#and i feel so fucking guilty so incredibly fucking at fault its killing me because i should have noticed soon i should have paid more

[wulfhalls]

.

#over a month now since my baby boy left me. #genuinely feel sick with how much i miss him all the time everywhere #it feels like its been 15 years and also only half an hour since then #finally got the locket to put some of his fur in so he'll always be with me. which. #made me feel better for approximately 4.2 minutes and then we were back to bottomless endless grief #I miss him and miss him and miss him and miss him and miss him all day every day every second of every minute #his absence is so loud #and i feel so fucking guilty so incredibly fucking at fault its killing me because i should have noticed soon i should have paid more #fucking attention #hes gone and its my fault. my fault my sweet darling angel who only ever loved me is gone #my baby boy deserved so much better #and all i can do is cry about it it doesnt change anything it doesnt make anything better it doesnt bring him back #anyway. i wish I was dead haha #u know the apiel ignore me i just needed to type this out ect and so on #bb baby #txt.me

[be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie]

Sorry I don't know if you have answered this before, but how you think in a3 the reveal of Spi saving Quaritch is gonna go? Also what Spider gonna do when they find out?

Cause i think its either, he's gonna feel so guilty that he just lets anything coming to him happen (wheter it's getting attacked, insulted, yelled at, exiled...), because he feels like he deserves it.

Or, just get angry and lash out ( like all the neglect and shitty things he's been through at some point have to build some sort of resentment or bitterness inside him)

Because how did they not expect that he was gonna get Stockholm Syndrome with him when he's the first adult to actually care about him ( in Quaritch's own twisted way) and saved him not once but twice, when everybody else just left him to die.

And Spider saying something along the lines of: why did Jake get forgiven when he literally help with the destruction of hometree, and I just commited the crime of existing, its not my fault who my parents are, i cant fucking help it, i dont need to be reminded everyday.

This is a hard question, because it's so hard to predict the exact situation that will go down. Will the entire Sully family be there, will he tell just Kiri or Lo'ak, will he tell Jake, will they find out from Quaritch returning- a ton of options that affect the various reactions in a ton of ways.

My best guess, based just on how I think James structures his scripts, I think that they won't find out until the very end of the movie when confronted with actual Quaritch. That's my guess. I think we'll then find out he already told Kiri offscreen, I don't think they'll show us. It gives us a chance for a new antagonist for Jake to work with for the majority of the film in Vaarang, and it gives Quaritch the time to rebuild (and most likely do character building shit that's gonna make more people simp for him annoyingly) until he comes in at the end and does something really unforgivable that solidifies that choice directly in front of Spider. It's your Anakin massacring the tusken raiders moment.

If these were my scripts, that is where I would kill Neteyam, and I would have Quaritch do it. You build on his possible arc from the previous movie and then it's all the more crushing when he does something he can't come back from in the audience's eyes (child killing and animal abuse being those things audiences don't forgive). But we don't have to talk about how if James consulted me I could have made this shit better. We don't have to kidnap children to force EVERY confrontation, James.

Spider's reactions are hard to predict, because Spider has a lot of confidence in himself in the comics. He stands up for himself. We don't see this as much in the movie, and we've all sort of personified him as guilty and self blaming. I tend to lean towards him feeling incredibly guilty for this. I don't see any world at all where he would compare himself to Jake, these are all things that happened before his time that I assume he has only limited knowledge on. The details of Jake's betrayal CAN'T be talked about widely, especially not with Spider. I don't think he would ever think to bring it up. I can see him getting frustrated at some point and talking about how they left him, but not in reaction to this. I see him only feeling guilty for this, and I think they will want to put his position in question in the film before making it clear at the end via his reaction to whatever terrible shit Quaritch does.

Watch me be wildly off base now.

#miles spider socorro #spider socorro #jake sully #lo'ak sully #kiri sully #miles quaritch #james cameron #james cameron avatar #avatar #avatar the way of water #melissa's asks #melissa on avatar (cameron) #melissa is an english major

[frosnpls]

cw rhory (and suicide) talk again and general mental health talk

following on from that post yesterday i do definitely need therapy because as much as i convince myself ive healed (and to be fair i have, his death may have been traumatic but its incredible how quickly you realise you were being abused when youre... not being abused anymore) i do sometimes miss him and i hate it. ill see things like accounts from others who've lost people to suicide and it triggers that deep emptiness i felt when he first died despite the fact that he essentially ruined the first few years of my adult life

part of me wishes id never even met him but then i dont know if i would be as close to the friends i have now without him having been there (most of them anyway, if we pretend he didnt have one my best friends blocked because he would get jealous of how much fun i had speaking to her) and i also think he would have. died a lot sooner if i hadnt met him. his brother in law once told me it seemed like id afforded them two more years with him alive and i think it was meant to be grateful but in a way it was just upsetting because it made me feel guilty for all the times i had wished i didn't know him. it felt like i couldnt even afford a theoretical past version of myself that release. i know ultimately his death wasn't my fault and in fact i actively prevented it for a long time but it always always feels like i should have done something else. i feel like i shouldve told his brother that he was actively suicidal again but id come to his brother about it so many times that i think he just didnt think anything of it anymore.

and like despite how much i suffered through everything i dealt with with him i. do miss how we were sometimes. not him specifically, but the relationship we had when it was good. sometimes it upsets me that i cant even remember most of the positive times despite there being so many of them for the first two years we knew each other. sometimes i catch a glimpse of the tattoo on my arm when im getting out of the shower. the tattoo of one of his drawings, one of the only ones i managed to save when he deleted every single message he'd ever sent me. and sometimes it makes me feel like shit because i have this constant reminder of the boy who abused me emblazoned on my body, and nobody's first tattoo at the age of 21 should be a memorial to their boyfriend who killed himself, and it just makes me feel like shit because under everything else i really did love him and thats why i never walked away. thats why i didnt give up on him even when i started realising how damaging it all was for me. i loved him so much and i fucking hate saying it because logically i shouldnt have. its. a lot and its so complicated and nobody but me ever, ever saw it because he masked it around other people or would just dm me instead of saying anything out loud, and i could only tell people very nervously in private and i never had a way of proving it.

i think the hardest part is that my aocial circle now is almost exactly the same as it was when he was in it. all of our friends mourned that loss just the same. some of them know about the abuse now, but most of them don't, and the grief they will occasionally express (though never directly around me, which i appreciate) is so plain and easily explained and i almost feel jealous that i can't grieve the way they can. without any of the complicating factors. and that sounds so horrible but i wish my feelings about him were just SIMPLE.

i have a floater in my left eye. when i was with him, i developed stress stims. i would bash my hand against my head or bash my head against the corner of my desk. floaters are caused by head trauma. im consistently reminded of what that time was like every time i move my left eye in the right lighting.

i remember one particularly bad night where i cried for four hours straight because he just refused to talk to me like a normal person, blamed me for everything that was happening between us and told me to leave him alone and never speak to him again. i knew if i agreed to that he would kill himself as soon as he could. i knew i was the only thing keeping him alive, and that he resented me for that. i used to get acne on my nose and sleeve burns on my eyelids from crying so often and for so long each time.

it was fucking horrendous and i can't even vent to anyone because most of them grieved his death too. we don't even say his name - if he comes up it's always "you know" or "someone else, you know who i mean". so i think i... should really do a proper therapist hunt.

#personal #delete later just need to. put my thoughts down rn

[waitimcomingtoo]

touch

chapter four: closure

Synopsis: you love him but you can never touch him

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Series Masterlist and Regular Masterlist

“Op. Timers up.”

You rolled off of Peter and reached for your phone to turn your alarm off, sighing sadly as you did.

“I hate that sound.” Peter groaned as he rolled onto his back. “That sound should be illegal.”

“Well if you feel that strongly about it, you can gather a group of strong willed individuals and start a petition.” You teased him as you sat up.

“Are you sure that was 20 minutes? That went by really fast.” He pouted as he rolled onto his side. He lazily played with your fingers as he looked up at you with puppy dog eyes. You sighed deeply, eyes filling with regret as you pulled your hand away.

“Pete.” You said apologetically. “It was 20 minutes. No more touching.”

Peter nodded in understanding and withdrew his hand, letting it rest on his chest instead.

“It’s not long enough.” He mumbled as he stared out the window. “No amount of time is long enough.”

“I know.” You agreed with him. “But it’s better than how we used to be. At least we get to touch now.”

“For less than half an hour a day.” He grumbled as he sat up, his mood entirely altered now.

“It’s for the best. You don’t even know what I’d do to you if I could touch you all day.” You smiled coyly, trying it bring him back to a good mood as you stood up on your knees and crawled towards him. Peter perked up with a curious gaze as he turned his body to face you.

“What would you do?” He cocked an eyebrow as he leaned towards you but didn’t make contact.

“I’d tell you, but you wouldn’t be able to handle it.” You teased him before swiftly pulling away. Peter groaned and threw a pillow at you before his mood shifted.

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.” Peter said apologetically as his eyes softened. “This is so much better than what we were doing before. I would prefer if I had all the time in the world to touch you, but I’ll take my 20 minutes. I’m lucky I get even that.”

You bit your bottom lip and checked your phone, seeing that it was two minutes past your allotted 20 minutes.

“We still have a minute.” You lied, focusing all your self control on not hurting him as you leaned in to kiss him. Peter eagerly kissed you back, rising on his knees to hold you closer to him.

“I love you so much.” He whispered against your lips. “I’m never going back to what we did before.”

“Me either.” You smiled fondly at him as you stroked his face with your thumbs. “Okay, times really up now. No more touching.”

Peter pouted and let go of you before flopping on the bed with a huff.

“No pouting either.” You teased him as you rubbed your aching temples.

“It would be a lot easier to stop touching you if you weren’t so pretty.” Peter chuckled as he watched you get dressed.

“Sorry about that. It’s all my fault.” You sighed dramatically as you pulled your shirt over your head.

“It is.” He nodded repeatedly. “It’s unbearable trying to resist kissing you every time you walk into a room.”

“I know the feeling.” You told him as you looked at him through the mirror on his dresser.

“Don’t look at me like that, peaches.” He warned. “The 20 minutes are up.”

“I know.” You smiled a little sadly. “I’m just looking.”

“I have to get to training.” Peter sighed as he checked his phone. “I’ll see you after, okay?”

“I’ll see you later, lover.” You blew him a kiss. He caught it, despite how corny it was, and held it against his heart.

“You make it so hard to leave.” He whined as he walked up to you, leaning his hands on either side of you but never touching you.

“Go. You don’t want to be late.” You reminded him playfully. “I’ll see you soon.”

“All right.” He jutted his bottom lip out. “Bye.”

As soon as Peter left the room, you ran to the connected bathroom and threw up in the toilet. You brushed your teeth with the toothbrush he had left there before sliding against the wall and putting your head in your hands. Your brain was pounding in your head, as if it had a heartbeat of its own. You rubbed your temples as hot tears of anguish rolled down your face, the pain worsening before going away.

~

“What’s wrong?” Bruce asked once he noticed the pained look on your face in the living room.

“Nothing.” You shook your head as you sighed. “I just have a headache.”

“Again?” Bruce began to worry. “You’ve been complaining of one all week.”

“Yeah. I don’t know, it’s probably just a cold.” You lied as you adverted your eyes. Bruce didn’t buy into your lies and pressed a hand against your forehead. You immediately jumped back, fearful that you’d hurt him.

“Y/n, you’re burning up.” He really began to worry now.

“Careful, Br. Banner. It’s not safe for you to touch me.” You reminded him as you kept your distance.

“Could I run some labs?”

“Is that necessary?” You asked. “It’s just a headache.”

“You’ve only been using the stun gun once a week right? Like I told you?” He asked making you stop in your tracks.

“Yeah.” You lied. “Just once a week.”

“Alright, good.” He sighed in relief. “I made it with gamma radiation, you know. Too much of that will kill you.”

“Kill me how?” You wondered as your mouth went dry.

“Well, you were born with your powers.” He explained. “Your abilities are a part of your nervous system. Temporarily taking your powers away for 20 minutes holds up with nervous system. Too much radiation will slowly weaken you until you die.”

“Oh.” You nodded slowly. “I see.”

“But once a week is fine.” He assured you. “That shouldn’t do too much damage. It might give you a headache though. Would you mind if I ran some labs?”

“Sure. Whatever you need.” You said quietly as a panic set it. You used the stun gun 7 days a week and you we’re finally feeling the consequences.

“Let’s go.” Bruce escorted you to the lab.

An hour later, you left the lab with an anxious feeling in your tummy. You ran into Peter in the hallway and plastered a fake smile on so he wouldn’t worry.

“There you are.” Peter smiled as he approached you. “I burnt my hand on the oven again.”

“You did?” You worried as you tan to him. “Let me see.”

You took Peters hand in yours and squeezed it but didn’t feel his pain transfer to you.

“That’s weird.” You blinked in confusion. “I don’t feel anything.”

“Hm.” Peter fought a smile. “Weird.”

“You’re such a liar.” You playfully hit him when you realized his trick. “You didn’t burn your hand.”

“No. I just wanted to hold my girlfriends hand. I’m sorry.” He looked at you with his puppy dog eyes, still holding your hand.

“I forgive you but don’t do it again. This isn’t a game, Peter. I could seriously hurt you.” You reminded him. You began to worry he was gonna make a habit out of tricking you to touch him. You were feeling horribly sick, and you were a fast healer. You had no idea what would happen to Peter if you accidentally transferred your pain to him.

“I know.” Peter smiled apologetically. “I think I have a paper cut, though.”

“Where?” You raised an eyebrow, not believing him.

“My lips.” He said sheepishly.

“Uh Uh.” You shook your head teasingly. “Not fooling me, Parker.”

“I thought that would work.” He whined. “Fuck me.”

“Aw, I so would but we already had our 20 minutes today.” You teased him, making his jaw drop.

“That is not what I meant and you know it.” He narrowed his eyes at you. Before you could respond, you heard your name called from behind you.

“Y/n.”

You turned around, your smile immediately fading when you saw Bruce standing there with a frown.

“I’ll catch up with you.” You told Peter before jogging over to Bruce.

“Hi Dr. Banner.” You smiled weakly. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m so sorry.” Bruce whispered, looking incredibly guilty as he held your lab results in his hands.

“What happened?” Your mouth went dry.

“There must be something wrong with the gun. I must’ve calibrated it to disperse more gamma radiation than I intended. Your whole body is full of it. There should not be this much. I don’t know how this happened.” He apologized as a sick feeling settled in your tummy.

“Dr. Banner, it’s okay.” You assured him. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is. I must’ve gotten the calculations wrong or left out a variable or-“

“I use it everyday.” You blurted, cutting him off. Bruce’s face twisted in confusion as he processed what you said.

“What?”

“The stun gun. I use it everyday so I can touch Peter.” Tears came to your eyes as your confession came out. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine.”

“Y/n, your body needs at least a week to recover from a blast of gamma radiation.” Bruce told you. “That’s why I told you to only use it once a week. Your body can’t heal in just a day, even with your enhanced abilities. Every time you use the gun, you make yourself sicker. Your ability to heal quickly is the only thing keeping you alive right now.”

Your jaw locked in fear as the tears fell down your cheeks. You didn’t say anything as you sucked in a shark breath.

“Hey, it’s all right.” Bruce rubbed your shoulder. “My body is full of it too.”

“I’m so sorry. You told me it was dangerous and I did it anyway. I’m so stupid.” You whimpered as you wiped your face on the back of your hands.

“You’re not stupid. I’ve been here before.” Bruce sighed. “I pushed people away, even when I really loved them, because I was scared of hurting them. You’re not a monster for wanting to be loved.”

“Am I gonna die?” You whispered.

“I don’t know.” Bruce answered honestly. “How long have you been doing this?”

“Everyday for the last three months.”

“You should stop for at least 6 months then, and we’ll reassess then.” Bruce advised. You felt the air get knocked out of your chest when Bruce told you you wouldn’t be able to touch Peter again for 6 months.

“Dr. Banner, I can’t go back to how I was before.” You protested. “I can’t do that to Peter.”

“The only other option is poisoning yourself with the radiation until you die. I think Peter will understand.” Bruce told you.

“What about me?” You shrugged sadly. “What if I don’t understand?”

“Go talk to him.” Bruce advised. “Just have a calm, adult conversation.”

“Okay. Calm and adult.” You nodded. “I will.”

You immediately went to Peter’s room and knocked on his door, waiting to enter until he told you to.”

“Hey, peaches.” Peter smiled brightly as you shut the door behind you. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Peter we have to break up.” You blurted out, making Peter sit up and go to the edge of his bed. So much for your calm and adult conversation.

“What?” Peter’s face fell at your words.

“I…I did something really bad.” You shook your hands as you began to panic. You paces around his room as the guilt and anxiety ate away at you.

“Peaches, it’s okay. Talk to me.” Peter reached out to touch you but quickly withdrew his hands when he remembered he couldn’t.

“I lied to you.” You confessed as tears came to your eyes.

“About what?” Peter asked slowly as you stopped pacing.

“Dr. Banner told me I could only use the stun gun once a week. I knew it was dangerous to use everyday but I did it anyway and it’s killing me.”

“Killing you?” Peter’s eyes darkened.

