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jr4de · 7 years

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Tagged by @genderfluidintake (holy cow a thingy! I was practically confused when I saw something in my activity log, heh :D)

1ST RULE: Tag 9 people you would like to know better

2ND RULE: BOLD the statements that are true

APPEARANCE:

I am 5'7" or taller

I wear glasses

I have at least one tattoo (Nope, but I’d be happy to get one, I just haven’t)

I have at least one piercing (Nope, but I’d be happy to, I just haven’t. Lots of people think I used to have an eyebrow piercing because I have a scar there)

I have blonde hair (Nope, brown!)

I have brown eyes (Nope, kinda slate-y blue)

I have short hair (Can I like... opposite-bold this one? Because it’s so long and beautiful and I love it)

My abs are at least somewhat defined (because I’m skinny af so you can just see all my muscles)

I have or have had braces (past tense)

PERSONALITY:

I love meeting new people

People tell me that I’m funny

Helping others with their problems is a big priority for me

I enjoy physical challenges

I enjoy mental challenges

I’m playfully rude with people I know well (uuhhhhh that’s a long story but I guess suffice to say I often forget myself and try to be? And then it all goes wrong when I cross a line I didn’t know existed to begin with, heh. With time it seems like it might be getting better? Although it always seems like it’s getting better until it suddenly runs aground again, heh)

I started saying something ironically and now I can’t stop saying it

There is something I would change about my personality (Hmm. If this isn’t a question I’ve lost a lot of sleep over, I don’t know what is - but I think I’ve settled on “not”? Depending on what one counts as a personality, of course, but hey)

ABILITY:

I can sing well (I think so, at least! I was in vocal jazz for a few years and it went pretty well :D)

I can play an instrument (Alto Saxophone! Or really basic guitar but I don’t know chords or fingering or tabs, I just pluck at it until it makes the right note and then I remember it and move on to the next note, and keep going until I know a song. Heh yeah it’s a shittily slow way to learn :D but I managed Sunshine of Your Love? So that’s cool!)

I can do over 30 pushups without stopping (thanks to my time in a paramilitary organization, yes! My record remains 107 at a stretch as far as I can recall, although those were admittedly not cadenced and called so that’s not as impressive.)

I’m a fast runner (I loves me some sprinting, and marathon stuff is fun too! Treadmills=bestmills or something)

I can draw well (Ehh? Decently, I think - I had a webcomic that was decently popular, but art was never its strong suit. Still, I think I can definitely draw *decently*, but not *well*)

I have a good memory (for useless things. Not like, birthdays - but I’ll remember that one time you said you like lavender more than lilac. Of course, I’ll also remember it even once your preferences have changed, or if you misspoke in the first place, heh >.>)

I’m good at doing math in my head (Define “good” and “math” but yeah probably. I cannot estimate a number of items for shit - if there are fewer than eight but more than two, I say five; otherwise it’s just a crapshoot - but I can math, regardless!)

I can hold my breath underwater for over a minute (Well, I could last time I checked. I didn’t try today, so...)

I have beaten at least 2 people in arm wrestling (yeah but I mean some of my friends have been like really tiny, folks. I’ve also lost to like fifty :D)

I know how to cook at least 3 meals from scratch (chicken sandwich, ham sandwich, baloney sandwich, done. Heh, nah, just kidding - I make a burger I call the Nutty Jerk; it’s beef and chunky peanut butter for the patty, with Jerk spice mixed in, topped with a slice of orange and a small dollop of smooth peanut butter on top of the patty that melts over it. I really like it, it’s tasty!)

I know how to throw a proper punch (Technically, two of them - boxing through personal training, Shotokan Karate through my marvellous black-belt wife :D)

HOBBIES:

I enjoy playing sports (but don’t conflate that enjoyment with skill >.>)

I’m on a sports team at my school or somewhere else

I’m in an orchestra or choir at my school or somewhere else (Past tense? I was in one)

I have learned a new song in the past week (I mean, I looked up lyrics that I didn’t know and now I sing them when the song comes on, so...?)

I work out at least once a week

I’ve gone for runs at least once a week in the warmer months

I have drawn something in the past month

I enjoy writing (so much. So so much.)

FANDOMS ARE MY #1 PASSION

I do or have done martial arts (for like a year and then they wouldn’t let me break the boards because I was too little and that was sad. I learned way more from my wife)

EXPERIENCES:

I have had my first kiss (and my second! And third, and fourth, etc.)

I have had alcohol (Heck, I had some today! If you ever see a white Reisling from Germany, imported, in a black bottle shaped like a cat? Give it a shot - it was delicious; light and fruity and surprisingly sweet, but not quite to icewine levels)

I have scored the winning goal in a sports game (my sportsball matches were rarely winning ones, be it soccer or lacrosse. It’s likely I have, but I can’t recall for certain.)

I have watched an entire season of a TV show in one sitting (I mean, it’s not hard with Firefly, it only takes like three hours >.>)

I have been at an overnight event (what, like a sleepover? I think, no matter what, the answer’s yes)

I have been in a taxi

I have been in the hospital or ER in the past year (Thankfully, no! Maybe I’ve broken my streak! For a while there I was averaging out to once every two years, which some people might suggest is pretty frequent.)

I have beaten a video game in one day (Uh...don’t think so? Maybe.)

I have visited another country (Several!)

I have been to one of my favorite band’s concerts (Arrogant Worms, Barenaked Ladies, Blue Man Group, Tragically Hip - not in that order, per se, but I loved and love them absolutely.)

RELATIONSHIPS:

I’m in a relationship

I have a crush on a celebrity (Uhhh... define crush I guess? I think there are lots who seem like really cool folks, and pretty, but I don’t know if that counts. Sorry, attraction’s always been an odd one for me to discuss, heh)

I have a crush on someone I know (again as above? But I think I’m safe in saying there’s a yes here. Pretty sure if you and your wife have discussed stuff like that it probably counts as a crush, eh?”

I have been in at least 3 relationships (not unless the definition of “relationship” is very different to what I expect)

I have never been in a relationship

I have asked someone out or admitted my feelings to them (I’ve done both! It’s gone multiple ways :D)

I get crushes easily (???? I don’t know? Crushes? I think people are great and cute easily. Or maybe I love them? I don’t know!)

I have had a crush on someone for over a year (crushes?? Ahhh it’s all about crushes and I don’t know, but I’ve liked someone for more than a year? So I’d say it counts. Probably just overthinking it as per normal, heh >.>)

I have been in a relationship for at least a year

I have had feelings for a friend

MY LIFE:

I have at least one person I consider a “best friend” (more than one, even if we haven’t talked recently - but that’s indicative, to me. Sometimes we won’t talk for a year but then when we do, it’s comfortable and wonderful all over again. That’s how I know :D)

I live close to my school (I live close to the empty lot where my school used to be when I went there and it still existed? Also near my old Elementary school. I don’t live near my post-secondary stuff, that’s on the mainland)

My parents are still together

I have at least one sibling

I live in the United States

There is snow right now where I live

I have hung out with a friend in the past month (we went bicycling!)

I have a smartphone (now, although it took me a long time. My dad literally bought one for me while I was at work, heh >.>)

I have at least 15 CDs

I share my room with someone (I share everything with her! She’s great!)

RANDOM SHIT:

I have breakdanced (took Ukrainian dancing when I was a kid, and there’s a move called “the Coffee Grinder” [or at least that’s what they called it for us heh] that’s pretty much a breakdancing move, and I’ve pulled it out on a few occasions. It’s like, eighties breakdancing, but hey I think it counts)

I know a person named Jamie

I have had a teacher with a last name that’s hard to pronounce

I have dyed my hair

I’m listening to one song on repeat right now (nope, a whole playlist on repeat! Fad Gadget, A1 people, Art Vs Science, Shiny Toy Guns, Pendulum, Barenaked Ladies, Arctic Monkey, Kristin Andreassen, MIKA, Maximo Park, and uh... I think another one or two but I can’t remember. Heh.)

I have punched someone in the past week

I know someone who has gone to jail

I have broken a bone (really big! Broke a few, actually - hairline fracture, three bones in my right foot; spiral fracture of the left femur that nearly took my life, but I made it through! And now I have some metal rods that used to be in my bones, so that’s cool :D)

I have eaten a waffle today

I know what I want to do with my life (I know about a million things I want to do with it, heh >.> That’s not the hard part <.<)

I speak at least 2 languages (I think my conversational decency in French would count? I’m not nearly fluent, but I’d say I speak it - more than enough to get around town, certainly. Enough to talk over letters or in a slow conversation, but not enough to watch an action flick, heh)

I have made a new friend in the past year

Uh... tagging people. Yeah, that’s a little bit anxiety-inducing, so I’m just gonna pass on that? Sorry, I know it’s not playing by the rules and that kinda sucks but I honestly wouldn’t know where to start, heh, but anybody can do it if they want and say I tagged them! Thanks, it was fun!

#Info #Wow! A thingy!#This was fun and totally unexpected :D #Also I'm kinda a bit of a wreck maybe heh but it's all good :D #Sorry for not tagging anyone I feel legitimately guilty about that

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matan4il · 3 years

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Hi. Do not panic, I still haven't binged your meta, work was hell today. But while working, it came to my mind this totally crazy idea, probably thanks to my migraine, and I need to get it out of my system. So please, humor me and maybe try to tell me if I'm totally high on Buddie or if it could be. Sorry if it'll take more than one ask. So, we know Eddie quits because, he says (still haven't finished the rewatch but), he can't let Chris alone if he dies on the line of duty. Totally true and legitimate and understandable. But. Let's talk about THAT promo. Is that really THIS Eddie's fear? We know that if he died, Buck would become Chris's guardian, and Buck is a second dad to Chris. So, hypothetically, what if Eddie wasn't afraid of his own death....but more about Buck's?! We know, HE KNOWS, how Buck reacts whenever Eddie's life is in danger. We all knows Buck thinks he's expendable. In order to save Eddie, he was ready to jump inside an inferno during the blackout, inside a flooded and collapsing well during the storm, on the line of fire of a sniper (if he hadn't been pulled down who knows what reckless thing he would've done), and if it hadn't been for Eddie's collected lucidity during the kidnapping, he would've got himself killed. Buck is ready to die, without even thinking, just out of instinct, to protect Eddie. He feels guilty for not having protected him. Eddie knows this, he's sure that one day or the other Buck won't be stopped by Bobby or anyone...and what if he thought that, by keeping his job as Buck's partner, he was putting BUCK'S LIFE in danger? So he quits also because he doesn't want BUCK to die in order to protect Eddie's life?

Hi hon! Awww, please don't worry one bit about it, or think that you can't send asks before. I'm glad you sent this one! *hugs*

And honestly, I wanna frame what you wrote about Buck and how willing he is to die for Eddie and hang it on the wall, it's so spot on!

I do think Eddie is first of all concerned about dying himself in the line of duty, because Chris has already lost one parent, and so Eddie knows that the fact he's still there doesn't erase his son's pain or grief or nightmares. And Chris did express SO MUCH ANXIETY specifically over Eddie dying. If Eddie does, even though Chris would have Buck, he will still have to live with the weight of this double trauma. Eddie knows a thing or two about how difficult that is...

