#i'm usually good at predicting twists and figuring out where a story is going but this one just keeps throwing me for a loop | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

getmemymicroscope · 2 years

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It seems that there is a whole new movie genre of 'mystery' movies that are entirely based on the concept that, at the end, the criminal gets to walk away and turn a sad/crying face into a 'haha, I fooled you all' smile as they leave. The Usual Suspects, of course, and it's Bollywood remake Chocolate; more recently, Aksar, Zid, Ittefaq - and that's just off the top of my head. It's almost to the point where it's predictable now - the whole story is just an exercise in "can we tell a story where our culprit can be one of the main characters and also fool the investigators to the point of getting away with it?" Which is probably pretty easy when you make your investigators, well, not super smart.

Not that that's necessarily the problem here - he may be plenty smart, but he gets drawn into this conveniently 'too easy' story and falls hook, line, and sinker for it, eating up the story that is fed to him. Of course, in the end, he did technically solve the case - they jump ahead, somehow, but out of the blue we get a confession from the killer. Like, it literally makes no sense: the forensic guy, or lab guy, or whomever his is supposed to be, just says "the killer knew about Tom's liver disease" (which they all did!); the cop flashes back to all 6 suspects; and then, just like that, we're getting a confession. No idea how he got to that point - somehow, they skipped the most important part of his deduction.

We got to see him making house calls, flirting with some random doctor, having debriefings beside a railroad, talking to a psychiatrist while taking way too much interest in the personal life of the victim's wife, and so on, but when it comes to his actual deductions, we just get a pointless cut scene of a interviews he's already performed, followed by him saying "don't you want to know the killer?" to said wife, and then ... BAM! confession from the bad guy.

So yes, he did it. But he missed the entire story behind it, of course - something you do figure out before they reveal it. The emotional manipulation that is going on is pretty damn strong, and a character mastering "how to act bipolar" in like 15 minutes is also pretty ridiculous (medically, this movie is a slight nightmare).

Worst of all, though, is the acting (it gets painful, repeatedly) and, even more than that, the editing. The jumps between scenes, the filming during many of the scenes: it's trying to be one of those movies where the city, the backdrop is like another character - but it fails miserably, because it just gives us random cut scenes of the city (see above, with detectives talking at a rail station for no reason, or when he's randomly talking to the doctor while he's standing on the street) that don't add much of anything to the story. Instead, it just looks like our detective or cop or whatever he is is just pointlessly, repeatedly wandering around the city.

It's also slow moving, as if trying to give some importance and worth to the relationships it is trying to throw at us, but, like, the relationships are mostly measly and don't really give us much to work with. Most of the people, if not all of them, have like clichéd "I'm a gray person" backstories and don't really deviate from them much. Which is fine, usually, but not so much when you want to make these stories (like the city) a part of the story and its own characters. At that point, they probably need to be slightly more developed and put to better use. So, instead, this just kinda hams.

Which is sorta unfortunate, because even with the twist(s) you can see coming, the story is actually pretty good. And, given that you (eventually learn that you) have an unreliable narrator, that also adds a bit of confusion. But the story quickly eliminates a couple of potential suspects by never really showing them again: in fact, it starts off with someone saying that there were like 20-25 people in the party, and our suspect pool from the start is only like 6, and 3-4 of those people are only spoken to once before essentially disappearing (aside from the flashbacks to the actual party, or to the interviews taken right at the start of the movie), and they make it pretty easy to guess what's up.

The logic this movie uses to let the character get away with it - "it was justified, because he was an ass of a person" - combined with the logic used to discard any sort of sadness about entrapping someone else and getting them to actually commit the crime - "it was justified, because he was an ass of a person" - is an interesting route to take.

Also, it's very weird because I know they mention it a couple times - but when the justification for trapping said person comes out, it is sort of a shock because the justification of "he's married but has wandering eyes" really just surprises you because, for the entirety of the movie, you never see said spouse/family. They mention it once or twice, briefly/quickly, and move on. The other families and couples/spouses, you see. The single people are mentioned as being single. And yet, in this case, just a brief "has a family" is thrown in amidst a whole bunch of other stuff.

The dialogues are meh, but the dialogue delivery is confusing. Also, them frequently switching to English mid-convo, for just a few sentences, and then back, is odd. Made worse by how basic/unreal some of the dialogues seemed. I guess I'm just not very impressed by the overall execution of this movie and the final product, though the story is pretty well done, if a bit too slow-moving and too focused on trying to be more classy/deep than it actually is.

That poor cop was trying to do his job but somehow, even while apparently figuring it out (unless the guy just came to confess, which is completely possible since we have no idea how they got to that point) he still got absolutely played like a fiddle.

#movies #movieblr #gmmm does movies

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mearcatsreturns · 3 years

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Okay, so you KNOW I'm now inevitably forced to ask for the actual fic prompt of Ivan trying to give his boss romantic advice, casual-like. (No need to confine yourself to 100 words. I mean what.)

I thought I could just write a thousand words of jokes, but then all these fools came and had the audacity to put feelings up in here. *Ivan voice* Disgusting.

Initially I was going to have this all as one chapter, but it was getting crazy long and I wanted to publish it tonight, so you get chapter 1 of 2, with the rest to follow in the next day or two.

Without further ado, Ivan, Interrupted:

Looking back, he should have seen the signs. The Sun Summoner is trouble and has been from day one.

He called that one, at least.

It’s not his fault. How is he supposed to recognize the stupidity of heterosexuals? He and Fedyor fell in love as young teens and haven’t parted in anger since. They look out for each other and try to spoil each other in all the small ways the other enjoys.

The General and Alina Starkov are a different story.

&&&

Ivan is there when the oprichniki drag Alina into General Kirigan’s tent in Kribirsk. She looks all for the world like the otkazat’sya he’s fought near the border of Shu Han. He can’t hold it against her, though; he knows better than anyone that appearances can deceive.

What he can hold against her is her denial. Even after twice showing that she can indeed summon sunlight, the little fool somehow believes she’s not Grisha. General Kirigan, a human amplifier and probably the most powerful Grisha on the planet, touches her and confirms it, and she still clings to her past. Ivan can’t understand why someone would want to deny something so intrinsic.

More worryingly, he sees his commander’s face as he tries to figure out the Starkov girl. It’s not a look he’s ever seen on Kirigan’s face, and it fills him with dread. The bemusement at her reply to his questioning about what she is turns to something...joyous and darkly yearning, in the General’s understated way.

People consider Ivan stoic and difficult to read, but he learned from the best, and his boss is the best.

Ivan is very discomfited to see Kirigan showing signs of experiencing emotions.

&&&

His unease only grows when Kirigan commands him and Fedyor to escort the Sun Summoner to Os Alta.

“Ivan, I need you and Fedyor to accompany Miss Starkov to the Little Palace. Make haste, and use all your formidable talents to keep harm from coming to her.”

“But the mission to West Ravka—”

“Will have to wait. Everyone in a twenty-mile radius saw her light show, and that may well include some of Ravka’s enemies. She—this—is more important than anybody knows. Keep her safe, and I’ll keep you and Fedyor off the front lines for six months.”

Ivan clears his throat.

“Yes?” Kirigan asks with a lift of his brow.

“Will you be staying, or do you need me to send word ahead that you’ll be arriving as well, sir?”

The General’s face smooths into its usual mask of power and calm. “No, I imagine I may well arrive before you all, as you’ll be taking my carriage.”

“As you say, General.”

Kirigan dismisses him, and he stomps off to find Fedyor so they can leave posthaste.

Ivan’s exasperation only grows when the Starkov tries, of all things, to stay and find some tracker friend of hers, tries to deny who she is. She even questions the General’s judgment, something not even Ivan dares to do.

(Privately, he agrees that this whole endeavor is a mistake. Alina Starkov is trouble, and he has an uncomfortable feeling that all their lives are about to change in ways no one can predict).

He hauls her into the carriage, plopping her on the seat across from the one he shares with Fedyor. Perhaps one of them ought to sit next to her to make sure she doesn’t get into any further foolishness, but Ivan’s crabby enough he wants to sit next to his husband.

Once they get out of Kribirsk and on the Vy, she settles down a bit, but she radiates nervous energy and it puts him on edge.

Fedyor, bless him, does his best to put the Sun Summoner at ease. But she’s resentful and afraid, and it irritates Ivan. He knows he should try to be understanding, but with all the fear and resentment he’s put up with from the otkazat’sya—his own family, even—he struggles to find the patience to explain why she should trust in the General and the Grisha. Nonetheless, he tries to soothe her the only way he knows how: by reminding her of the power she now holds.

Ivan’s thoughts drift to what might await them all in Os Alta, but his ruminations are interrupted by the shouts of the oprichniki warning them of a blockage in the road.

The dread he was feeling dissipates in the face of the familiar. He’s ready to fight against an ambush by Ravka’s enemies. He’s not ready to confront the existential questions Alina Starkov brings.

And fighting side-by-side with Fedyor never grows old. His blood sings, his heart pounds with the fierce excitement of a fight with his beloved at his side.

The fucking Fjerdans. Ivan hates the drüskelle for their hatred of the Grisha, and that fire burns hotter when Fedyor is hit in the leg. Fear twists in his belly as he examines Fedyor’s wound, though he claims it’s fine. Ivan, the most feared heartrender in Ravka, can’t concentrate enough to tell how many their enemies number, so he delegates it to Katya. He remembers the Summoner in the carriage, and issues a command for one of the other Grisha to protect her, but the screams fade into the background of his mind as he does his best to heal Fedyor.

Then he senses the shadows that accompany Kirigan—the reason the people mutter in fear, call him the Darkling—and the Fjerdans melt back into the wood. Shame mixes with his fear for Fedyor, and Ivan swears to himself when, after a few moments he hears the General speak to one of the Etherealki who’ve made it back to the carriage.

“Tend to the wounded. Then tell Ivan to make sure everyone gets back to Little Palace as quickly as possible and report to me. I’ll be waiting.”

“Yes, sir.”

Shit. He had one job, and she’s now riding off in the General’s arms.

Alina Starkov is definitely trouble.

&&&

They finally arrive back at the Little Palace late that night. Once everyone, the Grisha and the horses, are all seen to, Ivan makes his way to General Kirigan’s rooms. The oprichniki guarding the door nod at him and make way for him to knock. The General calls out in that even tone of his for Ivan to enter. He does so, anxiety and defiance mixing in his chest.

Nonetheless, Ivan is deferential. “Sir.”

Those dark eyes sweep over him from head to toe, and where there’s normally amusement or quiet affability, he’s unreadable as he is when meeting with the tsar and tsaritsa. “I see you’ve made it back. Are you well?”

“Yes, sir.” Ivan begins to sweat under the woollen collar of his kefta.

“And Fedyor?”

“Much better. He’s recovering.”

“Good,” the General says, pausing for a long, uncomfortable moment before continuing, “now, perhaps you could explain why you disregarded my clear, express orders to guard Alina.”