“The radiation. Dr. Banner said if I keep using it, it’ll kill me. I’m so sorry.” You began to cry, wishing more than anything that you could reach out and touch him.

“Then we just won’t use it anymore, peaches.” Peter said calmly. “Not if it’s killing you.”

“But we can’t use it for at least 6 months.” You cried. “You said so yourself, you hated the way we were before. You don’t want to go back. So I’m letting you go. I’m not gonna make you stay in this relationship if we can’t touch each other.”

“Peaches, I don’t love you because I get to touch you.” Peter chuckled softly. “And don’t get me wrong, I love getting to kiss you and hold you, but just being with you is my favorite part. I can go another 6 months without touching you if it means you’re still my girlfriend.”

“But…but you said you’d never go back.” You calmed down long enough to realize Peter wasn’t mad.

“I’d never go back to us being just friends. I can go back to us not touching if it keeps you safe. That’s all that matters to me.” Peter promised you.

“Really?” You asked hopefully.

“Really.” He nodded. “I love you in any way I can have you.”

“I love you too.” You smiled gratefully at him before pulling him into a kiss. In the heat of the moment, you didn’t think about the pain you were holding inside and kissed him deeply. Peter kissed you back for just a moment before you heard a small gasp emit from the back of his throat. You felt him slid off your lips and opened your eyes to see him collapsed on the floor.

“Peter?” You asked as you knelt down beside him. You rolled him over and let out a gasp when you saw how pale he was.

“Peter?!” You shook him aggressively. “Peter?!”

When Peter didn’t respond, you let out a guttural scream for help.

“Dr. Banner!”

Bruce rushed into the room when he heard your scream, stopping shortly when he saw Peter.

“What happened?” He asked as he knelt down beside you.

“No no no the radiation.” You cried as you shook Peter. “I just gave him the radiation.”

“Okay, calm down. Let me get him to the lab.” Bruce instructed as he grabbed Peters feet. You hooked your arms under Peter and helped Bruce carry him to the lab. You laid him on the table and stood anxiously as Bruce hooked Peter up to a monitor.

“You said the only thing keeping me alive was my healing abilities.” You worried as you chewed on your nails. “He doesn’t have that.”

“But he has something like it.” Bruce reminded you. “He’s still enhanced. He might not die from this.”

“Might?” You whispered at the little hope he was able to offer you. Bruce gave you an apologetic look as he continued to work on Peter. You felt useless as you stared at Peter’s lifeless body until you got an idea.

“Wait.” You spoke up. “Let me take his pain. I’ve done it before.”

Bruce was quiet for a minute as he stared at Peter’s monitor.

“He’s not in pain.” He said quietly.

“He has to be. He has to be if I was.” You reasoned.

“Y/n, Peter isn’t in any pain.” Bruce repeated. You realized he had stopped working on Peter and felt a sinking feeling in your tummy.

“Why?”

Bruce looked away from the monitor and took his glasses off for full dramatic effects.

“Because he’s dead.”

“What?” You shrieked as all the color left your face.

“I’m kidding. Was that a bad joke?” Bruce grimaced as you gasped for air. “You can take his pain. It’s just gonna hurt a lot.”

You gave him a frustrated look before placing your hands on either sides of Peter’s face.

“Come on, Peter.” You willed him. “Come on, Spiderman.”

It took a minute, but his pain slowly drew out of his body and into yours. Your veins darkened to a jet black as the radiation seeped back into your body, making you let out a scream.

“Y/n, be careful.” Bruce warned as Peter’s vitals began to improve.

“It’s killing me.” You screamed in agony as the color began to return to his cheeks.

“Because it’s three months worth of radiation at once. You’ve been building it up.” Bruce grimaced when he saw the toll it was taking on you.

“It hurts so bad.” You cried.

“It’s almost all out.” Bruce told you. “Just hold on a little longer.”

“Dr. Banner, I need you to do something for me.” You said breathlessly, your body beginning to shut down.

“What is it?” Bruce asked.

“I need you to recalibrate the stun gun to permanently remove my powers.”

“What?” His eyes widened. “Why?”

“So nothing like this ever happens again.”

“Then you can’t be an Avenger.” Bruce protested.

“But I can be a human being.” You shouted. “I want that more. I want that most.”

“But-“

“Please.” You cried. “Just do it.”

“Okay.” Bruce agreed. “I will.”

“Thank you.” You nodded. “I’m gonna pass out now.”

“Okay.” Bruce told you, but you had already hit the floor.

~

Once Peter’s vitals were stable, Bruce transferred him to his own room. As soon as he was awake and responsive, you went to visit him.

“Hey.” You greeted Peter in a soft tone as he woke up from a nap.

“Hi peaches.” Peter lit up when you sat on his bed. “I’m surprised you came to see me. I’m…I’m really glad you did.”

“Why wouldn’t I come to see you?” You smiled teasingly

“Dr. Banner told me what happened.” Peter admitted. “I thought you were going to blame yourself for what happened and be too scared to come near me.”

“Are you scared that I’m near you?” You asked him softly as you kept your eyes down.

“No.” Peter shook his head immediately. “I want you to be near me.”

“Good. I want to be near you too.” You chuckled as you laced your fingers through his. Peter looked at your hands in happy shock before giving them a squeeze.

“You’re touching me?” He asked happily.

“After what happened, I had two options.” You explained. “I could’ve shut you out to ensure I never hurt you again, or I could make sure I never hurt anybody again.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had Dr. Banner remove my powers.” You smiled sheepishly. “I told him to take them all away, but he found a way to let me keep the healing aspect. I can still heal, but I can’t hurt.”

“You had him take away your powers?” Peter asked in shock as he sat up straighter. “Why?”

“Because human beings need to be touched.” You shrugged. “I didn’t want to live without that anymore. I didn’t want to be allotted 20 minutes a day to touch the boy I love.”

“You did this for me?” Peter asked fondly as you stroked his cheek with your thumb.

“No.” You shook your head. “I did this for me. I didn’t want to worry anymore. I wanted to be free.”

“So this means…” Peter raised an eyebrow. You nodded a little before leaning in to kiss him, feeling weightless as the fear of hurting him was long behind you.

“It means we get to do this all the time, lover.” You whispered against his lips. “Anytime we want.”

“Anytime we want?” He asked for comfirmation.

“Yup.” You popped the p for emphasis.

“In that case.” Peter raised an eyebrow. “What were you saying before about what I couldn’t handle?”

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[i-make-fun-of-spn-characters]

I feel like you've given most spn related things some lil spice but I always love the spice on this : hot spicy take on the "Dean is the most horrible character and ruins everyone's life and Sam and Cas are poor little meow meows who only do bad things sometimes because tyran Dean farted in their direction" takes that are not really only said by anti-Dean peeps ? Obsessed with that incredible thesis and would love the added spice ❤

SPICY HOT HOT GHOST PEPPERS CAROLINA REAPERS HELP I'M BURNING

I really try to respect other people’s opinions, and I believe there are a wealth of ways to interpret a story, and I think that’s a deeply beautiful thing. This applies to interpretations I don't agree with and outright dislike as well. That said, some opinions are simply and objectively bad, dishonest, and/or demonstrably false, and I truly do not believe you can sit down and honestly watch through the show with an open mind about all the characters, truly pay attention to what they do, say, and believe, and come to the conclusion that this show is about an evil manipulative abusive man terrorizing his pure and sinless brother and friend. It is an interpretation built from cherry picking facts to suit an ugly, miserable theory, making Mount Everest out of a bunch of the tiny mole hills, making the worst possible presumptions of feelings and intentions, and holding characters to completely different standards in order to neatly divide them into "abused" and "abuser" in a way that, frankly, fetishizes the abused person. I despise this interpretation of the story with every fiber of my being, and I have absolutely no respect for the opinion of anyone who peddles it, regardless of who they cast as villain/victim (because people have also done this with the others—it’s just more “popular” to do it with Dean... I mean... does anyone else remember how people were shitting on Sam after his emotional reaction in 14.12? Calling him an evil abuser? Because I do).

The thing that always gets me about this take isn't just how dishonest, unfair, mean-spirited, and compassionless it is in its treatment of Dean’s feelings, circumstances, and intentions... but how deeply reductive and offensive it is toward Sam and Castiel, sucking away their identities to turn them into effigies to mourn for their sad, Stockholm syndrome-esque attachment to their "abuser". Further, it grips the heart of the show—the relationship between Sam and Dean, and then the relationship among TFW as a whole—in a tight, uncompromising fist and pulverizes it. It literally rips out the heart of the show (the RELATIONSHIPS) and replaces it with something unprepossessing of any merit: A miserable, 15 years long story about a malicious abuser getting away with terrorizing those closest to him for his entire life, while his poor abuse victims suffer through until they die for him/happy to be reunited with him because they “don’t know any better” and never ever learned better, I guess. What a stupid, sad sack of a story.

Castiel is a thousands of years old celestial being who has literally beaten Dean into the pavement under no form of mind control, and has shown over and over again that he will do whatever the hell he wants, regardless of whatever Dean thinks about being sidelined. If he thinks whatever he is doing is in Dean's best interest, he literally does not care how Dean feels about it. He will nod and smile and then fly off and swallow thousands of souls with Dean begging him not to, shove Dean out of the way to attack the big bad, leave Dean alone in Purgatory, refuse to come out of Purgatory so he can self-flagellate, fly off with the angel tablet, help Sam with the Book of the Damned, let Lucifer possess him without anyone's knowledge or agreement, come into Dean's room under the guise of apologizing for ghosting him so that he can steal The Colt out from under his pillow and murder someone, decide not to murder that person and still prevent Sam and Dean from helping by knocking them both unconscious, get himself killed, make a deal to trade his life for Jack's and never tell anyone, hide information and worries and ignore phone calls, ghost Sam and Dean, and bicker and fight with Dean as if they are a married couple. Love sickness and feelings of worthlessness (which Cas has a wealth of reasons to feel—many of which aren’t even related to Dean but to his heavenly family) are reinterpreted as the result of some sort of constant, terrorizing emotional abuse. Power and authority that Dean does not actually have is forced into his hands by these fans. Maybe listen when Cas says, “Hey—not everything is your fault.” Maybe listen when he says “I loved the whole world because of you”, calls Dean a role model, says he enjoys their conversations, offers to die with him and dies for him multiple times. Maybe treat these feelings as genuine and valid and HIS and not as the delusions of some poor manipulated baby. 

Sam is framed this way even more often than Cas, and it's a damn shame, because what I typically see is this: Sam’s development into a mediator and peacemaker is twisted and reinterpreted as coming from a place of weakness and/or fear. Rationality, maturity, wisdom, and compassion are not the traits of a scared, powerless child. They are the traits of a mature adult, who has been beaten down by life, and fought and raged against his circumstances, and somehow come out of it with more kindness and understanding and strength instead of less. He has made his own decisions whenever it was possible, within the set of circumstances doled out to him. From telling his dad to go fuck himself and going to college, to getting back into hunting to avenge Jess (NOT because of Dean—Dean took him home without complaint at the end of the woman in white case), to continuing to hunt after their father died because he wanted to feel close to him (Dean was actually weirded out and sort of disgusted by this), raging and fighting to save Dean from his deal against Dean’s wishes, continuing to hunt and working with Ruby (directly against Dean’s dying wish), drinking demon blood, jumping in the cage, leaving hunting to go be with Amelia, coming back to hunting to save Kevin, fighting with Dean over what he had with Amelia and threatening to leave if Dean didn't shut his mouth, leaving Amelia to go back to hunting (Dean ultimately suggests he go back to her—Sam chooses to stay), trying to kill Benny, demanding to be the one to do The Trials and saying he is going to SURVIVE them—that being the ENTIRE POINT, losing that resolve in a fit of depression but choosing to drop the knife, demanding space from Dean (and being given it), fighting to save Demon Dean who didn’t want to be found or saved, using the Book of the Damned against Dean’s wishes, telling Charlie that this is what he wants—that he used to want normal but now all he wants is to hunt with Dean and that he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he can’t have that, unleashing the Darkness in his desperation to keep Dean with him and even saying, “I would do it again” in the aftermath, saving the town being destroyed by Amara, getting into The Cage with Lucifer, leading a team against the British Men of Letters, nurturing Jack, punching Dean in the face when he was going to sacrifice himself, leading more hunters, wielding a gun against Chuck... and that’s just some highlights. Sam Fucking Winchester does not need your bullshit about him being some sad, scared, helpless baby lorded over by mean old Dean who has never let him do anything he wants. 

Yes, in the text itself, there is jealousy and resentment at times, and there is legitimate and righteous anger on Sam’s part on a few occasions. There is blame cast on Dean by Sam for some of these choices/circumstances. Some of those moments where Dean is blamed are legitimate, and some of them... frankly, are not. Within the framework of the fucked up dynamics of the way they were raised, Sam and some fans bristle when they feel Dean is casting himself as the parent he is not, but Sam also has been guilty in the past of trying to reframe himself as Dean’s child when things got tough. Neither of them is responsible for the origin of that dynamic, but they BOTH have responsibility to change it, and they both, ultimately, succeed in doing so. For Sam, his part comes in recognizing and learning to fully own his own choices. Recognizing that he is not a child, and he is certainly not Dean’s child, and it isn’t just “Mummy—loosen the grip”, but Sam has to too—not claim independence only to blame Dean for his choices when his own decisions have an ultimate outcome he is unhappy with. That is a legitimate arc that Sam goes through imo, but he comes out the other side of it, and he and Dean relate to each other much better as peers from then on—and I’d like to note that throughout the entire series, when they don’t relate as perfect peers and teammates, it isn’t always Dean “bossing Sam around”, but Sam also trying to sideline Dean and yes—boss him around. And when they lied and hurt each other and yes, even manipulated each other, Dean most certainly wasn't always the one doing the lying and hurting and manipulating. Always, always, ALWAYS, they both had an understandable point of view, and it was complex, and you could understand why they made the choices they did, even if you thought of those choices as being wrong ones. 

I also would like to point out (because this is basically what I see all of the time) that Dean being hurt by someone or simply voicing his feelings or opinion is in no way abusive or manipulative. Dean is certainly charismatic and loved and his returning love and respect is often deeply desired, but he is not an actual siren, who bends people to his will simply by speaking or being. People are, in fact, able to tell him “no”, and frequently FREQUENTLY do. Further more, no one is owed his affection, his unwavering loyalty, or his trust. He has a right to his boundaries, regardless of if it makes some poor sad sap feel deprived of the “wellspring of coveted love” while he works through things. He can be hurt and angry, and he can wear his heart on his sleeve at times, and he can be flawed, and broken. [Insert Castiel's speech from 15.18 here]. So can Sam. So can Cas. None of them are manipulating each other by virtue of getting angry, feeling hurt, being traumatized, needing space, or having differing opinions or feelings. Sam didn’t punch Dean in the face in 14.12 because he's a cruel, manipulative abuser trying to force Dean under his thumb. He didn’t work behind Dean’s back with Ruby, insist on doing The Trials, beg Dean to use Doc Benton’s alchemy, use the Book of the Damned to cure Dean, pump him full of blood to cure him of being a demon despite the fact that it might kill him, or scream at him and fight him for wanting to get in the Ma’lak box because he “doesn’t respect his autonomy” and “wants to control him” and “doesn’t respect his right to his own body”. He did it because he loves him desperately, and Dean could stand to fucking hate himself less, and he fiercely wanted Dean to live even when Dean didn’t want to or couldn’t picture what that could be like. He didn’t force Dean to do anything simply by opening his mouth to voice disagreement and swaying Dean when he did so. Now reverse that. 

Cas didn't beat Dean into the ground in season 5 because he wanted to terrorize him into never going against Castiel ever again. He didn’t go behind his back dozens of times, sideline him, go MIA, all because he wanted to manipulate and control Dean and punish him. He didn’t throw sassy remarks at him to shatter his self-esteem. Now reverse that. 

*Breathes*

Anyway, fuck "X is abusive” interpretations. 

#being serious for 5 seconds #RANTING RANTING RANTING #spicy spicy ghost pepper extract #mail

[rawliverandcigarettes]

Hi ! How do you envision Aria in Halfway Home ? I do believe you have mentioned she would be involved.

Hello, and thank you for the kind ask, it is absolutely helpful ;_;

So Aria. Aria's a complicated beast. I have a lot of thoughts about her. I kind of always enjoyed her potential more than her execution, as I've been known to have a soft spot for, what I call, Girlbosses Fucking Up. As in: women driven by scary, unhinged ambition that ends up destroying everything including themselves, and Aria could have fitted that description pretty well, or at least its first part (if there had been a proper attempt at character examination and development past her getting suddenly horny for Shepard and fawning over how much cooler and Dangerous than her they actually are or something idk).

So first, about my thoughts on Aria T'loak in canon:

I think Aria embodies a lot of Mass Effect's guilty-pleasure relationship to edge, and I completely believe she's been written first and foremost to be 1) cool, and 2) a sexual fantasy. The problem with that posture is that... basically any serious attempt at unpacking her politics risk ruining her pseudo-dominatrix vibes. So as a result, we get the most unquestioned, unashamed libertarian figure of the games, blaring that she's justified in her power position because she's the strongest, that because she's the strongest she's justified in commiting any kind of violence to hoard what she considers to be hers, and the fact she's basically an absolute despot is seen as something to be admired and even envied (no red tapes, no Council, nobody to answer to but herself and her whims).