But I do think you're right, that Eddie heard Buck saying that Buck would have preferred to die himself in Eddie's place, saw Buck being reckless over merely the mention of Christopher's name, and this added to Eddie's sense of guilt. After all, he vowed to have Buck's back, but Buck vowed to do the same thing for him, and the events of 413 on made it clear to Eddie... that might spell Buck actually dying for him. It's just a lot of guilt compounding from all directions, and it makes sense that Eddie just... broke and decided to leave, to avoid either scenario materializing.

Thank you again for the ask! Hope you're having a great day! And wasn’t that trailer just absolutely delicious? I’ve been saying for months that I’m excited for season 5b, and now I’m looking forward to it even more! xoxox

And if you or anyone else are looking for other replies of mine, you can find them in my ask tag. xoxox

#buddie #911meta #buddie meta #911 meta #9-1-1 #evan buck buckley #evan buckley #eddie diaz #edmundo diaz #christopher diaz #ask #trickster-archangel #911 spoilers #911 speculation #911onabc #911 on abc #911abc #911 abc

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iamanartichoke · 3 years

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[please blacklist spoiler tags: #loki tv series spoilers, #loki series spoilers, #loki spoilers]

I know I have missed a lot of people’s takes and reactions, there’s just - there’s so many. So I’m sorry if I’m inadvertantly repeating anyone or whatnot when I proceed to make my own posts.

Cut for length and spoilers.

Which is a segue into - I feel legitimately concerned, based on how many people are reading the TVA as being the moral authority and/or being on Loki’s side, and Mobius Dick’s interrogation being therapeutic for Loki (and how gross that is), along with an emphasis on ooc-ness for Loki and just overall cracks and fractures in the (what I thought was a) more or less solid episode -

I feel legitimately concerned that I may have wildly misinterpreted, like, everything, up to and including Loki’s characterization. And it’s actually kind of hilarious bc like -

Me: All opinions and interpretations are valid! No worries! Also I’m open-minded! Also I have no issue admitting I’m wrong!

Also me: *feels physically ill at the idea that my interpretation is so very wrong*

I’m not even lying, guys, my stomach is in knots. And I guess it’s because, like - I thought that it was pretty straightforward that the TVA are the antagonists here?? That Mobius isn’t Loki’s friend - he’s Loki’s interrogator and handler bc he needs Loki for his own purposes. That the “single sacred timeline” is not only nonsensical but also kinda fucked up (as Loki rightfully points out).

Like I’m watching these scenes and it doesn’t even occur to me to take the TVA’s word as the correct one here. Why would I? I’m taking Loki’s word as the correct one - Loki, the one who’s calling out everything that is stupid and ridiculous about the concept of the Timekeepers and the TVA, the one who is being scape-goated and is aware of it.

To touch on the ooc-ness of Loki - I mean, the first half of the episode was cringey and ooc, yeah; Loki was too over-the-top and the “comedic” tone didn’t quite land (I’m honestly wondering if Tom’s just not good at comedy? I mean, Betrayal was a genuinely funny play (and heartwrenching) but besides that, I can’t think of anything really comedic that he’s done.) but I’m willing to overlook that because when we got into the second half of the episode, he began to feel much more like the Loki I love.

Historically, Loki has consistently been the one to see the truth for what it really is and either saying or doing something about it. He actively tries to delay Thor’s coronation because he recognizes, when no one else does, that Thor is not ready to be king. He knows that Odin isn’t as righteous and wise as he pretends to be (and, in fact, he knows that Odin is guilty of more than Loki could ever be, and he calls that out too). He sees SHIELD as the farce it is (and possibly knows Hydra has infiltrated it; I headcanon that he knew but just didn’t care bc why would he?), and he sees Earth and the humans in a much more accurate light than Thor could hope to. You lie and kill in the service of liars and killers; the humans slaughter each other in droves while you idly fret. Etc. Here, it’s the clowns are playing their parts to perfection (that’s the only quote I can remember right now).

And I mean, yeah, the narrative has never acknowledged that Loki is right about everything. It’s a huge source of frustration for me bc the narrative continues to be so black-and-white about heroes and villains and, being villain-coded, Loki doesn’t get to be validated no matter how right he is.

But I don’t think that’s the case here. I think, as the protagonist, his word holds a bit more weight. It should, at least, and I personally didn’t see anything that made me think that we shouldn’t consider Loki the authoritative voice in all of this. Loki, not the TVA.

Mobius’s interrogation? Was very clearly cruel and fucked up, to me. The sham of a fake ass trial that Loki had to endure, with the implication being that no one who stands trial is actually getting a fair trial bc the TVA has no intention of judging anyone not guilty? Fucked up, with horrifying implications. The process of deleting people from existence being literally as detached and soulless as a trip to the DMV (complete with tickets!)? Very disturbing. Like, none of these things are the traits that I would look at and say, hmm, yeah, these guys seem legit and totally correct about everything, too bad for Loki.

And Loki’s reactions to Mobius - his frustration, his defiance, and his eventual emotional breakdown (which we only saw when Loki was completely alone) all felt accurate to me. Again, there were a lot of over the top aspects of Tom’s performance here but I think what makes me more willing to overlook them is that, in general, we’re getting a more animated Loki than we’ve gotten to see him before, in a way that feels true to him as opposed to whatever was going on with him in Ragnarok.

He’s not in the middle of a mental breakdown/identity crisis. He’s not being mind-controlled anymore (or influenced). He’s not being villain-coded while Thor is propped up as the hero and the ideal which, to me, means that we are actually getting to see Loki’s personality when all of that is taken away and the only thing he’s got left is himself. It’s a really shitty situation and I hate that he’s in it, but after the initial exaggerated reactions, his response to it worked for me.

So - yeah. And now I’m like, biting my nails and my stomach is in knots bc I thought I knew Loki and I had a comfortable idea of Loki, and I thought I was more or less decent at interpreting things - but, so, clearly there were things happening and being picked up on that just whooshed right over my head bc it never occurred to me to be on the lookout for them in the first place. Does that make sense? I don’t even know what I’m saying.

Just - I am really, really doubting my own perception of what this series is attempting to do with Loki and it does not feel good at all. So I guess ultimately I am not capable of putting my money where my mouth is and treating all interpretations as valid, when it comes to myself. (I didn’t realize I was that far up my own ass so as to speak confidently about validity while telling myself that my idea is pretty correct.) Soo there we are.

Idk if I even want to post this but it’s time for me to clock out now so, for better or for worse, *hits post button*

#sorry this is rambly and i need to make it clear i am in no way #taking issue with anyone else's takes or opinions or feelings #i am more or less just saying that i'm doubting *my* takes and opinions and feelings #and i don't like how it feels #that's all #please don't @ me #loki tv series spoilers #loki series spoilers #loki spoilers #loki series meta

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chilling-in-the-dark · 4 years

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The Superfam as Yandere’s Part 1: Clark Kent

This is a yandere story; it mentions elements of obsession, possessiveness, death, murder, kidnapping, and physical abuse. If any of this is triggering for you, I understand, and you don’t have to read it.

*Suicide Warning*

As Always Feedback is Welcome

Clark always wondered about the hand print on his chest, his parents said it was a birthmark, but Clark always thought that it was more. Growing up, he’d find himself staring at it, wondering what it meant because it just had to mean something, it had to.

Once Clark found out about where he was from, suddenly it made a lot more sense. Jor-El had explained that on Krypton, it would be used to identify one’s life mate or to use earth terminology, a soulmate, the person whom he’d spend the rest of his life with. It’d be the first place that they’d touch him.

Not the first place he’d touch them mind you, Jor-El had made that distinction clear, on Krypton it wouldn’t have mattered much, but on earth, it would make all the difference. Humans didn’t have pre-determined mates; they wouldn’t have the same instant connection. Clark supposed he could live with that, he’d just have to build a relationship with them the human way.

At least until he’d pulled you from a burning building, many people over the years had placed their hands over his mark while flying, but it hadn’t felt like this before, searing pain followed by soothing coolness, and even if Jor-El hadn’t explained it to him, Clark would have known you were his on the spot.

Everything in him vibrated with the need to make you his, to claim you. On Krypton, this wouldn’t have been a problem; his mate would have felt the same, but here on earth, relationships had to be built. Once you were safely back on the ground, it took more strength than Clark thought he possessed to release you, and it took even more strength to keep from frying the EMT, who wrapped a blanket around your shoulders.

As you watched superman fly off, you had no idea how much your life was going to change, and how badly you’d wish it didn’t.

Clark had thought he’d have more control then what he did, as it turns out it was harder to fight his Kryptonian instincts than he’d realized. At first, he’d settled for watching you, his periscopic and x-ray vision making this an easy task. Some days when he was feeling extraordinarily brave, he’d sneak into your apartment and just be surrounded by your life.

While Clark was there, he’d decided to use his time to find out whatever he could about you; that way, when the two of you got married, he could have everything on the farm perfect. His mother would have been so happy to meet you, but she’d passed away last year and would never get the chance to.

Clark shook off the sadness that thought brought; he’d found his soulmate he needed everything to be absolutely perfect for your first meeting, but before that, he’d have to get rid of that waste of space you called a husband.

After the man died in what the police would rule a tragic accident, you’d start going to a grief counseling group, one that Clark would take full advantage in joining, the death of his mother was still a fresh wound, after all, this would be a way to kill two birds with one stone.

Clark had just started talking about how his parents met, his father was getting his degree in agriculture, and his mother had been going to law school because of her parents wishes. Some man in a fancy suit interrupted Clark to say, “You can get a degree in farming.” In the most condescending tone, Clark had ever heard.

Clark was about to say something when you chimed in, “You’re the kind of person who thinks you can plant corn in the same soil every year, and it’ll be perfectly fine, aren’t you? Well, jokes on you, there’s some legitimate science that goes into farming.” The group counselor got everything back on track after that, Clark finished his story about his parents

When the group was over, you’d came up to him and started talking, “I’m sorry about Robert he can be a real jerk sometimes, but he’s lost someone just like the rest of us. I shouldn’t have lost my temper with him honestly,” You said, rubbing the back of your neck nervously.

Clark remembered the man’s story. It had been just over a year ago when his little sister who’d been attending Central City University had called him really freaked out and said she was coming back to Metropolis but on her way she’d died in a tragic car accident. The girl’s body had been so charred that they could only identify her by a necklace her brother had given her.

Clark thought it sounded similar to the story of how Barry brought his wife home, just a much more gruesome version, really all Flash had done was liberate the girl from years of unnecessary struggle. What really was the point in getting her doctorate when the young little thing wasn’t going to be able to use it anyways. Berry had been taking excellent care of her; she was even about to give birth to their first child soon. Clark still thought it was a bit too early for that, Berry’s wife had yet had time to properly adjust to married life, but who was he to judge.

What did it matter anyway when her brother had given Clark the perfect point to insert himself into your life? Over the next year, the two of you got to know each other better, and Clark couldn’t be happier, at least he thought so until one day when you’d kissed him.

The rain had suddenly just started pouring down, and the two of you were hiding under an awning of a local café, giggling like mad, and then you grabbed onto his tie and pulled him down to your level. When you pressed your lips against his, Clarks heart soared. Clark wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you right up against him with strength you didn’t know he possessed. You smiled against his lips, happy for the first time since your husband died. If only you knew where this would end.

Three months later, he pulled you onto a rooftop, removed his glasses, and jumped off the edge. “Clark,” you’d screamed as you started running over to where he ledge, only to have him land in front of you. “You’re,” You gulped.

