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always-and-forever-a-killjoy · 4 years

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Building Home Chapter 4

Hey fuckers and welcome to another chapter of Building Home! I've decided to switch to posting on Saturdays because Fridays are always chaotic, just a heads up, but I'll still be posting regularly for at least another six weeks, hopefully longer if I get my ass together enough to write the last six chapters of this in those six weeks (or at least like, Chapter 11 and 12). Anyways, the song for last week was so big/so small from dear evan hansen. This week's isn't quite so tricky, I don't think!

Title: Building Home

Chapter Title: I’ll keep you safe inside

Chapter Wordcount: 2263

Chapter Summary:

The crew settles into living with Autumn Assassin and the house of soup crew, and the Analog Wars suck ass.

POV: Dr. Death Defying

Warnings: Injury mentions, death mentions.. (If you want to know what parts to skip, go to the end notes on AO3- I also put a brief summary of any important info in those parts. Stay safe!)

Taglist: @wishiwasthemoon-tonight @sleevesareforlosers @stressed-depressed-emo-mess @tasteofamnesia @dagger-queen @no-braincells-here @piratecherricola (message me, send an ask, or reblog/reply to one of my posts if you want to be added or removed)

AO3 Link

Chapter 1 AO3 Link

Chapter 1 Tumblr Post

Chapter 2 Tumblr Post

Chapter 3 Tumblr Post

(Actual fic under the cut)

They stayed with Autumn Assassin for a while longer, talking with the killjoys of the household and generally having a better time than just living alone. It was a little strange to have three of them in one small room, but none of them minded much.

“I shared a room with my sister in Battery City,” Cherri Cola told the others. D restrained any surprise from showing on his face- Cherri almost never volunteered information about himself, and especially not his past. It was something killjoys didn’t talk about much and rarely shared with anyone except their crew. So D just nodded in acceptance.

“D and I are used to sharing,” Lily agreed. “So we’ll just have to stick it out,”

Autumn Assassin, meanwhile, had taken Cherri under their wing. They had the common trait of being an excellent shot, and Autumn had managed to get him a much nicer ray gun.

“Scarecrow model,” They informed him.

Cherri nodded as they positioned his hands on the new ray gun. “Right. Look around what you’re aiming at, keep your hands in this position and steady as you can, and don’t hesitate. Hesitation will kill you, kid.”

D was watching the lesson just like he had watched Lily teach Cherri, making sure Autumn wasn’t too rough. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the other killjoy- White Lily trusted them, and that was good enough for him- but he wanted to make sure Cherri’s wound healed properly as well. So he was sitting and watching as they taught Cherri how to shoot better than ever before. Cherri was taking to the lessons eagerly, wanting to learn how to fight.

“Don’t hesitate,” he repeated, and pulled the trigger.

Autumn Assassin whooped as the can fell. “Good shot, kid!”

Cherri was grinning as he glanced back at D. “A hundred and sixty.”

“I saw,” D grinned back. “That’s pretty fucking incredible, Cherri.”

“He’s a quick one,” Autumn agreed. “Needs to work on his hand-to-hand combat and reactions in the heat of battle, but he’s a good shot.”

“I’ll do hand to hand if you want to teach me,” Cherri offered quietly.

“Of course I do, kid, you’re a quick learner and frankly a lot of fun to teach.”

Cherri’s grin grew even wider. “I’m seventeen.”

“And I’m almost thirty, what’s your point? You’re a kid to me, even if you kick ass at shooting and probably other things too.”

“Fair.”

“Ready to kick some ass?”

“Yeah!”

“Be careful of your stitches,” D warned, but it wasn’t his place to stop Cherri.

“I will be, don’t worry. I don’t feel like getting hurt again,” the other said dryly.

“Good, I don’t want you to get hurt either.”

“Overprotective,” Cherri said with an eye roll, but he was smiling.

“I’d rather not have one of my best friends die because he was an idiot and ripped his stitches, thank you very much.”

“I’ll be careful.”

Cherri was…less than careful, in D’s opinion, but he didn’t rip any stitches while training with Autumn Assassin so that was a something, at least. He did, however, get very good at fighting with a variety of weapons, including but not limited to knives, ray guns, older style guns, and even simple hand-to-hand combat. Autumn Assassin’s name included ‘assassin’ for a reason, and it wasn’t that they could poison people.

Meanwhile, D and Lily dedicated their time to the radio station and recruiting more people. Killjoys had started to settle in other houses and buildings in this little town area, given how intact many of them were. It was becoming a whole little community, arsonists and crash queens living next to medics and some of the most peaceful rebels. So while Autumn Assassin was teaching Cherri to be terrifyingly good at fighting, D and Lily were wandering the area and getting to know the killjoys there.

They met Legolas Greenleaf, fantasy nerd and excellent maker of crepes, apparently, although given that it was the desert they couldn’t really verify that. He and his crew dressed like fantasy elves and kicked draculoid ass while shouting things like ‘dishonor on your lineage!’ and ‘spawn of Morgoth!’. There was also Tommy Chow Mein, who both of them knew from the wars and was running a little general store out of what had once been the town’s general store, and his assistant was a kid called Penny Pincher who had copper-colored hair and was a bit younger than Cherri.

The variety of killjoys in the town ranged from a short, grouchy killjoy who simply went by ‘Fuck’ and was one of the best medics out there to a tall, freckled killjoy called Angel Kisses who was an absolute sweetheart but would absolutely fuck you up. Ages ranged from some of the oldest soldiers of the Helium Wars (“I’m damn near forty.”) to the younger siblings and even children of some killjoys (“She’s a bit under a year, just barely weaned but we had to get her out of Battery City.”) From the news others brought in, they knew this wasn’t the only community of killjoys, but it was by far the largest. Here was where the center of the rebellion would be for another few years, and the unsuspecting Autumn Assassin’s house was at the center of it all.

