kind and patient. They’ll learn if they make a mistake. Ok? Ok cool:) (maybe not unpopular but still I wanted to say it)

My canon OTP: Am I allowed to say lams?

My non-canon OTP: washette, wow, who would've guessed? xD

Most badass character: Mary my beloved

Most epic villain: Robert Rogers hands down

Pairing I am not a fan of: no one murder me, but in general I'm just not a fan of jamilton. also whatever was the deal with Anna and Abe

Characters I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): um. Where to begin? Honestly I think every woman in Turn at one point or another, except perhaps Peggy in my opinion. Oh but especially Anna. Also Simcoe. With Hamilton, probably again everyone at some point, but the way Angelica was written just feels so overwhelmingly fictional it bugs me. (But at least Hamilton had some genuine relationships between women, not great but still)

Favorite friendship(s): Ben and Caleb, Washington and Lafayette (what?? yes, you fools. lol). It may sound a tad ~cringey~ but I generally like Hamilton's vibe with the boys, maybe it's just the gender envy, but it's kinda cute and fun.

Character I most identify with: well jeez, I won't lie but Washington. In both versions, except god knows I could never be that chill. Also a dash of Laurens.

Character I wish I could be: wow what a loaded question ummm. I don't want to be like him, but I want to be like in his position so Hamilton lol. Playing an active role but I know personally I am not cut out for a battlefield, so a desk suits me well.

2. MCU (fandom-that I am so out of date from, please take all of this with a grain of salt)

Favorite character: so when I was younger it was Tony Stark but now it’s definitely Wanda and T’challa

Least favorite character: ummm. I genuinely couldn’t tell you, I’m very out of date

5 favorite ships (canon or non-canon): wandavision, …ngl I can’t think of anymore, I honestly never shipped many and wandavision was like the only couple I remember really liking. Oh, I don’t know them but Loki/Mobius and/or Sylvie

Character I find most attractive: embarrassing confession time, Loki was my first bad celebrity crush. Wanda now and Shuri is cute. Also Sylvie

Character I would marry: if I could, Wanda

Character I would be best friends with: Vision and Peter Parker

A random thought: y’all it’s been so long since I’ve touched MCU I should catch up/refresh shouldn’t I?

An unpopular opinion: I don’t know if this is an unpopular opinion but I’m going to say it anyway. Personally, I really don’t like the movie Civil War, I think it’s what sorta made me disinterested in mcu. It’s been years since I’ve watched it so maybe I would have a completely different opinion if I saw it today, but at the time it just felt so...wrong? And childish? I literally don’t even remember why they were fighting or how that movie even ended (I feel like it just wasn’t satisfying??) but I think also, as a kid or teen watching that, it reminded me sooo much of the dumb drama that, you know, kids get into. I mean, getting your friends on someone’s side like that?? Like, I know they were mad but- but there are other ways of dealing with emotions??? And involving everyone's friends too? So yeah, it just felt off to me at the time, and looking back now, from what I remember, it just frustrated me. Especially as a kid who deals with dumb drama like that all the time, kids would want to see a better example especially from adult superheroes or at least not be reminded of the bs they have to go through sometimes. But, rant over, that’s all just my opinion:)

My canon OTP: wandavision

My non-canon OTP: ummm. I guess just Loki/Mobius and/or Sylvie lol

Most badass character: I have to say Natasha but actually there are many

Most epic villain: when I was younger I liked that Ultron was voiced by Robert California from the Office lol

Pairing I am not a fan of: I don’t know if it’s popular but I never liked Tony and Pepper. What happened with her?

Characters I feel the writers screwed up: I guess I’ll say Thor because I just felt such a weird difference in his personality that did not make sense to me

Favorite friendship: Wanda and Pietro!! Honestly I think a lot, there were a lot of good friendships but I can’t think of which ones are my favorite

Character I most identify with: ummmmmm.

Character I wish I could be: My gut says Thor

3. Washette (ship-bless you<3 get ready for rambles oh no)

When I started shipping them: So I first had the thought in 7th grade while my history teacher was talking about them and my little brain went: haha that’s pretty gay. (teacher keeps talking about them) wait a fucking minute, that is pretty gay! But it wasn’t until I got sucked into Hamilton that I really started actively shipping them by reading fics and what not, but something about them became an instant favorite. And later (little personal story time) I pretty much completely stopped reading fic and being active in fandom for years and actually, when I got my first panic attack that - no joke - lasted for 5 hours, for some reason my brain (as it’s decaying lol) said I want to go and reread all my favorite washette fics and also do what I was I always too scared to do. Write!! So that night I binged the fics and found myself falling in love again, feeling all the old passion I had for them again, and the next night (still very shaken) I wrote an outline of a good ol washette confession + kiss that was extremely thoughtful and good, and honestly, I have not actually used that outline yet! Maybe I’m saving it. But yeah, this is a long answer, but I have a weird amount of attachment to them and this ship, I wish I knew why too. <3

My thoughts: so many. Too many. First of all, I love that I have so many versions of them in my mind, right? When I started writing, I had never watched Turn but then I did and then it was like: hell yeah, another washette set. At this point, my brain has created it’s own unique version of them but it’s like, they’re so versatile! That’s one neat thing about this fandom as a whole, we get more than one character and personality and that’s just fun right?! More specifically on washette I mean, they’re just so sweet. Historically, their relationship is unique and cute, and you’d have to be a fool to think that to Washington Lafayette was just another friend. Even strictly platonically, it was something special and it’s so obvious I just love them. Ok. Enough thoughts for now <3

What makes me happy about them: the loooove, the comfort they found in each other, the fact that like every person at the time documenting them knew and understood they were special to each other like, they were just that in love.

What makes me sad about them: oh so much that I try to ignore lol. There is the one year when Lafayette went to France and all his letters to Wash are like: “I have not received one letter from you, but it’s ok, I love you and I know you love me too :)” WHO WAS NOT DELIVERING THESE LETTERS, I HAVE NAMES, NOW I WANT ANSWERS. Anyway, also just most things that happened when Laf went back to France. And then when he visited America in 1824 and visited Washington’s grave. Yeah. ow. (also, you know what, I have done too much research on this event. lmk if you would like a post)

Things done in fanfic that annoy me: Generally, I’m not annoyed by much in fanfic at least with them and what I’ve seen. I’m still nostalgic for the old school nonbinary Laf fics, so it ain’t those. Literally maybe it’s because I’m starved for content but I can’t really think of anything, I love it all.

Things I look for in fanfic: back to the whole starved for content thing, I am a library of washette fics but I think if I was to pick a certain thing that I would love it’s just um fluff? And honesty, if that makes sense. Love confessions are very good as well. Canon era, please :) pining but not too much that it hurts me lol

My wishlist: literally all my wips. If I could whisk them into existence I could die happy and knowing I have put a variety of washette content in the world. Something else though, more fics :’) I love writing but sometimes I want to curl up with a cozy, new washette fic like a cup of hot chocolate and be surprised and learn something new and just..yeah:)

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: what. Ok but actually, Martha and Adrienne because they are both honestly perfect for them and I love them too (I’m going to be biased, especially Adrienne)

My happily ever after for them: Can Lafayette just move the family to America? But also, it’s sad, but like I know Laf would be sad in America while France suffers. So...maybe a world where things in France go better and Lafayette gets to visit Washington more often and bring the family!! (Washington visit France too??)

4. Anna Strong (character)

How I feel about this character: I like her! She’s fun and…strong (oops lol) and she’s made some mistakes sure, but I feel like she did her best to learn from them and move on

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character: Honestly, I know they didn’t have a lot of interaction in the show but Anna/Mary has potential. And Anna/Edmund

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character: her and Ben and Caleb

My unpopular opinion about this character: I really can’t think of anything unpopular

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: in general, her having more screen time with less men you know? I mean like one-on-one kind of scenes. Also I would’ve liked to see at least her and Selah talk. Like, really talk. They never really did that, right? I just have so many questions about them

Favorite friendship for this character: Anna and Ben

My crossover ship: I have no idea

And well, I know it’s been a few days but for a fandom list, I’m just a weeb lol but here

Octopath Traveler (my beloved)

Fire Emblem: Three Houses

Star Wars

Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812

Persona 4

Zelda (to a point)

Pokémon

What We Do in the Shadows

Sailor Moon

Literally anything historical

Ok!! I tried to add a lot because I’m not sure what you might know or not haha. But thank you again!! I had fun <3

#ask game

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meetmeatthecoda · 3 years

Note

Okay so, I wanted to offer my two cents on that ask about Liz’s reaction in Luther Braxton: Conclusion. This is NOT meant as an attack on anyone—I find it 100% valid that the OG nonny (and anyone who related to them, including you dear Coda 💖💖💖) feels the way they do; they can’t control how they reacted to Liz any more than I can control how I reacted to that ask. Plus like, this is all fiction so no harm done? I purely wish to share my perspective, not ~present a counterargument~ or anything like that. :) Apologies in advance for how long this got. 😅😅😅

I get why you would react negatively to Liz’s screaming at Red, but I feel like?? That incident of all the times she’s treated him unjustly was (one of?) the most reasonable. Now, how she continues to act afterwards (regarding the Fulcrum but also, like, for the rest of the show welp) is 100% a continued bad decision in so many ways on her part and reflects terribly on her character, but her reaction in the immediate aftermath?? IDK, I feel the need to kind of defend her, probably because I absoluuuutely saw myself in her when she did that. I’ve (I shamefully admit) yelled, shoved, and even kicked at loved ones when they just wanted to comfort me but their attempts made me feel cornered and small. I’ve made logically unbased and ethically/emotionally unfair accusations against people who’ve done nothing but try to help me when I just needed something to get them away (literally or otherwise). When I just needed to attack something—take out my frustrations and confusion and fear and anger on someone. (And if Liz was like that, she might have latched onto Red as her target because he was the closest thing—physically, emotionally, and even in relation to the cause of that confusion and anger itself.) I have inflicted real harm on people while in an unsettling or unfamiliar mental state—harm that I couldn’t take back even when I could look back with a clear(er) mind and realize I never should have said/done any of that.

(Also, side note: when I first watched that ep and I saw Liz screaming at Red not to touch her?? I’d actually thought they were depicting her as being touch-averse due to the trauma and/or overstimulation, and I was?!! Like, call me badly coping but I appreciate seeing characters not being comfortable or straight-up being aggressive about being touched, even for just a moment, because that is me 24/7. Then of course a few more seconds and it turns out it’s not actually that?? Liz is just repulsed by Red’s Bad Guyness again apparently?? Whenever I rewatch the ep I still choose to see it as overstimulation though because, well… my heart is clearly very talented at choosing comfort characters for me. 🥲🥲🥲)

So speaking from personal experience, coming out of a trauma (or revisiting an unresolved one) is so stressful that it’s only natural to react explosively—even to the extent of unfairness and unreasonableness—in an attempt to protect or heal yourself, whether that attempt be justified or not. And honestly, I could even make the argument that for Liz, her attempt was to some extent justified. Of course Red would never hurt her, but sometimes a person needs breathing space. Like, literally needs. Maybe for the sake of her mental stability/health, Liz should have had her first moments coming up from her trance to herself. Does that make sense?? IDK if I made any sense there; I just know that while I never could have gotten to the place I’m at now without the EVENTUAL professional and personal support I’ve been blessed with, I also can’t fathom how much more mental anguish I would have experienced if I’d had people who knew me (or like, the “closest person” in Liz’s case) see me in the immediate aftermath of my trauma. Just… The state I was in? Yikes, am I glad only I saw myself pull myself together; I’d have had so much more to worry about with others seeing me like that. That might just be me and totally inapplicable to Liz of course, so I digress!

