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the-rarest-sexiest-coinkydink · 2 years

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heyo, could i request a mikey x transmasc! reader (he/him) where reader is childhood friends with the ways but moved away when they were little. and then they move back to nj later mostly post-transition and mikey falls like,,, super hard?? sorry if it’s too detailed but i just really like the idea!! no pressure tho :))

New Jersey, Revisited (Mikey Way x transmasc!reader)

Summary: as above, basically :)

Word count: 5133 (yes I really enjoyed this one how can you tell)

Warnings: little bit of talk of dysphoria, one use of a deadname but not in a nasty way! It’s entirely accidental; discussion of surgery + recovery, but not in tons of graphic detail

AN: so I’ve kind of got it in my head that Mikey and (y/n) are about 25/26 (so we’re looking at the year of the ProRev tour era wise) but if you want to interpret this any other way then feel free!

(also why is naming fics so fucking hard)

The idea of coming back to live in New Jersey again was always one that made (y/n)’s heart do a little dance in his chest. Sure, the area he’d grown up was a bit of a shithole - but it was his shithole. He’d always had fond memories of the house he’d grown up in, the school he’d gone to, the friends he’d made. His older cousins that had stayed in the area had been talking about a ten year high school reunion next year, and he quite liked the idea of that. He wasn’t ten years out of high school just yet, but it also wasn’t that far away either. Maybe he’d get away with tagging along with someone else and surprising all those people he hadn’t seen since he was a teenager. Not that they would have any memory of him. For one, he’d moved away when he was thirteen, so they’d probably have forgotten about him by now. And point number two - he wasn’t the same man he was all those years ago.

Well, neither would his old classmates be. Puberty, and all that. But somehow he doubted that anyone else in his year group would have transformed in quite the same way he had.

Sweating after the exertion of moving all his boxes of crap into the right rooms in his new flat, he dug through the nearest suitcase for a clean shirt (cursing his own terrible packing skills as he did so) and tugged the other one over his head, starting a little laundry pile in the corner of the bathroom and stopping for a second to admire himself in the mirror. He really did look good. The pinkish top surgery scars decorating his chest were just over eighteen months old, and those last eighteen months had been some of the best of his life so far. Of course there had been some rough patches; post-surgery recovery sucked ass, and life couldn’t be perfect all the time. But overall, he was so much happier now than he ever had been before.

Life had just got exponentially better with every milestone in his transition, thinking about it. The first time his parents used the name he’d chosen, coming to accept him after initial confusion when he’d come out. His very first short haircut, which hadn’t exactly been stylish but he’d loved it nonetheless. His first binder, first testosterone shot, first straggly facial hair. And then top surgery had blown everything else out of the water. And he had a feeling that the next surgery on the list would have the same effect.

Thinking back on his coming out experience as he reapplied his deodorant made him laugh. His parents hadn’t really understood what he was trying to tell them - they had been wonderfully supportive, just... a little bit unsure. Around nine months after they’d moved to Chicago, he’d written them a letter in the dead of night and left it on the table so they’d wake up to it and read it without him having to be there. Which wouldn’t have been a terrible idea if his parents hadn’t entirely misread the thing. So he’d woken up to his mom sat on the end of his bed, letter in hand, a sympathetic look on her face.

“Honey, you must really miss Mikey and all your other friends back in New Jersey. I get that. But give it some time and you’ll make some nice new friends here, I promise. You’ve just got to get to know people.”

“I- huh?”

She waved the letter slightly. “You said you feel like you get on better with the boys than girls. And that’s okay! Some girls are just more comfortable around boys for a little while. Girls can be pretty bitchy.”

“No, I - I said I wanted to be a boy. Like, I’m not a girl.”

“Oh. I... Oh.” She looked back down at the paper, squinting to reread the words. “Honey your handwriting is terrible! I never would have worked that out from this.”

“Hey it’s not that bad! But... is it okay? You know, that I’m not...”

She leant over and patted his knee. “Honey, you’re you. That’s more than enough for me and your dad. Whatever you need us to change, let us know. I can’t promise we’ll remember all the time, but we’ll try our very best.”

It certainly made for a funny story to tell, anyway. And his parents had always been phenomenally supportive of him - even when he said he was moving back to New Jersey. They’d originally thought that he meant just for the duration of the recovery period after his upcoming surgery, but when they realised that he meant to move back for good they only had one thing to say: it makes sense. Over time he’d fallen in love with Chicago, but New Jersey was still home and it had always been obvious that he felt that way. And when he’d found a surgeon based out of a hospital twenty minutes away from where he’d grown up? Well, it was like fate. Clearly, the universe wanted him back in New Jersey.

As it often did when he was reminiscing about his journey, (y/n)’s mind wandered to Mikey. They’d been best friends since the day they started school, bonding over the fact that their birthdays were only a few weeks apart, and had been inseparable until the day his family moved away. Mikey had actually cried when the car pulled away, clutching the piece of paper with his closest friend’s new address on it almost as tightly as he’d hugged him. They’d been each other’s first ever sleepovers, spent years trailing around after Gerard and getting on his nerves - and once, memorably, each received a tremendous bollocking from both sets of parents after (y/n) had hidden in Mikey’s wardrobe so he didn’t have to go home when his parents came by to collect him and made everyone panic that he’d gone missing on the way back from school. No two kids could possibly have been closer.

The two of them had stayed in contact for almost a year, but as life had got in the way (and he hadn’t quite found the courage to come out, scared of how his best friend might react) the letters had slowly grown further and further apart before stopping altogether. Somewhere within his luggage, there was a shoebox full of those letters. He’d kept every single one. Every little update about what their favourite teachers were up to, every fuzzy polaroid of the rest of the gang doing whatever stupid shit they’d decided to do that day, every drawing and friendship bracelet and bad joke from a chocolate bar wrapper. He’d clung onto those little fragments of his childhood best friend like a lifeline. Part of him imagined that Mikey had done the same, thinking about him from time to time, wondering what he was up to now.

Of course, he knew exactly what Mikey was up to these days. His small town best friend in the whole wide world had gone on to become a big time rock star. How cool was that? They had always had a very similar taste in music, and so a lot of the inspirations behind My Chemical Romance were instantly obvious to him the second he put his headphones in. It felt a bit strange, calling himself a fan of the band when he’d grown up with half of the members, but he supposed that was good enough for now. The chances of the two of them ever meeting up again were incredibly low. He didn’t know if Mikey still lived in the same place, if he even still lived in New Jersey! And it wasn’t like he was going to just bump into him on the street. Coincidences like that belonged in rom-coms.

Looking around at the haphazard stack of cardboard boxes that contained his entire life, (y/n) decided that there was no way in hell he could be bothered to sort them out now. That was just far too much effort after lugging them all up the stairs. He had plenty of time to get it all sorted at a nice slow pace, so there was really no point starting right this minute. He needed a coffee.

~~~~~~~~~~

It really was nice to be home, Mikey thought as he walked through the door of his favourite coffee shop and got in the queue. Even if home meant being sworn at by people if he walked a bit too close and fearing for his life every time he crossed the road. There was a sweet familiarity that came with the grimy streets, and he honestly wouldn’t trade it for the world. It did feel strange being back, finally standing still after what had felt like two months of constant moving. He loved touring, but it really did suck the life out of him sometimes. Two months of crap motels, raging hangovers and constant performance was the perfect combination for exhaustion, and he was really looking forward to the time off. It was the little things that made him smile, too. Like being back in his favourite place, that tiny cafe that in his opinion did the best coffee in the world. He’d spent countless hours in there, listening to the rain against the windows while he read a book or watched Gerard sketch. It was it’s own peaceful little bubble.

He ordered his usual when he got to the counter, fighting back the blush that threatened to paint his cheeks as the cute barista smiled up at him. Thankfully his favourite table was clear, and he kept an eye on it while he was waiting. The little table in the corner with the slightly wonky leg was where Gerard had taken him and his best friend for their first ever coffee when they were ten. They’d both sworn not to tell their parents, but that had gone straight out of the window when they’d taken her home - she’d practically been buzzing. That memory always made him smile, the way she’d bounced on her toes and the look on his big brother’s face that very clearly said, ‘I’m so fucked’.

He thought about his childhood best friend a lot, these days. So much had happened in his life since she’d moved away, stuff that the two of them had daydreamed about as kids, staring up at shapes in the clouds and wondering what they’d be when they grew up. He wondered if she even remembered him. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to forget her.

Lost a little in thought as he took his drink and started forwards to go to his table, he bumped into someone. It wasn’t exactly a high impact collision - the coffee in his mug barely rippled - but the effect it had on his heart was seismic. Standing at his shoulder, a mixture of pure shock and embarrassment on his face, was the prettiest man Mikey had ever seen. If you had asked a younger, much more Catholic Mikey, what he thought angels looked like, he probably would have described the exact face that was now staring up at him. His tongue tripped over the words as he tried to apologise, barely aware that the man next to him was examining every detail of his face in sheer wonder.

“God, I am so sorry! Are you okay? I- I didn’t see you, I was- I... thinking a little too hard, sorry. I should’ve looked where I was going.”

Feeling like all the air had left his lungs, (y/n) managed a nod. “Yeah, I- I’m fine. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Didn’t even spill my drink, so...” He trailed off, something nagging at the back of his mind. As he tried to put his finger on what was catching his attention it darted away, like a fish clever enough to avoid a lured hook. He just couldn’t work out what it was; he wanted to put it down to the sheer beauty of the man before him, but a part of his brain was screaming that there was something more than that. “I... I’m sorry, do I know you? You look kinda familiar, but... I’m not great with faces.”

A smile caught at the edges of his mouth; he was going to have a little fun with this. Why wouldn’t he? Hundreds of times over the years he’d dreamt about what it would be like to swan into a room of his old classmates, watching them fawn over the teen heartthrob he’d become without realising who he’d been before, then basking in their reactions when he told them. Now, he was getting to play that out in real life for the very first time.

“Uh, yeah, I’m pretty sure we have met. I’m not great with names though, so... sorry.”

“Oh it’s okay. I’m Mikey.” He didn’t notice the little glimmer of emotion in the shorter man’s eyes. “I... wait. Hold up just a second, I do know you! You, uh, you’re one of (deadname)’s cousins, right? I think we met at someone’s birthday party.”

Somehow, his old name coming out of Mikey’s mouth didn’t make him as uncomfortable as he thought it might. He didn’t hate his dead name, not really; while some of the kids at school had been assholes about it for a while before getting bored with harassing him and moving on to some other poor sucker, his parents had never once used it against him maliciously. So while there was some discomfort there, it wasn’t as bad as the feelings that some of his trans friends had surrounding their deadnames. Perhaps it was the context, though: the fact he’d assumed that he was one of his own cousins was a shot of gender euphoria stronger than any liquor.

“Well, you’re almost there, so, uh, you get points for trying. But... I haven’t used that name in a good few years. I’ve been (y/n) since I was 14.”

Mikey’s jaw dropped, and he put his coffee down with enough force that it slopped a little over the side. His hands moved to (y/n)’s cheeks, squishing them gently the way he’d always done when they’d made fun of each other as kids. He moved to do the same back, the tears finally spilling over. “Hiya Mikes.”

In the space of a second, Mikey was hugging him tightly enough to crush some ribs, sniffling into his shoulder just as he had done on that day so many years ago. He smelled almost exactly the same, that soft note of cotton scented deodorant mixed with laundry powder and minty shower gel, dashed with something that was so unique to his best friend that he’d know it a hundred miles away. (y/n)’s hands splayed across his back in the same way they always had, his forehead pressed against Mikey’s neck. He’d always felt safe like that, listening to the thrum of his heart beneath his skin, feeling his breath on the top of his head. When he was with Mikey, the rest of the world just slid away. He was glad that that had stayed the same after so long, too.

The barista set (y/n)’s coffee down at the end of the counter, smiling softly at the obvious emotional moment going on before shifting the rest of the queue ever so slightly so that they wouldn’t block people’s way.

He pulled back, eyes glittering with disbelief as he tested the new name on his tongue. “(y/n)... (y/n). God, that suits you so well. You... you look amazing.”

“Yeah? You’ve grown up pretty well yourself.” Blushing deeply at his compliment, he allowed himself to stare at Mikey properly. He really had matured, growing into those pretty cheekbones magnificently. All those times he’d imagined what his best friend might look like now, and he’d never quite pictured him like this. But looking at him now, it all made sense. And the raging crush that he’d had when he was twelve years old came back, crashing down on him like a ton of bricks.

Little did he know, the exact same thoughts were going through Mikey’s head. He was astounded by how much he’d changed - and yet, how much he’d stayed the same. The shorter haircut fit his facial features so well, and his style was pretty much the same as it had always been; it just framed him so much better now. He was head over heels, and there was no hope of denying it. If Gerard walked in right now, he’d instantly jump to making the exact same jokes he always made about Mikey having a crush - without even realising that he was joking about the exact same person, over a decade later.

“Dude, please tell me you’ve got time to sit down.”

“For you? Always.”

Finally picking up their coffees the two of them headed over to the corner table, settling opposite each other and grinning wide enough to split their faces in two. They were both taller than they had been the last time they’d sat here; their knees were squished together under the table. The two of them started talking at the same time, giggling as their words overlapped before stopping for a second.

“You go.”

“No, you can start.”

“No, you go first.”

The bickering took them straight back to old times, and soon the conversation was flowing like water. It didn’t seem possible to cover over a decade of separation in as much detail as they both needed, but they certainly tried their best.

“So, yeah. The FBI came round.”

“You were fifteen?”

“Yeah.”

“Your mom must have wanted to kill you!”

“Oh she did... I still got to go the gigs though. That Pumpkins tour was insane.”

When they got round to the story of (y/n)’s transition, Mikey had tons of questions to ask. Like everyone else, he found his coming out story hilarious - and knowing his mom personally made it even funnier. When he talked about his voice cracking after getting on testosterone, the only thing Mikey could say was, “Now you know how I felt! I wish I’d been there to give you the same shit you gave me.”

He smiled softly, hands wrapped around his mug. “Yeah, I wish you’d been there too. I’ve missed you a lot, you know.”

“I’ve missed you too. I don’t know if I can describe just how much, but...” Trailing off, Mikey pushed back the sleeve of his hoodie, revealing the tatty band of coloured string around his left wrist. “I’ve worn this since you sent it to me. It hasn’t come off once.”

Mouth hanging open, (y/n) pulled his hand closer to take a better look. Both men tried their hardest not to show just how wonderful it felt to hold the other’s hand, but when (y/n) pushed his own sleeve back to show the matching friendship bracelet, just as ragged and grubby as Mikey’s, the two of them cried almost enough to refill their empty coffee cups.

It took (y/n) a few tries to choke the words out through the tears. “I thought... I thought maybe you would’ve forgotten about me.”

“Never. No way.” Mikey squeezed his hand, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “You’re the one person I could never forget. Not in a million years.”

“I only ever took this off once, you know.”

“A whole once?” He managed a laugh, rolling his eyes. “Wow, I see how it is.”

“Hey, it wasn’t exactly my idea!” (y/n) scoffed, whacking him softly. “I wasn’t allowed to have it on when I went in for top surgery, something about an infection risk. My mom was there when I woke up after, and apparently the first thing I said was, and I quote-” He paused, taking a deep breath for effect. “If anyone touches my damn bracelet, I’ll eat their balls.”

Mikey cackled so hard he almost fell out of his chair, clutching at his ribs as he wheezed. “You’d eat their balls?”

“Shut up, I was doped up on painkillers! I don’t even remember it happening.” When Mikey continued laughing, he grabbed a packet of sugar from the little tub on the table and tossed it at his face. “I bet you say stupid things when you’re drunk too.”

“Well...”

The two of them sat there trading stories about being in My Chemical Romance and working as a photographer at concerts until the cafe closed, apologising profusely to the very amused barista as they watched her switch all the machines off, then the lights.

Mikey offered to walk (y/n) home, both of them delighted to find out that they only lived a five minute walk away from each other. They traded phone numbers at the door to (y/n)’s apartment building and were texting before he’d even got in the elevator, elated to finally be back in each others lives. Neither man had wanted to say goodbye, but the promise of seeing each other again tomorrow kept them going. After so long, the thought of missing out on anything else was too much to bear.