Their house was already somewhat of a town hub, being the most intact and the one with the most residents, and Autumn Assassin seemed to encourage this.

“What with the amount of people here, we’ve always got extra food, and extra rooms for travelers. We’ve got the resources, might as well use them. And I don’t mind these dumbasses hanging around the living room, they bring some life to the place.” That was what they told D when he asked about it, leaning against the counter as the two of them watched the chaos unfold in their living room like it did almost every day.

“They certainly do bring life. Also chaos.”

Autumn Assassin cackled. “That’s true. Nothing wrong with a bit of chaos, though. We are killjoys, after all.”

“True, we are.” D frowned. “Do you worry about Lil and I bringing bli down on your head?”

“If you do, we’ll tell them to fuck off.” Their face grew more serious. “I’m not kidding, though, Doctor Death. We give no fucks about Better Living, and we do give some fucks about you and your little crew. I worry a little about putting the younger members of the house in danger, but all of them knew what they were getting into. And all of them know how to fight.”

“I’m assuming you taught them?”

“How did you guess?” Their voice was utterly deadpan. “Not all of them, but yeah. I insist on teaching everyone who comes through some basic hand-to-hand combat and how to shoot a ray gun, if they don’t know. It’s my way of keeping them safe. Like your radio station.”

It was true, 109 in the sky had many goals, but one of them was keeping the killjoys safe and informed. The more they knew about upcoming dangers, the better they could fight back, and WKIL served as a hub of information. Killjoys radioed in or brought news of whatever they had found, from a supply truck that had been raided and had some extra supplies to exterminators coming to the desert. Code words were a part of this too, a cobbled together mixture of killjoy slang and actual code that served as yet another line of defense. Even if Better Living Industries figured out how to listen in, it wasn’t as if they would understand half the words being said, and Dr. Death Defying knew they had to keep it that way. Secrecy was essential to a successful rebellion, as Lily had put it. So the code was an important part of running the radio station, alongside the technology and the consistent news.

Even as they began to travel around again, taking the news van to broadcast from different Zones as a way of confusing Better Living Industries, they continued to return to Autumn Assassin’s house and the town around it as a home base. The room that Autumn Assassin had given them at the very start was theirs permanently now, and Autumn always kept it open for them. Sometimes they would be gone a day or two, sometimes an entire week or even a month or more. It depended on how close they thought Better Living Industries was to catching on, and traveling around seemed to be working as a method of confusing the corporation. In addition to the FM radio station of WKIL, multiple AM stations had sprung up that took the info from D’s daily broadcast and spread it over a wider range. Their signal was much easier to interfere with, which was why the original WKIL was an FM station, but it got the news out to the entirety of the Zones, providing an invaluable service.

So the rebellion continued to grow, month after month, until the Zones were alive with killjoys and color, loud noise and firefights. Cherri’s training at the hands of Autumn Assassin had only made him more bold, much to D’s worry, but he had to admit that Cherri’s borderline insane antics were a very effective method. He was one of the few killjoys unafraid to fight almost any level of Better Living Industries employee, and one of the most effective at it too.

Lily, meanwhile, was working on organizing larger raids and even attacking Battery City itself. D was her right hand, as always, but he was also occupied with the radio station and other things. So Cherri had stepped partially into their role, accompanying Lily when she went on missions and standing by her side as a very effective deterrent against exterminators. Better Living Industries had intensified their efforts to find Lily and D, and Cherri was now top of their wanted lists as well. He had gone from an unremarkable and frankly unintimidating sixteen-year-old to one of the finest shots in the desert and a highly wanted killjoy, the name Cherri Cola whispered almost as often as you could hear whispers of Dr. Death Defying or White Lily.

He had gained a reputation for being one of few killjoys who usually worked alone, often taking on missions solo (and giving D and Lily a heart attack when he stumbled back in with a stab wound or ray gun shot, bruised and battered). That wouldn’t change until their last few crew members joined up, and even then, Cherri was fiercely independent both as a fighter and a person. He was loyal, that was for sure, willing to fight just about anything for D or Lily, but he would always prefer solo raids or missions.

That scared D shitless, but they couldn’t stop him and they trusted Cherri to keep himself safe, to an extent. He was still more reckless than D or Lily would like, but neither of them could really blame him.

“I don’t know what he’s running from, but there’s something.” That was Lily, plunking down in a chair next to them.

“We’re all running from something, aren’t we?”

“Dark but true.”

The two of them knew what each other was running from better than anyone else. Both somewhat happy children back in Battery City, there was nothing in their childhood that they ran from, only a faint sense of nostalgia, but the war they had fought in had changed them both in ways they didn’t like to think about. There was a past there to run from, horrors to set right. D knew that Lily had a sense that she needed to put things right, needed to atone in some way for her deeds during the Helium Wars. If that atonement, that fight, took her life, she would accept it as such.

It might have been selfish of him, but he would not atone. They were trying, of course, to make the world a better place, fighting for the future they believed in, but the past was the past, and D refused to die for the crimes he had committed then. He had fought to survive for long enough that he wasn’t giving up now, regardless of what fate would be just for them. The best they could and would do now was fight for the future, not die for the past.

It wasn’t easy for him either, watching young killjoys fight and be injured and even die, but he had to believe in what they were fighting and dying for. They would break the stranglehold of Better Living Industries, they would live free and bring the same for their children and all the generations that would come after them. All this wasn’t for nothing.

That was what D told themself as they watched Cherri curl into a ball in the corner of the room, protecting the slash on his side like a wounded animal. That was what they repeated when Lily’s sobs shook the mattress at night, keeping the others awake even if they didn’t dare break the silence of the room. D just prayed the others’ spirits wouldn’t end up as broken as their bodies after claps.