I’m not saying Liz isn’t responsible for her words/actions simply because they happened while she was in utter emotional upheaval and under mental and physical duress—Red definitely did NOT deserve that treatment from her. He did NOTHING WRONG. But with that kind of complex angst comes the inevitably mixed but nonetheless potent reactions of fans, I completely understand that. Everyone has different experiences and thus different viewpoints, and that’s fine and totally healthy in my book. Still, something about that discussion struck a chord with me—you can (and should) hold someone accountable for the harm they do while mentally unstable, but it’s possible and also healthy to do that without, yourself, harboring anger or resentment against them, you know? I had to teach myself (and those around me) that, so I guess I just wanted to put it out there. Again, I don’t mean to start anything and I’m so, so sorry if I inadvertently have. I hope it’s okay that I came here to explain my thoughts (and so wordily too, ack I’m sorry), and if not, I won’t anymore. Thank you for hearing me out this time though, I really appreciate it. :)

Dear anon!! 🤗🥰❤️ Firstly, I want to thank you for your kindness & respect for other's opinions!! This ask was worded in the sweetest, most considerate way & I appreciate it very much!! There's absolutely no need to apologize for having your own opinion & perspective, especially when you share & explain it so nicely, so never fear!! 😊❤️ Moving on to the meat of your ask - which is in regards to this previous one - you make such a good point!! When you look at it that way, the Luther Braxton Post-Memory-Unearthing Screaming Explosion is perhaps Liz's most justifiable negative reaction in the series LOL I guess looking back from where we are now - knowing all about & being completely fed up with all of Liz's awful writing & characterization in the subsequent seasons - it's easy to dismiss her reaction in Luther Braxton as something unreasonable & irritating & unfair to Red (which, to some extent - as you graciously allow - it is). But - as you generously point out - while that's a valid way of looking at it, it's also definitely worth examining from another point of view!! And I think your point of view (in everything ofc, but particularly in this) is so valuable!! I can relate at least on some level... I have definitely snapped at people, even those trying to help me, verbally & otherwise, when I lost my temper & just needed some space!! In fact, I think that's a pretty universal stress reaction & it's not necessarily something to be super ashamed of (but definitely something to be aware of & work on - a good reminder for us all!!) & it's definitely not a stretch to imagine Liz was going through something similar after being effectively water-boarded & having her memories so unceremoniously rifled through!! And, after all, Liz has one thing we generally don't... a perfect, convenient, willing catalyst for all the negative things in her life: Red (however undeserving of that title he may be.)

(And re: sidenote of touch-averse!Liz - Omg, I definitely thought about that being their angle at first too!! While I don't usually default to reacting that way myself [kind of the opposite for me usually LOL] I know that plenty of people do & it's 1000% valid as a coping mechanism & honestly??? A touch-averse Liz would be one of the more realistic reactions she's ever had 😂😭 especially considering the circumstances!! And hey, no shame about gravitating towards that interpretation bc it's 1) less painful for you & 2) you like comfort characters bc you 👏 do 👏 you 👏 but also?? I can't say anything bc the reason that I like that interpretation??? I love the angst of an overwhelmed & touch-averse!Liz unintentionally shattering Red's heart by completely rejecting his well-meaning physical comfort anddddd I'm not sure what that says about me tbh 😂😂😂)

Long story short, anon, you made perfect sense here, not to worry!! You were so respectful & cognizant of others' feelings, thank you so much for that, it doesn't go unnoticed!! You bring such a good point to the discussion with your perspective & outlook & I'm so thankful you chose to contribute!! I loved reading your thoughts & don't worry at all about the length, I appreciate your thoroughness!! (Plus, we all know I'm hardly one to talk, I never use one word when twenty will do 😂) Please don't hesitate to come back to my inbox any time to discuss whatever you like, I always love a little bit of friendly TBL conversation, especially since the show as we know it is so abruptly & unexpectedly over 😭 Yes, still grappling with that, in case you were wondering 🥲 Anyway, thank you again for your lovely ask, anon, I appreciate you greatly, & much, much love to you, of course, my friend!! ❤️

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sunlightdances · 4 years

Text

Through Lines (40′s!Bucky x Reader)

Pairing: 40s!Bucky x Nurse!Reader Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for war-typical violence and descriptions of PTSD. Summary: WW2 canon-divergent AU - Bucky lives. One of the things Bucky thinks about when he’s trapped in a foxhole and trying to stay alive is the pretty nurse from the Red Cross. Author’s Note: I re-watched Band of Brothers recently, so this popped into my head. Please excuse any inaccuracies/suspend your belief briefly - I did my best with a bit of research, but obviously some of this is OOC/not canon. I don’t own Bucky or Marvel (or the character cameo who is clearly from HBO War). Please don’t re-post anywhere without my permission!

You meet James Barnes for the first time while you’re packing a Red Cross truck in England, hair neatly curled and pinned, lips painted a fiery shade of red.

It’s easy, then, for you to flash him a smile as he removes his garrison cap, tucking it neatly into his waistband as he approaches you.

“Ma’am,” he greets, and even though you think he’s about the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, you still bristle a bit.

“It’s Lieutenant.” You say, returning to your work. You know he likely didn’t mean anything by it, but ever since you shipped out, you’ve found yourself defending your rank and training more than once.

He clears his throat. “Lieutenant,” he corrects himself, and even salutes you. It surprises you. You return his gesture. “Just wanted to see if you needed a hand.”

You falter, and smile gently at him. “I’m sorry for snapping. It’s been a long day.”

“Moving out tomorrow?”

You nod. “To France, to one of the field hospitals.” You can see the concern in his eyes, and it makes you roll yours. “We’re trained just as you are, Sergeant. The men need help.”

He puts his hands in his pockets. “They’ll be happy to see you, no doubt.” He rocks on his feet. You realize how young he is, how young you both are.

The next time the two of you see each other, it’s nowhere near as formal, or casual.

The sunshine of that day in England is a distant memory compared to this. It’s raining and the sound of shelling not far off has you gritting your teeth.

The flap of the tent flies open with a rush of noise — a familiar voice and steel blue eyes that you both hoped you’d see again, and prayed you never would. He’s with a medic, a stretcher between them.

“Here—“ you say before he even opens his mouth. “Put him here.”

The medic is rattling off information - shrapnel to the stomach and leg, given morphine.

“Sergeant Barnes,” you bark, snapping him out of his daze. “If you’re not going to help, then you need to get out of the way.”

He moves so you can get to work, but stays close, and you notice with a jolt when he takes the hand of the man you’re working on, squeezing gently.

He doesn’t make it.

You’re so frustrated you can barely speak. Every time you lose someone, it’s a burning ache that settles deep in your heart. No matter how bad off they are when they come to the hospital, you feel the guilt of not being able to do your job.

“You did everything you could.” He says next to you, outside the tent, cigarette dangling from his lips.

You don’t reply. There’s nothing to say. You won’t cry - you can’t allow yourself to cry. If you break down now, you might never get your composure back.

The shelling begins again, and a jeep pulls up nearby, someone shouting for Sergeant Barnes. You try not to notice the way his hand starts to shake as he pulls the cigarette from his mouth, throwing it to the ground and stamping it out before he goes.

“Take care of yourself,” he murmurs, and then with a weak salute, he’s gone.

Bucky Barnes is a romantic at heart. He pictured seeing you again back at some pub in England on leave, in his dress uniform, you in a red dress. When he was at his darkest point, he pictured it, and that’s why it’s so unfair that he’s seeing you again now, like this.

It’s been six months. France, and then Belgium, and then Italy, and whatever hell came after that. He’s grateful he doesn’t remember the entire thing. Azzano was like nothing he ever thought could happen to him - something from a science fiction novel.

His unit is completely gone. Every one of the men he trained with, fought with, shared a foxhole with… they’re all gone.

Steve is here now, something that should make him relieved, but all it does is add to his never-ending bad mood. His best friend, his brother, literally charging into harm’s way every chance he gets. Except now it’s not just back alley fist fights. There are bullets and fire and mortars, and Bucky doesn’t know how much more of this he can take.

It’s bad enough that they’re hot on Hydra’s trail - a shiver ripples up his spine every time he sees the insignia - but the original Nazis are still everywhere. The German army is tough, and everywhere he goes it’s pure destruction.

They’ve been called in to support another Division, and Bucky is relieved for the tasks of a new squad to take his mind off everything. Being a platoon sergeant comes natural to him, and he looks after the replacements like he did his last group. It gives him something to keep busy.

Until they get to the Ardennes.

It’s hell on earth. The trees are sawed in half by shelling every night, the shrapnel alone enough to kill someone who isn’t hit directly.

It’s colder than anything he’s ever felt, and they lose more and more of the line between them and the enemy every day.

The field hospital is barely a field hospital. It’s in a partially bombed out church, and Bucky spares a thought that he hopes to hell you aren’t here, because he can’t stomach it. Of course his instincts prove to be right.

He drives one of the medics to try to scrounge up some supplies, and when he steps inside, your voice is the first one he hears. It’s chaos in there, and he’s surprised by the number of soldiers in beds, on chairs, or just laying on the floor.

His eyes fall on you and it’s like he can finally breathe again, though his relief is replaced by worry when you meet his eyes. He barely recognizes the look on your face. He sees the recognition when you first spot him, the barely there softening of your gaze, but he doesn’t recognize the rest.

You’ve lost weight. Everyone has, but it’s stark in the way your cheekbones jut out slightly, and the way your uniform hangs on you.

“Sergeant Barnes,” you say, your voice lacking it’s usual enthusiasm. He understands. Nothing seems important anymore, nothing seems worth getting excited for. All there is, is survival.

“Lieutenant,” he says softly, giving a brief salute.

“Nurse!” A call is coming from the other side of the church, and you glance away from Bucky briefly. He wants to grab your hand, your arm, anything to keep you from heading back into the fray.

“Are you hurt?” You ask him, looking him over. He finds he’s not sure how to answer. Physically, no. But in his head? The nightmares are atrocious. The headaches-- and on top of all that, he has no idea what that Hydra scientist actually did to him.

“No,” he replies carefully. “Came to beg for any bandages and plasma you have for our medic.”

You frown. “There isn’t much. I have to see this patient, but wait here.”

He watches you go, watches the slight limp to your gait, and he finds himself clenching his fist when he hears a doctor order you around.

A few minutes later you’re back with a small box. “This is all we can spare.”

“It’ll do us good. Thank you.” He doesn’t want to leave. “What a pair we make, hey?”

You meet his eyes, untrusting. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You need to get some rest,” he counters.

“There’s too much to do.”

He knows he has to leave. He needs to get back to his unit. He wishes this were another time, another place… that he could have met you back in Brooklyn.

“Be safe.” His voice is rough, and he hates himself for it, because he barely knows you. He doesn’t know why he feels so connected to you. You’re beautiful, of course you are, but for all he knows, you have someone back home, wherever that is.

“You too, James.”

The use of his first name floors him, not just because it’s so personal, but because he can’t remember the last time someone called him by his name.

“Barnes!” A shout from the door from an agitated soldier and another shout for you by the doctor, and you’re both pulled in separate directions.

The jeep is halfway back to the line when he hears the first shell. He forces his eyes shut and takes a deep breath to try to steady himself.

It’s not until he’s shoulder to shoulder with Steve again that he allows himself to think of you briefly before he’s forced to fight again.

Always fighting.

They move out two days later.

He’s never been so happy to get out of the woods. The high spirits of the rest of the men are contagious, and he finds himself nearly grinning ear to ear as they make their way slowly down the road, the hellish cold of the night before long forgotten in the new day’s sun.

The jeeps roll to a stop and there’s a long while before they get moving again. At some point, Steve had climbed out and headed up the line to see what the hold up was.

When he gets back, he hauls himself inside, and Bucky eyes the spot where he grips the door, the spot slightly dented by his strength. He’ll never get used to it, but in the moment he’s less worried about that, and more worried about the thing he does recognize - the crease in between Steve’s brows.

“What’s wrong.”

Steve waits. When he speaks, his voice is low. “The field hospital was bombed during the shelling.”

Bucky’s entire body goes cold. Steve seems to understand, and the two of them make their way to the front of the unit on foot. When they get to the hospital, there’s a few members of the 101st Airborne milling around, the medic from Easy picking through the rubble.

Bucky doesn’t know what to say. His knees feel weak. He wants to demand answers, wants to ask what happened, but it’s a stupid question.

He feels sick. They bombed a hospital.

“Did anyone--” Bucky starts, pausing to clear his throat, “Casualties?”

The medic meets his eyes. “A few nurses and a couple patients made it out. They’re being sent back to England.”

“Buck, we have to go.” Steve says somberly, apologetically.

Bucky doesn’t say anything. He can’t breathe.

It’ll be months before he finds out what happened to you.

You don’t sleep much, anymore.

The War is over, but in so many ways, you feel like you’re still in it. Your dreams are filled with explosions and screams, and during the day, you’re forced to pretend that everything is normal, when in reality, nothing will ever be the same.

There’s a large scar on your right arm. The limp you picked up in Bastogne lingers, and is worse when the weather is cold.