Alina, he notes. Not “Miss Starkov” or “the Sun Summoner.”

Ivan’s jaw tenses. “My apologies, moi soverennyi. Fedyor was shot while we were attempting to protect the carriage. I thought we’d be better able to protect her with both our powers.”

The Darkling—for that’s who he is at this moment—turns to face the windows. It’s black as pitch outside, but it wouldn’t surprise Ivan if Kirigan could see through the shadows of the night. “I don’t want excuses, Ivan. Had I not been nearby, Alina would have been lost, and Ravka would have lost its greatest hope in centuries.”

Ivan waits, knowing there’s little he can say.

Kirigan turns back. “See that it doesn’t happen again, or I will see to it that you and Fedyor are put on different assignments for the foreseeable future.”

Anger rises in his throat, but Ivan stomps it down. It will do him no favors to argue. The only thing he can do is go to bed, hold Fedyor close, and hope things settle soon. “Yes, General.”

&&&

The next day, a contingent of the Grisha accompany General Kirigan and Alina to the Big Palace. Ivan is used to walking by the General’s side, but Alina is there instead. With Fedyor still recovering in their rooms under the care of the healers, Ivan is alone, distant from the group. He feels a pang of melancholy so fierce it threatens to overwhelm him.

The Sun Summoner looks much better today than she had when he last saw her, and it seems Kirigan thinks so too. After he greets the King and Queen, he can hardly take his eyes off the girl, that same awed, wondering look in his eyes again.

Through the shadows his boss conjures, Ivan sees the way he looks at her, the way he leans over to whisper in his ear, the gesture nearly a caress. The Summoner lights up the darkness, and Ivan can’t take his eyes off the two of them. Alina Starkov smiles at Kirigan, and instead of the polite, unknowable smile he’d normally return to a courtier or even one of his rare mistresses, Kirigan looks back at her like she’s his every dream come true.

After the display is over, the King tries to bumble his way through negotiating over Alina’s training. And in front of the entire court and a good number of the Grisha,the General claims Alina. She will stay in the Little Palace with him, Kirigan states, his tone brooking no argument, not even from the sovereign ruler of Ravka.

Kirigan takes Alina’s hand and leads her away from the throne, and the two pause to speak in quiet tones. Ivan can’t hear them, but Alina’s eyes glow with admiration and the General is looking back at her with...warmth.

It’s not right, Ivan thinks, even as the General departs and the Grisha welcome Alina. This situation is getting more and more troublesome.

&&&

When Ivan arrives back in their room, he’s relieved to see Fedyor awake, though he’s lying in bed with a book. Fedyor sets the book on the bedside table and smiles at him, and Ivan feels some of the tension in his shoulders melt away.

“Why so grumpy, my love?”

“Not grumpy, Fedya. Worried.” He takes off his boots, middle of the day be damned, and climbs into the bed next to his husband.

Fedyor opens his arms, and Ivan goes to him, snuggling in and leaning his head against his shoulder. “About what, Vanya?”

He shrugs as best as he can while in his favorite person’s embrace. “The Sun Summoner is dangerous.”

“So are all of us Grisha, and even the otkazat’sya with training.”

“Not like that. I mean...I-I think General Kirigan has feelings.”

Fedyor had been running his hand through Ivan’s hair, but he pauses. “In general? Or for Alina?”

“For Alina. Fedyor, it was very strange. He looked warm and like he wanted to kiss her, in front of all those people. And then he held her hand.” The Darkling has had lovers, and Ivan is very aware of this, but he’s never seen him act this way around any of them.

With a huff that might be a laugh, Fedyor says, “He deserves a chance at love, too, especially after he’s been so good to us. He tried to help us when we were younger and more foolish.”

That’s true; Kirigan has been nothing but supportive of them when not everyone else has. He even tried to advise Ivan when he was sorting out his feelings for Fedya more than a decade ago. It hadn’t been good advice, but an attempt had been made, at least.

“He seems...lonely,” Fedyor continues.

Ivan nods. “There is no one like him, no one at his level, so who could stand beside him?”

“Maybe Alina.”

Fedyor seems to like the girl, but Ivan isn’t convinced. Is she strong enough to stand next to their leader who has done so much for not just the Grisha, but for Ivan and his beloved?

&&&

The next day, Ivan joins the rest of the Grisha for dinner. Kirigan is off doing something statecrafty and Ivan has the place of honor at his boss’ right hand, so he is ostensibly in charge of the gathering in the General’s absence.

Except he knows Alina was given the choice to sit in Kirigan’s seat in his absence, or to sit at his side were he here. Instead, the girl chose to sit with the other Etherealki. She’s there laughing with Marie and Nadia, indulging in this opulent meal provided for the Sun Summoner, because apparently their usual hearty peasant fare wasn’t good enough.

Resentment curdles in his stomach as he reads out the casualty list, staring down Alina the entire time. She looks stricken, but her concern seems to be more for the otkazat’sya than her fellow Grisha.

Something in him snaps. “Why are you here eating figs? Hmm? You should be training every waking moment to tear down the Fold.”

But when he sees her face, hurt and downcast, he feels a pang of regret for how he handled this.

Kirigan will not be pleased.

&&&

It turns out that Fedyor isn’t pleased either. He had accompanied the General to the dinner he’d gone to, as Fedyor is far more diplomatic than most of the senior Grisha. It’s because of that diplomacy and open friendliness that it takes him less than three hours to hear about Ivan’s outburst.

Ivan is sitting in his chair in front of the fire, doing his best to wind down after the day. Fedyor enters the room, closing the door behind him.

“How was dinner and politics?”

Fedyor scowls at him, and his heart sinks. “Don’t try to be cute and solicitous. I heard about what you did to that poor girl. Badly done, Vanya, badly done.”

“Can we go back to the part about me being cute, please?” Ivan rubs his hands over his face. He and Fedyor rarely disagree, so when they do…

“No. Alina Starkov just found out days ago she’s Grisha, and she’s been pulled away from the only life she’s known, from her friends and comrades. She’s fended off the volcra, almost been murdered by the drüskelle, and has had to get used to a new training regimen for skills she barely knew she had, to say nothing of the high stakes of her every move now.”

“She’s an orphan of Keramzin. How is this not better than anything she’s ever known?”

Fedyor stops pacing for a moment. “Ivan, that’s why we should be kind. She’s never known the love of a family beyond that of the First Army. And you know what they whisper about the Grisha. We were children when we got here, and our families sent us here out of love. It was easier for us to adjust. She’s grown up her whole life hearing the lies most of the otkazat’sya believe about us. She needs time and understanding.”

“But we don’t have that much time. Zlatan is agitating in West Ravka, Fjerda is worse than ever, and Shu Han is causing as many problems as ever. Why can’t she see that unless she is at her best and soon, Ravka is in danger? The Grisha are in danger?” Ivan is furious, but more than that, he’s exhausted.

At that, Fedyor softens. “Ah, my love. You carry a heavy burden. But she’ll have to bear an even heavier one soon,” he says, coming over and placing a warm hand on Ivan’s shoulder.

Ivan reaches up, placing his hand over Fedyor’s. “I just want her to be ready.”

“She will be.”

With a sigh, Ivan pulls Fedyor into his lap, nuzzling his neck. He’s ready to make up.

“Ivan?”

“Hmm?”

“You do realize that people also have to eat in order to be able to train, don’t you?”

&&&

He knows he should, but Ivan can’t bring himself to apologize to Alina. He does try, however, to be more understanding of the enormity of what she faces, the pressure on her to succeed. He tries to be kinder, less abrupt. But he can’t change who he is.

Fortunately, General Kirigan seems more amused than anything else at Ivan’s dinner outburst. It’s a week or so later, and Kirigan is ready to dismiss Ivan for his next couple of days off. “I would tell you to enjoy your time with Fedyor, but maybe you’ll be training instead, since that’s apparently what we all must be doing every waking moment.”

Ivan shoots him a panicked look, but calms down when he catches the amusement in the General’s eyes.

“Indeed. We will train ceaselessly and closely, moi soverennyi.” Somehow, he manages to keep a straight face.

Kirigan just snorts, and Ivan is extremely disgruntled when he mutters under his breath about needing some of that kind of training of his own.

#sab #sab ff #shadow and bone #heartrender husbands #darklina #darklinadaily #darklinaweek2021 #ivan #fedyor kaminsky #the darkling #aleksander morozova #general kirigan #alina starkov #ivan x fedyor #to be clear I don't think Alina or the Darkling or straight #but I think Ivan thinks they are #my fanfic #missing moments

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eloquent-vowel · 3 years

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Part 2 "I am" Bucky x OFC (#043)

Description: #043 is Dr. Leeb's greatest success. He took immense pride in raising her to be the perfect combatent and it was finally time for her skills to be put to use. His only worry is bringing outside variables into his perfect equation but when the heads of Hydra give you orders, you follow them. #043 is sent on her first mission and things do not go as planned.

Tags: Angst, Fluff, Slow burn, very much a slow burn. Bucky Barnes x OFC, Winter Soldier X OFC.

Warnings: Canon typical violence

Here is the second part of #043's story! I'm sorry there is no Bucky yet but I can promise that he will be coming in soon! (I did say that this would be a slow burn). Enjoy! <3

Part 1

Dr. Leeb sniffed again, those damn cleaning products always set him off, he had tried his damn hardest to get used to the smell of the sterile facilities but even after thirteen years his nose would not stop running, it was so embarrassing. Especially at a time like this, when he was in conference with the very head of Hydra. They had contacted his lab about using #043 in the field, he had agreed without hesitation- he knew his project was ready and he could hardly contain his excitement as the General laid out the mission briefing. It was finally time to show the whole of Hydra just what he could achieve, they would finally respect his mind.

"Dr. Leeb we have read your reports, #043, code name Eris, sounds very promising. Can you back up your claims?" The man known as The General spoke, his voice although tinny through the speakers of his office carried a deep undertone of threat. If Dr. Leeb was not sweating before he was now, he had rehearsed for this moment all he had to do was speak. He cleared his throat, sniffed and dapped at his forehead with his handkerchief.

"Well, General." He cursed his voice for coming out higher than normal. "As you know former experiments for the Eris project came up negative but #043 is different, whether this is due to her age or her biology I do not know, there is a possibilty-"

"Dr. Leeb, cut to the chase, what can she do?"

"Ah, right" He loosened his tie a bit, were the fans even working in here? "Yes, #043 is the perfect blend between technology and humanity. She arrived to us in a... less than ideal state this has meant that her left leg had to be amputated above the knee and her right leg was amputated below the knee, her legs were replaced with advanced prosthetics, based upon the Winter Soldier project. These were replaced to grow with her, it was a marvel really how we managed to make them grow perfectly wi-"

"Doctor!"