To be noted: she's criticized in the vaguest way possible in the Omega DLC, but it has way more to do with the interpersonal, Nyreen and then a dominance struggle with Shepard, than with any of her concrete politics (and the dominance struggle is very... it's very much about "conquering" her and shoving yet another power fantasy down Shepard's throat --either by taming her fire or sharing it, and being called The Most Special Of All And I Never Met Anyone Like You Wooow You're Making Me So Hot And Bothered, and I'd argue it's still more about stroking the player's, hm, ego than about Aria herself). The "nooo don't kill civilians because surely there are any trace of civilians that aren't slavers, gang members or mercenaries left after like, two coups and a half" has nothing to say about the value of the life of said "civilians" despite their darkness, nothing to say about Aria's right to wage life and death over them. Even Nyreen's criticisms of Aria are... very un-Omegan. They still wager on Omega civilians being poor, unprepared babies, and to me it just doesn't ring true or meaningful in the slightest. But I made no effort ever hiding how much I don't vibe with this DLC, and its refusal to engage with Omega's themes to preserve Aria's sex appeal is one of the biggest culprits to me.

I also whinge about Aria in my critic of Mass Effect: Retribution, where I discover that she is actually quite dumb, and solves her problems with temper tantrums and half-assed decisions the narrative desesperatly tries to justify instead of being the savvy figure Mass Effect 2 tries to sell us (also her daughter is treated like a sexpot who immediately dies an awful, voyeuristic death and I doooon't love that choice, even if it's, once again, very telling on the kind of character Aria's supposed to be).

So now, I will stop whingeing about canon and talk about how I tried to reinterpret Aria T'loak in Halfway Home.

So Aria in HH is... kind of an awful, complicated person. I completely leaned in that Girlboss Fucking Up direction because nobody can stop me to explore some of the absurd tragedy behind her struggle for power. She is libertarian to a fault, at once believing in the importance of daring to bite what you can off a seemingly unchangeable and incredibly cruel social system, while failing to acknowledge that she's a central actor of said system, maintaining its alchemy with an iron fist with little concern for those who have to pay the price. While not nearly as conservative as them (socially, economically she's almost worse), I took inspiration from figures like Ayn Rand and Margaret Thatcher to flesh her out, especially in the way she turns against her own kind to keep her head out of the water (I mean at once asaris and sex workers, as I kept her backstory infiltrating Omega's ecosystem as an Afterlife dancer first). But by having this background, to garner respect, she has to be ruthless and consistently brilliant so she doesn't slip, because if she does... Well the fall will be rather brutal. She's acutely aware of the necessity of maintaining her prestige and her innaccessibility, while keeping herself desirable (as a potential ally and as an asari), because everyone wants to either kill her, be her or have her, and this is at once the basis of her power and an incredibly lonely and vulnerable position to have to voluntarily maintain yourself in.

Aria in Halfway Home does fucked up shit, or willingly allows or facilitates fucked up shit to maintain herself afloat (especially in her power plays with the Council, batarians and Cerberus). But she's been doing this dangerous dance for centuries, and she's starting to feel alienated from herself, from anticipating and catering to all sides at once. She also tends to keep opportunities open and let people live if they can be useful (à la Patriarch) rather than kill them, even if she cultivates her vicious reputation to prevent coups against her --basically keeping escape routes open as much as she can. As far as attitude goes, she follows more of her sarcastic/jaded side that is sometimes apparent in canon, and it's becoming clear how tired she is, how every single one of her desires have melted into what she needs to do to stay in power. She's the Pirate Queen, and in more ways than one the world is at her feet, yet everything she does is calculated to keep herself alive, at all time. And she can't stop now, because she's addicted to Omega and what it did to her, and if she stops she will be torn apart by everyone pretending to be on her side. In a way she's a prisonner of her own power, while also maintaining everyone else in the cell with her by force and pretending that... there is no alternative, if you can forgive my wording.

So yeah. Sarcastic, tired, brilliant, cynical. That's my Aria. She's the absolute worst, and yet she's a little tragic too. But by the end of the story, Shlee doesn't care about that part at all and will not shut the fuck up about how she should be deposed and is, in fact, the absolute worst, which, yeah, great thing to scream around Shlee, very smart.

#aria t'loak #omega dlc #halfway home #shlee #asks #fanfiction #mass effect critical

[trashcatsnark]

Okay, so I'm on some angst ridden train at the moment and imma just place this little headcanon out there.

So after everything that went down with the relic, both Johnny and V makes it out alive (and V has also managed to solve the whole dying problem).

But I imagine both of them, but in the following example; mainly Johnny, still having some remaining "paranoia" from what went down with everything.

Johnny, for example, would definitely get some sort of anxiety/anxiety attack every time V coughed. He expects to see blood run down her chin or covering her hand when she pulls it away after an coughing attack. Only to realize that she swallowed something wrong.

If she ever falls sick and gets dizzy, his train of thoughts start going in the 'It must have something to do with the chip, what if she's still dying, maybe it's not as good as we thought' direction.

Basically, Johnny experiencing some form of "light PTSD" from all the sickness and relic malfunctions that V had to suffer through for weeks, maybe even months on end, all because of him.

Because it's just like u said in a previous post, Johnny feels incredible guilty that he somehow got away from everything without any harm coming to him while V was slowly dying and suffering from immense pain during the whole ordeal.

The fact that V can still catch normal sicknesses (such as colds, fevers, the flu and other things) just doesn't hit him. He just immediately jumps to the conclusion that it's all his fault, because he still believes that he doesn't deserve this second chance at life that he somehow managed to get, and he definitely thinks that something bad will happen to him, or someone he cares for (V) just so it can be stripped away from him just when he's gotten the taste of how good it could be.

Ahhhh, you hurt me sooooo, but I do absolutely fucking agree. He’s so used to that stress, that fear, this time limit on them. That the idea that yes, all is good and he can truly just breathe and be. It manifests a lot in him assuming the worst anytime V is sick, did the cure not work? Is their body starting to reject them? Is all of this going to be for nothing? Are they gonna die? After all of this is he still gonna lose them? Is he still ultimately going to be the reason they die? And V’s like, I have a cold...breathe. 

I also feel like Johnny’s worry over V’s safety, life, and fear of something killing them would make him become....less of a fan of their profession. Its bad enough seeing them always injured in some way, small or big, because thats the job. Seeing them come home with fresh bruises, scars, getting the call that they had to make a quick stop at Vik’s because they caught a bullet in the side. Nothing major. And he knows they can handle themselves, but god when the next day when they move stiffer, more awkward, it reminds him of when the relic malfunctions would leave them exhausted and sore. 

I imagine the worst would be if V ever got a nosebleed, because that was the big indicator in Embers that V was at the end of it, it was make or break, and precipitated the worse ever attack. So, he sees that and loses himself before he knows it, grabbing at V and its like they’re right back at Embers, him yelling about how they gotta get to mikoshi, there’s no time, they gotta go. And V has to gently calm him, bring him down, remind him that mikoshi is already gone. They did it, they smashed it, V is safe, he’s safe, they’re here and they’re okay. 

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #johnny silverhand #silverv #all aboard the angst train choo choo! #Anonymous

[romaxnogersav]

Sassy girl, special girl

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: angst, some cursing, violence, injury, fluff

Word count: 4510

Summary: You and Steve are out on a mission that turns wary really fast. It takes you getting injured for Steve to finally take a step forward and say how he feels.

Prompt: “for once…..I was right”

Tags: @et-lesailes​ and thank you for your advice <3

A/N: Well this is my first time writing something for Tumblr, so I really hope it’s good. I started my first fic (one shot) off of a prompt, but I kind of ignored it at some point and started writing freely out of inspiration and this came to life. It still follows the prompt though so I really hope it turned out good because I feel really insecure about my writing. Well, enjoy <3

also the gif isn’t mine!

It was you and Steve this time. It was only a small mission, nothing too hard to deal with. Get in, get the information, get out. Easy as ever, or so you thought.

Not even five minutes after getting into the building things had gone to shit.

Steve had had a bad feeling about this ever since you had gotten to Cuba where a lone Hydra facility was located.

He wanted to call off the mission, or at least get backup, he wanted to call Bucky or Natasha and get a team here before going in, but you had stopped him.

“We’ve got this, just like every other time” you had said with a smile, putting your suit on, zipping the front.

Steve had shaken his head, but dropped the subject, yet you suspected he was onto something, you wouldn’t put it past him.

Now here you were, surrounded by Hydra agents, trying to fight your way through over a dozen of them with a gun, hand to hand combat and a very angry looking super soldier by your side.

He sent you a glare, seemingly more angry with you than the enemy, then took a fighting stance, ready to flung at the first person that went for him.

“Okay, okay, I get it Captain Angry, it’s my fault, can you channel that anger toward the enemy and not me?” You asked tightly, dodging a punch headed for your face.

Steve and you had never been close, you didn’t dislike or hate each other per se, but you could never seem to see eye to eye on things.

Ever since you joined the Avengers over a year and a half ago, you were in a bickering relationship with the team’s leader. It was mostly for fun on your part but you could feel that Steve didn’t appreciate it that much, but he would mostly brush it off, or strike back for the fun of it.

You were also a bit more reckless for his liking, you weren’t one to keep your mouth shut and you never backed down from anything, especially Steve Rogers.

It was kind of hilarious seeing him all angry at you at times, he’d get this little crease right between his brows that would also furrow in frustration, his mouth would get in a full straight line, and his cheeks would reddened from the fuming of his dislike towards something you did or say.

Granted, you were a good damn team when it came to getting the job done. Steve partnered well with everyone as it seems, and you thought you’d be the exception at first, but fate had other plans.

You partnered incredibly well on the field, it was easy to move around one another and read what the other person was about to do.

You knew all of Steve’s moves before he even made them, and the same counted for him. You could work with one another with ease and always seemed to find a way to silently communicate on working the right plan whatever the case scenario.

That’s why maybe Steve was one of your favorites to do missions with. Job got done fast, there wasn’t much talk needed and you never had to worry about watching your back, because he was the one doing it for you most of the time.

It’s wasn’t like you hated doing missions with Nat or even Tony, but it was easier with Steve in some kind of way that was hard for you to express. He knew your body language, to put it simply.

He knew what your mind was working on long before you even went through with what you had in mind, it was just easy.

It didn’t help that the man was as built as a fucking tree if you were honest with yourself. You had gotten a glimpse or two of what goes under that suit, and boy was it something worth laying your eyes on.

You also never allowed yourself to think about Steve in that way, or anyone else on the team for that matter. He was a great partner on missions, and he was funny to bicker around with, and he was also maybe a friend, but that’s all, and you were totally okay with that.

Sure you’ve had an innocent little thought here and there, but you had given up on relationships long ago, so everything you might have felt was long gone the same moment it had come.

Everything you did was either on a strictly professional level, or as one friend to another, if you were even friends to begin with.

When you looked back at Steve, he was handling five agents at once. You on your end were up against three. There were more coming, and the wheels started turning in your head.

“They know we are here.” you yelled to Steve, which made him turn your way and give you a look before he dodged a knee headed for his abdomen and used his elbow to knock out one of the agents.

“Yeah I can see that” he remarked, he swung his shield and hit an agent square in the face.

You swung your fist in one of the agent’s gut, trying to shake another one off your left side. When the first one hugged his middle in pain, you hit him in the head with the back of your gun, successfully knocking him out.

“Save your damn snarky remarks Rogers” you breathed out, finally getting a clear shot at one of the agents coming, and pulling the trigger, the bullet piercing right through his middle.

You were sure Steve was giving the back of your head a glare from across the room, but you didn’t give one damn.

More agents were making their way over, you were able to count seven or eight from your place, but you knew there were probably more.

You heard the vibranium of Steve’s shield clank against something, and you turned to see one of the agents with a taser in their hand, almost getting Steve in the chest.

Five agents surrounded you now, two in front, one behind and one on each side of you.

This mission was turning into one big shit show really fast, faster for your liking.

A part of you felt more than guilty now, because of what you told Steve. You were really starting to regret not listening to him now.

The trust that he had in you might slowly peel away after all that had happened ever since you had gotten in the premises.

Suddenly a hand wrapped around your middle, holding onto you with force. You tried to fight your way out of the grip on your middle, unsuccessfully. When another agent knocked the air out of you with a kick to the stomach you almost dropped your gun. Another kick landed on your wrist, this time really knocking it out of your grip.

Another hand fisted your hair, your head leaning back, a grunt escaping your throat. Steve turned your way at the sound, eyeing you with an expression you couldn’t really read.

He straightened his posture, every agent around him long forgotten, his eyes focusing on you.

He sat like that for just a second before he tightened his shield and spoke.

“Let her go” he said through his teeth, making you lift a brow his way.

“Put the shield down” the agent holding your hair said, pulling your head back even more, making you flinch in pain.

Something cold pressed against the back of your head, the barrel of a gun if you had to guess.

Steve’s eyes hardened even more, his jaw clenching violently, his lips pressed in a tight flat line.

It wasn’t unusual for Steve to act like this when one of his teammates was caught in a hold, he got defensive and every plan of getting them out was swirling in his head. His mind worked fast forming a plan of attack in a way that would allow his partner to get out and carry on with the mission.

However, you had never seen him like this, he looked about ready to launch forward and kill every agent that had a hand on you in an instant. He almost looked like a wild animal set free from his cage.

His eyes seemed almost blank.

The barrel pressed harder against your head and your hair was yanked back again. Your feet twitched for just a second and so did Steve’s hands.

You weren’t afraid, not of the gun, not of the situation, and not of death. Risks came with the job, and it was a thing you’ve gotten over with a long time ago. You knew Steve would do what’s necessary, so you weren’t scared of how things would play out.

You felt unsettled, because this wasn’t the scenario you pictured yourself giving your live in, but you quickly banished those thoughts.

Steve’s got this.

You repeated that over and over again as you watched the super soldier weight down his options.

You saw him tighten his hold on the shield even more as he looked up at you.

“Let her go, final warning” the words left his mouth in a slow growl. His lips twitched, as if trying to maintain its position.

“Put the shield down, final warning” the man holding your hair back growled back at Steve with force.

“Very well then” Steve straightened himself even more, head held high when his eyes locked with yours. You send him a questioning look as you saw him ease back a bit.

“I hope you remember that night in Malta” he said to you and for a single moment you thought that he must be kidding. You were literally at gun point, with the end of the barrel pressed in your hair and he was hoping that you remembered something that didn’t even happen, but then your mind caught up with it.

Ever since being partnered, both you and Steve found it necessary to have some kind of code to communicate with when you were send out on a mission together.

You had a lot of different types of codes for different occasions, words or sentences.

This particular one came to you after a mission similar to this when you were captured for a couple of days.

Steve had been able to send a distress signal just before you got captured. A rescue team consisting of Sam, Clint and Natasha had come to your rescue, but due to being moved out of the location it had taken them a few days to find you.

You were being separated, and repeatedly beaten so you had no idea if someone was even coming to rescue you, but when the door cracked open, and Clint waltzed in with Natasha on watch and Sam supporting Steve’s weight against the wall outside, you knew that Steve was the one that had saved you both.

You had never been to Malta, but Malta used in a sentence meant that there was someone on the way to you. The full sentence that Steve had just used meant that backup was already here and ready to get in on Steve’s command.

You forced yourself to calm down, pulling a light smile on.

“Yeah, I do” you breathed out with ease, and a smirk started forming on Steve’s lips.

“Good, because I do too”

At that exact same moment, a bullet flew through the window behind Steve, shattering it to pieces, and shooting the man fisting your hair, right between the eyes.

Natasha and Sam emerged from down the hall, Natasha with her widow’s bites charged, and Sam with a gun aimed forward.

You kicked back, releasing from the strong hold on your middle. Turning around you aimed a punch at the agent and struck him in the face. He lost his balance, taking a few steps back, falling to the floor. Two others launched at you with force.

A couple of seconds later another set of footsteps was heard, making you turn back for just a moment to spot Bucky making his way over.

“I didn’t miss the party, did I?” He remarked, landing a punch with his metal arm at a nearby agent’s jaw.

“Right on time, Sergeant” you teased and turned to continue on putting down the enemy.

You were able to retrieve your gun from the ground at some point, taking three more agents down. Sam and Natasha had a handful to deal with, and so did Steve and Bucky.

There was a mere number of agents left, most of them were either dead by now, knocked out, or fled the building at one point.

Natasha had just taken down two Hydra agents, when you aimed your gun forward, ready to take down one more headed for Bucky, when a pang of pain hit just below your ribcage.

Suddenly your legs were giving up on you, your breath coming in and our slower than normal. You leaned against a wall on your left, trying your best to stay upright for just a bit longer.

You looked up in the direction of the person closest to you, a certain super soldier.

“Steve” you breathed out.

You saw him turn towards you, eyes wide, mouth slightly open in shock. Your body gave out and you felt yourself going down, but your motionless body never hit the hard floor, instead it fell right in someone’s hold. With your vision blurring out, you could make Steve’s silhouette, one hand supporting your back, the other one on your hip, slowly lowering you down.