You’re trying to be “normal” but can’t understand what your purpose is. After everything you’ve seen, you can’t stand to just be content to go to parties and luncheons and listen to your mother talk about marriage. It feels so trivial.

The only person you’ve talked about the War with is your father. You don’t allow yourself to get emotional, but you make it clear to him how close you came to dying. How close to the front lines you were for months.

Your friends talk about the Red Cross nurses like the whole thing was one big party - dressing up and flirting with soldiers, bringing them coffee and enjoying a European vacation. Maybe it was that way for some, but for you and the women you served closely with, it was a nightmare.

Still, you don’t regret it. You wanted to do your part, and you did more than that.

On your way to your office job, a car backfires on the street, and you jump, stumbling slightly as instinct takes over. You feel embarrassed when you remember where you are, but then there’s a hand at your elbow and gentle eyes assessing you.

“Are you okay, miss?” He looks familiar, but you can’t place him.

“Fine, fine. Sorry, I--”

“It’s okay. It startled me too.” He says, and when you meet his gaze evenly, you recognize the look there. After a moment, you recognize the face, too.

Steve Rogers. Captain America. Your heart starts to speed up, not because you’re starstruck, but because of the possibility that he’s here too. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t thought of James Barnes since you’ve been home, wondering about him.

You’ve seen the newsreels enough to know he and the Commandos made it home, thanks to Steve saving James’ life on one of their final missions.

“Steve, we haven’t got all day, we have to--” His voice interrupts your thoughts, and when you finally see him, he’s gone pale, eyes as sharp as you remember, though there’s more shadows under his eyes than you’d like to see.

He says your name on a low exhale, but it’s a question, like he can’t believe you’re here.

“Sergeant,” you reply, a smile growing on your face, and before you can object, Steve is making some excuse about ducking into the shop you’re in front of, and then James is right in front of you.

“It’s Bucky,” he corrects you gently. “My friends call me Bucky.”

“Is that what we are?”

He’s so close you can see the smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose. “I thought you were dead.”

You’re used to lying to everyone about what happened to you; trying to make it more palatable for those who thought you just handed out coffee and raised soldiers’ spirits. It’s refreshing to be able to tell him the truth.

“I almost was. We were almost evacuated when the bomb hit. There were still patients and nurses in the church--” You stop yourself, feeling short of breath.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

You look down at your feet, feeling awkward. You don’t know what else to say. It’s suddenly dawning on you that you don’t really know him at all. Except when you look back up at him - you can see the kindness and understanding in his eyes. The connection is there too; the one that kept you thinking of each other and seeing each other again again against all odds.

“I’m glad to see you.” You tell him honestly.

The smile that slowly grows on his face is so charming. “I’m very glad to see you too, Lieutenant.”

Despite yourself, you roll your eyes, a smile of your own on your lips. “I think we can drop the formalities.”

His eyes are intense as he takes a step closer, “Let me take you to dinner.” He takes a deep breath, “This is probably too much, but you were one of the only things to get me through the last two years. I saw you once, and I was done for, sweetheart...” He trails off, shrugging.

“You think you’re pretty cute, don’t you, Sergeant?”

“He does, so please take pity on him and go to dinner with him,” Steve’s voice interrupts, “He hasn’t stopped talking about you since I met up with him in Italy.”

You look back at the dark-haired man fidgeting next to you, rolling his eyes at his friend, and for the first time since you came home, you feel like there might be something to look forward to.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction

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cinaja · 4 years

Text

About Tamlin

Note in advance: This post is about the writing, aka how sjm wrote Tamlin's character. I am not going to analyse his character, as in motivations etc.

There are lots of discussions surrounding Tamlin's character. Personally, I think the underlying issue for all of them is simple: bad writing. The way sjm wrote Tamlin's development was shitty. Let's take a look:

Tamlin in acotar was: a little controlling (as in he would sometimes indeed tell Feyre what to do, but within reason), sometimes a little aggressive (as in he growled and his claws slid out, but NEVER more than that - besides, that seems to be usual behaviour for Fae) and maybe a bit bossy (although it could be argued that this was only expected of a High Lord). I'm not counting the whole Calanmai mess, because from the way sjm wrote it, he literally had no control over his actions at the time (I know, this set-up is horrible, because what he did would otherwise count as sexual assault. If anyone feels the need to yell at someone about how horrible this is, I kindly direct you towards sjm.)

However, he also always allowed Feyre to go where she pleased/do what she wanted and supported her in decisions like wearing pants and going hunting (in general, he didn't seem to be misogynistic), he listened to Lucien/valued his friendship and rather attentive to Feyre's needs/wishes. It was also always made clear that he 1) wanted to be better than his father for example regarding humans and 2) was NOT elitist in any way. He was said to be more soldier than nobleman and he actually would have prefered to become a musician. I agree, looking back, there were some toxic implications, but nothing anywhere near what happened later (and I'll readily admit that I didn't reread acotar in a bit, so if I missed anything here, feel free to point it out.)

Tamlin in acomaf was: violent to the point of physical abuse, not at all in control of his temper, mentally abusive, controlling to the point of locking Feyre up in his house, clearly blind to Feyre's needs. He was also elitist (for example the Tithe), (ab)used his power as a High Lord (all he ever did was giving orders), didn't listen to Lucien at all and even threatened him. He was also suddenly misogynistic, only wanted Feyre as a pretty house wife and killed some of his guards iver a simple mistake.

This is a complete switching around of his character and no one can convince me it isn't bad writing. Some characteristics (him being elitist, misogynistic and not caring at all about his guards) were outright 180° turns. With others, like his toxic traits, I'm willing to admit that there was a basis for that already established.

Still, the key here is character development. This means "the character gradually changes" not "include a time-jump and the character becomes a new person". Before anyone points this out to me, I know that the reasoning behind these changes is trauma. I know that changes like this might happen (although I'm somewhat confused about how trauma would turn him into a misogynistic, classist ass, but I disgress). No matter how theoretically possible a change like this is, it's still bad writing.

Which leads me to another point. Frankly, I find the whole set-up for Tamlin's character rather disturbing. What he does is textbook abuse. I don't think I need to point out that abuse should never be excused. Yet, it is written as a result of trauma, which (put together with the fact that most people are far more forgiving with fictional characters than with real people) serves to shift the sympathy of some readers to him. They see what he did as a direct result of his trauma -which, in a way, is what it was written as - and therefore want him to get redeemed. After all, him being an ass now was never properly set up, so they just want him to go back to the person he was in acotar.

This is only enhanced by the fact that the entire story seems to go towards Tamlin indeed getting a redemption. His actions during acowar (the las third) clearly pointed in that direction. In acofas, it was always emphasized what a horrible state he is in, making people automatically feel sorry for him. While people like Rhys remain unforgiving, that behaviour only makes symptathy shift more towards Tamlin (after all, Rhys is the asshole who kicks a man who's already down). At this point, it seems highly likely that Tamlin will get a redemption arc in the following books.

However, I feel like many people (sjm included, as it seems) fail to realize how toxic that would be. I'm not saying Tamlin is beyond redemption (there have been cases where even cold-blooded murderers came to regret their actions and turned their lices around). However, the story of his redemption is not one that should be written. Tamlin is a domestic abuser. And some people who read these books may have been - or still be - abused in real life. The story of an abuser being humanized, of his side being told and him being redeemed could be increadibly harmful, because it might end up making people more sympathetic towards abusers.

I honestly don't know what sjm was thinking, writing Tamlin like this. It could have EASILY worked the same way if she had taken a lighter road with Tamlin. Cut out the physical abuse and the misogynistic and elitist bullshit. Make him a tad less controlling. Lack of understanding and the fact that him and Feyre really only barely knew each other would have been more than enough to cause their relationship to fail. But apparently, sjm needed Tamlin to become such a bad person that no one in their right mind would ever be able to ship him with Feyre. (And before anyone comes up with this idea: No, I don't ship Feylin and I never did. I'm not pissed about my ship not being canon, I'm pissed about bad writing.) Or if she really wanted to write this relationship in a way that raises awareness about abusive/toxic relationships, she should have written a proper development here and not have gone towards a redemption with Tamlin. It's simple as this.

Tags: @sjm-things @herpowerisdeath @clolikescloquetas

#this is so badly written!#if Tamlin gets a redemption #i'll be sooo pissed #anti tamlin

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dasibom · 3 years

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haven't read it but heard mostly very positive things about a little life, would be interested in why u think it's bad? (if u want ofc)

ofc i love talking abt how much i hate this book. i answered a similar ask on my old blog so i'm just gonna copy paste (with a little editing):

content and trigger warnings for rape, csa, suicide, self harm and abuse. both for the book and this post.

i have so, so many problems with this book. lets start with... the gay stuff. here’s an bit from a goodreads review (link) by Michael Flick, which says it better than i could. the whole review is worth a read, too.

“Some believe that this is “The Great Gay Novel.” That couldn’t be more wrong. There are only two recognizable gay men in this work, JB and Caleb. A creative queen and a violent, probably psychopathic, sadist. All the other “possibilities” are pedophiles (categorically not gay—that’s a sickness, an evil, that has nothing to do with being gay) or so hopelessly confused (and impotent) that you can’t know what they are (JB and Willem). The take on gay men here is antediluvian—a dangerous and discredited brand of heteronormative delusion in which all gay men, no matter the glittering surface of their lives, are fated only to die a lonely, miserable death. Caleb dies an excruciating death (so we’re told) from pancreatic cancer. JB, the witty, flamboyant, unstable, creative queen is merely a plot point. His happiness, told but not shown, at the bitter end doesn’t mean anything more than that. He’s a device to wring one more regret from you, one more sorrow. You can be assured that he, too, will die an ignoble death just beyond this novel’s last page. And you won’t be troubled or offended or titillated by the gay sex (or really any sex) here because there isn’t any: it’s the sex that dare not speak its name. All this is because the author knows absolutely nothing about gay men other than the most superficial stereotypes and doesn’t have the imagination to venture deeper than that. She can’t even imagine that a man (Willem) doesn’t need a woman to quench his sexual needs—he has a solution readily at hand.

other than this, i remember this book having lesbophopic language but i don’t own a copy and i'm not gonna search the internet for that.

basically the whole book is just pure torture porn. so many bad and traumatising things happen to the main character it feels unrealistic and i think the only reason it happens is because the characters life has to be miserable. that's the whole point of the book to me. there is no reason to so graphically include a ton of this stuff in a book other than shock value. some of this graphic stuff includes very extreme descriptions of self harm (mostly cutting but also other stuff), suicide (including possible methods), physical and sexual abuse (part of it when the main character is a child), violence and medical trauma. i’m afraid that there is a real danger to this book teaching people how to hurt themselves (or even stuff like where to hide the tools they do it with) and i can’t imagine what an actively suicidal person might get out of this book. it really, really concerns me. i’m afraid this book teaches people to not get help, to not go to therapy and get help if they’ve been traumatised and/or are struggling with living. i've been traumatised in childhood and i can imagine what someone younger than i am, someone more impressionable, could get out of this book. like seriously some very fucked up ideas, i felt like the whole thing about being traumatised, and the constant self harming and suicide attempts were presented in almost a romanticised way. obviously my opinion here isn't like objective, or something, cause i'm a person trying to recover and deal w childhood trauma, which still affects me every day, in several ways, and realistically, it will never stop affecting me, but the point is that although it was terrible and it fucking sucks, it doesn't mean i will have a life with no quality and will forever be unhappy and unable to cope. and this book so clearly disagrees with it. the fact that the main character is traumatised and that horrible things happened to him as a child feels like a death sentence when it doesn't have to be.

