#which was made worse by the world he lived in basically ignoring that depression and sadness existed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cratlord · 10 months

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Prince of the Seas - Chapter 16

Pairing: Bucky x Ruby / Some Bucky x Killian

Summary: Things did not get better for Bucky Barnes after he and Sam had their adventure. They got worse. After years of living only through stolen moments of his own life, he is given a chance to build a life in a whole new world. The catch? That life is going to be a very, very long one. This is the tale of the life built in the Realm that will one day be known as Misthaven, or the Enchanted Forest.

Warnings: Depression, Anxiety, suicidal thoughts, violence, Sexual content

The sound of the summer cicadas was at peak obnoxious levels, the sounds ensuring he had a complete mental image of the forest around him, regardless if his eyes were open or closed. It did a lot to put him at ease.

Teddy stoked the fire while Elanor tapped the ground, listening for edible roots to go with the rabbits Bucky was dressing. It was just like when they were kids and they used to go out to ‘learn from papa’. Of course, they were much less squeamish about the rabbits now than when they were then. They were also much better at camping.

He smiled to himself.

Teddy leaned back on his heels and blew on the embers until his kindling caught, then carefully fed it the twigs he had gathered, keeping the young flame right at the edges of the driest logs. Without taking his eyes off the flame, he spoke quietly, knowing both his father and sister’s hearing was good enough to hear.

“What was it like when you left home, Papa?”

El paused for barely a moment before she went back to her tapping.

Bucky didn’t bat an eye as he tied off the legs so the rabbit was secure on the stick. “I think my situation was a little different, Theodore. I’d like to think I raised you to know I would always love you, no matter what.”

“I know. I was just curious. I knew you joined your kingdom’s army, but you haven’t talked about it since,” he said, finally looking up to meet his eyes.

El poked her head around a tree and set the full force of her eyes on him as well. “Please, Papa. This may be the last time we’re together for who even knows how long.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re so dramatic. Teddy’s going exploring, not leaving the planet. He’ll be back in a handful of years.”

It had not been a surprise when his son had come to him with the desire to travel. He couldn’t blame him. He’d had quite a wonderlust when he was young, but he hadn’t had the ability to sate it. Their mother had been dead for nearly fifteen years, and Bucky and El would live a very long time, so there wasn’t really any reason to put it off anymore.

El pouted. “Years, Papa! Years!”

Even Teddy chuckled at his sister’s antics. “Theatrics aside, what was it like being away from home?”

Bucky sighed and jammed the sticks holding the rabbits into the ground next to where the fire would be in several minutes. “I feel like this is a bit of a depressing topic for our last week together before you leave.”

Teddy smiled up at him briefly before lowering his gaze back to the little flame he was tending. “Yeah, but we’d still love to hear about it.”

A warm breeze blew through their little clearing, bearing with it the pleasant heat which heralded the final end of winter and the growing strength of spring. The trees rustled overhead and the late afternoon sun danced over the skin of his children.

His children who had been begging for more stories since the day their mother died. His children who weren’t really children anymore. He sighed as he burned the remnants of the rabbits from his hands in a quick white flash.

“Fine,” he grumbled. He pulled his cloak tight around him and nestled into the log he was leaning against, ignoring the way the bark dug slightly into his back. “When I left Brooklyn, I didn’t go far at first. Turned out, the training grounds for the group who recruited me was only as far as Jersey. For context, it was probably only a few day’s ride from where I grew up. First they made me go through Basic Training, which was not quite as difficult as what I make the boys do back in Riverhold. It was after that when I met my first team.”

It had been months since Bucky had left home. It was the longest he had ever been away from Brooklyn, or any familiar faces. First it had been basic training, then further training using weapons, then some very specialized training from two men, one from Britain and the other from France. The two men had hated each other, but the skills they taught were important enough that they put their differences aside and did what they had to.

That all served to leave Bucky feeling like an entirely new man from the heartsick boy who had left home. He now knew so much more than boxing. He could wield a pistol or knife as well as his fists, and he was a good enough shot with the rifle that the instructor said he’d never met his equal. On top of that, he was rapidly learning German, both from his teachers and a kind scientist who was living on base. He had a truly terrible accent, but he was understanding more and more every day, and the French instructor (known only as Jacques), was filled with tips on how to hold his mouth differently to affect his accent in both English and German.

The Brit, a man named David, helped Bucky refine a skill he’d always had, but never known how to really improve. David was a master of manipulating people. He always seemed to know where people’s eyes were moving, and what was going through their heads. What’s more, he knew how to explain it in a way that Bucky and his few peers in the training could learn from. With David, he learned how to predict people’s attention, and divert or exploit it when and where he wanted. He learned how to be even better than invisible. He learned the basics of how to go unnoticed, even when seen.

Bucky felt more confident than he had since before puberty. Not arrogant, but confident, as his teachers were quick to remind him that improvement was not only possible, but necessary until one died.

Today was an important day though. He was finally a Sergent, officially, and this was the day he would be getting his first recruits. The men he would be receiving wouldn’t be getting quite the full treatment he had gotten, considering they were anticipated to join the war effort likely within the year, but they would be getting whatever he could give them before they were inevitably shipped out. Lucky they should already have made it through basic at least, so he could maximize his time by teaching them more advanced maneuvers.

He stood outside in the gun yard, waiting and watching. The autumn sun beat down on him, warming his skin even as the late September breeze chilled it. His calm blue gaze followed the steady stream of men leaving the train and heading for the barracks across the camp. Those men would be getting their own brand of hell, in the form of Basic. His boys were only beginning to break away from the pack and meander his direction, and beyond the obvious different path they took, they were easily distinguishable from the rest of the men heading to begin their training.

He already knew all of them, of course. He’d not only gotten their files, he’d been given a briefing over the phone from their previous trainers. He knew how they performed in basic, their basic personalities, and what had drawn each man into the attention of their scouts. He’d taken his job seriously, and he was going to do his best to give each of these men everything he could to maximize their chances of coming home.

He stood silently at parade rest in the designated location while the men approached and didn’t move as they filed in around him. He gave them no indication of who he was, and just let them make assumptions. He kept his eyes and ears peeled, taking special note of their natural interactions when they didn’t realize an officer was watching.

Because he had made sure he didn’t look like an officer. He was still wearing the same green pants and white shirt that all the men were who were here for training. To any newcomer, he looked like he was simply meeting up for the Army Ranger training.

He kept listening while he stood at a casual parade rest. The one he knew was named Dugan was telling a ridiculous joke about his wife in Boston to a couple of other guys, one with an accent so Appalachian Bucky could barely understand the poor bastard. Another group was standing in a loose cluster discussing what they discussed with the scout to get them here. All of that Bucky already knew, but these men would have only really had the chance to meet each other on the train, and that had only been coming from New York, so it was not a long ride by any means.

They all seemed like relaxed sorts on the surface, but they all had that subtle tense weariness that he’d come to recognize as someone looking for where the trouble was coming from. More than one set of eyes scrutinized him, but it took a little time before anyone approached.

The poor bastard that took the plunge was Dugan. He was an odd one, based on his personal history. A literal runaway who joined the circus and became a strong man. And the man was strong. And tall. He was the kind of huge fucking bastard who had never had reason to fear another man in his life and it showed in ever facet of how the man carried himself.

“Hey there, soldier,” he said with a smile, extending his hand. “I’m first private Dugan.”

Bucky looked at the extended hand and gave the behemoth of a man his own shark like smile. “And I’m Agent Barnes.”

The affect was instantaneous as every man jumped to attention in a straight row. Within two seconds he was looking at a ruler straight line of men each at full attention. He couldn’t help the laughter that pierced the cool morning, only getting louder as the men started to sweat.

“You didn’t really do that to those poor men, did you?” El asked poking the tubers on the big skillet which was perched in some embers.

Bucky laughed out loud. “Of course I did. What’s the point of being an officer if I can’t fuck with people?”

Teddy rolled his eyes. “Why anybody gave you a rank is beyond me, Papa.” He set his eyebrows in a quizzical look. “I thought I remembered that you were a Sergent, not whatever an agent is. Did you get demoted, or would it be promoted?”

Bucky pursed his lips while he turned the rabbits on their sticks with his metal hand over the fire. “I was both, technically, though in the public record, it was listed as Sergent. It was a bit complicated.”

He was more than willing to leave it at that, but both his kids hit him with the double whammy. He got the eyes and pouts. He shook his head and gave a chuckle.

“Fine, you little shits,” he said graciously, prompting both to grin. “In my world, the army was a much bigger organization than it is here. The population was much higher, and the world more densely populated than anything either of you have seen. In the main army, I was listed as a Sergent, but it was in the SSR, or Strategic Scientific Reserve, I was listed as an agent, which had the pay scale of a lieutenant actually. The main difference was that the SSR worked within the other branches, secretly and unofficially. On top of that, nobody was drafted into the SSR, it was very selective and only took the best of the best. A private in the SSR was on the same pay scale as a First Sergent in the regular army.

“Course, the trade off was that we spent an indecent amount of time behind enemy lines, coordinating with various resistance groups and in general making a nuisance of ourselves for our enemies. Of my first group, only half survived the war, and nobody left unscathed.”

Elanor cocked her head to the side and opened her mouth to ask a question when all three of them tensed and froze.

A horn had sounded. One long blast, then three short ones, followed by a mid length one.

“Shit,” Bucky cursed to himself. He looked up at his kids, both of whom were looking at him with the first glints of fear in their eyes. He locked eyes with his eldest.

“Teddy, I need you to go to the Duke. The first scouting parties have arrived, and the main tribe will follow. We need reinforcements if we are going to hold off without any damage to the town.”

He looked down at the rabbit thoughtfully, then turned to his bag and pulled out a cloth. He put the biggest rabbit and a couple of the smaller tubers in the cloth and wrapped them up to hand to him. “Take these, son. And your horse.”

Teddy looked at him with the biggest eyes he’d ever seen as he grabbed the bundle. “Papa…” he muttered softly.

Bucky crouched around the fire and knelt next to where his son was sitting and pulled him in for a firm hug. “I love you more than words are capable of expressing. Don’t worry about us. Go.” He leaned back to grab his son’s face and look earnestly into his eyes. “See the world. Meet new people. Try new things. Learn as much as you can. We’ll be here waiting for you.”

Teddy lifted a hand to his fathers which was still cupping his face. “You sure you don’t want me to stay and help?”

Bucky was already shaking his head before Teddy even finished speaking. “Get out of here. I wish we could have enjoyed more of our camping trip. I’d have loved to see you to the duke’s gates myself, but I know you are a good enough woodsman to make it there on your own. After all, I taught you myself.”

“Thanks, Papa,” he said, finally pulling back from their embrace.

As if that were the signal, all three of them began moving in a rush. The small clearing they were in was just big enough for their campsite and the horses. Teddy went over to saddle his own while Bucky and El began gathering his bedroll and necessities. In barely five minutes he was ready, holding the reigns as he looked back at his father and sister.

“I’ll send word back when I can,” he said, a small smile creeping through the concern on his brow.

El grinned back at him. “And that better be often, or else!” Teddy just rolled his eyes and pulled his bratty little sister into his arms. They held each other for several seconds, then finally Teddy stepped back first, eyes noticeably moist. “I’ll miss you, brat.”

She stuck her tongue out at her older brother, the effect not diminished in the slightest by the single tear trailing down her face. “I’ll miss you too, turd.”

The small family gave one last soft smile at each other before Teddy turned away from them. He stepped carefully, leading his horse back into the trees in the direction of the nearby road, which was just far enough through the trees to provide a bit of privacy to the campers from any passers by.

Bucky watched him go, his heart heavy in his chest. His son was freshly seventy-six. Most parents didn’t even live to see their children this old, yet here he was mourning that he was only just now watching his boy move out from under his roof. True, they lived in an Inn, so living in the same building felt more like living in the same apartment building than the same house, but still. He would go from seeing his son almost every day, to maybe not seeing him for years.

He stood still and listened as Teddy finally broke through the trees and mounted his horse. Within second, he was at a gallop down the familiar road towards the Duke’s city. He looked over to El, who was watching in the distance clearly listening the same as he was. They locked eyes and kept their gaze until the sounds of Teddy’s horse was dim even to their enhanced ears.

The signal sounded again on the horn.

Bucky sighed and moved over to where he had put Al’s saddle bags. He fished around in one of them and pulled out a long horn of his own. Several blasts of varying length later, he stowed the horn back into his bag.

“So, what now Papa?”

He stood from his crouch and turned his intense gaze back to his daughter. She was tall and lean, like her mother, with her mother’s long, wavy black hair, but his big blue eyes. He knew the men of town made a game of trying to flirt with her, but so far only one had caught her eye and even still, she hadn’t done anything about it. It was hard for the men to understand, but not Bucky. He understood perfectly.

Despite her affectionate nature with her family, her heart was not that of a lover. In her chest beat the heart of a warrior. He’d known since she was a child she was destined for glory on the battlefield. She could out spar any grown man but himself before she was even fifteen. Unlike her brother, who went down more of a scholars path, she endlessly pursued her martial prowess. She had even managed to learn a few spells to aid her in battle. She’d learned everything she could from Bucky in an effort to be as much like him as a non-god could be… and she’d basically succeeded.

He smirked. “You heard my signal. Word has been sent. Now, we ready for war.”

Next Chapter

Chapter List

#Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu crossover #once upon a time crossover #family bonding #dad bucky

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simplystevies · 2 years

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like a fool.

pairings || neighbour!bucky barnes x f!reader

summary || be careful who you stand up, their neighbour could be a world famous assassin.

warnings || 18+ minors dni, threats, pet names (sweetheart), displays of depression, oral (m rec), unprotected sex, mentions of beating guys up, reader gets stood up, angst.

note || @strwbrrybucky, i hope you enjoy this, and i’m so so so sorry it took this long to get out, i hope it’s up to your expectations baby <3 WHAT is going on with my title.

wc || 2k

living beside james “bucky” barnes was almost like living beside no one. he was so caught up in his past, he forgot he could leave his house without people trying to kill him around every corner.

you would see him in the mornings, you two had made a habit of you giving him breakfast before you leave just to make sure he was alive. then you’d hear him at night.

the noises you heard at night weren’t at all innocent, somedays you suspected he was a pornstar, but the paper thin walls of the cheap apartment made everything sound a million times worse.

you understood that seventy years in ice would’ve given him a lot of built up.. tension, but some nights he gets so loud you think he’s having a heart attack.

bucky was always a sweet guy, you always understood that men have their needs so you never brought it up to him. it didn’t help that your bed was next to the wall, with no way of moving it.

bucky had been at the apartment for a year and a half before you moved in. you didn’t think any of the neighbours knew he was living there. every friday night, you ordered food.

both you and bucky enjoyed food while watching a movie. some nights, you two would just share stories. it was hard to get bucky to laugh, but when he did he sounded like an angel.

you and bucky had grown close over the while you lived in the apartment. you would’ve considered him a close friend.

cooking breakfast for bucky was probably one of the easiest tasks of your day. bucky had a weird taste, so he would eat whatever you cooked up for him. whatever you had, he had.

sometimes you went basic with some fried eggs, bacon and some toast. bucky appreciated everything you did for him. you’d even go shopping for him on occasion, wether it was for food or for clothes.

somedays you felt like his care giver. you didn’t mind, because he was a great person to be around when he was happy. he looked out for you.

he was a sweetheart, when he opened up and was comfortable around you. he would always protect you, even if he knew you were in the wrong.

leaving your apartment, with a bag of food and your bag for work, you walked into bucky’s. you knew he was already awake, and you knew his door would be unlocked, which is surprising, considering how he tells you there’s people after him.

you hummed to yourself as you placed the bag on his table, setting up the food. “breakfast is ready!” you yelled, waiting to hear the rustling noise.

when you didn’t hear them, you walked into his room confused. you saw bucky, lying in bed with all the curtains closed. you pouted and took off your jacket.

“buck? you okay?” you asked in a small whisper, sitting beside his mountain he formed under the blanket. bucky grumbled and stayed in the same spot, not turning over to see you.

you sighed, knowing bucky was having one of those days. you pulled off your jacket, throwing it over a chair. you put your phone on silent and got into bed behind bucky.

“i’m right here if you need me.” you whispered, kissing his cheek before turning over, you could do with a longer lie in anyways.

after about an hour, you woke up to bucky wrapped around your arm and twelve missed calls from your boss. “just wanted a sleep in.. sorry.” bucky mumbled, turning onto his back before sitting up.

“it’s fine buck, i could’ve done with one too.” you smiled, looking over at him. “do you have any plans?” bucky asked, getting out of the bed and throwing a shirt and sweatpants on.

you felt bad in saying this, but you didn’t want to lie and ignore it. “i have a date, in a few hours.” you said, sitting up. bucky looked back at you, slightly shocked. “a date? with who? it’s movie night.” bucky whispered the last part.

you sighed and stood in front of him. “i should be back before twelve, okay?” you tried to assure him, but he wasn’t having it. “you shouldn’t be going at all, you made a promise that fridays were for our movie night, y/n.” his voice got louder and louder with every word.

a shudder went down your spine as you flinched, bucky realised what he said and his face softened immediately. “maybe you should stop hanging onto promises given to you long ago and start being grateful for what someone continues to do.”

it was rough, you knew that, but all the built up anger couldn’t stop falling out. “stop being such a burden and maybe then i’ll keep a stupid fucking promise.” you spat, picking up your jacket and bag, rushing out of his apartment, not forgetting to slam the door shut.

you felt like your throat was swelling up, you couldn’t breathe, then you realised. you were fucking crying. you let out a loud sob, your hand instantly connecting with your mouth to cover the others threatening to slip out.

you ran a hand through your hair, sighing slightly before wiping your tears and going to the bathroom. you might as well get ready for your date if you just opened up your entire day.

once you were ready, you waited by your door for a message. nothing. maybe he would just text you when he’s outside. you hummed to yourself as you walked out of your apartment. you were stood in shock as you were greeted with bucky standing at the stairs.

you wanted to talk, you really really did but you just couldn’t. you turned back to your door, locking it quickly. “you look beautiful.” bucky said as he walked past, opening his door and going into his apartment.

your eyes widened as you bit your lip, turning around and rushing downstairs. you sat on the step and waited on the cold concrete for any sign of the man that promised to pick you up ten minutes ago.

a half hour ago.

an hour ago.

an hour and a half ago.

you sighed and shook your head, standing up and turning around. bucky was stood there with a small smile. “i saw you.. from my window.” bucky pointed up to his window, as if he were a toddler explaining what their babbles meant.

“why did you come down?” your question came out more aggressive than you thought it would. bucky let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “you know, if anyone should be mad, its me, so don’t pull an attitude with me, honey.” he spoke, his tone mixed with both anger and humour.

you couldn’t talk, it was like your mouth was glued shut. “i’m sorry.” was all you could say as your head dropped. “come on, i made dinner.” bucky smiled, shaking his head.

bucky’s metal arm wrapped around yours as you both walked upstairs. bucky acted like you didn’t just flip your shit at him, and brought you up to his apartment and fed you dinner.

“you know, you should leave the cooking to me, buck.” you shook your head, putting the plate on the coffee table. bucky laughed and nudged you slightly. “you were right, i am a burden especially on you and i’m sorry.” bucky whispered, playing with his fingers.

you sighed and sat on his lap, something that regularly happened between you two so you both thought nothing of it. “i didn’t mean that, i’m sorry, i was angry and i just said anything.” you sighed.

bucky nodded and his lips pursed. you two sat in a comfortable silence, your head slowly moving onto his shoulder. bucky’s mind ran wild.

he hated thinking of you in such disgusting ways, but he couldn’t help it when you were the only woman in his life, and you happened to be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

he hated this position you sat in, he liked you being on top of him, but jesus christ the thoughts that ran through his head made him want to hate it.

he thought about taking you there, slowly but definitely ruining you for any other man. maybe he’d go fast, show you who owns you. maybe even pull you up, have you sit on his face while he enjoys your taste.

the possibilities were endless, and bucky wanted to do you in every position imaginable. every night, he got off to the thought of your hand wrapped around him, taking care of him in ways he wanted you to instead of ways he needed.

he didn’t even realise his hips grinding against your inner thigh, the tent in his jeans massaging you slightly. you bit your lip, pulling into him closer. “bucky.. you’re kinda—“ you started.