~~~~~~~~~~

And so three weeks later, as he set his bag down in the little stand next to the hospital bed, (y/n) shot a quick text to Mikey.

Hey! Won’t be around today - I’m having the ol’ baby-making kit removed up at the hospital this morning. I’m pretty sure I told you about that but if I didn’t... well, I just did! Anyway, I’ll be pretty sleepy post-op, and the doctors have told me I’ll have to take it easy for a while, so I’ll catch up with you in a few days, yeah? Say hi to your mom for me!

The two of them had spent at least fifteen of the last twenty-one days in each other’s company in one way or another, whether it was at someone’s flat or out for coffee or wandering around the comic book store for hours on end. It was a shame that he probably wouldn’t see him for another week or so, given that he had mentioned a couple of interviews that had been scheduled for the band. But the doctors had told him in no uncertain terms that he’d have to take it easy for at least four or five days, to give the incision a chance to start healing before putting it through too much stress. So he’d have to settle for texting, just for a little while.

Careful to put his bracelet in the safest place possible, (y/n) slipped quickly into the hospital gown and stuck his head out from around the curtain.

“Okay! I’m good to go.”

When he woke three hours later, groggy and aware of a slight pulling sensation across his stomach, he certainly hadn’t expected to also feel a hand tucked into one of his. Careful not to sit up just yet, he glanced down - smiling at the sight of his bracelet, back where it belonged. And a very familiar person sitting in the chair next to his bed.

Spotting the little movement, Mikey squeezed his hand, grinning. “Couldn’t have you threatening to eat anyone’s balls this time.”

“Much appreciated.”

“How are you feeling? And you didn’t tell me before, by the way, so I freaked the fuck out reading that earlier.”

He laughed slightly, wincing a little as the pulling sensation got stronger. “Sorry. But hey, no more uterus. That’s pretty fucking cool.”

“Yeah, it sure is.” He stroked across the back of his hand, careful not to knock the cannula where it was taped in place. “Do you want me to get a nurse? Tell someone you’re awake?”

“Nah, they’ll find out eventually.” His eyes slid closed again, heavy with the weight of anaesthesia. “You being here is enough right now.”

Mikey tried to tell himself that it was just the meds talking, but he couldn’t help but feel a little giddy at those words. He was ridiculously, stupendously, immeasurably in love with his best friend, and right now he wanted the whole world to know it. Ideally he’d tell him first, of course, but that required being brave. And he really didn’t know if now was the right time.

Inhibitions steamrollered by the remaining drugs in his system, (y/n) had no such problem, and just kept rambling on. “Y’know, I’m so glad I found you again.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Thought I was gonna have to make do with committing all your bass lines to memory. This is so much better.”

“You know, I’d always wondered whether you’d find out about the band or not. Every time I get on stage, I imagine you being in the crowd, having the best time. Maybe I can bring you to a show someday.”

“Oh, I’d love that.” He nodded thoughtfully, still holding Mikey’s hand. “But I would be happy anywhere as long as I was with you.”

“You would?”

“Mhm.” He yawned, stretching his neck gently. “Don’t you ever go anywhere without me ever again, Mikey Way. You’re my everything.”

“I... I am?” That pretty much sounded like a confession to him, and his heart ached against his ribs as he tried to scrape together the courage to say something back.

But as he took his first deep breath, (y/n) had already drifted back to sleep.

When he woke again an hour and a half later, he had zero recollection of the conversation they’d had. Mikey was very quick to realise this, given the way his face lit up at the sight of the little friendship bracelet.

“Aww, did you put that back? Thank you. And thank you for being here.”

“Hey, I’d do anything for you.” Knowing that really, it was now or never, he decided to take the plunge. “So, you were awake earlier. Do you remember anything from that?”

“I was awake?” (y/n) frowned, thinking for a second before shaking his head. “I don’t remember being awake.”

“I didn’t think you would. You, uh... you weren’t making much sense, but there was one thing I did pick out.”

“Mhm?” All of a sudden, anxiety clawed at his veins. What had he said? Had he confessed the way he felt? Was this Mikey’s way of telling him that he wasn’t comfortable being friends any more because of it?

“So I needed to tell you...” He paused for a second, taking (y/n)’s other hand in his free one and bringing it to his lips. “You’re my everything too. I... God, I am so in love with you it doesn’t even feel real. I’ve been in love with you since I was eleven years old, and you going away tore me apart. And now you’re home again, and you’re you, and it’s the most incredible thing. I thought those feelings had gone away, but... they’re so strong. You’ve still got that stupid sense of humour, and amazing taste in music, and you’ve gone from being that crazy tiny kid to the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. I love you so much.”

(y/n) was entirely speechless for a few moments, struggling to comprehend exactly what was going on. Was he dreaming this? Was this the anaesthesia playing tricks, lighting up the sleeping parts of his brain and sending his mind on a wild goose chase? But no. The feeling of Mikey’s breath, warm against his cold knuckles, was enough to prove that this had to be real. And he damn well knew what he was going to do about it.

He started to sit up very slowly, not wanting burst stitches to ruin the moment. Mikey tried to stop him, eyes watery as he waited anxiously for a response but still more concerned with his safety. “What- what are you doing?”

“Something I should’ve done a very long time ago.”

And, as gently as he could, (y/n) kissed him.

The sensation made the emotions they both felt upon coming back to New Jersey seem miniscule, insignificant. It couldn’t possibly matter where in the world they were, as long as they had each other. Careful to avoid the new wounds, Mikey settled one hand on (y/n)’s thigh and the other on the back of his neck, keeping him as close as he dared as they drank each other in. This was everything he’d dreamed of. For now, he had no intentions of telling the other man that he’d been the subject of every wet dream, the thought fuelling every hasty wank. No intentions of telling him that he’d pictured them meeting again, falling in love, spending the rest of their lives together. No intentions of telling him that instead of a prom date, he’d taken a Polaroid of the two of them and kept it in his pocket the whole night, never dancing with anybody else.

And of course, (y/n) definitely wasn’t going to tell him that his was the name he whispered in the dead of night, fingers finding all the right places and wondering what it would feel like if they belonged to him. Definitely wouldn’t reveal that he’d slept with the shirt that he’d given him as a goodbye present every day for three whole years after moving away, desperately needing him to be back by his side. Definitely wasn’t going to share that every time he’d seen a couple walking down the street, he’d pictured it as if it was the two of them instead.

Not yet, anyway. All those stories could wait for later - they had forever to spare. For now, the only thing that mattered was the way their lips felt against each other, like they’d been designed solely for the other to appreciate. Like they’d been made for each other right from the very start.

Well, (y/n) thought as they broke apart for air, foreheads pressed together and hands stroking sides. Eleven year old me is definitely punching the air right now.

“I love you too, idiot.”

“R-really?” The hope in Mikey’s eyes was brighter than the stage lights he was still so uneasy performing under, shining as (y/n) cupped his face. He moved to do the same, smiling as he rolled his eyes.

“The kiss wasn’t enough to prove it, huh?”

“I don’t know man. Maybe it’s best that you do it again.”

(y/n) grinned as he leant back in. “Well I guess I’ll have to, won’t I? Because I don’t plan on letting you out of my sight any time soon.”

“Oh, what a shame.”

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yume-fanfare · 1 year

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Don't ask what brough this on this is very silly but Torikasa knight/princess fairytale au where Tsukasa is a knight of noble origin and there's these rumours about how "the princess of the neighbouring country has been kidnapped by a vicious dragon and is held captive in his tower" so he sets out to save him (I haven't worked that part out yet it really is mostly just pulled out of a basic fairytale plot idk) only to find out that the "damsel in distress" is actually doing just fine and he's not in fact held captive and the dragon is his butler and the rumours are a complete exaggeration

!!!!! YES

i'd love keeping their childhood friendship so when tsukasa breaks through the window it's "TSUKASA???" "TORI-KUN??????" and for yuzuru to be in his human form so it's not immediately obvious what's going on and tsukasa is Confused. but well he's already come all the way there so tori lets him stay over for a while and makes him fix the window himself "no! you Cannot hire a carpenter i do not want any strangers at my house!" and tsukasa sucks at fixing windows sooo bad so it takes a while and at one point tori begins to give him more meaningless tasks to keep him around for a little longer, and tsukasa also starts making up things to do. to serve as compensation of course it's not like either of them want to be together for longer than strictly necessary it's just that tsukasa's knightly honor wouldn't allow him to have an unpaid debt

but tsukasa does think it is a little weird you know. tori-kun the brat living alone with his butler in a manor in the middle of nowhere in the forest something Must be going on. when had tori rejected the liveliness of the capital for this? it had been a while since tsukasa had heard about him from other nobles but since he'd been away traveling he hadn't thought too much of it. and then one night he hears a way too loud noise and finds tori kneeling beside The Dragon. who is wounded and tori is crying and asking tsukasa not to come any closer.

and also at some point knights should come over all "ok we let our dearest baby go on a quest on his own but he is taking forever and omg i can't believe he's been living in a fancy house with a CUTE BOY and he didnt tell us" and then it's all loud and fun as it always is when knights are together

and i think they're probably at the forest to be near the witch's house (natsume) who has been helping yuzuru with the dragon thing but at some point it gets harder to control and so they need to call natsume's master for help and yay! wataru time! i love adding as many people as possible to fantasy aus

#torikasa #enstars #starpros sunshine #preguntas #trks fantasy au

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quill-is-brainstorming · 1 year

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So today I have unlocked what is basically a core childhood memory from my epics class (not even literature class, we Italians just straight up have epics class and it's awesome) in middle school and I think it's very worth sharing.

Basically the way said class worked is that we would do something different each year. On the last and third year we did the Odyssey, on the year before that we did the Iliad, but I realised I didn't quite remember what epic we did during the first year.

So yeah I thought about it a little harder and then I immediately remembered: it was The Boy and the Lyre!

Now, you're probably scratching your head in confusion at that, and I don't blame you because for whatever reason it has never been translated to English. Which frankly sucks.

But what's the book about?

Well, it's basically a mashup of lesser known Greek myths intertwined with the story of a young Homer travelling to Mount Olympus with his cantor mentor.

The reason I remember this book so fondly though is because I remember it going pretty in-depth in explaining cantor culture in ancient Greece (and just ancient greek culture as a whole): what they did, what their role in society was, how they worshipped Apollo and the Muses and all that jazz and it was super interesting and awesome.

And yeah, I started searching mine and my brother's room looking for it and unfortunately my search proved to be fruitless...

Good news though: I found my old copy of the Iliad! :D

This thing has apparently been sitting on a shelf for the past 5 years or so, but I have it now and it has been safely placed next to my copy of the Aeneid on a different shelf. Yay. Now I'm only missing my copy of the Odyssey but I have absolutely no clue of where it could be-

But yeah, I'll try to look for The Boy and the Lyre again on the weekend. Worst case scenario, I think there's a pdf of it online. Either way, take this as a warning that I will find a way to post a mega rant about cantor culture from ancient Greece and you can't stop me.

#ancient greek mythology #greek mythology #the iliad #trojan war #quill screeches

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dokidokidemons · 2 months

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My typical way of experiencing... well, everything, if we're honest... is to avoid having any expectations. It's something I learned how to do, and I stick to it pretty well. While it was originally mostly a bulwark against a chaotic childhood making my lil autistic ass have to figure out how to do without any sort of routine, the most profound effect it has these days is drastically increasing my enjoyment of media.

The only time I find myself disappointed with something, in that sense, is when they do something that it literally would have been better to have done nothing at all. Solmare has managed to do this a few times.

And YET. Here I am. I think so much about Obey Me that I can't help but speculate, and I've gone and got my hopes up because I've realized that there are some really fucking cool things they could do. I'm feverish, so this might get long... gunna put it under a cut.

So. I started playing the OG Obey Me about a year and a half ago. The fourth season either came out right as I started, or was already out. I never was really effected by the wait time for the next season drop, and the limbo that left fans in, so I get that my perspective is different than most.

But my perspective is this: they had a cool story with some neat concepts, both story-wise meta game stuff, but the game play was so ass it could barely be called game play, the balancing is insane (I've scraped through the main story using countless glow sticks but most of the extra lessons are still beyond me will full teams of lvl 100+ cards), and they'd written themselves into several corners they didn't know how to get out of.