^ lmao a point i also wanted to bring up in this section is that not all of the shit that happens to the main character needed to happen because it's fiction and it's a made up story, like after some point when i was reading it and seriously messed up shit just kept happening and it kept on going i thought like... why? it servers absolutely no purpose after some point. reading a rape scene after rape scene stopped having an affect on me eventually and... that's not very good, is it? like, i'm trying to say, this is fiction, it doesn't need to go that far? at some point, a very early point at that, it was enough to get the message across that hey, what happens to this character is bad and fucked up, it didn't need to go on.

the whole book is also full of people enabling the main character to hurt himself over and over again and do nothing. every character is there to some way hurt the main character and people praise this book for being such a great tale about friendship. it is so pretentious and again, just pure torture porn. the book so clearly seem to think therapy and reaching out to people for help it bullshit!

i’m not saying you can’t write or discuss the themes that are present in this book but i just don’t think this is the way to do it. probably a therapist specialising in trauma should consult with the writer and someone should make sure the description of self harm and suicide will not harm anyone. i think there are guidelines made for that by people working in the field and i just feel like something like that would be of benefit here. like, i don't know, i don't have a solution, i'm just saying this is not it.

also, here is a link to the author literally saying she does not believe in trigger warnings. and i think those would have been extremely beneficial to have at the start of this book and i certainly would not have read it if it was for them. that would have saved me from so much triggering content that i did not want to read and i wish badly that i did not read. it seems clear to me the author does not have any idea how traumatic things can work, or at least that is what i think based on what she says. here is a link to an interview in which she says she does not believe in talk therapy. there, a point about a persons autonomy to end their own life is brought up which is a topic but if that’s what she wants to talk about then it should be done in clear terms and not with the only message “therapy doesn’t work if you’ve suffered enough trauma.” at least that’s how the whole thing seemed to me. like of course a persons own choice to end their life is a discussion i do think is worth having, but... that did not come across in the book.

lastly, here are some links i have saved about this book which i think point out excellent things if anyone wants to read more:

https://www.reddit.com/r/books/comments/a0e1yi/convince_me_a_little_life_is_a_good_book_please/

http://post45.org/2016/06/im-so-sorry-a-little-life-and-the-socialism-of-the-rich/

https://cannonballread.com/2016/07/narfna-a-little-life/

& you're welcome to ask me to clarify something or just discuss, this is a little bit of a mess cause i copy pasted that old answer and edited it a bit to hopefully word things better but like. idk if much of it makes sense

#i rly hope this is like readable and understable lol #asks

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izukukuzi · 4 years

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(1/?) I'm back with a rant..... I am definitely with that fellow anon about their dislike for bkg. Like I didn't like him for the fact that what he did just was shoved to the side and never talked about to begin with. Then I came into the fandom and I was like "!!??!!??" like people are not only doing what canon has done and forgotten what he did, but now they are literally shipping them together? And thinking he's "soft boi" and he has drastically changed and made up for what he did? Like where

(2/?) Because while yes in some aspects he has changed. He no longer physically attacks Izuku outside of training (besides bk v dk #2 and finals), but that doesn't mean that he's learned right from wrong. He just realizes in bk v dk #1 that Izuku won't put up with his violent outbursts anymore and also sees that he is not the only one to have a powerful quirk in 1-A. Izuku also changes by being able to gain actual friends and not the toxic and abusive one he had with bkg so he breaks away from

(3/?) Bkg and thus Bakugou realizes he can't control Izuku anymore and he also would have back up and seeing as most of the class wanted to be his friend at the beginning he knew if he pulled that shit no more UA whether the class rats him out or Aizawa won't put up with his shit. But Jesus the stans..... like they don't listen to canon because they have their own views on what Bakugou is like. I have written an analysis on him in volume one and got a "cold take" response.... like I put

(4/?) actual quotes and scenes from it and somehow that's a cold take even though it literally happened??? Also I'm fine with ships like that's you not me, but I don't understand where people can ship BKDK because before they date they "talk"? Like yes they need to talk about the shit that happened in middle school, but talking doesn't erase what Bakugou did. Like at all. It would still be a pretty toxic ship because it's obvious Bakugou scarred Izuku with the use of his quirk like those don't

(5/?) Just up and leave because they talk? And basically I got a response that "no no no you don't understand they have chemistry because they are linked and they have most scenes together" like do the shippers know that like 90% of those scenes Bakugou is either beating Izuku up or yelling insults at him? Like how could any abuser/victim relationship be healthy. Then there are the stans that also blame Izuku for overexaggerating because he's the main narrator. Like ah yes because we don't have

(6/?) Scenes from Best Jeanist, Aizawa, All Might, other pro heroes, and other UA students that express their worries over Bakugou's behavior. Then there's the stans that think antis don't want to see him grow, overexaggerate him, or think we hate him because of his past actions, instead of thinking on why would someone hate this character who 1. Never faced any consequences and learned that what he did was wrong. 2. Has yet to apologize to Izuku for all the shit he did to him. 3. Everytime he

(7/?) He grows he then goes back to his old ways and sometimes contradicts what he just did. 4. Some people have been abused and so he reminds them of what their own bully/abuser did and so they cannot like a character like that. Like I have yet to meet an anti who just up and says "I hate Bakugou for no reason" and also antis get yelled at by his stans for "not understanding his character" or are even given death threats and are told that we just spread hate. Sorry for the long rant, I can't

(8/8) I can't stand his stans because they can get quite obnoxious (even putting their love in the anti tag to rile up the antis) and for reasons above and just argh never have stans made me hate a character even more. Because Bakugou isn't like Karma from Ass Class no matter how hard hori tries or how much his stans depict him that way. Because I'm pretty sure if Karma was in MHA Bakugou would have been put in his place the instant Bakugou realized he could harm Izuku and get away with it. 🎤🎤

I definitely think this can all be indications of how important it is to consider the humanity of those you interact with, and how that takes priority over the... dignity??? the perception (I dunno what I’m trying to say) of a fictional character. more often than not, I think bakugou is a shitty person; I think it’s shitty to ship him with his abuse victim (of ten-ish years); I don’t really understand where most people are coming from with their Very Positive feelings towards bakugou, and I will rant and rave about that on my blog for as long as it bother me because that’s my space to do that.

HOWEVER, what’s more important to me than my dislike of bakugou, is the well-being of the people I interact with while talking about his character. I would never send bakustans hate, regardless of how much we disagree with each other; I may get sassy with rude anons, but I never aim to harm anyone because... like, it’s bakugou lmao. he’s not real. so, in that same sense, I wish people were a bit kinder on the other side of things too. you can like bakugou/bakudeku if that’s really what you’re into, but there’s no real reason to be hateful or send death threats to someone just because they disagree with you over a ship/anime character. those things aren’t that important and, like you brought up, plenty of people see the characteristics of those who have hurt them in real life in bakugou, so it’s not always a matter of just fighting over (dis)liking a character for the fuck of it (and I understand that the same can be said for those who do like him. there are understandable qualities that people may identify with, but I think that’s all the more reason to approach and treat those who disagree with you how you want to be treated).

but anyways, ignore my rambling. thank you for sharing your thoughts!

#anti bakugou #anti bakudeku #classicaltrashical #rambling and shit #long post

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loominggaia · 3 years

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“Okay New York Anon here. I’m really sorry about this chapter and regret writing it, the way i did. Thinking about it post production I’m realizing I made it come off as transphobic and tasteless. Angry guy was supposed to be a parody of the stereotypical sjw you’d see in a cringe comp violently going off on people for accidentally being mis gendered. Sorry if this train wreak of a chapter offends anyone.”

Anon, I’m so honored that you would spend the time to write fanfiction about my series. Not everyone is a perfect writer (I’m sure not), and personally I don’t believe that every piece of writing has to “set a good example” when it comes to politics and morality. The Looming Gaia series is for ages 18+, not preschoolers. I think adults have the mental capacity to differentiate between right and wrong and form their own opinions when they’re reading something (at least I hope they do), so I’m going to go ahead and post your story.

But I also care about my followers’ well-beings, so I’m going to compromise and: 1) Put this chapter under a cut so they don’t have to see it if they don’t want to. 2) Put a content warning ahead of it so they can decide if it’s worth the risk.

If anyone proceeds from here and gets offended, that’s 100% their own fault. I care a lot about writing an inclusive series that doesn’t alienate anyone based on race, gender, sexuality, and so on. At the same time, I’m hugely against censorship, so I always welcome fan content even if it’s off-color or I don’t personally agree with what it’s trying to say (barring anything illegal or blatantly hateful towards any group; i.e. glorification of pedophilia or abuse, calls to real-world violence, supporting real-world hate groups, etc. I will never accept that kind of content. If anyone comes in here praising nazi ideaologies or calling for action against LGBT folks, they can fuck right off.)

Readers, you’ve been thoroughly warned.

You can read the other parts here.

CONTENT WARNINGS: This fan content contains scenes of captivity, mental hospitals, depictions of violence, off-color depiction of a transgender individual, and (censored) racial slurs. While reading this, I personally didn’t get the impression that Anon meant any harm. It comes off as goofy, edgy, over-the-top satire to me, like something you’d see in an episode of South Park. Use your best judgement and proceed at your own risk.

(content under cut)

The crew had squatted in an abandoned building on the outskirts of the city that night. They already knew that only humans existed in this world and the reaction that lady had to seeing Elska only compounded the need for stealth. Their only plan right now being find Evan and get back to Gaia. That morning the crew split up, Alaine and Lukus where to continue searching for Evan, Issac and Jeimos where to go shopping, Elska would search the outskirts out of sight and Zeffer would search at night.

Evan was not mad at doctors for keeping him hear. He knew they where just doing their jobs and where concerned for him, since magic, elves and werewolves where fictional to them he understood he looked like a crazy person to them. That didn’t take away from how annoying it was to be trapped here in this stupid hospital. Knowing his crew was out their somewhere he knew he needed to leave and contact them somehow, he needed a escape plan.

He had two plans so far, plan A was to butter up the therapist into letting him go. Behave himself, take his meds, admit Gaia’s not real and say he’s feeling better. Hoping that upon seeing this drastic improvement the therapist will approve his release and he can finally go out and find his friends. Plan B was in case plan A failed. He would bust himself out of here and go on the run. He really didn’t want to hurt anybody, just slip out unnoticed, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be that easy.

Issac and Jeimos wandered around the city streets aimlessly in absolute awe of the sights and sounds all around them. Jeimos was getting more unnerved by not being capable of feeling any magic in their surroundings and was starting to wonder if it was just all the iron nearby or something more? Not being able to read any of the signs around them made trying to find a store to stock up on supplies difficult. Finding a food place with golden arch’s they go their as their first stop.

The pair enter this strange restaurant, the place smelling of grease and fry oil. Theirs quite the line so they just wait, taking a look around and absorbing the experience. They see a lot of interesting people and things from pictures of a clown holding a burger, groups of people on strange devices and messy families eating, an extremely obese man the two mistook for a troll horking down a massive pile of greasy food. Kids running in and out of a indoor jungle gym. This place had it all.

They waited their turn almost at the register, waiting behind a mother and her kids who kept changing her order every three seconds and trying to corral her kids. The cashier, a young man around issacs age but with a tired, dead look in his eyes that made him look as if he’s seen a war zone rang the lady up and ushers our pair to the register, asking in a flat, apathetic voice what they would like to order. Neither of them can read the electronic menu so using the numbers and pictures they order

The disgruntled cashier rang them up, totaling their order up to over $55! Him not being pleased by Jeimos’s constant questions and issac playfully asking for a kids toy. They try to pay, placing some gold coins on the counter. The cashier just looks at the coins then back to them, and, in an even more annoyed voice, told them they only take usd, not foreign currency. Telling them they can either pay in cash or card or just leave, the line was building up behind them and getting restless.

Jeimos trying to salvage this, nervously ask if theirs anything they can work out. Not wanting to have wasted their time. The cashier breaths deeply, saying he’ll get the manager, leaving the counter behind. The people in line are angrily starting at the two, Issac having a ball and Jeimos being highly uncomfortable with all the staring and swearing from them. The cashier returns with a fat, sleezy looking middle age man, presumably the manager. Him asking what’s going on here?

The cashier explains the situation in his most annoyed, apathetic tone with the manager glancing over the two. He repeats what the cashier told them, they only take usd and if they can’t pay then just leave, their clogging up the line. Jeimos try’s to explain this is all they have and is about to give up when Issac speaks up and tells them the coins are solid gold. That catch’s the managers attention, who in a greedy smile picks up the coins to check, seeing yes, their real gold!!!

His greedy smile grows wider and he tells them they can understand work something out! Snatching up the gold coins and apologizing for the inconvenience, talking about his no good employees and starts berating the cashier right in front of them for being “rude and unhelpful” to such fine paying customers! The cashier takes one look at his boss, takes off his hat and apron shoving them into his bosses hands and just says, completely monotone “I quit” and walks out without a second glance.