“oh shit, fuck i’m sorry.” he raised his head, lifting you off. he fixed his pants and looked away from you. trying to look at him was a dead end, he kept moving or finding anything to do.

“bucky, look at me.” you grabbed his face, looking into his blue eyes. bucky bit his lip, pulling away from you almost instantly. “it’s fine, these things happen, don’t worry.”

bucky nodded, leaning his head back and squeezing his eyes shut. you looked down at his lap, seeing the tent more obvious than ever. you hesitated for a second, before going to unbuckle his belt.

“what are you doing?” bucky asked, bucking his hips slightly. you finally got his belt loose, pulling his pants down slightly. “i’m taking care of you, like i promised i would.” you whispered.

your hand connected with his clothed cock, hard as ever. from just the small amount you could feel, you knew he was massive. “fuck.. don’t tease sweetheart.” bucky huffed.

you nodded and took your hand away from him, pulling his briefs down. bucky’s cock was bigger than you could ever imagine. the super soldier serum worked wonders.

a small gasp left your lips as his cock shot up and slapped off the bottom of his hoodie. “jesus bucky, you’re fucking massive.” you gushed, chewing on your lip slightly.

bucky tried to smile, instantly being caught off by a small moan from you gripping the base of his cock. you smirked and licked his tip, moaning at his taste.

“you taste as good as you look.” you whispered, slowly moving your hand up and down his base. bucky groaned, lifting you up and ripping off your pants with his metal hand.

the sight left you dripping, your panties absolutely ruined. no doubt you would be too. bucky wasted no time in pulling off the pathetic amount of fabric, it was like you were asking bucky to fuck you by wearing them.

bucky’s hands gripped your waist, pulling you down onto him quickly. you cried out, your hands pulling on his hair roughly. “oh fuck!” you yelled out, throwing your head back.

“if i knew you were that tight.. i would’ve gone slower.” bucky chuckled lightly, rolling your hips slowly. you put your head on his shoulder, letting the tears fall down your face.

bucky grabbed your face, making you look at him. “did i do too much? will i stop?” bucky asked, letting go of your hips. you shook your head and wiped your tears, slowly bouncing against him.

“just go slow.. please.” you whispered, kissing his jaw. bucky nodded and slowly thrusted into you, meeting your bounces.

the both of you were like starved dogs running at a piece of meat. hands all over each other, kisses and hickeys falling everywhere. “i love you so fucking much.”

those words made you clench around his cock, crying out as you felt your release inch closer and closer. “god bucky.. fuck!” you threw your head back, releasing against him.

bucky moaned quietly, his hands gripping your ass tightly before releasing into you. you moaned at the feeling of him releasing inside of you, gripping his shoulders.

bucky was quick to take you off his lap and get himself dressed. “you in a rush?” you giggled, pulling up your panties. “yeah, actually, i have to go beat up your tinder date.” bucky said as he walking through the door.

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ramzawrites · 3 years

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can i request an angsty sbi fic where sibling reader lost two lives saving others (maybe tubbo at the festival?) and they see everything falling apart (techno and phil destroying everything, wilbur dead and tommy focused on the disks) and they pretend to be ok while their mental health gets worse and worse until they decide to end it, and people only realise they weren't okay after the death message pops up and their reactions to seeing it? if not thats completely fine, ik its pretty heavy

Broken

Pairings: none

Characters included: Wilbur, Tommy, Philza, Tubbo, Technoblade

Warnings: depression, suicide (falling, non descriptive), angst

Series: a request!

Summary: Y/N just wanted their home back. They just wanted to live a peaceful life but instead all their hopes and dreams got ripped apart by the people they loved the most.

Words count: 3647

Authors Note: Honestly I could have shortened it quite a bit but here we are, it’s way longer than I wanted but I hope you guys enjoy this. I’m sorry if this went kind off of rails to what you might have envisioned. Also I hope that you guys know that you are loved and appreciated. I appreciate you for taking the time to read my stuff :] Here is m favorite video to cheer me up some times, hope it can cheer you up as well!

I’m also curious what your guys thoughts and opinion are on this or my writing in general! Can’t get better without feedback :]

Y/N loved their family.

They were all pretty chaotic but so was Y/N, following their siblings into trouble ignoring any possible consequences.

So when Wilbur proclaimed he would create an independent Nation inside the SMP that was owned by Dream himself, you bet that Y/N was standing right beside him.

When Wilbur would struggle with his tasks or was weighed down by doubts they would swoop right in and do their best to support him. Every time Wilbur would say “I don’t know what I would do without you sometimes.” While Y/N didn’t do it for praise but out of love for him it was still nice knowing that he appreciated them and that he took note of their work.

Tommy wasn’t really for heartfelt words but he too expressed in his own way how much he appreciated them being around. Most of his schemes wouldn’t have even happened without Y/N’s help after all. As a way to say thanks he would let them just take stuff fout his chets or when he heard they needed a specific resource he would wander out and get it for them. Of course saying something on the lines of “I was out there anyhow, so I brought some with me. It was on the way.” Y/N could read between the lines though. They grew up with him after all.

Y/N put so much energy into L’Manberg they couldn’t help but be in love with this little nation. They would do everything to protect their home.

When Y/N lost their first life it was together with their siblings protecting their nephew Fundy.

The Dream Team suddenly retreated after another battle against L’Manberg. While the group was celebrating what they thought was their first victory in ages, Eret appeared. She told the group of a small bunker with more resources.

Still celebrating Wilbur, Y/N, Tommy, Tubbo and Fundy made their way towards the bunker. The bunker that would later go down into history as “The Final Control Room.”

Inside they all looked at the labeled chests only to notice that they were empty. Eret then pressed a button which opened up secret walls with the Dream Team standing behind. She herself got into safety as Dream and his friends merciless attacked the L’Manberg faction.

As soon as Y/N understood what was happening they did their best to form a wall between the attackers and Fundy. Slowly pushing him out of the room while they made sure to block the exit, giving the Fox Hybrid enough time to run away.

When they woke up again it was inside their home. In L’Manberg. Sore from the respawning.

Once they did respawn though it didn’t take long for Fundy to barge into their room and throw himself against them, thanking them. Wilbur was close by, looking worse for wear as well but incredible thankful nonetheless.

After that and a few battles more Tommy challenged Dream to a duel in order to secure independence. He lost so instead he bartered his music discs for freedom.

After Tommy respawned a second time Y/N made sure to spent most of their time hovering around him. Making sure he was doing alright.

But with that L’Manberg was independent and it was Y/N’s time to shine. Sure, they worked hard on strengthening the infrastructure of the nation but now, maybe even because of that, they basically coordinated all the new builds.

Shops, homes and other things were being build with them overseeing it. Meanwhile Wilbur and Tommy took care of the political part only to come to the conclusion that they had to have a proper election.

At first it started innocently enough as well. New political parties were made that begun advertising themselves. Funny enough they would always come to Y/N asking them where they could hang up their posters. It was then that Y/N realized that the people saw them as some sort of authority, even asking them if they wanted to start their own campaign. They politely declined, saying they worked best as a support role.

Then Schlatt entered the stage and everything got thrown upside down.

In the end he managed to become the next president via a coalition and his first declaration as the president, or emperor as he called himself, was to exile Tommy and Wilbur.

As they ran for their life Y/N didn’t hesitate to follow. It hurt them so much to leave L’Manberg, their fruit and labor, behind. This only got worse once they realized that Tubbo was basically left alone back at the city under Schlatt’s rule.

Then Pogtopia got established.

Tommy, Wilbur and Y/N did their best to get a proper foothold again. Gathering resources and planning for ways to get their home back. And to accomplish this they soon called in the oldest sibling of the group, Technoblade.

Techno has been away for the longest time now. He moved out early to travel the world and apparently train himself. Somehow Tommy found a way to get a message to him, so he made his way towards Pogtopia.

He wasn’t big on words or emotions but as soon as he arrived he let Y/N hug him.

“This is a onetime deal, Y/N.”

With Techno they finally felt like they had a chance. Y/N could maybe return home someday. Back when they were children Techno always looked out for them so to have him back Y/N felt infinitely safer.

All the while Wilbur showed more and more signs that his mental health was rapidly declining. Y/N did their best trying to cheer him up but there was only so much they could do. Especially since they themself were struggling.

L’Manberg was their everything and now it was under the iron rule of Schlatt. They had to watch as Schlatt walked through the nation, ripping apart builds that they commissioned or even built themself. Every time he did something like that it felt like another stab wound directly into their heart.

Then the festival happened where Y/N lost their second life protecting Tubbo.

Schlatt wanted to apparently celebrate democracy and his amazing rule. Tommy and Wilbur weren’t allowed to join while Techno and Y/N received an invitation.

Y/N was very wary of that. They learned from Tubbo that Schlatt apparently was pretty interested in bringing them over to Manberg since a lot of the residents trusted them and saw them more as an authority than Schlatt himself, so bringing them over would probably also bring a lot of the residents around to his rule.

On the day of the festival Y/N made sure to stay close to Techno. Holding on to his arm and basically hiding behind him, not feeling up to talk with all the people in Manberg.

The people were happy to see them but Y/N was tired. They haven’t slept properly ever since the exile, too many thoughts that kept them awake.

Then the speeches started.

Honestly Y/N wasn’t really listening, their attention purely on a broken old building. It used to be the place where Y/N and the other residents would meet up and map out their plans for new builds. Discussing and even sometimes arguing on what materials should be used and where to get them. Now it was empty.

Their attention got pulled back towards what was actually happening once Tubbo begun speaking. It was a nice little speech Y/N had to admit.

Just as Tubbo was about to leave, Schlatt moved back in. Holding him in place and pushing him in something that Y/N had to describe as a cage with the help of Quackity.

“Techno, buddy. Come up here for a sec.”

Technoblade tensed up but still moved towards the stage. There Schlatt uttered the words that pulled the rug out from beneath Y/N once again.

“Kill him Techno. He is a traitor.”

“Don’t you dare!” Y/N yelled out, making their way towards the stage as well.

Y/N knew Techno couldn’t deal well with social pressure, especially when there were about ten people or more behind him that could attack him at any point.

Tubbo looked so scared as he pressed himself against the wall. There was no escape for him.

When Techno moved his crossbow up, aiming directly at Tubbo, Y/N let out another scream. Urging him to stop.

Explosions. Colorful explosions filled the place.

“Y/N!” it was Tubbo screaming their name out.

Just as Techno pressed the trigger Y/N managed to jump in front, the rockets hitting them instead of Tubbo.

Their older brother looked absolutely mortified “Y/N? Wha- What? Why? How?” staring at Y/N’s lifeless body that slowly dissolved. They were slowly respawning but seeing his siblings body was enough to send him in some sort of frenzy.

Filled with bloodlust he aimed his crossbow towards Schlatt and Quackity. Killing them with one press of the trigger only to turn around and aim his crossbow towards the people.

As this happened Tommy enderpearled over, screaming at Techno.

He helped Tubbo out of the cage who was still in a state of shock. He only saw Y/N for a second and the next they were laying on the ground in their own blood.

Y/N heard the details later after they respawned. Tommy had apparently been incredibly angry at Techno, even attacking him. Wilbur then offered that the two deal with their argument via a fistfight inside a pit.

Normally Y/N would have yelled at Wilbur for that. Would have told him that this was his dumbest idea yet but they were too shook from what had happened to them.

Technoblade always spelled safety to them but he killed them. Sure, he meant to kill Tubbo but that didn’t really make it any better. They gave him an out, they would have helped fighting off all these people so they could flee.

The next time they saw Techno they flinched every time he got too close to them and yet they still put on a smile “Never, do this again.”

Techno only nodded.

After this downward slope the momentum didn’t seem to stop for them. Wilbur dropped even more and more off. Falling victim to his paranoia. Y/N tried their best convincing him to not blow up Manberg, that they will fight to gain it back. At this point trying to gain back their L’Manberg was the only thing they could hold on to.

Though all that work was for nothing.

The war to take back L’Manberg went way differently than they all had imagined. Y/N fought with a viciousness most didn’t think they had it in them. This was the day for them to finally regain what they had wished for, for the longest time now.

Everything came to a halt once Dream surrendered. He showed them Schlatt who was sitting in the Carmavan. Drunk off his mind he yelled and screamed at people only to die of a heart attack which meant that the Pogtopia faction won.

The people begun cheering, they had their home back! They were free! Y/N was probably the loudest by far. It felt like a huge weight was lifted from their shoulders. All this hardship and they could finally return to working with the others and rebuild L’Manberg. Return it to its former glory.

Tubbo got appointed President and Y/N was happy with it. Tubbo had an eye for building and was a good person, with him they were sure they could do some amazing things.

Apparently Techno thought otherwise. Instead he pulled Soulsand out, holding onto the Wither skulls as a visible threat.

Y/N had somewhat forgiven Techno for what had happened. It was a stressful situation and they acknowledged it but seeing him there, threatening to kill all of them? That they knew they couldn’t forgive quite so easy. Especially since he made some sound points but it was their L’Manberg. The people didn’t like living under Schlatt’s rule, this wasn’t something that could be described simply as a coup. Technically he was right but only technically. There were so many things that came into play that could let you argue over that but Techno would have none of it. Yelling something about Tommy only wanting to be a hero.

When the first explosions rang Y/N thought it came from a Wither but Techno was still in the middle of putting the heads onto the structure.

When more explosions rang and the ground beneath their feet broke away, Y/N understood what had happened.

At some point Wilbur ran off and must have pressed the button. The button that set the TNT beneath the city ablaze, effectively destroying everything.

Y/N was too busy with finding hard ground again and then dealing with the Withers and Techno that they only noticed after the fighting ended, how broken the nation was now.

They had won. Why would Wilbur do this? He knew how much the nation meant to them and again, they had won, so there was no reason for blowing the place up!

And if that wasn’t enough to see how both their older brothers destroyed everything Y/N worked for, they also had to see how Philza, their father, stood next to the corpse of Wilbur. It felt like they lost everything.

They lost their trust in Technoblade.

They lost their hopes and dreams via Wilbur blowing up the freshly liberated L’Manberg.

They lost their trust in their own father who had slain his own son.

Y/N felt absolutely crushed. Family was so important to them and it was their own family that destroyed their hopes and dreams. They did everything for them and this is how they repaid them?

Once everything calmed down and Tubbo begun making plans on how to rebuild the nation, he immediately came to Y/N for help but they hesitated which worried him.

“Is everything okay? Usually you would have jumped on that offer, Y/N.”

Y/N put on a smile that didn’t seem to reach their eyes “Don’t worry Tubbo, of course I’ll help you. I’m just tired from what we have been through. I finally have time to take a breather and I think it all just crashed down on me.”

“Well if you ever need help you can talk to me.” It was an earnest offer that Y/N would never take advantage of.

Y/N mostly ignored Philza. He talked with them a few times and even explained what has happened but Y/N still made a wide berth around him. Seeing him just hammered back down the feeling of distrust and hurt. Their familial relationship took a hard hit from that point on.

With Ghostbur it was a weird situation as well. They enjoyed spending time with him but were also always incredibly sad around him. Ghostbur took notice of this and would always offer them to take some of his blue but Y/N declined every time.

“Don’t worry Ghostbur. Everything is still just fresh in my mind. I’ll be back to my old self in no time. You take care of yourself, you hear?”

“Of course Y/N! You have always looked out for me, thank you.”

L’Manberg slowly took on a proper form again but it wasn’t the L’Manberg Y/N knew. It felt to them like they were standing on top of a grave. A grave for their dreams and it was getting hard, real hard, to walk through it every day seeing places where they know specific buildings should be standing. Buildings they build on their own only to be destroyed by their brothers doing.

Then Tubbo exiled Tommy and Y/N felt conflicted. They felt obligated to stay in L’Manberg since they were the main person people came to for builds but that was their brother. Their only brother they still trusted and felt a need to protect.

Instead of following him into exile they stayed in the city. Visiting Tommy whenever they could, noticing pretty fast that he was struggling hard with his situation and for once they didn’t feel strong enough to properly support him. Y/N tried their best but once they noticed they couldn’t reach him completely they gave up a tiny bit.

It reminded them too much of Wilbur.

So while they visited him and helped them where they could, they spent more and more time alone in their home only coming out for work and other necessary things like food. Soon it was normal to see them with ever present dark circles beneath their eyes.

Before Philza disappeared to join Techno, he would stop by Y/N’s home all the time.

“Have you eaten, yet?”

“Yes, dad. I’m an adult. I can take care of myself.”

“I just haven’t seen you much lately and I got worried.”

“Don’t worry. I’m fine. Hey, if you go out, please, can you tell Ghostbur to stop coming around to throw Blue inside my mailbox? He won’t listen to me but perhaps he will to you.” And they would always carry the same big smile on their face accompanied by empty eyes.

The only time their happiness reached their eyes again was when Tommy returned from his exile. They crashed into their younger sibling holding him close to them and muttering apologies. He pried them off, embarrassed by all of this.

This short bout of happiness was destroyed by Doomsday. Dream, Technoblade and Philza once again made sure to set L’Manberg ablaze.

The second time Y/N’s fruits and labor got completely annihilated by their family but still they had some hopes this time. They still had Tommy on their side they could just finally build a home somewhere else and live in peace but Tommy had other ideas. He had it in his mind to get his discs back and he would do anything for it.

So while Y/N tried to ground themself with new hopes and ideas, holding onto the only constant of what was important to them, that being Tommy, Tommy ignored them. He was too busy with his own things and the worst part was that Y/N couldn’t even fault him for it.

They understood how much these discs meant to him and that this was something that had to come to an end but with this they lost another, and possibly their last, anchor point.

Yet you could still see them running around with a smile, tending to every one and trying to help out the best they could.

Then suddenly they were gone. They just disappeared one day. The few people who took note of that took some time to look around but there was no sign as to where they left. Y/N didn’t take their armor with them nor any weapons or food.

< Y/N succumbed to despair and fell of a high place>

When every ones communicators rung out with this message the SMP fell quiet.

Tommy couldn’t believe what he was reading. This didn’t make any sense. Y/N was fine! They would talk with them and everything looked fine! This must have been a cruel joke from Dream somehow, right? This couldn’t be real. Why would Dream do this? This didn’t seem to make sense.

Exactly there was no sense in Dream doing this.

While Tommy was battling with his thoughts Tubbo came running over to him. Tears streamed down his face.

“What happened? Why did this happen? Where are they?”

Tommy was visibly shaking “I- I have no idea. I don’t know. They looked fine. I’m- I’m not sure. Tubbo-“

Tubbo just slammed into him, giving him a proper hug, trying his best to help Tommy through his rising panic. He lost another sibling and by Ender that hurt.

Meanwhile in the snowy Tundra both Philza and Techno were staring at their communicators as well.

Philza was pale. So pale it almost rivaled the snow around him.

Techno had his brows furrowed. For anyone who didn’t know him well enough he looked at best displeased with this situation but Philza could see the small details that told a different story. Him sucking his breath in as he read the message, hiding his quivering lip in his cloak. He was heartbroken.

Sure the two weren’t on good speaking terms but Y/N was still his younger sibling. He still loved them.

Philza felt similar. He acknowledged that he screwed up and honored their wish to be left alone by him but he never imagined this could lead to their death. His knees buckled and he sank to the ground. Two of his children died, one directly by his hand and the other due to his inaction.

His eyes glossed over, the world became a blur and yet he continued rereading this message over and over. Y/N just lost their last life.

Philza could hear Techno walk closer to him and sat down on the ground as well.

“Y/N is-“ Philza begun but he didn’t know what he wanted to say. State the obvious to his eldest son?

“I have more fault in this than you, dad. Don’t feel guilty.” His voice was uncharacteristically weak. Wavering as he spoke. He wanted to cheer Philza up but it was a weak attempt.

“What have we done.”

Ghostbur was at first confused when he read the message. It was like he couldn’t connect the dots but it slowly dawned on him what this meant.

“Oh my.” His usual happy demeanor was suddenly gone.

He touched his face and as he put his hands back down he saw how they were smeared with blue.

“Y/N is dead?”

His usual ghost behavior seemed to break a bit. It was like through the warped version of Wilbur that was called Ghostbur for a moment the true version of him came through again. And he was hurt. Devastated.

“I think I need to find the others.” He mumbled to himself, making his way towards his family. All the while he held onto the blue wool of Friend like a lifeline. Combing through it nervously. Blue continuing to spill from his eyes.