"Ah, sorry, yes, well. These legs allow her to run faster than the average human being, she has reached over speeds of 60mph - this of course is helped with the super soldier serum that she has adapted to perfectly. The serum, of course, has made her taller, stronger and altogether better. She is only 16 and has already grown to be 6 feet tall, it is likely that she can grow more, she can lift her body weight easily. She has also received the benefits of advanced healing, there has yet to be an injury that has not healed within the day. #043 is trained in Muay Thai, Judo, Comat Sambo to name a few, she has mastered firearms and the use of close combat weaponry- being most proficient in the use of brass knuckles. Her senses are enhanced by the serum have given her a great skill in prediction. She is brutal, cold and most importantly, loyal to Hydra."

Dr. Leeb nervously pushed up his glasses, it was impossible to read what The General was feeling. The man's face was eternally stuck in a position of serious anger- it was rather intimidating.

"This sounds promising Dr. Leeb. I read that she was trained intellectually as well?"

"Yes, yes #043 can speak Russian, English, German, Chinese, Japanese, French, Romanian and Spanish fluently and has been taught how to use the most advanced technologies. Her physical training has always taken priority, however, but I can assure you General that if you have a wall to break through she can do it."

There was a beat of silence as the General seemed to mull something over, there was a rustle of paper on the other side of the monitor. Dr. Leeb took in some deep breaths as he waited for the General to say something, dabbing at his forehead once more to try and get rid of the sweat dripping down his brow.

"Is it true, Dr. Leeb, that you believe she could take out the Winter Soldier?"

"Yes." Dr. Leeb answered without hesitation. "We are waiting for confirmation from the scientist on the Winter Soldier project but we are scheduling for them to meet. Remember she is has yet to reach full maturation, there is no doubt that she could best the Soldier when she is fully formed, we just wish to... encourage her to see him as a threat and enemy."

"Your faith is evident, Leeb, very well, here is the details of the mission- if she fails it will be on your head Doctor."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

#043 was training, as usual, she was in the middle of combat training facing of against a large group of hydra soldiers. While she knew she could defeat them one on one, having six of them attack at the same time was proving much more difficult. It was practically impossible to dodge and block every hit coming her way, much less think about landing a punch. She currently unarmed so at least two hits on vital areas would be necessary to knock one soldier unconscious. As she was dodging she began to form a plan, she would have to spread the soldiers out, she could tackle one down and run through them but they would see that coming a mile away, she could try throwing one away but that would take far too much time. There was only one option left, to jump.

#043 stopped dodging and planted her feet, she doubled her efforts to block incoming blows and began to tense her knees. The mechanical legs clanked and whirred as the cogs inside them tightened- the only warning any of the soldiers got was the hissing of hydraulics as #043 released the tension within her legs and shot straight over the heads of the group of soldiers. She twisted in the air and landed heavily in the ground with a loud cracking sound as the concrete broke below her. She was now facing the bewildered looking group of soldiers, she smirked, as they began to run to her. Just as they reached her she jumped once more, landing right at the back by the slowest member. They were down in two swift blows to their kidney's and temple. This unfair game of cat and mouse continued until it was only two soldiers remaining.

The following fight was easy to her. One of the soldiers was taken out by a high kick to the head from her left leg and a solid stomp to the sternum cracking numerous ribs and collapsing his chest. The other was simply ended by a push kick to the chest to put them off balance and #043 swiftly grabbed one of their legs and threw them into the far wall where they impacted with a harsh thud, leaving a rather large dent in the plaster. #043 drew in a deep breath and relaxed, letting her hands fall to her sides just as the voice of Dr. Leeb entered the sandpit.

"Well done, #043! You continue to improve day by day." She felt her eye twitch as he sniffed once more. "I have some good news for you, you are to go outside."

"Outside?" Her voice was gravelly from lack of use.

"Yes, you are about to go on your first mission, it is a rather simple one mind you- I think the General is just trying to test me with this- I have no doubt that you will succeed with flying colours, you are my perfect equation."

"What will I have to do?"

"You are to infiltrate the home of a Mr. Hugo Malet, a prominent figure in the arms trade. Hydra has a target on his head and you, my dear, have the honour of being the gun who aims for it." Dr. Leeb began walking away, gesturing for #043 to follow. She eyed her trainer waiting for permission. The stern woman just gave a nod and #043 was off walking just behind Dr. Leeb, peering over his shoulder to the files he held in his hand. He continued to brief her all the way to his office.

"Mr. Malet here has a holiday chalet in the French Alps, a rather modest six bedroom, five bathroom ordeal, wholly unnecessary for his family of four but if you have the money. Such a shame he got that money by selling weapons to the wrong people. Here." Dr. Leeb sat in his desk chair before sliding the file over to #043. "Look at him, memorise his face, his family is meant to join him in the chalet in a week but if there are any others witness you must eliminate them as well- do you understand?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Repeat it to me."

"Hugo Malet, Chalet, French alps, no witnesses, no traces left behind."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the helicopter over to the Alps #043 did not know who was more nervous, her or Dr. Leeb who had insisted on monitoring the mission in person. The plan was simple, she would parachute down to the drop zone two miles away from the chalet and run to the chalet where, under the cover of night, #043 would erase the traitors.

"T-10 mins until deployment."

The announcement over the intercom spurred her into action, she began triple checking her harness and parachute, placed the night vision goggles over her eyes and ensured that the mask covering the lower half of her face was secure. Once she was sure she was ready she took her position. The side door opened to reveal the pitch black, snowy exterior of the alps, the temperature was immediately freezing . Dr. Leeb piped up behind her.

"Do not disappoint me #043, once this goes successfully the Eris project will be a reality. You know what will happen if you fail."

#043 shivered at the threat, memories enclosed walls, electric chairs and sore flesh flickering in her mind and with a single nod she jumped.

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The run to the chalet had been uneventful and soon the chalet was in view. There was a warm glow coming from within and through the window #043 could see the figure of her target walking around the lower floors.

"Status report" The voice of Dr. Leeb crackled through her earpiece.

"Target sighted, moving to engage."

Armed only with a silenced pistol and her brass knuckles she moved stealthily through the pine trees until she found the backdoor. Much to her joy it was unlocked and she entered silently. There was the faint sound of some sort of soft music playing in the front room, following the noise she crept towards the slightly ajar door down the corridor.

She entered the room, pistol first, to see Hugo Malet sipping wine on the couch, sitting in front of the fireplace a woman - presumably his wife- under his arm. Without hesitation #043 shot both figures through the back of the head, killing them instantly. She approached the bodies, turning them both over to confirm their identities.

"Target is dead, his wife also."

"Great job, #043, no witnesses. Return to Location Alpha"

#043 stared at the two bodies for too long. They were slumped, still cuddled against one another, their eyes dull and lifeless. If it wasn't for the bullet hole through their foreheads'. Their lives had so easily been ended, they had not even seen it coming. She had taken lives before, but they had always been fighting her- it was her or them. This was new, the easy kills. The easy killing felt wrong, she felt wrong, her hands began to shake. Her mask began to feel too tight, the air in the room was too dense for her to breathe- desperately she made her way to the window- opening it to let the fresh air hit her face.

"Mummy? Daddy? Can I have some hot chocolate?"

#043 froze, the voice was high pitched, a child's voice, her head turned in horror to watch the door to the front room open and the Malet's youngest son enter the room. His face immediately creased into confusion, too young to understand why his parents were slumped, motionless on the couch. He was so small. #043 knew about the concept of children, she was certain she herself must have been one at some point, but she had never realised how small they are. This one must have only reached her knees, his small arms were reaching for his parent's until he caught #043 in his sight. She slowly raised her pistol.

"Who are you?" The small child asked

"I am..." she stuttered, who was she? A number? How old was she? Was she once this child, this small, this helpless, this clueless, this... innocent? The boy's eyes shone with tears and fear.

"Are you a friend of Daddy's?"

Such innocence, so small, every fibre of #043's being was screaming at her- no witnesses- but her hand was shaking, her hands never shook, there was some p[art of her that refused to harm this child. The longer she looked into his eyes the farther down she pointed her pistol.

"I am..."

But if she left this child alive she would be put in that chair again, she would be hit and placed in that tiny room, she would be a failure and Dr. Leeb would be disappointed in her. She slowly began to walk towards the small child who simply looked up at her, wide eyed and teary.

"Who..." The child's voice faded away as #043 was looked directly down at him.

"I am... Eris."

With that Eris hit the child over the head with the butt of her pistol , enough to knock him unconscious but not enough to kill him, then fired a shot into the ground by his head, she hoped that an ambulance would arrive soon. She took a deep breath before climbing out the window, leaving the crime scene behind.

"Returning to Location Alpha, No witnesses remain."

Part 3

#marvel #hydra #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x original female character #bucky x oc #bucky fic #angst #avengers #eventual fluff #winter soldier #winter soldier x oc #bucky barnes one shot #sebastian stan #hydra are assholes #eloquent-vowel #043 #slow burn

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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 4 years

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The Best Things ~ J.V. (Part 6)

A/n: Things boutta get bad so like... I'm sorry. Practically nothing but angst this part won't lie. Side note: I know I don't actually have a lot of Jerome x reader content yet, but I wanted to show the reader's descent into madness before they're officially a thing. I promise you it's coming, and very soon :)

Word Count: 4300+

Playlist

MASTERLIST

Y/n shot to his feet, only for the guards behind him to draw their guns. Alfred held up a hand. "Is he alive?" Y/n demanded. He might have lost his mind just a tad, but Bruce was still one of the very few things Y/n Wayne cared about and no one was about to put that boy in danger.

"Yes," Alfred soothed. "I said he WAS kidnapped. We have him back now." Y/n calmed and Alfred seemed to almost smile, as if seeing the amount Y/n cared was very reassuring. That tracked. "He's been brainwashed or something though, and I've gotten special permission from Commissioner Bullock himself to let you out to help me bring him back. If we play this right, we might even get you released permanently. We can figure this whole thing out. You can come back to us. We can be a family again." Y/n thought about that. Seeing Bruce again. His brother meant everything to him. He cared about Alfred too, honestly. The man had been a good father figure to both of them, and a good friend even when their father was alive. Y/n would have a real home, without killing or chaos. He'd be working for the good guys.

Right?

He thought about that word. Good guys. Cops were supposed to be good guys, weren't they? But he'd gotten locked up in Arkham just for being associated with Jerome, and then gotten the shit kicked out of him when he'd simply been himself. He hadn't killed anyone, or hurt anyone. He'd shown affection to another man and had nearly gotten beat to death for it. He'd leave Arkham, the only place he'd ever really been accepted for being gay. Maybe not by that one guard, but everyone else seemed to not care since no one cared about him at all, except maybe Jerome. Oh god Jerome. Y/n would have to leave him. And Harleen as well. The new friend who really got him and had his back the best she could in a place where her words practically had as much affect as Y/n's did. He had a boyfriend and a potential best friend and room to be free... except that he wasn't free.

Why was this so hard?