“Hey, Y/N don’t fall asleep okay?” He said, lightly tapping your cheek. You felt pressure where the bullet had hit, Steve’s hand pressing down on the wound.

“Not on that hard floor no, only on my comfy bed” you tried to laugh, but that only made the pain worse, making you cough as well.

“Stop being sassy for once” he said looking up at Natasha that was suddenly on his side, handling him some gauze to cover your wound with.

“Friday is autopilotting the quinjet here. It’s around two minutes out” she said looking Steve and then you.

“That’s not how I imagined dying” another cough escaped your throat, eyes being more unfocused now.

“Cut the bullshit, you aren’t dying, not today, and not here” he cut you right off, as if the words scared him, as if seeing you talking like that unsettled him.

Steve had seen enough dead in his life, one more wouldn’t matter much now would it? Wrong, it would, and it would affect him too.

The truth was, Steve Rogers was a damn moron, that couldn’t save his life around you, even if he wanted to. He liked you, he liked you a lot, he trusted you, but most of all he respected you, and that was something that spoke on its own. People thought earning Captain America’s respect was hard, but no, what was harder was earning Steve Rogers’ respect, and you had that, you’ve had it since the beginning. You were something else in Steve’s book, an enigma.

You challenged him in a way no one else had, not Natasha, not Peggy, not Bucky.

There was something about the way you spoke to him, not like he was a leader, an Avenger, or a national figure, he was just…himself. You teased him about a lot of things, being Cap, being old, being grumpy, but underneath you saw Steve as a person, not as a fighter, not as a WW2 veteran, just Steve, and that meant something to him, it meant a lot to him.

He kept quiet though, having something outside of the world you were all living in felt terrifying, unreal. It takes something to take that fear and make it seem real, thank God it didn’t take longer.

Steve knew that now, no more waiting, not after today.

You were in between consciousness, all you saw were shadows, then you felt yourself being lifted by someone, Steve if your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you.

“Hey, hey Y/N keep your eyes open, come on just a bit more” he urged you, but you couldn’t, everything felt light, except your eyelids.

“M'tired” you barely mumbled but Steve was still able to pick it up.

“I know pretty girl, I know, just don’t close your eyes m'okay?” He cooed to you, and if your mind was working properly you might have made some witty remark about being called pretty, or send your mind wonder for a second but you couldn’t. You were out of it.

“Can’t…” you mumbled before you lost consciousness in Steve’s arms.

 —–

Steve was sat outside of the medical wing in the Compound. He had taken a quick shower and changed out of his uniform and was waiting for Doctor Cho to inform him of your condition.

You were in and out of consciousness on the way to New York, and had lost some blood in the process, but other than that, they said you’d be fine once the bullet is out.

There was really no need for Steve to sit there and wait, he could go rest after the day you’ve had, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to make sure you were really okay first.

The sound of light footsteps pulled him from his thoughts and he looked up to see doctor Cho making her way over to him, hands in her medical coat pockets.

“Hey how is she?” He asked getting up from the seat he had taken a bit earlier.

“She is okay and stable. I told you there was nothing to worry about. We took the bullet out and stitched her up. We are currently making a blood transfusion, she lost quite a bit on the way and while we were operating, but other than that she is fine. She will be as good as new in the next week, maybe two. She just has to take it easy at first” she smiled and patted Steve’s arm.

He breathed a sigh in relief, he knew there was nothing serious, yet he couldn’t help but worry.

“Is she awake?” He asked motioning to the hall behind the petite woman

“Not right now, but she will be any minute now. You can go in if you want. Down the hall, turn left, third door to the right” she said and patted his arm again before excusing herself and leaving him alone.

He made his way over to the room, giving the lightest of knocks before opening the door.

You were lying on the bed, a hospital gown on and a thin blanket pulled to bellow your chest. There was a nasty gash on your arm and a light bruise on your cheek, but other than that you looked okay.

He took a chair from across the room and sat it next to the bed, seating on it.

He sat there for a couple minutes wondering what to do, what he was doing here.

Was he ready to talk to you, tell you about his little liking towards you, he wasn’t actually sure now.

He hadn’t lost you, thank God, but with the risks that come with the job, he might have, or might in the future. Would he be okay with something happening, and you not knowing that he cared? That he cared a great deal about you? He wouldn’t, because he kind of wanted you to know.

He liked to bicker with you, he liked missions with you, but you weren’t that close for some reason, and Steve wanted you to be. He wanted you to know that he didn’t dislike you because of your teasing, quite the opposite actually.

His thoughts were interrupted by your small voice filling the room.

“Hi Gramps” you said, eyes half closed.

Steve chuckled and leaned forward in his chair.

“Hey there sassy girl” he said reaching forward, taking your hand in his without a second thought.

You felt light, but you remembered everything. Cuba, the mission, being held back, the Malta code, Nat, Sam and Bucky, being shot, but you also remembered being called a certain something by the super soldier that was currently holding your right hand.

“How long was I out?” You asked unsure.

“A couple of hours”

You gave him a little squeeze that was barely there, looking down at your hand in his.

“What’s that about?” You asked tilting your head to the side, gusting to your hands.

He looked down as well, moving his thumb over the back of your hand, then looking back up at you.

“It feels right” he said matter-of-factly and shrugged his shoulders.

“Does it now?” You asked back teasingly, trying to sit up a bit. Steve got up from his chair and reached to pull the pillow up a bit, then helped you sit up.

He sat back down and nodded to answer your question, reaching for your hand again.

“How come?” You asked again, more serious this time. As far as you knew, you and Steve were barely friends, teammates who bickered a lot, and to hear that holding your hand felt right to him had you taken aback.

He sat there thinking for a second before he spoke again.

“Do you remember what you told me when you got shot?” He asked more serious than ever now, making you track your brain.

“A bit, why?”

He looked at you, an emotion evident in his eyes, one you couldn’t read that well. Sadness? Lost? Hurt?

“You told me that that’s not how you imagined you will die.” he said serious, the hurt now evident in his eyes.

You huffed a laugh, wincing at the light pain in your abdomen. Sure you said it, but you only meant it as a joke, you weren’t serious.

“God Steve, it was a joke” you said seriously.

“Not to me it wasn’t” he said right back, giving your hand another squeeze, bowing his head a bit.

“What are you implying here?” You asked annoyed, yet unsure. What was he trying to say? What did he mean? Surely it was just the leader in him that was going to lecture you about being stupid, and not careful, that death wasn’t something you joke about.

He took a deep breath and sighed, lifting his head and looking you right in the eyes again. His held sadness once more, but a hint of fear too.

“I can’t believe it took seeing you bleeding out in my arms for me to finally decide to tell you” he tilted his head to side, looking around for a second.

You were still confused, a questioning look on your face. Surely he didn’t mean what you thought he meant, right?

“Tell me what Steve?” You whispered, your voice barely audible, thank God for Steve’s super hearing otherwise he wouldn’t have heard you at all.

He took another deep breath, bringing his other hand to take yours in his too, and looked you in eyes with a wary smile.

“You are one of the most stubborn, reckless and fierce women I’ve seen in my whole life, one of the very few. You are strong and intelligent, bright and kindhearted. You aren’t afraid to stand up to anyone, you aren’t afraid to disobey my orders, putting yourself in danger for the sake of others. You are an enigma, but I guess that’s what makes you special.” He paused to take a breath, looking your face over then continuing.

“I started respecting you the moment I saw you take down that gang in Puerto Rico alongside Natasha and Clint. I trust you with my whole, and I always thought you were someone special to me, I guess I was right” he finished, cheeks red, eyes small and the look on his face made it hard for you to breath.

He looked like he had just revealed the biggest secret he has been keeping, he looked relieved. Your eyes were a bit unfocused, slightly wet, but you would blame that on the anaesthesia.

“And what are you trying to say?” You asked, voice small, your lips twitching.

“I’m saying that I like you Y/N, I really, really like you” he said, boylish smile spreading on his face, eyes lighting up.

Your own lips curled in a sheepish smile, face lighting up. Well would you look at that, Steve Rogers liked you, he really liked you.

He liked you as an individual, as someone more than a friend, partner, teammate. He liked you for what you were, and that was, that was nice. Steve liked you. Your mind continued to repeat that for a few seconds before you looked back at him, still smiling at you.

“So you like me huh?” You seemed to stick to questions, teasing him like always, just to see his reaction.

“I do pretty girl, I do like you, a lot actually” his smile only grew bigger if that was even possible. You sat up just a bit more looking him over.

“How about you show me Rogers?” you teased again, but in a serious way, waiting for him to move.

He stood from his chair, sitting beside you on the bed.

“Okay” he breathed out, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss started slow and gentle, his lips were soft against yours, a warmth radiating from them. They moved gently for a couple of moments then his tongue brushed your lower lip, and you opened your mouth to deepen the kiss. One of his hands was sat atop your right thigh, while the other made its way over to the side of your head, tilting it a bit upward, and settling it on your cheek. Your right hand was under his on your thigh, with your left on the back of his neck, lightly pulling at the hair at the base.

With your tongues in sync, mouths pressed together, hands together, holding one another, you felt content and comfortable, way more than you would have been had it been someone else you were kissing now.

With a nib at your lower lip, he pulled away, pressing three last small kisses before he pulled for good, forehead pressing against yours.

You both stood like that for a while, trying to catch your breath, relishing in each other’s warmth and comfort. Your eyes were closed, but you could feel Steve leaning back a bit, and when you opened them, he was looking at you, a content look on his face, lips swollen but still curled up in that beautiful smile you liked.

“Go on a date with me” he said to you, taking your hand from your tight again, kissing your knuckles, while the other still held your cheek.

You looked him right in the eyes, ready to melt under his gaze.

“Yeah, okay” you breathed out and leaned in pressing your lips to his once more.

#steve rogers x reader #Steve Rogers #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x you #marvel fanfiction #marvel one shot #marvel angst #marvel fluff #the avengers #tina writes

[shachihata]

ok i am *checks watch* two years late to the party but i just watched dead apple and i’m having thoughts about it everything below the cut because it’s a goddamn essaypost

ok so basically i had to rewatch fyodor’s speech scene a couple times because of how hard i was thinking about it. he implies that shibusawa’s fog separates users from their abilities and makes the abilities try to kill the user with the caveat that this is only allowed to happen if the ability user, in some form or another, has rejected their ability as a part of themselves -- the ability users that have accepted their abilities/their role in the world might be separated from their abilities, but the ability doesn’t attack them at all. it’s an ability entirely based on the individual’s personal feelings towards their ability (which is pretty ironic, considering that shibusawa is desperately searching for his own reason to live by living through other people). if there’s any conflict at all, then the fog essentially amplifies those negative feelings and turns the user against their own ability -- and, in extension, against themselves.

which... honestly makes a lot of sense! ability users are relatively rare in the world of bsd, and so it makes sense that most of them would be attacked by their own abilities because they feel ostracized from the world because they’re not truly “human” like everyone else, or something along those lines. atsushi is the most obvious example of this -- even though he manages to defeat his own ability, he’s only able to use it again once he fully accepts that the tiger isn’t a curse, it’s meant to protect him. atsushi feels guilty all the time over the orphanage director and for killing shibusawa, even though those people were literally his abusers; he has to realize that he wasn’t the one at fault for defending himself against them, in order to fully manifest his ability and kill shibusawa without feeling guilt, the way he did at the beginning of dead apple when he planned on just capturing shibusawa even though kyouka literally told him “we have to kill him that’s our mission he’s going to destroy all of yokohama if we don’t.”

we can put akutagawa and kyouka under similar analysis. akutagawa originally didn’t accept rashoumon because he felt that dazai was only ever praising rashoumon, instead of acknowledging akutagawa’s existence; once he accepts that he is the one controlling rashoumon and he doesn’t need dazai’s direct praise to know that he’s validated for existing (he visits and bows to chuuya in the epilogue, rather than seeking out dazai), rashoumon comes under his control again. kyouka didn’t accept demon snow because she hated the fact that she cared so much for demon snow as a protector/mother figure even though she blames it for killing her parents; she has to learn that demon snow isn’t her enemy, and, like atsushi, has only ever attempted to protect her. she can use demon snow to do good in the world, twisting it away from its original purpose of assassination, because it’s her power. basically, they’re all conquering their powers and accepting that even though they’re ability users, they still have the ability to be, essentially, human and pick the side that saves people -- the way dazai does at the end, seeing how “beautiful” the world is because atsushi and kyouka are alive, the way sakunosuke wanted him to. their ability is just as much of a part of themselves as any other internal conflict they have. they aren’t separate from their abilities -- they are one and the same.

which is a really interesting implication when we loop it all back around and start talking about fyodor himself. like fyodor says, he doesn’t get separated from his ability because he has accepted his ability in the first place -- “crime and punishment are close friends,” after all. fyodor knows and accepts himself as both the “crime” (being an ability user) and the “punishment” (using his ability to rid the world of ability users), which, honestly, is incredibly remniscient of raskolnikov’s entire speech about the “extraordinary man” in the original crime and punishment -- raskolnikov’s entire philosophy in the first half of the book was based around the idea that certain “extraordinary men” had the “right” to transgress against the laws of humanity/society in order to fulfill their own “higher purposes.” and i mean, that’s basically exactly what fyodor implies about himself: he thinks of himself as a god, and so even though he’s committing the ultimate sin, he’s doing it for the greater good. stupid god complex motherfucker.

when fyodor said that he was using shibusawa as entertainment, he wasn’t even joking. i genuinely don’t think that there was any greater purpose to it other than to basically prove his own points to himself. shibusawa, the conglomeration of hundreds and hundreds of abilities, becomes nothing more than an animalistic, violent, unthinking dragon -- exactly why fyodor sees abilities as the “ultimate sin,” because they do nothing more than wreak chaos and destruction in his eyes. he used shibusawa as an example of just how low ability users can sink -- completely ignoring ability users like atsushi or kyouka, who have chosen to seek the “light” of existence/life by literally just accepting their abilities as something to be used for good!

fyodor, ironically, is doing the same thing as atsushi and kyouka -- except he’s twisted it around so that he only sees his own ability as something to be used for “humanity’s good.” he sees himself as a hero and every other ability user as a villain, completely blinding himself to the fact that other ability users are also making individual choices, every day, to use their abilities for the sake of protecting other humans rather than destroying them, the way shibusawa does (because he’d lost sight of his own identity and reason to live, not because of his collection of abilities). it implies that he sees himself as a god because he’s the only one with free choice; he believes that everyone else has to bend to the “natural urges” of their abilities, impulses, and so on. it implies that the entire reason he looks down on humanity is because he doesn’t think they have free will.

...and so, as it always is with me, it comes down to “man what the hell was fyodor and nikolai’s relationship” i’m DESPERATE to know more about it. does fyodor see nikolai as a god, like him, because nikolai is so purposefully “defying god” and working towards his own death -- he, like fyodor, is both the crime and his own punishment? at the same time, though, does fyodor see nikolai as actually having free will, or just as a bird who recognizes that they’re in the cage -- while still submitting to the whims and orders of higher powers, like himself and fukuchi -- and has thus bent nikolai’s desires for his own hidden purposes? when will the sigma, nikolai, and fyodor subplot come back from the fucking war? asagiri kafka i am on my knees BEGGING to know

#ciphertexts #bungou stray dogs #fake tvtropes analysis #HAVING LOTS OF THOUGHTS RIGHT NOW. HEAD IS VERY FULL #god i could talk about this shit forever. what the fuck #dazai too... i didn't even address dazai in this goddamn essaypost like. he doesnt lose his abilities during shibusawa's fog either! #ghhh the easy answer is that dazai just nullified the fog.. but idk i feel like that's a cheap way out of character analysis #i think you could make the argument that dazai does genuinely accept himself as 'inhuman' #he's an ability user but like. ironically the OPPOSITE of every other ability user #which is exactly what he wants to be. he doesn't want to be seen as human because in his mind sakunosuke was the ultimate 'human' #dazai idolized sakunosuke's devotion so much that he's fine w/ not having morals as long as he's following sakunosuke's morals #which is interesting to think about... how he tried to give akutagawa/atsushi the same mindset. nothing matters but following your teacher #WHICH IS. an entire other essaypost on its own that im not writing in the tags

[onelungmcclung]

im sorry if you've answered this before im relatively new to the ship hehe but-- how'd mcclung fall for toye? was it in bastogne? before bastogne? in holland? in aldbourne? after the war? what were the circumstances? when did he realize it? and after he'd overcome that high of finding out he's in love, how did he deal with the aftermath once it started to settle in? hehe, i hope this week isnt as rough on you as you're anticipating. sending you much love and strength and calm vibes.

💜💜💜 

ok, firstly, I have not been asked this before; secondly, even if I had no earthly power would stop me from answering it again; and thirdly, obviously no pressure but pls consider coming off anon and being my tumblr friend  

probably everyone is new to this ship lmao

so, I started writing a (probably long) mctoye fic starting in fort bragg or aldbourne and continuing to postwar (enablers always welcome). but for the purposes of this ask, I’m mostly going off character insights revealed to me developed over the course of writing the ask him to dance universe. 