“Superman,” Clark said finishing your sentence. You ran like hell, you cared for Clark, and you were grateful to superman, who was well apparently also Clark, but you couldn’t lose anyone else like you had your husband. So, you decided to lose Clark now, while he was still alive, and your heart would only ache because of a breakup and not a funeral.

You cried yourself to sleep that night.

You woke up in a strange place to the sound of a rooster crowing, you felt your heart in your throat, and then Clark walked in and started acting like you’d been married for years and refusing to acknowledge when you’d tried talking sense into him.

You’d learned to play along, but he’d never truly broke you, and years later, a few days before Jon was five, you ran as fast and far as you could. Part of you felt guilty for leaving Jon behind, but he was just like his father; you could see it already.

You knew you couldn’t run forever, so somehow, you’d ended up standing in front of the hall of Justice waiting for the league. It was a dumb plan, who would even know if they’d believe you, but they couldn’t approve of Clark kidnaping a woman and forcing her to have a kid.

You’d been relieved when batman brought you back into the members-only part of the hall, they believed you or were at least taking your allegations seriously. You didn’t realize what a mistake it would be to go to Clark’s friends until Bruce stabbed you in the neck with a tranquilizer.

You wanted to cry when you woke up tied to a support beam in the Kent farms storm cellar. You’d been so close to freedom, why did you think that the Justice League didn’t know about you.

Clark came down into the cellar later that night with dinner in tow, and when he asked you why you ran away, you spit in his face, you were done playing the docile little housewife. For years you’d bent to this man’s will even having a child you didn’t want, well no more.

Clark didn’t bring you food for three days after that, and in those days, the only reason Clark came down was to let you use the bucket in the corner he’d been calling your bathroom, still you’d held firm. You’d lost track of time, but after nearly two years had passed in that damn cellar, you spotted it hiding in the corner.

A rusty knife lay buried under buckets of what was probably the lead paint Clark had used to make sure Jon couldn’t see in here. You’d been fraying your ropes against the beam since Clark had brought you breakfast, and once it was a hair away from braking, you waited until you were sure Clark wasn’t coming back for a while.

Once you were sure, Clark wasn’t going to come back; you snapped your rope and ran over to the knife. No matter how heavy the blade felt in your hand, you were under no illusions of being able to take down superman. If you couldn’t have your freedom by running away, you’d take it another way, you thought as you closed your eyes and pressed the blade to your throat.

When Clark came back to the cellar with your dinner, he couldn’t believe what he saw, his soulmate was lifelessly laying on the floor surrounded by her own blood.

Tags:

@yanderepeterparker

@idkmanicantenglish

@prettyafghan (If You want to be tagged let me know by filling out the form in my bio)

#Yandere DC #yandere dc comics #yandere clark kent #Yandere superman #Dark clark kent #darkfic #dark superman #dark dc #clark kent #superman #yandere x reader #x reader #reader insert #dark x reader #dark reader insert #Dark DC Comics #The Superfam as Yandere’s #CITD writes

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love-dreams · 4 years

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pairing: hoshi x fem!reader

content: based off of the netflix show, the queen’s gambit, with different character names (check the masterlist!) - please note the original time period means lots of racism and sexism; adoption; drug misuse; anxiety and stress

wc: 5,897

note: this took awhile to finish, but i have a feeling that this will turn out to be a trilogy! hoshi and y/n finally are crossing paths next chapter :)) please let me know if you’d like to be tagged! HAPPY NEW YEARS YALL

recap: (Y/N) is a genius prodigy chess player who learned from Mr. Jihoon Lee, the orphanage janitor. The orphanage, Methuen, feeds the girls tranquilizers that help (Y/N) hallucinate chess moves. This allows her to “play inside her head.” At the end of the last chapter, (Y/N) had broken into the cafeteria’s storage and overdosed on drugs.

the queen’s gambit masterlist: 1 2

Soapy water dripped off the mop’s wool locks to the cold, cement floor, leaving a bubbly wet trail on the floor. You cautiously avoided the reflected areas.

“Mr. Lee?” you meekly greeted. Your voice was low and hesitant as you inched toward his stout, hunched over figure. He kept on mopping, seemingly paying no attention to you. “I can’t play chess anymore. Kim said so.”

He paused for a moment, turning his head toward her. His cold eyes raked over your figure, but Mr. Lee still didn’t respond, choosing instead to return his attention back to cleaning the floor.

Your chest tightened in remorse from your actions, but eventually, you took the hint and walked back to the moving train of students, disappearing into the masses.

That would be the last time you and Mr. Lee ever spoke.

Soonyoung remembered when he first played against the country’s champion.

His name was Yoon Jeonghan.

At the time, Soonyoung was still in high school, and Jeonghan was twice his age. He still looked as young as Soonyoung did, though, he noted sullenly. His younger step-brother, Chan, idolized Jeonghan, and for good measure. He was the undefeated champion for three consecutive years.

They played at the eye of a hurricane of onlookers. Reporters weren’t allowed to take photos, in fear of disturbing the duo chess players, but Soonyoung wouldn’t have heard the shutters snapping anyway.

The rush of blood to his head would have drowned out anything else.

The first time Soonyoung played Jeonghan, he lost. Quite terribly, he remembers, but Chan assures him it was a close game.

All he could remember was Jeonghan’s poise. His confidence. It radiated from him and into the fingers that moved his pieces. His intellect was far superior to Soonyoung’s at the time, honed by years of experience and studying. To Soonyoung, it felt like playing in front of a god, someone who was on a completely different level.

It was awe-inspiring.

Soonyoung played him two more times in two years. And then he won him in the third.

In the middle of the day, seemingly out of nowhere, Mr. Jun interrupted your class, calling for you to follow him. Everyone in the classroom, including the teacher, stared at you expectantly.

It’s not like you had any other choice.

Your heart rate gathered speed as Mr. Jun motioned for you at the doorway of the office. You cautiously ambled through the narrow hallway until you caught sight of two other people. One male, and one female.

“Mr. and Mrs. Park, this is (Y/N)!” You had never heard the Headmaster’s voice sound so friendly. You almost reeled back in shock at her change in tone and demeanor. What a joke... you thought darkly.

The two adults turned to face her. “Yes, (Y/N) is thirteen years old,” Headmaster Kim paused for affirmation glaring straight into your eyes.

“Actually, I’m fiftee-” you trailed off, seeing the expression on Kim’s face. You cleared your throat to cough over your previous sentence, straightening up your back. “Yes, I’m thirteen. I’m thirteen years old.”

Kim smiled and the foreign scene caused you to shiver. If you found Headmaster Kim’s punishments scary before, you found her act of friendliness simply unnerving. “(Y/N) is at the top of her class in English, reading, and geography. She also assists with the local chapel.” You nodded along. “(Y/N) truly is the model Methuen girl.”

You let your face be effortlessly played by your puppet master, painting on an innocent smile and crossing your hands formally. The woman, Mrs. Park, had a bright smile on her face that made you feel automatically welcomed and safe. The man, on the other hand, refused to even look at you. He had a newspaper outstretched in front of him, and his aura was just as cold as Headmaster Kim’s.

The two opposites puzzled you, but you tried to keep your thoughts from showing on your face. You let your eyes take small peeks down at the couple as you continued to stand trough their talking.

After what seemed like hours of negotiations and paperwork being passed from one person to another, Headmaster Kim finally let you go. You waited patiently outside the office, saying small greetings to the students passing you in the hallway. Just as you were trying to figure out what to make of the couple, the Headmaster, followed by the duo exited the office.

You watched as they walked straight through the doors and to the car parked on the driveway in astonishment before noticing the tall figure walking toward her.

Suddenly, you realized that the hall outside the cafeteria was deserted, except for you. Everyone else was inside, enjoying themselves.

Headmaster Kim bent down slightly so her face was closer to yours. You withheld the urge to flee on sight and retch in front of her.

“You should go pack.”

“You know it’s highly irregular for someone to be armed with a knife regularly, you know?”

“I have it for self-defense.”

“Against who?”

“Anyone.”

“You’re crazy, Soons. That’s not a legitimate answer.”

He shrugged. “I like control, like on the chess board. Having this knife with me is part of that, I guess.”

“So you’re a control freak.”

Soonyoung laughed, touching your shoulder gently. “I guess I am.”

That night was the same as all the ones before it. The sky was dark and so was the room. It felt too quiet to you, like there was an absence of something. The other Methuen girls hadn’t finished with class yet, but Kim had dismissed you early from school, not that you were complaining about that.

It might’ve been the one nice thing she’d done for you.

You found Ruth in her adjacent bed, lying on her side. From the way she was acting, you’d guess that she hadn’t gone to class all day.

You set your open suitcase on the wrinkled bed sheets and started to fold all of your clothes with moderate care. You packed your shirts, your skirts, and of course, your chess books. The latter being the most important possession you ever owned.

You ran a fingertip down the old spine of the book lovingly, creasing over any parts that were starting to jut out. You did this to every single book, running your own hands over the letters imprinted onto the leather

Slowly, the stack of books shrank until one last book was sitting on your bed. Your heart erupted into anxiety as you started to shuffle through your stacked clothes, opening all the drawers in the small bedside table.

“Have you seen my book?” you asked impatiently, panic slowly dripping into your voice.

Ruth cracked open one brown, chocolate eye, huffing as she pushed herself up. “Which book, cracker? You’ve got a dozen of ‘em.”

Your fists clenched in stress. “Modern Chess Openings, have you seen it?” you clipped, short and curt.

“Now don’t you go accusing me,” Ruth snipped back in annoyance. “I ain’t got any use for no book like that.” You sighed in defeat, letting your hands go loose. “Plus,” Ruth added. “You don’t need a book to play anyway.”

Your eyes dropped in shame to the ground, diverting your gaze. Your heart felt heavy all of a sudden: guilty. You hesitantly seated yourself beside Ruth’s still figure, letting your hand rest on top of your friend’s hip.

“You know, I’m sorry.”

Ruth scoffed, but you could hear the raw huskiness of her voice. “Sorry for what?”

“That nobody wanted to adopt you,” you replied.

Your friend didn’t respond for a few moments.

“No one wants to adopt a black kid as old as me anyway,” Ruth finally said.

“If you ever have kids, do you think they’d have to learn chess?”

“Well, I already have a kid and he plays just fine! Not as good as me, I guess, but he’s alright.”

Chan looked over his hamburger, cheeks slightly rounded as he chewed. “Wait, who is it?”

“I think you mean ‘who is he,’ right?”

Chan rolled his eyes and swallowed. “Yes.”

Soonyoung winked and rummaged through his coat pocket. “I think I have a picture of him somewhere...”

Chan craned his neck and body to see the small, pixelated picture on his cell phone.

“Oh, screw you, Soons. I’m not a damn kid.”

Soonyoung laughed, letting his voice roll over his vocal chords. He winked once more for good measure, feeling very pleased over Chan’s reaction.

“That, you are, kid brother.”

It was your first time riding in a car since you were nine years old, driving to the high school to play your first tournament of chess. You couldn’t help your fascination with the scenery outside of the black gates. Green strips of landscape flew by in a blur and color exploded in your retinas.

It was breathtakingly beautiful. So much so that you didn’t even have the capacity to respond to it.

As the car entered the suburban neighborhood, you took time to study each individual house’s features: the window shapes, door colors, everything. You saw kids on front porches with their parents, people were everywhere. Unlike Methuen, the women wore colorful skirts and they were all different.