Then they released Nightbringer. It has it's issues, sure, but as a game? I enjoy it about 1000% more than OG. The story is one of being thrown back in time and trying to find your way home, which we managed last chapter. On April 13th, the game will have been out one year. I think that's when they'll drop the next season but...

It would be so wildly cool if they also merged the games. The MC's just returned to the timeline from OG, supposedly, though hadn't Solomon suggested that... y'know, everyone had noticed you disappearing? OG is at it's end of life. It's pretty clear they're going to shut it down at some point. I want, so so so badly, for 4/13 to hit, a massive update to be available, and the entirety of OG's story line to have been ported to NB. I want the accounts to merge together. I want to have all my cards and I want there to be a new Nightmare chapter with all the old cards from OG and I want the plot moving forward to be a mess of scrambled timeline shit, trying to figure out who NB is, and stress. From a game dev perspective, they have the chance to do something so so wildly awesome and I KNOW they won't. I KNOW I'm going to be disappointed. But FUCK it'd be cool...

I have so many ideas on how it could be done... and I'm well aware it'd probably piss a lot of people off still, but people are pissed off anyways. I think it'd make more people happy than it did angry.

And I know some people don't like Ruri-tunes but like... at least it's a game. I'm no huge fan of rhythm games tbh. I honestly hated them before Ruri-tunes, but I disliked the dance battles so much that I've started liking rhythm games more just because it was suck an upgrade imo

Anyways. That's the end of my rant. I want them to do meta shit that ties into their story basically. Thank you for coming to Mal's fever talk.

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queer-crusader · 1 year

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I'm gonna talk about weight for a sec. I don't like to do it or focus on it bc I don't think it should be a focal point of my thoughts or conversations (in fact I viscerally hate it as a topic most times bc I've seen what obsessing over it can do), hence me never talking about it, but I'm gonna do it now anyway bc I had a dawning realisation.

During my childhood and teen years, I played badminton. I played it three times a week, including regional competitions. It is a big stamina sport and I was FIT. I was also young so I probably had a naturally faster metabolism just due to my age.

But when I moved out and went off to college and uni, I stopped playing. Access to local clubs was harder, or it collided with other things I gave priority, I didn't know the other club members, had a whole new life routine, etc etc etc. Many different reasons. But I stopped exercising. I tried the gym for a little while, but. Well. ADHD. Routines are a BITCH and there is NOTHING compelling about the gym, not in the way badminton is. There is a vast difference between playing a game without even thinking of exercise, and exercising for the sake of exercise. Boring. The brain won't allow it.

On top of this, my diet changed from homemade meals from scratch with plenty of healthy ingredients, to ready-made meals, takeout, and eventually some alcohol a couple of times a week when I started drinking (took me a while to start drinking, but I got there in the end - student life in Scotland caught up to me). Processed foods, burgers and chips and pizza and beer etc all became a more regular part of life.

And when I tell you I gained weight in my student years, I mean it. I went from 65kg to close to 90kg in the span of 6 years. I wasn't very happy about it, but I didn't often make it a massive focus in my mind, bc I didn't want to focus on weight (and I'm kinda glad for it - it's easy to hyperfixate on things like that, and that could've gotten mentally very unhealthy. In my most depressive period, my weight and stress eating did get to me, and I was mentally beating myself up on the regular for a brief period. It hurt. It sucked). I did try especially during my later uni years to be a little more healthy every now and then, but again, little to no exercise + intense study/work load and an increase in anxiety (when I tell you Brexit fucked me up a little mentally I'm not joking) did not help me to have the energy to cook for myself several times a week.

Now here's the kicker. I've graduated and gone home again, back to my parents. I'm still not properly exercising (aka no gym or badminton), but I am walking and cycling more, and my diet has gone back to what it was - cooked meals that are almost guaranteed to be healthier than junk food, not too many snacks, less alcohol intake now that I'm doing better mentally. I'm not actively trying to lose weight. I'm not dieting, I'm not hitting the gym three times a week. I'm just living my life in a way that is better for me mentally and I'm taking things easy.

And in the 2.5 years that I've been home, I've dipped under 80kg. I rarely check my weight - again, I don't like to preoccupy myself with it - but this morning the scales said 78.6kg. Basically a 10kg difference from my heaviest point in life during my student years. (I don't think I weighed that much when I came home, I think my weight was already slowly going down during those last uni years). And while I don't want to conflate weight and numbers with health, especially not generalised health (what may be a "healthy" weight for me is either far too much or far too little for someone else), I am glad to see it.

Why?

Because I'm not burning it off. I'm not pushing my body through starvation and intense exercise. I'm not forcing any yo-yo effects or whatever. I'm simply seeing the result that comes from a healthier lifestyle, and I am happy to see it happen so gradually. Life is a marathon, not a sprint. I don't need to be skinny tomorrow. I don't WANT to be skinny tomorrow (or in a year's time). I just wanna be healthy. I know I was healthy when I was 16, and while I know I'll likely never go back to physically being how I was back then (which is okay), sometimes I do wish I was a bit closer to those days. And knowing I'm closer now than I was 4 years ago is nice.

But the number on the scales isn't a goal for me, and it never will be. Nor is my circumference or size or whatever. My goal is to feel fit, rejuvenated, healthy. The number on the scales is just a more visible sign that my patterns and self-care have changed. That, spread over time, bodies change. That even little things have an effect on us. That I don't have to put my body through hell to be "healthy". And that is quite a soothing thought.

I intend to live a calm and (for me) healthy life. And for that, I've got all the time in the world.

#anne speaks #tw body image #tw weight #no but seriously. i have time. life is longer than you think. some things are simply gradual and that is okay #of course this doesnt go for everyone - some people have conditions that make losing or even gaining weight impossible #this post is not about people with other bodies or chronic illnesses. this post is about ME. MY body.#if anyone takes it out of that context and decides to give me hell for it: COMPREHENSIVE READING. IM BEGGING YOU.

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saevus-brutalis · 2 years

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oc interview questions —

██-██ 2077 lead interviewer: [REDACTED] >> main video file corrupted [̲̅███_̲̅_̲̅] 30% partial reconstruction complete. wasn't tagged by anyone but it looked fun so 😌

Name?

V. [The interviewer leans forward, gesticulating for him to continue.] Just V.

Are you single?

[He rises an eyebrow, clearly not amused. It seems like he was expecting that question.] Yes, but don’t get your hopes up. I’m not interested.

Are you happy?

Point me to someone that is. But no, can't say that I am.

Are you angry?

[Shrugs] It's a well-known feeling to me. Used to experience it more commonly in the past. There are a lot of things to be angry about. The state of this shithole, ever-rising rent prices, crappy food, even crappier people…

Interviewer: And are you angry right now?

Trust me, you don't want to find out.

Are your parents still married?

[Silence, dark eyes dart to the side, jaw appears to be clenched.] No. Hard to be married if you’re dead. [He shrugs, acting nonchalant.] She never took his last time, didn’t want to be tied down like a dog on a leash. Good for her, honestly. Think she wanted to file for a divorce, too. She was just too late.

Interviewer: Let's start with some basics.

Birthplace?

Here.

Interviewer: Here?

[Sighs] Night City, born and bred. Grew up here, probably will die here. Corpo Plaza was my playground, not an idea place to rise a kid, but where, here, is really? Haywood was my true training ground. I’ve lived all over - different neighborhoods, states, countries, different military camps. Yet I always find myself back here, back in NC.

Hair color?

Black. All natural. Started graying like 8 years ago maybe, used to try and dye them to hide it, but I gave up after a year or two. Couldn’t be fucking bothered, really. Besides, I’ve heard people were into silver foxes these days.

Eye color?

Used to be green. Had my mother’s eyes. Beautiful shade, people always complimented her. Me too if I’m being honest, always ignored them though. Sometimes I regret ever getting optics. But I had to, it was in the job description. Now I can’t imagine having ‘ganic ones. And I don’t think I could bare her looking back at me every time I stare in the mirror to shave.

Birth day?

November 12th, you can tell I’m a scorpio.

Interviewer: And what year were you born?

2019. Just before the Fourth Corp Wars. Weird times, but I can’t really remember shit aside from the red sky. Put my childhood way behind me. Stopped celebrating my birthday a long time ago too. No one to celebrate with either, aside a handful of friends, but it’s only just beer at my place anyway.

Mood?

Indifferent. Tired, mostly. Nothing a good hookup can’t fix.

Gender?

Born male, identify as a man. It’s not something I really questioned ever. Always have been comfortable with my body and masculinity. Never lost touch with my feminine side though, [He gestures at his painted nails, silver jewelry, piercings, and smudged eye makeup] guess I got it from my ma.

Summer or winter?

Winter, full stop. Ever seen snow? Best shit ever. Too bad it never snows here. Sometimes I wish I stayed on that mountain and never came back. I’d rather freeze there than sweat my balls off in the summer in Cali. Funny, considering I still live here and don’t plan on moving any time soon.

Morning or afternoon?

Early mornings beat everything. Before the sun even rises. It’s calm, quiet, everyone’s still asleep. It’s when I feel the most rested, even when I haven’t slept the whole night. Yoga sesh on the balcony during the sunrise gotta be the best way to start your day.

Interviewer: Not, let's get a little bit more personal. Some listeners are dying to know these questions.

Are you in love?

Yeah. After forty years still am. It’s mostly repressed by now. ‘m trying not to think about that.

Do you believe in love at first sight?

Yeah. Fell victim to it four decades ago. It sucks, hurts when shit doesn’t go your way and I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone, but fuck if it isn’t the best fucking feeling ever in the beginning stage.

Who ended your last relationship?

We both did. ‘‘twas a mutual decision. We split on good terms. Still got his number on speed dial. We don’t talk much these days, too busy, proud, or butthurt over the whole situation. But we’re still friends, yeah.

Are you afraid of commitments?

Again, who isn’t? Hard to trust people these days, in my line of work especially. Too many secrets, too many money-hungry people willing to take advantage and sell you out for a quick buck. Takes too much time too, committing to someone I mean. If we haven’t known each other for at least a full year I don’t trust you enough to have my number. With some exceptions, of course.

Have you hugged someone within the last week?

Yeah, my friend and ripper. We served two tours together, guy’s been having a rough time lately. Came over with a couple of beers, then couple of beers turned into more beers, and you know what intoxication does to people. Don’t regret it, seemed like both of us needed it.

Have you ever had a secret admirer?

People aren’t too secretive about being a fan - or rather an admirer as you called them - of me online, that’s for sure. Can you believe they’ve made a forum dedicated to me? Yeah, me neither. I don’t know why these kids choose to spend their free time documenting my life, achievements, writing down every piece of clothing I wore and what’s my coffee order, but as long as it’s something as innocent as that I don’t really mind. I don’t have it as bad as some BD stars, I hope at least. Some of the candid pictures they take of me look really good I can give them that. And don’t even get me started about video edits I’ve seen resurface here and there.

Once I had someone send me a package to my private home address, no idea how they found it, glad it was the only instance and it never happened again. If anything I value my privacy and I rather not have an obsessive stalker sending me love letters. Online forums? Be my guest, but don’t go digging too deep, I know my fair share of netrunners.

Have you ever broken your own heart?

Yeah. It was a choice. A stupid one. I could’ve avoided it, but I was young and dumb, a scared nineteen year old. But what’s past is past. Hard to tell if I ever recover but you gotta move forward. I wouldn’t have gotten this far had I been stuck dwelling on the past. There’s not a day I don’t regret doing what I did, the broken heart is very much deserved.

Interviewer: Okay, that was intense. Let's cool off with some light 'this or that' questions.

Love or lust?

Love, easy. I’m too old to rely on lust, learned that the hard way. In short: been there, done that. All of my hookups were fueled by lust, there was no love there. You can only enjoy lustful relationships so long before it starts wearing you down. It fades quickly, doesn’t fulfill you, makes you feel empty.

Lemonade or iced tea?

Iced tea. It’s the closest thing to iced coffee. And you can always add lemon to your tea. So many types of tea too. Lemonade is too plain and most of the synth stuff tastes like ass anyway.

Cats or dogs?

Cats. Don’t get me wrong I love my dog, love going on a run with him, but I’ve always been a cat person, would choose to reincarnate as one, a black panther perhaps? They seem to like me too, while some dogs snarl and bark. People say I give off tiger vibes, maybe that’s what I was in my past life.

A few best friends or many regular friends?

A few best friends. You can never be too careful picking who you choose to hang out with, trust enough to lower your guard. Too many fake people, all too eager to stab you in the back when you’re least expecting it. Lived long enough to know, when it comes to people - the less is better.

Wild night out or romantic night in?

Mix of both you can say. My job gives me enough wildness as is. In NC everything happens fast, so a chill night in is a nice change of pace. It’s more private too. But I won’t say no to blowing shit up in the air or wild chases with the cops - that’s what a good night out is, right?

Day or night?

Night. There’s a reason I’ve stayed in NC as long as I did - it’s the city lights. There ain’t nothing more beautiful than Nigh City, well… at night. The air is cooler, you can’t see the grime and smog, only the neon lights. It’s when the freaks come out, it’s when you can get your hands on the best food, best drugs, best guns. Nighttime here has its charm and it definitely charmed me.

Interview: Now for the classics. Have you ever...

Been caught sneaking out?

When I still lived with my dad, sure, a couple of times. It was my stepmom who would always catch me, my dad more rarely, he was out of the house most of the time, always working late shifts. Chalice she… Was always home, monitoring me ever since she moved in. It was hard in the beginning but once I had figured out her schedule it was much easier to sneak out, especially at night.

When I was in boarding school maybe once or twice, but never again after that. It’s where I mastered the art of not getting caught. And as you can see - it worked, I’m still here.

Fallen down/up the stairs?

My room was downstairs, never had any reason to go up to my parents' bedroom, especially after my mom passed. Definitely did when I was a kid, now not really. I trip sometimes over my cat when walking down the stairs but never fall down. The artificially boosted reflexes are a lifesaver.

Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt?

Someone, rather than something. Nowadays if I want something I just get it and if I can’t, I get over it. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be mine. But I did, I did want someone bad, still do. And yes, it still hurts.

Wanted to disappear?

More times than I can recall. It’s a constant thought, something I’m going over with my counsellor every now and again. I did disappear for a few years back in 2046 - went totally off the radar. It wasn’t planned or anything. Pretty sure I was pronounced legally dead by the time I came back in 2051. Sometimes I do wish to leave, have any trace of me wiped, I feel like I’ve done enough damage here.