"Y/n," Alfred interrupted, eyes wide and pleading. "Bruce needs you."

The last time Alfred had said that, Bruce had just witnessed their parents' murders. Y/n pushed down the boy he used to be that was fighting to resurface, trying to find at least a. Middle between then and now. They were so different... there was suddenly a battle again himself, and he was losing.

Finally, he just shut it all down. Everything else could wait for another time. "When can we leave?" Alfred smiled at his words, but Y/n suddenly had a terrible feeling in his gut. Why did he get the sense that everything was about to get really, really bad again?

"Penguins alive?" Y/n relaxed in relief.

Alfred frowned. "Yeah. Um-" He swallowed. "You've kind of really been involved with all the worst people recently, eh?"

Y/n actually scoffed at that, his lips curling in amusement. "I've met far worse people than Oswald, Alfred." He looked the butler in the face. "You might not like to hear this, but that redhead everyone in town hates so much? He wasn't the one who did this to me." Y/n motioned to his own face. "But the officer who did, did it for no other reason than because I'm gay." He let that settle for a second. Alfred seemed shaken a bit. It seemed to finally be dawning on him just what Y/n had been going through since his parents had died. "Now, enough about me." They'd finally pulled up to the GCPD building. "Let's get inside. Like you said: Bruce needs us."

Y/n had been required to be handcuffed, though he hadn't been put in a straight jacket and had been allowed to change into normal clothes as not to upset Bruce upon seeing him. He was still beat up pretty badly though, and had developed a limp as the adrenaline wore off and as his beating really sunk in. Alfred had to keep him handcuffed as they walked in, and the whole place went quite. It was becoming a habit that Y/n could walk into any room and immediately bring silence with him as he did so. All of Gotham had gotten to the point that they couldn't exactly make an opinion on Y/n Wayne. How did someone like him get born into a family like he had been, and turn out like this?

Gay and insane.

It had been in the newspaper. Someone, somewhere had gotten hold of the news that Y/n Wayne was gay and it had been released everywhere. Y/n had read the article a while ago. It's what had prompted Jerome to finally be more affectionate around other inmates, instead of just at night when they were in their cell together. People might give Y/n shit for being into dudes, but no one was going to mess with Jerome. He'd put his neck out for Y/n... It was becoming clear that few others would do the same. Maybe it was the insanity.

Y/n was brought to a room that was a different color than the walls at Arkham. The color outside had been overwhelming after seeing muted versions from a distance through windows that now, the dull color was kind of refreshing. Inside the room was Bruce, but he looked different. Y/n couldn't imagine the last time his younger brother had worn a turtle neck. His father used to try to get the boys to wear them all the time, but, especially in their youth, the boys had hated them and eventually their father had given up. Bruce hadn't worn one since they were both seven, when he used to just do whatever their dad told him to. And since when did he wear anything other than dark blue or black? Y/n found all his usual jokes about Bruce being a casual emo slip from his mind. He didn't know how to approach this new boy. He didn't know him.

To be fair, Bruce didn't really know him either.

"Hello, brother," Y/n greeted, unsure of how to go about this after all that stood between them.

Bruce narrowed his eyes. "Why are you here?"

Y/n sat down, scooting over as Alfred joined him with a second chair. "Just checking in," Y/n responded slowly. "Alfred told me about what happened. Getting kidnapped. Been there, it's not too fun."

Bruce rolled his eyes."You got kidnapped by a brainless psychopath. I got taken by someone who was trying to help me."

Y/n scoffed. "Help you? Bruce look at you. You're not yourself."

"I'm better," Bruce shot back. Y/n went quiet at that, looking at Alfred with raised eyebrows.

Alfred ignored the look. "Now we can talk all day, but what really matters is that you tell me what you meant when you said someone else was coming to Gotham. I thought that old fellow was the leader of the Council of the Owls, who else would be coming?"

An expression rested on Bruce's face. Far too complacent and calm. The Bruce Y/n was familiar with had the tendency to brood- this Bruce seemed to have no tendencies at all. No cares or anything. It was disturbing to say the least. "I want you both to leave."

"Well that ain't gonna happen, is it mate?" Alfred immediately matched. The butler crossed his arms. "You can't get rid of either of us that easy. Your brother here found time around being locked up to be here for you. Not much is getting us out of here."

"Especially with the city in chaos," Y/n cut in. "Not even your pals in the GCPD will be here to drag us away. Might as well end it now."

When Bruce didn't respond, Alfred leaned forward. "You have to remember who you are."

That seemed to set Bruce off. "I know who I am." Y/n scoffed. "I have a destiny," the younger boy continued, his volume raising as Y/n's mocking noise irritated him.

"Now you listen to me." Alfred had gotten very quiet. "That man that wanted you to detonate that bomb, whatever he promised you- freedom from pain, power - none of it, none of it was real. I want you to remember what is real."

"I know what's real!" Bruce yelled over the end of Alfred's sentence. Y/n tried not to smile. He really did. Bruce glowered as his older brother grinned at him. Mocked him. "You come in here and mock me? You're the crazy one. Don't you dare laugh at me like I'm the one who's lost my mind! I got vengeance for our parents' murder. That's real, and better than running around like an idiot with a lunatic murder!"

"You know NOTHING about lunacy," Y/n interrupted. "I've seen crazy. I've seen grown men beat on teenage boys and call it power. I've seen cops chase bad guys to predictable set ups and act like it wasn't the most obvious thing in the world. I've seen so called heroes save to be said innocent people, and then those evil little shits turn on those same heroes the first chance they get. I've seen love get ignored and then twisted. I've seen people laugh at pain and enjoy the suffering of others and then call themselves sane because that person who was dying was a bad guy, so who cares, right? I've seen people define good and bad like it's a dictionary entry and then immediately break the rules they lay down and still try to pass off as the victim of the story. THAT was real Bruce." Alfred put a hand on Y/n's shoulder, and it was only then when he realized he was crying. "I've seen stories about how evil and corrupt men are and how much women are victims, and then looked at Gotham and seen women in charge while I, a child, was raped by a woman again and again who was only using me for power." He cleared his throat. "Not to say that other people don't suffer, I just mean that everything is a grey area. What's real is bullshit and what's fake is seemingly the most honest option of those presented. Not everything is as clear as it pretends to be, Bruce. I'm supposed to be the crazy one. I was supposed to be the one who failed. I was supposed to be the screw up, but we're both in handcuffs and you were the one who was trying to ruin the lives of thousands of people just minding their own business. What was my crime, huh? Trying to be happy? Trying to be true to myself?" Y/n scoffed. "If only mom and dad could see you now."

"YOU SHUT UP!" Bruce screeched.

"Both of you calm down," Alfred snapped. "I was there when your parents had both of you. I took care of your mum and was there as you grew up. You used to be inseparable. No matter what anyone else did or said or thought, the Wayne brothers always had each others' backs. Good and bad is clear. Everyone is capable of it. Everyone does it. No one is innocent of evil, even in small amounts. Both of you have been idiots." He took a breath. "But you're also both my idiots." He looked between the two boys. "You're both my boys, even if I haven't been there for both of you." He looked at Y/n as he said that. "You want to talk about what's real? What's good?" He looked at bruce. "What's real is when you were sick as a kid, and your mum used to sit up with you every night and read to you when you fell asleep. That's real. Or when you were seven and you took that rowboat out and you got lost in that storm. Me and your dad were out, shouting and screaming, losing our minds, and when your dad found you, how he cried. That's real." He looked at Y/n. "When you were twelve and you came to your parents in tears because you couldn't understand why all the girls your age were talking about kissing you and you couldn't stop thinking about kissing the other boys. Your mum calmed you down and your dad told me that no matter what, they'd love you and you thought I didn't know but I did- all this time, I knew." Y/n felt his chest tighten. He felt terrible. "That was good, Y/n." Alfred gripping Y/n's shoulder. "When everyone came to your dad talking bad about you and they thought he'd laugh along, but he put an end to it immediately because you were still his son and he loved you. He was proud of you. When the news people came after you for secrets and they were nosey and pushy. When they crowded and stalked you because they'd caught wind that you had a dark secret and everyone wanted to know what the oldest Wayne son failure was hiding, and your dad nearly lost his mind on all of them, if your mum hadn't stepped in and stopped it cordially. THAT. Was. Good." Alfred returned to looking at Bruce, keeping his hand on Y/n's shoulder. "Your parents died in that alley four years ago, and maybe that man took away the pain of that night." This time he looked between the two boys. "Life has been hard since then, but there is no life, no love, without pain." He squeezed Y/n's shoulder and when the boy nodded, he returned his attention to Bruce. Bruce was the main focus right now, but Y/n had gotten the message. "He could not take away the love that your mum and dad gave you, that you still have in you- that you still have-" his voice broke as he reached over, pressing his hand against Bruce's chest, right over where his heart would be. "Right here." His hand finally dropped after a pause as he continued, "The same love I have for you. For both of you." His face flecked with. "I love you, Maser Bruce. Master Y/n. I would do anything for you. I would die for you. You must-" he cut off, focusing on Bruce. Y/n kept thinking Alfred was done focusing on him, but then Alfred would look at him again, and he hadn't felt so cared for or looked after since his parents had died. It all felt silly now... "You have to find that love again."

Every word hit home. Alfred was speaking to Bruce, but it was becoming more and more obvious that he was talking to Y/n too. Y/n reached over, his hand resting over Bruce's. "We both have to," he whispered softly. "You don't have to do it alone. I know it's been hard and chaotic, but I'm still your brother, Bruce. You're still my brother. And no matter what, you always have me."

Alfred leaned forward. "Come back to us, Master Bruce." There was a commotion outside and Alfred sighed before telling Y/n, "I'll be right back," and then leaving.

Bruce looked to his brother. "Did you mean what you said? I can depend on you?" Y/n nodded immediately. "Then get me out of here." Y/n went to argue but Bruce interrupted. "You can come with me and make sure I'm safe. But I HAVE to do this. I need to finish it. I need to see it through. I need to know if this really is my destiny. I need to understand-" he cut off, choked with emotion. But Y/n knew what he meant. The same thing that had driven him to follow Jerome Valeska of all people. That had gotten him to follow Penguin and ditch his family to begin with. There are just some things you have to do. So Y/n looked around, found a pen, and Bruce pick the locks on both of their cuffs before they booked it, side by side and headed for... something. Bruce hadn't cued Y/n into the plan this far.

In all honesty, it was just nice being by Bruce's side again.

They made their way through the city streets of Gotham at night until they got to a red door with the word "Yuyan" on the front. Bruce went in. Y/n followed. Inside was the statue of what looked like some kind of demon. There was a lot going on. Bruce didn't hesitate- he stepped up and began analyzing it. Y/n was still taking it in when he pulled something and the wall opened up, revealing a hidden passage. The brothers went inside, Bruce having to take Y/n's hand to get the older boy to follow him now.