This pattern continued, day after day and week after week as their missions got more dangerous and Cherri grew even more reckless and solitary. It wouldn’t be truly broken until far after the final few members of their crew arrived, but the one who arrived next did by far the most towards that end.

#cherri cola #dr. death defying #auri writes #ttlofk #white lily #autumn assassin

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thoughtfulfangirling · 4 years

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[Revised] Bubblegum Facade

I... don’t think I ever posted my revision of this fic to Tumblr? Just put it up on AO3 I guess? So... I’m going to fix that because I want it on my blog.

The fic’s original description mostly still covers this:

“This fic was inspired from a combination of Docholligay’s fic here about air fresheners and the talk following about how D.Va might feel about Bubblegum after her fame in Korea’s MEKA. I just sat down and chucked the thoughts all out, so it’s not very well organized or constructed, so there’s you’re warning.”

I just changed things to incorporate her Shooting Star short since it was originally written some time before that. In a way, adding onto it made things messier but it was still fun SO YEAH.

In her peripheral, the small dot of neon-green went dark. Hana’s eyes swung for a moment to make sure she saw it correctly. The stream had cut out. She felt a wave of relief pour through her.

Usually, being live helped her. She had an audience to perform for, so it kept her head in the game. It made the shouting, the crisp orders, the drum of gunfire and bass of robotic legs pounding the earth for purchase all seem surreal, part of the game. She always knew it wasn’t, but tricking the mind to experience it like a game had powerful advantages.

But today, things were hard. Harder than she remembered them before. The dissonance of her fun-loving, competitive fervor against her need to concentrate like she never had before, with no energy for wrapping herself in a singular personality, had become too much. And squad B-14 was all but cornered and under hard fire. Her own squad needed to get to them.

“We need you on stage in five, D.Va.” Hana didn’t look away from her mirror, and the busy stage manager hurried on past the dressing room.

On the other side of the room, her PR manager Mok put a magazine with her face on it down and stood up, off the couch. He walked over to Hana’s chair and put his hands on the back of it, gripping the sides and looking at her reflection intently. “You know what to do kid. It’s just like usual. We had a great victory today. Okay?”

Hana raised her eyes from her own reflection to look at Mok’s. He didn’t usually try to pep talk her—she usually never needed it. It jarred her to realize how far gone she was, that she hadn’t built up her facade enough after the battle. She felt like she was out there still. Two hours hadn’t quite passed since they’d arrived back to the compound in retreat, really, so it should be no surprise after all. But why couldn’t she keep her hands from shaking if she lifted them out of her lap? Why was her face so smooth? Untouched? The battle out there had been perhaps one of the deadliest she’d been in, and here she was, unmarked and unharmed, at least physically. Unless her pounding heart and the unnatural heat flushing her skin turned into a heart attack. This didn’t feel at all like how those were described though. Also, she wished the ringing would stop.

The comm line opened up, heavy with static. “Unit D-01, we’ve lost four MEKAs. We need back up now .” Duri’s voice cracked into Hana’s ear. Their own unit had already lost two.

“Copy B-14.”

“D-01, disengage. We’ll come up on B-14’s flank.” Captain Myung instructed. “D.Mon, Overload, cover our retreat. Now move out!”

The MEKAs around Hana began falling back, still firing, but preparing for the boost off to the east. D.Mon and Overload’s MEKAs threw out defense matrixes. “Commander, there’s too many ahead for two MEKA’s to hold alone!” D.Mon’s voice came through desperately, on the verge of panic. Hana liked D.Mon. She’d been the first friend she’d made in MEKA, not treating her like a child at all. Hana hadn’t fallen back yet for that reason, throwing her defense matrix up after Overload’s went down, alternating. Three MEKA’s had enough power in their Defense Matrixes to rotate between and hold off fire indefinitely, but two would run out of power too quickly. Provided they could keep the Gwishins at a distance.

“D.Mon, hold your ground. D.Va, fall back! That’s an order.”

“Lowering Defense Matrix.” D.Va said, pressing the communication button as she said it. “Preparing to fall back.” She was needed elsewhere. There was still a squad that needed backup, and if the Kinshin’s tried to follow the larger group...

“Captain Myung!—”

“Stand your ground D.Mon!” Captain Myung’s voice was sharp. A moment later, D.Va hit her boost and flew off after the rest of her unit, leaving D.Mon and Overload behind.

Overload’s voice, light and excited, came through saying, “C'mon Yuna D! We can take these tin cans! Then the rest of the unit will owe us for having saved their sorry asses!”

As Hana stood to pull on her sport’s jacket—pink as her MEKA and blue as a robin’s egg—Mok pushed something into her shaking hands. Hana lifted the soft, thick packet. She looked down. More pink; her brand of bubblegum. There was the little rabbit head on the outside of the wrapper. The all too familiar, sickly scent of bubblegum wafted up to her. She hadn’t felt hungry since the battle was over, but they’d made her eat a protein bar and drink some water. It felt hard and heavy in her stomach now, and this scent just made it turn over.

“Hold onto that if you need to. Keep your hands steady. Go ahead and take one now.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Hana snapped, sounding more like herself than she expected. It had the desired effect though. Wary relief washed into Mok’s eyes. He thought he had her usual self back. “I know how to do this better than you.” She flipped her hair out from under the collar of her jacket. Yes. Now she could see that he believed everything was back to as how it should be. She saw him shift his stance—feet shoulder width apart, hips slightly forward, shoulders squared. He was more military than PR. He had always been here more to make sure to tell the MEKA narrative how they wanted, not to tell her how to be a celebrity. She knew that all on her own.

“You’re right. So get out there and do it! Remember, they can’t have any hint of how bad it got out there.”

“You mean how bad it is out there.” Her voice was light and sassy, not at all bitter and dark… as she really felt. This was why they’d cut out her feed wasn’t it, during the battle? Maybe if she had been able to keep up her facade, they could have played up that, while there were losses for MEKA, there were more for the omnics. But her mask had slipped.