#mcyt x reader #mcyt reader insert #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x Y/N #dream smp reader insert #dream smp fanfiction #dream smp x reader #dream smp x Y/N #dsmp fanfiction #dsmp reader insert #dsmp x reader #sbi #sleepy bois inc #ramza writes #Anonymous #anon request

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nitpick7 · 3 years

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Ayo anyone wanna see my essay on why removing Anybody Have A Map made the Dear Evan Hansen movie worse? It is slightly long

Disclaimer: I did like the movie (I cried three times), but I think they made some stupid decisions with it.

Dear Evan Hansen movie + musical spoilers under the cut, plus a fair amount of DEH neg/crit

Instead of Anybody Have A Map, they just have Evan's mom say "Hey are you writing those letters to yourself? Also you should ask the kids to sign your cast" before he goes to school and sings Waving Through A Window. They ignore every other part of the song and quickly insert the only thing from the song that's absolutely needed to understand the story so Evan can go be angsty at school. We don't even meet the Murphys until they meet Evan in the principal's office to tell him about Connor.

Disclaimer part 2 electric boogaloo: I complain about Evan a lot here. It's not because I think his experiences aren't valid and it's not because I'm trying to demonize people with mental illnesses or something. I know that his own struggles influenced his bad decisions. That doesn't mean they weren't bad decisions. He still did shitty things and he wasn't justified (listen to Words Fail), but I know it was influenced by his mental health.

On with the complaining!

First of all, the movie opens with Waving Through A Window? It feels like they're putting the most popular song first as a desperate grab for your attention to convince you the movie is good and like... they really didn't need to do that. Waving Through A Window is right after Anybody Have A Map, it's not like anyone's gonna walk out of the theatre after one (really good) song.

Anybody Have A Map establishes a few things: it shows us that both of these families are struggling so that we know immediately that the Murphys' perfect facade is fake, it shows us that Connor was a dick to his family (this is very important), and obviously it tells us why Evan was writing letters to himself. It also introduces us to the two main families at the same time so we know this story isn't just about Evan.

By starting the movie with an Evan solo song instead of the group song, they frame Evan as the one main character, the only person whose perspective we need to understand. But Evan is incredibly flawed, just like everyone else, and by making us think the story is only about him, it immediately makes us (the audience) more inclined to believe that Evan is always in the right and less inclined to consider everyone else's side of the story. Evan is an incredibly unreliable narrator, he's always going to frame his actions as correct, or at least excusable, even when he's actively hurting/lying to other people.

All of the Murphys get introduced through interacting with Evan instead of interacting with each other. This makes it seem like the Murphys only exist for Evan, but the entire point of the climax is that everything doesn't exist just for Evan! Evan is not part of their family, he can't just use everyone around him for his own benefit, and all of the Murphys have lives outside of him. When they're introduced through Evan, they're introduced as existing for Evan. Anybody Have A Map introduces them separately from Evan instead of attached to him.

Without Anybody Have A Map, we never actually see Connor being mean to Zoe, so she just looks like an asshole for not being sad about her dead brother. To make up for it, she's constantly having to tell the audience why she hated him, tripping over herself to talk about all the shitty things he did to her because we don't have Anybody Have A Map to show us their interactions. Zoe ends up complaining about her brother the entire time, so when it gets to Only Us and she says that she doesn't want everything to be about her brother, it seems out of character for her.

And with the removal of Anybody Have A Map, we don't ever see Connor interact with his own family in the movie. Anybody Have A Map is the only time we get to see Connor with his family. It shows us that Connor really was an asshole to his family, it justifies Zoe hating him, and it gives his mom more dimensions by showing her struggling to keep her family together even with everyone fighting against her. Without that, the writers ended up ignoring the most basic piece of writing advice - "show, don't tell" - to fill in the missing information from the song.

In the movie, all we get of Cynthia Murphy is... her being sad about Connor and refusing to admit that he ever did anything wrong. She's just boring and annoying in the movie, but in the musical, we get that bit at the beginning that shows her as an actual person with actual motivations! By cutting Anybody Have A Map, they made her into a more one-dimensional character.

So in a bit of a conclusion: Anybody Have A Map establishes the Murphys as main characters separate from Evan and shows us Connor's relationship with his family instead of telling us about it. It sets the scene for the story before just jumping into "Evan is sad and alone uwu anxious depressed soft boy" and makes everyone a better, more three-dimensional character. Getting rid of it meant that they had to do backflips to justify everyone's decisions during the movie instead of setting everything up at the beginning.

I do think the movie could've benefitted from Disappear but then again, it could've benefitted from the whole "Connor being the visual/vocal representation of Evan's justifications for why keeping up the lie is helping people" thing in general, but they got rid of that so Disappear wouldn't have worked. (I am salty that they got rid of that thing but whatever) The Anonymous Ones worked instead and it was a good song, so sure, why not I guess? /neutral

I could also complain about how they got rid of To Break In A Glove, Disappear, and Good For You, but none of those decisions actually impacted the story too much. To Break In A Glove and Good For You both got replaced with some tell-not-show cutscenes that gave us the same information in a less interesting way (and Larry got less character development without To Break In A Glove), and Disappear got replaced with an Alana song which was honestly pretty good so i'm fine with that one.

Now for some good changes that the movie made!

The Anonymous Ones was a good song, I actually really liked that. I'm disappointed that they got rid of Disappear, but they replaced it with another song that served the same purpose while also giving Alana more screen time and character depth! And it was a genuinely good song, I really enjoyed it and it made me like Alana more!

I really liked the ending of the movie. In the musical, there are literally no negative consequences for Evan, Zoe even forgives him at the end. She fucking forgives him for lying to her entire family about their dead son and and taking advantage of them because it "brought them closer together". And the internet never finds out what he did! He does all this terrible shit, lies to the entire fucking world, and gets away scot-free. And he never learns anything real about Connor. The movie changes all of that.

Connor's song was also a great addition! Every time we saw Connor in the musical, he was either being a dick or he was a fantasy version of himself made by Evan and/or Jared. Seeing that Connor can, in fact, be a nice person, that Cynthia's belief in him wasn't misplaced, was so satisfying. He really was just a meaner version of Evan a troubled kid lashing out at the world in self-defense. He wasn't an entirely bad person.

The Murphys still decide not to tell anyone what he did, but then Evan decides (on his own!) that he needs to own up to what he did. He records a video of himself admitting to what he did, shifts all the blame to himself, and then goes out of his way to fix his mistakes in any way he can. He says that his biggest regret is not getting to know Connor while he had the chance, so he goes online to find anything he can. He reads Connor's favorite books, tries to find anyone who might be able to tell him what Connor was like, and when he receives a video of Connor playing his song in rehab, he takes the time to send the video (through the mail, on a flash drive) to the Murphys, Jared, and Alana.

Evan doesn't contact Zoe at the end, she contacts him instead. She doesn't forgive him, and he doesn't ask for forgiveness. He knows what he did was wrong and he owns up to it and tries to fix it as much as possible, knowing full well that it could ruin his life. He does the right thing for the first time in the entire fucking movie (that's hardly even an exaggeration) and it's such a good ending. It makes more sense and is more satisfying than the musical.

The Dear Evan Hansen movie was not nearly as bad as the reviews say it was. It wasn't as good as the musical, it had its own problems, but it also made some good changes that I think made the story better. It wasn't perfect, but I enjoyed it and most movies aren't perfect anyway. It really could've benefitted from Anybody Have A Map, though.

#the first draft of this took 50 minutes to write and it was on discord #then i spent a solid hour editing it while at work #please appreciate me /hj #pie.txt #dear evan hansen #dear evan hansen movie #dear evan hansen musical #dear evan hansen review #evan hansen #connor murphy #zoe murphy #cynthia murphy #larry mora #alana beck #i tagged a post for once now give me clout #/j /j

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maddiwrites · 3 years

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Family and Hope

Pairing: Routledge!Reader x JJ (Kinda)

Summary: A month after your brother disappeared, you’re confronted by someone you never thought you would see again, forcing you to come to terms with reality.

Note: I made this a reader x JJ pairing but the focus is more on the relationship with the person who’s introduced in this fic! Also if you haven't yet, go over to my page and read my OBX rewrite and let me know what you think (:

Word Count: 4.2k (Do I know how to write a short fic? No.)

You’ll never forget the day that Shoupe told you he and the FBI “lost” your brother. “Lost” them. Like they were a toddler’s toy that had just been misplaced. No one knew if they were dead or alive, but most made the conclusion that they were never coming back.

You were ultimately left with no family. After you dad disappeared, all you had was John B. And just like that, he was gone too. Your legal guardian, Ward Cameron, obviously threw you out. But it didn’t take much effort because you weren’t going to go back there anyway. See Ward, whether it be on the streets or on the Local News, nauseated you to no end. You knew he was the reason your dad and brother were gone. The greedy mother fucker would do anything to sit on the highest throne of success and fortune - even going as far as murder. And you knew this world well enough to know that he would never face the consequences of his actions. Because he’s wealthy with an outstanding reputation on this island. And if that wasn’t enough, people now felt sorry for him because his daughter was gone, and everyone blamed that on John B.

Although you were left with no blood relatives, you continue to be surprised by how far your real family would go for you. Mr. Heyward, although always disapproving of you and your friends’ antics, offered to take you in. He promised a roof over your head and food on the table until you turned eighteen so you wouldn’t have to experience foster care. You couldn’t be more grateful especially knowing that he already struggled to support his wife and only kid.

You tried your hardest to continue living your life as normal as possible. Most days, you pretended like your brother wasn’t even dead. He was just gone. On vacation. Living life. He was coming back. That’s what you told yourself, anyway. You sound like John B when your dad first disappeared. The police called you crazy. Your friends felt sorry for you. But you didn’t care. You weren’t going to give up hope.

Your boyfriend, JJ, tried his best to be supportive, but he was drowning in his own sorrow and grief. He lost his best friend too and truly believed he was never coming back. It was hard for him to get out of bed in the mornings. He was fired from his hotel job, and the couple of people who still let him mow his lawn barely talked to him. The beatings from his dad were worse than ever. Luke almost killed him when he heard it was The Phantom that had sunk. The only reason JJ is still breathing is because the police showed up after one of their neighbors called in for a noise complaint. Since the Chateau was no longer a safe escape - always being investigated by the police - he was stuck in his own home. Luckily, his dad was gone most days, which allowed you to sneak in every once in a while.

You brought him food and water whenever you could, always checking for Luke’s pick up truck before sneaking in through the window. Although you hated how depressed JJ was, it gave you something to focus on. Helping JJ with his every day tasks helped distract you from thinking about your own feelings about John B’s loss.

Even though it was hard to tell, JJ worried about you. You were running from his house, to Kie’s, to Pope’s, finding anyone and anything to avoid your own feelings about your brother. He was afraid that one of these days you were gonna break. And he was terrified because he didn’t know what would trigger that reaction.

~ ~ ~

“Oh, good. You’re up,” You crawled through JJ’s window and watched him sip on a PBR can as he looked for a shirt that didn’t smell completely awful. You forced a smile when JJ barely glanced at you and set the coffees and two granola bars on his night stand. “I know it’s not a lot, but it’s all I could afford right now.”

Kie’s father basically fired you from the Wreck, telling you nicely that you were scaring people away. At the end of the day, everyone on the island thought you helped a murderer escape. A murderer you were related to. So you’ve been working for Heyward behind the the counter, making less than minimum wage.

“Okay...” you drawled out. “Well, I have to get going. Heyward needs me their early, but maybe we can go somewhere tonight? Smoke on the beach or something? Just the two of us.”

JJ looked at you sadly, wanting to say something. But he thought maybe tonight would be better. You were in a good mood - a facade he knew you put on every day to avoid talking about your family. He hated seeing you cry, but he thought if he broke down your walls now, it would help you heal faster. Even if you thought you didn’t need to heal.

But instead, he just nodded and let you leave without saying “goodbye” or “I love you.” A phrase he hasn’t mentioned since John B disappeared.

You kissed him on the cheek and walked yourself out the front door, ignoring the crack in your heart when JJ turned away from you.

~ ~ ~

A couple hours later, JJ was waking up from another nap when Pope blew up his phone with missed calls and text messages. At first, he immediately thought of the worse possible case scenario. Something happened to you or maybe even Kie. He even let his mind wander to the possibility that they found John B’s body. But instead, what he read, only left him completely confused.

He rushed over to Heyward’s, hoping to beat you there.

~ ~ ~

Mr. Heyward didn’t know what to expect when his former friend showed up at his door. He was mixed with all different emotions. Relieved, confused, scared. Behind her was a man about his age. Tall, fair skinned, hair slicked back, and dressed in slacks and a button down shirt.

“Caroline....what are you doing here?”

“I hear my daughter is living with you now. I was hoping I’d be able to see her,” Your mother admitted, feeling sheepish and a little embarrassed. “May I come in?” Heyward told himself he should slam the door in her face and tell her to go back to wherever the hell she came from. She used to be his friend, then out of nowhere, she up and left her entire family behind, without another word to them or any of her friends. He was hurt and betrayed, and he knew if he was feeling this way, he could only imagine how you would feel.

But although Heyward loved you like his own, he felt wrong hiding your mother from you. It wasn’t his decision to make whether or not you got to confront her.

He opened the door wider for her and her husband, he assumed, to enter. Heyward ignored their judgmental gazes as they inspected his home and called out for his wife.

Mrs. Heyward stopped in her tracks when she caught a glimpse of the blonde hair she remembered so clearly. You were a spitting image of your mother. Long blonde hair, a button nose, and perfectly straight teeth. The one thing you didn’t get from her though was her selfish personality.

“What the hell are you doing here?” She seethed. Mrs. Heyward loved you like a daughter and felt protective when someone who hurt you so badly in the past came back.

“Honey...” Mr. Heyward placed a light hand on her shoulder to comfort her and then motioned for the two seats at their kitchen table for your mother and her husband to take.

“Y/N’s not here,” Mrs. Heyward glared.

“Anne, I know you don’t think I have any right to be here -”

“Right?”

“But she’s my daughter!” Your mother protested with tears in her eyes.

Your mother grew up on the Cut too, and just like you, she was able to charm her way into anything. A job, a relationship, a better test grade. There was a time when Caroline, John, Anne and Heyward would cause mischief in Kildare County. But unlike the rest of the group, she was always interested in getting out of the Outer Banks and starting a life somewhere else. She knew she was settling when she married John Routledge so the second a better opuurtunity came around, she didn’t hesitate to take it. Even if it mean’t leaving her family behind.

“Mom...” Pope walked out from the hallway and looked between Caroline and the man next to her who had his hand on her thigh. He never met Y/N and John B’s mother. Never even seen a picture of her. But looking at her, it was clear to him that this was their mother. You looked just like her, he thought.

“Pope, this is Caroline...” Heyward hesitated and looked at the woman for clarification.

“Bennett.” She confirmed and placed her hand on top of her husband’s, interlacing their fingers. “I’m Y/N’s mom.”

Pope noticed how she didn’t even mention John B. He wondered how cold a woman had to be to not even mention her dead son’s name.

“Go to your room, Pope,” His mother said softly.

Pope nodded and glanced one last time at Caroline and the man next to her before pulling his phone out of his back pocket and texting JJ. He knew Y/N wasn’t going to take well to the news that her mother was in town. All her life, he heard Y/N saying nothing but horrible things about the woman. You hated her.

He waited in his room until he heard the familiar revving of JJ’s bike outside his house. Pope ran to the front door before his father could push JJ away. JJ stormed into the house and stopped when he was face to face with the woman he’s grown to hate too. Just like you had with his mother.

“JJ -” Heyward stood up and approached the boy, but JJ flinched out of his grasp.

“You shouldn't be here,” JJ pointed at her.

“I- I’m sorry. Who -”

“This is JJ. Pope’s friend -” Anne tried explaining.

“And Y/N’s boyfriend, and I’m telling you right now, she won’t want to see you.”

Caroline nodded as if she understood where JJ was coming from. But Caroline was use to getting what she wanted. Now more than ever. And she wasn’t leaving OBX without seeing her daughter. Maybe even convincing her to come home with them.

“JJ -” Heyward tried to say again, but the room grew silent when the front door creaked open again, which only meant that you were home.

“Hey! Who’s car is out front? I’ve never seen...” You slowly came to a halt when you were met with Heyward, Anne, Pope, and JJ all staring at you with pity and concern. You laughed nervously. “What -” But then you saw her. The woman and her husband at the kitchen table as if they were here for a glass of wine and friendly conversation.

You recognized her mom immediately from old photographs your dad refused to throw away throughout the entirety of his life. You use to think she was beautiful. Sometimes, you were even jealous of how she was able to look amazing in every picture. Extremely photogenic.

You never thought about what you would do if you ever saw her again. You never thought the day would come where you would be face to face with the person you grew up hating more than the entire population of Kooks. But you stared into the same pale blue eyes you saw every time you looked in the mirror and your skin burned with rage.

“What the hell is this?” You looked at Heyward for some answers, ignoring her presence overall.

Heyward coughed awkwardly. “Caroline was hoping to speak with you.”

“About what?” Heyward glanced back at Caroline. He truly didn’t know why she was here. They hadn’t gotten there yet.

JJ stepped in front of you and pulled you in close so his mouth was next to your ear. “We can leave.”

“No,” You shook your head and stepped away from him to get a good look at your mother. “No. I want to know what you’re doing here. What makes you think I want to talk to you?”

“Sweetie, I know you have every right to hate me. But I come here in peace -” Your mother tried explaining, but you cut her off.

“Peace?” You scoffed. “Where the hell have you even been?” “Georgia,” She said. Your mouth dropped open in shock. She was only a couple states below you. “This is Byron, my husband.” You clenched your teeth together and held your stare on the two of them. You didn’t know who you hated more. Your mother or the man who took her away from you. Your mother sighed and looked down at her intertwined fingers with her husband. “I heard about your brother on the News.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” You rolled your eyes. She sounded more like a sympathetic neighbor than a mourning mother. She talked about John B as if he wasn’t her blood too.

“I came here as soon as I could -”

“That was a month ago!” You raised your voice.

“I know,” Your mother choked, starting to get flustered. “I got caught up with work and -” It’s been a while since someone put her in her place.

“Work? You knew about John B and you cared more about your work? What the hell do you even do, Martha Stewart?”

“Y/N...” Anne said softly, pulling you out of your dark head and reminding you to take a breath. Anne didn’t like her either, but all this yelling wouldn’t get either of you anywhere.

“Fine,” You took the seat across the table from Caroline and leaned back on it with your arms crossed in front of your chest. “Your here now. So tell me what for. We’re not having a funeral for John B. Not until I see a body.”

Caroline looked at her husband for some sort of encouragement. Although he was unsure now more than ever, Byron subtly nodded his head for his wife to tell her daughter the reason they came up here. “Byron and I...we want you to come home.”

“Home?” You cocked a brow.

“With us,” Byron added.

You couldn’t help but chuckle - really belly laugh at what you were hearing. You couldn’t believe the ridiculous suggestion she made. You were astounded that she even thought you would agree.

“We’ve seen the News and read the papers. I mean the stuff you kids have been through -”

“That’s enough,” You stood up.

“We have a beautiful home. You’d have your own room, a pool in the backyard. We even have two other daughters! Ten and seven. They’re excited to meet you.”

You tried your best to ignore her as you grabbed JJ’s arm to pull him out with you. But everything she said was like a ringing in your ears you couldn’t escape. Little did Caroline know, each luxury she threw at you felt like a stab in the back.

“I’m outta here -”

“Y/N Y/M/N Routledge! I am your mother!” Caroline stood up, her chair screeching against the hardwood. She slapped her palm against the wooden table and narrowed her eyes at her daughter. In her own head, she couldn’t believe how ungrateful you were. She was offering you a new and better life - one that wouldn’t make you dress like your entire wardrobe was from the thrift store, or sleep on your friend’s couch, or be looked at every day as a criminal. She was offering you a new beginning with the only blood relative you had left and you were gonna turn your back on her?

You swiveled on your heels so fast that your head started spinning. Your vision clouded with the color red and your fists clenched against your side. You glared at the woman who gave birth to you - hating how she acted as if she knew what was best for you when she didn’t even know you at all.

“I don’t have a mother!” You screamed. “She turned her back on us when we were three! I don’t even know you. The only reason I recognized you is because my dad kept pictures of you in frames in his office.” Tears pricked at your eyes and you shook your head. “And I felt sorry for him that he still held onto memories of the woman who seemed so useless.”