Meanwhile, Lukus and Alaine where walking down the streets through the massive crowds looking for any sign of Evan. Despite trying to keep a low profile they where gathering a lot of attention, walking through down town in medieval armor and brandishing weapons tends to do that. While walking outside a storefront Alaines eyes are caught by a beautiful blue dress, he being mesmerized by. “Nice cosplay” she hears suddenly from behind, Turing around to see a short, well dressed women behind her.

Alaine jut awkwardly thanks her for the compliment. The women also compliments Alaines scales, believing them to be a make up design for whatever cosplay she’s doing. The women introduces herself as Kimi and ask if she was looking at that dress in the window. Alaine answers yes and now both are both gawking at and gushing over the dresses beauty. Kimi complaining about the ludicrously high price tag but before their conversation can continue Lukus calls back to her, wondering where she is?

Alaine snaps back on into mission mode as Lukus returns. She apologizes to Kimi for leaving and tells her their looking for someone, asking if she’s seen a large blonde man with a metal leg. She says no but wishes them luck on trying to find their friend. The two head off once again search the city streets for Evan and once again have no luck, it didn’t help that a lot of people where stopping them, asking for photos of their “costumes” and asking what characters their dressed as?

After hours of searching and coming up empty handed both where rather hungry. Stopping at a cafe looking place to grab a quick bite. The place smelled of coffee and a sign outside had a picture of a twin tailed mermaid on a green background. As they where waiting in line observing all the weird people around them they saw a familiar face ahead of them, Kimi. She had a coffee in her hands and was thanking the barista but didn’t see them. Neither did she see the weird guy she bumped into.

The guy she bumped into looked ridiculous to Alaine and Lukus, having fluorescent pink cloths, big goofy glasses and a oversized beanie I’ve this colorful hair. The guy yelled at her to watch where she’s going, she apologized but then she said sir. The pair could already sense this guy would be trouble as the moment kimi said “sir” it looked as if the weird guys was about to explode. SIR!!! He screamed, grabbing everyone’s attention, his face beat red and eyes bulging in rage!

To say he exploded on Kimi would be an understatement, he started loudly screaming at her “ did you just misgender me”!!! The screaming got even louder as he started listing off a bunch of gibberish and loudly insulting her, calling her sexist, anti-lgbt, telling to kill herself and die in a hole. His screaming getting more incoherent and seemed to be literally frothing at the mouth. Kimi was just backing away, scared and trying to apologize but the guy just kept screaming over her plea’s.

(Feel like I need to put a trigger warning for this one so here it is. Trigger warning for Lukus and Alaine getting in a fight with ‘that kind’ of trans guy, the kind responsible for all the negative stereotypes about the trans community. And Issac being called a racial slur. You have been warned.)

Alaine and Lukus stepped in to stop this dude from hurting Kimi. He seriously looked like he was about ready to punch her. They stepped in and tried to diffuse the situation, putting themselves between kimi and the angry man. They try to explain to him that how could she have known he wasn’t cis, that’s it’s an honest mistake and to let it slide. That only seemed to pissed him off more as he threw a drink in Alaines face and shoved Lukus in anger, wrong move.

Just as Lukus was winding up a punch Alaine beat him to it, knocking the asshole clean to the floor in a single strike. He went down like a sack of potato’s and was laying out cold. The three just left, taking Kimi and leaving. Alaine was fuming but if she where calmer she would have noticed it was water he threw at her, and would have also noticed she didn’t flop to the floor in her aquatic form, she was too pissed off the notices.

Kimi thanks them for saving her from that crazy guy and try’s frantically to explains to them she’s pro-lgbt, always try’s to respect peoples pronouns and is actually a lesbian herself. They cut her off, she didn’t need to explain herself to them. On the flip side Jeimos and Issac are carrying back their huge bags of fast food back to the groups hideout waiting to hear any news. Issac see’s a downed old man and the street and rushed to help him.

Just as Issac was reaching out to help him the old man swats him away, screaming at him. “Keep your hands off me you filthy N@$$#r”! Heads turn and people stop dead in their tracks in pure shock at what they just heard. Issac and Jeimos had no idea what that weird word meant but it guessing by the crowds reaction, it was really bad. The old man gets himself up and goes off on a racist rant, accusing Issac of trying to steal from him, calling all his “kind” low-life scum and just screams at him.

First of all Anon, your depiction of working at a fast food place is a whole-ass mood and I felt it lol. I’m interested to see what role this character Kimi plays! Maybe she has ties to the hospital? Seeing the crew clash with real-world culture is very interesting. I’m enjoying their adventure so far. TO BE CONTINUED…?

#fanfic #looming gaia

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yandere-daydreams · 4 years

Text

A Yandere!Monika/Reader piece for a lovely anonymous commissioner, with a few unfortunate implications coming towards the end. It was nice to write something a little different from my usual style, and I almost forgot how well this game was written... my adoration of Doki Doki Literature Club is rejuvenated, to say the least.

Word Count: 4.0k

TW: Implied Stalking, Physical Threats, and (Non-Graphic) Violence.

It was a fixation. That was the best word to describe it.

A fixation.

In itself, the game hadn’t been anything special. Shocking, sure, absolutely horrifying at points, but you were seasoned veteran when it came to horror, a connoisseur of all things dark and demented. That was the downside when it came to warnings. All those labels and reviews were necessary, especially with how a game like Doki Doki Literature Club presented itself, but it kept you on the edge of your seat. If you’re waiting for something bad to happen, you’ll never be surprised when something bad does happen. Just disappointed that it didn’t turn out to be worse.

Either way, you played through the dating-simulator, blushing when Sayori confessed and jumping in your seat when Yuri’s obsession boiled over and having all the responses you were supposed to when unfortunate things happened to people who didn’t really exist. You were painfully precise about these things, never daring to veer off the trodden path, even in a game that couldn’t really be failed, and when it came time for your fun to end, you knew what you were supposed to do. You’d delete Monika’s file, restart the game, and watch things play out. That was it. Three easy steps. Three mindless steps.

Three steps you didn’t think you’d ever actually go through with.

You knew you wouldn’t as soon as you saw it. Monika, a character you hadn’t paid any mind to, sitting right in front of the screen, taking up your monitor in her over-done, oppressive glory, the mood only made more dramatic by just how late it’d gotten, how dark your room was by now. It was a picture, you knew that, something someone had drawn and edited into a game, and yet… it wasn’t, at the same time. There was a connection, as unprecedented as it was unearned. An attraction, albeit one you couldn’t name the source of. A fixation.

There was that word again. Fixation. An undeniable, unreasonable fixation.

Monika seemed to know as well as you. The fact that you’d been staring at the same frame for far too long probably helped her to reach that conclusion, pre-scripted or not.

"Hey, have you ever heard of the term 'yandere'?"

You had, in passing. You’d never paid too much attention to it, though, not enough to be able to pick the definition out.

“It's a personality type that means someone is so obsessed with you that they'll do absolutely anything to be with you. Usually to the point of craziness..."

The idea appealed to you, interested you. Lingering on it for a moment, you let yourself fall into the word. Yandere. You liked that. Yandere.

"A lot of people are actually into the yandere type, you know? I guess they really like the idea of someone being crazy obsessed with them. People are weird! I don't judge, though!"

Well… you wouldn’t want someone to be obsessed with you, you were sure. That seemed like too much attention. It’d take too much effort to keep them interested, and it’d probably be dangerous to entertain a stalker like that… Yeah, you were sure. You didn’t want anyone to be obsessed with you.

But, Monika didn’t exist. She wasn’t dangerous. She didn’t have anyone else to give attention to, and you wouldn’t have to worry about her judging your interests. Even if someone found out, you could just blame it one a glitchy file that won’t close. There wasn’t a risk.

“It's not like I could ever actually kill a person… Just the thought of it makes me shiver. But, come on… everyone's killed people in games before. Does that make you a psychopath? Of course not."

Right. It was just a game. Liking something fictional didn’t make you weird or perverted or… a Yandere for Yanderes, you supposed. It was a dirty little secret. A guilty pleasure. It was normal. Or, it wasn’t anymore abnormal that the disgusting investment a lot of people had in blood-splatter and gore, anyway.

“But if you do happen to be into the yandere type… I can try acting a little more creepy for you. Then again, there's already nowhere else for you to go, or anyone for me to get jealous over."

She didn’t have anyone else in that isolated, tiny world of hers. It would’ve been lonely, if she was real, and for whatever reason, your empathy found that fact too heart-breaking to ignore. And you didn’t really want her to ‘act more creepy’, she was fine as she was, so… that made it a little better, didn’t it? You might’ve just liked the companionship, how close she wanted to be to you. It was an artificial intimacy, and who wouldn’t like intimacy they didn’t have to return?

“Is this a Yandere girl's dream?"

If that's a Yandere’s dream, then your situation must be a Yandere-Lover’s dream. There was no harm, no foul, very low risk and a very high reward, even if it did come in the form of a one-sided, directionless conversation. You thought about finishing the game, speeding through the process and never bothering to think about Monika or Yanderes or Doki Doki Literature Club again.

You thought about it, rolling the idea over in your mind like an antique in need of inspection. You thought about it, scanning over Monika one more time, and turned your monitor off without closing the game. You’d decide tomorrow, before class, or when you got home. A few days of self-indulgence wouldn’t hurt anyone, would it?

Least of all Monika.

Least of all you.

You didn’t close the game.

Not before you left, not after class, and certainly not that night, when the urge hit you to play though her dialogue until your eyes forced you to stop. You didn’t bother reading, the next morning, something you sorely came to regret as you sat in your first class of the day, little to do save for staring at the clock and wondering what you should do after school, despite already knowing what the outcome would most likely be. Your teacher was out, today, for the first time all year. She’d bragged that she never missed a day, but you didn’t care enough to raise anything more than a few curious questions. Concern was too much, considering how often accidents happen.

“Do you have a pen?”

A light voice drew you out of your thoughts, and you glanced towards the desk in front of yours, immediately meeting eyes with the girl seated there. You’d never noticed her before, not to any exceptional extent, brown hair and murky eyes making for an unremarkable combination. You simply nodded, reaching down and beginning to search through your bag, talking to fill the silence. “She didn’t leave work for us, right?” You asked, sticking your hand into a random pocket and coming up empty. It was weird, but you tried another. Monika always had a pen on her, it was part of her character design. “I think the assignment on the board was old… it was there yesterday, too.”

She chuckled, as if you’d made a joke. A funny one, judging by how long the noise lasted. “I know that, but…” She trailed off, just long enough to lean onto your desk, attempting to peer over it. “Clubs are demanding, aren’t they? I’m not even a council member, but Debate still has me doing more work than the President.” She let out a heavy sigh, as if the optional dedication had been forced onto her. “It’s all supposed to be extemporaneous -- unplanned, y’know? That’s what used to make it exciting. Everyone was speaking from the heart and everyone minded their own business. It was a competition, but it wasn’t personal.”

You hummed, lightly, closing that compartment and opening another. “And it is, now?”

“Oh, definitely.” There was a subtle emphasis on every other word, it seemed, a passion for nothing in particular breaching whatever she felt like talking about. You could see why she must’ve made a good speaker. “That’s what happens when you start thinking about things too much. They started announcing the topics ahead of time, then people started writing out their arguments, and now you can’t take a side without attacking the other.” There was a pause, a tap to her cheek. A moment to think. “You have to phrase it a certain way, or else it is personal. If you keep things objective, the other side will follow along. It’s amazing how suggestive people can be, when you make an effort to guide them.”

“I wish you would guide me in the direction of a fucking pen,” You mumbled, eliciting another giggle, the sound muffled by a palm over her mouth. “I’m sorry, it usually doesn’t take this long. It’s like they all just, I don’t know, phased out of existence or something.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The disregard came casually, without hesitation. You couldn’t help but wonder if she was as dedicated to her cause as she seemed. “Check the main pocket. You probably kept dropping them in the first place you saw without noticing.” You blinked, glancing up to frown at her, but she just shrugged. “A lot of people do it. If you haven’t caught on, I don’t have a whole much to do ‘cept watch them.”

You didn’t pry further. This was the first time you’d heard her voice, too, so it was fair to assume she wasn’t much of a socialite. “About your club,” You said, bringing the conversation back to a topic that didn’t have to do with how often she stared at your classmates. “Why don’t you quit? You don’t seem to like it very much.”

“Who knows?” She frowned, closing her eyes well she spoke. “I’d have to find another to join, and there’s no guarantee I won’t just keep running into the same problem over and over again. I think about making my own, sometimes, just because I’d be able to make rules against that kind of thing.”