Mok’s eyebrows had lowered, darkening his brow with anger at her insubordination. This wasn’t an unusual exchange, but it could make him suspicious just now.

Hana leaned in to look in the mirror and made a show of inspecting her eye-liner and touching it up. “What’s the story about losing the stream? Technical difficulties? You know the audience is going to want to hear why they didn’t get to watch the rest of the game.”

“Oh yes. Thank you for reminding me—”

“This is what I do, Mok.” She infused the words with exasperation at Mok’s ineptitude. He waved it off as usual.

“We did technical difficulties last time. Tell them you bumped the signal.” He had a weasel’s look on his face. She was quite certain they planned to go with technical issues until she’d annoyed him enough.

She put her eyeliner down. “If you think they’ll believe that.” She waved airily. “I suppose everyone makes mistakes sometimes.” Putting her eyeliner down had put her hand back by the pack of gum which was resting on the table. She picked it up and slipped two sticks out. Eight remained in the packet. She didn’t unwrap either stick, just kept them in her hand and slipped the rest of the pack in her pocket.

“They’re ready for you.”

“D-01 where are you?! We’re down to four MEKAs. We need backup now!” Druri called from ahead of them.

“Captain Myung! We can’t get out from under this fire—” An explosion cut off the communication, but everyone heard D.Mon’s cry. That whole sector had gone up. The little electronic indicators for where D.Mon and Overload’s MEKAs were went black. Offline.

“That explosion should keep Omnics from coming up behind us.” Someone commented, for even the omnics near that explosion would also be gone.

Just like D.Mon and Overload were now gone. If there had been even three of them behind, they could have retreated after the rest of D-01 had fallen back.

“We must abandon mission.” Captain Myung said through the communicator. It was uncharacteristic of her, commenting in battle rather than ordering.

“Commander! We have a chance at least getting B-14 out. There are no omnics behind us. Their four plus our remaining six is a full unit. It should be enough to get to them and back to base.” It was his second in command, Casino, speaking. They were smart and calculated. Only age kept them from being a captain of their own.

“We can’t risk it. Fall back!”

“I’m sorry Commander. I can’t leave Duri out there when we know we’d have enough!” Casino insisted. “I’m going on ahead.”

“We’re going with Casino Commander!” Hana heard King call out. No one was falling back as Sun ordered.

“D.Va, fall back now!” He ordered in a voice that brooked no arguments. D.Va’s fists tightened around her controls. Would they dismiss her? If she also refused? She closed her eyes, and turned her MEKA around. As she and Sun retreated, Druri got back on the communicator just long enough to plead for help, scream, and communications to go dead. They hadn’t even been close in saving her.

As D.Va made her entrance, she determined not to think about it. Two MEKAs made it home. Casino was one of them, and they had nothing to look forward to in MEKA holding. No one from B-14 had survived. All that, and they’d had to use their last resort weapon which demolished Yeongdo-gu district along with the Gwishin. One of those from her team who hadn’t made it back had died to that weapon.

Determined to pull herself together, Hana opened her palm as she walked across the stage toward the podium to make her public statement. She lifted the two pink sticks enough that cameras would be able to catch her brand before she popped them in her mouth and crumpled the wrappers. They caught in her dry mouth. For a moment, she struggled to chew. She kept her face happy, waving as she went, but found herself momentarily alarmed that she would choke on it.

And then saliva finally rushed in, almost too much. She swallowed quickly, almost swallowing one of the sticks of gum in the process. It made her cheeks sting, as though it was sour instead of sweetness she was tasting.

“What a day!” She said as she reached the microphone. “It was an intense stream wasn’t it folks?” Hands raised so suddenly about the room that she absurdly pictured that old American Whack-a-Mole game. She almost wished she had a giant mallet with which whack their arms with.

“So intense, I think I hit the button to end the stream without meaning. What a fool I felt when I realized I’d been talking to dead air!” The hands had gone down as she’d continued. This was the question they had for her, and now the audience laughed. “Before you think it means I’m losing my touch, rest assured it’s the only mistake I’ve made today!” Strangely, the lie itself came out easily. She should have stayed with D. Mon and Overload. She should have gone with Casino to help Druri and her crew.

She popped her gum at that moment, causing the scent to fill the air and choke her as she breathed in. Fighting back the sudden urge to vomit, she struck a pose instead, playing it up for her adoring, ignorant audience.

#I haven't even reread this #Just went looking for it today becasue I was remidned of it and couldn't find it #So who knows if it even remotely stands up to me now but it still deserves to be on my blog #so there #Bubblegum Facade #Revised Bubblegum Facade #Overwatch #OWfanfiction #D.Va #Hana Song #tfgoc #tf fanfiction

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royalprinceroman · 7 years

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Royal Duties

A/N: So its fair to say that if @availe draws a comic, there’s a 99.9% chance I’m gonna probably write a full drabble about it. Okay? Okay. Let’s do this. Prompt (Based on the prompt by @somany-fandoms-solittle-time): Roman comes out of his room after a day of adventuring and brainstorming ideas to find Logan, Patton, and Virgil… drunk out of their minds. Roman’s room based off of a fic by @ssides Warnings: Alcohol/Alcohol mention

Word Count: 1,615

Pairings: None

Tag List: @paperheartsbooks

(Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!)

– Roman enjoyed his good idea days. Normally his room was boring and drab, but when his thoughts began to form into full on plots for future videos or whathaveyou, his room turned into an landscape of adventure and wonder. Time passed differently or at least it felt like it did. Journeying through caverns and forests crawling with creatures determined to stop him from discovering new ideas… minutes turned into hours with little effort.