The two walked down a staircase and through a tunnel. It seemed eery. Weirdly light and far too silent and empty. When people appeared, Y/n regretted his lament about there not being anyone around- they immediately attacked him. "No." Bruce said firmly. They stopped. Y/n looked at his brother with shock. Bruce's expression remained calm. Y/n's would be attackers simply pointed Bruce onward, making way for him to follow their direction.

Y/n hadn't been this scared in a long time. Surely he wasn't in danger. This was Bruce he was talking about. Golden Boy Bruce Wayne who used to cry when they were really little and Y/n would step on a bug. Who shut down after their parents died because he loved them so much that seeing their murder changed him... except that his heart of gold kept him from corrupting like Y/n had. He was driven by justice and refused to let up until evil was destroyed. Bruce Wayne was a hero.

And yet, when Y/n looked at the back of Bruce's head now, he didn't see his younger brother. He saw a man in a child's body. He saw a straight back that was well trained and perfectly postured. He saw clothes Bruce would never wear and a silence Bruce would prefer not to bear, especially with Y/n around to talk his ear off. He saw Bruce leading them down a tunnel of doom, being completely docile after someone tried to kill him. After he almost poisoned maybe hundreds of people with just the press of a button. After, of all people, he had chosen some random old dude weirdo over Alfred and almost killed one of two family members he still had left.

Very suddenly, Y/n realized that he hadn't realized how bad Bruce was. How dumb it was to follow after him right now. And he was more scared than he'd ever been. More scared than even when he looked in the face of a cold blooded, sadistic murderer who had completely lost his mind and only saw an endless world of things to fascinate him. More scared when the doors would close and all he saw was red lips curled in a devious smile as the one person he trusted the most took advantage of him. More scared than when that stupid guard had locked him in that room and he had really thought he was going to get beaten to death for being gay.

Bruce pushed two double doors open with each hand. They creaked as they opened slowly, revealing a room with a green pool in the middle. Bruce leaned over and Y/n stepped forward, reaching out to stop him. Then he felt a pain at the back of his head and everything went black.

Y/n woke up alone.

It was dark, but it only took him a few seconds to remember everything and realize where he was. He looked around- the pool was still there. Otherwise, the room was empty. Y/n groaned as he sat up, looking around again for signs of those people that had attacked him earlier. When he still saw no one, he stood and began walking back the way he'd come. It was even scarier now that he was alone. "Bruce?" He whispered into the empty hallway. He jumped at every noise, resulting in him eventually misstepping and tripping. He would have face planted if his scrambling abilities hadn't improved recently due to all the running away from cops and other crazies alike in his days by Oswald's side. Thankfully he didn't fall because, as he was noticing while trying to get his feet under him, there was blood on the floor.

Oh my god there was blood on the floor.

He sucked in a breath, beginning to look around again. "BRUCE?" His heart picked up and he felt the back of his eyes burning with tears. "Bru-" his shoulder hit a wall and he screamed. Shaking his head to calm himself, he pressed his lips together and retraced his path that he'd taken with Bruce to get in here. Eventually it lead him outside. Weirdly enough, the wall was open again. Which meant that he didn't have to figure out how this side of the trick worked... but it also meant he wasn't alone.

The night air outside was cool, the sun rising in the distance. He looked down at himself- he was filthy. He took a second to think. To remember. The last thing that had been clear to him was that he was absolutely terrified of Bruce.

That's right. Bruce wasn't... right anymore. Well, that meant he couldn't go home. He also couldn't just walk back into Arkham. They might think he'd done something if he came back, dirty and hysterical, without Alfred. So he went to the GCPD department instead, because where the else was he going to go?

He was inside for maybe a second before he saw a familiar face. His eyes went wide and his heart nearly stopped- in his vulnerable state, of course it would be the guard that almost beat him to death that would be there to greet him. The man smirked, tilting his head. "There you are. We were wondering when you'd find your way back." He approached the teenage boy, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Someone else approached. Y/n almost melted in relief to see Harvey Bullock. "What's going on here?" His eyes laded on Y/n. "What... I thought you were in Arkham."

"He was," the officer responded. Y/n had already forgotten his name from when Harleen had said it before. "Alfred Pennyworth came and got him out for the day. Needed him for some Wayne business. I'll be taking him back now."

Harvey looked confused by that. "Why? We were already debating letting him go. Now he's out, there's no reason to immediately put him back in." The guard seemed horrified by that idea. Harvey put his hands on his waist. "He didn't do anything wrong."

"Do you know what this boy is?" Y/n's heart sunk. "He's a homosexual."

Harvey's eyebrows rose. At first Y/n thought it was in surprise, but then he said, "So what?"

The guard looked stunned. "He needs help, Bullock. He was canoodling with Jerome Valeska in Arkham. In public. Like there's nothing wrong with that."

Now Harvey was surprised. Y/n swallowed his emotions and met the older cop's gaze evenly, sticking his chin up. Harvey sighed. Y/n didn't even have to say anything- the old man just seemed to... immediately understand. "He turned to someone who accepted him in a world of people who hate him." It was Y/n's turn to be surprised. "That's not punishable."

The guard scoffed. "Son, have you ever killed anyone before?" Y/n looked away. He thought about the first time he'd ever killed someone, and then thought about all the many times after that he'd done it himself or helped. Another experience he'd picked up while hanging with Oswald. "The thing won't even deny it. And he's proud to be with that redheaded psycho. There's something wrong with him, Commissioner. He needs to be detained and get some help."

Harvey and Y/n both knew that was not the reason the guard wanted Y/n back in Arkham. The two men looked at each other, both put down at the fact that they couldn't stop anything happening. Maybe Y/n should have lied. Maybe he should be fighting. Unfortunately, he'd just lost his little brother and he had no idea what kind of shape Alfred was in. Currently, he had to assume that Alfred was either dead or would be soon, if Bruce could help it.

The guard tugged Y/n's arm and they were headed back outside toward his car. "Thought you were gonna get away from me that easily, did you?" The guard growled under his breath, leaning close to Y/n so the Wayne boy would be the only one to hear. "I finally have a reason to get at you, you little shit. Things are only gonna get worse for you from here. Now I can say you've killed people. No one will stop me from knocking you now."

Y/n looked at the city one more time before he was shoved into the car. The guard pulled out a pair of cuffs and put him in them. He looked at the city the whole time. The entire ride, he took in every inch of it. Every dirty corner. Every dirty human. Every inch of the buildings- no matter how close, far, tall or small they were. If he could see it, he took it in as much as he could. Above everything else, he took in the sunrise.

Maybe it was the fact that Y/n might never see it again outside of Arkham, but it wasn't overwhelming this time.

It was beautiful.

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beck-a-leck · 2 years

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Tagged by @thychesters

rules: tell us the titles of all the WIPs you are currently working on right now and a little about them. then tag five other writers.

I'm calling this the Pimp My WIPS Game! fite me

Anyways I have 2 categories: The WIPS currently posted on AO3 and I am actively writing, no matter how slowly. and the WIPS that are currently stuck in Unposted Purgatory, the might one day get finished and posted, they might languish forever on my hard drive. Even I don't know!

Current WIPS

Our Dear Empress: A Rune Factory 4 fic in which, after in-game events, the protagonist, Frey, unwittingly becomes Empress of the enemy Sech Empire. It's a Sad Fic. There's grief and mourning and having to say goodbye to friends and loved ones and leave the safety of home for the dangerous unknown. I might try and pretend like I know anything about how politics work. In the future, there might be an arranged marriage for the Drama. We'll see.

Take My Arm That I Might Reach You: an offshooting branch of my big, main canon-compliant Star Wars Prequels fic (Wells of Silence) featuring gender bent Anakin and Padme. In this fic, Padme lives and takes the twins, Obi-Wan doesn't leave Vader to die on Mustafar and takes her into exile on Tatooine (to rehabilitate her and/or keep her imprisoned for the remainder of their lives), and Vader eventually gets a hard-earned redemption arc to reunite with her babies. Lots of angst. I predict I will focus on the story a lot once the Kenobi show drops in a couple months

Stranded: A Story of Seasons: Trio of Towns fic in which I explore the shared Childhood Trauma TM the Lulukoko kids experienced together. Equal parts adventure and world building and backstory exploration and an exercise for me to see how well I can write characters who are only like 13 years old.

Earth and Rebirth: Another SoS:3oT fic putting a twist on the standard protagonist's story for the game. Typically in these games your character is a young 20-something, single and ready to mingle, but for this story I widowed by MC and left her pregnant and now she has to figure out what she wants to do as an Adult TM, where she wants to live, how to move on after a devastating loss, and on top of all that how to also be a mom before she's ready for it. As per usual with my stories, it's full of delicious angst.

Remember Us: This RF4 fic was my 2020 Covid Lockdown hyperfixation fic, as RF4Special was my Covid lockdown hyperfixation game. (my writing for this one got a little sidetracked when Empress came along, but It still lives in my brain. I'll write more soon, I promise!) Anyways, in this one Frey agrees to have a magical baby, suffers some Terribly Inconvenient head trauma and Amnesia Strikes Back, and this inevitably stirs up all sorts of relationship drama between her and Arthur, and it is, in the long run, a story about them falling out of love, and then realizing that they never really didn't love each other and falling back in love.

Carve Yourself From Sandstone: My Sig-centric Jak and Daxter fic! (that i'm also writing at a glacially slow speed) In this one we take a look at Sig's back story and mix in a little bit of Damas' back story for good measure, plus some world and lore building for the whole J&D world. It will eventually lead up to the point where baby Jak gets taken and Sig adopts the Demolition Duo in Haven City, but at the rate I'm writing that will happen in like 20 years 😬

WIP Purgatory Fics

If You Give A Droid A Knife: Look. I started and almost finished this story Last May and I just haven't gone back to put the finishing touches on it! I saw a piece of art (and I can't remember where now I'd need to go digging through my sw tag) where someone drew BD-1 with a knife and I immediately got the idea "What if the droids found out Palpatine was evil?" because Naturally, they'd collect All the Knives and shank the Sith Lord and thus the galaxy was saved and everyone lives happily ever after!

Galaxy's Best Dad AU: Another Star Wars fic. I had the idea back in October, I think, of what if Plo Koon took Anakin on as his padawan after Qui-Gon's death? Because Obi-Wan was not emotionally prepared to take care of a child, and Plo is the Galaxy's Best Dad. Obi-Wan could get to be the Cool Cousin or something to Anakin, so they're still together a lot. And like, most things still happen as they do in canon, but at the end when Anakin's just about to fall he takes a moment to think about how utterly disappointed Plo would be in him if he fell to the dark side, and Anakin couldn't live with himself if he disappointed the Galaxy's Best Dad! And thus the galaxy is saved and everyone lives happily ever after! (and order 66 never happens) I want to actually write this, but I know it's going to turn into another Long WIP and I have Enough of those right now!