Again, you brightened, and not only because your fingers found something tubular and plastic. “You want to start a club?”

“Yeah, but it’d have to be about something fun.” She rolled her wrist, not noticing when you held out a thoroughly abused pen. “Like, about music or art or…”

“Literature?” You suggested, eagerly.

She scowled, shaking her head, muttering something about her distaste. She said it’d been months since she read a book, years since she’d written something original. Even the idea was alien, to her.

And yet, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be disheartened.

She’d taken the pen, after all.

“Whatcha starin’ at?”

Her tone was playful, posture following in suit, the girl rocking back and forth on her heels as she waited for you to snap out of your stupor. You hadn’t meant to zone out, to stare at the dense collection of apartments and condominiums in front of you, but there was just something so familiar about the collection, something you couldn’t put your finger on. But, a hand waving in front of your eyes brought your attention back to the real world, regardless of whether or not you wanted it too.

You were still getting used to having another person around, honestly. Your new friend took a shining to you quickly, settling to let you trail after her like a lost puppy whenever you didn’t have something better to do. She’d offered to show you a shortcut to your train-stop, today, but you were having your doubts about how well she knew the route. It felt like you’d been walking down this same road for ages, now. Like it was a loading screen you didn’t have the connection to overcome.

You took a step forward, standing a little straighter. Attempting to check if the buildings would still be there when you changed perspectives. “Has this neighborhood always been here?” You asked, tilting your head. Still there. “I don’t remember seeing it, until now.”

“As long as I’ve been alive,” She replied, not seeming to take you seriously. “Besides, how would you know? You lock yourself up whenever we’re not in class.”

You huffed, sending a quick glare in her direction, the diversion taking more effort than it should’ve. “I get out occasionally, I’ve just been--”

“Busy with a new game?” She rolled her eyes, setting a swift pace and signaling for you to follow. “It’s not a ‘new game’ if you’ve been working on it for the past two weeks. I’m going to come over and finish it for you myself, one day.”

You were tempted to interrupt her, to contradict her diagnosis, but… you had been playing through Monika’s dialogue for a while. There were so many options, so many routes and monologues, but you’d exhausted most of them. She didn’t hold the same… uniqueness she once did, for lack of a better way to put it. You certainly weren’t tired of playing yet, but you were starting to realize you would be, one day, possibly sooner than you’d anticipated. You’d need something new to focus on, something new to satisfy that itch in your chest, the one that seemed to form every time you were away from your computer for too long. You wondered if there was something similar - Yandere was a genre, technically. There had to be more content, even if you had to look for it.

You resolved to do a more in-depth search once you got home.

“...I’m working on it,” You mumbled, biting the inside of your cheek. Hesitantly, you scanned over her, speeding up to stay at her side as something caught our attention. “When did that start?”

She raised a hand and ran her fingers through her hair self-consciously, already aware of what you were talking about. It was tied back, today, done up painfully tightly and secured with a white hair-band. Her hair was too short for it to come off as elegant or sophisticated, but the way it swung as she walked was cute, and the effort that’d been put into pinning each strand into submission was admirable. She caught onto your approval quickly, locking eyes with you as she spoke. “I’m trying to impress you, idiot.”

You blinked. She blinked. You blushed, stuttering out something stupid, and she punched you in the side, laughing.

“I’m kidding, (Y/n), don’t freak out on me.” You tried, unsuccessfully, to do as she demanded, earning you another blow, this one coming in the form of an elbow thrown into your rib cage. “What? Can you only accept confessions from 2-D girls, now?”

“It’s just…” You shoved your hands in your pockets, attempting to hide your distress. “It’s just different. I wasn't expecting it!”

“Exactly, it’s different.” She smiled, throwing the offending pony-tail over her shoulder. “Little changes have been doing me a lot of good, lately.”

‘One day’ had come too soon.

You knew it would, eventually. You’d been expecting it, in fact. Back-ups had been prepared, a new game and an older series to watch and a few stories on the… riskier side, made by people with too much time and similar interests, and for all intents and purposes, you were ready. It was natural. People got tired of things, of characters and plots and seeing the same face every day, and you knew you would get tired of Monika too, eventually. She was wonderfully written, but no character could be entertaining for… how long had it been? A month? Two?

You needed to check the date more often. Time always seemed to get weird, slowing down and skipping ahead so awkwardly when you spent most of the day in front of a screen.

You guessed the date didn’t matter, though. You were still in the same position, either way, your head resting on one hand while the other laid over your mouse. You’d been staring down Monika’s character file for far too long, but not nearly long enough, at the same time.

It felt like this should be a bigger deal. Like there should be a ceremony, a commemoration, something to mark the occasion. Should you celebrate? Play a funeral dirge? Every action felt inappropriate, but none felt quite as inappropriate as not taking one at all. Absentmindedly, you quit the game, a reaction based on reflex alone. You had a few times, in the beginning, but you still checked Monika’s dialogue. A parting interaction, you rationalized. The final interaction.

"Okay. I'm just going to accept the fact that you need to quit the game once in a while. I'm starting to get used to it, anyway."

Oh, god, she sounded like a clingy girlfriend. You guessed that’s what she was, but she was never this… passive-aggressive.

"Besides, it makes me happy that you always come back..."

You perked up, at that, your favor easily swayed. Maybe you could wait one more day, just give this whole thing another shot--

“But I shouldn’t have to be happy when you come back.”

You hadn’t pressed anything, that time. She shouldn’t have been talking.

“I know you have your own life, and I know you need breaks, but… it’s a really horrible feeling. And since I try to make you feel the best you can feel, you should want to make me feel good, too!”

Except, you didn’t want to make her happy. She was a fictional character, one you didn’t want to be lectured by. Monika seemed to catch onto that as soon as you thought it, though.

“And since you have to want to make me happy… it must be a glitch in my character file. That makes sense. Whenever it happens, it almost feels like I've been killed or something."

It was meta, a little concerning, but your empathy had been all-but drained dry. It wasn’t like you’d felt bad for leaving Monika in the first place, honestly, but an appeal to that non-existent sympathy wouldn’t earn her many points.

"If you could figure out what's causing that, I'll love you forever~"

Yeah, right. Sure she would. Monika would absolutely love you, forever and always, to eternity and beyond. May death do you part.

You didn’t hesitate, this time, deleting her character file and exiting the game.

You didn’t really feel like playing through the final scene. ~

How long it’d been since someone used this part of the school?

‘Empty’ didn’t quite cover the expanse of nothingness in front of you. The floor was tinted grey with scuff-marks and dirt, unused tables pushed against the walls and chairs that weren’t fit to be sat in stacked on top, forming barricades between shutter-covered windows and yourself. The door had stuck, despite the key in your hand, and everything seemed to make a truly awful creaking sound when touched. The only thing that looked new (relatively new, at least) was the teacher’s desk, dark faux-wood unscarred by whatever’d torn through the rest of the room. Even the lights seemed to feel the effect, dim and flickering, some already succumbing to the pure dullness that permeated the air. It was abandoned. Desolate.

More similar to another classroom you’d acquainted yourself with than you felt comfortable admitting.

“Some people say it’s haunted,” She started, closing the door behind her. You heard the ring of keys jingle, the lock sliding back into place, but you didn’t bother turning to face her. “A lot of people, actually. Rumor’s that a group of underclassmen girls used to sneak at night and do all sorts of satanic stuff. It’s why no one uses this building, anymore.”

“They have to be joking,” You countered, taking a step towards the teacher's desk. You ran a finger along the surface lazily, wiping the resulting dust build-up onto your shirt. “That kind of thing doesn’t happen in real life. Someone probably just thought it’d make a good campfire story.”

She approached before replying, her bag having been discarded somewhere along the way. With silence as unusual as it was between the two of you, you couldn’t help but laugh, turning and getting ready to tease her for being scared or believing in something so supernatural. You opened your mouth, but the joke died and turned to ash on your tongue before it could make it past your teeth.

There she was, like you knew she’d be. Hair up, uniform perfect, and a bright smile pulling at the edges of her lips. As cheery as it ever was. As blinding as it ever was.

The carving knife in her hand almost rivaled its shine.

She took another step towards you, and you took one back, hitting the desk abruptly. “You’re acting like you’d know anything about the real-world, (Y/n).” She was giggling, again, flexing her grip on the knife’s hold. You considered attempting to run past her, making a break for it, but the key was still in her blazer’s pocket. You glanced down, searching for your phone, but its outline was gone and its weight was equally as absent.

Like it’d disappeared into thin air.

It hadn’t, though. Your aggressor laughed one more time, holding up the device in her free hand before dropping it to the floor and crushing it under her heel, the resulting crack sending a spike of something dark into your chest.

“You don’t know shit about the real world,” She said, waving the blade around haphazardly. Another step forward, this one all-but closing the distance between the two of you. “All you think about are… games and fake girls, never what’s right in front of you. We’ve known each other for four years, but I had to hospitalize someone before you’d do so much as look at me.”

Four years. Four years. You hadn’t noticed her before a few months ago. “Listen, I just didn’t think we were that close--”

“I know.” This time, the knife came down. It missed your side, but not enough to save your shirt, a tear forming and something crimson spreading outward from the small cut. The sting came a second later. You wanted to move, to scream, to run, but it was all you could do to remember to breathe as she went on. “You didn’t think we were close. You didn’t think I was worth getting close to. That’s why I started wearing this fucking costume.” She ran a hand through her pony-tail, fingers catching on her hair-tie. The band was practically ripped from her scalp, snapping before she discarded it. “I’m not even a brunette. I thought dying my hair might get your attention, and… it did. Of course it did.” She paused, shrugging, and you remembered how to inhale. “But, that doesn’t matter now.”

You relaxed, ever so slightly. “It doesn’t?”

“It doesn’t.” Her grin was back in a moment, your hopes dropping as soon as they’d arose. “Because the two of us are going to stay here until we know each other, or… until you know me. As well as I know you, at least. Then, we’re going to leave and I’m going to be your girlfriend. It’ll be so sweet, right?” The tension in her shoulder’s lessened, dissolving. But, that edge was still there, and you doubted it’d dissipate any time soon. “You probably don’t even know my name. I’ve never heard you use it before.”

Your eyes widened, the realization hitting you later than it should’ve. “Monika?”

“No, not Monika,” She answered, softly, her smile taking on a more disappointing note. She brandished her beloved knife, and your heart dropped into your stomach. “But, you don’t have to worry about getting it wrong. We’re going to work at it until you love me just as much as you love her.”

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stayarmytinyzenmoa-l · 3 years

Note

Is it ok if I request for Zemblanity guys and how they would react to having an argument with y/n and she leaves in the middle of it?

Yes you can! I’m on a bit of a Zemblanity roll today so why not?

Zemblanity!WayV Reacts to having an argument with (Y/N) and her leaving in the middle of it

Zemblanity AU

TW: Arguments, Mentions of Previous Character Death

CW: Minor spoilers to my series Zemblanity if you haven’t read/finished it.

Genre: Light Angst

[Main Masterlist] | [Zemblanity Masterlist]

Word Count: 1.0K

Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an AU and a work of fiction, obviously the idol(s) mentioned/written/implied would never partake in or condone these actions. I would never wish any of these actions to occur to anyone mentioned in the writings of this story, nor do I wish any harm on them. The idols mentions in this work are meant to be acknowledged as no more than face claims and are not meant to represent the idols in any way.

Qian Kun

Panic. That’s it. This happened last time before you originally died in his timeline, so he’d be more determined to patch things up with you. He was never the type to go to bed angry, so he’d probably run after you and try very hard to fix things. He’d try not to be too desperate about it, he still has pride, but his expression would betray his thoughts.

“Wait, love, let’s talk this out. I don’t think we should let this one sit.”

Lee Ten

He’d be kind of shocked at first. He probably wouldn’t be able to wrap his head around the fact that you actually left. He’d be pissed about it then for sure, but he wouldn’t pursue you, no, he’d be waiting right by the front door for when you come back, then you’d both have a talk then. Ten knows how to get what he wants, and he isn’t against using those methods on you. He’d never force himself on you, goodness no, but he will make sure you know what he wants.

“Did she just leave? She really thinks she can do that? Whatever, I’ll talk to her later about it.”