Your voice cracked and you hated that you sounded so weak. You wondered what John B would say if he was standing next to you right now. He’d probably be more calm. He’d probably listen to what your mother had to offer and then kindly tell her that the two of you were better off without her. John B use to always keep you grounded. He calmed you down when you were on a rampage or feeling panicked. He taught you reason and discipline. Without him, you had none of that.

“You left,” You continued. “You turned your back on us when we were three. And Dad? He had no idea what he was doing. The man could barely hold a job let alone two kids. But unlike you, he did it. Hell, he even bought me my first box of tampons! He held me through my first heartbreak and taught me how to surf. And just like that,” You snapped your fingers, “he was gone. And you, my so-called mother, still didn’t show up. So John B and I...we became our own parent. We paid the bills, worked our asses off to pay the rent, and passed our classes. I learned to fend for myself because you weren’t there! You didn’t do shit for our family.” You pointed to yourself. “I did. I took care of us.”

“That’s not fair...” Your mother’s voice shook. She couldn’t even look at you as she became so overwhelmed with shame and guilt.

“Not fair?” You bent down so you were eye level with her and looked at her like she had just grown two heads. “You just listed off all the amazing luxuries you have while I was left with absolutely nothing and you want to talk about what is fair?”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Bryon stepped in and stood up from his seat, placing a hand on your mother’s shoulder to try to comfort her.

“No, I’m just getting started,” You glared at him. “And I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but this is between me and her. And I know she grew up on the Cut and is more than capable of fighting her own battles.” You averted your attention back to your mother. “You don’t get to waltz into my life over ten years later and pretend like nothing’s happened. My dad’s dead and my brother probably is too! I have no one left, but the family right here.” You point to the people behind you. Mr and Mrs Heyward, Pope, and JJ. “And I’ll choose these people over you every single time. So no. You’re not my mother.” You looked her up and down. “You’re nothing to me.”

You spun around on your heels and grabbed your back pack on the way out.

“Y/N...” Mrs. Heyward tried calling out to you, but no one really tried to stop you. They knew you needed to get out from under the same roof as your mother, the woman behind all your anger.

“I got her...” JJ told the Heyward family quietly. He glanced at Pope, who nodded once at him, before walking out of the house to find you. Only you were already gone and your bike was missing.

Your feet moved faster than your head. You didn’t know where you were going, you just knew you had to get as far away from that woman as possible. Your tears made your vision all blurry and your brain pounded against your skull. Your throat felt like sandpaper with every heavy breath you took.

You practically fell off your bike in front of the one place you had been avoiding for weeks. It looked just like how you had left it, only now it was wrapped in yellow caution tape. Shockingly, no one was here. No police, FBI, or any other government official. It was just you and your thoughts.

You pulled the squeaky porch door open and were immediately flooded with memories. Empty beer cans and the butt of old cigarettes and blunts littered the floor like you were all lounging here yesterday. Guess CSI doesn’t hire a clean up crew when they are done.

You took another step into your house. Your brother’s room was to your right, his door open, enticing you to go in. But you couldn’t. Your heart twisted in your chest at the thought of John B. He should have been here. He should have never left! How could he? He was your brother. Your older brother, even if it was only by a few minutes. He was supposed to protect you. He was supposed to scare off all the boys who showed interest in you, yell at you when you’re bathing suit showed too much skin, take care of you when you were sick, help you with your homework, be the cool uncle to your kids one day. And he was gone. Everyone was gone!

You didn’t remember how it happened, but you were in your dad’s office. This place use to be a mystery to you - a room where your Dad hid most of the time and locked when he wasn’t home. You always wondered what was so special about this room. Now you knew it was nothing. It was a curse. This room was the reason your dad and brother were gone.

A screech ripped from your throat as your swept your arms across your father’s desk. Everything on top, papers, paper weights, pens, folders, all clattered to the floor. With all your strength, you flipped the desk over on its side. The wooden floor rumbled under your feet when it fell with a bang.

Your breath hitched in your throat and you felt like you couldn't breathe. You stepped back until your back hit the wall. Your fingers raked through the hair near your scalp and you pulled on the roots. You body slid down the wall until you were on the ground. You cried into your knees, weeping for your brother and dad. You have never felt pain like this before. You were physically healthy but it felt like someone took a vacuum into your body and was sucking the life out of you.

You didn’t even hear anyone else come into the house over your loud sobs. It wasn’t until you felt arms wrap around you that you looked up. JJ pulled you into his chest, curling you so that your body fit perfectly against his. He whispered against your head and kissed it after every sentence. He told you it was going to be okay.

“He can’t be gone,” You cried into JJ’s shoulder. “It’s not fair!”

“I know,” JJ mumbled against your hair and pulled you in tighter. “I know. I’m sorry.” He felt like the worst boyfriend ever. He knew this day would come and he took advantage of you avoiding your own grief by drowning in his own. He should have been taking care of you, making you open up about your brother so that it didn’t all hit you at once like it did now.

“I have no one.”

“No,” JJ shook his head. “That’s not true. You have me. Pope and Kie, we’re all going to be here for you. And screw your mom. You don’t need her anyway.”

For a split second, you forgot about your mom and how she wanted to take you back to Georgia. But you knew she wasn’t your real family. Not anymore. You were right when you said you had all the family you needed. The Heywards, Pope, Kie, JJ. You weren’t alone. You still had them.

“I’m sorry,” JJ said again. “I should have - I should have done something. I should have been there for you -”

“It’s okay,” You placed your hand delicately under his jaw to make him look at you. “You’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

“I love you.” Your heart swelled, forgetting the way those three words made you feel. Safe, loved, comforted. “And if John B’s out there, he’s going to come back.” JJ remembered the promise John B made him swear by before he left with the Phantom. How he made JJ promise to protect you no matter what. Even if you were to go through a nasty break up. He was supposed to be there for you. “There’s still hope.”

“Hope,” You repeated, tasting the word on your tongue. You still had hope.

382 notes · View notes

theartofdreaming1 · 3 years

Photo

Slightly paraphrased, but Peeta talking about that moment he developed his crush on Katniss is just too sweet 😊

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and random thoughts on chapters 22-24 are below the cut (sprinkled in some psychology thoughts again).

heart

Honestly, I think the people in Panem would perceive the whole everlark storyline the same way we perceive and react to our ships on tv (desperately wanting to reach through the screen, shoving the characters forcefully together, screaming “And now, kiss!”); especially the Capitolites who barely recognize the tributes (or people in the districts, in general) as people. The people in the districts would definitely view the whole thing more under a “reality tv” kind of lens, questioning how much of the relationship is real or not (we know that Finnick certainly thought that the entire thing was just a spiel, until Peeta hit that forcefield). The time spent in the cave must have been pretty convincing, though.

mind

I think that Katniss is still torn here - On the one hand, she kind of wants to believe that Peeta is actually into her (remember the happiness she felt when Peeta told her how his crush on her began, and it all added up and seemed so real), but on the other hand she’s terrified of that possibility because A) lingering trauma from her mom’s depression in response the Mr. Everdeen’s death, B) Katniss never even considered falling in love, so that’s a sudden unexpected thing to deal with, and C) maybe it’s just for the sake of the Games; and wouldn’t that hurt, getting your hopes up only to learn it was only for show? (How about we ask Peeta about that?)

soul

Yeah, that quote about Peeta only eating stale bread also struck me as quite sad. It just further adds to his understanding how there should be more to life than just survival, though. (One day, I’ll make that post about Peeta, Katniss, and Maslow’s pyramid of needs, I swear! I’ve already gathered some research material)

Chapter 22

My mother’s hand strokes my cheek and I don’t push it away as I would in wakefulness, never wanting her to know how much I crave that gentle touch. How much I miss her even though I still don’t trust her. - Ugh, I can’t... Katniss misses her mom, misses being cared for😢 I’m so glad we’re going to see her patch up her relationship with her mom in CF... On a different note, Katniss craving that gentle touch just perfectly illustrates why she’s so drawn to Peeta, who is generally such a gentle soul (I mean, he’s literally the person stroking her cheek here 😊)

He [Peeta] doesn’t seem angry about my tricking him, drugging him, and running off to the feast. Maybe I’m just too beat-up and I’ll hear about it later when I’m stronger. But for the moment, he’s all gentleness. - As I was saying... 😉

“I’ll go hunting soon,” I say. “Not too soon, all right?” he says. “You just let me take care of you for a while.” - I love them so much😊🥰 And then Peeta makes sure she’s well-fed and hydrated, he rubs her cold feet and tucks her into the sleeping back... and she let’s him! 💗

“He [Thresh] let you go because he didn’t want to owe you anything?” asks Peeta in disbelief. “Yes. I don’t expect you to understand it. You’ve always had enough. But if you’d lived in the Seam, I wouldn’t have to explain,” I say. “And don’t try. Obviously I’m too dim to get it,” he says. - Oof. This exchange here is interesting in many ways: 1) it highlights their different experiences, tied to their different socioeconomic backgrounds, basically, and 2) that Katniss is very much aware of this difference, but we also see hints of her own ignorance here - because Peeta didn’t have to starve in his childhood, she thinks that he can’t possibly understand this level of hardship; but there are other ways in which one can suffer/lack fundamental needs, which brings us to 3) Peeta’s response about being “obviously too dim to get it”; I think this is a clue to his mom being also verbally abusive towards him: she called him “stupid creature” when he burnt those loaves of bread for Katniss and when he’s losing it in the attic of the Justice Building in D11 in CF he is mad that Katniss and Haymitch keep things from him “like [he’s] too inconsequential or stupid or weak to handle them”, which - to me - sounds like he’s tired of being treated that way (i.e. the way his mother treats him)

“I want to go home, Peeta,” I say plaintively, like a a small child. - God, this is a teenager in a murder-arena who feels like wanting to go home is a childish notion instead of a totally legitimate wish for anyone in that situation, regardless of age 😢

It’s not that Peeta’s soft exactly, and he’s proved he’s not a coward. But there are things you don’t question too much, I guess, when your home always smells like baking bread, whereas Gale questions everything. What would Peeta think of the irreverent banter that passes between us as we break the law each day? Would it shock him? The things we say about Panem? Gale’s tirades against the Capitol? - Geez, Katniss, give Peeta some credit here! A) It’s not like Peeta can walk around District 12 talking publicly about the injustices happening there - she and Peeta hadn’t even talked with each other before the reaping, whereas Gale is her best friend who rants to her while they are outside the confines of D12 and B) Peeta is literally the one who introduced the whole “not a piece in their Games”-idea to her; why would he be clutching his pearls over Katniss and Gale’s irreverent banter?! Just because Peeta didn’t live on the brink of starvation (she again brings up how his house smells like bread and - at this point - still thinks that the family running the bakery actually gets to eat what they produce just like that), doesn’t mean he doesn’t see how shitty life in D12 is - he can still want better conditions for those who are worse off than him!

“I did do the right thing,” I say. “No! Just don’t, Katniss!” His grip tightens, hurting my hand, and there’s real anger in his voice. “Don’t die for me. You won’t be doing me any favors. All right?” - Well, we’ll see this song and dance again in CF...

And while I was talking, the idea of actually losing Peeta hit me again and I realized how much I don’t want him to die. [...] And it’s not about what will happen back home. And it’s not just that I don’t want to be alone. It’s him. I do not want to lose the boy with the bread.” - I wish CF Katniss would remember this moment when she is questioning her motives about saving Peeta’s life in the arena - You. Care. For. This. Boy! You. Value. Him. For. Who. He. Is!!!

This is the first kiss that we’re both fully aware of. [...] This is the first kiss where I actually feel stirring inside my chest. Warm and curious. This is the first kiss that makes me want another. - Whoo! Is it hot in here or is it just me? 😉

I’m struck by his immediacy now. As we settle in, he pulls my head down to use his arm as a pillow; the other rests protectively over me even when he goes to sleep. No one has held me like this in such a long time. Since my father died and I stopped trusting my mother, no one else’s arms have made me feel this safe. - He makes her feel safe in a murder-arena!!! 😭 This is the kind of stuff that makes everlark just a top tier romance, tbh

Peeta telling Katniss about his crush starting on their first day of school 🥰😭 - and her reaction to it... For a moment, I’m almost foolishly happy - yes, because you have a crush on him, too! - and then confusion sweeps over me. Because we’re supposed to be making up this stuff [...] So, if those details are true... could it all be true? - YESSSSSSSS!!!

“You have a... remarkable memory, “ I say haltingly. - as a severely socially awkward person... I felt that lame response in my bones 😅

“You don’t have much competition anywhere.” And this time, it’s me who leans in. - God, this would be such an amazing moment if it didn’t get tainted by that immediate sponsor gift, which just serves to muddle Katniss’s feelings with her sense of survival, further complicating her relationship with Peeta... *sigh*

Chapter 23

“What was that you were saying just before the food arrived? Something about me... no competition... best thing that ever happened to you...” “I don’t remember that last part,” I say, hoping it’s too dim in here for the cameras to pick up my blush. “Oh, that’s right. That’s what I was thinking,” he says. - Peeta is the master of being a cheeky little shit and adorable flirt at the same time

“So, since we were five, you never even noticed any other girls?” I ask him. “No, I noticed just about every girl, but none of them made a lasting impression but you,” he says. - I appreciate that while Peeta has had a crush on Katniss forever, he clearly didn’t spend the entire time pining after her, oblivious to the rest of the world - he has a life outside of Katniss Everdeen, but ultimately, it all lead back to her

A disturbing thought hits me. “But then, our only neighbor will be Haymitch!” “Ah, that’ll be nice,” says Peeta, tightening his arms around me. “You and me and Haymitch. Very cozy. Picnics, birthdays, long winter nights around the fire retelling old Hunger Games tales.” “I told you, he hates me!” I say, but I can’t help laughing at the image of Haymitch becoming my new pal. - Laugh all you want, this is going to end up being your future anyway 😄

He [Haymitch]’s at something of a disadvantage because most mentors have a partner, another victor to help them whereas Haymitch has to bready to go into action at any moment. Kind of like me when I was alone in the arena. I wonder how he’s holding up, with the drinking, the attention, and the stress of tring to keep us alive. - Katniss is already worrying about her “new pal”, I see ;)

Maybe he [Haymitch] wasn’t always a drunk. Maybe, in the beginning, he tried to help the tributes. But then it got unbearable. It must be hell to mentor two kids and then watch them die. - Honestly, that sounds absolutely awful...

Poor, Katniss, when she learns of Thresh’s death :( - But no one will understand my sorrow at Thresh’s murder. - It’s horrible how compassion and basic human decency gets construed as ‘weakness’ in the world of Hunger Games (esp. the Capitol)

Then I escape into sleep, comforted by a full belly and the steady warmth of Peeta beside me. - Honestly, I think a word analysis of THG-series could be interesting; how often does Katniss mention “warmth”, “steady/steadiness” “safe/safety/security” in connection with “Peeta”?

“We make a goat cheese and apple tart at the bakery,” he says. “Bet that’s expensive,” I say. “Too expensive for my family to eat. Unless it’s gone very stale. Of course, practically everything we eat is stale,” says Peeta [...] Huh. I always assumed the shopkeepers live a soft life. And it’s true, Peeta has always had enough to eat. But there’s something kind of depressing about living your life on stale bread - Katniss is starting to realize that the lives of the merchants isn’t a cushy as she thought; also, in a way, we see a “prettier” version of how Panem treats the districts overall -> feeding the districts just enough that they can do their work (plus/minus a couple of people who’ll die of starvation, but at a small, for Capitolites insignificant margin), but not so much that they are in good shape to rebel; here, the merchants of D12 have just enough that they can live a “decent” life (they know it could be worse -> the Seam), but they don’t have enough to live a free, comfortable, self-determined life either. This also just further drives a wedge between the inhabitants of D12 (the merchants won’t want to rebel because they don’t want to get ‘demoted’ in their lifestyle, starving like the people from the Seam, and the Seam folk feel resentful towards the merchant people, while also not having the resources to rebel, due to their awful socioeconomic conditions)

What would be my life like on a daily basis? Most of it has been consumed with the acquisition of food. Take that away and I’m not really sure who I am, what my identity is. - It’s so sad who Katniss has been so consumed with ensuring that her most base needs are fulfilled that she barely has had the time to really figure out who she is and what she wants from life (If we’re talking Maslow’s pyramid of needs, Katniss would primarily be stuck on the lowest tier 😢)

At least, we’ll be friends, I think. Nothing will change the fact that we’ve saved each other’s lives in here. And beyond that, he will always be the boy with the bread. Good friends. - Honestly, Katniss counting on being good friends with Peeta after the Games is the highest honor she can bestow on him at that moment (she’s so into him, lol); of course, knowing that their relationship is going to be a bit rocky once they’ve come back makes this thought a little sad... but we also know they’ll make up (and out ;) in the future

Peeta licking his plate and blowing a kiss out to Effie is such an adorable goofball-moment 😊

I cover his mouth with my hand, but I’m laughing. “Stop! Cato could be right outside our cave.” He grabs my hand away. “What do I care? I’ve got you to protect me now,” says Peeta, pulling me to him. - This moment would be so cute (also, Peeta’s so confident in Katniss’s skills to protect him, which is adorable - toxic masculinity who?) but... Ugh, he’s just so giddy here, it kind of breaks my heart for when he learns later that (at least some) of Katniss’s reactions were just for show

“If we want food, we better head back up to my old hunting grounds,” I say. “Your call, Just tell me what you need me to do,” Peeta says. - Love how Peeta’s always ready to follow Katniss’s lead :)

Ideally, I’d dump Peeta now with some simple root-gathering chore and go hunt [...] “Katniss,” he says. “We need to split up. I know I’m chasing away the game.” [...] “Show me some plants to gather and that way we’ll both be useful.” - Teamwork! If it weren’t for Katniss worrying for Peeta’s safety, they’d be on the same page here

“What if you climbed up in a tree and acted as a lookout while I haunted?” I say, trying to make it sound like very important work. “What if you show me what’s edible around here and go get us some meat?” he says, mimicking my tone. - I really like how Peeta’s challenges Katniss here; he doesn’t just go along with everything she says, while still being quite reasonable

I feel like I’m eleven, again, tethered not to the safety of the fence but to Peeta, allowing myself twenty, maybe thirty yards of hunting space. [...] I allow myself to drift farther away, and soon have two rabbits and a fat squirrel to show for it. - I don’t know, but Katniss feeling tethered to Peeta makes me think of Mary Ainsworth’s attachment theory, according to which children with a secure attachment to their primary caregiver use their “attachment figure as a safe base to explore the environment”... Of course, Ainsworth’s Strange Situation was conducted with young children, but attachment styles are supposed to influence the relationships we form with people in our later lives as well (including romantic relationships)... I dunno, just a random association that popped into my brain 😅

Chapter 24

Peeta’s a whiz with fires, coaxing a blaze out of the damp wood. - Heh, Peeta sure knows how to handle fire, huh, Katniss (or should I say: Girl on Fire?) 😏

I order him into the sleeping bag and set aside the rest of his food for him when he wakes. He drops off immediately. I pull the sleeping bag up to his chin and kiss his forehead, not for the audience, but for me. Because I’m so greateful that he’s still here, not dead by the stream as I’d thought. - Aww, this is so sweet (and domestic)!

It’s funny. I feel almost as if it’s the first day of the Games again. That I’m in the same position. [...] But no, there’s the boy waiting beside me. I feel his arms wrap around me. - They are a team! Katniss doesn’t have to face the horrors of the Games alone anymore! It keeps boiling down to this.

#thgagain #thg #hunger games #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #thg meta #my sketches and drawings #everlark

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darthmaulification · 3 years

Text

you’re somebody else | din x reader

A/N: ahahaha i couldn’t stop getting drawn to this prompt on the list, and since it hasn’t been requested yet i wrote it for me. 💀💀 i’m actually really happy with how this turned out too. 😳

after writing this, the tone/vibe reminded me of a short story i read in my fear and fiction class in high school called Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been? by Joyce Carol Oates which was basically a psychological horror that i want to spoil nothing of, so i implore y’all to read it because i’ve linked a pdf here. 🙏😈

(title is flora cash’s song of the same name which i listened to repeatedly while writing this fic.)

hope you enjoy! 💗

prompt: 10. “who have you become? i don’t know you anymore.”

content: this just might be the darkest thing i’ve ever written, dark!din, haunted!din, tbh the darksaber is a warning all on it’s own, gn!reader, depression, very bad mental spiral (that’s made worse by a semi-supernatural force), implied that din verbally lashes out at reader, kinda a character study, implied Very Bad Things enacted by din 😬

word count: 936

At first, it started slow.