Interviewer: Now, for those who still have their hopes up, despite you saying you’re not looking for a relationship. Tell me…

Smile or eyes?

Smile. The eyes can be changed, switched and swapped. Too many Kiroshi models available on the market to count.

Shorter or taller?

Pretty much everyone is shorter than me. I prefer people close to my size. As long as I don’t have to physically bend to be on the head level with someone, its alright. However I do prefer tall people, someone I can look in the eyes.

Intelligence or attraction?

It’s all about vibes, man. I can be into a dumb hot himbo as much as into a mildly attractive genius, babbling about quantum physics like it’s his entire personality. If the conversation’s flowing and you’ve piqued my interest I don’t care for neither, as long as the sex is good.

Hook-up or relationship?

Both, neither. Hookups get the job done. It’s nice while it lasts. Clouds work for me too, it’s just a transaction, no feelings, zero expectations. Relationships on the other hand - I got burned too many times. Been in two serious ones and I don’t think I have the strength for another one. Not for a while at least.

Interviewer: You don't talk much about your family, do you? Mind if I ask you a few questions about them?

Do you and your family get along?

No. I’ve gone no contact since I got my first job and moved out at 21. It’s not like they bothered to reach out either. Dad died in ‘69. Wasn’t welcomed to his funeral but I went anyway, wanted to see the dead bastard one last time. He’s still out there somewhere, copied his psyche onto a shard; some corps have him stashed away behind sealed doors.

Was never close with my dad’s side of the family, definitely wasn’t close with his latest spouse. Never knew my grandparents or my mom’s cousins, all lived in Geneva, not once have they visited the States. My mom’s older brother on the other hand - the black sheep of the family - met him a few times, we don’t keep in contact however. He shut down after her death, scurrying off to the Badlands, cooking skiff is his trailer. He’s alright, one last person I can call family, really. Besides my stepsister. She’s the only person I truly get along with, only family member I care for. Never knew I had a sister until she turned 7. We keep in contact daily.

Would you say you have a “messed up life”?

Yes. Definitely. Climbing to the top of the food chain takes a lot of sacrifices. Still question if it all was worth it.

Have you ever run away from home?

Yeah. Went through my rebel teenage era, running away for a few day and crashing at my friend’s house or my then-boyfriend’s camp. I would do and go anywhere to just be out of the house. I was a total edge-lord back then.

Have you ever gotten kicked out?

Technically yes, by my dad when he sent me away to the boarding school. But no, not really.

Interviewer: What about your friends? Even a dangerous veteran solo like yourself must have someone to drink beers with.

Do you secretly hate one of your friends?

A part of me hates a some part of them. I think it’s only normal. But no, why would I be friends with someone I hate.

Do you consider all of your friends good friends?

Sure, most of them yeah. We’re all totally different people with different goals and ambitions, but they stuck long enough to be considered good friends.

Who is your best friend?

Was. Mickey. Miss the bastard every day, I carry his dog tag with me at all times. Rache is next line even if we don’t talk much. I guess the military can really bond two people together.

Who knows everything about you?

No one. I guess I tell Felix a lot of stuff, but there are a lot of gaps I keep to myself. Rogue claims to know everything about me, found my real birth certificate after all, but even she can’t know the whole story. No one, but the people involved, know what happened between 2046 and 2051. And I plan on keeping it that way.

#can you tell he's not very talkative #lore dump lore dump #when i feel anxious i work on lore and dissociate 🥴#enjoy this absolutely massive post #tag: vincent e. vahn #oc: vincent elijah vahn

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gizkalord · 2 years

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fast review of ep 3 and a few big picture thoughts now that we’re halfway through (spoilers ahead!)

the good:

THE RETURN OF THE KING (haydenkin). more fever dream/vision anakin please

good scenes between obi-wan and leia. their discussion about their respective parents was really nice

i would have liked a bit deeper of a dig into what it meant for him to give up his parents, as a contrast with anakin’s arc with his mother. obi-wan expresses sadness of having to leave them behind—are these feelings he’s always had/acknowledged? or have they only been brought to the forefront because of what happened to anakin? does he wonder if separating anakin from his mother played a role in his fall? basically how has his thinking in these regards changed?

still think reva was either a youngling who escaped the temple and resents having been a jedi/obi-wan for not killing vader, or she resents the order for never taking her in. her reaction to the carved order symbol was way too passionate/personal.

i am certain this is going to start coming out when she interacts with leia because this whole situation will somehow parallel her own childhood hang-ups

inquisitors jockeying for favor!!! fantastic

SO glad tala is a good guy

the secret bunker was v cool

QUINLAN VOS

vader burning obi-wan as revenge is 10/10 on brand we love to see it

very cool contrast of obi-wan being proficient with his blaster but very bad with his lightsaber

interesting that he lets obi-wan go at the end? just the way it was shot made it seem like he was thinking something. probably some combination of him being disappointed in obi-wan or not satisfied with how his revenge fantasy was playing out lmao

the bad/neutral:

the sets are kinda meh, just feels a bit cheap at places, which sucks because i feel star wars without good set design is like star wars without a good soundtrack lol. i think mandalorian has had the best showing for set design for live action, but overall both tbobf and now obi-wan have had underwhelming set design. vader’s castle interior was particularly bad. i’m sure it has to do with tv production constraints, but honestly this is another reason why i’ve preferred animated star wars tv this whole time.

going off of my desire to see more of obi-wan’s feelings towards his parents, in general i would like a bit more thematic callback to the prequels. what mistakes does obi-wan believe he made? how does that relate to the jedi order’s issues as presented by the prequels? does he believe the jedi made any mistakes, or is he shifting all the blame to himself? any show that purports to be about obi-wan and anakin’s relationship and anakin’s fall should honestly be discussing those issues.

anyways entirely possible we’ll get more on it, now that obi-wan has physically encountered vader

there’s a bit of flatness overall—again, i think it might be a combination of tv budget and me feeling like they’re not fully committing to digging into the real meat. i still think this show is going well though!

precocious children are tricky to write, and this show has demonstrated that lol. maybe my standards for kid character writing are higher this morning because i was watching stranger things 4 last night.

#kenobi spoilers #obi wan series #kenobi series #star wars #mags.txt #obi wan kenobi

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5-7-9 · 3 months

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i really want to apologize about shit i did, but it feels lackluster unless i do something rather than say it, but i dislike/fear doing anything, which always comes back to my anxiety, so in the end have i really changed at all? And is it an invalid excuse to keep saying most of my personal issues stem from my innate(?) severe anxiety? And blaming my environment for not raising me in a way i cope better? Once i become an adult, I will have to be responsible for my actions. But is it really my actions if i’ve been conditioned from my childhood to never grow up? But then, it doesn’t fucking matter whose to blame I literally don’t give two shits who started what everyone should SHUT THE FUCK UP and try being peaceful all together because we HAVE TO LIVE TOGETHER but that’s a real fantasy and i think it sounds victim blaming but literally what happens to an abuser after you leave??? They either continue that cycle with someone else, or go to jail. And jail fucking sucks, and the death penalty is widely controversial for valid complex reasons. I think restorative justice is good because it’s basically the opposite of toxic and everyone toxic really hates it. Wait does that make me toxic? Is the rotten apple rush the other apples in the basket to wither quicker too?

I feel like a morally terrible person (by my own standards, which i think is fall proof, which means I’m probably right). Which sucks. I’m constantly at a crossroad with my haywire instincts of anxiety, and my thoughts/mind and body. Which sucks. It sounds stupid to think fixing the root issue of a problem will help me get my life on track, which is stupid because yes it will. I should probably get anti-anxiety medication. Once my anxiety gets over medication, I’ll think about it 🤔

#settling ☀️ thoughts

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mangodestroyer · 7 months

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Vent about trauma and mental health.

I feel like there's this stigma around mental health where if you don't manage it perfectly 100% of the time and basically overcome your condition completely, you're a toxic fuck up and you didn't even try.

And, I mean, I've gotten this sentiment from people over my autism of all things. A condition you can't cure. And my cPTSD symptoms as well. Something that can be managed, but again, trauma is for life.

And I think this sentiment from both therapists and society has actually slowed down my healing. Got me too caught up on looking at my own failings as an individual and blaming myself for a lot of things. Which basically led to me putting up with abuse from others, thinking I made that happen (an idea that originates from behavioral therapies from childhood).

So I did a lot of work, research, and thinking on my own. After hitting a rock bottom point in my life. And tbh, I feel a lot more mentally well forgiving myself for being imperfect. And no longer questioning if there's something seriously wrong with me for... having a mental breakdown over a stressful or triggering situation for instance. And, I mean, even saving the mental breakdown for when I'm alone and not making it other people's problem.

I think maybe it's completely normal to sometimes not be okay. And I'm starting to think it's a little ridiculous that I ever found it toxic of me to have normal human emotions (and thought it was wrong for me to have boundaries and not like abuse). And, you know, I've seen people from completely healthy backgrounds sometimes get overwhelmed by life too. So it's really not that abnormal.

And I don't think getting bothered by your trauma from time to time is a bad thing. I don't think you need to be 100% optimistic about the world and believe it's a safe, perfect place in order to be "cured." Trauma responses exist for a reason, and no, if the world was this safe, perfect place, there wouldn't be traumatized individuals. And so many of them at that. I swear, some people act like we're just like this for the hell of it, or like our brains goofed (and I've never met a therapists who actually wanted to talk about my trauma). Obviously it isn't healthy to believe EVERYONE is dangerous, but I'm also finding it helpful to actually analyze why certain situations in my life were dangerous and unhealthy, validate the damage it caused, and learning how to protect myself in the future. Because no, not everyone is a bad person, but clearly, bad people do exist and not everyone has your best interests in mind. Again, there wouldn't be traumatized individuals if this wasn't true, and there wouldn't be so many horrible things, like r*pe and m*rder happening either.

I wouldn't be traumatized if I hadn't known people who constantly went out of their way to hurt me and play games with me. Make me feel completely worthless and derive joy from seeing me miserable. Threatened me and even told me they wish I was dead, whether directly or just by implying that. Or realizing I may have dodged a bullet and almost gotten myself into other dangerous situations. Like, clearly I've seen a dark side of humanity. No, I'm probably never going to be 100% okay, dealing with that for nearly two decades. CONSTANTLY. From a handful of individuals. And no, I don't think this makes me a fuck up. And I don't think me being autistic gives other people an excuse to be such vultures. It's not my fault at all! They made the choice to go for someone less popular/more vulnerable and kick them while they're down. It's clearly more of a reflection of their sadistic tendencies and lack of empathy. And realizing that there are such sick individuals out there who are completely irredeemable sucks (I've tried everything to make these relationships work and to "work on myself" to make their abusive behaviors stop, but no, treating these people like they're reasonable and caring will NEVER work). But AGAIN, there wouldn't be such unspeakable things happening in the world if people like that didn't exist. And ignoring this fact about reality, as many people strangely enough do, does nothing to actually fix these problems and makes victims feel hella isolated.

So yeah, this became a bit of a tangent. But accepting this dark side of reality and realizing all the gaslighting around my mental illness has been a huge game changer. For once, I feel SANE. I'm actually seeing myself become more emotionally regulated and functional. It's ironically improved my autistic symptoms as well, just accepting my condition as it is. At the very least, I'm learning how to better navigate the world WITH my autism, rather than trying to reject it. And guess what? People are starting to find me more approachable/likeable. Something my autism was supposedly getting in the way of.

You aren't defective for being different/having problems. At this point, I believe you can learn to work with your mental conditions. I feel like I've learned how to use my trauma as a tool to protect me and grew from it, rather than let it control me. You're allowed to have flaws and it's okay if you need to do things differently.

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cheesey-rice · 3 years

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Theory on the Soul in Deltarune. (Warning for spoilers on all routes.)

In case you didn't know already, there are two routes in the new Deltarune chapter. I think each one gives us a different perspective on Kris's motivations and their relationship with the soul that inhabits them.

I think the important thing that underpins my take on the game is assuming that the two other lighters who accompany you in the game, Noelle and Susie, are used to voice perspectives that Kris as a silent protagonist might share but be unable to express. This is a common tool used in silent protagonist RPGs, but if you don't agree with it my take might not hold much water for you.

I'll start out by talking about a fairly regular pacifist playthrough of this part. The main scene I'd like to discuss is the one at the end, where it is discussed that opening a dark fountain could bring about the Roaring.

Because it's pretty obvious that we are to think Kris is the "Knight" sneaking off to create these dark fountains with their knife, some people think that they intend to bring about the Roaring. I think their intentions are far less malicious than such a theory assumes.

Because the main thing is that we know that Kris as a character cares about the people in their life. They have a loving relationship with their family and take care of their friends automatically without us prompting them. When Susie consistently alludes to wanting to stay friends with Kris throughout the pacifist rounds, I assume these feelings are reciprocated. I also assume that most of the feelings Susie expresses about the dark world, that it's cool and fun and easier than the real world, are also feelings felt by Kris.

There's also another layer we can see to Kris's feelings about the dark world that comes from their own reactions. We know that Kris is a weird kid in real life, a lonely kid who looks up to their older brother and doesn't have any trophies on their wall like he does. In the dark world, Kris does get trophies on their wall in the room Ralsei makes for them. In the dark world, Kris is a confident, accomplished leader who can make as many friends as they want to thanks to help and guidance from a goat who is very similar to their older brother who they can't contact because of the internet currently.

It isn't really a ground breaking conclusion to say that Kris probably likes the dark world just as much as Susie does, as she talks only of how she wants to go back and have another adventure. Because Kris is the one making the dark fountains, one can see that the worlds are made for them. Made for their adventure with friends in a world makebelieved out of all their childhood toys and imaginings.

We also know that Kris has the ability to walk around, slash tires, eat pies, and make dark fountains without any input from us at all. They don't need us for that and have the ability to take us out whenever they want.

So if the theory that they resent the soul that controls their actions held true, why would we still be in control? Why would they choose to let us do that?

This is where it's important to consider Noelle in the alternate route, whose inner feelings we are often privy to due to Kris's strong understanding of her from childhood.

The alternate route is activated by forcing Noelle to kill people in the dark world. At one point, Noelle asks herself why she's following Kris's commands when they're asking her to do such awful things. The conclusion that she draws is, "but I keep getting stronger... They're just trying to make me stronger."