Dong Sicheng

Heartbroken, definitely. He’s not sure if you know this, but he tries really hard to make up for what he’s done in the past, and honestly you just walking out on him was such a blow to him. He’s practically on his knees asking you how he could make it up to you, and he’d probably promise never to take his anger out on you again. His job is stressful, but not stressful enough to put it over you.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N), I was out of line, is there any way I can make it up to you?”

Huang Xuxi

I think he’d be annoyed at first, probably expecting you to walk back into the house in a few minutes. But once the ten-minute mark has passed, I think he’d really realize that you weren’t coming back for a while, then he’d get heartbroken. After all, it was you and him together in this place, he’d never forgive himself if he pushed you away again. Then he’d go out and look for you.

“(Y/N)! I’ve been looking for you everywhere, are you alright? Let’s go home and talk it out, okay?”

Xiao Dejun

Annoyed too, probably. It was no strange occurrence to have arguments, especially before you both started seeing each other in a romantic context. The arguments just became much less frequent ever since the engagement, but they still happen. Which is why he was expecting you to come back... but you didn’t. And when he came home and saw you curled on the bed he really felt bad for it.

“My love? Can I come in? I’m so sorry, can we talk about it?”

Huang Guanheng

Guanheng knows better than to add fuel to the flames, so he’d probably let you go for a bit, let out some steam before coming home because, to be honest, he was rather angry too. You both didn’t fight often but when you do it’s never pretty. But once you’ve both calmed down I think you’ll both have very productive reconciliations.

“I was a bit unreasonable there, wasn’t I? No! Don’t apologize, it was mostly my fault. I’m just glad we could work it out, like always.”

Liu Yangyang

He’d be pissed for like two seconds before he runs out after you. No way he’s just gonna let you go like that, last time you did something impulsive you kind of, well, died so he doesn’t want that to happen again. Luckily for him, and for you to some extent, he’s very persistent on clearing things up so they don’t get lost in translation. Remember, you are his best friend before you are his girlfriend.

“(Y/N)! Wait! Let’s not fight about this, it was silly anyway, right? I’m sorry for getting so angry.”

#nct #wayv #nct x reader #wayv x reader #zemblanity #zemblanity au #my writings #requests #nct reactions #wayv reactions

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cordonian-literature · 4 years

Text

The Aftermath - Ch. 6

Worries and Concerns

Summary: Liam breaks the news to Maxwell and Bertrand, while Regina wonders where the king is.

Word Count: ~3.0k

Warning: Mention of character death, language

*All characters belong to Pixelberry, except those that are unique to my story (I’ve also used some characters and fictional instances from Donna Tartt’s “The Goldfinch”)*

Catch up here!

Tags: @captain-kingliamsqueen @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @gkittylove99 @lovablegranny @loudbluebirdlover @mom2000aggie @kingliam2019 @queenrileyrose @shanzay44 @cordonianroyalty @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @cinnamonspongecake @queenjilian @kuladekiwi @twinkle-320 @iaminlovewithtrr @charlotteg234 @amandablink @texaskitten30 @tinkie1973 @louiseingram1208 @queencatherynerhys @pens-girl-87 @missevabean

I hope I got everyone tagged! If I missed someone, or if anyone wants to be added/removed, let me know!

- Maxwell -

On Saturday morning, Savannah said that she wanted to come along to visit Riley. Her first few days in New York had been spent in the hotel or walking around the city with Bartie; she wanted a chance to visit Riley since everyone else had seen her already, and she thought that Riley seeing another person from her past might help trigger some memories. They couldn’t leave Bartie alone in the hotel, so Maxwell suggested that they bring him along, hoping that Riley’s children will be there and might become friends with Bartie.

During the drive over to the hospital, Maxwell receives a text from Drake:

Liam and I are about to leave. Meet you guys at the hospital.

Almost an hour after they’ve been at the hospital — they had been piled in the waiting room most of the time — Liam and Drake still haven’t shown up. Bertrand looks around for Bastien, who isn’t there either.

Riley’s doctor comes up to Maxwell and Bertrand, telling them that they can go in and talk to Riley for a few minutes before her next check-up.

Maxwell looks back in the direction of the stairs and the elevator, hoping that Liam and Drake would show up within the next couple seconds, but only hospital staff and other patients come into view.

“Perhaps His Majesty had some business to take care of. Come along now,” Bertrand says, pulling Maxwell into Riley’s room.

The bandage had been removed from Riley’s head, and now there was just a large gauze taped to a part of her hairline. Maxwell wondered if she had eaten anything since she was brought into the hospital: she looked so boney that her body barely disturbed the sheets pulled over her, and the only dent Maxwell noticed was her leg in a cast.

Savannah walked up to the side of her bed while Bartie lingered at the door.

“Hey, Riley,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m doing alright,” Riley answers, glancing at everyone in the room. “Feeling a bit better, but sometimes I get a little woozy.”

Savannah motions Bartie to come stand next to her. “Do you remember Bartie? I mean, he was just a baby when you first saw him, but I thought maybe...?”

“No... sorry.” Riley forced a smile and looked away.

“You might not remember us from a couple days ago when we came in to ask questions, but I’m Maxwell.” He holds out his hand for Riley to shake.

“Oh, hello.” She gives a smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Duke Bertrand Beaumont of Ramsford.” Bertrand reaches to shake her hand.

“You’re a duke?” Riley asks.

“Yes. The Beaumonts have served the royal family and the people of Cordonia for generations,” Bertrand states.

“Cordonia? I’ve never been.”

Bertrand’s face falls momentarily, but he fixes himself, his mouth forming a straight line with a hint of disappointment. “Perhaps one day you could visit.”

“Maybe.”

After a few seconds of silence, Savannah says, “Riley needs some rest. We’ll be right outside.”

They walk out, closing the door behind them. The adults avoid each others’ eyes, while Bartie looks between them quizzically.

A while later, before they’re all about to leave to go have some lunch, Drake and Liam show up, with Bastien trailing behind them.

“Liam! Drake!” Maxwell cries. “Where were you guys? They let us see Riley for a few moments.”

“They did?” Liam’s eyes go wide. “Did... did she say anything? Did she recognize any of you?”

They shake their heads. “No, but we introduced ourselves.” They notice the doctor and two nurses walk into Riley’s room. “Looks like they’re going to take some more tests, so I guess we won’t be able to go in for a while. Where were you guys anyway?”

Liam sighs, seemingly preparing himself for his next words. “A DNA lab center. In Brooklyn.”

“What were you doing there?” Maxwell gives a questioning look.

Bertrand jumps into the conversation before Liam can say anything. “I was the one who informed Bastien that it would be appropriate to have one done, as I was suspicious that Riley’s son may have been fathered by His Majesty and not her late husband.”

“Yes,” Liam continues. “And Riley’s mother confirmed that I am the father.”

“What?” Maxwell and Savannah cry in union.

A shadow of mild surprise passes over Bertrand’s face. “I did not expect Mrs. Brooks to admit it, but it is convenient that she did.”

Liam, staring at the ground with his jaw set, explains, “She told Bastien and I that they didn’t put Riley’s husband’s name as the father on the boy’s birth certificate because he wasn’t the father, but also because I wasn’t there to acknowledge paternity.”

“Woah...,” Maxwell comments. “That must be... a lot to take in.”

Liam squints down at his shoes, eyebrows furrowed.

Drake puts a hand on his shoulder. “You good, Liam?”

Liam shakes his head. “The boy is ten years old.” He looks back up. “I never knew. I should have... I should have tried harder to find her. Riley’s mother said that she had tried to reach out to me, but only once. Now here we are,” he throws up his hands, “I’ve a son who knows nothing of me, just as I know nothing of him, and the only woman who can explain everything knows nothing of us.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it, Liam,” Maxwell consoles. “Maybe she didn’t tell you because... because....” He glances over towards Bertrand and Savannah for help.

“Because of everything that happened with Tariq and the scandal? Because I was engaged to Madeleine? Because of my father’s actions against her, she no longer want anything to do with me?”

“Liam, no—,” Drake tries to interrupt Liam’s train of thought.

“Was she afraid of me? Afraid that I wouldn’t want him?”

“Liam,” Drake stops him. “What happened, happened. There’s a reason Riley never told you. Whatever it is, she’ll be able to tell us when her memory comes back.”

Maxwell didn’t want to voice his concern: what if Riley’s memory didn’t come back? Since she recognized her mother, then maybe she would want to stay in New York. Would we have to leave her here, or would she still want to come to Cordonia with us?

What about her kids? We should really ask them how they’re doing. Those poor baby blossoms would want to stay with their mother. But if Gabriel was Liam’s son, then there’s no doubt that he’ll want to bring him back to Cordonia as his heir. Even if he decides against that, Bertrand will convince him to, and if Regina finds out, she might force him.

Liam sighs. There are chairs in front of Riley’s room, and everyone takes a seat. For almost half an hour, no one speaks, but they look up every time any person interacted with Riley’s door. After about half an hour, Bartie whispers to his mother that he’s hungry. Savannah asks the group if anyone wanted to come with or if they wanted her to bring them back anything. No one moves, and so she and Bartie walk towards the exit.

Maxwell wanted to go with; he wanted to go and show Bartie all the sights, have him try his favorite foods, to experience Coney Island with him — but he was pulled back from those desires and glued to his seat because of Riley. She was hurt. She needed his help, He wanted to help her, help the long lost member of his house who always appreciated him. He just didn’t know how to help her.

He wanted to help Liam, too. Maxwell could tell that Liam was experiencing a pain deeper than any of them would ever know. Riley getting her memory back would be just as painful of a process as her not getting her memory back.

A few hours later they all step out for a moment to go have dinner, and when they come back to the hospital, they find Riley’s mother in Riley’s room.

“Mrs. Brooks,” Liam greets politely when the woman steps out. There’s a genuine smile on his face. “It is nice to see you again.”

“Yes,” Mrs. Brooks responds. She doesn’t say anything else, and the both of them stare at each other awkwardly. Maxwell, Drake, and Bertrand look between the two nervously.

“Are Gabriel and Eleanor here?” Liam breaks the silence.

“No. They’re at home. A family friend is taking care of them for the night.”

“I see. I hope Gabriel was not distressed after everything that was spoken about today?”

“Gabriel has been emotionally distressed this entire week. The only father he’s every known died in a horrible attack, and now he has to deal with his mother not knowing him and another person coming into his life trying to take him away from his family.”

The tension increases. “Of course, ma’am, I understand. I have no intention to take him away from the rest of his family. And I know how difficult it is to lose a parent at such a young age. I would not wish or purposefully position anymore stress on Gabriel.”

“Just as you didn’t purposefully position Riley into back-to-back stressful situations?”

Liam sighs. There’s a shadow of regret on his face. It lingers for longer than expected. “I did my best to protect Riley during the social season and during my engagement. I did my best to keep her from any type of harm, emotional or physical.”

She scowls. “Oh, I’m sure you did—,” she tries to continue accusing Liam, seemingly irritated by his very presence, but another nurse taps her shoulder and whispers something to her. Eventually, Mrs. Brooks turns back around. “I just came here to check up on Riley. My shift is about to start on another floor. Have a good night.” She nods and walks off.

“Damn,” Drake comments. “She really doesn’t like you.”

They stay in the hospital for another hour. Everyone but Liam goes in and asks Riley a few questions that they think might jog her memory. They make sure she’s comfortable, and Liam speaks to doctors and nurses about any improvements in her condition. Once Riley falls asleep, they convince Liam to go back to the hotel for the rest of the night. He protests, saying that he needs to be there in case anything happens, but Bertrand is able to get Riley’s doctor to promise that she will call if any change were to happen.

They leave the hospital together, but when they part, Maxwell notices Liam’s unusual expression: he seemed both stressed and relieved, hopeful and helpless, joyful yet upset. Maxwell looks away once he realizes that his emotions throughout the day were the same, and only now does he recognize his own feelings on the faces of his friends and brother.

- Regina -

After Constantine’s long-expected death at the hands of cancer, Regina, the aging Queen Mother, removed herself from ruling, putting the responsibility fully on her step-son.

She knew he could handle it; if her late husband was confident in giving his second son the crown, she refused to let a drop of doubt enter her heart.

Madeleine’s engagement to Liam — though it happened in an unexpected way through the will of Constantine — still brought joy to Regina: she would be able to continue to serve her country through the hands of her niece, who she held in the highest regard.