His ideas were manifested in rabbits, small animals who were hard to pick out in the dreary landscape. Catching them was only half the battle however. The creatures who got in his way were pitch black and terrifying - a personification of self doubt. As scary as they were, it only took one slice of his sword to expel them. Roman tended to get a bit dangerous when figuring them. Sometimes he’d see how many he could get into one area and fight all at once. At the end of this specific day however, he had managed to catch two rabbits and those particular ideas were fantastic. Definitely something to pass onto Thomas later. His room returned to its original state; and Roman took a deep breath, the tension in his body relaxing. Even though he hadn’t been in any real danger, the toll of fighting straight for hours still wore his body down tremendously. He glanced over at the clock hanging on the wall noticing it was nearly 9pm. “Goodness…” Roman mumbled aloud. “That late already? I hope Patton won’t be upset with me if I missed dinner.” The prince put away his sword and decided to go visit his fellow traits in the common area.

[Several Hours Earlier] Rainy days were not fun. Even for an introvert like Virgil, there were times where just sitting around was stupid boring. The dark trait checked his Tumblr for the 27th time in the past 27 minutes with nothing new to show. He looked around the room to see Patton sitting on the couch flipping through what looked like a scrapbook and Logan was sitting at a desk in the corner, tapping away on a laptop. The room was eerily silent except for that.

“…I’m bored.” Virgil stated aloud, breaking the silence. “Oh? What do you wanna do, kiddo?” Patton asked looking up at him. He closed the book in his lap and sat it on the couch.

Virgil sighed. “I don’t know but if I don’t do something… my thoughts could give me something to do.”

Patton rubbed his neck with his right hand. “I can understand that…. I’ve been trying to distract myself all day.” His eyes looked down towards the floor. “You have got to be joking!” Logan abruptly shouted, pushing himself away from the computer desk and standing all in one motion. This caused both Virgil and Patton to jump and look at Logan. “This is absolutely ridiculous…” he mumbled. The logical trait began to pace back and forth behind his chair. “What’s going on with you?” Virgil asked, crossing his arms. Logan mimicked Virgil’s pose. “It’s… a bit difficult to explain.” He tapped his head with his left pointer finger. “Let me just say what I have been working on since very early this morning has all been made pointless.” Logan scoffed under his breath; Virgil was nearly certain he had heard an obscenity pass through his lips but Virgil let it go. “…now I don’t even want to look at it. I shouldn’t let bother my thinking, but…” Virgil looked from the frustrated Logan to the melancholy Patton and then over at the kitchen. “Patton, I know what I wanna do.” Virgil said as a grin spread across his face. Patton raised his eyebrows as Virgil walked over to the kitchen. Logan, desperate to get his mind off of his failed work, followed the purple clad man. Virgil dug into the pantry cabinet, pulling out all kinds of random food, trying to get to the back. He wasn’t even looking at what he was touching. Logan realized exactly what Virgil was going for. “Virgil…” Logan’s tone of voice became like that parent who caught you red handed. “Oh come on you can’t say a good buzz wouldn’t feel great, Logan.” Virgil insisted, pulling out a rather large jar of a cinnamon alcoholic beverage. He shook the bottle gently and smirked. Logan sighed and Virgil nudged him. “Come onnnnnnn~ it’s time we live a little.” Virgil pushed past Logan and back into the living room. Logan dropped his shoulders, giving in. He reached into a different cabinet taking 3 shot glasses out and followed his too excited fellow trait. “Ooh….” Patton said interested as Virgil showed him the bottle. “It’s been awhile since we had any of that.” Patton looked closer at the bottle after Virgil sat it down on the coffee table. He didn’t touch it however. “…so do we just straight drink it?” “Definitely not.” Logan said quickly, sitting down the shot glasses with a few clinks. “This isn’t a mixed drink; it’s just pure whiskey. You have to take "shots” of it.“ He pulled his computer chair over towards the table and took a seat. Virgil sat down on the couch next to Patton, grabbing the bottle. He filled each shot glass with expert precision. "Alright… let’s make it interesting.” Logan raised an eyebrow as he reached for his glass. Patton grabbed his glass, smelling the contents and nearly being overwhelmed. “… let’s do a drinking game. For every shot you take you gotta say screw you to something that’s made you mad in the past. Sound fair?” Virgil explained. Logan and Patton exchanged glances before agreeing to the game. The three traits shared multiple frustrations and disappointments, all taking shots as they did so. The bottle of the cinnamon whiskey slowly drained down as the time past.

Roman appeared outside of his room and was welcomed by silence. “That’s…odd.” Normally when he returned to the common area he was greeted with atmospheric noises of Disney movies or even just light conversation but this time… nothing. He quickened his pace towards the main living area trying to keep his thoughts from going towards the negative. As he arrived at the doorway, his leg was suddenly grabbed which nearly made him scream. “Romannnnn~” The prince looked down to see Patton hugging his left leg tightly. His face was flushed. “I…. love youuuuuu….” Patton slurred, not opening his eyes. “Wait, what is going on?” Roman asked, confused. Before he could consider anything else, he looked up to see Virgil standing in the middle of the room with his arms at his side. Roman saw tears drying on his face. “Virgil…?” The dark trait instantly turned his head towards Roman, causing Roman to jump at how he reacted. They met eyes and Virgil dashed over to Roman. The prince tried to move but Patton’s grip on his leg had him locked in place. Virgil wrapped his arms around Roman, hugging him. Roman couldn’t help the heat that rose to his face. He balanced himself by putting his left hand on Patton’s head. “I don’t hate you or something. I’m so sorry for everything, don’t be mad.” Virgil rambled, his voice nearly just as slurred as Patton’s. “Please, I’m gonna try and become a better person. Princey, you are good, okay? okay???? okay????” He kept repeating okay under his breath, sobbing into Roman’s right shoulder. Roman tried to calm his racing heart. What the heckity heck was going on? “Yes…Virgil… I know… it’s fi-” as he was trying to console Virgil, movement in the kitchen caught his eye. “LOGAN! GET OFF THE CABINET!” He shouted in disbelief. Logan was standing on the countertop, and it looked like he was organizing the dishes in the cabinet…by color? His face was flushed red, matching Virgil and Patton. “‘Kayyyyyy~ Here goesssss….” Logan laughed his response not paying attention to his footing and sure enough, down he went to the kitchen floor with a slam. Roman winced but he heard Logan laughing so he knew the logical trait was fine.