When Mr. Park finally pulled up to the driveway, the whole situation’s magnitude hadn’t settled on your shoulders yet. Mrs. Park exited the car first, closing the door behind her and opening the door for you. She’s nice to do that for you, you thought.

You followed Mrs. Park into the house, eyes scanning everything around you in pure fascination.

It was when you were in the front living room of the house that you felt out of place with your dreary Methuen uniform. The windows were decorated with lace drapes so only a few bars of golden sunlight were shining on a muted primary rug that sat underneath a grand piano.

“Well? Home sweet home,” said Mrs. Park breathlessly. She did a small twirl in the living room with her arms outstretched. You felt the small inklings of a smile.

Mr. Park cleared his throat behind you, startling you. Sensing his prickly displeasure, you moved aside hurriedly as the man walked past both women to a velvet maroon arm-chair.

Jimin was a practical man, you could tell. He wore glasses when reading and a tie with his suit. He never seemed to take particular interest in being welcoming or loving to you unlike Chaeyoung. He seemed cold and disconnected to his wife and you and his stares were often condescending. You didn’t fear Jimin like Headmaster Kim, but you definitely didn’t like him as much as Chaeyoung.

“Ah,” Mrs. Park nodded. She clapped her hands together. “(Y/N), we should get you acquainted with your room!”

Chaeyoung quickly whisked you away from the living room, guiding you up the carpeted stairs. You tentatively grabbed your suitcase, sending one last curious glance at Jimin before following Chaeyoung upstairs.

Upstairs had more than one bedroom, much to your amazement. Methuen never had walls in between bedrooms. Chaeyoung kept walking down the hallway until stopping at the very last open doorway.

She gestured toward the inside as you moved to stand by her side. Your neck craned as you peered over the edge of the door frame.

“You have no idea how hard it is to find good chestnut furniture,” commented Mrs. Park from the doorway.

You took small, shy steps into the interior of the room. Then, you whipped around to face Mrs. Park. “Is this.. Is this all for me?”

“Why of course!” Chaeyoung replied. “I should leave you alone for now. If you need any help, just call!”

Your heart swelled as she stood in the bedroom alone. The room was entirely covered in pink. Your bed covers were pink and on top, there was a light pink veil covering it. The carpets were fluffy salmon-colored. You set her suitcase down near the doorway before flinging your body onto the bed, bouncing upward slightly.

You laughed in amazement, scrunching your eyes in disbelief. You had a family, you had her own room. It was like life was repaying every loss you ever had, like something had finally gone your way.

“You’re leaving for two weeks?”

Chaeyoung’s voice woke you up from your sleep. You looked out the window to see the married couple out on the driveway. Chaeyoung seemed to just have gotten up as well, dressed only in her nightgown and dyed hair still unruly. Jimin was in his normal attire and it seemed like they were in some sort of argument. You decided to eavesdrop a little, pressing your face to the glass pane.

“Yes. I’ve got some business in the Midwest, apparently. I could be there for weeks. Maybe a month.” Jimin got into the car promptly, shutting the door in front of Chaeyoung.

“Do you have to take the car?” Chaeyoung desperately asked.

“How the hell would I get anywhere without a car? You’re a terrible driver anyway.”

“You could get a rental,” she suggested.

“I’m taking the car with me, Chaeyoung.” He started the engine. “Remember what the doctor said?” His head turned to look his wife up and down. “Some exercise will do you good.”

Then, the engine rumbled to life, carrying the car and Mr. Park away from the house. Mrs. Park physically sighed before slipping out of your sight.

As you got dressed, there was a different sound replacing the cold voice of Mr. Park: the melancholy melody of an instrument. You let your feet drop on each stair step, your ears savoring the beautiful tune. A head of dyed hair appeared over the staircase railing and the piano. You held your breath, sitting down gently on the carpeted stairs.

“Stop staring over there, you’re making me nervous.”

Chaeyoung’s voice cut through the piano’s noise. You broke out of your trance. You quickly walked down the stairs and into the living room normally.

“You play beautifully.”

Chaeyoung’s lips upturned for a moment, but dropped soon after. The smile did not reach her eyes. Instead, it seemed broken and hollow, a deep sadness filling the woman.

“I used to want to become a professional pianist.” Her fingers twitched into movement and music flowed from the belly of the piano. “But I had terrible stage fright, not the best for an aspiring professional,” she laughed dryly. You stood stationery, transfixed with Alma. “And then I got pregnant.”

“You had a child?” You blurted out, too shocked to even think through your question.

Chaeyoung’s finger slipped and dissonance jarred the entire piece into chaos. This time, she did not continue. Her eyes were downcast and her misery spread throughout the room. “We did,” she answered.

You felt your throat close up. Maybe life just had a grudge with you after all. There was obviously conflict between Chaeyoung and Jimin and now you were in the middle of it.

Suddenly, Chaeyoung lifted herself and the same melancholy smile was directed toward you. “Would you like some tuna casserole? We have some left over.”

You shook her head, adamantly. The recent tsunami of new information was making you nauseous. “I’m good.”

“Do you want me to walk you to school?” she tried again.

“I think I’ll be alright,” you answered curtly. Chaeyoung sighed but didn’t force herself upon you. You had never been the most sociable person and you had no intention of creating more trouble for yourself.

The school was a short walk away from home. Along the way there, the few straggler students walking on the sidewalk grew into an entire flock. Noise erupted from the open doors of the school building and you vaguely felt the hints of deja vu from her first encounter with outside students.

During your free block, you got to work inspecting the school’s library.

Your head turned left and right while watching some of the other students hurrying around in the room. There were sounds of giggling laughter between shelves and the light rustling of paper pages. Then, your attention turned toward the librarian in front of you.

“Do you have any books on chess?” you rushed out, uncomfortable in the swarms of people.

She looked up at you through her rounded glasses. The librarian slowly took them off to study you. “Sorry?”

You tapped your foot impatiently, feeling all sorts of embarrassed and shy. “Books on chess.”

“I don’t believe we do,” she pondered. “Oh! But if we do have any, they’ll be at the back shelf over there.” Your body instinctively started to move toward the direction she pointed, desperate to get out of this awkward situation. “There should be some books on Xu Minghao too.”

That name caught your ear.

“Who’s that?”

The librarian smiled, but looked at you quizzically. “Why he’s a grandmaster, of course.”

“What’s a grandmaster?”

“A very, very good chess player.”

“(Y/N), would you be a dear and run down to the local pharmacy? I need to fulfill a prescription.”

You automatically stood up from your bed and walked a few steps to the adjacent bedroom. Chaeyoung looked awful with her dry, dirty hair and blotchy red features.

She sniffled a little bit before reaching to her bedside table. “Here’s a note.”

Her hands were weak and skin and fat clung to the bones of her arm. You nodded with sympathy and carefully slipped the note from in between Chaeyoung’s frail fingers.

You left the Park house shortly, hurrying down the street toward the town center. There were a few people there along with cars bustling down the road. Spotting the pharmacy’s sign over the store, you quickly crossed the street towards it. The door bell jingled as you stepped into the store.

Catching the owner’s attention, you slid the prescription note over the counter, tapping your fingers on the wood as he disappeared behind a shelf.

You then took the liberty to look around the store while he was gone. You rotated your body until you found something on the side of the brick wall.

“TIMES: CHESS MASTERS”

“And this is it,” he muttered. A small pill bottle was sitting on top of the wooden counter. You grabbed it, pocketing it in your dress. Your eyes were still fixated on the magazine.

Reaching to grab it, a gruff voice suddenly stopped you.

“Hey.” It was the store owner. “Buying only,” he said, pointing to the sign above the magazine holders. Then, he turned his back onto you.

You nodded and on your way out, reached for a newspaper beside the magazine. You dropped a few coins onto the counter and strode with long confident paces.

The red outline of the magazine peeked from the pages of the newspaper.

“I think I might start giving you allowance.”

“Hm?” You murmured over the pages of the Times magazine.

“An allowance,” Chaeyoung repeated. “It’s good for young girls like you to start learning how to manage your finances.”

You blinked up at her. “Okay.” You rose from your spot and hurried up the staircase. “Can I go buy a chess board then? I think I might want to attend a tournament this weekend and I need to practice.”

Chaeyoung scrunched her brow, she was displeased. “I don’t want to discourage you from social events, but don’t you think there are better opportunities for girls like you to meet new friends? Like dance classes or something,” she suggested.

You sighed and looked down at Mrs. Park from the railing. “What did you do to socialize when you were my age?”

You didn’t wait for her response and ran into your room. Hope fluttered in your chest as you opened the magazine again.

“KENTUCKY CHAMPIONSHIP THIS WEEKEND. 10$ ADMISSION FEE.”

“I’ll be there,” you murmured to yourself. You rolled over onto your back to stare at the two green speckled pills on your bedside table. You swallowed them and waited.

And waited.

Nothing was happening.

Finally, you jumped up on your bed and ripped off the pink canopy. Huffing in frustration, you threw the remaining, scratchy fabric onto the ground. You let your head rest on your pillow as transcendence settled over your body.

Familiar shapes soon began to fade into reality onto the ceiling.

The address on the magazine was a high school. People were bustling everywhere in the forum. You quickly found the registration table and walked towards it, careful not to bump into anyone along the way.

Two young-looking men were conversing when you walked up.

“Excuse me,” you said.

They looked up at you. When they noticed your gender, they immediately smirked, clearly sleazy about a woman being in front of them. One of them leaned forward towards you.

“Lost your way, lady?”

You internally groaned at his condescending tone, wanting nothing but to walk straight out of the building. You let out a breath of annoyance.

“I’m here for the chess tournament?”

The two males glance at each other.

“Well, do you have a ranking?”

This time, the other man spoke. They looked like twins with their nearly identical outfits and slicked back, brown hair.

You shook your head. “This is the first tournament I’ve joined.”

Twin #1 scoffed and shook his head. “Then you’ll join the beginners bracket.”

What?

“But I’m not a beginner.”

Twin #2 chimed in, his voice firm and unyielding. “Doesn’t matter, no ranking means you’re start as a beginner.”

Cooling yourself down, you started to think. “How long does it take for me to get a ranking?” you inquired.

“3-6 months,” Twin #2 answered.

Then, the perfect idea settled into your head. You started rummaging through your bag for the spare change.

“Put me in the open then.”

“What?” sputtered Twin #1. “Are you crazy? There are professional players in that open. Lee Chan is going to be playing.”

“Who’s Lee Chan?” You ignored them and finally fished out the ten dollar bill.

The both looked at each other again, sharing some kind of secret message in between them.

Twin #1 sighed. “Do you have a clock?”

A clock?

“No,” you answered faithfully.

“We have a clock sharing system. If you don’t have a clock, your partner will have one for you.”

You nodded in response, still confused about what a clock was supposed to be doing in chess.

Twin #2 slid a sheet of paper to you. “Here’s your first round.”

You took it and promptly left the desk, feeling relieved that it was over.

“So.. do they usually put the girls together like this?”

“Huh?”

There was another girl sitting in front of you. The only one, as far as you could tell. She had pretty curled brown hair and she introduced herself as Oh Seunghee.

“I don’t know, are they supposed to put the girls together like this?”

You looked around the empty gym filled with tables of chess players. You were seated right next to the coffee station.