(counterpart to this ask: toye noticing/falling for mcclung)

essentially: mcclung is/would be kind of theoretically ok with the idea of falling for a guy, if it had occurred to him he might fall for anyone right now, but falling for anyone is — for the time being — a concept he has strategically compartmentalised out of his entire thought process. (please clap.)

maybe he’s relatively ok with the possibility falling for a guy because he did not really grow up with white conservatism the way most of the easy co guys did; he’s always been aware of it, and his worldview is not informed by it in the same way. his family is arrow lakes/settler and he has friends & acquaintances among the other confederated tribes. and though he doesn’t take a strong interest in domestic/international politics, he has a more critical attitude towards the us govt and its laws (he’s still quietly angry about the grand coulee dam, constructed during his childhood). he’s never really considered that he might be into men; he likes women and he’s always assumed, without thinking much about it, that he’ll get married at some point; but he’s not particularly homophobic, outwardly or inwardly.

he’s not thinking much about these things when the war comes. he gets drafted into the army, thinks “not with these fucking clowns” and besides the airborne pay is better, and volunteers as a paratrooper. he joins up with easy after he’s completed his jump training.

he is excellent at training, naturally; he’s spent days at a time alone, fishing and hunting, since he was a child. he’s an exceptional sniper and scout. he’s confident in his own abilities. some of the toccoa guys initially assume he won’t be as skilled as them because he didn’t have their training, but in fact he has a headstart on most of them; and he knows it. (if he knew it any better it would probably come off as arrogance, but he’s just very clear on what he’s good at. and if he wasn’t beforehand, the airborne has proved it, to him & everyone else.)

he recognises, of course, that toye is an excellent soldier too (not as good a shot as himself or shifty, but overall one of the best paratroopers in the company), and they’re in the same platoon, so that helps. he never really gets afraid, not while training and not in combat; he just keeps his focus and gets on with it. for the most part, he doesn’t form close friendships until they get into combat.

he has some instinct towards helping and protecting others, but once they’re in a combat zone he realises that’s going to hurt him a lot. while they’re training, he helps some of the guys make their shots by shooting the targets for them; but after they jump into normandy, he avoids befriending the replacements because so many of them are killed early on. it’s — a little — easier that way.

he and toye don’t become close friends before bastogne, but they get familiar with each other’s combat style, and they’re comfortable working together. they trust each other; they’re both good soldiers, and toye is a good nco.

and then of course in bastogne they share a foxhole, and that is (I think for all the other characters as well) an incredibly vital, pivotal relationship. he and toye rely on each other entirely; without that, they’d probably die. they learn each other backwards; there’s no possibility of pretence. he knows what toye’s flaws are (stubbornness, prickliness, a reluctance to accept help), but there’s a lot more about him that mcclung likes, trusts and admires (not that he’d say so), and he knows those things are genuine.

he does his level best to stop toye from developing trench foot when he loses his boots. sure, he pretty much calls toye an idiot for getting into this situation and for refusing to tell the medics, but he does everything he can think of. it hasn’t occurred to him that he cares deeply about toye; it just seems inevitable.

(and he tells smokey to let the medics know. he doesn’t tell toye he’s told smokey, because it’s funnier this way. like everyone else, he’s starved for entertainment.)

but toye gets hit, and they’ve spent months beside each other — sleeping in shifts, keeping each other safe, trying to keep each other warm, kvetching, arguing with each other; he’s put up with toye’s singing and toye’s put up with mcclung talking to himself. a synchronicity and interdependence has developed between them, throughout the war but particularly in bastogne, to the point where it’s almost telepathic. he doesn’t consider what a powerful kind of intimacy this is, both physical and psychological, until it’s gone.

toye gets hit, and mcclung loses him. toye gets hit, and mcclung is blindsided by the enormity of it. you can’t take anyone’s survival for granted, he’s always tried to be careful of that, but losing toye is like losing part of himself.

he’s pretty determinedly unsentimental about everything: he’s not going to fall in love with anyone while he’s fighting a war, and he’s not going to dwell on situations beyond his control, and he’s not going to let himself be distracted by worrying about someone who isn’t here anymore. or at least that’s the attitude he’s internalised, and he takes it so much for granted that he never even considers that he could have fallen for anyone: right here, right now.

but he can’t forget anything that’s happened, even if he’d like to, and there’s no other friendship that can quite replace what had developed between toye and himself. bastogne was when things were at their worst, and toye is the one with whom he survived the worst. without toye, he feels an inescapable sense of wrongness, unevenness.

he’s half aware that he misses joe. he tries not to acknowledge that to himself, because that would mean acknowledging that he may not have any chance to see joe again, that one or both of them may not survive. that’s a line of thought he keeps away from altogether; it’s there, but he won’t look at it.

he knows it’s not his fault toye was injured. sometimes it has nothing to do with being a good soldier; sometimes it’s just luck and timing; he’s nearly been hit himself. he knows that, but deep down inside he wonders if he could have saved joe, by making sure he was in their foxhole before the shelling started. he heard toye and second-guessed himself. he stayed where he was. he thinks he probably did the sensible thing. he still feels guilty about it.

(sidenote: the glaring exception to his “don’t befriend the replacements” rule ends up being babe. after toye, guarnere & compton are taken off the line, he and babe start sharing a foxhole. possibly he could have found someone else, but his protective instinct resurfaces and maybe it helps to take his mind off missing toye. it’s a friendship that comes out of grief and loss.)

he gets through foy, and haguenau, and he focuses on the situation at hand and he doesn’t think about toye.

when they reach austria, mcclung is ordered to hunt animals to feed landsberg’s prisoners, and so he sets up camp alone in the woods. it’s beautiful; it’s peaceful; it’s the first time he’s been truly alone in two years. it’s the first time his mind is able to relax, and the memories come back — prewar life, everything he’s been through since, bastogne, toye — and the thoughts of the future, what he might do after the war.

he’d like to see toye again.

he still hasn’t thought that maybe he has feelings for joe.

and then the war ends, and he has the freedom to decide what to do next. he returns to england, and then ships back to the us. the memory/loss of toye is still a weight on him, and so he tracks toye down and goes to see him. that’s the obvious, logical course of action.

it’s also making him much more nervous than it has any right to.

(for the past year and a half, he’s been compartmentalising very hard because he intuitively understood that as the best way to survive the war. he learnt it early on, and it’s hard to let go of it. he’s convinced he’s handling everything great, very matter of fact and pragmatic, getting the job done, no emotional baggage here, etc etc. this is... not 100% true, but a coping mechanism is a coping mechanism is a coping mechanism. he is doing pretty well; nobody thinks he’s not; so obviously that counts as a roaring success.

but once the war is over, the psychological walls he’s maintained throughout combat — between survival and emotion — begin gradually to disintegrate. he has to let himself become whole again, learn to navigate who he is now, accept that the war has scarred him. he still feels himself to be one of the lucky ones. some of the things he’s been avoiding hit harder than others, and he can’t control that anymore.

insofar as he’s aware of these developments, he considers it extremely unfair.)

but, ensuing stupid panic or no ensuing stupid panic, he commits to meeting up with toye. he figures they’ll catch up, maybe keep in contact, that now he’ll be able to stop wondering how toye’s doing, stop this strange off-balance feeling he’s had since toye got hit.

seeing toye again is actually a lot more than he’d ever anticipated, and he’s forced to acknowledge that maybe there’s more going on here than he’d figured.

he realises he’s attracted to this guy, and he doesn’t know when that started: probably in bastogne, but maybe earlier. it feels new but not new; if he hadn’t pointedly avoided thinking about joe after foy, maybe he’d have figured it out sooner. if they’d made it through the war together, maybe something would have happened between them in europe, but they lost each other too soon for him to know. he’s a little discomfited by these feelings suddenly creeping up on him, but he’s trying hard not to let any of it show: not the attraction, not the unease.

he reasons that his feelings are only a problem if toye doesn’t share them. he thinks he could deal with that, but he is afraid they may not have a friendship anymore, that it was left behind in wartime.

he tells himself he’s not afraid of rejection. but he is. he doesn’t like feeling vulnerable, and suddenly he is.

when he thinks there’s a chance the attraction is mutual, he takes it. it works out for him. they stay together. he accepts that he’s falling in love and he lets it happen.

he falls in love with joe’s courage and honesty and selflessness, and he finds it incredibly hard to actually say that. (this is someone who considers “hanging out with you voluntarily” to be a love language.) he’s moved just by the fact joe wants to be with him, that he’s able to acknowledge that attraction and act on it despite his provincial catholic upbringing lol. he knows that joe’s recovery has been difficult, and he sees how joe is dealing with it, and, like in bastogne, he tries to support him as quietly and simply as possible.

he finds it hard to tell joe he loves him, but he pays attention to what joe does and says, and does whatever he can to make his life better. he never thinks joe needs him there, and he wouldn’t want it that way. he helps joe to adapt their old calisthenics training; they take roadtrips together. they’re still deeply protective of each other, and they still express it via touch, practical acts, and snark. they don’t struggle with physical affection as much as either of them might have worried; they’re a little hesitant at first, but it falls into place.

they’re fumbling their way a little, but they respect each other completely and unconditionally, and they’re kind and careful, and their relationship gets stronger as it goes on. 

and they dance together.

#thank you for the good wishes <33 #toye x mcclung #mctoye #earl mcclung #joe toye #replies #'charactering' #long post under the cut bc I love going All Out and uh. also this ship #fine to reblog btw #writing manifesto: all characters are idiots in their own way

[xsugarysweetsx]

Bam! Im gonna hit you with more various Honoka hcs.

⁃ So when Noka was a baby, neither her dad or Shirou knew what the hell to do with her wings.

⁃ Her first word was "Siro" which was exposed to be "Shirou"

⁃ She would fly around and their dad would make Shirou chase her down.

⁃ When Shirou and Noka were taken in by their uncle, he just slept and let her do whatever.

⁃ Their uncle, also known as Eraserhead, was a very kind guardian

⁃ He went to each of Shirou's ballet concerts, and did Noka's hair for picture day

⁃ If you looked through his search history it would be filled with "how to do a braid for beginners"

⁃ Aizawa bought Noka various art supplies and bought Shirou new shoes whenever they needed them

⁃ Didnt want them to become heroes

⁃ Cause he didnt want to see the two children he practically raised to be hurt

⁃ But because of their ties to All for One, the government forced both of them to become heros to "prove" that they had severed their bonds with All for One

⁃ Shirou's dream was to become a professional dancer and Noka's was to become a professional artist

⁃ And Aizawa was not happy that the two lights in his life were torn from their dreams

⁃ And so Shirou got accepted into the hero program, in class 1-A

⁃ He chose the hero name Shifter

⁃ Cause he could shift into any organic form

⁃ When he got 3rd place at the sports festival, Noka ran around her uncle's apartment screaming with joy

⁃ Noka is literally his biggest fan

⁃ Noka's first friend was a small purple haired boy name Hitoshi Shinsou

⁃ So naturally, she called him Toshi

⁃ And she refused to call him anything else all throughout middle and high school

⁃ Shinsou and Noka have sleepovers all the time and you can't tell me otherwise

⁃ When people would tell Shinsou that his quirk was villainous, Noka would always speak up cause she knew Shinsou wouldnt contradict them

⁃ Noka is always like that

⁃ Speaking up for others and herself. And her smart mouth tends to get her in trouble

⁃ Shinsou would fuss over Noka's wings. Like if they were dirty or a few feathers were out of place, Shinsou would sit her down and fix her wings.

⁃ "Toshi, your inner mom is showing"

⁃ "Its not my fault you cant take proper care of your wings"

⁃ When she told Shinsou about her acceptance into U.A's med course, he couldn't have been prouder

⁃ Noka is actually the one who encouraged Shinsou to train with her uncle.

⁃ But before that lets talk about Noka's time at U.A. so far

⁃ She was first introduced to class 1-A during the first combat training

⁃ Healed everyone who got very minor injuries

⁃ At the USJ attack, Shigiraki deteriorated part of Noka's hip. But her extremely enhanced natural healing abilities stopped the deterioration

⁃ So she has this big ass scar on the back side of her left hip

⁃ She wanted to absolutely murder Shigiraki for letting the Nomu loose on her uncle

⁃ But she doesnt have any damaging fire power

⁃ So she just tried to heal her uncle's wounds the best she could

⁃ Nearly gets herself killed many times with her smart assery

⁃ And gives everyone around her a heart attack in the process

⁃ During the sports festival, she helped RG heal all the students

⁃ Reprimanded Deku for overusing OfA

⁃ Oh yeah, she learned about AfO and OfA from her time with All for One

⁃ Is kind of like to Deku like Recovery Girl is to All Might

⁃ So fast foward to the internships

⁃ She interns with another oc of mine, Snow

⁃ Who is a healer but with incredible attack powers

⁃ Coincidentally, Noka was patrolling Hosu when the nomus hit

⁃ She recieved Deku's distress signal and ran to the scene

⁃ She didnt attack the hero killer, but ran to help Native and made sure he didnt bleed out

⁃ The hero killer didnt bat a single eye at her, deeming her not a threat

⁃ In the end, she didnt harm Stain so her hero guardian? didnt have to take any blame for her actions

⁃ Noka however did get nearly ripped in half by a nomu, so she had to stay in the hospital with Todo and Deku

⁃ So— Summer training arc

⁃ She just looked at her class and said "fuck this" and flew over the whole forest

⁃ She actually beat the wild wild pussycats back to the camp

⁃ She got to know Kota, telling him how she never wanted to become a hero

⁃ Kota may or may not have developed a kiddie crush on her 😳

⁃ But anyways, when everyone else saw her all nice and refreshed, needless to say they were upset

⁃ Some more than others

⁃ *remembers Bakugou nearly blowing off Noka's face because she cheated*

⁃ Aizawa just smirking at his niece cause shes so much like her mother

⁃ "DAMMIT TAKAHASHI. YOU BETTER GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE YOU CHEATER"

⁃ "They said to use our quirks. Its not my fault your quirk is too grounded"

⁃ "WHAT— YOU WANNA FIGHT—"

⁃ "No I wanna eat, goodbye—"

⁃ Focuses on her attack and the healing capabilities of her quirk

⁃ Let me set the scene

⁃ At the beginning of UA, our Noka could barely heal up a small cut

⁃ But now, she can close up major wound with little to no effort

⁃ P r o g r e s s people

⁃ N e ways

⁃ So when they do the haunted quirk thingy

⁃ Hairi and Noka are paired up, to their delight

⁃ But they aren't able to go into the forest before the attack happens

⁃ Apparently, the league came for Bakugou and Noka

⁃ Cause the "master" wanted his first nomu to return to him

⁃ But all Deku knew was "they are after Kacchan and the master's first Nomu"

⁃ Nobody knew who the first nomu was except for Noka

⁃ See, AfO took and gave Noka various quirks, eventually ending up with her current quirk(s)

⁃ Eventually, Noka is cornered by Dabi

⁃ His fire power vastly out matches hers

⁃ But she puts up one hell of a fight

⁃ And Kurogiri took her before she woke up and fought back even more

⁃ So everyone was panicking when they couldnt find Noka

⁃ Aizawa was panicking them most

⁃ His precious niece was missing, no, taken by the league

⁃ The students had never seen their teacher so frazzled

⁃ The thing that broke Aizawa more was the look on Shirou's face when he told him that his baby sister was missing

⁃ His precious baby sister

⁃ His whole world

⁃ Shirou didnt go out of his room for days

⁃ He was there when they were to save Bakugou and Noka

⁃ All Might fought AfO, and won

⁃ But there was no sign of Noka

⁃ Shirou nearly tackled Bakugou, demanding, no, more like pleading for him to tell him where she was

⁃ Bakugou merely said "She's gone, and I dont know where she went"

⁃ The whole class was in a panic

⁃ Where was Noka? Was she hurt? Was she scared? Was she in danger?

⁃ And the question that hung on everyone's mind the most was

⁃ Is she alive?

⁃ The emptiness of Noka's desk was deafening

⁃ Their smart ass classmate was nowhere to be found

⁃ And they all felt guilty

⁃ But none more than Bakugou

⁃ For he was the last to see her alive so to speak

⁃ And her last words to him were "Forget about me ya big oaf, you hear me? I don't want you sulking, or I'll personally beat your ass."

⁃ Forget about her? How could he do that?