“Ughhh….” Patton moaned, pulling off his cardigan. “Patton?” Roman asked. He looked down to see Patton covering his mouth. “I… feel sick.” Patton whined. Roman also felt sick but for a very different reason. He managed to get Patton to the bathroom before any mess could happen. He put Patton’s cardigan back around his shoulders. Patton was in and out of consciousness, holding onto Roman’s left arm and Virgil imitated Patton but on Roman’s other side. Logan had fallen asleep on the kitchen floor but Roman has managed to slightly wake him and get him onto the living room floor. He curled his arms into his chest murmuring to himself as Roman wrapped some bandages around his head covering a cut on his forehead from the fall. The prince laid Logan’s glasses next to him for when he woke. The prince collapsed into a sitting position on the floor, putting his hands into his lap. Virgil cuddled him on his right and Patton leaned against him on his left. Roman looked up eyeing the empty whiskey bottle on the coffee table. “Well… I guess that explains it…” Roman sighed. “…and now I’m even more exhausted than I was before….” As he looked at the three sleeping boys, he couldn’t help but crack a small smile. He closed his eyes leaning against the couch, letting his body relax. Virgil and Patton adjusted themselves to cuddle him and Logan even rolled closer. He drifted off to sleep with only one thought on his mind: they may have been idiots…but they were his idiots.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #ts fanfic #ts fanfiction #roman sanders #creativity sanders #virgil sanders #anxiety sanders #logan sanders #logic sanders #patton sanders #morality sanders #tw: alcohol #tw: alcohol mention #my writing #vigilantvirgil writes

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lj-writes · 7 years

Text

@illiterallylondon The sheer length of our thread was verging on a health and safety violation, so if you don’t mind I’ll start a new one and make use of the cut tag. I will also attempt to categorize and summarize the issues, for any poor soul following along at home.

As I understand, the issues are as below:

1. Whether Finn could be interpreted to be a match for Kylo Ren according to your shipping pattern

2. Whether it is unfair to Kylux fans to argue that the popularity of Kylux is motivated in part by subconscious racism

3. Whether Hux is, in fact, more popular than Finn and Poe

4. Whether Hana Yori Dango proves the popularity of your stated shipping pattern unaffected by race

5. Whether you are a sea lion who leeches off others’ time and energy, then claims moral victory when others won’t give it to you

6. Miscellaneous

I will proceed in this numbered order, rearranging the points and statements as necessary.

1. Whether Finn could be interpreted to be a match for Kylo Ren according to your shipping pattern

So you insist, over and over again, that your interpretation of the characters is the only valid one and your interpretation of why Finn can’t be part of a megaship with Kylo Ren (or whomever) must hold true. You kept gerrymandering the hell out of your so-called shipping pattern, saying the characters can’t be moral opposites, can’t want to kill each other etc.

Except you admit that shipping patterns are malleable and not that rigid and furthermore don’t hold across fandoms, see Point 2 below:

2. Whether it is unfair to Kylux fans to argue that the popularity of Kylux is motivated in part by subconscious racism

“Yet you imply that Kylux is only popular due to racism by saying that if the shipping pattern was a major factor in the pairing’s popularity then Finnlo would be a ship, thus people only like Kylux because they like white people. Which, yes, is saying that race overrides characterization.”

You are completely misunderstanding what I was trying to do there. What I’m getting at is that your “shipping pattern” is bunk. You acknowledged yourself that this is malleable and based on fandom thinking by saying in regards to the shipping pattern applying to Drarry (emphasis added), “regardless of how in-character that may be.”

Also you contradicted yourself when you said near the end of your post:

‘I said in my original paragraph that your argument is that fans of Kylux are moved “primarily” by racism. And did not mention it being the “only factor” anywhere. At. All.’

You... literally said “[I] imply that Kylux is only popular due to racism.” So you did, indeed paint my argument as race being the only factor of Kylux’s popularity? LOL.

To address your constant assertion that I’m saying I’m saying Kylux is only popular due to racism (with ridiculous claims that characters of color should have no fans at all if this were true), let me try to explain it this way:

Let’s say a show has two characters, A and B, and ten fans. There are a number of reasons why any given fan might like A or B. It could be characterization, gender, their plot, background, all these are factors to different degrees. If race is a factor, it would--together with other factors--weight preference one way or the other. So if A is white and B is Black, seven fans might like A while three like B. If A is Black and B is white, four fans might like A while six fans like B. Under this scenario there are three fans who would have liked B better regardless of race, but for the fandom as a whole race still played a role in who was more popular. It doesn’t have to be a primary or exclusive factor, as you kept trying to paint as my argument, it can still be a decisive factor without being either.

That’s all I was saying from the start, that race affects fandom preferences as a whole. I’m not talking about individuals, but in the aggregate there are discernible patterns which you have acknowledged. If you agree, as you claim, that race can affect fandom preferences and is a factor, then we’re in agreement. There’s nothing to discuss and you caused us both to waste a whole lot of time and words over nothing. Happy?

“…Again, I’m forced to repeat myself, but Kylux shippers are people. Calling out racism in fandom is calling out the shippers who participate in said fandom. Unless you’re saying that shippers aren’t people.”