“Well, they’re not supposed to,” she responded.

Seunghee had an innocent smile and pretty, dainty fingers.

“The chessboard is a battlefield,” Mr. Lee’s words rang through your head. “Naivety gets you killed.”

You nodded and looked over at the wooden framed clock to your right. “So, how does that work?”

“Oh, right!” Seunghee clapped her hands together excitedly. “So, once you make a move, I hit the button up there and your time starts to count down. Once the red flag falls, your time is up and you lose.”

“Seems simple,” you murmured. “And this thing?” You tapped the sheet of paper you got from the registration desk.

“To track your moves. Afterwards, you circle the winner.”

You nodded and picked up the pencil to write your name in. “So I can start your clock now, right?”

Seunghee waved her hands, “Go ahead!”

You carefully clicked the metal button down, testing it. Immediately, the clock started ticking off the seconds.

Seunghee moved her pawn forward and leaned on her clasped hands. Her big brown eyes stared at you with a hint of mischief. You nodded awkwardly at her gawking.

“Um, aren’t you supposed to hit the clock?”

“Oh, yes! Sorry. It’s just.. I’ve never played against a girl before.”

Your steps up were fast, the adrenaline rush from the chess game creating the perfect haze for you. You missed this.

When you got to the top, you turned a sharp corner to the registration desk. The two sleazy men were still there.

“What do I do with this?”

You waved around the heavy card paper for dramatics.

The twins looked around together.

“That fast?”

“Mhm.” You didn’t felt the need to verbally respond to the sleazeballs.

“Just put it into the basket,” they sighed.

Having nothing to do, you went back downstairs. Your eyes scanned over the empty tables and chairs that held only a few scarce players, a complete change from a couple minutes ago.

Noticing a crowd, you walked closer towards a divider that had a sign reading, “QUIET PLEASE.”

You weaved your way through sweaty backs and chests until you could somewhat make out what was in the middle of all the commotion.

A chess game.

In the middle was a table with two chairs and two players. Two male players, you noted. The setting seemed to be no different than any of the other games that played around you, making you wonder why this one attracted such a crowd.

You nudged someone close to you. “Who are those people?”

The man looked down at you in amusement mixed in with surprise. “That’s Lee Chan, the current state championship holder. And that’s Park Jisung, a rising chess player. Jisung’s the best of his town and his university.”

You nodded. Lee Chan.. you had heard that name before. At the registration desk.

“Is he a grandmaster?” you pointed abruptly.

Chan’s eyes narrowed at you. “Sorry, could you quiet down over there?”

You flushed with embarrassment and gauged the man’s reaction as well. He had a small small on his face when he glanced down at you as well.

He leaned closer to you to whisper, ““Not yet. He’s working towards it though.”

“I want to play against him.”

“Not everyone can play him. You need to win all of your rounds and so does he.”

You remembered the book you’d checked out from the library. Then you remembered the Times magazine and Mr. Choi. And of course, Mr. Lee.

A grandmaster...

“You want to play Lee Chan?”

The twins had names: Hyunjin and Jinyuh. They reminded you of the high school players you beat during your time of at the orphanage.

You nodded, not understanding why Jinyuh seemed so flabbergasted. “Is there anything wrong?”

Hyunjin scoffed, “You know you’d have to win all of your rounds in order to do that right?”

You remained nonchalant. “And I will.”

“No you won’t,” Jinyuh cut in. “You’d have to go through Joshua!”

“Forget Joshua,” Hyunjin chuckled humorlessly. “Your next round is Seungkwan and he’s way underestimated. He’s the captain of his college chess team and his team hasn’t lost a single tournament this year!”

You let out a sigh and grabbed the score card, leaving the twins speechless. Your pace was brisk as you walked toward the designated table for your round. Being doubted constantly was starting to get onto your nerves.

You tapped your fingers impatiently on the wooden table before a familiar face made you halt your motion.

“So I guess I’m your next round.”

It was the man from before. The one who was with you when Lee Chan was playing. This was Seungkwan?

“Um, yeah, I guess so,” you stuttered out.

His smile was just as mischievous as before, however, this time it had a streak of competitiveness.

Seungkwan adjusted his cuff sleeves and settled into his chair. His brief case rested next to him, leaning against the legs of his chair.

He motioned for you to start his clock and you did. Leaning over slightly to push the rusty metal button down.

The game was on.

The clock was still ticking down the time. There were roughly twenty tables set out around you, all of which were holding chess games.

You didn’t waste time trying to count the tables exactly though. The man in front of you was providing enough entertainment.

Seungkwan’s brows furrowed as he studied the board, cautiously making a move and hitting the clock.

Your hand moved automatically, pushing a chess piece toward its designated position in your mind. Seungkwan huffed. You grinned.

“Jesus, (Y/N), you’re humiliating my rook.”

“He won’t have to suffer for much longer,” you murmured.

Seungkwan’s eyebrow arched up as if coaxing you to tell him your strategy. You shook your head and motioned for him to return his move.

He sighed and slowly, slowly, tipped the white crown of his king to the board.

“Alright, you got me there, (Y/N). I lose.”

You blinked. He forfeited?

All of a sudden, a rush of deja vu hit you. You were reminded of one of the first games you had played with Mr. Lee. How ironic, you thought. Now I’m on the other side of the board.

Seungkwan extended a hand out to you. You daintily shook his hand, feeling shy from his act of sportsmanship.

He bowed slightly and picked up his briefcase. “I wish you luck on your next rounds, (Y/N).” Seungkwan winked and then left in a blink.

You followed him toward the cork board announcing all the pairings. You watched in satisfaction as your name went from the bottom of the board, to the top.

It was getting slightly tiring playing four consecutive chess matches, but as you walked up the stairs toward registration, you figured that it was all worth it to see the look of pure shock on Hyunjin and Jinyuh’s faces.

You stared at them expectantly, tapping your foot impatiently as you waited for your next pairing to be announced.

“You’re done,” Jinyuh sputtered.

Your brow raised. You had won all your games, how was that possible? “What do you mean?”

“The games are done for today. The finals are tomorrow,” Hyunjin said.

You nodded, satisfied with today’s results. “Thank you,” you replied and walked out of the forum, feeling even more confident when you realized that everyone’s eyes in the room were on you.

The clock ticked away as your fingers tapped against the table. Your eyes were everywhere in search, looking at every person standing around the chess board. Lee Chan was not here yet.

You let out a sigh and kept tapping away. The empty chair in front of you taunted you. Your gaze kept darting to the clock mounted on the wall, the red seconds hand traveling in rotations.

“Sorry about that,” Chan huffed.

You turned your heads toward him, your gaze sharp and burning. If he was bothered by it, he didn’t show it.

Chan shuffled in his chair for a few seconds before leaning in on his elbows. “Ready?” he asked, a grin on his face.

You let out a small scoff and leaned to start his clock.

It was a long game and long made you stressed. You weren’t used to this level of competition and it was starting to get to your head. It was harder to predict Lee Chan’s moves and counter them, almost like your eyesight was fogging up and blurring.

“Excuse me,” you gasped out before racing towards the bathroom. The crowd parted like the sea when you moved.

You splashed water all over your face before reaching into your pocket for your reassurance. Your tranquility. Your fingers fumbled with the pill bottle before tipping it forward. Pills tumbled into the palm of your hand.

You dumped all of them back in except for one and swallowed the green pill without a second thought. You let out a relieved pant and let your breathing stead.

As you slowly raised your head at the mirror, you stared at the reflection, memorizing each flutter of movement on the bathroom ceiling.

When you exited the bathroom doors, your sight was back, zeroing in on the chess board. You sat down in the chair and moved your piece swiftly.

Chan’s brows raised in concentration as he leaned further in.

The next few moves were all just as swift as the first one. Your strategy was played with no hesitation and as the end game drew near, Chan was starting to catch up.

Unfortunately, his pieces were still too behind.

“You see it don’t you?” you murmured, staring at him with widened eyes.

Chan was sweating now. He kept shifting in his seat and breathing heavily. “I can get out of this.”

“No you can’t. If you avoid my bishop, I’ll just take with the r-”

“Move!” Chan spit out.

You sighed, rolling your eyes, but complied.

The game played on into the end game. As you closed in on the king, you were two steps away from it. Your heart sped up in giddiness, feeling the sweetness of adrenaline on your tongue.

Chan’s voice broke through the illusion.

“Draw?” he whispered.

Your heart stopped. A draw? Your eyes whirled to the bystanders around you, some of which were now muttering underneath their breath. Your eyes rested on the familiar face of Seungkwan. His eyes were swirling with a mischievous mirth.

“No,” he mouthed at you, shaking his head.

You nodded, a smile returning to your face. “No way.”

Chan huffed, bracing himself against the table. He threw down his king.

The crowd erupted into applause as Chan walked away from the board.

You had won the state championship.

“So, I heard you lost your… whatever tournament that was.”

Chan sighs, “It was the state championship, damn it. What the hell are you doing here?”

Soonyoung grins and leans back in his chair. “C’mon, Chan. We’re family, remember? Don’t big brothers check up on their siblings’ interests and stuff?”

Chan glances up at him bemusedly. “Is chess the only interesting thing you ask about?”

“Hm,” Soonyoung pondered. “I don’t know about you, but it sure is for me. Say, what was her name? I think I saw it in the newspaper somewhere…”

“(Y/N) (L/N),” Chan grits. It was an embarrassing defeat on his part and celebrating his loss with the country’s champion wasn’t helping. Smirking, Chan decides to take a little bit of petty revenge. “I think she might beat you.”

“Oh ho!” This caught Soonyoung’s attention. “The girl who beat you?” He immediately sits up straighter, his eyes ablaze with competition. “Hm, is she coming to Vegas?”

“Probably.”

“Well then, we’ll just have to see. All in due time, right?”

Chan chuckles, “She might not go, though. You never know. And if she does go, I hope she beats your ass. Jeonghan’s always saying you got it coming.”

Soonyoung lets out a dry chuckle. “Now I’m intrigued by this mystery lady. However,” he pauses and contemplates his next words.

Chan looks up at him suspiciously, “However, what?”

Soonyoung grinned.

“I don’t plan on losing my title just yet.”

Chess was a game of delicacy. Like a pyramid of stacked cards, there was a method and a strategy to complete it. Missing a step meant a pile of lost cards on the table.

“You were too caught up with double pawns last game. You’ll win this one, (Y/N). You have to.”

previous part: here

next part: here (unavailable)

tag list: @haotheheckk @gryffindor-jun

#caratwritersclub #seventeen/reader #hoshi/reader #soonyoung/reader #seventeen hoshi #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #svt fluff #svt angst #hoshi fluff #hoshi angst #soonyoung fluff #soonyoung angst #g:seventeen

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stxphxn-strange · 4 years

Text

you don’t have to hurry, you don’t have to try

a/n: i didn’t plan on writing this but this week has been v introspective and a little confusing? so it’s ~self indulgent fic time~. title from “walking on air” by king crimson, regular college au tony angst and a rly soft ironstrange moment

Stephen could tell, even without seeing his boyfriend’s expression, that Anthony was lost in thought. He’d been wandering in his mind for most of the day, and though they helped Stephen knew his gentle encouragements and praises didn’t magically fix everything. He was self aware enough to know he wasn’t that powerful, and he knew he couldn’t banish everything that bothered Anthony. But sometimes Stephen wished it was possible, with just a wave of a hand, to give Anthony the peace of mind that had been stolen from him time and time again. It was late enough to be asleep, but even without seeing his face Stephen knew Anthony was fighting the desire to close his eyes and let the day end. He was curled up in Stephen’s arms, head resting on his boyfriend’s chest as he wandered hopelessly through the maze of his thoughts.