If this is the reason Noelle obeys Kris, then perhaps in turn we can extrapolate that this is the reason Kris obeys us.

Because we get results.

No matter which ending you get, Kris had an adventure, became stronger, defeated enemies it would have been impossible to go up against without us.

We also see that in scenes where we don't help Kris, where we aren't in control, they often suffer at the hands of these enemies. How Susie hit then against the locker in the first game, howthe King almost strikes them down after they help Susie, how Spamton would have killed them all alone in the basement if their friends hadn't interceded.

Kris wants to be cool and strong and have a fun adventure. For that reason, they are relying on another, external force to make their choices for them. To make choices that will matter.

In the Pacifist run, Kris gets their wish. A fun adventure with their friends where no one has to get hurt. Kris can just sit back and enjoy as a friendly dark power holds their hand through the whole thing.

In the alternate route, however, we see the start of a darker path. One where the dark power with hold over Kris makes malevolent choices that make them question themselves. Is this really the right thing?

We see this hesitation in how other characters react to Kris in this route. After Kris and Noelle kill Bertly, Susie notes that Kris's expression seems to be off some how. That something seems wrong with them, even offering to heal them because of it. Later on, Noelle notes that she sees some other voice coming out of Kris, something scary that she needs to investigate, foreshadowing a continuation of this plot in later chapters.

Kris experiences some amount of turmoil due to the actions of the player. But they still open the dark fountain and put the soul back into themselves later.

How do they justify that to themselves?

Think about Yoshi. If you talk to Garrison's descendent at his grave, they tell you that Kris drops Yoshi into the pit on purpose to complete a level in the video game. In video games Kris is already the kind of player that can distance themselves from necessary sacrifices.

Maybe they justify it to themselves the same way Noelle does at first. It's in the dark world, things are different there, it doesn't matter, it's not real. I'm still getting stronger. Isn't this what I wanted? Who cares if Berdley is dead, he sucked anyway, let's close our eyes and not even look so toby doesn't have to draw the sprite when we hide his body in the wire closet.

Perhaps the resign themselves to it, acclimate to it, become numb to the traumatic event in order to justify carrying on, like Flower or Chara in Undertale might be assumed to on a genocide run.

Because that's what having the soul allows them to do. It allows them to carry on.

On the notion of Noelle carrying on her investigation, it would be interesting to me if the endgame of deltarune turned out to be a fight where all the friends whose levels you raised by killing turn on you and try to either a) save Kris from you, or b) stop a Kris who is too far gone into apathy. That ending would seem sort of karmic to me so I would enjoy seeing it. I think a battle where you play as Kris but try to make them lose to their friends in a pacifist run ending might be interesting too seeing as they are the "knight" and all and are being set up as the big bad.

So basically my actual theorizing boils down to a) on pacifist run you're like Kris's replacement older sibling cajoling them into making friends on a little video game adventure and they're trying so hard to make you stay, or b) you take the alternate route and are just kind of traumatizing Kris into thinking murder is ok if they get to be cool and have fun adventures.

I also have some things to say about how Ralsei takes on Asriel's place of influencing Kris to experience empathy and when you follow those actions Kris is reminded of their big brother who they love and how the alternate route makes Kris cut themselves off from that empathetic power as part of maintaining their own self justifications but I should just make a different post if I'm gonna talk about that.

TLDR; Kris just wants to have a fun adventure like everyone else, I don't think they resent our control but are instead actively seeking it out to make their life easier.

#deltarune spoilers #deltarune #kris dreemurr #noelle deltarune #deltarune theory #deltarune meta #Feel free to add on/disagree with me im in the mood to chat about this

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jeonfiles · 3 years

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once more to see you | kth 01

pairing: taehyung x reader ft. seokjin

genre: angst, fluff, unrequited love

synopsis: taehyung is the complete opposite of you, and you're so in love with him. he's not interested in you at all, but he's willing to pretend so he won't be known for breaking the sweetest girl in school's heart. he knows you'll end up hurt either way.

warnings: taehyung is an idiot, a lot of pining, y/n is annoyingly dependent on validation, y/n does a lot of silent prayers, y/n is a track star, childhood bsf seokjin (cute), mentions of deceased family member

music for this chap: she had the world , carry me out

a/n: taehyung will disappoint u in the beginning but hes cute i promise

"I get why you like him Y/N," Sohee swallowed the rest of her sandwich before finishing her sentence, "He's so hot. People say he's interested in you too, y'know?"

Sohee visibly tried to get food out from the back of her mouth using her tongue, and it made you chuckle at the sight. "I don't think he does." You sighed, resting your chin in your palm.

You were both situated at the table in the inner corner of the cafeteria, with a full view of who walks in the door, and sometimes you swore you could see Sohee drool when attractive guys walked in that exact door.

"Hello, of course, he does! Even his friend Jimin told Kang Seulgi from Class 1, who told Go Euntaek in class 3, who eventually told his girlfriend Baek Ho-rang who ran to me to tell me the great news." Sohee gasped for air after rambling, and you rolled your eyes,

"Stories change when that many links contribute." You scoffed, sitting back in your chair and reaching for your juice box on the table, taking a huge slurp, which you knew would annoy Sohee.

"You don't believe me? Guess we gotta ask a link closer to the source then." Sohee stood up from her chair, and you looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Park Jimin, get your ass over here will ya?" She nearly shouted across the cafeteria, and now all looks were pointed at you two, and you felt the urge to just slip down the cracks of the floor tiles and hide there forever grow stronger for each nanosecond.

You sunk further down on your tacky, orange chair, but you could still see Jimin's black locks sway a little over the crowd as he walked over to the table you were sitting at.

"What's up sugar?" Jimin smirked at Sohee, and Sohee didn't even budge, and you had no idea how she did it. He was stupidly attractive and could make any girl drop her pants with a comment like that.

"Jimin my dearest, a little birdie told me that Taehyung likes my sweet Y/N, could you confirm?" She batted her long lashes and smiled prettily at Jimin.

He looked to the left, sucked his teeth, and said, "I can't, I'm sorry." You realized you had grown a little too hopeful, and your heart sunk quite a bit when he spoke.

"Does he think I'm pretty at least?" You spoke up, eyes shining when you looked up towards the standing Jimin, the harsh lights in the cafeteria reflecting in them.

"He hasn't mentioned you much, to be quite honest." He shrugged, walking back to his table, where Taehyung and the rest of his friends sat.

Your heart thumped when he met your eyes, and you looked away in panic. The rest of lunch was just Sohee apologizing and you avoiding eye contact with any of the students at the nearby tables.

Jimin mentioned you and Sohee's name several times, he was a loud speaker, and you were so scared of what he was saying you could probably die right then and there.

Saved by the bell, you picked up your stuff and got ready to start running to your classroom, praying you wouldn't meet any of Taehyung's friends, and especially not Taehyung as you ran Usain Bolt style.

You looked down while running, not thinking twice about leaving your best friend behind, you suddenly fell to the ground with a thud. This was surely not one of your glory days.

When you looked up, you wanted to cry. It was none other than Kim Taehyung, and he didn't look pleased. You gathered your things and muttered "Sorry." under your breath probably about 10 times, and he just watched, disappointingly.

"You're a klutz. Why were you running?" He spoke, and your knees turned into jelly when you tried to stand up, you nearly fell and dropped all your stuff again, but he caught you by the arm, straightening you up like it was nothing.

"Uh... Uhm... Err..." you mumbled, and he rolled his eyes, and not in a joking manner. "Fuck that, why are you going around telling people I like you?"

Your breath hitched, and he stared at you coldly. "I didn't! Gosh, my friend Sohee told me someone had told her that you liked me, and- uh... We asked Jimin, and-" He put his hand over your mouth, making you shut up.

"I don't want you two to go around making up baseless rumors about me, it's incredibly annoying for me to go around correcting people who assume shit just because your little friend speaks louder than a bunch of hyenas at a tea party." Taehyung nearly spat, and you took a step back.

You noticed that people were listening in, their stares burning holes in your back. He was livid, and you didn't understand why, you just smiled, praying to god that this would end soon.

"I just thought you liked me-" You began, and he interrupted you, "You thought I was gonna like someone like you? Get over yourself and enter the real world."

The hallway went silent, your lips trembled as hot tears raced down your face, and like the track star you were, you fled the scene and passed the finish line into the bathrooms.

You stayed till the school day ended, not knowing what was unraveling outside the four walls of the stall.

Sohee 💜: 01:12 pm

Y/N, where are you? i heard what happened :( i hate taehyung im gonna chop his sausage off

Sohee 💜: 01:38 pm

taehyung is fighting w doyoung because doyoung decided to defend you this is hilarious

but fr where are you

Sohee 💜: 01:57 pm

doyoung gave taehyung a black eye damn

doyo is on the verge of tears when taehyung said you liked him and not doyo

taehyung cant not have feelings for you like there must be smth deeper going on

Sohee 💜: 03:39 pm

class just ended i'll wait out back

Sohee always knew when to leave you alone, so she did, partially. You usually shut off your phone when you're upset, but she still sends you texts to update you whenever you turn it back on.

This time, it was quite dramatic, and you rushed out of the icky stall and ran (again) to reach Sohee to get the full story, and as you expected, it was interesting.

"Basically, Doyoung punched Taehyung and Taehyung was a little too OP, so he failed to initiate a fight, so it just turned into Taehyung being an ass to Doyoung for defending you." She shrugged, adjusting the straps of her leather backpack as you walked home.

"Taehyung's rep is so tainted right now, I don't know how he's gonna fix this my dear Y/N, so I guess he got his karma. He's an idiot and I'm glad other people are starting to see."

You nodded yes, pushing out a fake chuckle, while silently you prayed that everything would soon be back to normal and that Taehyung would forgive you for the mess you caused.

Being in love with Taehyung for a year had taken a toll on you, and your best friend since freshman year had noticed too. You were different.

You used to be so independent and optimistic, but now you would strive for validation, and you had turned into one of the most insecure people Sohee had ever met.

Sohee tried to pull you away from him, but to her demise, it only got worse when you tried to meet other guys. She figured that the only way for you to disconnect from him was if you had your go with him, or if he treated you like a complete idiot.

You waved goodbye to Sohee as you entered your house, kicking off your shoes and throwing yourself down on the couch. You wanted to scream, but you saw your brother's and another guy's shoes in your hallway, so you kept it inside.

After having watched an episode of Seinfeld, you could hear the floorboards creak, and your gaze found its way to the hallway, where your brother, Yoongi stood, peeking out from his door.

"Ah, Y/N, you're the one who's home?" He smiled brightly, eyes turning into small crescents, which made you awe at the sight.

"Yuppers." You said and sat back again, pressing play to start the next episode. "Who's your guest?" And as you uttered your last word, another head peeked out from the door, and you couldn't help but feel the happiness brew inside you.

It was Kim Seokjin in all his glory, and this time, he looked even hotter. It had been about two years since you last saw him because he moved to Germany to study medicine.

Seokjin had been your neighbor since you were born, and you pretty much grew up with two older brothers who always took care of you.

No one dared to mess with you, because Seokjin and Yoongi always got to them first. That way, you grew up without a care in the world, protected from all evil.

You had no idea when you fell in love with him. It was somewhere during puberty, where your interest in Brad Pitt and Kim Soohyun from Dream High had grown stronger.

You remember Seokjin was scouted for modeling, acting, and even idol groups all through your childhood. He did a few ads, photoshoots, a popular teenage drama called Double Trouble, and even managed to get his own Wikipedia page.

There was no doubt that Seokjin was an attractive man, and in the two years he had been gone, his face fat was completely gone, and he had defined cheekbones, a slimmer and tighter figure, and you thought he couldn't be any more perfect.

"None other than God himself," Seokjin said smugly, opening his arms to greet you with a hug, and you threw your blanket you were covered into the side as you bolted into Seokjin's arms, legs wrapped around his waist.

He slowly put you down so your feet touched the parquet, and you felt a kind of euphoria as he smiled at you again, the same smile he had flashed you as long as you could remember.

Everything about Seokjin had matured and changed, but his smile remained the same. "What are you doing back?" You sniffled, holding back the happy tears that were forming in your eyes.

"Hey, don't get me wrong, I love Germany, but it's a little bland. I miss ahjumnas complimenting me on the subway and the bomb ass food here in SK." Seokjin grinned as he wiped a tear that fell down your face.

Yoongi was leaning against the door frame, smiling at the grand reunion. You knew he liked seeing you two together, and you had a small suspicion about him shipping you guys.

"Please don't ever leave again." You gripped onto his shirt, digging your face down in his chest, and he said, "I swear to god if you're wearing makeup right now-"

You laughed as you pushed him away, placing your hands below your chin and batting your eyelashes dramatically, "I'm all-natural."

"Naturally pretty." Seokjin leaned forward and whispered in your ear, and your heart did a little somersault.

Seokjin's always been a charmer.

You woke up in your room, pink sheets draped over your half-naked body as tons of messages poured in on your phone, vibrating so much it nearly fell off the edge of your nightstand.

You grab it while rubbing your eyes, and you're shocked to see the messages that had exploded on your lock screen.

Unknown: 08:39 am

Hey, it's Kim Taehyung.

Look, I'm sorry for the shit I said to you and I would love to make it up to you in some kind of way.

Maybe I could take you out?

I get it if you don't want to, but I heard you were interested in me so...

What kinda food do you like? Activities, hobbies?

I really wanna make this right :)

You: 08:43 am

oh hey! I'd love to, you kinda owe me one. if it's your treat, I suppose we could get some sushi and boba...

btw I don't like u like that

Contact made, saved as "taehyung <3" at 08:44 am

taehyung <3: 08:47 am

Okay. Meet me at Nori Table at 6 pm. Don't make me wait.

Your heart was palpitating, and when you pressed your phone up to your chest, you could feel your body heat up from your scalp to your toes.

Maybe Kim Taehyung had no interest in you right now, but he sure would after tonight. You were gonna make him love you, soon enough,

Running to the shower a few hours of Seinfeld later, you scrubbed with all your might with your newest strawberry scrub, did your makeup, curled your hair, and sat down on the couch, outfit draped over the armrest of the chair.