Din passed Grogu over to the Jedi, teary-eyed and breaking, and watched as the elevator doors slid shut like eyelids closing when all the life’s been drawn from the body. The helmet went back on and the mask did too, but no one said anything about that then, not while Cara and Fennec shared smirks at a job well done, not while Bo-Katan silently yearned for the Darksaber in Din’s hand.

Grief took hold next. It filled Din like water poured into a pitcher, until he was only hours of quiet weeping, long sleepless nights, and louder stretches of screaming and punching that left him with a raw throat and gashes on his knuckles. Grief replaced everything then, it replaced time, food, rest, and everything that was Din.

You took the brunt of what was left of Din in the months directly after, painfully accepted everything the angry, broken, sad Mandalorian threw at you by always responding with an “It’s okay, Din” or a “You didn’t mean it”. You rolled with the punches as they landed, told yourself to be patient and considerate, reasoned that Din was hurt, and hurt people hurt people.

In those early months, the sting of Din’s vitriolic words would fade easily, like lemon juice on parchment, which didn’t really make it okay, but it was bearable. Forgivable.

But those were the early months.

In retrospect, you blame two major players for what happened:

One, yourself. You had every single opportunity to stop it while you were ahead, but you were either too unobservant or ignorant to see what was really happening, or (if you’re kinder to yourself) you were also grieving so maybe it wasn’t all too much of a surprise to miss a few things when your heart was also trampled on the floor. And as much as everyone else tells you “It wasn’t your fault” and “No one saw it coming”, you know damn well the red flags were waved in your face time and time again.

It makes you angry, it makes you guilty, it makes you weep.

It all comes down to the second variable:

The Darksaber. It was never a good thing. It was always some ancient evil, fueled by all the blood it’s shed and all the lives it’s taken, masked by the façade (lie) that it made warriors into kings, made verd into Mand’alor. It spoke the tongue of a wronged, hurting people, because there is no other way to ensure absolute control quite like telling white lies and half-truths in all the anger of a Mandalorian.

So it laid it’s seeds in Din the moment it passed from Moff Gideon’s hand.

You didn’t notice then, but Din’s hand held the Darksaber tighter than any of his other weapons.

Months after Grogu is when you started explaining away the shift in Din, how he became different. You excused his gloominess for melancholy. (Din would get this faraway look in his eyes, like he was remembering something terrible.) Told yourself it was part of the healing process that he was angrier, it just made him more... violent than he’d normally be on hunts. (Din beat his bounties to gurgling, bloody pulps.) You would pretend to sleep when he sat awake at night for hours at end just listening to him speak in low Mando’a. (Din was speaking to the Darksaber. It would speak back.)

“Din isn’t dark”, you’d convince yourself when you knew he had done or said something cruel, something heinous, “He’s just upset”.

And it’s true, Din was upset. But not like you thought he was.

It all came crashing down one night, when you started to feel like you could recognize Din anymore.

He was soaked in blood, splattered with it like a child’s painting across his cuirass, his hands completely crimson. (”Din, what happened?”)

The helmet spoke to you first, then it was lifted to reveal a face you that wasn’t his face, not anymore, because that face looked pleased with the murderous handiwork, and those lips spoke your name in an unfamiliar voice, and oh my Maker, Din, the smile didn’t reach your eyes.

They weren’t his anymore.

“Who have you become?” You ask, voice trembling and you can’t stop the cold shiver that goes up your spine, or how your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach, and it makes you focus on the queasiness there and the metallic tang of blood. Din doesn’t say anything, but he gets that faraway look on his face, somehow both coldly distant and shockingly precise, and it terrifies you more than anything ever has. The world stops, Din stares, the Darksaber rests in his hand.

“Cyare, I don’t know what you mean.” He replies and it’s not Din’s voice you hear. It’s lost the gentle timbre, no longer rumbles from his throat like rhythmic white cap waves to a shoreline, no longer the voice that you would hear in loving secrecy, when it was you and Din beneath the sheets, when the night was your sanctuary. No, you no longer hear Din’s voice.

“... I don’t know you anymore.” The whisper hangs in the air like a body from a tree, all dreadful and sickening. The room constricts and falls away, the walls crumbling to the black void of shadows that line the corners and curves of the stranger you once knew, the lover you’ve lost like a childhood toy to the wilderness.

“I don’t know you anymore.” You repeat, staring at the man in front of you, oh what is his name?

What is his name?

#star wars #the mandalorian #star wars din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #writing prompts #angst prompts #would it be embarrassing if i drew fanart for this?#my own fan fanfiction?? 💀💀#because i realllyyyy want to

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astridthevalkyrie · 3 years

Text

summer rain: chapter 4

Your days in the Training Corp aren’t too out of the ordinary. You make friends, you train hard, and you eat dinner every day.

Oh, and you’re also hellbent on getting revenge against Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.

Chapter 3, Chapter 5

i have finally found the two perfect songs for this series and that’s everytime by chen & punch and talk love by k. will so go give those a listen because damn if it isn’t these two idiots.

anyways, enjoy the chapter!

Nothing is right anymore, and yet people are so quick to adapt to any sense of normalcy they can. It’s marveling to watch how, in two measly days, the refugees have quieted down and stopped fighting for food. Stopped fighting, period. Now they seek comfort in one another, a sense of camaraderie in knowing that they’ve all gone through the same thing. And holy hells are there a lot of them.

Because soon after Shiganshina was torn through because of the monster they were calling the Colossal Titan, Wall Maria itself fell. Ploughed straight through by something called the Armored Titan as though it was made of feathers. The refugees here are safe - for now - but there are countless of people who weren’t lucky enough to get behind Wall Rose, and they’re out there dying right about now. No one knows if Rose is going to hold either. No one knows anything. So with the kinsmanship comes a heavy pretense of safety, in which everyone ignores how scared they are in favor of counting themselves lucky that they get to live even a single day longer.

You’re doing what you can. Obeying orders without so much as a single complaint. Of course all rations are to be given to the refugees, so you’ve only had one eighth of a potato in the past twenty four hours, but it’s better than nothing. For once, you can’t find any fault with your situation, because no matter how terrible or hungry or scared you’re feeling, there is undoubtedly someone feeling worse.

Such as Ricky.

His mother and old sister managed to get to the boats. His father and younger sister weren’t so lucky.

The two of you had been stationed inside the base together, to watch and hand out resources to the refugees, but you’d immediately taken full responsibility and told Ricky to stay with his family. He’d pulled you into a bone-crushing hug and ran off, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Unfortunately, they’re pretty unpleasant.

Captain Erwin Smith is famed for bringing home soldiers who are still alive. That and Levi’s raw skill with his ODM gear makes you hopeful enough that he’s alive, so you try not to think of him. Frankly, it’s selfish to worry about a single person when there’s so many people at risk, so you bury the troublesome thoughts and focus on your job.

The Garrison has done a good enough job with the resources they have, but the Military Police’s presence is aggravating more than anything. They’re here to keep order, not to keep people safe, and everyone knows it. You wonder if your mother would prefer if you joined with these bastards instead of the choice you’ve made for yourself.

There you go again, being selfish. It’s always been about your life, and your absolute disdain for boredom. Out there, good people are laying down their lives. And you? You enlisted in the Training Corp as some form of self-fulfillment. It’s the first time you’re feeling this overwhelming guilt, as you realize just how ignorant your point of view is. You’ve never even so much as seen a titan, and yet you fancy yourself a soldier.

What a stupid girl you’ve been.

A tug on your uniform makes you snap out of your thoughts, and you look down to see a small girl with black hair wrapped in a scarf that’s too big on her. You blink, and try your best to smile reassuringly.

“Hey. You need something?”

The girl’s voice is quiet, soft, as though she’s trying her best not to be a bother. “They said you were giving out blankets here. May I have four of them, please?”

You nod, leaning down to check the crate by your feet. Unfortunately, you’d been swarmed by people asking for blankets just a few minutes earlier, and you’re just one short of how many the girl needs.

“I only have three left,” you begin apologetically, biting your lip, “but wait here, I’ll go check with someone else.” But you know that’ll be pointless, all the other stations have probably run out too, and if they haven’t, they’re saving for themselves. Calling them out won’t make them give it to you, that much is for sure.

Even the little girl seems to know that much. She shakes her head, taking the three blankets you offer her. “It’s alright. Three is enough. I’ll give them to the others.”

You frown. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter much. But you know that you would hardly be so selfless in the same situation. Hell, you would have wanted two blankets to yourself - these thin sheets are only going to do the bare minimum to keep people warm. The girl piques your curiosity.

“What’s your name?”

She hesitates for a second, then says, “Mikasa.”

You hum as though you’re thinking about it. “Pretty name. Who are the blankets for?”

She smiles faintly at the compliment. “My friends, Eren and Armin, and Armin’s grandpa.”

Not her parents. Your heart breaks for her. You’re not going to pry, the girl has probably seen enough, but you admire her maturity and willingness to spend the nights cold. It must take a lot to love some people so dearly that one would give up basic comfort. To risk getting sick, which, given the circumstances, may just be a death sentence. Yes, that kind of love is truly special, and you wonder if you’ll ever love someone that much.

You want to be a little selfless, too.

“Here.” You shrug off your uniform jacket, draping it over her shoulders. “I know it’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”

Mikasa’s eyes widen. “But don’t you need it, ma’am?”

“Eh. They can make me another one.” You shrug. “Besides, to tell you the truth, orange isn’t really my color.”

Her eyes shine tiredly at the unexpected kindness. “Thank you.”

You watch her run off, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. One person helped, out of thousands. It shouldn’t matter - you’re probably never going to see that girl again, you wouldn’t even know if the dumb uniform would do her any good. But there’s a part of you that can rest just a bit easier now, knowing that a child won’t be completely exposed to the harsh winter coming in. If the conditions of Wall Rose are anything to go by, you know that the refugees will be put to work in the fields very soon. It’s going to be a cold season indeed.

There’s been no time to process anything, which you’re almost grateful for. If you stop to think about the effect this is going to have on the fate of humankind, you might scream. There’s too much to think about, and there may be no time to think about it if things get even worse. For now, all you can do is try to help as many people as you can.

As Grumman always tries to drill into your head, it’s about dedicating your heart.

____________________

The new base and training areas are nice. That’s about all you can say for them. Losing the old one was akin to losing your home, and you know your comrades feel the same way, considering how awkward and depressing the shift has been. It feels stupid to start training again like the world hasn’t gone to shit, but you suppose it’s more necessary now than ever.

Everyone’s usual hijinks have stopped. Ophelia doesn’t cross her eyes and make faces whenever Grumman turns his back. Gunther’s habit of making finger guns every time he successfully slices a cardboard titan’s neck has ceased to exist. Even Traute, never one for jokes, seems even more morose and serious than usual. Everyone feels the loss keenly.

Ricky’s gone silent.

You don’t know how many people everyone has lost, and the worst feeling you’ve ever experienced is the relief that you haven’t lost anyone. It’s an ugly impulsive thought, but it trumps all the others in your head. Just overwhelming, horrible comfort.

It gets even worse when the Scouts return, almost three weeks later. There’s no cheers and hollers this time. Each and every single one of them is drenched in guilt and shame along with the blood coating their capes. Titan blood evaporates, you realize with a deep shudder.

The commander carries the same pain as the rest of them. Already, there’s been whispers of Commander Erwin, murmurs that Shadis is losing his touch and a younger, more clever man is needed. You don’t see how it matters who leads - titans are fucking titans, and they certainly don’t care. There’s no tactics that will make them stop being giant man-eating monsters.

You’ve been waiting for days to see Levi, but when you finally make him out, you quickly look away. The horrifying relief blooms in your chest again, and you curse and bless the circumstances that have brought you here. So he’s alive. So the constant anxiousness that has kept you up these last few nights is soothed. So what? Not everyone is as lucky as you. Things will never, ever go back to normal. You have no right to be happy about this.

When you glance at him again, you suck in a sharp breath when you see he’s gazing right back at you. There’s no brightness in his eyes, the rare spark that you’d seen in the moments the two of you shared is long gone. It seems like it was centuries ago. He’s seen too much. They all have.

There’s a question he seems to be asking you, but you have no idea what it is. You want to walk up to him, but a heavy force keeps your feet planted right where they are. All you can do is give him a confused expression, brows furrowed. It’s not like you’re telepathic. If he wants to ask you something, he’ll have to actually ask you.

But he doesn’t. He just looks away, seemingly conflicted, and continues to follow the others. When everything around him is hell, you wonder if you’re even important enough to be worth more than a couple of seconds of his attention. Thankfully, the thought isn’t painful like you imagined it might be. In fact, it’s a bit freeing to let go of this stupid, ridiculous, pointless plan. Your grudge against the lieutenant is about the least important thing in the world right now, so insignificant that you wonder how you ever thought it was worth your time in the first place. There’s no need to make yourself feel more like the foolish, self-centered bitch that you’re realizing you are.

The only problem that comes with letting go of this plan is that you’re letting go of Levi, and it’s a serious problem that the thought gives you such an aching pang in your chest.

____________________

Stephen is gently shaking you for a good ten seconds before you snap out of it, looking at him with a bewildered expression.

“Aren’t you going to go for your walk?”

You look around. Dinner is nearly over, and a few people have already filed out to go back to their dorms. You must’ve zoned out, like you have been ever since the Scouts came back earlier today. You’ve never been so unfocused in your life, simply because you didn’t like not knowing what was happening around you. This is so unlike you, but you’re not sure what to do to stop it. A dark cloud has settled over your shoulders, and you have absolutely no idea how to get rid of it.

“Yeah.” You sigh and stand up, squeezing his hand in thanks. “Ricky went to bed already?”

Stephen nods, with a concerned frown on his face. “I know you’re worried about him, (F/N). I am, too. A lot.” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to have to worry about you too.”

You wince apologetically, running a hand through your hair. “Shit, I’m really sorry. Look, I’m fine, I am. I’m just...thinking a lot lately, that’s all.”

The last thing you want is to have your friends take time out of their day to schedule an intervention for you. You’re not the one who needs it. It’s as though everything just makes you feel worse and worse - it’s just that you feel fucking useless all the time, and now you’re an emotional burden to Stephen, who just has to be sweet to everyone.

“You don’t need to apologize,” he says kindly, “just take care of yourself, okay?

“Yeah. You too.” You squeeze his hand again and then head out, beginning your aimless walk around the grounds.

The moon is shining brightly, an unwanted beacon to the despair brewing inside you. Truthfully, you’re spiralling, and you haven’t spiralled in years, not since you decided to take control of your life. There’d been no trigger then, or maybe life itself had been the trigger, and you’d holed yourself up in your room as your head spun out of control. Cheesy questions like what am i doing here and what is my purpose and am i ever going to do anything meaningful rose to your mind then, and they do again now.

Back then, you’d decided that the answer simply lied outside of Stohess. You still believe that, to an extent. Going back isn’t going to solve anything, but...what did leaving accomplish? Your desires are fulfilled, but there’s no purpose to any of this. Not when people were and still are dying out there. Is the only way forward to dedicate yourself to the noble cause of saving humanity? There mustn't be a person alive who can give themselves that goal and actually hope to achieve it.

Well, except one.

This time, you’re the one who finds him.

He’s standing by his horse, stroking the fur gently. Somehow you’ve walked all the way to the stables without realizing. You take a step back, intending to walk away, but the selfish part of you that you’re starting to loathe doesn’t let you go any further than that. You’ve missed him, so much. You’ve missed his bad attitude, his amused smiles, his tantalizing gaze. You want it back, selfishness and selflessness all be damned. Now that he’s here in front of you, it’s too hard to resist.

“Lieutenant.”

Levi looks at you, and his shoulders droop as he stares wearily. He looks like he’s aged several years, and you consider that he probably doesn’t want to see you right now.

“Sorry to disturb you.” You take a deep breath, willing your hands to stay still by your sides and stop clenching. “Were you going for a ride?”

“Yeah.” He takes in the sight of you and then lets out the slightest of sighs. “Do you want to come?”

“What?”

Never in a million years did you expect him to offer going on a horse ride with you, and never in a billion years did you expect yourself to want to accept. You’re so taken aback that it doesn’t occur to you to note the little stool he’s using to hike himself up (as though he can’t pull himself on - it’s a formality more than anything). Levi’s looking at you, waiting for an answer, hand outstretched like he’s actually trying to live up to the fucking prince charming title you’ve given him.

“Okay,” you agree softly, not really knowing what the hell else you’re supposed to do.

You take his hand and he helps you on - really unnecessary, you can get on a horse by yourself - and you swallow when you realize he’s placed you in front. If he wants, he can observe your every reaction to him, and see...well, you don’t know what he’ll see or what you’ll do, but you know it’s not anything you’re willing to show him.

He gets on behind you, an arm snaking around your waist before he instructs you to hold onto the saddle tightly.

Neither of you speak. The horse trots peacefully, never going too fast. The poor thing’s probably done enough running to last it a lifetime. You caress the fur gently as you enter the forest, the moon now cloaked by the towering trees, stealing away your capacity for sight. It’s not something you inherently mind, honestly, it feels good to just close your eyes and relax.

But deep under the guilt and midlife crisis (probably more than midlife given the world you live in), you’re still you. And you get restless easily, not to mention you’ve been craving a conversation with Humanity’s Strongest Soldier, and you don’t want to pass up the chance.

“How bad was it?”

Okay, maybe not the conversation started you should have chosen.

“Bad,” Levi answers without much hesitation, “really bad.” He releases a shaky breath and on impulse you place your hand over his, immediately feeling awkward right after. Do you grip his fingers? Pat him in a show of solidarity? You don’t know, so you don’t do anything, but you don’t remove your hand either.

After a beat, he says, “I was wrong.”

You wrack your brain about what he could be wrong about. Maybe about asking you to come with him just now. Your company hasn’t exactly been what you would call pleasant.

“About what, sir?”

When Levi responds, you feel his hot breath on your neck and you barely stop yourself from shuddering. He shouldn’t be in such close proximity to you. Doesn’t he know what he does to you when he gets this close?

“I said I wanted to see the day that smile got wiped off your face. Now that the day’s here, I wish I could take it back.”

You whip your head around, not even bothering to make sure you don’t accidentally hit him. Luckily you don’t, even though he’s not far from you at all, just a centimeter closer and the tip of your nose would touch his. In the dark, you can barely make him out, but the grey eyes that have fascinated you for so long are discernible even without any light. He’s watching you, so intently that your face burns up, and you pray to whoever’s up there that he can’t see you too well without the moonlight.

But can anyone blame you? Lieutenant Levi, the man who’d punished you for smiling, was now claiming that he missed the very smile that had made you the bane of his existence. You can’t chalk it up to his usual mood swings, because you know it’s not that. You know he’s trying to tell you something, and you’re so close to figuring it out.

You don’t even flinch when his finger curls under your chin and tilts it up just a bit so he can appreciate the view properly.

Even in the dark, you know his lips are just a mere inch away from yours. You wonder what he tastes like.

No.

You turn back around, heart pounding wildly in your chest. It’s wildly inappropriate to think about doing something like that. You can’t, not when he’s your trainer and lieutenant and humanity’s savior. Whatever this is, you have to reel it in control.

“I can’t,” you say, and then quickly clarify so he doesn’t get the wrong idea, “I can’t smile. Not when so much has happened. How can I smile when people...when they’re out there...when you and the rest of the soldiers have sacrificed everything and I’ve done nothing?”

It’s not as though you expect him to give you the most motivational speech in the world, but when he answers, “You’re going to sacrifice plenty in the future,” you feel overwhelmed with guilt, and you just want it to stop. He doesn’t know. Doesn’t know your plans, your motivations, or why you’re here at all. He thinks you’re someone that you’re really, truly not.

But you’re not brave enough to tell him any of that. So you opt for the other truth, the less relevant but equally as pressing one.

“I’m not strong enough.”

“No,” Levi murmurs in agreement, “but you’re going to be.” Both his arms are curled around you, and there’s something uplifting in his tone when he says, “4 AM tomorrow, understood?”

Just like that, your goal changes.