Anthony was exhausted. He spent the day complaining, humorously of course because heaven forbid he gave anyone a reason to find fault with him, that he was tired. Stephen saw right through the act and knew he was legitimately tired, and not just physically. He also knew that Anthony didn’t feel fulfilled unless he accomplished something tangible, and on days when he wanted to do nothing, to just exist outside of the pressure he put on himself, he retreated to relentless self-deprecation for not doing more. He was still used to being judged, ridiculed, and used for what he did or didn’t do, depending on the circumstances, and he’d made a lot of progress unlearning those thought streams, but it wasn’t easy.

So Stephen didn’t fault Anthony for being upset and confused, his heart breaking when he saw how hesitant Anthony was to believe his reassurances. He still didn’t trust himself to let go of all of his façades, especially not the carefully practiced busybody energy he maintained when dealing with others. Sometimes, often without realizing, he really did act as if his entire life was nothing but deadlines. He thought that he didn’t matter, only his work did. Anthony didn’t know what to do with himself as a human, which fucking petrified him. He sometimes didn’t see himself as human, but he couldn’t say how he saw himself. Stephen frowned as he remembered Anthony once saying that he could only ever picture himself as a burden to everyone he knew, or just a mind and body to be toyed with and used.

Stephen was drawn away from the memory of that conversation and back to the present when Anthony looked up at him.

“Thought you were asleep,” he mumbled, shifting just enough to lay his head on Stephen’s shoulder.

“Nah, I’m genuinely not tired,” Stephen replied.

“I’m not either,” Anthony said stubbornly.

Stephen would’ve usually been a bit snarky or argued that during their earlier romp Anthony called him “exhausting”, but this was one of those moments where he didn’t want to banter.

Instead, Stephen took a gentler approach and scoffed at him. “You’ve never been a good liar, Ant.”

“Because I don’t try to lie to you the way I do to other people,” Anthony replied bluntly. “I don’t feel like I need to be protecting myself from judgement when I talk to you.”

“You don’t,” Stephen reminded him, softly kissing his head. “And you don’t have to stay up for me, if that’s what you’re wondering about.”

“Shouldn’t I?” Anthony asked.

“No, in fact I don’t want you to,” Stephen said. “If you’re as tired as we both know you are, you don’t need anyone’s permission to rest and leave today where it is. And you don’t have to sacrifice sleep or your well-being for anyone you’re in any kind of relationship with, and you shouldn’t.”

Anthony looked at him skeptically, as if he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. He was really fucking tired and wanted nothing more than to sleep soundly in Stephen’s arms, but he couldn’t overcome his anxiety and felt his heart skip as Stephen frowned.

“Hey, I’m not upset with you,” Stephen said, trying to disrupt Anthony’s anxious train of thought before it took off. “I’m just trying to decide how to say what I’m thinking.”

“I’m listening,” Anthony replied, instinctively reaching out to hug him.

“I know,” Stephen murmured, kissing him again. “But sometimes there’s a difference between you listening to me and you believing what I say.”

Anthony nodded. “Guilty.”

“I get it, though. I don’t blame you,” Stephen began. “And I’m not saying this to try and convince you of anything, if that makes sense. I just want you to understand that you’re one of the most important people, if not the most important person in my life.”

Anthony was silent, expectantly waiting for Stephen to continue as he shifted even closer to him.

“I love you, and I know I tell you that all the time but it means so much to be able to say it, and to be able to love you,” Stephen began. “I know you probably better than I know myself, both because we grew up together and because along the way you’ve always put your trust in me without hesitation. I know you don’t trust easily, and you have valid reasons for doing so, so to know that your trust in me has only increased is so important to me and I’m always going to cherish that. I’m always going to cherish you. Your kindness and selflessness are fucking insatiable and it makes my blood boil to know that people have tried to change and take advantage of you.”

Stephen let his words hang in the air, pressing a flurry of kisses to Anthony’s hair and face.

“You’re the only person I’ve ever really been close to, which you know so I don’t know why I’m telling you that,” Anthony replied. “I know I’m bad at emotions sometimes—”

“You really aren’t,” Stephen cut him off. “You’re very perceptive and empathetic, but much more towards others than to yourself. I didn’t mean to cut you off, I’m sorry.”

“You’ve been interrupting me our entire lives, since even before we could speak full sentences, and now you want to apologize?” Anthony teased. He laughed for the first time all day, his heart lighter than it had been in awhile.

Stephen’s heart sang.

“I love your laugh,” he murmured. “I love when you laugh like nobody’s listening, and when a song you love comes on and you start dancing. I love how you’re always talking about something and bringing people into your conversations. You’re magnetic, not even because of what you say but because of how you say it. Without a doubt you’re the most inviting person I’ve ever known, and I love you for that. I just really love the moments where it just hits me that I’m hopelessly in love with my best friend and that you love me too.”

“I think you’ve seen more of my real self than anyone else” Anthony replied. “Because you’ve always made me feel safe and comfortable enough to be emotional, even when I was discouraged from it. You’re one of the only constants, one of the only people who I know means every word they say to me.”

“I do, and I always will,” Stephen vowed. “I love you for everything you are, for much more than your mind and body even as amazing as they are. Everything at your core combines to make you the most creative, intellectual, and understanding douchebag I’ve ever met, but I wouldn’t have it another way. There’s no one else I’d rather call my lover and best friend.”

Anthony sighed shakily, beginning to cry into Stephen’s shoulder. He was overwhelmed, the stress of the day finally breaking from its orbit around him. His stress combined with the gratitude and love he felt for Stephen, leaving him emotional and vulnerable. Despite all of that, and despite how much Anthony hated to be vulnerable even in front of Stephen (he was still working on that), he knew he’d be okay. He knew he’d be able to be himself, no matter what mood he was in or how that looked, and find a home with his best friend.

Anthony let himself cry until he was almost asleep, his body still recovering from a brutal anxiety attack earlier. He could hear himself talking but was already drifting away, not thinking much before he talked. “I don’t think I’d be... I don’t think I’d be anything without you.”

“Give yourself more credit,” Stephen admonished, his voice sweet and loving and no louder than a whisper. “You’re incredible and unlike anyone I’ve ever known, but not because or in spite of anyone else.”

Anthony hummed, either agreeing with or questioning what Stephen said but it wasn’t clear which. He closed his eyes, looking content with the idea of sleeping for once.

Stephen didn’t say anything, still unwilling at this point to be snarky towards his boyfriend. He just petted Anthony’s hair, whispering as many sweet nothings and affirmations of love as he could.

Anthony still tried to stay up, not because he felt like needed to or because he was annoyed with himself, but because he wanted to hear everything Stephen had to say. Stephen knew this of course, smiling as Anthony fell asleep just after a soft, breathless “love you.”

tags: @stark-strange-love2 @h3mmy @ironstrange-chaos @doctorstephenvincentstarkstrange @majesticnerdynerd @spooky-n-spunky @kiwidino @chocopiggy @maya-custodios-dionach @thespacecryptid

#i meant to post this yesterday #my ironstrange college au #i am projecting more strongly than Stephen in the astral realm #i lowkey hate this but i did my best given how empty my head feels lmao #ironstrange #tony stark #stephen strange #Stephen is absolute goals here #implied past stony #implied anti stony #king crimson walking on air

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cryptidshuffle · 3 years

Text

the less we say about it the better - chp 1

ao3

Rating: Teen Fandom: Half-Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware Relationships: Tommy Coolatta & Gordon Freeman, Tommy Coolatta/Gordon Freeman (pre relationship) Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Temporary Character Death(its benrey dont worry hes ok), meta about deaths and respawns, arguing about the rules of uno, gay pining, Mutual Pining, fellas is it gay to comfort ur friend who u love and are both boys?, also fair warning it'll eventually be a poly ship with benrey, Autistic Character, Autistic Tommy, ADHD Gordon, everyone is gay and trans, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Summary: “after everything we’ve been through we deserve a few mental break downs.” they are trying to recover after black mesa, but recovery is hard. especially when one of you is still dead

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

They had been out of Black Mesa for a few weeks now. It was difficult trying to acclimate to life after the incident, but they were all making it work.

The science team had gotten together for some sort of game night, something cathartic about being around others who share the same trauma. Anyways, snacks and Uno was just as chaotic as one would imagine with this group of chucklefucks, with competitive tensions high on the last round of the night.

“You can’t stack the draw 4 cards, Gordon,” Bubby argued, smacking Gordon’s hand just as he placed the card.

“Says who?”

“It’s literally against the fucking rules of the game,” Bubby said back.

Tommy agreed with, “It is in the official rules, Mr. Freeman, they- Mattel confirmed it on Twitter.”

“But that’s dumb!” Gordon argued back, “I’ve always played where you can stack those, why change that now?"

Bubby retorted, “Well maybe you’ve always been playing wrong, huh? Ever thought about that, smartass?”

Dr. Coomer chimed in with, “Well on the official page for Uno (card game) on Wikipedia, the free online encyclopedia that anyone can edit, it states that

The following official house rules are suggested in the Uno rulebook, to alter the game:

Progressive Uno: If a draw card is played, and the following player has the same card, they can play that card and "stack" the penalty, which adds to the current penalty and passes it to the following player.[4](Although a +4 cannot be stacked on a +2, or vice versa.)[6] This house rule is so commonly used that there was widespread Twitter surprise in 2019 when Mattel stated that stacking was not part of the standard rules of Uno.[6]”

“Well, there you have it,” Gordon exclaims, interrupting Coomer’s Wikipedia infodump, “Just because it’s a house rule doesn’t mean it’s not a legitimate way of playing."

“What if I don’t want to play with that rule, that’s fuckin stupid,” Bubby grumbles.

“Jesus ok, I'll play a different card, happy?” Gordon says dejectedly, taking back his controversial draw 4 card for a more innocuous one. “It’s your turn anyways.”

Bubby throws down his last card onto the pile. “I win fuckers!!!! Ahahahahaha!"

“You wouldn’t have won if you let me stack the fucking cards,” Gordon said as he threw his losing card pile onto the coffee table.

“Don’t fret Gordon! Bubby is just extremely good at card games,” Dr. Coomer replied.

“You're forgetting I’m a goddamn genius, that extends to my sick-ass Uno skills,” Bubby bragged.

Gordon chuckled, watching the two older scientists get up to leave, and watching Tommy remain, quietly cleaning up the uno deck into neat piles to place in its box.

“Well gentlemen, it’s been fun, though I think it’s time Bubby and I better get going!” Dr. Coomer said.

“No problem, don’t want you two to be late for your old man early-bird breakfast at Golden Corral tomorrow!” Gordon teased.

“Shut the fuck- I’ll kick your ass,” said Bubby.

“Hello Gord- Actually our old man breakfast is not until Saturday! It’s the one day a week I let loose and unhinge my jaws at the buffet like a Burmese Python!” said Dr. Coomer as Bubby grabs his coat and keys.

“That sounds absolutely horrifying,” Gordon laughs.

“It really is,” says Bubby. “Well, see you later asshole,” Bubby says, herding himself and Coomer out the front door.