Boba And Omega Sibling Fic and the Grown Omega Fic: These two are grouped together because the former directly caused the later. So back when Book of Boba Fett was coming out I said "lmao. i absolutely don't want to see this happen in the show, but what if Omega came to help out Boba?" and I started writing a little fic about the two of them realizing they're sort-of siblings and over the years developing a begrudging but ultimately loving sibling relationship. And as siblings do, they give each other shit, constantly, and it is glorious to see them bickering sometimes. Anyways, spawned off that I started messing around with the shenanigans a grown up Omega might get into with the Bad Batch and those disjointed scenes and bits got tossed together into one document. I might finish up the Sibling fic, probably won't finish up the Grown fic, but who knows.

Clean Slate: A Friends of Mineral Town fic. I got an idea while I was writing my Mineral Town Big Bang fic and starting up a new file as Pete to get a feel for the town and characters and stuff, and it's really just a Super Basic 'novelization of the game plot' sort of story, but with extra Drama and Angst, because I cannot be helped. Ultimately I don't think this one's going to get finished, but I guess we'll see.

Beatrice: This one's a Rune Factory 5 fic, so mild spoilers if you care. Anyways Beatrice shows up in town under all sorts of hush-hush circumstances with nobody but a Knight to accompany her. And I started thinking about what kind of trouble a princess could possibly get into that would require her to be sent so far away from home alone. But also it includes some delicious pining on Reinhard's behalf because he's just a knight and she's a princess and it could never be, but he definitely volunteered to come to Rigbarth with Beatrice because he loves her is very dedicated to his profession. Not sure if I'll finish this one either, I want to see what information I can learn in game before I really try and join together the random scenes I wrote down.

oh gosh this got so long and now I have to tag people... uhh... idk. I'm so tired and it's late.

If you want to paly along, feel free to say I tagged you!

(or maybe I'll come back tomorrow morning and tag folks)

#tag games #becky writes things #there are SO MANY WIPS #and I didn't even list the ones that have been chilling in my folders for more than 6 months lmao #i don't think y'all realize how many times I get an idea. I write frantically for a day or two. and then I leave it and never come back

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punkscowardschampions · 5 years

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Jimmy & Janis

Jimmy: How's it going, mate? Jimmy: Lost the will yet or nah Janis: Honestly Janis: Ain't even got that much shit but everyone's being dead dramatic about it Janis: Obviously I don't want my finger paintings, Ma, fucking hell Janis: how 'bout you? Jimmy: Cute 💕 Jimmy: Reckon I've got less but spending half my time separating my shit from Cass and Bob's Jimmy: How the fuck have they taken over my room? Jimmy: Theirs are bigger like Janis: Such a soft touch, lad Janis: Lucky we're sharing or best believe I'd be bagsying the shit out of the bigger room too 😉 Jimmy: 🎻 Jimmy: You can lay claim to all the drawers, mate Jimmy: Leave me somewhere to hang my hat though Janis: You forgotten which twin you moving in with? Janis: I'll tell Grace to grab her coat, like Janis: Get in, babe Jimmy: Funny Jimmy: I've seen how many pairs of kicks you have, I've made that mental note Jimmy: I've got nowt that needs to be worried about, proper floordrobe in my box room Janis: Awwh, when bae notices things Janis: such a #keeper Janis: Better be sorting that, I'll ask for hangers for a housewarming gift...now that's peak #adulting Jimmy: #goals every day of my life 💕 Jimmy: 😎 Jimmy: Can't we ask for another dog, that'd be peak adulting for you Jimmy: Uping your training game Janis: Trying to break Twix's poor little doggy heart 💔 Janis: You monster, you Jimmy: She's capable of breaking her own Jimmy: Either pining for us or Cass wherever she decides she's gonna sleep Jimmy: 🎻 Janis: Drama 👑 Janis: Takes after you, I reckon Jimmy: I blame her training. Or should I say lack of Janis: 😨 Janis: Friggin' cheek Janis: and you want a puppy? When we've already fucked up our first child? Janis: shocking Jimmy: Only thinking of you, needing that 2nd chance Jimmy: Prove you've still got it, training wise Janis: If I can get you to do your own laundry, we'll call it a victory for me, yeah? 😜 Jimmy: That victory's already mine, proper domesticated me Jimmy: There's something to be said for raising yourself Janis: You'll have to teach me then Janis: Spoilt brat, like Jimmy: Alright 👑 Jimmy: See where Twix gets it from now Janis: Soz we know our worth, babe 💅 Jimmy: I'm not Jimmy: Not looking to be the dickhead that chains you to the sink or owt Janis: Kinky Janis: and good luck, Twix ain't got the dexterity, broken plates all over the shop Janis: and I'd be aiming for your head, like 🏆 Jimmy: Tell it to Mr Lucas before he loses interest now you're 👵 Jimmy: 💪 Bring it on Janis: Being dying to chain me up since day 1 Janis: what do you think the detentions were all about, pervert Jimmy: I wasn't reckoning on him trying to get to me via you for the perfect latte recipe Jimmy: But who can say Jimmy: Got the breath of a bean addict like Janis: 😂 not your usual stalker but think about it Janis: pretty good candidate for the flat whites Jimmy: They do need to make up numbers Jimmy: And he don't seem like a trifler with the application Jimmy: Very committed to hanging around young girls Janis: Yeah, you're devvo your fanbase is dwindling Janis: Certainly one way to get back on everyone's minds and lips, babe Jimmy: Having a cry wank while I pack up me socks Jimmy: Rumbled me Janis: Nasty Janis: leave that one behind, like Janis: nice reminder of you for your Da Jimmy: If you find an odd it isn't your crap laundry skills, mate Janis: Good to know Janis: Can't knock out another one before you go? Janis: Lightweight Jimmy: For you I will Jimmy: You're welcome Janis: 😍 Janis: The romance Jimmy: #goals is my thing so Jimmy: 💐 Janis: Be putting that on the 'gram later then Janis: green with envy or 🤢 Jimmy: Everyone knows your snap is where the good shit goes 😏 Jimmy: Get a story going in every room once we're in, naturally Janis: Shut up 😳 Janis: s'one way to christen it, like Janis: the fans will approve Jimmy: I wouldn't disapprove meself Jimmy: But I'll be #buzzing not to trip over your brother constantly to be honest Jimmy: And not to have Bobby in and out of my bed Jimmy: Privacy like, how and what even is that? 😂 Janis: You clearly loved it Janis: Or he did Janis: either way, get a room 😉 Janis: Its gonna be pure luxury Jimmy: I see you, trying to dump me so you don't have to share the bed Jimmy: Gonna have to get more creative than fobbing me off on your brother, sorry Janis: Nah, you're a pretty good bed mate, to be fair Janis: Snuggly 😘 Jimmy: Only pretty good? Jimmy: Challenge accepted there then Janis: I mean, not saying I've had better Janis: but my last mans was a real 🐻 you know? Jimmy: No need to spur me on to 🏆mate Jimmy: Not with my winning streak Jimmy: 😎💪 Janis: 😏 We'll see Janis: Not leaving your competition at home, Gracie's heart would break, like Jimmy: Thought she'd be used to what a heartbreaker I am by now Janis: Who but me could ever keep up with your games, yeah? 🤷 Jimmy: Running rings round me, you Janis: Huh, a compliment? Janis: Not going to help you with your heavy shit up the stairs like just 'cos you're a 🍭talker Jimmy: I'm not asking. Got your nan coming round in a bit like 😏 Janis: 😂 feeling better with her on side now? Janis: brave, like, having her as your landlady Jimmy: I got no pianos or anvils I'm packing Jimmy: Should be alright Janis: just the 🎻right? Jimmy: Naturally Jimmy: Can't go far without that Janis: Not gotta sing for your supper, like Janis: not promising better than the chipper though Jimmy: Mate in this house that's fancy shit Jimmy: Can take me outta here but Janis: are Cass and Bob gonna come help? Janis: use the term loosely for Bobs but I'm sure I can convince my Da that Cass needs sustenance for all her 💪 Jimmy: They wanna Jimmy: I said they'd be more of a hindrance, especially if they drag Twix along but what can I say, most poorly trained of the lot, they are Janis: I'll whip 'em into shape Janis: Managed you, like Janis: If they got bored they can always go down and play pool and get crisps Jimmy: I give Cass half an hour before she's taking you up on that Jimmy: Over everything she is Jimmy: Fuck knows where she gets that from 😂 Janis: 😏 Right mystery that Janis: Ah to be 15 and have it all figured out, like Jimmy: I don't reckon she does, lad I see her hanging about with Jimmy: Right dickhead he looks Jimmy: Just mates, been there, said that, kid Janis: 👴 Janis: Maybe she's avoided your flair for the dramatic Janis: We can only hope or you're gonna have to be all up on her feed 👀 Jimmy: 🖕 Jimmy: Have a word, will ya Jimmy: Might go in more than one ear you saying it Janis: This what we become already? Janis: Not even in the front door like Janis: Don't let on, the field day the fans would have Jimmy: Dream team, we are Jimmy: On me own I'm just that dickhead Jimmy: Not news to Cass or the fans Janis: You're my dickhead 💞 Jimmy: You're cute 💕 Janis: What can I say? Janis: Prospect of finally getting outta this place and having our own space got me feeling a type of way Jimmy: Cheers to that 🍻 Jimmy: The barn and my car both have their own charms like but Janis: Good times Jimmy: You might be needing them back desperate when it hits what living with me is gonna be like Jimmy: Sure you got me that well trained? Janis: Definitely don't get rid, like Janis: Never know when you'll need to drive off dramatically into the night Jimmy: Or sleep in the backseat when you get mardy enough to kick me out Janis: You know Janis: Living above a pub, may as well act like we're in Eastenders Jimmy: Plot twist, it was Twix framing me all along Jimmy: That bitch Janis: Duff duff duff duff duff Janis: What a cliffhanger Jimmy: Predictable, but we know she is Janis: 😎 Shade Janis: Can't help how irresistible I am Janis: slept with half the square by the end of the month Jimmy: Who am I squaring up to this week 🥊 tune in to find out, lads Janis: Poor babe Janis: When you find out you shoulda been with lovely Lil Mo all along Jimmy: 😂 Jimmy: You come home and I've moved Tam in Jimmy: Thank god for them high ceilings Jimmy: Love story years in the making Janis: 😣 and I'm still gonna hit it 'cos double standards and nah, bitch Janis: take my man, not my flat, how dare you Jimmy: And your 🐶 too Jimmy: Out of order Janis: She's gonna turn up squashed in a car compactor next ep Jimmy: Funny Jimmy: 4 x 4 and she still struggling for that head room Janis: You know that's your type Janis: Typical sketchy photographer, you Jimmy: Shut up Jimmy: Not my fault your sibling rivalry with Gracie included being taller Janis: Likely story Janis: Going some to up your portfolio game tho, lad Jimmy: Go tall or go home Janis: Know I never mastered the artsy fringe but Janis: tah for sticking around still, like Jimmy: You're welcome Janis: Generous to a fault Janis: When you take charity fake dating too far, ladies and gents Jimmy: Fake yeah, Charity nah, babe Janis: Love you Jimmy: If you don't reckon you're beautiful by now I'm gonna have to take more pictures Jimmy: Good thing we've got a blank canvas for a bit Janis: Always wanted to live in a shrine to myself, obvs Janis: I'll have to amateur hour it so peeps know you live here too, like Jimmy: Done Jimmy: Can you? Got that pro status, mate Janis: 👌 I picked up a few tips Janis: you're not totally useless, like Jimmy: Thanks Jimmy: Love you too, like Janis: 💞 Jimmy: Reckon I'm done here Jimmy: Do you want me to come and get you or are we gonna need two trips for the boxes? Janis: Mental you ever unpacked that much tbh Janis: I reckon we can squeeze, no doubt my parents wanna follow like the creepers they are if there's too much anyway Jimmy: Fair Jimmy: and I'm gonna have to go back for Cass and Bob at some point anyway Jimmy: Don't need to be back and forth enough to make my dad think I'll miss the place Janis: Don't reckon even he can pull off that level of purposefully oblivious, like Janis: and don't reckon he wants me to come 'round to say farewell either, not that I EVER set a foot inside, like, nah 😉 Jimmy: Good times Janis: Don't be getting emotional on me now Janis: Look how far we made it, like Janis: 🎻 Jimmy: 😂 Jimmy: I'll be #buzzing if I make it up the stairs with this shit Jimmy: 🚭 lads, who knew it was so bad for you Janis: the ban and the warning labels just flew right over you, like Janis: know you're not that tall but 😏 Jimmy: 😎 Jimmy: Least your warnings worked 😏 Jimmy: Healthy as a 🐎 now like Jimmy: Never seen a horse do stairs is all Janis: is it them you can take up but they won't come down? Janis: or cows, maybe Janis: look, all I'm saying is, don't invite Mia 'round or we'll never be rid Jimmy: Fucked if I know Jimmy: You're the country girl Jimmy: We only have glue up north Jimmy: And burgers Jimmy: No cows Janis: 🙄 Janis: Am not, dickhead Jimmy: Tell it to the veg patch, mate Jimmy: You can move out but there's no leaving all that lot behind Janis: Don't say that Janis: that's the whole fucking point! 😂 Jimmy: You collect all the keys they've got and then we won't give any more out Jimmy: Done Janis: 😍 Janis: now you're talking my language Jimmy: Gotta get you back on side before I'm trapped in a car with you Jimmy: Surrounded by heavy objects Janis: Sensible boy Jimmy: Well trained Jimmy: I'm coming over now Jimmy: 💪 too if you need a hand Janis: Just the one? Janis: Shame 😈 Jimmy: Now you're talking my language Janis: Quicker we unpack the faster they'll all leave Jimmy: Why do you think I'm not bringing much 😏 Janis: Always thinking, my boy Jimmy: Not just a pretty face Janis: Nah Janis: have missed it tho Janis: and not just 'cos I've been staring at boxes for the past few hours Jimmy: Awh 💕 Jimmy: You'll be sick of it soon enough like Janis: Threat or a promise? Jimmy: We'll see Janis: Tease Jimmy: First time you've ever complained though Jimmy: Bit late Janis: Fickle like that Janis: but you knew that too so Jimmy: Nobody can say I didn't know what I was getting into Jimmy: Couldn't even play fake nice, you Janis: You loved it Jimmy: Yep Janis: Thank fuck Janis: Plan B where I had to join the flat whites woulda been rough stuff, like Jimmy: You'd have loved it Janis: Clearly, all I ever want from life is spending more time with my sister Jimmy: 😂 Jimmy: Gonna move her in instead of me then? Jimmy: I'll turn this car around Janis: Hell no Janis: not been able to share a room for years Janis: nevermind a bed, as much as the pervs would love that Jimmy: Think of the 'gram Jimmy: Have I taught you nowt Janis: Don't even fucking suggest it Janis: the idea of that makes likes would defs go to her head Jimmy: I'm here now so feel free to shut me up Janis: 💪 Janis: Coming