I “called them out” as being affected by subconscious racism. The exiestence of which you acknowledged. The only sense in which I called anyone racist (words that you put in my mouth, by the way) is in the sense that they are affected by racism in their fannish preferences, which is a systematic issue and not a matter of personal morality. The only sense in which you could possibly feel judged by this assertion is by making these systematic issues about yourself, which is exactly what you are doing.

Put another way, if you think subconscious racism in fandom exists but it’s unfair to say fandom racism has any meaningful effects (because they affect people, obviously, and that according to you is calling them racist), what would be a good way to talk about fandom racism? Is there a way to talk about fandom racism that you think doesn’t call people out or judge them for being racist?

Also notice the giant dose of hypocrisy in this:

“Thanks, again not a part of some of these fandoms but I’m taking your word for it [that conflicting explanations are given for CoCs’ comparative lack of popularity].”

So like, you think it’s sooooo unfair for me to supposedly call Kylux shippers racist, but it’s okay to call Rick/Darryl shippers or Steve/Bucky shippers racist? Because I’m actually applying the exact same logic to all these ships, that their popularity, and the lack of popularity of characters of color ships, are driven in large part by subconscious racism. Yet you’ll take my word for it when it comes to fandoms you don’t know. Why do you think it’s okay to call a bunch of people you don’t know racist?

Also, if you think this:

“Not personally a part of the MCU fandom (I tend to strongly dislike superhero movies) so I can’t speak to this point.“

is the same thing as this:

“I’m taking your word for it and accepting that as someone who is a part of the fandom”

...then you really need to update your communication skills. Like seriously.

3. Whether Hux is, in fact, more popular than Finn and Poe

“Hux does not surpass the hero in popularity in the majority of fandom, just as Boba Fett and Tarkin and TR-8R do not. However in more niche communities (Kylux AO3 fandom, Boba Fett/Tarkin fansites and certain SW fansites) they surpass the heroes in popularity.“

This is an unwarranted change of subject. From the very first post I was talking about what one might call “deep” fandom--the part of fandom that writes fanfics and ships characters. This is by no means the majority of the moviegoing audience, so your trying to shift the discussion to the larger casual fandom is a derailment.

4. Whether Hana Yori Dango proves the popularity of your stated shipping pattern unaffected by race (+ Buffy fandom)

“So let me get this straight: you previously argue that people of color can be racist (which I agree with btw), then go on to imply that the fans of BOF are Asian-American therefore racism likely isn’t a factor…?“

That is not what I argued at all, please read again. What I said was, emphasis added:

“Actually race still does affect fans [then going on to cite the disproportionalely Asian-American viewership of K-Dramas]“

This was in response to your statement that “I explicitly cited HYD as an example for race not affecting fans of a series.”

So like... I’m not sure how you got from here to there, but maybe calm down and stop jumping to conclusions?

Also, the part where I said “Also telling fans that they have nothing to complain about because Finn and Poe still have followings” was in response to this part:

“Kylo and Hux are more popular. It doesn’t mean Finn and Poe are unpopular within the AO3/Tumblr fandom at all. There’s nothing lacking in their characters, they just don’t fit the mold.“

Since my entire OP was about comparative popularity, not about Finn and Poe having some sort of following, this misses the point and comes across as disingenuous. Also, as discussed above, your whole “mold” argument is bunk.

“Buffy is more popular than Spike but Kylo is also more popular than Hux.”

Um... false comparison because Kylo’s not the hero, in case you haven’t noticed.

“My point in HYD is that. Again. The ship is non-white and falls into the shipping pattern, and is popular. Indicating that race didn’t bother HYD fans,”

Okay, so you’re moving the goalposts again and again here. I specifically talked about popularity comparisons between characters of different races in the same show, but you’re trying to drag the discussion to a monoracial show. Also, as I have said and you have accepted, this same shipping pattern does not hold in multiracial shows such as the MCU and The Walking Dead.

Besides, as I have already said, race (race, not racism), does in fact affect the viewership of K-Dramas. So in addition to being a derail your basic premise fails.

“The American version would’ve been much more popular if all people cared about was race and not characters that fall into a pattern of interest.”

I. Never. Said. All. People. Cared. About. Was. Race. Stop putting fucking words in my mouth, and if you want to rehash this point again please read my “A and B” example above. Carefully. Also you contradicted yourself yet again when you claimed you never claimed that I said race was the only factor.

I specifically made intra-show comparisons between characters in the same show because there are too many factors that affect the comparative popularity between shows. The American version of HYD failed because it sucked. I never said a show’s quality doesn’t matter and that race overcomes all other factors. Again, stop derailing and stop putting words in my mouth.

I already addressed your point about the YouTube video. Don’t try to waste my time more than you already have.

“To start with, I didn’t say that younger girls don’t write fic, just that most HYD fans who are teens (especially having a shitload of content for their OTP) aren’t as likely to produce content for said OTP. Which makes sense seeing as there is a disproportionate amount of fans vs the amount of fics in the HYD FFN archive.”

How do you know it’s disproportionate? This goes back to my point about casual fandom and deep fandom. Deep fandom is only a tiny, tiny drop in the sea of casual fandom. Only a small portion of HYD fans will write fic, but the same is true of any show. So your attempt to extrapolate some vast hidden fan base for HYD out of proportion to the number of fanfics doesn’t work, really. Especially since the original topic in the first place is deep fandom, not casual fandom, so chalk this up as yet another derail.

Also your points about K-drama and FanFiction.Net demographics are either hilariously deceptive or hilariously ignorant, I can’t decide which?

“Because compared to the other numbers in that study the 16-20 group made up the majority of K-Drama viewers.“

That’s... that’s not what a majority means. A little over one-third of K-Drama viewers are in the 16-20 group, which contradicts your assertion that “most of the HYD fans are teenaged girls.”

“Also in pointing out that FFN tends to have younger writers kind of confirmed my argument that searching for HYD fic in AO3 would be taking an inaccurate sampling since most teen writers use FFN.”