If the lieutenant thinks that you can actually be useful, then maybe...maybe you actually can. You’ve somehow gotten in the top ten without even meaning to, so it’s not too much of a stretch to think you could be really good if you actively tried. And he’s still willing to train you - even after all that’s happened, he doesn’t consider you an added bother to his already difficult life. And you plan to value that, now. You’re going to get better, stronger, faster. No more passivity. And maybe if you do this, you can ease the guilt brewing inside before you completely drown in it.

“Yes, sir.”

Determination has risen back inside you, but a ghost of a smile only reappears on your face when you hear him yawn, something you’re one hundred percent sure you’ve never seen nor heard before.

“Are you actually sleepy, Lieutenant?” you tease quietly, “it’s not even 11 PM yet.”

“You should be happy,” he mutters, “all your efforts trying to chase away my insomnia and it’s finally worked.”

If not for the trees providing you safety in the form of the absence of light, you wouldn’t be as bold to do what you do next. Closing your eyes, you lean back and hunch down, resting your cheek against his chest. He stiffens a little at the close contact, but doesn’t say anything or push you away. You won’t kiss him, but you can allow yourself this much, just to seek comfort in the safety he provides just by being there. He’s so, so warm.

The horse rides on, and Levi keeps his arms around you and on the reigns.

Truthfully, as you listen to his heartbeat, you don’t think you’ll ever know who comforts who most tonight.

____________________

The next morning, you’re there before he is, on your fourth lap by the time he walks up. If Levi’s surprised, he doesn’t show it. He only takes his new spot on the new grounds at this new base, and watches you from afar.

Naturally, he still barks at you that your stance is sloppy when you start doing your squats, asking you snidely how many times he’s told you that you need to squat down at a ninety degree angle and just what you did in your early mathematics classes if that’s what you think ninety degrees is. He still presses you into the ground with his foot when you attempt to do a push-up without going all the way down. And he absolutely still withholds your water privileges until you’re practically dizzy from your activities.

Except this time, you have no complaints. You do what you’re ordered.

And maybe stop to give him one or two pointed glares.

When he dismisses you, you find that you’ve still got a bit of energy left. You’re certainly not sleepy.

“Will you spar with me?”

Levi raises a brow, unimpressed. “So you can get your ass handed to you again?”

“I’ve improved!” you cry out indignantly.

“Oh yeah, you’ve made great strides.” He snorts, digging his heel into the ground and raising his fists. “Okay, (L/N), give me your best shot.”

With Lieutenant Levi, the thing that matters most is the element of surprise. Last time, you went for his legs, so he’ll see that coming. You quickly scan his stance - how is it that you two have spent so much time together and you still haven’t located a single weakness of his? Not that that’s what you’re doing anymore, but it would sure be helpful in a fight. Needless to say, you need to think fast.

So before either of you can move, you cry out in pain, clutching your side. “Shit! I - I think I pulled a muscle - ow, fuck -”

Levi’s beside you in an instant, hand reaching down to inspect your stomach. Damn, you’re a better actor than you give yourself credit for. As soon as he reaches out, you grab his bicep with both your hands, plant your feet, and yank up as hard as you can.

No, you probably can’t throw him over your shoulder. But you can at least try to whirl him around you and then tackle him while he tries to regain his balance.

Well, you could if Levi didn’t twist his arm out of your grasp within a single second and grab you in a chokehold.

“Playing dirty, are we?” he whispers in your ear, “naughty girl, I should keep you here an extra hour just for that.”

Gasping for breath, you pat his elbow repeatedly in defeat. Surrender, you surrender! After holding on to lord his victory over you just a little longer, he lets you go, and you suck air into your lungs desperately.

He doesn’t make you stay any longer, but nonetheless, you certainly lose your brawl. How disappointing.

“I’ll...get you...next time…”

Levi’s lips quirk into what can be taken for a smile. “No, you won’t.”

“Yes I will!”

____________________

You lose the next time.

____________________

And the next time.

____________________

And the next.

____________________

It’s a whole two months later when Ricky laughs again.

There’s nothing funny about the situation at all - everyone is freezing their ass off in the middle of nowhere and questioning just how surviving a snowy mountain is going to improve their combat skills. No one was brave enough to ask this question before, though, so now all they can do is deal with it. The problem is that your group is definitely lost.

“Well, this is great,” Gunther groans, sinking on his knees into the snow. You wonder how he can handle the cold biting past his clothes and into his skin.

Ophelia, who’s been pessimistic since the beginning, seems to take this as her permission to sling her bag off and completely give up. “We’re going to die up here.”

You huff. “We’re not going to die, but yeah, we’re gonna lose some merit. They’ll probably send a search party by morning.”

“T-tell us, (F/N),” Gunther says in that smarmy tone of his that makes you pity his parents, “how exactly are we going to make it till morning? You got a fur coat hiding away in those custom boots?”

Ophelia snorts and you narrow your eyes at him. “If I did, I wouldn’t share it. And they’re not custom, it’s actually a very popular brand item.”

“Well, mind trading with me? All I have are these ratty ones.”

“I do mind, actually.”

Ricky hasn’t said anything, only observed your interactions with a blank expression. You let out a pained breath, filled with disdain at seeing your precious oxygen visibly. Yeah, you’ve decided you’re not a fan of the cold, not one bit. You’re already one of those people who is cold all the time, and this isn’t really helping. Apparently no one has any idea, and although Gunther was assigned team leader, you decide to step in.

“We have two options.” You hug yourself, rubbing your arms in an unsuccessful attempt to warm up. “We could try to find some shelter and stay alive till morning, or…” You sigh, not really a fan of all the work that goes into option two, but it’s still the one you’re leaning towards. “Or we get our shit together and find out how to get back to the cabin tonight.”

You’ve got something to prove, after all.

Ophelia’s teeth are chattering as she says, “W-where the h-hell will we find shelter out here?”

“Nowhere. That’s why we’re gonna go with the other idea.”

“Someone’s eager to hold onto her position,” Gunther accuses, “even if it means sacrificing her team!”

“Oh my God, who am I sacrificing? Who have I sacrificed so far? No one!”

“Yet!”

You make a rude gesture and stalk off on your own. The others call after you, but only Ricky follows, grabbing your shoulder before you misstep and tumble into the icy ground. You groan loudly, this is so not how the night was supposed to go. You have to make it back.

“You’ve changed,” Ricky says all of a sudden. “I’ve known that for a while, and I know that we all have, but you’ve done a complete turnaround. I mean…” He hesitates, considering his words carefully. You wonder if he knows that just by doing that, he’s showing that he’s changed quite a bit too. “You would have decided to give up on this by now. So what’s the deal?”

Honestly, it’s surprising that it’s taken him this long to ask. Nonetheless, these days you’re glad to hear Ricky speak at all, so anything he says is welcome. That doesn’t mean you know how to answer his question, though.

“Like you said, we’ve all changed. I just decided to…” You trail off and shiver, rubbing your hands together.

“Give a shit?”

You give him a weak smile. “Yeah.”

Ricky nods, looking satisfied enough with the answer. There’s a slight shift in his expression as he peers at you. “It’s not out of pity, right?” When you look confused, he clarifies. “Not out of pity for me. I know I don’t matter that much to you - I just mean, if you feel bad for everything that’s happened, to everyone, you shouldn’t.”

Scoffing, you glare at him, with crossed arms. “Who said you don’t matter to me?”

“Do I?” He grins, looking genuinely surprised. “Me, the outer city peasant?”

This time you allow yourself to speak without thinking. Sometimes, the moment just calls for it. “Yeah, well, we rich folk have to do some charity work sometimes.”

That’s when Ricky laughs, and oh, how you’ve missed the sound. He throws his head back, looking up to the sky like he’s praying. Snowflakes coat his cheeks, and when he looks back at you, his eyes are bright, and he’s gazing at you in the same way you’re sure he once gazed at his poor, lovely little sister who couldn’t make it long enough to see her brother step up and become a hero of humanity.

Then he grabs your arm, yanking you forward.

“Come on, twerp.” He ignores your protests that his hand is freezing. “Let’s get you off this mountain.”

____________________

Okay, Petra definitely knows that you’re trying to compete with her for the number one position. She’s just too nice to say anything, so the two of you just silently try to outdo each other in every which way. Teacher asks a question in class? Either your hand or her’s will fly up right away. Grumman walks by? Well, the two of you are saluting faster than anyone else can even ball their fist. There’s an advanced exercise at 2 PM? You both finished your exercises early and are there at 1:30.

You’re not even sure when you started competing with her, but here you are.

And to be fair, you’re neck and neck with the star student. In classes, you’re basically equal, her because she works hard and studies and you because you retain information well and can play suck up rather well. As for hand to hand combat, you pretty much top your entire Cadet Corp except maybe Traute. When people are paired up to train to steal the knife from each other, no one ever wants to partner up with you (which both hurts and is rather flattering). Yeah, in a fight, you’re pretty much secure. It’s the 3D maneuvering where Petra has you beat.

Now, you’re not bad at using your ODM gear, not by any means. She’s just a damn natural. Any maneuver that takes you five days to pull off is one she can manage in three. A part of you wishes that she actually was a horrible person - then you could at least use your dislike of her as a motivator to beat her. Alas, you’re quite fond of the other girl.

These complaints are what you find yourself telling Levi one morning, after requesting that he watch you fly through the forest. Nowadays it wasn’t entirely unusual for you to stay past 6 AM, either doing extra training or just talking to him. He’d complied, and you’d gotten gear for the both of you to use in the forest.

Seeing him in action only serves to make you even more grouchy about your own skills. Levi’s already fast enough on his feet; with the ODM gear he seems nearly invincible and you have an inkling he’s not performing to the best of his abilities just to monitor you. When you finally tire yourself out, you grumpily toss the gear off, head out into the grass, check for bugs and flop down onto your back once you’re sure it’s safe. “I don’t get it,” you moan unhappily, “why can’t I do it as well as you can?”

Levi steps in front of you, his head blocking out the rising sun. Ah, perfect. “It’s because you enjoy it too much.”

“Oh, is that your professional diagnosis?”

He sucks in a long breath, which you know translates to you’re so fucking difficult, damn shitty brat. “My professional diagnosis is that you’re a dumbass.”

“Aww, thanks, sir! But I only take medical advice from licensed professionals.”

Levi notes your position and moves out of the way to allow the sun to blind you. You wince, squinting in the sunlight, and your hand comes up to shield your poor eyes. Averting your gaze, you peer straight up. In the middle of spring, from the open grounds down below, the clouds have never looked more beautiful.

“Wanna lay down with me? It’s therapeutic. The grass feels great.” You beckon him down next to you, but he shakes his head, instead choosing to deliver a small kick to your side. You hiss - someone seriously needs to do something about the lieutenant’s violent tendencies.

“Do you think I’m doing this so you can look at the pretty sky?”

Tossing your arm over your eyes, you say, “No, you’re doing this because you’re interested in me.”

The sound that Levi lets out is so strangled that you immediately look at him, concerned. He turns away from you for a second, scoffing with his cheeks tinted slightly red, and that’s when you realize he took your statement in an entirely wrong way. You’re a bit offended nonetheless, he doesn’t have to act like it’s disgusting to even think about you in that way. People have been interested in you! It’s happened, you’re a delight! He’s just blind, that’s all.

“I meant interested in me as a subordinate.” You sit up, knees hunched to your chest. “Now that Commander Erwin is in charge, everyone knows you’re going to get promoted soon too. Get a whole squad all to yourself.” Grinning at him, you let your palms rest on the blades of grass beneath you. “Hunting for your own lieutenant, Captain Levi?”

Huh. The title rolls right off the tongue. It suits him pretty well.

He looks at you strangely for a second, before holding his hand out. As you tug yourself up, he mutters, “Please, if I was going to have a lieutenant, I’d need someone competent.”

“Well,” you drawl, not bothered, “I’m not interested anyways.” At least there, you’re being truthful. Even if the thought makes you feel ashamed.

You and him continue to bicker as you walk across the grounds to put the gear back in the shed. While you don’t exactly walk slowly, you don’t go at your fastest pace either, itching to prolong the time that the two of you share. A stark contrast to the first few weeks you trained with him, when all you could think about was going back to bed. Now, nearly a year and a half later, you’re not sleepy, you’re not angry, and you don’t hate him.

When it’s time to part ways, you pretend as though you’re studying him carefully.

“What?” Levi snaps, but there’s no bite to his bark.

“I stand by what I said earlier, about you wanting a lieutenant.” A small smirk spreads on your lips. “But I also think you just have a crush on me.”

He stares at you. A second passes. Two seconds.

Three seconds.

You burst out laughing, hitting his shoulder. “You should see your face! Did you think I was serious?”

He looks at you with his eyes narrowed crossly, only serving to make you laugh louder.

“Minx,” he finally says, shaking his head, “a fucking minx is what you are, (L/N).”

____________________

“It’s raining!”

The excitement with which you squeal those words has nearly everyone rolling their eyes, but they follow you out anyways. It’s nice of them to abandon their lunch for this momentous occasion, rain during the summertime. You feel a rush of love for your fellow cadets, specifically for the three people who are right besides you. Of course you’ve always considered Millie your best friend, but Ricky and Stephen had filled a piece of your soul that you didn’t know was empty. This is your family, and you love them.

“Stephen!” Millie’s voice comes, scolding next to you. “Are you serious?”

“What?”

“He still doesn’t know what regiment he wants to join.”

“Leave him alone,” Ricky asserts, taking a swipe at her that she ducks.

“I know what I want to join,” Stephen mumbles, “I’m just not sure…”

Somehow, you know exactly what he’s considering. The rain gives you courage.

“The Scouts are wonderful.” Stephen turns to you, surprised, and you let out a giddy laugh. “They’re amazing. Brave, and heroic, and they kick ass. You’d do really well there, Stephen.”

You’re rambling, but by some miracle, Stephen takes your words to heart and makes his decision.

“Okay,” he says, with a wide smile on his face. “I’ll join the Scouts.”

Ricky coughs into his fist, something that sounds suspiciously like kiss ass. You’re too enthralled by your current environment to notice that, or Millie’s disapproving glare.

Bathing in the rain, you spin around until you’re dizzy. Droplets pour down your face, soaking your hair, your uniform, and you couldn’t be more thrilled. This, really, is what happiness is. The chance to fool around in the rainfall, to throw your hands up and feel precisely just how little of a speck you are in the vast, wide world. Slipping a hand into your bun, you let your hair down, closing your eyes as you soak up the thrill.

Everyone is chattering in groups around you. No one is mourning the lunch that has been long forgotten in the mess hall.

There’s grey eyes watching you when you open yours, a fond smile that you think he probably let slip past the tough exterior on his face. No one can resist this weather.

Maybe third time’s the charm. Even if it’s not, it doesn’t hurt to try, right?

You raise your hand and wave at him.

From the distance, still watching you closely, Levi sighs softly and then waves back.

Something you’ve never felt before bubbles up in your chest. It threatens to consume you as the others become a blur in the precipitation around you. You feel light on your feet, almost as though you’re not even touching the ground anymore. Affection? Adoration? For him?

Maybe it’s because of the stupid way he holds his teacup. Or maybe it’s the way he looks at you like you’re the funniest, most ridiculous person he’s ever met. It might be how his touch always lingers, how he’s always warm, and how he never fails to catch you when you stumble. How about that dumb cravat, why is he always wearing that?

His sarcastic quips, always ready to fire back at you. The way he brushed your tears away that time he’d found you crying. How he never pushes you to open up more than you want to, and how truthful he is. The feeling you get when he smiles or laughs at you, knowing it’s a rarity for him. His eyes, a blend of silver and charcoal that you could stare into for hours and still never get tired of.

It’s here, dancing in the summer rain, that you realize something that really should have been painfully obvious. There’s a reason you notice all these things. There’s a reason your heart is fluttering right now. There’s a reason that time has frozen, and there’s a reason you feel like you’re floating a thousand miles up in the air.

It’s because you like him. You really, really like him.

Oh, shit.

reader on her first day: wow levi’s eyes are beautiful

reader whenever levi is in front of her: damn he is so alluring

reader every time levi so much as glances at her: does he like me?

reader for two years: if levi asked me to have sex with him i would

also reader: omg i have a crush on him??? how is that possible?????

falling for a guy just because he finally waved back at you after like sixteen months is kinda weird but you do you girl.

one chapter left! :O

#aot #attack on titan #aot x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #valkyrie stories

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antiloreolympus · 3 years

Text

10 Anti LO Asks

1. Are death gods like a class lower than Olympian gods? Minthe says that Hades can buy all the suits in the world and still stink of death and Apollo refers to Thanatos as Poor Man’s Heremes and also reeks of death. Do they smell bad, or do people just hate them for existing? You’d think they’d be a little more fear controlling death/underworld

2. for the person saying "come on, persephone being a self insert isn't bad" completely misses the point. As a young writer I used to have self inserts until I realized that my favoritism overshadowed the narrative and didn't allow for my characters to experience consequences or be in the wrong. This is how creator's pets get made, and no one likes those because they ruin the story and take away attention from other (more interesting) characters! (1/2)

We are clearly seeing this in LO. Persephone is essentially a perfect little goddess who keeps getting powers, is probably going to be revealed as one of the strongest goddesses, and her issues (sans the two giant ones we know what it is) almost never personally affect her. No one gets angry at her in a meaningful way unless the narrative wants us to demonize them, and when they suddenly "see the light" and go to her side, they're rewarded! THAT'S why persephone as a S.I is bad

3. Ok. I think Daphene and Thanatos are the best ship. I would read this story...also,Thanatos is the grim reaper...how metal would be if he take down LO Apollo and LO Hades? Yes, I'm aware this would be impossible in the.original myths but HEY why not? RS is not caring for the source material

4. RS’s writing is such a mess of contradictions between actuality and intent it’s hilarious: 1) Hades is supposed to be seen as a good guy yet is portrayed as a tyrant who somehow still manages to be a Gary Stu. 2) Persephone is simultaneously overpowered (fertility goddess powers) and powerless (is just a college kid) to the point where she’s viewed as a spoiled rich brat living consequence-free and destitute young woman left with no options but to marry to get out of trouble

3) Artemis is supposed to represent a separatist feminist yet is depicted as foolish, British and out of the loop for humorous effect by the poss poor excuse of a comic which calls itself ‘a feminist feeling’. 4) The lack of time skips coupled with RS’s need to give HxP as many ‘cute’ moments as possible makes the comic’s progress feel slow for the reader when it’s actually progressing at breakneck speed if you go by the character’s timeframe.

5) Wants to treat SA with nuance and sensitivity (RS almost manages to do it at first) but then uses Persephone’s rape as trauma porn, a means for pushing her closer to Hades while reminding the reader of his differences from Apollo and a means of furthering the side plots (Artemis’s descent into depressed confusion, Eros and Psyche’s romance, Hera’s quest to get the mains together).

5. i genuinely do not want to see whatever reason rachel thinks up to have zeus and demeter not like each other because it's either going to be a "shock" incest twist (unlikely) or it's going to be something akin to how she made apollo to persephone and maybe zeus stole her "fertility" and thats why she couldnt have persephone naturally and why demeter isnt a fertility goddess but persephone is. like no writing choice is good in this so i guess brace for the worst from her in this regard.

6. i honestly get sad looking at old LO art because not only is all the charm gone, but the colors also got way worse. hades used to be this subdued, rich dark blue with icy blue hair while persephone was a nice shade of pastel pink with magenta hair, but now theyre all one shade of neon. there used to be choices put into the art but now its just lazy. like hades looks like a blue highlighter, and persephone like her personality is only one nauseatingly bright shade and thats it 😞

7. i feel like if at least the writing in LO was good the art would excusable, you know what i mean? and the same can be said in reverse, but both are just so bad (or was never good to begin with) that it just seems inexcusable? like at least put effort into one, not half assing at best for both.

8. i mean for all we know bc thats how how psyche normally looks the braids are just a nymph disguise that basically pops away once shes human looking again. regardless the whole thing is nasty once you think about it and idk what we expected from a white woman to begin with. she thinks persephone revolving her whole world and being dependent on hades is feminist and making a canon bi god a r//pist is groundbreaking too like ....

9. lets add to the psyche is black-coded discourse: anyone want to mention how nasty it is she was literally sold off to a WHITE MAN for eros to save her from (ignoring the fact he proceeded to lie to her while having a sexual relationship), made her loving parents into abusive assholes, and psyche just happens to be the only character who is illiterate despite being a princess? the whole thing reeks of internalized racism on rachel's part, and her now giving her braids kinda makes it worse, tbh.