⁃ Noka was the only person who didn't put up with his bullshit

⁃ From day one she put him in his place

⁃ And honestly shes the closest thing to a sister he has

⁃ During the hero license exam, all of class 1-A decided that Noka would be really upset if they all sulked and failed their exams

⁃ But the fact that only Todoroki and Bakugou failed would make her fall into hysterics

⁃ When class 1-A met the big three, Mirio told them that Noka was strong and stubborn to a fault, so they shouldnt worry about things that arent in their control

⁃ To which they asked how he knew her

⁃ Apparently Shirou, Amajiki, and Mirio have all been friends since elementary school

⁃ So Amajiki and Mirio had been there a lot for many crucial parts of Noka's childhood

⁃ When the work studies started, Deku went on patrol with Mirio and Shirou, AKA Lemillion and Shifter

⁃ Shirou couldnt help but feel so much guilt crushing him when Eri jumped out of Deku's arms

⁃ Cause Eri reminded him of his little sister

⁃ Speaking of little sister

⁃ For the last 2 months, Noka had been experimented on by Kai Chisaki

⁃ In the mean time trying to protect Eri and building a loving friendship with the young girl

⁃ But ive alreadly talked about this part

⁃ So skipping to when they save her

⁃ It was a total shock for them

⁃ To see this wingless, pale, frail, bandage wrapped girl

⁃ And even more so when she spoke

⁃ Not having that bite that their Noka had

⁃ But a softer, more broken voice replaced her normally boisterous and confident voice

⁃ In the big battle agains Chisaki, Noka got slammed against a wall

⁃ Which in normal circumstances would be fine, but with her body in such a week state it immediately cracked her ribs and spine

⁃ Ochako helped get her friend to the ambulance as quick as she could

⁃ Shirou saw a fluff of pale pink hair out of the corner of his eye

⁃ He immediately turned to run towards the medical stretcher, but was stopped

⁃ He kicked and screamed something along the lines of "THATS MY BABY SISTER. PLEASE LET ME SEE HER"

⁃ In the most broken voice you would ever hear

⁃ In the hospital, after Sir. Nighteye had passed, Deku, Kirishima, Amajiki, Shirou, Ochako, Tsu and Aizawa were all waiting anxiously for Noka's surgery

⁃ When all of a sudden the door explodes open and the nurses and doctors are shoved out by an invisible force of heat

⁃ Noka was using her ability to set herself aflame and be healed in the ashes

⁃ But no one knew wtf was going on cause she learned the trick at the Hassaiki hideout

⁃ So p a n i k

⁃ But after the doctors confirmed her stablility, they all went back to school

⁃ The whole class bursted into tears when they told them about Noka

⁃ Jirou, Kaminari, Momo and Mina all being the most emotionally impacted

⁃ Bakugou was almost crying witb relief but he disnt show jt

⁃ They weren't allowed to see Noka for a whole month

⁃ Only family were allowed

⁃ She was hard at work recovering and going through therapy and they didnt want to disturb her

⁃ But when they (Kirishima, Deku, Ochako, and Tsu) did visit, they were shocked

⁃ There was this soft spoken, trembling, woman, and this was after a month of intense therapy

⁃ They hadnt event started physcial therapy yet, they wanted to get her tk the point she could be around others without going into a panic mode

⁃ Thus she needs the wheelchair

I have a bunch more random hcs but this is so long anyways. Im so sorry >_<

~Blurb~

It’s fine anon but seriously you gotta start posting!

#anime #fanfiction #anime x reader #bsd fandom #bsd fanfic #bts #kpop #kpop fluff #btsxreader #haikyuu x reader

[shoujoaccent]

can you share your thoughts on kuro and iwanaga pls 🥺

ok first, i love them, so jot that down lmao i’m just going to be rambling w/ the information i have today!! which is ep7 of the anime & vol.10 of the manga!!

the first thing i want to touch on is this recent idea that kuro is with iwanaga by force, or her persistence, or not having romantic feelings for her... and even though i can see why people have that conclusion, i feel like a big factor to that ideal has been from 1) their romance has been subtext because of the genre and the fact that their relationship is established, and 2) the fact that kuro’s character, especially in the anime, is flat and often misconstrued... when he both has valid reasons for his characterization and has proven that he genuinely cares for her, her well-being, and their relationship. 

again!! i must repeat!! they are together in an established romantic relationship. this is not a budding romance, so we’re not going to get a lot of moments of them realizing their feelings/etc. he may have moments where he’s not prioritizing her, but he always makes up for it, and shows that he goes out of his way to make her happy. yes, he teases her relentlessly, and yes, he says he’s going to break up with her..... but literally all of his actions indicates his care.

also, the second thing i want to touch upon is that kuro and kotoko’s relationship is complicated because individually, they are complicated themselves. kuro’s lack of attachment can be explained away with the abuse of his grandmother, his strange relationship with rikka, and the fact that he’s immortal (like, why is he going to get legally married when he’ll never have a death certificate?). kotoko flirts, sure, but she’s distant herself. she’s shown that she has no hesitation of bending ethics to uphold the natural order, and that her job will always become before everything, even her health. before kuro, she’s described to being to herself and rare to any emotional outburst. nonetheless, she’s still a rich, protected daughter that was found dismembered... like she has her own rich backstory that doesn’t go away just bc she talks about being horny 24/7 lol

ok more things under the cut bc of spoilers and i cant be vague anymore:

THIRD THING!! another thing that gets brought about kuro’s feelings and it’s the fact that he has feelings for his cousin and saki still. therefore, his relationship with kotoko is strictly platonic... but that’s... that’s just not the case. i need to break this down into parts bc WHEW I HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS

FIRST, if kuro has feelings for rikka, then there should have been no problem for them to be together. in the recent volume (10), she literally states that he was supposed to be hers... but what eventually ended up happening is the fact that kuro did get closer with kotoko. 

and see, the thing with that is..... if kuro has had nothing but feelings for rikka, then his relationship with saki wouldn’t have happened in the first place either. not to sound pro-inc*st, but they are immortal beings and the last of their family line. there’s literally nothing stopping them besides kuro not wanting to pursue a romantic relationship with rikka... and he didn’t. he got engaged to saki instead.

kuro has also stated that rikka was only in the hospital because she wanted to be mortal again, aka she wanted to die... but why? there’s events that we’re missing and won’t get to see into later down the line. regardless, it’s safe to say that kuro loves rikka to his full capacity as family and as someone who shared his same horrid past, but he doesn’t love her more than that. (he also said she was a monster beforehand anyway so.... idk, maybe that has something to do with that LOL.)

but that also brings us to the next thing: why saki?

it’s been clear that he dates saki because she looked like rikka. they were together to the point of engagement and talks of marriage, but nothing came into fruition bc he’s an immortal that scares off spectres.

but thats the thing too, their relationship would’ve never worked bc 1) he was always hiding the fact on who he was, and 2) again, he is immortal. maybe she was his attempt to be normal, but kuro’s very aware of his situation at all times. i don’t doubt he loved saki, but a lot of his residual feelings from the lady steel arc indicate guilt rather than lingering feelings.

and of course, he feels freaking guilty!!! he lied to her about his condition, and then scared her to the point where she couldn’t even eat certain meats. that’s a heavy burden to be at fault for. (luckily, they do resolve this and apologize to each other!! but that’s the thing too: be the end of lady steel, they aren’t letting go of their feelings. they’ve been aware that their relationship was over for a long time and that they both moved on. there were just some leftover wounds.)

AND AHHH!!!! i think its also to point out the fact that rikka approved saki (aka her clone), but she never approved kotoko. rikka said that she thought she could wait for kuro to get tired of kotoko, but he never did. that’s why kotoko became a bigger threat than she already was. not only was she an indicator that kuro wasn’t looking for rikka in people, but because his feelings for kotoko are genuine. it drives rikka to the point of insanity bc she literally is trying to create something to kill a god.

so to summarize: kuro loves rikka, but only as family. kuro dates saki bc she reminded him of rikka (aka probably the only he did know in his fucked up childhood), but it doesn’t work out bc he’s immortal anyway. kuro dates and ends up having actual feelings for kotoko, which brings us to the present and why rikka feels threatened to the point of violence.

GOT IT!!!

also, since we’re nearing the end, there’s something also interesting about kuro and kotoko’s relationship that i’ve thought about since their christmas chapter. kuro is a broke college student. kotoko is an heiress. they’re constantly going on trips and dates, but for the most part, kuro is going out of his way to treat kotoko. he’s thankful for her parents for taking in rikka, but there’s not a plot about him being indebted to her/etc... and i’ve been thinking about this since the christmas chapter bc he chose to work at his part-time job than spend it with her. at first, it’s easy to be upset about it...... but again, kuro’s a broke college student. of course, he needs to work a lot. he not only has school, bills, and groceries, but he’s trying to accommodate kotoko to a lifestyle where she’s happiest in (like a goOD BOYFRIEND) and it makes me wanna cry ok

in conclusion, i just think it’s dumb to act like these two aren’t together or that they don’t have feelings for each other. it’s there. in fact, it’s probably the only constant/consistent thing in a story with a lot of moving parts. they both lead incredibly complicated lives, but they’re there for each other.

i won’t lie, kuro talks a lot of shit lmao, but i don’t get how that’s different from kotoko being overly sexual/vulgar when she doesn’t mean it either. kuro literally told her that he needs her and her response was telling him to not think he’s hot shit lololol. i get also bc kotoko’s overtly sexual (and lbr, attracts a lot of lolicons), so if she’s not being praised/not being treated like a princess by kuro, then that makes him a worse boyfriend... but he doesn’t treat her poorly. hell, that pinocchio proved that she really takes for granted that he dies a lot of her sometimes to the point with other spectres (aka the things that want to see kuro die LOL) think she (aka their god that they praise 24/7) is harsh.

but that’s what being in a relationship too is. you’re not going to appreciate someone at all hours of the day, but the point is, you have to be constantly taking care of each other, even when you don’t want to. kuro and kotoko are constantly taking care of each other, and thinking of each other’s well-being first and foremost. they might bicker, but that’s a fact that’s always acknowledged by everyone around them, despite initial opinions.

and tbh, i feel like kuro also feels a lot of guilt for rikka. maybe not for returning her feelings, but because his happiness with another person (kotoko) was the catalyst of her running away and causing havoc. i think that adds another layer to his distance with kotoko, but it doesn’t mean he has feelings for her romantically. what i really appreciate about the story is the fact that as simple as things are presented, there’s always a complex reason/backstory for it. there’s never a single moving part for anything. there’s plenty of motives and reasons.

#SUPER LONG ok u been warned #in/spectre #kyokou suiri #talk to me! #kyosuiri posts

[theskyeandsea]

Just Medicine || Erin & Skylar

Location: Nic & Skylar’s Home

Timing: June 14th

Tagging: @corpse--diem & @theskyeandsea

Description: Concerned by their troubling conversation online, Erin comes to check in on Skylar and the answers she finds are only more alarming.

Warnings: Addiction TW

If there was one person in town Erin never thought she had to worry about, it was the very one she found herself using the speed limit as a suggestion to get to right now. God damn it, Skylar. Sweet, innocent Skylar. The same young woman who taught ASL, who helped throw a gator-theme birthday bash. The woman was a seal, for Christ’s sake. It was an unfair pedestal to put her on, Erin knew that, and felt guilty when her frustrations drew those quick-fire judgments. People slipped up, lost their footing while trying to balance their worlds on their shoulders. Seal or not, Skylar was as susceptible as anyone. She didn’t know how to help, or if she could, but she’d be there even for a night to maybe help her keep her footing. Judging by the way she spoke earlier, that was very possibly a literal predicament. And with Nic fucking off into the woods, her own worry needed an outlet. And Skylar needed someone. “Skylar!” Erin hollered, nice and loud as she banged in the door. Jabbed the doorbell a few times for good measure. “Don’t even think about ignoring me, kid! I know where you hide your spare key!” 

For the past twenty four hours, Skylar had felt as though she was on cloud nine. Untouchable, nothing could stop her, nothing could hold her down. There was no pain, there wasn’t anything other than the euphoria that came with feeling completely, entirely good. The world was wonderful and bright and the sun was shining, eyeball free. Between that and her random spurts of energy that had driven her to run around in the backyard until she was dizzy, Skylar was feeling great. She’d never felt this way before. Never, ever, ever. Right now, she was lying in the middle of the living room, watching the fan whirl overhead, her eyes tracking one of the blades. Around and around and around and around and-- Skylar sat upright when she heard a loud pounding at the door. Glancing at her phone, she tilted her head. Erin? Listening closer, she nodded. Erin. Walking to the door, Skylar opened it, a dazed grin still on her face. “Hey, Erin!”

The longer Erin stood there waiting, the higher her blood pressure climbed. Tried not to think hard about why it was taking her so long to get to the damn door but it was hard when those enthusiastic, muddled messages kept replaying in her head. Then finally, footsteps. Skylar greeted her with a smile that wasn’t quite right, dark circles underlining nearly nonexistent pupils. “Skylar—“ she started but that concern returned, sharper than before as it trickled down her throat like barbed wire. Did she even remember Erin was coming over? It seemed like Skylar’s initial resistance to her company had disappeared like the rest of her good sense. “Hi,” she finally breathed out. “Can I come in?” It was framed as a question but Erin was already crossing the threshold to let herself in. There was no way she was leaving now. 

Erin was standing right in front of her and then she wasn’t, she was already inside. Skylar nodded all the same, happy to let the woman inside. “Nic’s not here right now, but,” She frowned, trying to piece together things. Time was strange. It felt both incredibly fast and slow at the same time-- like every moment went for infinity, but every hour felt like a second. Which didn’t make sense, even to her. “I think I already told you that.” Shutting the door behind her, Skylar wandered back over to the couch, where Dundee was still curled up. What she really wanted to do was lie on the floor like she had been doing before, the feeling of the wood cool compared to the rug. But, instead, she sat on the couch next to Dundee, staring at the dog as it wagged its tail once at her before going back to sleep. Running her hands against the material of the couch, Skylar tilted her head at Erin. “Why are you here again? Not that I’m not happy that you’re here, it’s always nice when you are! Nic smiles a lot when you say you’re coming by. But he’s not here right now.”

All Erin could do was follow silently, observing Skylar’s sporadic train of thought—when she wasn’t veering off course or colliding with other thoughts, anyway. It was all still jumbled and worrisome, even if she was being as sweet as she always was. “Yeah, I know he’s not,” she nodded. Her eyes flickered around the large room anyway, like he’d changed his mind and come home. Part of her was hoping that he had, that she’d answer the door and see him standing there. But the moment she saw Skylar’s state, it was likely for the best. One mess at a time. Couldn’t help smiling, even briefly, at her words, dropping her gaze to stare at the floor. “I didn’t come to see him,” Erin said, take great care to speak softly as she joined her on the couch. “I came to see you.” She bit her lip, Skylar’s bloodshot eyes more vibrant ever in the better lighting. “You said you were feeling better and I just—“ she paused, shrugging. “I was hoping you could help me with something?”

As Erin continued to speak, Skylar blinked-- it was harder for her to hear, harder for her to pick up the words that she was saying. And, as she tried to focus on the woman’s lips in an attempt to lip read, she was only able to pick up bits and pieces. Not much, just little hints here and there that managed to make it through the wonderfully light feeling that had encompassed her. It felt like there were bubbles in her, like she was floating up and up and up and there was nothing that could bring her down. “Mhm! I’m better!” She said with a vigorous nod as she pieced together the last of the woman’s words. “Help you? What do you need?” She asked, wanting to do whatever she could to help Erin. She liked Erin, even if she had initially been a little creeped out to find out that she worked with dead people all the time.

Erin wasn’t entirely convinced Skylar was following what she was saying, her eyes roaming like they were a little lost when she spoke. Right. Slow it down. Ugh, this was painful. “I’m really happy that you’re so happy.  Honestly, I am,” she nodded, taking her time, giving her a warmer smile. “But I gotta say, I’m not having the greatest day myself, you know? Like it’s been a really, really rough one.” Her brows narrowed in her direction, hoping Skylar was still out of it enough to roll with her impromptu plan. That part at least wasn’t a blatant lie? “I was hoping you could... show me what you did. To make yourself feel better.” She shrugged nonchalantly. “We’re friends, right? You’d help me out with something like that? Oh—just between us, too, of course,” she added, running her fingers along her lips like a zipper. 

The slower Erin spoke, the harder it was for Skylar to track what she was saying. The lip movements didn’t make as much sense, the pauses made it harder for her to latch onto what was being said. But, she did her best to parse through the words. Not… greatest… rough. “Oh, no! I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry, that’s awful.” She said, her head lolling back against the soft cushion of the couch as she stared up at Erin. She didn’t want Erin to have a bad day and she wanted to help! She really, really did. But, a look of confusion spread across her face at her words. “Are you hurt?” She asked, confused. Because the stuff making her feel better, it was only if she was hurting. Looking at Erin, she tilted her head. “Did someone hurt you?”

This was going to be difficult no matter which way she spliced it, huh? Erin willed her patience to persevere and worked her jaw, then nodded. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault,” she assured her, pausing briefly as she tried to navigate a believable lie. “Yep,” she answered when it felt like she was taking too long. “I, uh—got into an argument the other day with a real jerk. You don’t know him, and I took care of it so don’t worry about that either, but he gave me a heck of a shiner.” She pointed to the very faint purpled and yellowed bruise that still lingered near her eye and down her cheek. Cringed first show, then pointed to the back of her head. “Hit my head too, been killing me ever since. So if you’ve got anything to help—I’d really appreciate it.”

As Erin showed her the marks on the side of her head, Skylar’s eyes widened in shock. “And he hit you? Does Nic know?” She asked, a thin trickle of concern managing to seep through the buoyant lightness that kept her spirits aloft, that kept her from feeling the pain that she normally would. At the other woman’s words, Skylar bit the inside of her cheek, though the gesture lacked the normal dull pressure that it usually did. The stuff Felix gave to her, it was strong. Really, really strong. How else could it have worked on her? It would probably be super bad for Erin. So she wasn’t going to show her the bliss. Nope, that would probably knock her out really bad. But, she still had a pill or two left from when she’d gotten shot by the river. “I’ve got something that could help!” She said, standing up on slightly unsteady feet before walking to her room. 