It was an hour till you were leaving, so for the time being you sat with hair rollers in your hair, dressed in pink sweats. Seokjin and Yoongi had been awake all night, you had heard them laugh and play Mario Cart all night, it reminded you of old times.

Old times where you went to bed crying because Yoongi and Seokjin's bedtime was later than yours at sleepovers. Thinking back, your parents made a pretty rational decision, but you resented them for it.

When Seokjin left for school in Germany, during your Sophomore year you cried again. You thought it was so unfair that you had to be two years younger, why couldn't you come with him?

You were painfully in love with him, and you had been probably since you were. A few months after he moved, your feelings faded. You were love-free, only to fall stupidly in love again with Taehyung just a year later.

You were forced to snap out of your train of thought because you heard the floorboards creak again. When you looked over at the dark hallway, you saw a tired, yet familiar face smile at you.

Seokjin looked quite disoriented, hair ruffled and eyes puffy, yet he looked like a Greek god. Sculpted to perfection, he smiled at you like he did yesterday and all the times before.

"Morning." He grunted out, his morning voice prominent. You chuckled when you looked at the time, feeling kind of bad for Seokjin who had slept away the majority of his day, which you knew he didn't like.

"It's 5 pm, cutie. Mom said you guys could order takeout, cause she's working late." You stood up, and Seokjin gave you a good look up and down, and then diverted his gaze to the lavender ruffle skirt and white long-sleeve blouse you had neatly hung over the armchair.

"What's the occasion?" He nodded over at the clothes and then your hair rollers and full-face makeup-covered face. He threw a few walnuts from the little bowl on the coffee table into his mouth.

"It's none of your business, but I have a date tonight," you said smugly, and a walnut flew out of Seokjin's mouth in shock.

"A date? Like a real one?" He frantically asked, and you nodded as you walked away with your outfit in hand.

You came back out minutes later, and Seokjin had to hold his mouth shut so it wouldn't drop to the floor. You had matured so well, a white blouse adorning your waist, and the lavender skirt hugged your curves nicely.

You had decorated your neck and ears with golden jewelry, and you had a pair of Air forces dangling from your left hand. You were beautiful, hair let free from the hair rollers, curls swaying as you did a twirl.

"It's alright, I guess." He pretended not to care, and your proud grin morphed into a frown pretty quickly, and he noticed.

He stood up and walked towards you, standing very close. His tall figure was hovering over you. Seokjin leaned forward towards your ear, not whispering this time,

"You're gorgeous." He pushed your curls behind your shoulder, adjusting your golden necklace as he returned to Yoongi's bedroom.

You were screwed.

The time on your phone showed 6:06 pm. You recall him saying ‘don’t be late’. What a hypocrite. It had started to pour down, so you were squeezed up against the brick wall of the restaurant so the ledge above you would shield you from the rain.

You were shaking from the cold, legs exposed because of your skirt. Sighing deeply, you reached down into your purse to text Taehyung, but when you looked up, you saw him running over to you.

He was holding a bouquet of pink delphinium and peonies. You’d always been interested in flowers, and this small gesture made you all fuzzy inside.

“I apologize for my late arrival m’lady. The flower shop was about to close down for the day, and I had to beg the cashier to let me in, promising to buy a huge bouquet if she did.” He smiled as he stood in front of you.

“No worries sir, I haven’t been waiting for long.” You chuckled, as you accepted the bouquet. His eyes scanned every inch of your body, and he said, “You’re shivering. Let’s go inside.”

This was a side of Taehyung you had barely seen before, caring and warm. This was also the side of him that initially made you fall for him.

The memories of him reading stories for children at the hospital was heartwarming. Whenever you went to visit your brother, who has now passed, you would see him read stories for all the unlucky kids.

Your brother, who was only 7 years old talked about Taehyung like a superhero, and it seemed as if Taehyung’s stories were the highlight of his days at the hospital.

Daejung wasn’t a kid you would pity. In his last months in the hospital he never once cried. You believed that Taehyung was a big part of the reason.

That’s why you fell in love with him. He hadn’t been a superhero in the form of saving lives, but he definitely made a whole lot of sick kids happier.

How could you ever repay him?

Taehyung rested a hand on your shoulder and lead you inside the door, and there stood a beautiful tall woman, black hair to her waist, almond-shaped eyes, and full lips.

She was beautiful. You looked up to see Taehyung’s reaction, and he wasn’t looking at her, he was looking at you. His eyes met yours, and you could’ve sword the whole world stopped.

“Excuse me?” An unfamiliar voice spoke up, and it kicked you right back into reality. It was the pretty woman speaking, an even prettier voice to match her.

“Do you have a reservation?” She questioned, smiling so genuinely from ear to ear. “Yes. It’s on Kim.” Taehyung spoke so confidently.

“Ah, for two. I’ll be your server tonight.” She waved for you to follow her, and before she turned around, you saw her name tag.

Bae Eunmi. A pretty name for a pretty person. Of course, she had to be pretty. Your confidence sunk even lower, and your insecurities grew.

“I’m not interested in her, by the way. I’ve talked to her before. She’s all beauty and no brains. Not for me.” Taehyung whispered into your ear, possibly to reassure you.

You sat down at the table and ordered a huge plate of different types of sushi, maki, nigiri, uramaki, and even sashimi.

This restaurant was fancy, nearly too fancy for your liking. It was huge and flashy, and it made you doubt your outfit choice completely.

The restaurant fell silent since there weren’t many guests here this early. The silence wasn’t awkward between you guys. It was just, too silent, and you decided to break it.

“Do you still write stories?” Taehyung’s face froze. How did you know about the stories he wrote? Had you been stalking him? Was this when everyone would find out how weak he truly is?

“How did you find out... About them?” He asked hesitantly, fidgeting with a small woven basket with bread placed on your table.

“When sun and moon met, moon felt bad. When the moon was alone at night, he cried, because he wanted to shine just like the sun.” You quote his story word by word, it was your favorite paragraph.

He looked at you with a confused look and his eyes told you that he wondered why you knew the story so well.

Before he could speak up, you said, “My brother's name was Daejung. He looked up to you and constantly told me about how he wanted to be like you when he grew up.” You placed your hands on top of his over the table.

Taehyung was speechless. He sat there, body completely frozen as he processed what you just said. The little boy he had mourned for many months was the same flesh and blood as you.

“Daejung told me how he wanted me to marry you because he thought no one else deserved me.” Letting go of his hands, he continued sitting completely still.

First, he felt disappointed in himself. Disappointed of the way he had treated you, how sad Daejung would be if he knew.

Second, he could see him in your traits. Your button nose matched his completely, and your eyes sparkled just the way his eyes did.

Third, he realized he had to take care of you. Fall in love with you, for Daejung. Taehyung had promised the little boy to take care of his friends and family when he has at his worst.

His expression completely changed. It softened, and his eyes looked at you like you were godsent. He believed you were too. It was fate.

join the “once more to see you” taglist

a/n: u guys know the angst isn't over lol u guys r never gonna see the light at the end of the tunnel ! this chapter was originally a bit longer but i have to test the waters and seeing how u guys like it !! pls reblog <3

#taehyung ff #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #bts imagines #bts ff #bts taehyung #taehyung x you #taehyung x reader #bts v #seokjin angst #seokjin ff #seokjin smut #taehyung smut #fuckboy!taehyung #popular!taehyung #bts x reader #bts x oc #bts

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

Could you maybe do that part 5 of truth or drink you alluded to?? :) with Jules and the lupins and basically Jules spilling ALLL of re’s secrets & Marley loving it 🥰

Oh, Jules, how I missed you. The truth or drink referenced in this ask is here (it's been an age since I did one, wow!) and SW credit of course goes to @lumosinlove!

“Please can we have alcohol?” Jules swung his legs under the table with wide, pleading eyes.

Marlene barked a laugh. “Over my dead body, baby Loops.”

“It would be,” Remus agreed with a teasing grin.

“Welcome back to Lion Pride, both of you,” she said, ruffling their hair. Both scrunched their faces up in identical expressions of displeasure. “There are fifteen cards in your deck, and if you don’t want to answer the question, you have to take a drink of apple juice. Not alcohol.”

“You used to be cool,” Jules sulked. Marlene rolled her eyes and Remus reached over to flick his ear. “Hey, that hurt!”

“No, it did not.”

“I’m gonna tell mom you hit me.”

Remus turned to Marlene with a long-suffering look. “Can I have alcohol?”

“Get crackin’, boys, the world wants to know your secrets.” She tapped the deck of cards with a wink and wandered behind the cameras again.

“Alright, here we go.” Remus sighed. “My name is Remus Lupin, I’m the Lions’ right wing, and I’m here with my baby brother to answer some questions. Take it away, Jules.”

“I’m not a baby,” Jules clarified to the camera. “I’m twelve. Who’s the most attractive sibling?”

Remus frowned. “Me? Just ‘cause I’m older.”

“As if.”

“Oh my god,” he muttered, reaching for his own card. “Oh, this should be fun. Name your favorite parent.”

“Dad,” Jules answered without hesitating. Remus’ eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“First, you’re not supposed to answer that fast, and second, what?”

“Dad’s cool!”

“Dad is not cool!” Remus laughed. “I don’t have a favorite parent—”

“Liar.”

“—but mom is the cool one. Dad’s a dork, and we love him for it.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe this. Mom would literally do anything for you. She learned to skate for you.”

“It’s not like I don’t love mom!” Jules protested as he took a new card. “I love her so much! And I know mom is your favorite, so it’s only fair. Which of us is the most successful, and which is the screwup?”

“I don’t have a favorite parent,” Remus insisted, leaning back in his seat. “And neither of us are screwups.”

“You’re more successful.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re a screwup. It means you’re twelve. Who’s the overachiever?”

“You,” Jules snorted. “You’re such a nerd. It’s embarrassing. What’s the meanest thing I did to you when we were kids?”

Remus rested his chin on his hand and thought for a moment, then turned to look behind the camera. “Since we were only kids together for, like, three years, can I say something from a little later?”

“Anything before age 25,” Marlene called.

He nodded decisively. “Sweet. In that case, it’s the time this little monster let a rat into the house, freaked out when he didn’t know what to do, then locked it in my bedroom and didn’t tell anyone until I went to bed and something ran across my sheets.”

Jules shrugged. “You survived.”

“Yeah, and you almost didn’t.”

“So dramatic,” he muttered.

Remus whacked him over the head with the next card before reading it. “Oh, god. Share the most mortifying memory you have of me. If you drink that apple juice and don’t answer, I’ll get you ice cream on the way home.”

Jules leaned back with a hum, already grinning. “Let’s see…”

“No,” Remus groaned.

“Probably—” Jules broke off to giggle. “Probably when you took me into the locker room to meet the team and the whole time I was talking to Sirius, you looked like you were about to melt into the floor. You had this stupid grin on your face—”

“Shut up.”

“—and almost tripped over your own feet, like, four times. This was before you guys were dating, too.”

“You are the worst,” Remus said, though his voice was muffled by his forearms. “Next question?”

“I can keep going. There was the time you gave yourself a black eye hanging Christmas lights, and when you bounced off an enforcer when you tried to check him, and when mom asked you to defrost the chicken for dinner and you forgot so you put it in the microwave and almost set the house on fire, and—“

“Marlene.” Remus raised his head with a pitiful look. “Please make him stop. Please.”

“Okay,” Marlene laughed, a little breathless. “Alright, one sec. Jules, your turn.”

“Ugh, fine. Do you let me win at things?”

“When you were five, sure.” Remus tilted his head to the side. “Otherwise, no. Do you want me to let you win?”

“I’d be so upset if you did. I only get better because I want to kick your ass one day.”

“Language. Am I a good brother?”

“Well, yeah,” Jules said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He blinked at Remus, clearly confused. “Duh. You’re weird and annoying, but you’re one of my top three favorite people?”

“Before or after dad?” Remus teased, but it was soft with fondness.

Jules narrowed his eyes and leaned his elbows on the table. “Wouldn’t you like to know. Have I ever disappointed you?”

“Never. I don’t think you could if you tried. Who’s smarter?”

“Me.” Remus gave the camera a disbelieving look as Jules took a new card. “Ha! I like this one. Which of us was a mistake?”

“Oh, that is a good one. Honestly, I don’t think either of us were planned. Mom and dad definitely weren’t expecting a kid at 21 and 25, and absolutely weren’t planning on another one fifteen years later.”

Jules cast the camera a bright smile. “Oops!”

“But we’re their best mistakes,” Remus said solemnly with the ghost of a smile, as if he was repeating a sentiment that had been said many times before. “Okay, I need to have a talk with whoever set up these questions. Do an impersonation of me, or drink to—”

“Oh, look at me, I’ve got a fancy degree,” Jules mimicked, dropping his voice comically low. “I’m so cool, I’ve got a secret boyfriend and I’m not gonna tell anyone about it for three whole months even though I suck at keeping secrets. I’m tall, so I’m gonna grab my awesome little brother by the ankles and shake him around—”

“You asked me to—”

“Shh! I’m not done!”

Remus gave him an incredulous look. “They get the point!”

Jules stuck his tongue out, but grabbed a new card from the stack. “What are your best and worst memories of mom and dad?”

“Aw, man.” Remus tapped his short stack of cards on the table and bit his lip. “Best and worst…best would probably be Christmas two or three years ago, when we all went skating on the lake.”

“That’s a good one,” Jules mused.

“It’s hard to think of my worst memory of them. Um, maybe after I stopped playing hockey in college? There was a lot of walking on eggshells and it was really uncomfortable.”

Remus read the next card and his frown dissolved into laughter; he reached for the apple juice and filled both glasses to the brim, then pushed them across the table to Jules without a word. “What are these for? You have to read the card, dummy.”

“The most spoiled sibling has to drink,” Remus said with a wide grin.

“It’s not me!” Jules protested, though it was weak. “You were an only child for fifteen years!”

“Yeah, and?” His amusement only grew as Jules struggled to make a comeback. “See, you can’t even deny it! You’re the baby of the family and everybody loves you. How many times have you been to Gryffindor?”

Jules opened and closed his mouth a few times, going red with indignance.

“How many?” Remus’ expression was pure glee. “Buddy, I didn’t leave Wisconsin for anything other than roadies until you were old enough to travel, and then mom and dad had to show you off to everyone.”

“They love you, too!”

“I know they do,” Remus laughed. “They’re great parents and we both had amazing childhoods. You’re still the more spoiled one.”