-----FP Spoilers-----

10. Is it me? Or in the fast past episode were they showed one of the muses Polymnia (or Polyhymnia) they mixed her with Clio??? Because Zeus calls her "the goddess/muse of history" but Polymnia is acutally the muse of hymns, CLIO is the muse of history, how did they get that wrong? Her name literally means "a lot of hymns"! And why is there a muse in this??? Even she says that she shouldn't be there because she doesn't work in anything similar to law, did Zeus really asked her to make a POEM in a TRAIAL??? For what exactly? Make Persephone look bad?

#anti lo #anti lore olympus #lore olympus critical #lo critical

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bakugouisabitch · 3 years

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nono, i care about your very specific highschool au. rant about it please.

dgslsjs omg youu 🥺

well if you insist.... ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

okay, i once had a discord group which i miss sm rip where i shared some ideas from that AU so i’m basically gonna repeat them here now shsjs under the read more 👇

this AU includes both Maliks as siblings (+ Isis and Rishid ofc) and both Bakuras as siblings too. The two Yamis are the elder brothers of the non-Yamis so they also have their own name ofc.

For Yami Malik I’d go with Amir cause the name is beautiful and fits him somehow (it means ‘prince’ or ‘chief’). This AU is literally so self-indulgent where I can finally write Amir just how I picture him in my head as the funny himbo he is, who makes some creepy jokes at times but is generally a nice guy and is just constantly stoned sdfgskh

For Yami Bakura i haven’t thought of a name yet 🙃 He’s low key the protag and I still don’t have a name for him 👏 good work, Ziggy 👏 I was thinking about something that makes his initials still be YB so a name with Y actually (Yamato maybe ?) Everyone calls him Bakura/Bakura-kun anway and they mostly call Ryou “the little Bakura”/Bakura-chan (affectionately) since he is the little brother ahsksfsj

In this AU Amir and YB are like really close friends. They are classmates in their last year together and they are known for being trouble makers. But not just like Honda and Jounouchi in the anime - they are worse than that. They have risked being expelled many times and smoke on the school’s rooftops and even hang out with older guys who sell illegal shit and such (it’d be tw for drugs ofc). OH and lots of spray painting on public places 👊 They are really best buds and bonded over same interests and music taste and same hate for the society and family and such. This fanart was a major inspiration to write these two as high school best buddies.

Also, I did a quick redraw of the typical anime boys sleeping in the classroom pose with these two. That’s them:

(might finish it one day and post it seperately idk my motivation is swinging lately 🤷)

All their “criminal” behaviour ofc stems from a sad background/past because i’m just a sucker for angst and i keep making my boys suffer 😔 i’m sorry. Every guy in this AU has daddy issues or just family issues in general

YB is VERY overprotective over his little brother Ryou (who’s just two years younger than him, and just like Malik, starts his first high school year in Domino High School). He is literally responsible for raising him up because ever since they lost their mother and Amane (Ryou’s twin sister) at a very young age their father fell into a very deep depression and he’s constantly away “for work” and just generally neglects his two remaining sons. YB hates their father because of that so he has taken it as his own responsibility to make sure Ryou is always safe and protected and acts like the parent in their home (where there is usually just the two of them). Also, another self indulgent thing here: YB being an ass with everyone except for being an overprotective good big brother for Ryou 🥺 please! so cute!! (They ride a bike together on their way to school like this fanart)

The Ishtar’s parents are both dead. Their mother died when giving birth to the youngest one (Malik) and their father died under very tragic circumstances (still gotta think how 🤔 it definitely wasn’t Amir tho’) and they used to have a very abusive household thus why Amir HATES their dad. Contrary to Malik, who keeps saying he deserved a second chance and was a good father and wishes he could have made him proud ~ this always makes Amir and Malik fight amongst other things and this is what also bonds Amir and YB so much: the hate for their old man.

It would be a very psychological AU that deals with a lot of issues and shit and traumas the boys have to live with + adding all the typical teenage angst at that age so it’s CHAOS. and I’d also have the perfect soundtrack/playlist for it 💆‍♀️ (it would be set in the 90s)

Ofc it’d be bakumali because I can’t help myself (and maybe also Ryou x Amir as a side pairing 👀)

Since it’s Malik’s first year in domino high school he wants to be recognised as one of the “cool kids” and befriend the older boys from the class. he just hates it that his big brother (Amir) is always there as well. Compared to the Bakuras these two have much more of a turbulent kind of relationship going on as siblings, where they constantly fight and Amir says Malik “ruined” the family whenever their fights get harsher and Malik says father never loved him anyway. Isis and Rishid try to keep the family and the boys under control as young adults but it’s hard 😔

YB visits the Ishtars sometimes to hang out with Amir in his room where they listen to music, smoke weed, and play PS and such and this is when Malik “spies” on YB. he thinks his big brother’s friend looks so cool with his ripped jeans and eyeliner and black nail polish. One night YB and Amir are smoking weed in Amir’s room and playing PS when Malik would use the chance. He’d piss Amir off and tell him it’s his turn to take the trash out on purpose to make him leave his room. Ofc Amir says no but then Malik “threatens” him with “I will tell sister you smoke weed if you don’t take the trash out”. And so Amir leaves (slamming the door behind him like an unruly teenager and saying he’s gonna kill Malik) and leaves a stoned YB alone in his room. And this is when Malik uses the chance to be alone with a very confused and very stoned YB who wonders why Amir’s little brother seems to be so interested in him sdfghjkl and yea this is basically their first encounter.

Malik has basically a kind of obvious “fangirl crush” for YB but the latter is so confused why and what he even sees in him. Because for him there’s nothing “cool” in skipping school and breaking the rules, it’s just the only thing he knows. But for Malik this is the coolest shit he’s ever seen.

this little sketch i made kinda shows my idea for their relationship in this AU better sdfghjk:

Malik befriends Ryou (who is in his same class and school year) out of convenience ofc cause he wants to get closer to YB. Yes Malik is a lil bitch in this AU. And Ryou is like extremely nice and polite, he’s the weird silent kid who doesn’t have a lot of friends and lives in his own world. He falls victim to bullies a lot and YB also keeps that rough facade to make sure no one messes with him. Ryou befriends Malik and tries to answer all of the weird, intimate questions he has of his big brother...

One night I, like, imagined a scenario where Amir and YB are out spray-painting a wall behind the station with some other thugs and Malik and Ryou followed them secretly (it was all Malik’s plan) even if Ryou was totally contrary to the idea. Once they see the guys have drugs and alcohol Ryou wants to leave, but Malik says this is exactly what makes it exciting and joins them without warning. When Amir and YB see Malik they panic, wondering what he is doing here. Amir gets particularly pissed off and wants to just leave. ofc YB tells him he can’t just leave his young brother alone in a place like this with people like that. But Amir ignores him (and this will lead to one of the first big fights between the two best buddies 😔 they will punch each other. I told you it will have a lot of angst)

Anyway at the end Amir leaves and YB is decent enough to bring both Ryou and Malik home but then Malik insits on wanting to crash at their place. So YB is like “i guess??” And they spend the night together at the Bakura’s place :) YB takes the couch and leaves his bed for Malik to sleep in but Malik will have none of that ofc sgksksj

Okay sorry for boring you, I could go on forever with so many scenarios of this AU or like actually sit down and write it... and yea.. that’s it.... just angsty and misunderstood boys in a shitty society with shitty parents trying to find a sense with their lives 🥺

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unweavinglies · 4 years

Text

Gonta Gokuhara Character Analysis: When a Genius is Treated like a Child

So a quick disclaimer: Yes, I am very aware that this is most likely not canon, or at least not what the writers intended on being canon, nor am I saying that this is 100% canon and should be considered as such. This is just a fan theory/analysis I came up with for my own enjoyment and wanted to share with others, as I like coming up with theories/analysis posts and reworking canons to make enhanced stories and character development in my perspective. I firmly believe that the idea of making theories isn’t supposed to be a shouting contest to see which opinion is the most loud and correct, but should be something to share with others and find acceptance and understanding in different interpretations, even if you don’t agree with them.

Well, this has been a long time coming, hasn’t it?

I’ve been talking about wanting to do this analysis for months now to various friends and acquaintances, but I’ve only had the motivation to do as such recently, after writing a short story that dived deeper into Gonta’s mindset over the Mercy Killing Plot he and Kokichi attempted to carry out. Regardless of that, however, Gonta has been one of my favorite characters for quite some time, and I really feel like his character arc and the unfortunate tragedy behind the unintentional mistreatment of Gonta via his classmates.

So without further adieu, let’s talk about that--about what happens when a genius is treated like a child.

Warning, this does discuss some rather unfortunate topics, such as ableism, depression/self loathing, and the concept of mercy killing. Viewer discretion is advised.

The first thing we need to elaborate on, is why I am calling Gonta a “genius.” Gonta has shown difficulty in understanding simple concepts, and struggles to follow along complicated plots, such as we see in his Salmon Mode Event where he mentions that he cannot follow the plot of high fantasy stories because they tend to be so complicated. He even refers to himself as not very smart, tragically enough.

However, not is all what it seems for Gonta, as his intellect is a matter of fact, and not just an analysis, and the game’s introduction of him opens up this fact to the player in a round about way that may or may not be so subtle.

Gonta admits here that he was a wild child, lost in the forest for ten years. While the logistics are... questionable, this is a work of fiction, thus I will suspend some disbelief. Gonta being lost in the forest for ten years means that he was probably about 5-8 years old when he was lost, depending on how old he is in the game.

Touching upon this briefly, studies of wild children, specifically referencing this case here, have an extremely hard time readjusting and learning to human language, customs, and interaction. The younger a child is upon becoming a wild child and the longer they are in the wild, the less likely they will be able to learn language and certain social behaviors and skills. While it is not impossible, the likelihood of Gonta being 15 or 16 in the game is very low, and even impossible once I elaborate, and we can safely assume that with the context of him being a wild child, he is probably at least 17 years old. So a safe assumption is that Gonta was lost in the forest when he was about 7.

(Note: I am very well aware of Gonta’s potential forest family not being wolves, and instead the reptites, but these creatures Gonta speaks of very well be his own imagination spiking from the isolation from humanity, or be something else entirely. Gonta makes several references to video game characters as well, claiming he met them in real life, so I consider it highly unlikely that “reptites” are an exception to this. Either way, it won’t matter if you believe otherwise, just that it may change certain aspects of what I’m about to say in regarding education and the sort.)

What’s the point of this elaboration? Well, quite a lot, once you remember that Gonta is the Ultimate Entomologist.

Firstly, there is the fact that Gonta is a high school student at all. Gonta was lost at a very young age--it would be impossible for him to be, since not only had he spent 10 years int he wild, but he also had to rejoin human society, relearn human language and customs, and then be put back into formal education. If Gonta is still a teenager and not over 21, then Gonta would have to cram in a decade’s worth of formal education into a few months, or a few years, at most.

This makes Gonta a literal prodigy.

Had Gonta not been isolated from humanity for a decade, Gonta would have been a child prodigy, a literal genius with an intellect that couldn’t be so easily matched. Having the capacity to learn advance mathematics, language (although in the English version, he is struggling with speak (speaking with the infamous “caveman” speech pattern) scientific methods, all of it within such a short amount of time proves that Gonta is, without a shred of doubt, a genius.

Even if you take the aforementioned reptites into account, it only makes Gonta’s accomplishments slightly less impressive, depending on your interpretation of what the reptites actually are. This is because Gonta still had to engage with formal education, and even in the best case scenario where the reptites were fully advanced beings with a civilization and education (which I quite doubt, if they were, then why not give Gonta back to the human race when he was still a child? Why not guide him back to his kind? Why keep him? Even if they were afraid of humanity, it would be far, far worse for the humans to find them while looking for their lost son... I digress.) Gonta still had to learn Japan’s education. Their history, their language, their social customs--and then, Gonta had to learn how to be an entomologist.

You need to go to college to be an entomologist.

According to this website here, the basic, bare bones higher education one needs in order to apply for certain positions related to entomology is a bachelor’s degree, with most positions and places requiring a doctoral decree. There are, of course, youth clubs for students under eighteen, but from my understanding, in order to be considered an entomologist, you need a college degree.

Gonta is a high school student.

For him to be considered an Ultimate Entomologist, Gonta would have to have taken college courses and gotten some kind of degree in order to be recognized as such. Thus, Gonta is still learning a higher education within a short period of time that is incredible for any human being his age, whether it be as drastic as him having no sort of education while living in the wild, or living with the reptites.

Either way, it is safe to say that Gonta is very intelligent, whether or not he is potentially a prodigy for it.

However, this has very unfortunate implications of the way Gonta is treated by his peers in the game.

Not only does Tsumugi here reenforce that idea in everyone else’s mind...

She blatantly tells Gonta that he was being manipulated and or “tricked” into abducting everyone...

When, in actuality, not only did Gonta know exactly what he was doing:

Kokichi even elaborated on his plans quite explicitly to Gonta:

And earlier on, the rest of the class had been treating him differently than they treat one another, sort of like he was a young child they needed to guide.

For example;

Kirumi assumes Gonta is not very aware that hitting someone with such an object is dangerous... despite him being a peer to his classmates and a young man.

And when Gonta has a pretty valid concern;

He is instructed against it and/or ignored on the subject:

Even Kaede slips up a little;

And during the investigation...

Himiko is 100% convinced here that Gonta is the culprit, to the point where she is trying to trick him with this kind of phrasing.

“Are you not, not the culprit?” equates to “Are you the culprit?”

“Are you not, not, not the culprit?” equates to... I believe it would be “Are you not the culprit?”

And that’s the thing:

Like how even I was confused and unsure about the triple ‘nots’ of Himiko’s statement, Gonta is too. Very reasonably so, actually--it’s extremely awkward phrasing purposefully meant to manipulate Gonta into saying he’s the culprit of Rantaro’s murder, and it takes Kaito and Himiko to realize that it was them causing the problem when Kaede called them out on such.

And again, after Gonta explains his actions during the murder, he gets very frustrated;

Already, we are seeing the effects piling up, leading to a frustrated, angry outburst.

And by far, one of the worst examples of this sort of unintentional ableism is this:

And Himiko even just... flat out does this:

By “dumbing down” the explanation of right and left, and not noticing that Gonta is left handed, she caused him to accidentally switch the wires on the headset, causing the memory error and making this entire trial all the more worse for him. By treating him like a child, like the theme of this trial, she only made things worse for him.

And that’s the problem.

Despite Gonta trying to tell everyone that he has no idea what they’re even talking about, everyone just assumes he “can’t understand the Virtual World” and brushes him off. Again and again, Gonta was treated like a child and brushed off, and this time, it came with a heavy consequence.

These instances of “guiding” Gonta are subtle, and on their own, aren’t much to address as anything more than suggestions or words of caution. However, there is a very clear theme of “we have to tell Gonta what he should do” that starts in Chapter 1 and continues on until the end of Chapter 4. They’re unintentionally telling him that Gonta needs to be guided and needs to be reminded of pretty obvious and basic knowledge, and worst of all, that he can’t be trusted to think for himself and thus needs someone to tell him how to think and feel.

If it was one or two times, that would be a whole other story. However, these instances pile up, higher and higher throughout the entire span of Gonta’s time in the Killing Game, and the majority of the class ends up dismissing or ignoring Gonta’s concerns.

This sparks a growing desire to prove himself, to prove that he can be useful during the trials. To prove to his peers that he can do something on his own, think for himself, decide for himself, except even until his final moments;

Even after Gonta’s Alter Ego telling himself and everyone explicitly that he was not tricked into killing Miu...

... No one listens.

Instead of listening to Gonta, over and over, they continue to brush him off and treat him like a child they had to care for, and yet no one stopped to consider that Gonta is a young man. An intelligent, young man who’s socially awkward, but never the less, a peer to them. Yet they didn’t treat him like a peer, and in the end...

Gonta died thinking he was an idiot. A child. A burden who made everything worse for everyone else. They all considered him as a child, and that’s how they saw him even in his final moments.

Gonta throughout the game constantly tries to prove himself, but no one is paying attention. When he learned of the Secret of the Outside World, Gonta didn’t even have anyone else to turn to for help or comfort. His feelings of uselessness compounded by the desperation to prove himself as an equal to everyone else drove him to agreeing to mercy kill the rest of the group... because how else was a stupid, burden of a child supposed to help anyone as he was? Even though he knew killing was wrong, with Kokichi’s plan, he was able to do something “for everyone,” and even that compounded into the ultimate failure.

It’s an unfortunate reality, because had the class treated him as a fellow classmate and peer, this might have been preventable.

Either way, what do you think? Was discussing the unintentional class ableism in depth towards Gonta a bit... too much? I do believe this is the first time I’ve ever done such a post, so you’ll have to forgive me. It’s also been quite a while since I made a proper analysis, hasn’t it? I must be a little rusty...

I will say--please, do not use this post for any discourse regarding the ableism and what have you if you choose to agree with this interpretation. I will not stand for it.

Either way, I hope you at least found this post to be food for thought. See you all next time.

#gonta gokuhara #danganronpa v3 #danganronpa #analysis #theory #character analysis #ableism mention tw #self hatred mention tw

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primrose-path-of-dalliance · 5 years

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i think one of my favorite things about good omens (the tv show), and aziraphale and crowley’s relationship, is how cheesily slow-burn it is. the two of them have been gradually falling in love with each other over 6 millennia of accidental meetings, wiling/thwarting, and clandestine drinks. they’re classic enemies-to-friends-to-lovers: an angel! and a demon!

but good omens the show also has a field day with aziraphale’s apprehensions about the whole thing. from his side of the relationship, aziraphale is continually in flux over whether he really accepts how important crowley is to him.

aziraphale’s development throughout the show is characterized by his ambivalence.

he’s an angel, a servant of god put on earth to do good. that does not include associating with demons on his checklist of holy deeds. repeatedly, aziraphale reasserts his role as the angel, taking shelter behind the straight and narrow that’s expected of him, whenever he feels that that particular sense of his identity is being threatened by his relationship with crowley.

of course, aziraphale then tends to undermine his own assertions.

funnily enough, it’s not the demon trying to play the long game of tempting an angel to fall. it’s the angel playing the long game of dancing the line—trying to maintain the best of both worlds: his identity as an angel, his loyalty to god and heaven; as well as his friendship with crowley.

and let’s be real. crowley has been well-aware of aziraphale’s uncertainty for a long time.

unlike aziraphale, crowley’s not interested in maintaining a healthy allegiance to hell or lucifer in the way that aziraphale continually turns back to heaven, to gabriel, and to god for approval or solutions. he does the bare minimum to keep himself bodily and metaphysically intact—and perhaps glean some personal satisfaction from a job well-done, even if it’s a somewhat malicious job.

after all, the evil deeds that he favors? well...

take hastur and ligur, dukes of hell and model representatives of what the place idealizes. their deeds on the day they deliver the antichrist are tempting a priest with lust and compelling a politician to accept a bribe. hastur gleefully kills a nun and sets a convent on fire, while ligur thinks favorably upon the idea of ripping a person’s right arm off. they’re up close and personal. direct responsibility over the corruption and destruction of individual souls.

crowley doesn’t favor that style. when he corrupts, he doesn’t shove a train off its tracks with his own hands. he creates a highway that radiates waves of general ill will, or shuts down london’s mobile phone network to make everyone just a little bit more irritable. when he acts upon his duties as a demon, crowley doesn’t do any more than any other normal human might encourage as a by-product of living in the same world. his deeds are the equivalent of someone cutting you off in traffic, or your cell signal cutting out from non-occult forces.

he preserves free will. sure, he made your day a bit worse, but really, the only one making the choice of taking that out on the people around you is you.

and don’t ask crowley to kill anyone. because frankly, judging by his distaste for god’s flood, jesus’s crucifixion, being the one to eliminate the antichrist? he’d really rather not.

he gave the paintball competitors real guns but ensured they wouldn’t kill anyone. he set a bucket of holy water on top of his door to kill whichever demon chose to come after him but didn’t put any in his plant mister.

crowley doesn’t have an ounce of real dedication to hell. he was and has only ever been the fallen angel who sauntered vaguely downwards.