Erin shook her head softly, waving off Skylar’s concern. “Nic knows. It’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine, but—I hit him back,” she assured her, the sound of the metal baseball back smacking against skull thundering in her mind. “Got him sent to a place where he can’t hurt anyone again.” She shifted slightly. Was this actually working? Hopefully she wouldn’t remember why Erin needed whatever it was that had gotten Skylar so completely fucked up in the first place. Erin was on her feet, following behind her—partially to make sure she made it to her room in one piece. But she hung back by the doorway, crossing her arms as she watched her. As glad as she was that this was actually about to work, her insides twisted at the reality here. Skylar wasn’t fucking okay. “And this helped?” She asked, peering into her room

“Oh, okay.” Skylar nodded, her concerns disappearing with the wave of Erin’s hand. If she said it was fine, if she said that the guy who hurt her was gone, then there wasn’t anything for her to worry about. As she entered her room, she made her way to her desk, opening the drawer and rummaging around among the papers, pens, and the random odds and ends that rolled around inside. Her fingers brushed against the small box Felix had sent her, that she’d taped to the underside of the desk to hide it from anyone who might try and find it. Instead of taking the box, her fingers curled around the pill bottle he’d sent her over a month ago. A few loose pills rattled around and she showed it to Erin. “I don’t know if it would be safe for you, though. It’s very, very strong. Medicine doesn’t work on me very well, so I need a lot of it.” She said, holding out the bottle.

Erin bit the inside of her lip as she eyed the pill bottle, torn between being infuriated and heartbroken right now. “I’m not taking these,” she answered honestly, grabbing the bottle. So this was it, huh? There only a few left, which made sense considering Skylar’s current state. Erin held it up before giving it a little shake at her,  then met her bloodshot eyes. “And neither are you,” she added, the softness in her tone slipping, giving way to a mix of concern and disappointment. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but this shit isn’t the answer. I know you feel good now but it’s temporary.” Skylar was a grown ass woman and Erin knew she wasn’t saying anything every after school special had to offer, but she had to try right? She handed the bottle back to her “I want you to toss those. Right now.”

Blinking in confusion, Skylar was too out of it to react quickly enough to stop Erin from pulling the pill bottle from her hand. Before she could wrap her head around what was going on, the bottle was back in her hand and she was staring at Erin with a confused expression on her face. “I... Why? I’ve never felt good, in my entire life. Never, ever.” She shook her head vigorously. Even if these weren’t the right pills, what she was saying about the medicine… “It’s medicine. It’s helping me. It’s helping me not feel bad and not be stuck,” Skylar pointed at her bed, “Stuck in bed all day because, because everything is too much.” And she didn’t need to change. And that was the most important thing. 

Erin felt another crack in her chest give way while Skylar spoke. “Skylar…” she shook her head. “It’s not. I swear to you that it’s not. What you’re feeling, right now? It’s not real. There are other ways—better ways—to cope. I promise. I’m not just staying that either. I understand… that,” she said, gesturing to the bed now too. That heavy exhaustion that could trap a person down like a leaded blanket was a battle she knew all too well. It was hell. Turning to this was tempting on so many levels that she couldn’t blame Skylar at all for wanting that escape. But God did this ever feel a minefield. “Way better than you’d think, okay? And we can talk about all of that, as little or as much as you want.” Her eyes dropped to the bottle with the pills again. “After you flush those.”

Skylar did her best to muddle through Erin’s words. Not real? No, this was the only thing that felt real and right and good. Shaking her head, she looked at Erin, her blue eyes earnest, “I don’t think you do, though. No one really does. I hate what I am. It’s hurt me. It hurt my family, the people I care about. It still hurts me. And I don’t want to hurt anymore. I don’t want to hurt anyone else. I just want,” She let out a puff of air, blowing loose strands of hair from her face, “to be normal. And this is normal!” Skylar gestured to herself. “I feel good! I love how I am! I’m happy and better like this.” She nodded with renewed vigor.

Of all the nonsense Skylar had been blabbering on about, this threw Erin for a loop. It wasn’t nonsense at all, of course, if you focused on the direction this skewed train headed toward. It was very real. And very concerning. “Because you’re a selkie?” She asked, if only just to clarify. “What’s wrong with that?” Erin had her secrets, no question, but this specifically wasn’t an area she could dole out sage advice. And unless selkies were also some sort of man eating version of a seal she wasn’t aware of, she genuinely didn’t understand. She shook her head slowly. “Skylar—there is no normal. It doesn’t exist. And if there ever was one, it’s not you doped up on painkillers. It’s temporary because it’s not you. You will crash, and you will feel even more like shit than you did before.”

“Everything’s wrong with me.” Skylar said, her voice still even and upbeat as she spoke. She’d lost everything by being what she was. Her family had cut her out of their lives entirely. She’d tried and failed to gain control over this side of her, tried to figure out how to love what she was. She’d lost Ricky, lost the one person who had reassured her that he would be there to help her figure out what it meant to be a selkie. She’d only ever failed and lost and been hurt by what she was. So, what was wrong with this? What was wrong with feeling good? Even if it was only for now… maybe she could keep it going. If she just took a little more, took a little bit to make sure that she was good, that she was okay, maybe then she’d never need to turn. Maybe she could be human. “It’s okay. It’ll all be okay.” She said with a blissful smile.

Skylar was convinced this was the better way and Erin was realizing nothing she said was going to penetrate the iron-clad armor of serotonin that kept her grinning like an idiot. What little energy she had was depleting fast and what Erin could do right now was make sure she didn’t do anything stupid in this state. “It’ll be okay,” she echoed with a long sigh. Everything would be okay. It had to. Nic would come home and they’d work this all out. Squids and seal self-loathing be damned. She’d accept nothing less. “Come here,” she stepped forward, a temporary defeat in her voice as she wrapped her arms around the young woman. “I happen to think you’re pretty awesome just the way you are, you know. So I’m gonna stay here tonight and hang out. That alright with you?”

When Erin reached out and pulled her into a tight hug, Skylar wasn’t sure how to react. Hadn’t she been mad at her? But now she was hugging her. Whatever confusion she had was pushed out of her mind as she leaned into the embrace, burrowing her head into the woman’s shoulders. Skylar hugged Erin back, though her limbs felt limp and rubbery as she did so. “Okay. That sounds good to me.” She said, her voice muffled. This was good. Everything was right and good. Even if the house was empty, even if Nic was nowhere to be found, even if Shiloh hadn’t messaged her in days, even if Remmy had been torn into pieces before her eyes, even if Morgan was still trying to figure out her new life as a zombie, even if Deirdre had murdered people, even if White Crest was awful and cruel and terrible… Right now, things were good. And that’s what mattered.

#p: jm #p: erin nichols #addiction tw #wickedswriting

[suits-of-woe]

For the OTP asks... f!Edmund & Goneril >:3

1. If you had to change the pairing’s very first meeting, how would you change it?Well their first meeting was presumably years before the play started so idk. For this AU in particular though, maybe not the first meeting, but I’m picturing a young Edmund walking around court with a chip on her shoulder but secretly kind of desperate to find anyone she can who can relate to her and accept her in terms of her sexuality and everything she’s facing and Goneril like…knowing that but knowing that associating with her is only going to make it harder for both of them. So she probably tries to get the interactions with Edmund over with quickly but then the next time Gloucester comes to court Edmund’s been sent away and Goneril regrets not being able to do more.


2. What song fits your pairing the most?I’m notoriously bad at finding songs but I still LOVE “The Tower” by Vienna Teng that you suggested for Edmund in this AU.

3. What is your favorite AU/prompt idea/trope for your pairing?This AU for sure, f!Edmund is so great and I didn’t know I needed that until we started discussing it. I love talking about them so much :) I’m also just a sucker for any AU where they both live and so does Regan and they can actually have a talk and sort out some of their insecurities and mayhaps be emotionally vulnerable.

4. Do you prefer canon ideas or do you have your own headcanons for them?I love canon in all its sexy disastrous glory, but when I’m in the mood for them actually being soft and finding love and comfort with each other, it’s gotta be headcanons. Besides the set-up of the girl AU most of my hcs about their relationship are either post-canon or things they were thinking during canon, but as far as their canon scenes together I don’t really change much.

5. Favorite canon moment of them?I think you said this was your fave too but it’s gotta be 4.2. “Ere long you are like to hear, if you dare venture in your own behalf, a mistress’ command” is just SO MUCH. Dom!Goneril and sub!Edmund is the stupid hill I will die on. That whole scene is just brimming with Power Dynamics and Goneril finally deciding to just let loose and take what she wants, actually embrace her sexuality without fear for the first time. And Edmund just feeling so desired and also actually having someone go after her for once and getting very swept up in the whole thing. That scene is incredibly good.

6. Least favorite canon moment of them?The duel. Which is weird cause I love that scene character-wise for both of them individually, but in terms of their relationship I find it devastating. Goneril having to watch Edmund get mortally wounded and realising this whole relationship that made her give up everything, made her kill her sister, is just crumbling before her eyes and she really is going to be all alone again. And then in realising that she leaves Edmund alone! Edmund who’s spent the whole play desperate for love and affection is just totally without it in her last moments! Fuck!!! Shakespeare why did you do this to me?

7. Favorite headcanon trope/idea? (Your own or someone else’s)Ok I joke but I am actually so into the idea of Goneril being the one who initiates the relationship/is more dominant/forward in general because I think it swaps so many of the expectations they’ve both had to face in such a good way. Goneril’s always had to present herself as this object of desire and reproduction for men, that was how her value was measured as a princess and a wife, and her own desire has always been taboo and tamped down, ESPECIALLY because it’s for women. Whereas Edmund’s considered a perverse bastard, of course her tastes are wrong and vulgar, but she’s supposed to be like her mother, not the real object of anyone’s affection for longer than it takes for them to sleep with her and be done. So Goneril getting to WANT and Edmund getting to FEEL WANTED is my favourite thing.

8. Least favorite headcanon trope/idea? I hate interpretations where Edmund is just using her and Regan for power and doesn’t actually have any emotional connection to them at all. I find it so weird cause if she just wanted to marry a princess Regan is right there! It’s clearly not just about that! It doesn’t have to be True Love or anything but the idea that they have zero feelings for each other is ridiculous. And on a less blatantly wrong note: portrayals where Edmund is the one doing all the seducing. Have y’all read 4.2?

9. Favorite aspect of them/their relationship dynamics?The mutual loneliness…the mutual rejection they’ve faced from their parents and the world…the mutual realisation that maybe they ARE worthy of love and happiness and can find it with each other….yeah.

10. Least favorite aspect of them/their relationship dynamics? (Can be headcanon)Edmund buddy you gotta STOP sleeping with two sisters at the same time. I know it’s about her feeling the need to hoard all the love she can get but it’s so bad hon, you’re hurting everyone involved. If you could just NOT do that you could actually maybe have a happy monogamous relationship??

11. If they aren’t a canon pairing, how would you get them together?I mean they’re kind of canon but them having a functional monogamous relationship is definitely NOT so. My go-to “fix-it” (by which I mean fixing the sad feelings of me, a villain-stanning dumbass) scenario is basically Gloucester escapes with Lear, so Cornwall never blinds him and never dies and Regan has no reason to go for Edmund. The sisters win the war but Albany’s conscience gets to him so he helps Lear and Cordelia get away and goes with them (and also Edgar and Gloucester probs) back to France. Cue a very messy divorce, but at the end of it Goneril’s in full “fuck everyone, I do what I want” mode and Regan’s 100% there for her, so Edmund gets to be her closest advisor and not-so-secret lover, and now that they’re not surrounded by people who treat them as second-class all the time they can actually like…feel secure and be in love.

12. If you had to take them and plunk them into another fandom, what fandom would that be? Why?Hmm I suppose another play where they could be a badass power couple with less interference and tragedy. Antonio and Sebastian from the Tempest have some vibes so you could genderswap them. Could TOTALLY see Edmund like “hey you know how I usurped my sibling? I’ll help you usurp your sibling, and then maybe we can also bang”

13. How hard is it write/draw your pairing? Scale of 1-10.I’ve only kind of tried once (and that was with m!Edmund anyway) so idk…6 or 7 maybe? I like writing Goneril but I find Edmund’s voice very hard to get right, plus I’m always trying to find a good middle ground between Shakespearean English and totally modern language.

14. Is there a pairing that you think rivals them?I mean in-universe it’s Regan/Edmund but I don’t like them nearly as much (and I don’t think they like each other all that much either). If Regan weren’t so grief-stricken and Edmund weren’t so obsessed with holding onto any bit of affection I don’t think they ever would have gotten together.

15. Which character of the pairing do you like more? (Would you ever pair yourself with them?)I’m for sure an Edmund person — as much as I love Goneril, she’s not top 3 characters in the canon level of fave. And I think my crush on Edmund is well-documented (although less f!Edmund since I’m straight) but that relationship would probably end in my death tbh

16. Which character of your pairing would be the one to break up with the other? Why?I guess Edmund, since she’s the one who cheats, and even though Goneril seems to know about it she doesn’t end things. But realistically I don’t think Edmund would actually break up with her even if she probably should, she’d be more likely to keep hanging on because Affection™ even if things were a wreck. Honestly given how things are in the canon I think both of them would stick around long after it stopped being a good idea.

17. Are they relatable as characters or as a pairing?I relate to Goneril somewhat because Womanhood™ and oldest daughter feelings and especially in this AU having a bad and traumatic relationship with a man that makes you hate him even if it’s not really his fault :/ I don’t really relate to Edmund though, and I’ve never had a relationship similar to their dynamic

18. Did you once/ever dislike one/both of them?Regan was the first sister I loved and I still adore her but for a while that made me think of Goneril as the boring evil crazy sister who was just getting in everyone’s way. Edmund I loved from the start, although at first it was just in the “villain is cool and sexy haha” way, and it wasn’t until I got really into that character that I started loving Goneril too and thinking about how much they have in common and are SUCH victims of their parents and society in general.

19. On an estimate, how many posts have you made about them?Less than 5 I think, this is definitely a niche ship as far as people’s interest on here and tbh I didn’t start fully shipping it until recently. It’s definitely a guilty pleasure ship because their relationship is DISASTROUS but it also makes me feel…a lot of things.

20. What made you decide to ship them?I got really upset thinking about how Edmund canonically died alone and rewrote his death scene so Goneril was there they both kind of…realised how lonely they both were and got to have a genuinely tender moment right at the end. And then it occurred to me how sad their mutual love-starvation is and how much I want them to be there for each other. And THEN you helped me flesh out my ideas for f!Edmund and that just intensified both of their feelings of rejection by the world and Edmund getting to embody Goneril’s sexual liberation and both of them experiencing love in a way they never have before and that just made it even more compelling.

21. Favorite genre for them? (Angst, fluff, etc.)I’ve barely written them but honestly fluff because the main appeal of this ship is giving them both companionship and someone to understand what they’re going through. So yeah, I want them to be sweet and talk about their feelings and work through their issues enough to be a functional couple. Will this ever happen? Unlikely, but I can imagine it.

#ahhh thank you! #love getting to talk more about Them #this went from ironic ship to guilty pleasure ship to full on ship so fast and i'm obsessed with this AU #edmund #goneril #king lear #mine #asks #otp: yours in the ranks of death

[inkstaineddove]

Through Thick and Thin

Characters: Germany, Prussia

Summary: Germany and Prussia have never felt able to express their frustrations with one another. Finally, they're able to have the heart-to-heart their family desperately needed for either of them to move on and heal.

Prussia walked out onto the balcony. He came up behind his Germany and dropped the note onto the table next to the ashtray. Gilbert couldn't hide his smirk. "We live in the same house. You could come into my room and ask, though I do appreciate the extra work." Germany looked up at his brother. He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You know I've never been good at asking for things out loud. Beer? They're ice cold." Gilbert took him up on his offer, cracking open the bottle that was laid out for him. He slunk down in the chair besides his brother and kicked his feet up onto the rails. In silence, they gazed out across the Berlin skyline. The stars were barely visible beneath all the lights, but it was beautiful in its uniquely artificial way. It was home, after all.