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bossladytae · 7 years

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Hi...hi! I hope i'm not bothering you, but can i ask your opinion about oboro? I love him so much and i don't get it why some of fans doesn't like him. thank you so much ^^

Hi! Don’t worry, you’re not bothering me at all. :) I’m always happy to talk about Gintama in any way. That’s why I made this blog.

Sometimes people don’t like certain characters because they just don’t and we don’t have to like every single character. To me, though, that’s different from those who seem to have a personal vendetta against characters and spend their time hating them and talking about how much they hate them, which makes no sense to me. Why waste time on characters you hate when you can invest that time in the characters you love? There’s a difference between critiquing a character and outright hating on them just to be petty and cause drama.

Anyway, on to Oboro, who I like and don’t hate in the slightest – and this doesn’t mean I seek to justify his actions. People get confused on this to the point where they take start judging people’s moral character just from the characters they like, especially if they are villains. This kind of logic comes from the desire to put everyone on a pedestal, even fictional characters, without realizing that it’s possible to like a character without needing to somehow justify what they’ve done so that you can appear morally superior to others. There are some anime and book villains I like, but it doesn’t mean I’m a terrible person who’d do the same bad deeds. It simply means I like the way they were designed and the role they play in the story. Writing a good villain can be as challenging as writing a good hero or character in general.

Okay, now back to Oboro for real:

(Putting the rest of my answer under a cut for spoilers, so heads up, Anon, if you haven’t read the Rakuyou arc.

Also, to the other Anon before, I will reply to your second message with additional thoughts of mine in several hours’ time. My brain needs rest first. Thank you for your patience.)

Some people don’t like Oboro because he’s done some less than heroic things. There’s no going around this and we don’t need to make excuses for what he’s done. Oboro is the leader of the Naraku, who have been in league with the Tendoshuu, who are not exactly nice people. Focusing on Oboro only, he’s fought and injured Gintoki and put the people he cares about in danger. He played a role in Shouyou’s execution, damaged Takasugi’s eye and more, and has just generally shown up to throw a wrench in the plans of the people we usually root for. Plus, being involved with Shouyou in that way caused a lot of physical pain and psychological trauma for Gintoki, Takasugi, and Katsura…that doesn’t exactly make some fans wave their pom-poms for him.

Oboro seemingly died in the Courtesan of a Nation arc and people thought that was the last we’d see of him. Then, he reappeared in the Shogun Assassination arc, where he also seemingly died and they thought that was it. And then he appeared again in the Farewell Shinsengumi arc and sustained major injuries. And then so on to the Rakuyou arc. This man just wouldn’t stay dead or immobilized, and that probably annoyed people, especially when he kept trying to kill Gintoki and others.

As for myself, I liked Oboro before I knew of his back story. I think he’s an interesting antagonist and one of my favourites in the series. One reason is because he’s voiced by Inoue Kazuhiko, who is one of my favourite voice actors. I think Oboro has a cool character design and stellar combat skills. I like that he’s rather stoic and isn’t figuratively twirling his moustache with evil glee like others. He stays calm and composed for the most part, except for when he becomes enraged.

(Doesn’t he look so cool? I had to include this pic.)

I also like that he’s one of the people who can give Gintoki a hard time in battle. Now, that doesn’t mean I like when people harm Gintoki, but if he were all-powerful and constantly defeating people without any challenge at all, it would be boring and predictable. The Gintoki vs. Oboro fight is memorable for the fact that Oboro was a tough opponent who brought back unwanted war memories.

Oboro shares many parallels with Gintoki. Besides physical appearance, they owe their lives to the same man: Yoshida Shouyou. Very much like Gintoki, Oboro tagged along with Shouyou, unwilling to leave him, feeling indebted to him for saving his life. Oboro has a rather low opinion of himself, as shown in the flashbacks of the Rakuyou arc: he didn’t believe himself to be anyone special or of importance to others. An orphan bought and sold by bandits, Oboro didn’t expect anything more and knew nothing more than pain, fear, and emptiness with no purpose in life except to serve others as an object, not a human being. And that makes my heart ache.

He’s not on a quest for ultimate power or to destroy the world for the heck of it. All of that is the result of his loyalty to Shouyou/Utsuro; he’ll do whatever it takes to “remove obstacles in that man’s way,” and if it means the downfall of a nation or killing Shouyou’s other students, so be it. Even years later, he only sees himself as a vessel to be used, a servant to Utsuro, forevermore.

Oboro was willing to do anything for Shouyou, prepared to become even an assassin. He was ready to become the first disciple of Shouyou’s and start a new life with him. And when the Naraku assassins came looking for them, Oboro sacrificed himself just so that Shouyou could escape and make his dream of opening up Shouka Sonjuku a reality. Oboro knew Shouyou no longer wanted to kill, and wanted his teacher and saviour to achieve all that because Oboro loved Shouyou more than his own life. Shouyou made Oboro feel human.

That kind of dedication speaks volumes of Oboro’s character. But, of course, Oboro survived, the Naraku made him one of their own, and he decided to rise up in the ranks – all to protect Utsuro, even if he could no longer be with him. Everything was and is for Utsuro/Shouyou. Everything.

Then, Oboro saw Shouyou with Gintoki, Katsura, and Takasugi. He must’ve been relieved and glad that Shouyou was able to accomplish his dream and give new life to other children…but I can only imagine the deep sorrow Oboro must’ve felt, because he could not be with them, that he was apparently forgotten by the man he was so devoted to. Hearing him express his wish, that he “would have liked to become one of them,” as his dying words…it really breaks my heart because I bet he would have been such a good older brother figure to Gintoki, Takasugi, and Katsura in another world and time.

That deep sorrow turned into something else, and Oboro pulled strings to have Utsuro arrested and then executed. “To get my master, I killed my master” – twisted, to say the least, and yet fascinating. Shouyou returned, but not as the man Oboro once knew: Utsuro. But that didn’t matter – it’s something Oboro points out to Takasugi, the key difference between them. Shouyou, Utsuro, the name doesn’t matter, because he is one and the same to Oboro.

But after his “blood vow” was fulfilled and he was about to die, Oboro told Takasugi and all of Shouyou’s disciples, consequently, the truth about Shouyou/Utsuro. Even at the end, Oboro wanted Shouyou to be free again, free from his immortality that causes him so much suffering. He knows Shouyou’s other students – most especially Gintoki – will be the ones to bring an end to that. He was probably envious of their closeness with Shouyou, that they got to spend more time with Shouyou than he did, but still, he shared vital information to help them, even after he had tried to kill them. Then, as I stated here, I believe Oboro dying at Takasugi’s hands for good was a fitting end for him.

And that’s why I love Oboro. He’s a complicated man and a memorable antagonist. His devotion to Shouyou led him down a twisted and tragic path, but I’m sure he would have preferred it to a life of nothingness without Shouyou.