“See you guys later,” Gordon says.

“Goodbye, Gordon! Goodbye, Tommy,” Coomer also says, before they leave Gordon’s apartment.

Tommy had yet to get up to leave, he stayed sitting in his seat staring into space, and fiddling with the Uno card deck.

“Hey Tommy, you alright man?” he asked gently. At the mention of his name, he was shaken a bit out of his stupor.

“Y-yeah I'm fine Mr. Freeman, why do you ask?”

“I mean you were kinda just staring into space for a bit, and you didn’t say anything when Bubby and Coomer left.”

“Oh shit. Sorry about that, I’ll get out of your hair,” Tommy said, starting to move to leave.

Gordon placed a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “Hey, if something’s bothering you, just know I’m here if you wanna talk about it,” Gordon comforted.

Tommy blushed slightly at the contact and nodded.

“Thank you. I-uh… I’ve just been thinking about things that happened back in Black Mesa and, you know,” he pauses to think for a bit, and sighs, “honestly I’ve been thinking a lot about Benrey.”

Just at the mention of him, Gordon felt his stomach drop with the weight of too many emotions.

“Yeah...I uh… I understand,” he responds with a sad sigh, “anything in particular you’re thinking about him?”

“I don’t know just kind of- Earlier I started thinking about how much he would enjoy game night. And then I started to miss him and realize that- that he’s not here. I feel guilty about killing him and upset at what he did. He was still my friend and I just- I want to know why he did what he did. I just want to understand,” Tommy said.

Gordon looked away as he thought about his own emotions regarding Benrey. He was undeniably angry with him, for getting him ambushed by the bootboys, for getting his arm cut off, frustrated with the constant taunting. Yet… he also felt guilty for some reason and he couldn’t quite place why. Gordon really didn’t want to feel guilty.

“Yeah…” Gordon sighed, “I'll be honest I do feel guilty about it too. I don’t know why because I feel like it should be justified since he did try to kill us. But there were times when him pestering me about my arm felt like… like sincere questioning? I still… I don’t know.”

“Yeah… I think-” Tommy cut himself off, staring at a fixed point in his vision, trying to decide whether or not to bring this up.

“I don’t think Benrey understood how human mortality worked.”

Well, that wasn’t what Gordon expected. “What do you mean?”

“Well, he was from Xen, Mr. Freeman, he wasn’t human. It was different for him. You remember he did die several times, but he came back eventually. He had to wait for his form to regenerate.”

“Wait-” this time Gordon cut Tommy off, “Oh shit, that wasn’t a joke? For some reason I just assumed his talking about respawns and shit was part of his Epic Gamer bit?”

“I mean it was a little but I think… there’s probably a reason Benrey attached himself to video games so much, yeah? He can see himself in the structure. Like, uh- something he can relate to.” Tommy says. “It doesn’t excuse what- what he did, but I feel like knowing why things happened makes- makes them more understandable.”

Gordon leaned back on the couch blown away by the revelation. In hindsight it wasn’t that surprising but it took him a few seconds to come to terms with the reality.

“Yeah, when you put it that way, I guess it does make a lot of sense. Wait though, I swear to god all of you have died at least once, but you guys aren’t from Xen?” Gordon said, now confused about the seeming metanarrative of the mortality of his friends.

“Yeah, but those were weird Black Mesa things, Mr. Freeman,” Tommy said, not elaborating any more than that.

Gordon waited a beat for Tommy to explain more but he said all he needed to.

“I will ask you more about that later, but I do not have the energy to unpack all that right now,” Gordon said with a gentle laugh.

“Wait, getting back on topic real quick, why couldn’t Benrey just... respawn now? Did we really get him that good?”

Tommy looked incredibly sad when Gordon said this, and he regretted it immediately. ‘Damn it Gordon, Tommy’s clearly upset about Benrey, you don’t gotta be an insensitive dick.’

“Well Mr. Freeman, that’s kinda why I’ve been thinking about him,” Tommy said, “I’m not sure. It shouldn’t have taken him this long to respawn. Depending on the amount of damage it takes longer but… It’s been a while and what if- What if he is back but he is mad at all of us and that’s why we haven’t seen him? Or what if it is taking a really long time because we hurt him a whole lot. Or what if we…”

Tommy got quiet for a few seconds, the silence in the room was deafening. For an instance Gordon felt as if making a sound would shatter the air like glass.

Tommy finally said with a whisper, voice thick with choking back tears, “What if we killed him for good? And I don’t- I never see him again?”

It honestly broke Gordon’s heart how distraught Tommy was. Pushing his own complicated Benrey feelings aside, he was gonna focus on Tommy here and now.

“…Tommy, is it ok if I hug you, man?” Gordon couldn’t think of the best way to comfort the other man with words, but physical comfort he could do.

Tommy looked a little surprised at this ask but nodded. Gordon leaned in to hug the other scientist and Tommy collapsed in his embrace, completely breaking down.

Gordon just sat there and held him as Tommy sobbed into his shoulder, trying to comfort the crying man by rubbing circles into his back.

Gordon’s brain processed the things Tommy had said. Was Benrey really gone? Why did he feel guilty about the idea of having killed Benrey, he was fine with the concept during the final boss fight on Xen but now… the thought made him feel… sad? Regretful? Even his seemingly rational justifications didn’t seem as clear at the moment, only thinking of his fonder memories with Benrey.

‘Fuck this,’ he thought as he felt his own tears well up, ‘this isn’t about me, I need to focus on being there for Tommy,’ pushing his own feelings to the back of his mind to be dealt with later.

Tommy eventually calmed down enough where his sobs turned into sniffles, and he started to pull away from the hug.

“S – sorry for having a – a breakdown on your- on your couch Mr. Freeman,” Tommy said, the post-crying mental fog making his stuttering more noticeable. Tommy didn’t really have the effort in him to care.

“Don’t worry about it, man, after everything we’ve been through we deserve a few mental breakdowns,” Gordon joked trying to lighten the mood.

“Oh, that was nothing, Mr. Freeman, in terms of mental breakdowns that was as mild as a first-grade pizza party in the eye of a hurricane,” Tommy compared in a way that made little sense to Gordon, yet ridiculous enough to cause the man to burst out laughing.

“Alright I’ll take your word for it,” Gordon said, still laughing.

“I’m serious Mr. Freeman, once you have a meltdown so intense that you accidentally teleport yourself to an inter-dimensional void, the rest is a cake walk at the school fair,” Tommy said.

“Waitwaitwait- teleport?” he leaned back to look at him in surprise, “Since when could you fuckin teleport!” Gordon asked caught off guard.

“You know, learned some things from my Dad,” Tommy said, again failing to further explain himself.

“…Well alright. Yeah that tracks.”

Gordon was quiet for a moment before responding with, “You know, Tommy, I want you to know I’m here for you if you need anyone to talk to. You were there for me when I was at my lowest in Black Mesa, and I wanna be that friend to you if you need it,” he said giving the other scientists hand a comforting squeeze.

Tommy smiled, “Thank you, that means a lot Mr. Freeman.”

“You know you can call me Gordon, you don’t have to be so formal all the time Dr. Coolatta,” he teased.

Tommy blushed, ‘dammit why did he have to be so cute?’

“Wow Mr. Fr – Gordon are you really gonna make fun of my doctorate that I worked very hard for,” Tommy teased back, still a bit sniffly from crying.

“Dude, I cannot imagine you in college for some reason, what was your doctorate even in” asked Gordon, semi-jokingly, but still a bit serious.

Tommy laughed a bit, wiping the remaining tears away with the back of his hand. “Bio-chemical engineering. Creating Sunkist was for my thesis project.” Normally Tommy would be more then willing to infodump about the topic but he found his energy to be draining fast.

“What the fuck, that’s cooler than mine was. Us nerds in the Theoretical Physics department didn’t do any crazy shit like that,” Gordon said.

“Bold of you to assume I was a nerd, G-Gordon. I was the craziest guy in the frat house,” Tommy said.

Gordon’s memory vaguely recalls Tommy’s insistence that he “do something crazy” when drinking Darnold’s Potion of Grow Gun Arm.

“You know what, yeah, surprisingly I can see that image vividly in my head,” Gordon said. “Real talk though…” he said changing the subject and putting his hand on Tommy’s shoulder, “Are you- uh, ok? Like feeling better?”

Tommy was quiet for a second, eyes flickering down to look at his fidgeting hands in his lap, before replying with, “I’m ok. N-not great, I don’t think, but I will be.”

Gordon nodded. “Tommy, if there’s one nugget of wisdom that I have to share, it’s that healing takes time, things usually turn out to be ok in the end. No matter what’s going on with Benrey…it'll be alright, I’m sure.” Gordon patted his shoulder for emphasis, “not the best advice out there but it’s the best I can come up with straight off the dome. And I don’t wanna seem like I didn’t try to help you out."

Tommy laughed gently, “Thank you Mr. Fr- uh, thank you Gordon. You did help. Even if- if your advice was a bit cheesy.”

“Whatever man, you can’t blame me for trying,” Gordon laughed, playfully shoving Tommy where his hand had previously rested on the other man’s shoulder. Tommy laughed in return. He only noticed the warmth of Gordon’s touch once it was gone.

Tommy absentmindedly noticed the time on the wall clock in Gordon’s apartment. Jesus, 11:30? When did it get so late? The older scientist really hoped he wasn’t overstaying his welcome; While he would love to just stay here and joke around, he had already bothered Mr. Freeman enough and was already exhausted.

“I- I’m probably gonna head back home now, I didn’t realize how late it was,” Tommy said, standing up from his spot next to Gordon.

Gordon nodded. He had the passing thought of offering for Tommy to stay but… maybe that was a step too far. ‘Tommy probably wants his space,’ Gordon rationalized to himself.

He nodded, “Alright, don’t let me keep you,” he said, getting up as well to help Tommy gather his belongings. Which, to be honest Tommy didn’t bring much but some snacks for the group, but Gordon just needed an excuse to do anything.

Gordon walked Tommy to the front door of his apartment, like the good host he was, opening the door for him.

“Thanks for coming over Tommy,” he said.

Tommy nodded. “Thank- thank you again for letting me talk about Benrey, I know it was kinda rough there at the end, but if you ever need to talk about anything… I'm here for you as well.”

Gordon smiled, “Thank you Tommy, I'll keep that in mind.”

Tommy smiled in return, “Have a good night G-Gordon,” he said turning to head to his car.

“Goodnight Tommy.” Gordon turns to head back inside, but before he does, he can’t resist one more jab.

“Thought you could teleport?” he calls out teasingly.

Tommy flips him off, which causes Gordon to laugh harder. “Gives me a headache,” Tommy called back, trying and failing keep a straight face.

Gordon laughs as he waves a final goodbye, turning back inside and closing the door after Tommy waves as well. His thoughts race as he gets ready for bed, trying to ignore his fluttering heartbeat as he lays down for the night.

Tommy shuffles his thoughts in his head as he drives home. The emotional rollercoaster of his already draining social interaction meter from the science team, his Benrey guilt, and his small crush on Gordon was just too much for one day. His hands clench and unclench the steering wheel, looking forward to collapsing in bed for the night, hoping his dad won’t notice he'd been crying.

Somewhere, in an interdimensional void far away from this reality, someone begins to shift awake.