"So, West, why'd you wanna talk? Something on your mind?" Prussia assessed Germany out the corner of his eye. Physically, he seemed in perfect shape. Gilbert never knew what was going on his head though, so how he was really doing was anyone's guess. "No one's been giving you shit right? I've kicked everyone's ass on this godforsaken continent and I'll do it again if I gotta, just say the word." He wrinkled his nose. "Is it Feliks or Francis? They're always starting shit." Ludwig was thankful that the night made it harder to see. He couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes and wincing. Why would he expect dissolution to calm his brother down, even after all these years? Gilbert, for better or worse, was Gilbert and that meant he was always itching for a fight. Still, Germany couldn't hold back his tongue. "And if it is them? What are you going to do? Invade them? With what army?" He rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to force out any irritation he was feeling. "No, they're all pricks. I've learnt to ignore them. I just...wanted to talk. We're family, we're allowed to do that." He received no answer. For his part, Gilbert was still nursing his wounds from that surprise attack. Really, going after the fact that he didn’t have a body politic anymore? What a low blow, especially considering who’s fault that was. He pushed the growing fire to the bottom of his belly, smiled and raised his glass. "Yeah! Of course we can! I was just caught off-guard since you always prefer radio silence, but we can try talking!" He clinked his glass with Ludwig's. "Cheers, West!" In unison, they drank. Each chugged down half of their beer and tried to focus on the positives of what this could be and ignore any resentment they held for the other. They hadn't actually talked in half a century. Why would they be able to now? Nothing had changed for them substantially to bring it about. It would be another failed attempt at family reunification, with both of them calling up Roderich tomorrow to complain about each other to him. That would be better than fixing anything. Ludwig sighed. If he'd really believed that, he wouldn't have asked. They used to be close - incredibly close - and could get that way again. He'd have to force himself and his brother to be honest with each other, a difficult task but not impossible. He set down his glass and ran a hand through his hair, letting some slicked-back strands loose. He'd take a cue from America's playbook. "Gilbert, is there any reason you hate me or is this who you’ve become?" Gilbert spat out his mouthful of beer. Foam dripped down from his chin as he turned to Ludwig, making him look like a wolf sick with rabies. "The fuck did you just say to me? You're not too old to get hit!" "That was harsh, my apologies." Germany flinched at the sound of his own voice. He spoke to his own brother like he spoke to some ally. “What are your issues with me? Your resentment towards me makes living with you unbearable at times.” Prussia finished his bottle of beer. He'd need some alcohol in his veins to make it through this conversation. He looked back out over Berlin, imagining what it used to be like when he was still a nation and his royal family was still important. "Well, Luddy dear, this may come as a surprise to you, but I'm essentially dead. I've got control of a section of my old kingdom that doesn't even bear my name. I'm seen as some militaristic outcast when France and Britain are as guilty of the same. And, worst of all, my name has become synonymous with crimes you committed without hesitation! Ones that I never wanted part of and took part of multiple efforts to sabotage." He glanced at his brother sharply. "I do hate you in a way cause you've been nothing but trouble for me. I wish Austria had been your brother instead, unification was the worst mistake of my life." Gilbert got up and opened another bottle. He swigged down half of it, looking anywhere but at Ludwig. "Germany was supposed to be a vehicle of power for me and my leaders. Initially, it was. But then we were forced to officially lose the war and my leaders let Germany grow into its own thing, fucking it all up for me. You were meant to be a puppet and nothing more, Holy Rome with a new name and under new ownership." He smiled sadly at the sky. "Though, I can't blame France and Britain for seeing through that plan. I didn't really try to hide it, but it did hurt when they destroyed it.” He winced. “Twice." Germany realized he was laughing. He was running on autopilot, unaware of what he was doing until after. "You piece of shit, you still blame me for the war? The war that's been over for more than seventy years?" He launched up and began pacing the length of the balcony. His blood was boiling, he hadn’t allowed himself to feel this enraged in decades. "Take the blame for something for once in your life! There's blood on your hands too! That hatred, that anger was something your people already had towards every group we - yes, we, Gilbert! - targeted! I don't care if you were selling secrets to Churchill and de Gaulle, you followed orders!" He took a deep breath, calming himself considerably so he was no longer shouting. "Fine, you were morally superior to me from the 1930s till 1945. Does that make you happy? Are you satisfied? What will make you feel better about that, Gilbert? Because how you feel about your involvement is more important than how the rest of the world - the rest of the world on the right side - saw your actions." Prussia lit a cigarette slowly. He took a deep drag and lifted his middle finger up. "Kiss my ass, you little shit." He let that hang there while catching his thoughts. It took every ounce of strength in his body to not throw Ludwig off the building. He would if he knew it would kill him. "See, I was selling secrets. I'd bring food and medicine to the camps and smuggle people out of ghettoes on inspection. I did what I could. So, I'm a bit better than you because I wasn't evil. I was disgusting, but not soulless. But, if you'd kept my fucking government, it might've been different because those assholes would have faced some resistance. That couldn't happen though because big, bad Ludwig wanted to prove himself as the strong leader of the Totally-Not-Prussian-But-German Republic." He smiled like a wolf. "You sure proved yourself, West. Did a real great job with the reins." He snorted. "If I had it my way, I wouldn't have trusted you to lead a horse, much less a people." Germany snapped. "I've got it now! I know who you remind me of!" "A competent nation who can actually win a war?" He waved his hand. "Please, you gave up that title with the Schlieffen Plan. No, you remind me of Britain. Washed up, stuck in the past, and full of distaste for your successor. No wonder you two were allies for so long. Though, I suppose you'd blame me for that falling through as well. Do you blame me for Fritz's death and Napoleon's destruction of your washed-up army too?" Germany smiled when he saw that got his desired reaction. "Shouldn't you be proud of me? I'm now able to do with peace what you could never achieve through war. Finally, a truly essential part of Europe and I haven't had to invade anyone for it." “You wouldn’t have to be such a pussy if you could actually win! What a shame you’re more Saxon and Bavarian than Brandenburger or Prussian! Besides, don’t you just act as a sugar daddy for half of the EU while selling yourself out to Russia and France? That’s a real-” Prussia cut himself off. The absurdity of the entire situation dawned on him when he looked at Germany, really looked at him for the first time this evening. Seeing his younger brother looking so angry and understandably upset at him sent a wave of nausea over Gilbert. If they really wanted to repair things, this wasn’t the way to do it. It was time he swallowed his pride and acted like the older sibling. Gilbert took a deep breath and opened the door to the living room. “Come on. Shouting at each other for all our neighbors to hear isn’t doing anything. We can stop being dicks now. It’s obvious we’re both hurt.” Taken aback, Ludwig complied and made his way to the couch. Gilbert took over the opposite end and let out another long exhale. “Alright, I’m gonna try to be an adult so have some mercy on me, alright?” Happy that that got a smile out of brother, Gilbert proceeded. “It’d be bullshit to try and act like I didn’t mean all that cause I did. I’ve been feeling like that for decades now. And we can deal with that later, but let me answer your original question without having a tantrum. “Yeah, West, I am pissed at you and a part of me really hates you. You took my job and left nothing for me to do here. And, when I did have power, you stripped that away from me the first chance you got because you thought your way was better since you needed to prove yourself. I know I’m guilty of a fair amount - I wouldn’t argue that, I’m haunted by a lot of that just like you - but that doesn’t erase what I, as Gilbert, tried to do. And that’s what gets thrown away and...why? Because I’m related to you means what I did to try and help meant nothing? That because my state was being occupied and I couldn't lead my people in revolt discounts what I did as a person? That my personal rebellion doesn’t matter because it was small? Then, on top of all this, being called blood-thirsty and the source of all your worst traits and having you agree with it! For fuck’s sake, why would I wanna talk to you? You’ve got this picture of me in your head, doesn’t seem like you need the real deal anymore.” Germany had been looking at his hands the entire time Prussia spoke. What Gilbert said hurt, especially because he knew this was the truth. The real truth, not spun in a way that was meant to cut as deeply as possible. Still, a little voice nagged in the back of his head that this wasn’t fair and he couldn’t resist giving in. “Gilbert, if you had told me this earlier then I would’ve been more understanding and have let you help out with various things. I didn’t realize this meant so much to you. You always said you were happy having the house to yourself and about finally being free from the burdens of nationhood.” Prussia winced. Ludwig really believed those transparent lies. Everyone else knew he was so obviously faking it, everyone except the one person who mattered most. He shook the hurt out of his head. They were slowly fixing that problem now. He smiled. “You say that, but you’ve never told me why you’re so pissed at me. Hell, you still haven’t.” His face turned pink. Now was as good a time as ever. “Ah, well, how do you think it’d feel to live in the shadows your ‘awesome’ brother? I’ve known since the beginning everyone preferred you. Russia and Britain were the most obvious ones. Neither of them could trust me as far as they could throw me and they’d constantly ask me about you or look disappointed when they saw me walk into the room - hell, Russia still does that. Even our leaders wanted to work with you. Bismarck saw me only as a tool, as did each kaiser and the military establishment. When the empire fell, they were desperate to cling onto their Prussian titles, but not the German ones. Especially Wilhelm. He was fine with abdicating as emperor, but losing you?” He scoffed. “Well, we all know you’re the real prize. “Then, when I finally had something that was unmistakably my own, you opposed it. You wanted to continue doing things your way. I was done with your way - your way caused us to lose the Great War. I wanted my people to stop being proud of being Bavarian or Saxon or Prussian and instead be proud to be German. That...didn't work out as planned and I was naive enough to believe you and Austria would stand by me, admit that we’d all done wrong, and work to make amends with the rest of the world. His maneuvering out of it didn’t surprise me, nor did the Allies accepting it contrary to fact, but your attempts to disgusted me. As far as I’m concerned, there’s blood on your hands. I believe that you helped people, but I also saw you when you didn’t find it advantageous to be the hero, when you seemed to have no reservations in participating in all those horrible things we did. You’re better than me for trying to fix what you did immediately, but you were still part of the machine.” Neither of them spoke. They were mulling over each other's words, trying to figure out where they fit in their perceptions of how the last century had gone. Their messy relationship was beginning to make sense and they could feel their family slowly melding back together. Gilbert chuckled and leaned back into the couch cushions. He grinned wide at the ceiling. "I've been holding that in since you fucked up the march into Paris in 1914. I really do hate your dumbass. I don't get how you can be related to the greatest military mind of all of continental Europe and then lose every battle against a real opponent." He laughed a bit harder. "I wouldn't have trusted you against the Swedes in Pomerania." Ludwig opened and shut his mouth like a fish. That blindsided him. Was it an insult, a joke, a mix of both? He began mapping it out in his mind and started stuttering out a defense. Gilbert hit him in the side of the head with a throw pillow. "It's a joke! Kinda. Seriously though, who invades Russia? You're so intelligent and then you do stupid shit like that." Germany threw the pillow back. "Shut up, please. I have to hear it from every enlightened World War Two historian, I don't need to hear it from the most awesome and powerful of all the European armies, the general who commanded them all with grace and courage. Have I kissed your ass enough yet to get you to drop it?" He couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from lifting up into a smile. Prussia leaning over and throwing him into a good-natured headlock was the answer he needed. They laughed and the tension started to leave the room. Optimism for the future began to fill them both. Gilbert freed Ludwig from his grasp and crossed his arms behind his head. "It's gonna be a bitch, but we'll get through this. You and I, we can survive anything." He winked. "We're pretty awesome like that." Ludwig smiled at his brother, enjoying Gilbert's presence for the first time in years. "Yeah, it'll take time. But, we'll be alright. One way or another we always are."

#aph prussia #aph germany #aph fanfic #aph fanfiction #aph #Axis Powers Hetalia #hetalia #HETALIA FANFIC #hetalia fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #germancest #just tagging for views #this is all brotherly dont be weird

[ariadnelives]

Chapter 20 -- The Confessions

[Missed earlier chapters? Go catch up here! Otherwise, welcome back! Oh, and make sure to join our discord server! Chapter can also be found @ ao3”]

“Hey Zee,” Sasha said, “what’s the note say?”

“I’m still trying to load it up,” Sweettalk replied. “I swear I’m this close to breaking this machine, that rat bastard used some kind of old filetype and the computers are taking whole minutes to load it. He did this on purpose, he couldn’t just die without taking one last chance to piss me off.”

Of course, even if Prescott had not intentionally made the document tedious to access, Sweettalk would not have been eager to read it.

When a loved one dies, it is very often painful for their friends and family to read the notes they left behind. Knowing that every word you read is one less new part of them that’s left out there to find makes it incredibly difficult to struggle through an entire letter. This is why, for example, someone who received a wrapped gift from a loved one who tragically died before they were able to unwrap it might leave that gift wrapped on a shelf next to a framed picture of the dear departed, looking wistfully at it every year before deciding they couldn’t bring themselves to unwrap it knowing it would be the last gift they would ever receive from that person.

This was not the situation Sweettalk found herself in. Prescott was not a loved one, not family, not a friend, not even someone whose death Sweettalk was even remotely sad about, and as she would soon find out, the note was not a heartfelt goodbye, but a screed of irritating backpedaling, self-congratulation, and one single horrible truth that made the rest of it seem paltry by comparison.

“I mean, look at this,” Sweettalk said, gesturing at the faintly glowing blue holo-screen before her, “all I ever wanted from him was to leave me alone forever, and not only does he manage to screw that up from beyond the grave, he went out of his way to make it inconvenient for me.”

“I honestly don’t even know what he has left to say to you, like,” Sasha wondered, “it’s not like you were subtle about how little he meant to you.”

There was a small ding from the holo-screen. “I guess we’re about to find out,” Sweettalk said, and the two girls pulled in close to read.

The note read:

“Mingxia:

If you’re reading this, it means I’m dead. The reason I had to use such an archaic filetype is because I needed to know I’d be able to discreetly delete the file before it was discovered if I returned from the mission safely. I did the same thing with the dossier on the Zealot. Hey, sue me, you guys took me prisoner and cut off my fingers, I think I’ve more than earned one little betrayal.

I’m not a perfect person. There’s a lot of things I’ve done that I regret, and I think I’m a big enough person to admit that. You’ve seen a lot of my mistakes, even helped me with a few of them (so, you know, keep in mind that they weren’t completely my fault, you dirty dirty criminal), but there’s one you don’t know about, and I think you’ve got a right to:

Years ago, when we were both living in Xiagu, before the plague hit, I told you that I was an adventurer, which was true. Not all of my adventures were legal, but only one of them had real consequences.

One of my adventures was a smuggling run, importing exotic fruits and vegetables into town. I mean, I was basically just a salad dealer, which is a victimless crime, but that idiot miner needed some fast cash in exchange for a brick of platinum ore he’d swiped. It took me a while to piece it together, but the ore had to be from the asteroid mining company that they traced the plague’s contagion back to. That would explain why he gave me a dose of medicine to take before I handled it, eh? The miner must have forgotten to disinfect it, and the moronic customs agent I gave it to must have forgotten to take proper safety precautions when he opened it, and from there it got into the climate control system and got everybody sick, except you and me.

You don’t see reason and you have no sense of forgiveness whatsoever, so you’ll probably try to find some way to pin the blame on me, but I can’t stress hard enough that this was not my fault. It was the miner’s fault, the customs agent’s fault, and the fault of whatever half-wits were working the climate control system after they got infected.

So, before you go throwing dirt on my memory, I hope you keep this in mind: You’d be dead if not for me. Those idiots exposed everyone to a deadly virus but you survived because I got you out of town in time. I hope you remember that before you and your little friends start disrespecting the dead. I saved your life.

Love,

Prescott Cain”

Sweettalk was shaking. Her knuckles were white and her fingernails had actually managed to draw blood on her palms. There were no tears in her eyes.

“Is he serious?!” Sasha asked, hoping that she was helping by articulating her anger while Sweettalk could not, “He thinks he saved your life?”

Sweettalk let out a very long, angry scream and swung her fist down on the table, cracking the lens of the hologram projector and shattering the image of the note into several faded shadows of the complete piece.

“This… this… MOTHERFUCKER killed my parents… he blamed them for it… and he didn’t even have the decency to let me die with them!!”

“Zee,” Sasha started, but it was no use.

“He kidnaps me and forces me to be his servant because, what, he thinks I owe him?!” Sweettalk slammed her fists again, ripped the drive containing the note out of its port, and hurled it into a nearby wall, where it shattered. She was now screaming herself hoarse. “And to top it all off, he waits until after he’s dead to tell me so I can’t even rip his fucking throat out?!”

“You’re scaring me,” Sasha said as calmly as she could, “please, have some water, or—”

“Where did you put his remains?!” Sweettalk roared. “I need to see that fucker’s lifeless head right the hell now.”

She must have known the answer, and Sasha must have known it would be pointless to try and calm her down, because they both immediately started for the infirmary. Sweettalk immediately saw the stasis jar containing Prescott’s remains and grabbed it, quickly deactivated it, and gripped it by the hair.

She held it up so she could make eye contact with it, then spoke calmly for the first time since she’d read his letter. “You. Got. Off. Easy.”

Next, she got a metal tray off a shelf and dropped the head unceremoniously onto it, then walked over to the biohazard incinerator, slotted the tray inside, and hit the button with the door still open.

The heat made her eyes feel dried out, and the smell was absolutely revolting, but it’s not like she’d be producing many tears anyway. She watched as the flesh boiled and then burnt away from the bone, and then watched as the bone cracked and collapsed until there was nothing left on the tray but a pile of gray ashes. She grabbed a nearby heat-proof glove and removed the tray.

“Can we dump this out the airlock?” She asked Sasha, starting to shake again.

Sasha grabbed another glove and took the tray from her. “I love you, you know. I’m glad you didn’t die in Xiagu.”

“I know,” Sweettalk said meekly, feeling incredibly guilty about regretting her continued life in front of the person who made it worth living more than anyone else, “I’m really sorry. I’m glad I lived to meet you, even if it meant spending a few years under the thumb of this… worthless excuse for a con artist…”

“Don’t be,” Sasha replied, “happens to the best of us. I’m going to go dump these ashes somewhere undignified, you go rest. I’ll see you at dinner, then we can watch a movie after lights-out, okay?”

Sweettalk almost smiled. “Okay,” she said, “I love you too.”