I can understand why people might dislike him, but I will always be fond of him.

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lostlegendaerie · 7 years

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Ship meme - TATK York and Carolina. I'm writing down my predictions - see how many I get right. ;)

under a cut bc, predictably, its long

Gives nose/forehead kisses

Noses from Carolina, Foreheads from York. (based on height convenience for sudden impulsive kisses)

Gets jealous the most

listen carolina will DIE before she admits to jealousy but Carolina is also one of the most competitive people, EVER. york is usually just super proud of her (”my girlfriend is SO COOL oh my god isnt she the best”) and does dumb shit to get carolina’s attention if he’s feeling neglected (it only goes well like half the time)

Picks the other up from the bar when they’re too drunk to drive

both? they take turns or just take an uber/mass transit home. carolina is usually the one keeping york on track, tho if carolina’s trashed york just humors her every whim and takes tons of pictures/videos

Takes care of on sick days

@agentyorkdakota and i have discussed this scenario in… possibly this au? or a different one? anyway neither will admit they’re sick until they’re Fucked Up, at which point one just undercuts the other and demands they stay home. (York’s preferred method of attack is to blanket burrito Carolina until she stops trying to leave and if he can stays home to be with her, where Carolina overstocks the kitchen/cabinets with every home remedy ever and texts york reminders to take vitamins/pills/etc while she’s at work.

Drags the other person out into the water on beach day

carolina has seen jaws. carolina Knows Better. york can swim by his own damn self.

Gives unprompted massages

Y O R K. no contest here, he does it way more. (he blames his damaged vision for why he’s especially tactile but we all know better.)

Drives/rides shotgun

whenever possible, carolina drives and york rides shotgun half twisted around in the seat so she’s not on his bad side. (york legally can’t drive after sundown anyway)

Brings the other lunch at work

carolina to york, actually. but that’s more because the Blues are too over the top in teasing (”man you are so WHIPPED” “oh man i wish” “what?” “I SAID I BROUGHT FISH”) but carolina never stays long bc her lunch breaks are p short. they usually just eat burgers out back in the parking lot.

Has the better parental relationship

*W I N C E S* let’s. uh. let’s skip this one

Tries to start role-playing in bed

york starts. mutual overachieving assures it dissolves into a heated discussion. carolina suggests he find a DND group. (york suggests she get a better taste in movies, and promptly tastes pillow)

Embarrassingly drunk dancer

considering that this york canonically scaled a three story building while drunk more than once, it’s probably him. he’s okay but like. too suggestible. someone tells him to do the macarena and he doesn’t even pass off his drink first, just drops it where he stands. someone save him.

Still cries watching Titanic

york cries after the fifth time he watches it and the first time with carolina. first time with carolina is the last time bc she storms out at the end and doesn’t talk to york for like three days (because as much as she hates it she sees patterns and parallels in their lives and has nightmares about york dying for weeks afterwards).

tl;dr york cries but recovers, carolina is legit upset and never watches it again.

Firmly believes in couples costumes

i feel like neither of them were really into it until like. some police function where tucker brings wash and they’re like bert and ernie and carolina is furious that she didnt know about the region-wide couples costume contest, demands ex-cosplayer connie to help her and york because they’re going to WIN THIS NEXT YEAR (”sexy bert and ernie can you believe it” “uh huh” “muppets should not be sexy” “uh huh”)

Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas

honestly carolina made the rule to make sure york doesn’t go overboard especially with his student debt and other issues but she also probably secretly gets him really nice things and feigns surprise (he knows tho. it takes him a while to figure it out but carolina comes home once to a very, very enthusiastic boyfriend and its a good day. lots of things are given then.)

Makes the other eat breakfast

york makes sure carolina eats. carolina makes sure york, conversely, eats real food and doesn’t rely entirely on snickers bars to start his morning.

Remembers anniversaries

york painstakingly marks all the little events in his phone calendar and only celebrates/mentions the most important third but he details everything. (the memory of his bubbe forgetting so much with her dementia makes him a little paranoid on that front)

Brings up having kids

carolina, actually, but in the context of getting another shot of her birth control mentions jokingly “i mean, it’s not like we want kids or anything” and york has a moment, briefly, where he thinks about what he wishes kids with carolina would be like (white picket fence, two girls and a boy) and what kids with carolina actually would be (overachieving parents with poor models for child raising running themselves into the ground) and says, softly, “nah.”

#fic: tatk #ask meme #SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER I WILL NEVER BE CONCISE ABOUT ANYTHING #i have too many feelings #and am trying to avoid spoilers #yorkalina #imagentmi

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beowulfs-booty-call · 7 years

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Ooh, interesting. Let's see... 1. What about the Tarot gave you that feeling about me? Sorry, I'm curious how others see me and you have an interesting answer. 2. What are birth cards and what were yours? Never heard of the term. 3. What was that story about you and religious authorities about? 4. Feeling vaguely like testing boundaries on the anything bit, top or bottom? Ignore this one if you want, just curious if you'd answer it or not. I like to test things.

Ah, mm, well, I only said the tarot mainly because, shortly before I answered your previous ask, I ended up using them to answer some personal questions from me. And, well, once you get into that sort of mindset, you start being able to process things like your cards without really needing them. I believe it’s just something that happens for me, but to an extant, you seem to have a sort of... inner turmoil so to speak you’re still clearing away, like anyone else, but, this is something you have to figure out on your own in a way. It’s something only you can decide / choose to change if you so wish it. I’m glad I can glean an intriguing answer, though, I can only go so far as a reader / oracle. In all fairness, it’s as I said in the previous ask, you’ve the potential to bring out others to their best, as well as yourself, but right now, you have issues with both yourself and others that need a little cleaning up first before you can really air out and focus on renewal or new things. It seems rather basic, but, it’s a start on your own journey so to speak! Take it in stride, it only means you’re sure to be well on your way!

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Birth cards are simply Tarot cards assigned to you at your birth. There’s a nifty website that calculates it for you, simply search it up, calculate it, and it’ll give you the cards that are designated to your birthday!

Mine are the Sun, Magician, and the Wheel of Fortune as a whole. Oddly enough, mine are supposedly unique in their manifestations, though. I never really “knew” why, but, I always tried my best in understanding the general message as a whole.

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Ah, well now, I was born to a family who had done some very terrible things in terms of magic. We come from Guyana, way back when slavery was in existence, my ancestors were taken as slaves from India. Mind you, they were a family of priests who had carried with them holy texts and words of wisdom and Hindi words no one dared utter. When they were enslaved, some of the people in my family resisted by concocting their own form of witchcraft. The general term is called, “obeah” which is traditional and more back country styled witchcraft in which more dangerous results come forth and particularly “horror” ideas stem from. My father, who had no interest in the actual thing, still participated helping the practitioners with collecting blood, chicken feathers, the usual things for their spells and craft, though, unknowingly, that came upon me to later learn and cultivate on my own.

My grandmother’s side of the family were of the holistic communities, but they had their fair share of curses and dark rituals, her sister placed an awful curse on my great grandmother, her mother, to die in order to receive money and other material wealth, though, it backfired and she herself also received the curse in the form of a mortal heart condition she must live with for the rest of her days while her mother died. Rumor is, she still screams at night over the ghost of the lady she paid to be killed.

But, when I was born, the ceremony we do, is that the priests open up the astrological texts to arrange a natal chart for the child, along with a nifty “god” chart in which the “proper” god was assigned to a child in which they were allowed a guardian say for. For example, Vishnu, the god of preservation, was considered the planet of Mercury should a child be deemed a Mercurian. And so on and so forth. I however, was not allowed this for some reason. I grew up a tad jealous, but I was never angry for not knowing why. My grandmother, before I split ties with her, trained me so to speak to acknowledge the gods in all forms and beings, though her training was too strictly geared to one God alone (Vishnu), I was far too curious for my own good to stay by her alone. So, I followed my family to the churches we frequented, always stopping services to ask questions about the actual deities, about why we have such ceremonies, and so on from a young age. It was from then, the priests convened with my grandmother and had asked her on the matter as to why I was so rapt with curiosity about the unknown, about the divine and the unattainable.

She had no words for them, but offered that I simply, “knew things.” Now, mind you, I was only about 5 or 6, so, to ask a priest who was nearly 50+ “Who is God, and why can there be so many of them, when all religions are different? Isn’t God everything and everyone? Why not also Jesus?” when I attended Catholic school was quite the heated topic.

And so, I stopped frequenting the church we always went to, learned and debated with other priests about religion, who we are, and so on. But what frightened many was that, should I say something, no matter how casual or easygoing, cryptically, something would happen in that favor.

I recall once, I had the oddest feeling to ask the wife of a priest about her relative, who I happen to be related to. I was slightly concerned about him, but mainly as I hadn’t seen him in a while. She waved it off, claiming she was sure he was completely fine. In about two hours, after the service was over and I was home, my mother received a call from the woman who explained to her that I predicted the man’s death. My mother was shocked, as was the priest. It was around then I was a hot topic, was I really an oracle? Some lucky smart alec who found his calling just being lucky on the guess? It seemed so. And then it happened. I dreamt and met Parvati when I was about 14 or so, just starting out high school and I tried to speak to the priests on it to glean more as I could. I started dreaming about people’s futures, things I couldn't prevent, actions that would only detail the inevitable should I not intervene. It was maddening. The priests claimed I was being ludicrous. That I couldn’t possibly be predicting anything correct.

Without so much as an acquaintance, I asked the man who disagreed with me at once, “Tell me, Pundit, how was your time with your mother? Was the cooking well? You ought to spend time with her more often, I’m sure she would enjoy that.”

I didn’t know his mother, much less, himself. He didn’t know me besides that I was the most talked about kid in my neighborhood. It was... Infuriatingly curious.

I was claimed a devil worshipper, a heathen, all the other ideas, since that time because the pundits were worried I would be able to identify things they couldn't and people would look to me for answers. Truthfully, I didn’t care. I just wanted to know, why. Why me? Why this? Why anything? But they didn’t care. I was to them, a threat to their livelihood. And so, I stopped going to church, and began paving my own path as I’ve now.

So, to streamline as best as I can, because there’s so much more to talk on, and well, I don’t have the energy in my fingertips to write the entire story, I was branded as a witch for being able to predict things without my cards and it completely scared people because faith had led many of us... traditionally. I later took up obeah and used it to my own benefit, twisting it from where it once stood, to something more easier to work with along as practice without harm to anyone else. Soon after getting my first deck, the ability to really be able to prophesize so to speak and glean into others was really coming into play. No one likes someone who’s able to tell you what you don’t want to hear, I would say, back then.

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Mm... I believe I already stated it, but, I’m a verse. I lean a bit more to top though as ways would have it. I happen to have a dom kink, and well, there’s not really much more than that. I suppose I’d bottom if I was in the mood for it, so, I’m really just dependent on mood.

#Wulf answers #Thanks for asking!#mirron91

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