so in this, he’s the antithesis to aziraphale’s vacillation. crowley has no ties holding him back from committing fully to a relationship with aziraphale. time and again, crowley is the one who initiates their interactions, who does him favors first, who saves him from discorporation, for no other benefit except companionship. and this frightens aziraphale.

it takes millennia for aziraphale to let down each barrier. and crowley remains patient. he understands his reluctance to leave the welcome arms of heaven behind. even after their 1862 fight in st. james’s park, crowley reappears out of nowhere nearly 80 years later to save aziraphale and his books and rejects the thanks he tries to give. on the day of the apocalypse, aziraphale yells to him that their friendship is over, and crowley still comes back begging him to run away with him to alpha centauri.

but at the same time... crowley refuses to make it easier for aziraphale.

some of his pushback to aziraphale’s generosity can definitely be attributed to difficulties with self-esteem. he’s still done hell’s work, after all, and coming from a place with demotivational posters that are basically depression on paper won’t do wonders for one’s ability to accept compliments.

but being a demon—being a fallen angel—is still central to who crowley is. while he may not hold any loyalty to hell because of it, he’s also not interested in returning to heaven. why would he be, when they cast him down into a pool of boiling sulphur only for asking questions? when they’re just as comfortable as hell with killing innocents and starting wars?

so when the end is nigh, and aziraphale is trying to imply his own solution to saving the both of them...

aziraphale has just gone begging to heaven to put an end to the apocalypse. and they told him no. the war has to be won.

he still doesn’t have the nerve to openly disobey heaven’s commands. and in his certainty that heaven will indeed win if the apocalypse happens, the only option that will allow aziraphale to remain on heaven’s side while preserving crowley’s life is if crowley returns to the host.

this suggestion, though, is not one crowley is willing to take.

a relationship with aziraphale is something crowley deeply values. but he won’t settle for an aziraphale that hasn’t accepted the full ramifications of what that entails—whether it’s the fact that crowley is a demon, full stop, with all the implications therein; or that to love him is reprehensible to heaven.

aziraphale’s blind loyalty to heaven and his relationship with crowley are incompatible, a fact that he’s spent the last 6 millennia ignoring. crowley has been patient, trying to allow aziraphale to come to terms with it in his own time, but aziraphale couldn’t balance the knife’s edge between them forever. as the apocalypse approaches, so too does the conflict in their relationship come to a head.

crowley demands that he make the choice.

and once again, aziraphale chooses heaven’s will over crowley.

it’s only when aziraphale tries to reason with heaven one last time, talking to the voice of god themself, and has utter failure spelled out to him in the sky, that aziraphale finally accepts that heaven has no interest in the compassion and love that he and crowley value so dearly. the choice between heaven and crowley—was never really such a difficult choice after all.

good omens the show is not only a 600k slow-burn between two mortal enemies, it’s a very human tale in which it’s not the demon that struggles with accepting their desire for love and companionship, but the angel. while good omens the book is as fabulous a piece of source material as a show could wish to have, the show is the story that flips the archetypal denial of one’s love on its head. it’s the being of "evil” that offers the outstretched hand and waits patiently for the being of “good” to take it.

aziraphale and crowley face down against their respective superiors together, against lucifer, against holy water and hell fire.

and a nightingale sings in berkeley square.

#good omens #good omens meta #good omens analysis #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #prim post #prim says some things #long post #good omens spoilers #they're queer folks!#no editing; we die like men #(ngl. i really wanted to talk about the bandstand scene. i stan ''bad'' characters who are proud of their badness)#edit 7/4: i made a reblog and added more analysis on aziraphale so please look in the notes!!!

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yggdrasil-mith0s · 3 years

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I need some serious psychological help: Confessions from the blog owner.

Okay, so feel free to ignore this but I feel like I need to get some things off my chest and seriously talk about some things. This blog has been my lifeline over the past few years with my followers becoming my only friends. My best friends. People that genuinely care about me and listen to me. So I feel the need to say some things, let you all know where I am currently at in life, and possibly receive some advice if anyone reads this.

First, let me say I think I have gone through life with undiagnosed AD(H)D. Everytime I am genuinely interested in something career related or getting back into school, I start to get things together. Before I know it, I lose all interest and completely leave it behind, never to follow through. I have a bad problem with this in almost everything I do. It's also why I have 10 different save files in different games and none of which ever get beaten except maybe 1 or 2. I haven't made any significant strides or moved forward in life at all.

Another thing I have come to realize is I hate who I am. No, I don't mean my morals or how I am genuinely empathetic. I mean I have believed I was a straight cisgender male for 3/4s of my life. Being in quarantine has helped me figure out a few things. Mainly that I am Nonbinary and I am Pansexual. I am sure of that now. It's lead to quite the mental breakdown and uncovering bottled emotions and traumas. Others had me convinced I was cisgender male by hateful words, cunning deciet, and manipulating tactics and twisting my mindset into thinking I was wrong for considering anything other than cisgender male. @prideknights had a beautiful submission that basically opened my eyes to how hateful words have caused me to hate myself, for I was forcing an identity that didn't belong to me to satisfy those that wanted to give identities or take them to fit their agenda/beliefs. I fell for it. And it's no wonder I have been dealing with depression, dysphoria (though I didn't understand what it was till someone recently told me "yeah, that's gender dysphoria notbro (They say notbro instead of bro because they are nonbinary and use notbro as a NB way of saying bro lol). So I have dropped he/him pronounces and go by they/them. Still, I am unpacking a lot of trauma and beliefs that aren't my own mixed with those that are mine. I haven't gone completely public with my revelation because of fear and anxiety. I'm not ready to announce it on FB and have family I hardly talk to and other people know. I'm not ready for that in case I receive hate in any way because that's what caused me to suppress myself to begin with.

It's hard to love yourself while hiding the real you deep inside because of what others have said and done. What society does is create a world where people live in their own bubbles and anyone who enters that bubble is expected to follow their rules and beliefs. Eventually, entering enough of other people's bubbles, mostly toxic ones, will shrink yours to the point where nothing belongs to you, not even your gender or lack there of.

My sister's boyfriend recently moved in. He is great to my sister but incredibly abusive to me. I have left hints but my sister hasn't noticed. He is mentally abusive and recently he shoved me really hard. I can't outright tell my sister because she loves him and I'm kind of scared of what he might do if she breaks up with him because of me tbh. So I am trying to move out but have no money or anything to do so. I have found somewhere I can stay but I need a $250 down payment. I have $70. So I still need $180. The abuse is getting worse and worse and I think he knows I am NB now and I believe he is secretly a bigot. Again, I can't say anything and I am scared for both my sister and I. Though he does treat her really great. I think he just might have issues with me. I'm not sure why, though. Maybe he just hates LGBTQ+ people and knows. My sister knows I am Pansexual and I have brought a trans guy I had a crush on over... So yeah. I need to get out while she is dating him.

If anyone wants to help with my downpayment of $180 then you can donate to PayPal.me/yggdrasilmithos

My email for that PP is [email protected].

That isn't necessary, though. I am also in search of a true therapist because I seem to have a lot of issues and things bottled up that I haven't unpacked. I want to know what's wrong with me and why I always lose interest, why I constantly find myself in traumatic experiences even though I try to avoid it. I want to find out what trauma I continue to hide while it still hurts me.

It might help my depression and anxiety to see a good therapist and truly talk to someone and open up completely without holding a single thing back.

Im trying y'all. I truly am. Please hang in there. Soon I will regain my full interest and post a bunch of content again. One thing that has held my interest is this blog, the people involved on this blog that are friends now, and the Tales of series. Though it fluctuates in how often or how much interests I'm currently holding.

Anyways, if anyone has any questions, feel free to ask. Feel free to message me as well. I could use some friends, tbh. I don't have anyone in real life to talk to which is why I confide in this blog.

Also, if anyone donates and would like a post dedicated to you, gifs of some videos or gameplay made then just message me and let me know. I will make content for anyone that wants me to and donates, even if it is a dollar! I will make everyone gifs if their choosing or random Tales content gifs. My Paypal and email is 5 paragraphs up lol.

But it's 100% okay if not. I posted this just to let y'all know where I'm at in life right now.

Edit: I'm hanging on by a thread and had a good cry moments ago which is why I felt the need to post this and share with you all (my friends).

#personal #op #my life #thoughts #lgbtq #nonbinary #pansexual #breaking from old beliefs #finally free of lies i used to tell myself like i was a cisgender straight male #all lies #okay to reblog

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aspenflower17 · 3 years

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Finding You (Part Nine of ??)

Happy Thanksgiving everyone (even if you don’t live in the US)! Here is the update for this week :) This chapter was a little self indulgent. I do talk a tiny bit about music theory and Jane Austen in this chapter. If you have questions about either, just ask and I can try to explain/direct you to some good sources on what I’m talking about 😅

Edit: Totally forgot to mention! The whole Pride and Prejudice HC about Lucifer is not originally mine. I believe I read it on one of the Beel blogs. I think it was @taco-beel :)

For anyone new, here is the link for Part One. I hope you enjoy 😁

Tags for the Lovelies: @simpingforsatan @naimena @hachimochi @wrathandgreed @magi-minminxiii @rensphilia @a-dream-at-night @chloelikesobeyme @getbehindme-satan (If you’d like to be added to the tags list, just message me or comment below!)

Satan/ F!Mc

Trigger Warnings: possibly for depression?

Word Count: 2,322

After Mc shut the door, she slid down the door to the floor, head in her hands. Well, that couldn’t have gone worse. I would’ve rather had him ignore me or not remember me at all. I could’ve figured out how to interact with him in those situations. But what was with him being sweet in the beginning, and then just seizing up? Then he grabbed my wrist and seemed super worried about me leaving and then didn’t even say anything the whole walk?! That goodbye too! What was that?!

The more Mc thought about the whole thing, the more upset she got. She leaned her head back against the door, her brain replaying the beginning of the conversation trying to figure out what had gone wrong. Remembering the look in his eyes as he had fervently declared he remembered her. The warmth of his voice.

Then the progressive unease as she had continued talking until the abrupt emotional cutoff. He had obviously been uninterested in talking with her any longer, though she really couldn’t figure out why. He had been so dismissive. But when I tried to leave… She looked down to the wrist he had grabbed. He sounded so… desperate. Like he truly didn’t want to let me leave. So, why didn’t he talk to me?

“Mc? Are you alright?” Michael asked, stepping into the entrance hall with Diavolo.

“I’m… I’m fine. Diavolo, do you have a music room?” Mc asked, standing up as nonchalantly as she could.

“Yes, of course.”

“Do you have a piano, or similar instrument?”

“Yes…”

“May I use it for the rest of the day? I need to compose.”

“I… Sure. I’ll have Lil’ D No. 2 show you the way,” and as he said that, a small demon appeared and beckoned her forward, and she promptly followed.

“Oh dear,” Michael sighed, eyes following Mc.

“What’s wrong,” Diavolo asked, thoroughly confused by the whole encounter.

“She is definitely not alright. She can only compose when she’s really emotional about something.”

“I… Wait, is she going to let us hear it when she’s done?” Diavolo asked, eyes lighting up.

Mc sat down at the piano. It was an almost pure black grand, and the key colors were reversed, which was messing with her brain visually. The piano bench lid was made from a beautiful dark red wood, the rest the same black as the rest of the piano. The piano did not look worn, but it was obviously old.

Mc started playing her normal warm up scales, but quickly stopped when she realized they didn’t sound right. She tried again with the same result. It’s in minor…

Trying out all the keys, she realized the whole piano was in minor. You could play major chords, but it was like making minor chords on a normal piano. Interesting.

Mc continued playing and getting warmed up, wanting to explore the amazing opportunity that had presented itself. She started playing some of her own creations, marveling at how different her songs sounded. As she was playing, she remembered a song she had abandoned a long time ago. Though it should have sounded correct, she had never been able to make it sound correct. I wonder…

She started playing the song, and was amazed to find just how perfect it sounded. It was the same song, but it now sounded perfect. Encouraged, Mc tried to continue composing, but she couldn’t get past where she had already composed, no matter how much she worked on it. Discouraged and a little frustrated, Mc look at her DDD and was surprised to see it was almost time for dinner.

Standing up, she promised herself she’d come back later, and work on it more.

“I’ve decided to throw a ball in Mc’s honor!”

Michael and Mc looked up from their dinner at the proclamation from Diavolo. Luke seemed unphased by the announcement.

“A ball? In my honor?”

“Yes! You’re my honored guest after all.”

“He also loves throwing balls,” Luke added.

“Also that,” Diavolo admitted.

“Well, I’d be honored. Thank you.”

“Perfect! It’ll be held a week from today. Barbados! Make sure invitations are sent and food is ready.”

“Yes sir,” Mc jumped, not realizing Barbados was in the room, turning around to see him exit. She was starting to notice the butler seemed to be everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

“Is a week too fast?” Mc asked worriedly.

“Nonsense! This is a lot more notice than I usually give if I’m going to be honest,” Diavolo laughed.

“For a whole ball to be planned?”

“Yes! Barbados is one hell of a butler,” Diavolo grinned over his teacup, before taking a sip.

Mc sat in her room and mused over the events of the day. Now that she had calmed down enough to think rationally, she started analyzing Satan’s behavior, and found she really couldn’t make sense of it. Unless he thought I was someone else… Wait. That makes a lot of sense actually. Like not a ton of sense, because he should have realized I wasn’t them before I started talking about meeting him before, but more than anything else I can think of. He may have also been a little… unhinged. He did look like he hadn’t slept in three days…

Satisfied enough that her brain could rest, she snuggled down into her blankets. Every time she closed her eyes however, all she saw was Satan’s face as he had grabbed her wrist. She brought her other hand up to her wrist and grabbed it. Now smiling, she drifted off to sleep.

Mc snorted, shifting a bit as she read. The bed was comfortable, the scent of its owner making her feel safe and comforted. Classes had been long and when the demon that sat behind her had gotten up, they had accidentally hit her in the head with their bag pretty hard, which had made Mammon nearly kill them. She had narrowly saved their life by assuring him it had been an accident and somehow calming her guardian demon down. This then had resulted in her being called into talk with Lucifer about what had happened, and so she had missed her Devildom History course.

She had come to Satan’s room to grab the notes he had thoughtfully taken for her, but when he saw how worn out she was, he had offered a quiet evening of reading and tea. She hadn’t been able to refuse, seeing as how she relished anytime she could get with him. The scent of old books and their caretaker was a surefire way to help her unwind from the day, the stacks of books throughout the room making her feel like they were in their own little world. The outside world glittered in the perpetual darkness through Satan’s large windows.

“What’s so amusing?” Satan asked from the armchair he had moved over by his bed once their reading sessions became a normal occurrence.

“‘We all know him to be a proud, unpleasant sort of man; but this would be nothing if you really liked him’” Mc quoted.

“Ah! ‘You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.’” Satan said, a cheeky grin on his face.

Mc’s brain stopped functioning for a second, “Wai… Wha…?”

“Pride and Prejudice right?”

“Oh, hehe, right,” Mc laughed, trying to hide behind her book as best she could as all the blood rushed to her face, “It’s a good quote.”

“You know, when it came out, there was a rumor going around that Mr. Darcy was based off of Lucifer.”

“Wait… You’re joking.”

“No. He had been spending a lot of time in the human realm. Sometimes we wouldn’t see him for weeks at a time. Then, he just stopped going up as much. About a year later, Pride and Prejudice was released. After the rumor started, Lucifer would not allow it in the house for the longest time. He even went so far as to ask Diavolo not to allow it in the Devildom at all.”

Satan had Mc’s full attention at this point, “What was his excuse?”

“Something about a stupid romance novel ruining his reputation, and how we needed to be the voice of reason for the lower demons if they were going to allow themselves to be so easily swayed to believe the nonsense.”

“You had a copy though, right?”

“Oh, of course I did. I still do actually. First edition. I even went up to the human realm to get it.”

“Wow… That explains so much though. Lucifer is like the epitome of Mr. Darcy.”

Satan shifted in his chair, and looked down at his book, “You think so?”

“Yeah. Tall, dark, handsome,” Mc watched as Satan sunk a bit lower in his chair at each word, seeming to get fairly upset, “Standoffish. Rude. Conceitful. Overbearing.”

“Ah, so you’re not a fan of Mr. Darcy?”

“Hmmm… I wouldn’t say that. He is her most popular leading man for a reason. But…”

“But?” Satan was looking at her now, his eyes probably larger and more insistent than he meant them to be.

“He’s far too prideful in the beginning for me. We probably wouldn’t have gotten anywhere,” Mc watched Satan relax visibly before continuing, “While I enjoy Pride and Prejudice, I’d rather read Sense and Sensibility or Northanger Abbey. I would rather have a Mr. Tilney or possibly even a Colonel Brandon. Someone who I could sit and make jokes with. Someone who would read to me. Someone I could go on adventures with and who could tell me all about this or that because they’re so well read,” Mc was looking down at the cover of the book now, and she could tell her face was heating up, “I’d much rather have someone like that.”

There was silence after Mc stopped talking, and she dared not look up. She’d basically just confessed to Satan, and she hadn’t even meant to. She kinda hoped her words went over his head, but also hoped they didn’t. The silence stretched longer than Mc would’ve liked before the bed shifted.

There was another few moments of silence before Satan spoke, a bit haltingly, “Mc, will you look at me? Please?”

Mc lifted her eyes shyly looking a little sheepish. She only had a moment of Satan’s shocked look before there was a flash of gold and his lips were on hers. She was so shocked she couldn’t respond for a second, but then she returned the kiss, melting as her body was on fire. Completely focused on the moment while soaring through the clouds. Perfect. It was perfect.

Mc came back to consciousness, her alarm playing soft piano music. She reached out her arms grasping. Searching. Coming up empty, she cracked an eye open, disappointment flooding her body when all she saw was her own arms. Her vision blurred as a strong wave of loneliness washed over her. She blinked a couple times to clear away her tears, feeling them slide down her face. She had had mornings like this in the Celestial Realm, though this was the first time she had remembered the dream that preceded it. She hadn’t really felt lonely since coming to the Devildom, and hadn’t registered it. Now though, it felt debilitating. She sent a text to Luke explaining she probably wouldn’t be down for breakfast and asking him to apologize to everyone for her. She then turned on some soft music, and dropped her DDD on the bed.

She lay quietly, the tears falling openly. This is what she had to do those terrible mornings in the Celestial Realm when she felt like she couldn’t face the day. Eventually her tears gave out, and she was left with an apathetic empty feeling. She continued laying in bed, not remembering a bout this bad in any recent history. After a while, she drifted off to sleep again.

“Hey. You awake?”

Mc groaned, sore from not moving in awhile, “Is that you Luke?”

“Yeah. I got a bit worried when you also missed lunch. You okay?”

“I think I’m okay now. I just got a bit too upset this morning.”

“Are you sure? I can tell Michael you’re caught up in an artistic frenzy or something.”

“Nah. Thanks though,” Mc smiled, still sleepy.

“Okay. As long as you're okay,” Luke was looking at her worriedly, but leaning down and kissing her forehead anyways, “I’ll make sure some lunch gets saved for you.”

“Thanks Luke,” Mc sighed, sitting up.

“Anything for my little sister.”

Over the next week, Mc continued trying to work on her song, though she didn’t get any further, along with her other art. She also read all about the Devildom’s history and visited some historically significant locations to put a name to a place. The whole time, her mind worked on the enigma that was her dream. She supposed it was a product of her brain trying to work through the disappointment of how her first meeting with Satan went, along with how active she had been since coming down to the Devildom. She tried to convince herself of this anyways. The truth was, it felt exactly like she was reliving a memory. It felt real, and nothing about it had been weird, all details clear, nothing out of place. It even felt familiar, she’d even go so far as to say worn, like some of her favorite memories did.

She blushed even thinking about the dream, clearly recalling the warmth and softness of his lips. The feeling of his hand on the back of her neck....

“Mc, are you almost ready,” Luke called from the other side of the door.

“Give me a couple more minutes. I’ll be down soon.”

“Okay. The guests are starting to arrive.”

“Sounds good. Thanks for letting me know,” Mc took one last look at herself in the mirror before nodding and getting up, “Let’s do this.”

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Thanks for reading! Like, comments and reblogs are appreciated! I love discussing Obey Me so feel free to chat with me 😁

Part Ten

#obey me!#OBEY ME #obey me satan #obey me satan/reader #obey me! swd #obey me f!mc #obey me luke #obey me diavolo #obey me michael #obey me mc

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