“I don’t like this game,” he muttered as he drank one of the glasses. “And I’m not drinking that other one. Okay, last question. Should we see more of each other?”

“Of course,” Remus said. “I wish we lived closer to each other all the time. Do you think so?”

Jules reached for the glass, then burst out laughing when Remus’ jaw dropped. “Oh, I got you so good! But yeah, I miss you a ton during the school year.”

“You little…” Remus bit back his threat and ruffled Jules’ hair despite his protests, cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. “Keep that up and you’re gonna get flipped again.”

“You wouldn’t. Not on camera.”

“Try me.”

Jules bolted from his seat and tried to make a run for it, but Remus was faster—he caught him around the waist, hefted him under one arm, and turned him around until he could get ahold of his skinny ankles. “No!” Jules shrieked through his giggling as Remus started swinging him lightly back and forth. “No, no, put me down!”

“Just making sure you really don’t want to see more of me,” Remus said, alight with happiness. Jules’ fingers nearly touched the ground. “You’re almost too big for this.”

“Good,” Jules wheezed. “Are we done yet?”

Remus looked back to the camera. “Thanks for tuning into Lion Pride, everyone. Make sure to like and subscribe if you want a slow-motion tutorial on how to transform your little brother into an emergency pendulum.”

“No!”

“Can you get down by yourself?”

Jules stretched his arms toward the floor, but Remus pulled him up an inch just as his fingertips brushed the tile. “Hey! Stop it!”

“Stop what?”

“Pulling me up!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Remus said, adding another inch.

#remus lupin #julian lupin #jules #coops #marlene mckinnon #lion pride #my fic #fanfic #sweater weather #vaincre #lumosinlove #social media #truth or drink

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rose2jam · 3 years

Text

Why It Was Practically Inevitable That Severus Snape Would Join A Cult, an essay by Rose Jam

So, let’s talk about Cults. Disclaimer: This is just information I’ve gathered over the years from my personal fascination with religious cults. I’m in no way an expert or a psychologist or whatever. This is just my personal understanding from the research I’ve done.

A cult is started when a wildly charismatic Leader feels like they have a purpose, a higher calling, or a mission to be fulfilled (or they could also just be an egomaniac). Maybe they really do feel like what makes them special comes directly from a higher power, be that God, or the Heir of Slytherin, but either way, this person has a pathological need to be worshiped, and they need followers in order to do that.

So, how does one obtain Followers easily? By finding the misunderstood misfits of society, and promising them something. The people who feel like no one else understands them, or their ideologies. But this Leader? This Leader GETS IT, MAN! The Leader understands them perfectly, vindicates them, and makes them promises along the way. Like, if they stick with the Leader, then not only will they finally be understood, but they themselves will also be revered. That they will rise above all of the others who have put them down for so long, and will come out on top as a superior being.

Any of this sounding familiar?

Charles Manson preyed on young people in the middle of the hippie movement, mostly women, who were feeling lost, lonely, and in need of guidance, or in terms of the men he recruited, seeking power over others. Not all of these people were poor or helpless; some of them came from middle class, or even rich homes and families. Yes, some of them came from broken homes, but all of them felt “broken” themselves, in some way. So Manson used their desires to have a family to draw them in. He then used LSD and other drugs to keep them under his control, and he created a manipulative environment where the members of his “family” felt they could never leave him, and if they didn’t follow his commands, something horrible would happen to them. I’m not going to go into full detail on the Manson Family Murders, but if you’re personally interested, check out the Podcast “Cults” on Spotify.

So back to basics, this Leader draws in Followers with flowery promises of community, power, family, or whatever. But once the Leader has that following, the terror will begin. Cult Leaders are usually master manipulators, and have completely brainwashed their followers into believing the “us vs them” mentality, that the outside world is evil, that the outside world will only harm them, that the outside world would never understand what they’re doing on the inside. And that the Leader is the only one who knows the truth, so they better stick with him. Or maybe the Leader has gaslit his followers so completely, that they become dependent on him for everything, to the point where they don’t know how they would possibly function without the Leader. Or, the Leader has created an environment that’s so hostile, that Followers are too afraid of what might happen to them if they tried to leave, or didn’t do what the Leader commanded. Typically, it’s a combination of all of the above. Destructive cults will either hurt others outside of their circle (The Manson Family, Sect of Nacozari), harm themselves (Heaven’s Gate, The Ant Hill Kids), or both (The People’s Temple, Aum Sinrikyo).

Now that I’ve laid this foundation, I’m going to tell you why it was practically inevitable that Severus Snape would join a cult.

Snape’s childhood ultimately laid the foundation for the mental state he would be in when he decided to join the Death Eaters. He grew up in an abusive household, where his father, the muggle, had his magical wife so thoroughly whipped, that she couldn’t (or chose not to) use magic to defend herself, or her son (1). Eileen had obviously told Severus about magic, about Hogwarts, about what a wonderful place it was, and what a wonderful gift magic could be. Severus also watched as Tobias beat the magic out of her. (I know it’s debated whether Tobias actually physically abused his family, but he certainly verbally/mentally/emotionally abused them, so the term “beat” could be used figuratively as well). I don’t think it’s unreasonable to believe that Severus developed an extreme hatred of muggles with “burn the witch” mentalities from a very young age because of this.

Enter Lily, perhaps the only other magical person in his life besides his mother up to this point. He sees her using magic out in the open, perhaps recklessly, for fun, and he sees an opportunity to make a friend (and, admittedly, to be smarter than someone about something for a while). He was so eager to tell her all about magic, because getting to learn magic, and go to Hogwarts, has possibly been the only thing keeping him going in his young life. And now he’s made a friend, a real friend who doesn’t think he’s weird because he’s magical. Unlike Petunia, yet another muggle who makes fun of him for being weird (2). And Lily actually seems to like him back. For a kid who probably hasn’t received a lot of affection in his life, this is monumental. This friendship is everything. Why wouldn’t he love her?

So the time finally comes to go to Hogwarts. Severus gets to escape his abusive household, and finally has an opportunity to embrace magic for the first time in his life. But almost immediately, he’s met with a hic-up. Specifically, James Potter and Sirius Black. So Severus is no longer facing abuse exclusively from muggles who think he’s weird, but now he’s also getting it from other magical people who think he’s weird (3). And this started on the fucking TRAIN before he even GOT to Hogwarts. You can’t tell me that wouldn’t sour a kids dream right off the fucking bat. And then, when he finally gets there, he’s separated from his only friend, by being sorted into different houses (4). What a way for a life-long dream to be thoroughly dashed in less than 24 hours.

Let’s look at Snape’s Hogwarts experience. He’s a good student, and he pours himself into learning as much magic as possible, and at being the best he can possibly be, probably motivated by a desire to be better than what his Father thinks possible. During this time, he is regularly bullied and abused by the Marauders. Sometime before his 5th year, the Incident at the Shrieking Shack took place. It definitely sucks to have been so thoroughly fucking duped, and put into a life-threatening situation involving a goddamn werewolf (5). But perhaps even worse than that, the salt in the wound, was that no one fucking did anything about it (6). He saw Sirius and James and Remus get out of that situation without facing any sort of proper punishment (as in, they all still stayed at the school as opposed to being expelled like they DEFINITELY SHOULD HAVE BEEN (At least Sirius should have been)). Dumbledore was looking out for the Marauders, but no one was looking out for Severus. On top of that, Severus isn’t allowed to TELL anyone about it, not even Lily. So, he goes through what was possibly one of the most traumatic experiences of his life, and he can’t even tell anyone that it happened.

So, what sort of support system does Severus have during all this? He has Lily, sure (who literally told him he should be GRATEFUL to James, one of his abusers). But, what he really has, is Slytherin House (7). I’ll say it plainly: Severus was sorted into a house that was already full of existing cult members. McGonagall says in Sorcerer’s Stone that “Your house will be like your family” (she at least says it in the movies, I’m too lazy to get up and reference my books rn lol). So, Severus’ family, his support system, for 10 months out of every year, is a house that is already full to the brim with pureblood elitists with prejudiced ideals, who would absolutely vindicate Severus in his dislike for muggles. As a kid first getting sorted into the house, it’s obviously not unreasonable to become friends with the people you’re literally living with. His dorm mates became his family. So, when his dorm mates started to become Death Eaters… This is headcanon, I fully admit, but like, fuck, Severus didn’t have a lot of friends, and was probably already drifting apart from Lily. Do you really think he was going to tell the people he had to live with every single day, not to mention the only people that had been supporting him for years, to go fuck themselves for using Dark Magic? Especially when he was probably feeling like he was on the verge of thinking that their rhetoric made some sense?

On to Snape’s Worst Memory (8). At this point, he’s spent 5 years in Slytherin House, with fellow students who casually throw around the M word. He gets attacked by James and Sirius, he’s practically defenseless, and then the girl who he’d considered his closest friend for so long… has to force herself not to smile when he’s thrown upside down and exposed to everyone on the grounds. Sure, she was trying to defend him at first, but she also fucking nearly smiled at his humiliation, his pain, his abuse. So he hurls the one word that he knows is going to cut the deepest, that will hopefully hurt her as badly as she has hurt him. And it works.

Severus had been beaten down his entire life. By Muggles and Magic Folk alike. And finally, he’s betrayed by Lily, his last lifeline to the light. He betrayed her as well, of course. But he did try to show remorse. And she doesn’t forgive him (9), which was her prerogative, of course.

So. Who does he have left?

I’ve placed little (numbers) throughout my writing here. Each of those numbers denote the specific events that led Severus to becoming an angry young man, who hates muggles, hates (some) magic folk, and resulted in him feeling weak, helpless, and desperate. For what? For power, for a family, for a community. For a world where he is no longer the weird one. For a world where he’s respected, strong. For the world he thought he was going to be a part of, when he arrived at Hogwarts in his first year.

And it just so happens that this is the exact world that Voldemort is (allegedly) trying to create.

Severus Snape was angry, and vulnerable, and as such, he was practically the poster child for the type of person who would be susceptible to falling for a cult. Maybe he was recruited by his friends in Slytherin House. Maybe he was recruited directly. Either way, charismatic Tom Riddle came along, understood how he felt, where he was coming from, told him he deserved better, and offered him all of the things he never had in his life. And being at rock bottom, being the lowest of the low, to Severus it must have seemed like a miracle of an opportunity, or perhaps, like the only chance he had left.

Now, let me be extremely clear; everything I’ve written is not trying to EXCUSE Severus Snape for his actions. There is always a point where personal responsibility must come into play. Except for children born into cults or victims of kidnapping, nearly every person who has ever joined a cult has made the personal decision to join it. I’m just trying to express how unbelievably easy it is, for a Cult Leader to find people with damaged lives and low self-worth, to suck them in with promises of a fulfilling life and grandeur, and for those people to be easily swept up and brainwashed into believing that what they are doing is right. (Or that what they are doing is required, because the alternative is more horrifying.)

The type of people who joined the Death Eaters are the same type of people who joined Heaven’s Gate, or The People’s Temple, or yes, The Manson Family. Now, I’m just going to say, from my own personal point of view, I do not vilify anyone who’s ever joined a destructive cult. On the contrary, I feel sorry for them. Because most people who join a cult, don’t necessarily do it signing up for the… end result of what happened to them. Some of them totally do, like Heaven’s Gate. Most of them knew that the end result was going to be the “evacuation of their earthly vessel”. But the people who joined the Manson Family, for instance, did not initially join it KNOWING how it was going to end. They were part of the family long before Manson even came up with Helter Skelter, and by the time the Tate-LaBianca Murders took place, they were already too far gone to go against it.

I highly recommend anyone who’s interested in a humanizing view of former cult members, to read the essay “Leslie Van Houten: A Friendship” by John Waters. https://www.huffpost.com/entry/leslie-van-houten-a-frien_b_246953

Or, at the very least, listen to this 7 minute NPR interview with John Waters about the essay https://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=111585116

It’s the story of how notorious film maker John Waters, became friends with former Manson Girl, Leslie Van Houten, and about how she broke away from the cult after her conviction, how she’s spent the last 51 years of her life recovering from the psychotic influence of a maniac who’d promised her the world, and how even though she was convicted to life WITH a possibility of parole, it’s never been granted to her, despite the fact that she has done literally everything possible to try and atone for her crimes.

Maybe I’m just a bleeding heart. I’m pretty much the only person I know who feels sorry for Leslie Van Houten and other cult members who were brainwashed, abused, and manipulated into doing a lot of the horrible things they’ve done. But there are people in the world, who have committed FAR more heinous crimes than the Manson Family murders, and who are far less repentant than Leslie, but because those crimes weren’t as notorious, they get to walk free.

Addendum: When I first posted this, I had a few people point out to me that they had always associated Voldemort and the Death Eaters with Hitler and Nazi Germany. This is a perfectly fair point, but one that I personally don’t jive with, and the reason is simply the numbers. There were literally millions of people in the Nazi party during WW2. Death Eaters don’t even reach triple digits, as far as I’m aware. As I hinted at in this essay, I consider Voldemort and the Death Eaters to be MUCH closer to Charles Manson and the Manson Family. The Manson Family 100% had Nazi ideology, of course. "Helter Skelter” was Charles Manson’s prediction that there was going to be a massive race war; one that the Whites were going to lose, and that he and his Pure White family would emerge from it in order to rule over the remaining Blacks. Kinda... sounds like a Death Eater thing, huh?

Sorry. Back to Snape. There is a lot we don’t know about Severus’ actual time as a Death Eater. I think it can be reasonably assumed he’s never actually killed anyone before Dumbledore (In Prince’s Tale, Severus questions if his soul would be safe from killing Dumbledore, and Dumbledore implies that his soul would not be damaged by helping an old man avoid pain and humiliation. This leads me to believe that Severus never committed any soul-damaging murders before this). Beyond being a sneaky spy and delivering the prophecy to Voldemort, his time as a Death Eater is all up for conjecture.

Severus does make one important deviation from the typical cult member mold, however. In the end, he manages to break away from the cult. The scales fall from his eyes. In a figurative sense, the LSD has worn off. What made him sober up, was the threat to his last lifeline to the light. The one good fucking thing he’d ever had in his miserable life. He was brought back by genuine love. Ya know, the ENTIRE MESSAGE OF THE HP SERIES. And not only did he leave the cult, but he then spent the rest of his life actively attempting to destroy it, and atone for the mistakes he’s made, in an effort to bring back the world he’d been excited for, as an 11-year-old kid, so full of hope.