Um, “most FFN writers are teens” is not the same thing as “most teen writers use FFN.” Just pointing that out.

“The people who wrote fic for HYD were bound to post it on FFN, but most of the HYD fandom really couldn’t be bothered to write fic for it. Otherwise we’d have much more than 1k fics in the FFN archive right now.“

What... you’re not even making sense anymore... do you notice the circular reasoning? You’re starting with an assumption (FFN underrepresents HYD’s popularity) that is also the conclusion (HYD is a lot bigger than the number of FFN fics would indicate). Holy shit, this is such a mess. It’s like a car accident I can’t look away from.

“I gave you evidence which you responded to once and never mentioned again. How do you explain the millions of views on videos like this (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oVxQ_g2NL6g) otherwise? If we’re taking the amount of fic to equate to the amount of fans (about 1k) then where are these millions of English-speaking people coming from?”

As I said above, only a small proportion of fans of any work actually write fanfic for it (”deep fandom”). This is true of HYD but it’s also true of any fandom. You have failed to show, except with your hilarious circular argument above, that the number of HYD fics is disproportionately small in proportion to its actual fan base. Of course the number of fics is smaller than the number of fans, because it always is.

5. Whether you are a sealion who leeches off others’ time and energy, then claims moral victory when others won’t give it to you

“I literally said that if antis really cared about their cause that much they’d be ‘more open’ to conversation. Not ‘they’d be open to spending enormous amounts of time’ debating with me.”

This is disingenuous, coming from someone who makes it impossible to carry on a conversation that doesn’t take enormous amounts of time and energy. For instance, my OP was 175 words long. Your reply was more than twice as long at 448 words, and you derailed and deflected and changed the subject and strawmanned in every single post until the thread grew into a monstrosity that I’m afraid to even do a word count for, mostly because I’d hate myself for how much time I wasted with you. I mean, I’ve already spent four hours after finishing a major project replying to your ridiculous points.

“If you think productive activism is screaming at someone who wants to talk then blocking them off without letting them speak, I’m sorry, but you’re not being productive.”

What I’m doing isn’t productive, either, talking to someone who debates either as dishonestly or badly (I don’t even know which, I think it’s the former driving the latter) as you. This is not being open to conversation.

“I have been very open to discussion and have actually had my opinions completely changed and renewed…I’d consider myself at least relatively open-minded, yeah.”

Open to discussion... by constantly putting words in my mouth. (And not even keeping your story safe on which words you’re putting, lmao.)

Open to discussion... by making a discussion that I made clear was not about you, about you.

Open to discussion... by constantly changing the subject.

Open to discussion... by using terrible math and terrible logic.

Sure, Jan.

“What am I doing now? Ignoring all your comments and not reading them?“

The part about “educating yourself” completely flew over your head, right? To be clear, “educating yourself” does not mean “demand that others educate you.” The subject of the verb “educate” is different in these two clauses, just so you know.

“So I’m meant to listen to the ‘grievances of fans of color’ but also shouldn’t ask fans of color to spend time talking to me. Gotcha.”

Are you really this amazingly literal-minded or are you being purposefully obtuse? Googling “fandom racism” is a thing? Reading the many, many articles by fans of color about fandom trends and fandom experiences is also a thing?

Going on to people’s posts and shoving your unwanted, stale opinions on them is not listening. Opening with “actually, this is why you’re wrong (and also how dare you call me racist)” is not listening.

“If you don’t think there’s anything wrong with pretending to be an activist so you can jump on a bandwagon of sending people hateful messages, then I really don’t know what to say.“

All it takes is searching “harassment” on my blog to learn where I stand on that sort of thing, but nice try painting me as something I’m not. :)

“So if I really was a sealion, I would have demanded that you respond to me in what was meant to be my final response by calling you a coward or something“

Did you read the meme originator comic? Being a sea lion isn’t limited to calling people cowards, it’s about implying that those who don’t respond are unable to defend their points or are in some way lacking--which is exactly what you did by saying antis would be more open to a conversation with you if they “truly wanted to change the situation, or help.” I.e. by not answering your points, they’re not being open to conversation, hence not changing or helping anything. People who didn’t want to talk to you (not talking about harassment, just quitting out of frustration) didn’t bother because, again, it’s nothing we haven’t heard before and you've shown yourself to be a dishonest debater. Also because they know when to quit, unlike me.

“If I really was after validation or whatever, I’d be using tags. You know, so like-minded Kylux shippers could find my argument and agree with me.”

Goalpost moving, after you’ve had it explained to you very clearly what claiming moral victory is. Not that I expect any better from you at this point.

6. Miscellaneous

“Also, Star Wars isn’t groundbreaking storytelling? Are you kidding me?”

So again we run into the problem of using words in different senses. What I meant is that there’s nothing terribly new about the characters or storytelling, directly in response to your assertion that Finn and Poe don’t fit “the mold.” You seem to have taken it in the sense that it’s not popular or good, which... isn’t the meaning of groundbreaking? But I see now that you mean the mold as in the mold of AO3 shipping, so whatever.

“Hilariously enough I actually disagree with the Hux fans (which you probably assumed I’d side with), although I do think TFO’s attack on Hosnian Prime is pretty comparable to America bombing Hiroshima.”

I didn’t assume, I only showed what I sometimes do on this blog. Thanks for assuming what I assumed, though? And no, it’s not comparable. Like, I believe the bombing of Hiroshima was a war crime, but it was not the deliberate extermination of an entire population without warning or declaration of war. Monstrous as Hiroshima was, Hosnian Prime is incomparably more monstrous.

#hooooooly shit #wtf am i doing #this rabbit hole goes deep indeed #it's a hilarious ride though #fandom racism #troll in the dungeon #illiterallylondon

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