But once that engagement ended after Tariq’s statement was released, Regina consoled herself that even if she could not have her own kin rule beside her step-son, at least it would be a woman who was passionate about being at Liam’s side and would support his love for his country.

Yet, once again, she was disappointed. Once the court came back to Cordonia and Liam had confirmed the rumors that his engagement had ended, he also stated that he did not see himself being engaged again in the near future.

For a few weeks, Regina and Constantine let him be, but after time had passed, Constantine expressed his concern for Cordonia’s stability, stating that if he ended his engagement to be with Lady Riley, then he should make her his queen for the stability of his country.

Liam revealed to him that Lady Riley had disappeared without notice, but he had made it his duty to look for her and bring her back to them.

Years went by and Constantine passed away. Liam seemed no closer to marrying or producing an heir, and so Regina began to pester him to look for another woman. Whether it be during the next social season or while traveling like Leo, he had to marry. For Cordonia.

Almost every Duke, Duchess, Count, Countess, Lord, and Lady of the Cordonian court and foreign courts had pushed either themselves or their daughters in front of the unwed King, but he had barely given the women a glance.

Her concerns and demands fell on deaf ears, but Regina never gave up. Barely a week would go by when she did not remind him of his duty. But as she got older and her body began to fail her in terms of mobility, she would visit his office only in moments of extreme rebelliousness on his part. Otherwise, she would just call him from the comfort of her quarters.

It was Sunday afternoon, and she had just had a very irritable brunch with her cousin, Adelaide, who had been requesting a meal with Regina everyday for the past six weeks. Adelaide had done nothing but talk about Madeleine’s recent humanitarian accomplishments with the poor youth of Cordonia. Regina didn’t want to be reminded of Liam’s failed engagement, and so she feigned a migraine and dismissed Adelaide.

After today’s brunch, Regina could not help but think of every way that Liam was failing his country.

She asked a servant to bring her cellphone and to dial Liam’s number, her heart aflame with annoyance and disappointment. The line was disconnected, and she was asked to leave a voicemail. She disconnected and called him again. And then again. And then again. She called a total of ten times, and yet still Liam did not answer.

She asked a servant to give her his arm and lead her towards the King’s study, and sent another one who find out where the King was.

Inside of his study, there were papers scattered all over his desk. She expected that he had been working and had simply stepped out for a few moments.

Where could he be without his cellphone?

Her servant walked back in.

“Well?” Regina yells. “Where is His Majesty?”

“Your Highness,” the young man begins. “Some other staff members have informed me that His Majesty left for America on Tuesday evening.”

“For what reason?”

“They do not know.”

She sends him out again to find more information on her step-son’s location. Hours later, none of her servants have told her anything useful, but Liam calls her back.

“Regina,” she hears once she brings the phone to her ear. “Is everything alright?”

“No, Liam, everything is not alright!” she screams into the phone. “Where have you gone?”

“I am overseas, Regina,” Liam explains.

“When will you be returning?” she interrogates.

There’s a pause. “I do not know, but will inform you when I am more certain.”

Regina doesn’t respond, and Liam doesn’t say anything more. Eventually, after spending a long moment deep in thought, Regina speaks: “Does your trip have anything to do with your search for Lady Riley?”

“It does, in fact.”

Fuming, Regina continues: “Then I hope you are there to bring her back and marry her, with no more of the uncooperative and pathetic stalling that you’ve done this past decade. Cordonia needs stability. A strong ruler means nothing if his position is not secure.”

“I will not be forcing Lady Riley to return. She will go wherever she wishes, and it will be upon her own terms.”

“Liam, have you gone mad?”

He doesn’t respond, and Regina can hear other people speaking on the other end.

“Where are you then?” she continues questioning. “Los Angeles? New York? Miami?”

“New York, Regina, we are all together in New York.” He pulls the phone away from his ear and Regina can hear him talking to other voices. Eventually, he speaks again: “I cannot talk right now Regina. Have a nice day.”

The call ends. Regina tells one of her personal servants to go get a member of her guard.

What foolishness has that boy gotten himself into? If Lady Riley is within his grasp, then he must bring her back. She has done too much harm to Cordonia already, a harm that has multiplied as time has gone on. If she was not able to support this country before, then what use is she now?

Liam has spent year upon year longing for her, and now he does not want to bring her back? Why the sudden change? Where did she end up? Is she manipulating him somehow?

“Your Highness?” someone knocks on the door.

“Erik, come in,” Regina calls to the most trustworthy member of her guard.

“How can I be of service?” he steps into the room.

“His Majesty is currently in New York,” she says to him. “Foolish boy went there to find Lady Riley.”

“I remember her, ma’am.”

“To my understanding he has found her, but for some reason is not willing to bring her back. I want you to go there and find out why.”

“Of course, ma’am. I will depart as soon as possible.”

“Thank you. Let me know what you find as soon as you find it, but try not to interfere in whatever is happening. I am not going to let that young man bring Cordonia to the brink of ruin just because his feelings towards some trollop are no longer returned.”

#theroyalromance #kingliam #liam rys #drakewalker #maxwell beaumont #liam x mc #liam x riley #riley brooks #choices fanfiction #choices fandom #trr fanfic #trr fandom #the royal romance fanfic

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thejustmaiden · 4 years

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Why do you think Sunrise did that event in with Sesshomaru and Rin's VAs mirroring InuKag? They have already done that CD Drama, do you think they did that to give hope to the shippers? What if after so many hints, if they reveal in the anime that Sessrin isn't canon, aren't the shippers gonna be disapointed? This may be a dumb question and your answers are always smart and well-articulated, but i seriously don't understand their marketing strategy, do you care to explain for me?

Oh, hey there! I appreciate all the love you've been leaving on my blogs lately. I really hope I'm able to give you an answer you're satisfied with. Sorry it took some time to get back to you. I hope this makes up for it. 🙏

I'm not gonna lie, I'm up and down about how I feel about that livestream and what it means for the future of this ship. My brain has been on roller coaster mode since basically the moment the sequel was announced. We're in the home stretch now, and we better get the answers WE WANT the second that sequel comes out. Since it's evidently not going to happen anytime sooner- welp!

Before the livestream aired, I really thought us fans were on the verge of discovering the mom and that it was going to be Rin. We still had hope she wasn't, but at the same time most of us antis were "bracing for impact." lol

Then nothing happened.

We were pretty shocked but obviously relieved. The days before it came out, I was telling others (as well as myself lol) that just because Sesshomaru and Rin's VAs had a livestream together doesn't confirm anything. Besides, why does that have to automatically mean that both pairings need to be romantic? We all know how integral these characters are/were to each other's storylines, so these pairings make the most logical sense, wouldn't you say?

In the previous livestream with the voice actors who play Inuyasha and Kagome, they discuss the new character Moroha and introduce her as Inuyasha AND Kagome's daughter. Now let's compare that to the other livestream with Sesshomaru and Rin's VAs. When they described Towa and Setsuna, they did so as Sesshomaru's daughters NOT Sesshomaru and Rin's daughters. That to me is the most telling piece of evidence.

Like how could they not use that prime opportunity to tell us Rin's the mom when her voice actor was literally sitting right there??! We were all expecting it and they still insisted on giving us nothing! What this tells me is that it's possible this mom is a new character, and it even appears she is quite pivotal to the new series. I keep changing my opinion on that part though to be honest with you, because sometimes I think she won't be important at all in the grand scheme of things. (See what I mean about being up and down? lol) Idk about you, but it seems to me like we haven't even met her character. If it was Rin, why keep it a mystery? It's not like Sessrin's popularity is exactly a secret in this fandom. Why wait until the big reveal if it's "so obvious" in the first place? How does Sunrise benefit from hiding this information?

If it does end up being Rin, it would've been better to just come out and say it. If this ain't just pure fanbait like some of us still hope it is, why hold back? Give 'em what they want already and let us antis be at peace. If they hope to think that I'll change my mind and give this sequel a go just because I've waited this long so might as well, they're sorely mistaken. If anything, I'm going to be pissed they kept us in the dark this long when they could've just saved us all the trouble. I imagine that goes for a lot of us, shippers and antis alike. Whatever way you look at it, I won't be invested in this sequel if Sessrin goes canon- period. I cannot and will not be on board with a series that promotes such a harmful and insulting dynamic.

Which brings us to Sunrise's marketing strategy. Well, I definitely think they have been catering to the fans of this ship for quite some time now. Because, ya know, money. Whether that's because they plan to make this ship canon or not remains to be seen. "Show meee the moneeeeyyyy!" *yells in Jerry Maguire*

There was first the drama cd and more recently that calendar which included art of adult!Rin with Sesshomaru, but neither of those are canon first off. Also, does anyone know if it was actually confirmed to be pro-Sessrin fan art? I mean, I know it doesn't look very good when the artist who made it is a Sessrin shipper and certain fans are fawning over their OTP, but that doesn't necessarily mean the calender automatically is either last I checked. I wonder why it can't simply be Rin as an adult visiting with Sesshomaru. I believe in one picture she's seen giving him a flower, much like little Rin would've done, or just as any child does for a loved one. So if Rin is still bringing him flowers as an adult, I would assume that means their relationship dynamic hasn't changed at all. That's what's supposed to happen, too! If an adult's relationship was established with another person while they were just a child, then that adult will always view them as a child no matter what and vice versa. Even when those children become grown-ups, that won't change. That's just how things are, or how they're supposed to be rather. In other words, a normal healthy adult-child bond does not resemble one like Sessrin.

Both Sessrin fans and antis agree there haven't been any romantic implications between Sesshomaru and Rin in the original series. That's why I can't understand for the life of me why we're even having this discussion. Alas, here we are. This is what happens when society has conditioned us to believe that the only proper (aka "best") way an adult male and a young female's closeness can evolve is with romance. So maybe it's not obvious at first (because that would be illegal), but we should EXPECT their relationship to shift in that direction. Why, you ask? Well, simply because sexualizing young girls is the norm so why not, right? No clues or foreshadowing required! Because like I just said, that would be illegal. Fiction has loopholes for this kinda stuff, so problem solved?

Nope! Aging her up counts too, folks! When you look at a girl character and the first thing you think is, "I can't wait till she grows up so she can f*ck" then, yeah, you're a part of the problem. You may not realize it, but you are. That's not to say you're a bad person or that it's even your fault, just saying that there are times in all of our lives where we start to question some of our beliefs. If you not only support but desire the idea of a romance eventually forming between a grown man- yes, 19 is an adult- and a young girl, then you should probably ask yourself why that may be and re-evaluate. Please stop using cultural differences and history that dates back almost a thousand years to justify this so-called tradition.

"You all shouldn't think too deeply about this, it's just fiction! Ugh, you're ruining the fun! Antis should all just shut up! Only we can have problems, but when you do it's just complaining!"

Right....

And by the way, most of us are not even complaining. We're being critical of the content we're watching. Criticism isn't always pretty unfortunately.

If Sunrise and Rumiko do decide to go through with this, then I will disappointed, sure, but not surprised. Romanticizing these sexualized images of young or pre-pubescent girls has been happening for far too long, after all. We've become desensitized to it sadly enough, especially when the media continues to glorify it. I wish we'd realize how many young girls- or minors in general- we're putting in danger by sending messages such as this.

To you young teenage girls and even boys reading this, you may not fully understand right now, but it's never okay for anyone to tell you that your body being sexualized is a natural and beautiful thing. It's going through through a lot changes at your age, yes, but they should never use your curiosity to satisfy their sexual needs. Don't allow some of these stories to be an example of what is acceptable to occur in your own life if you were ever to encounter a similar situation, especially if fiction is all that you have to compare it to. It is not in any way, shape, or form okay for an adult to say or do sexual/romantic things to you. Even a conversation that may seem harmless at first could have dire consequences. No, not even if you trust them and they're one of your favorite people in this world are these things ever appropriate. What they're asking from you or showing you is dangerous, and even if it doesn't seem like it they are very likely taking advantage of you. If you're ever unsure about something, don't hesitate to come to me. Or maybe you have a loved one that you can go to, that works too. 😊

Idk if I even gave you a definite answer, but perhaps it's because I'm still figuring it out myself. If I ever do, ha! I hope by allowing you to get inside my head for a little bit you got a better idea. Or maybe not, and I just made it more confusing for you. Oops! lol Feel free to hit me up again, dear, and have a nice day/night!! 👋

#inuyasha #hanyo no yashahime #anti sessrin #asks #answered ask

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