#Snape Meta #Severus Snape #Pro Snape #Snapedom #Snape Community #This will be the TRUE test of the tags #Essay Jam #Why It Was Practically Inevitable That Severus Snape Would Join A Cult

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rwrights · 3 years

Text

WE'LL BE OKAY - NAT.

summary : nat and you never got along. reasons still unknown, but it was affecting the whole team. steve assigns you both to a mission, with natasha acting harshly. she said something to you before heading off. she got in your head and the aftermath wasn't so pretty.

contents : angst (??) / fluff

warnings : mentions of blood, guns, bullying, cursing and just occasional marvel fight scenes.

NOT PROOFREAD. a/n : my first fic aaaahhh !! i was inspired by a lot of similar fics like this, but mostly by this WANDA FIC WRITTEN BY @/maximons - i suggest you give it a read BCS ITS SO GOOD ARRGH <3

you don’t know how the feud started between you and natasha. you couldn’t tell if it was because of your age or because you were new.

you had quite an age gap with the former assassin, being a striking 24 years old, but according to the russian - you might as well have been 12 years of age.

unlike most of the avengers, you had a decent childhood. it wasn’t filled with trauma, and death, and basically what some of them unfortunately went through. you grew up in the suburbs with your mum and two older siblings. you got all the toys you wanted and everyone loved you! because of that, you were always polite and cheery - it’s what made people like you. you were funny and usually managed to put a smile on people faces ; usually.

natasha found your positivity irking and unnatural. how could someone be so, happy? she felt as if you were shitting rainbows down her throat, and god, did she hate it. how could someone like you even have the guts to be an avenger?

she enjoyed picking fights with you out of nowhere, and as fun as it was at first - the hostility only progressed and became a disruption to the whole team, including you. you tried your best to really become friends with natasha - or at least be civil with her. but the more effort you made, the worse she treated you. all you wanted to do was make it a little easier for the team, you all have enough crap to put up with and the quarreling between the both of you was definitely not needed.

─── donk.

“nat! y/n! conference room one, now!” steve’s loud voice called out through the speakers placed throughout the compound.

you set your book aside before running down to the conference room as you were told. you walked passed natasha, already giving you a sharp glare from afar. she adjusted her speed and basically ran to where away from you. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her as you trailed behind.

you entered the room, greeting everyone politely before sitting down next to wanda, who saved a space for you.

“alright, now that we’re all here..” cap began, walking around the table where you were all sat. “we’ve got a mission for two of you,”

“did you call us here to compete for it? because i am so getting this mission.” natasha stated, pointing at everyone as if she was threatening them. “uh, no.. not exactly. we’ve already assigned the mission to two of you..”

“who?” she asked, wanting to leave the compound immediately and get some action (not the peepee way).

“you and y/n,”

hearing your name, you just froze. you couldn’t help but stare at steve as if he was out of his mind.

“what?!” natasha squeaked. “i’m sorry, but there is no way i’m going with her. it’s probably best if i go on my own!”

“that’s just mean..” you replied quietly, in your seat. you weren’t in the mood to argue, so you tried to contribute as little as possible into this conversation. “cap, if natasha doesn’t want to do the mission with me, i’m totally fine with sitting this one out.”

“oh, don’t suck up and use your y/n reverse psychology on this. it’s not gonna work,” she spat, obviously mad about the whole situation. “nat, i’m being serious. i know how much you’ve been dying to go out, so please. just take it.”

“no, y/n, you’re going with nat. we’ve decided this already.” steve stepped in, trying his best to set his foot down. “steve, i think you know this isn’t going to happen.” natasha glared.

“you either go together or y/n takes someone else.”

“steve! i swear i’m fine!” you argued, seeing how natasha’s ears were practically steaming from anger. “i-”

“no, you know what? fine. enjoy your mission, y/l/n.” she growled as she stormed out of the room. you couldn’t do anything but watch as she slammed the door shut. as much as you wanted to chase after her, you and everyone else in the room knew you’d probably make the situation a thousand times worse for natasha. you sighed and slammed your head on the table in exhaustion.

“we’re sorry, y/n. we thought her need for a mission would make her say yes even with the partnership.” bucky said from the other side of the room. your head shot up almost as quickly as you blinked. “what do you mean?”

“we thought sending you two on a mission together could… make the arguing stop - even by a little.” steve explained, sighing. you laughed at them, did they really think that would work? did they know the obstacles you went through to try to get on her good side? your first few weeks were HELL because of it.

“it’s alright.. clint? what do ya say?”

“always up for a mission, y/l/n.” he smiled, giving you a fistbump.

─── donk.

clint knocked on natasha’s door after the meeting. “nat? it’s me,” he called, nat opening the door a few seconds after.

“can you believe them? they know how much i dislike her and they’d send me on a mission with her? Bozhe mo! (oh my god!)”

“nat, y/n is awesome. it’s been months, it’s getting tiring.”

“oh, please. it took forever to get any of you guys to trust me. doesn’t mean it has to be the same with her.”

“nat, she’s a kid!”

“ugh, don’t say it like that. it makes my thoughts uneasy..” nat replied, mock-gagging. clint glared at her as he playfully shoved her. “you’re so stupid.”

“and oh, i’m going on the mission with her.”

“wait what?! but you’re my best friend, why would you take it!” she exclaimed. “i never say no to a mission, nat. you and i both know that. i thought you did, too.”

“i would’ve taken it, but.. no! i’m not losing this fight.” she huffed as she fell on the bed. “turn the tv on, i need to distract myself.”

he did as he was told and decided to stay and watch with her until dinner.

─── donk.

it was the day of your mission and you were making your way to the hangar. to your surprise, you saw natasha waiting there. you smiled at her only to receive another sharp glare. yeah, what a surprise. you looked away and decided to wait for clint.

not long after he arrived and said his goodbyes to natasha, just as you were going to aboard the ship, she grabbed your wrist and whispered in your ear.

“you’re gonna trip and get yourself shot, y/l/n.”

“what the hell? i’ve barely left and you’re already telling me i’m gonna fuck up?” you retorted, angrily. you weren’t in the right state to panic or stress. especially not before you were leaving. “have fun, y/n.” she smiled, dripping in faux kindness.

you followed clint onto the ship and couldn’t help but shake in fear. great, now you were worried. you didn’t want to fuck up. you weren’t planning to.

“you’ll be okay, y/l/n. i’ve got your back.” clint reassured, seeing the panic clouding on your face.

“thank you..” you mumbled, but natasha’s words never left your head.

─── donk.

“something seems off, clint.” you whispered, looking around and keeping your guard up. “i agree, y/l/n. it’s too quiet.. too easy.” he replied.

just as you were going to reply, someone charged at you from behind, getting a hold of your throat. by instinct, you kicked his shin and flipped him around. “clint!” you called out as you knocked your attacker out.

suddenly, groups of people were coming towards you - fully armed. “clint!” you screamed, pulling your gun out and shooting as many of them as you could. “shit!”

“y/n, it’s a trap!” clint finally replied, making you roll your eyes as you threw your fist at a guy’s temple. “yes, clint, i’m aware!”

“keep your guard up, y/l/n. you can do this!”

“there’s-” kick. “too many-” elbow. “of them!” shoot.

“try to hold out for as long as possible! i’m on my way,”

you looked up to see more men charging at you. “ah fuck,”

you grabbed one of the guns from the guys you managed to knock out and aimed. “clint, i can shoot right?” you asked for permission, not knowing if you were supposed to kill them or just simply knock them out.

“yes, y/n. you can shoot.”

“thank you!”

you silently thanked god for the gun you chose and started shooting at the guards. you quickly threw it away as they ran out of bullets and grabbed two pistols and continued to run and shoot away.

as you focused on getting a certain guard, one of them slid under you, quite literally slipping you off your feet - probably making you twist your ankle, giving one of them an opportunity to get a clean shot of your thigh.

the bullet went through your thigh, making you scream in pain. “fuck!” you shot back at him immediately and slid up onto the wall.

well great, another thing natasha was right about.

“y/n?!” clint called, hearing you scream. the worry in his voice was evident, it managed to make you smile for a second until you dodged another bullet.

“i’m okay!”

no, you weren’t. you could barely stand with your fucked up ankle and the hole in your thigh, but you continued to shoot and fight.

“just.. hurry up, please!”

you used your bad leg to kick a guy down and use him as a ledge. you cursed as you ran out of bullets. there were guns scattered across the floor, thanks to you. you just grabbed the nearest ones and looked back up.

as quickly as you did, a shot went through your shoulder and your abdomen. “gah fuck!” you collapsed on the floor as you tried to control the bleeding. you got up for a second to shoot back at the closest people and went back down. “clint, hurry up!” the pain was too much, the bleeding wouldn’t stop and your ankle looked like a fucking bean. you started to get nauseous, but tried your best to stay up.

“i’m here!” he yelled as he aimed at a few people in front of him. he ran towards you, finally seeing your state. “oh my god!” he kneeled down, putting pressure on your wounds to help with the bleeding, but the blood just kept seeping through “you just said you were okay, idiot!”

“i know, i didn’t want to worry you..” you mumbled. “no, no! y/n, you have to stay awake. come on!” he picked you up and started running away to go back to the ship. “you’re okay, y/n. tell me you’re okay right now.”

“i’m okay.. i’m okay, clint.”

“yeah, yeah, you are.”

you tried making it to the ship, but you were already so tired. “i’m gonna nap, clint..” you said before passing out.

─── donk.

clint alerted steve about you right when you passed out. they were rushing you out to the med bay to perform surgery on your injuries.

“she told me she was okay, steve. i thought she was okay!” clint screamed, he blamed himself for what happened to you. only if he arrived a few seconds before. you wouldn’t have been in the situation you’re in now.

“no, no. this isn’t your fault. neither is it hers, it happens, okay? we put ourselves at risk every time we step out of here. y/n was brave, alright?

wanda rushed down to the medbay, reaching for the door before pulling her back. “wanda, we have to let dr cho do her job right now. she’ll be okay.. y/n will be okay.”

she cried into steve’s shoulder - her best friend was being operated on. you were being operated on! the thought of you getting hurt never crossed her mind because she knew you were strong.

the team soon heard about the incident and let their worries out, obviously caring about you. natasha was confused about the whole hassle.

“vision!” she called out. he turned around and walked towards natasha. “how may i help you?”

“what’s the hassle about? everyone keeps whispering,”

“mr barton and ms y/l/n have returned from their mission, but ms y/l/n has suffered some major injuries and has been in surgery for about an hour now-”

hearing that, she sped to the medbay, thanking vision quickly. she saw wanda, steve and clint waiting around. “no, no, where is she?!” she yelled, making the three of them look at her in shock. “she’s still in-”

she tried running into the room like wanda did, getting pulled back by steve. “natasha, we have to let dr. cho do her job.”

“i need to see her!” she exclaimed, not being able to breathe. “what happened to her? what major injuries?!” she demanded.

“broken ankle, shot through her thigh, shoulder and abdomen..” clint recited, looking down at his feet. “where were you!? how could you let this happen?!” she roared, genuinely shocking them.

why did she suddenly care about you? well, yes, you suffered major injuries, but why was she getting mad?

“natasha! enough!” steve scolded. “this isn’t clint’s fault, and you know it.” he said, sternly. she didn’t reply as she panted. wanda held her hand as support, needing it for herself as well.

─── donk.

an hour later, dr. cho finally walked out of the room. everyone stood up in eagerness.

“is she okay?” steve asked, immediately.

“y/n suffered major blood loss, but we are lucky none of the three bullets hit any major arteries. she has also quite definitely broken her ankle, so i’m putting her on bedrest for at least 6 weeks until you get her up and going again.”

“main point, yes. y/n is okay.”

a smile broke out in all of their faces. “thank you, doc!”

“you may see her now, but she hasn’t woken up yet. don’t be too loud.”

they all walked into your room and stood beside your bed. “she looks so peaceful,”

“she definitely looks better right now than earlier,” clint joked, earning a soft laugh from the three of them. they stood by you for a while until natasha spoke up.

“um.. could- could i be the one who stays with her until she wakes up?”

they looked at the red head in surprise, “are you sure, nat?” steve asked.

“yeah.. i just want to be here.”

“alright,” they smiled softly at her before leaving.

she held your hand and stayed with you, waiting for you to wake up. it took for a while so she managed to fall asleep, holding your hand.

you slowly started coming back, groaning from the late pain you experienced. natasha jumped in shock and saw that you were awake.

“you’re awake!” she whispered, making you turn to her. “natasha? what’s happening?”

“you passed out during your mission. i know i told you you’d slip and get shot.. but i didn’t actually mean slip and get shot, idiot!” she scolded, flicking your forehead. “gah! it was an accident, i was doing fine,”

“no, you have three holes in your body. and not the good ones,”

“nat??” you replied, shocked. “did you just joke around with me?”

“no..”

“you’re holding my hand.. what did they bribe you with?” you asked, quickly getting suspicious. you tried pulling your hand away, but she only held onto you tighter. “nothing! i.. i volunteered. ask steve and wanda! and clint!” she replied, defending herself quickly.

“well, if you volunteered.. what do you want from me? i’m not gonna be leaving the compound for at least 2 months, so you can have all my missions-”

“no, y/n. truthfully, i just really want to apologize.”

“huh”

“i know i’ve made your first few weeks really hard and even after being here for months, i still managed to.. you know.. make it hard for you. in full honesty, i genuinely don’t know why i’ve been so horrible to you. i had a hard time opening up to people - and.. you were just so welcoming and i got scared. not an excuse for my actions, by the way! i was horrible and i’m so sorry.”

“thank you for your apology, i forgive you, nat.” you smiled, squeezing her hand. “i also.. have feelings for you.” natasha added, avoiding eye-contact with you. “you whAT?!”

“i-”

“i like you too! but are- are you serious?”

“yes, y/n… i like you. guess that’s why i was so defensive about.. literally everything.”

“nat.. thank you. for opening up to me. it genuinely means so much - especially after all this fucking time, you asshole.”

“are we okay now?” she asked, hopeful.

“yes, nat. we’re okay.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x reader #avengers au #marvel #black widow x reader #black widow

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