#fanfic #hlvrai #half life vr but the ai is self aware #freelatta

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llycaons · 3 years

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tagged by @zhuhongs! thanks sage, sorry this took so long!!

I had already answered this one and was planning to just copy it over but I deleted it on accident! so here we are

1. Why did you choose your url?

I wanted something that referenced the natural world or anatomy or evolution in some way and I landed on the one that I thought had the prettiest latin name. I was almost bisynapsids which would have been cool too. I played around with edgy names of bones and stuff before settling on the name for one of my favorite wild animals

2. Any sideblogs? If you have them name them and why you have them

ok I never understood how “sideblogs” worked so I just made an entirely new tumblr when I wanted to focus myself on ba/ccano. I had a really fun time for a few years and the community was wonderful but I ran out of juice last year and haven’t been back. if anyone’s interested it’s @eyes-like-a-gentle-knight (wordy, I know). there was so much good novel content I loved it. still waiting on those last two books narita!

3. How long have you’ve been on tumblr?

hmm almost nine years? but this blog is a freshy and clean 6 months old

4. Do you have a queue tag?

never saw the point? I don’t use a queue and when I do I like to be mysterious

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

obsession with near from death note and also I was into other anime like ouran and [redacted] and [redacted] but death note had me in it’s grip age 15 so when I found this site which had lots of pictures of near from death note I was like :o

I had no idea what I was doing! I just reposted a bunch of screenshots with captions like ouran posts 2/3 or something. no I had to learn the Culture of this site purely by osmosis

6. Why did you choose your icon?

princess mononoke is one of my favorite movies and the image of san in that scene was always so powerful to me. I didn’t mean for a dog theme I swear I’m not even a dog person

7. Why did you choose your header?

I wrote a big post about this when I chose it because I like to talk about every one of my decisions but basically:

it’s got nature in it

looks green for summer

cql but appealing to someone who hasn’t seen it

not an critical moment so I won’t get sick of seeing it

lwj is there which I like but he is barely visible so he’s like secret lwj. but I like that he’s there

8. What’s your post with the most notes?

in my foolish youth I reposted a pic from facebook about tesla that got 100,000+ notes (I think) and got my my first ever rude anon!!!! they just told me not to repost without a source and called me an asshole which as a sensitive 15 year old was very difficult to handle/s. but on here it’s my cql rewatch lb about the atmosphere of ep1. I had a good number of notes on my previous blog for some cql txps but I don’t like to see the notes so I’m glad I’m cut away from them.

however the mdzs/cql fandom has been the only other place I’ve gotten rude anons so. with fame comes tragedy ig/s. they called me a dummy :(

9. How many mutuals do you have?

like? 20? I don’t keep track.

(and sage you ARE everyone’s bestie I feel like everyone I know loves sage zhuhongs)

10. How many followers do you have?

uhhh 78. nice and neat. last blog was like 1780 or something but a lot of them were inactive

11. How many people do you follow?

umm 44? it’s really hard for me to follow people I legitimately feel sick when I do it more than one a week or something. the dash NEEDS to look a certain way and I NEED to get to where I was last time and so I am very very picky about who I follow. also when I break mutuals I feel horrible and guilty so I try not to have too many

12. Have you ever made a shitpost?

idk what this means! unlikely!

13. How often do you use tumblr each day

yeah I also work and I can’t have my phone in the lab so for 17 hrs a day I’m asleep or away which is very good but most of the rest of the time I’m on here...which is fine tbh I like it and I know I have nothing better to do rn. school will start again and I won’t be able to be on here as much :(

14. Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? Who won?

I feel like usually nobody “wins” these fights. I am bad at articulating my point and I hate confrontation so I usually just block but when I get an anon trying to argue with me I’ll sometimes respond and I feel like I win those? but like, it’s anon. I’m just responding. like someone sending me flack for tagging my hate for bad ship and I gave this long-winded and lbr kind of annoyingly self-righteous response that at the time I felt very pleased with. but it didn’t work bc I kept getting anons trying to convince me or discuss with me why they shipped it and im like idk!!! go away!!!

okay early in the year I got an ask like “how do you feel about wwx being lame in cql” and I got kind of defensive bc I thought they were one of those diehard novel fan but they came back and were like “oh sorry I’m into the donghua and you have a point and this isn’t productive to discuss” so I kind of feel like I won? I mean, it wasn’t really an argument

15. How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

If it’s something important then yeah obviously but if it's like “or something bad will happen!!!” no ofc not those are annoying as hell and probably awful if you’re paranoid

16. Do you like tag games?

YESSS

17. Do you like ask games?

YES PLEASE SEND ME ASKS

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

probably mx. gun? some of the Polycule, uhh, you, sage. and maybe my very most recent follower hello to you! I feel weird using anyone’s personal name if we haven’t spoken so if you’re seeing this just know I was also super into good o/mens a few years and I really liked seeing your posts and art so it’s cool to see you around again in cdrama circles

19. Do I have a crush on a mutual?

I don’t see having a crush on anyone I’ve never really spoken to irl but I do know I have a very many pretty and/or handsome mutuals :)

20. Tags?

god I am so stressed out to choose. it’s open to everyone!

#again thank you I love a tag game #cor.txt #everyone else if you already saw this no you didn't <3

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cavalierious-whim · 4 years

Text

Parlay (FE3H)

FE3h | Sylvix | High-Seas AU | Teen | Complete

This time Sylvain's more than doubled his money, he's doubled his life.

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A/N: Another one from last year! CW for a vague depiction of stitching up a wound. It's very minor. Read here on AO3 for better quality!

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“You don’t seem the type to dabble with our kind of lot.”

Sylvain turns to the voice, meeting the youthful face of the captain. He’s younger than expected, but severe-looking with a narrow and angular face and circles cut so deep underneath his eyes that Sylvain wonders exactly what it was that put them there.

“Yeah,” says Sylvain, a signature smirk spreading wide across his face, channeling his well-practiced façade, “Pi--”

“Smugglers,” says the captain, interrupting.

“Smugglers,” repeats Sylvain. He’s not sure why the man cares because everyone already knows what they actually are. Pirates. A dubious lot known for bloodshed and riots, and rum and indulgence. Looking around the ship though, it looks more like a tightly run and well-oiled machine, than a drunken schooner.

The captain watches him for a long moment, midnight hair ruffling in the soft sea breeze. He looks mean, but not mean enough to be in this line of work. Then again, Sylvain’s new to all of this, so it’s not like he knows what to expect.

He’s only heard the wild stories of Felix the Blood Red and his rag-tag group of misfits.

“You’re a little green,” says Felix.

“Oh, I’m used to the sea--”

“I didn’t mean ill.” Felix has his arms crossed over his chest as he watches Sylvain with a critical eye. “I meant new to smuggling.” Nothing seems to escape the man. Sylvain will have to tread lightly.

“Well, I used to run my goods legitimately,” says Sylvain, rubbing at his neck. “My father trusted me to overlook his operations.”

“Should he have?” asks Felix.

“Should he have what?” asks Sylvain.

“Trusted you,” says Felix, impatience creeping into his tone.

“Yes,” says Sylvain. Then he pauses. “At least, until he dealt with the kinds of goods that I don’t like.”

“Drugs?” asks Felix.

“Worse,” says Sylvain. He doesn’t need to elaborate for the both of them to glean his meaning. They both fall silent, Felix’s mouth twitching with slight annoyance and Sylvain feels a little bit guilty. “Oh don’t give me that look, I haven’t brought anything illegal aboard. You can check the crates.”

“Then why hire us?” asks Felix, nosier than Sylvain would like. But where he in his position, Sylvain might be just as nosey, if not more. Mostly because Felix is a cunning and interesting man at first glance. And he bets that the mystery only gets better the more he learns.

“I’m not taking them to where they are supposed to go,” Sylvain says simply. “My father wants things shipped south to the Empire.”

“We’re going north to Sreng,” Felix deadpans.

“Might I remind you that I am Sylvain Gautier.” The Gautier family, also known as the ginger scourge of the north, also known as super doesn’t trade with the Srengese. For reasons.

Felix looks at him differently now that he knows Sylvain’s funneling his father’s goods to the people that his family has all but destroyed over the centuries, lips tugged into a small little frown. And for a moment, Sylvain is worried that Felix will call off the job and dump his shipment into the sea. Sylvain would. He’s inviting more trouble than his coin is probably worth, and that’s not just him talking about his mission.

But then Felix drops his arms and sighs. “It’s none of my business,” says Felix.

“Felix--”

“That’s Captain to you,” Felix cuts in, leveling Sylvain with a solid glare. Then he turns away without another word. Sylvain watches him retreat with a rare smile, truly interested in the man.

Captain, it is.

It becomes Felix’s business months later after a high seas firefight with one of Sylvain’s father’s ships. It’s the third run that they’ve done together after the first proved to be successful.

“Shit,” Sylvain groans, arching up from the cot he’s spread out on. Mercedes hushes him but doesn’t let up, pressing the disinfectant against him with more force. “Merce, that burns--”

“Surely not as bad as my ship does,” says Felix from the doorway.

Sylvain’s mouth dries up at the sight of him because Felix is beautiful when he’s on edge and wired red-hot, face smudged with sweat and soot. He scowls at the sight of Sylvain, softens slightly at the sight of Mercedes, and then acerbically asks for the room to be cleared. His crew does as he asks, leaving the two of them alone.

“For the record,” starts Sylvain, “I thought it’d take longer for him to come after his shit.”

“After you, you mean,” says Felix.

“I meant what I said,” says Sylvain. A pregnant silence stretches between them before Felix lets out an annoyed grunt, crossing the room and dropping into the chair beside where Sylvain’s laying. He jerks Sylvain’s shirt up with none of the tenderness that Mercedes is known for and Sylvain hisses at the touch.

“You’ll live,” says Felix once he gets a good look.

“So I’ll make it?” says Sylvain in jest.

“Unfortunately,” says Felix with a little bite to his tone. But then his tone softens a little. “As long as it’s stitched up right and you don’t pull at it.”

“You told Merce to leave.”

“She taught me how to sew,” says Felix, pulling open her medical kit.

“The holes in your clothes!” Sylvain’s seen Felix mend clothes on slow afternoons, laying out below the noon sun and enjoying the ocean breeze. It’s a nice sight, one that he’s come to like, even if it has to be observed from afar. Felix is so rarely relaxed and never so much around him.

“The concept is the same,” says Felix. Then he sighs. “Look, I know how to stitch up a wound. I’ve done it plenty.”

The War, Sylvain assumes then, where Faerghus lost their King to the Empire and the nobility left sold their souls to the enemy for a small chance at survival. Gautier’s done relatively well in the aftermath and reconstruction because brownnosing is what his father is best at. Felix had seemed more like a soldier than a pirate, something Sylvain noticed after just a week on board.

Sylvain doesn’t ask for an explanation and Felix doesn’t give one. Instead, he threads a needle with thick, coarse thread. He disinfects the gash in Sylvain’s side once more for good measure and then jabs the needle through his skin with little ceremony.

“Warn a man!” Sylvain shouts, trying his best to not jerk.

Felix’s mouth twitches into a smirk. “First time getting stitches, then.”

“No,” says Sylvain, but then a small whine bubbles up through his lips. “Yes.”

Sylvain’s seen battle like anyone else in his station, but as the former heir to the Gautier fortune, it’d been a figurehead title more than anything. He’d spent most of his wartime in tents on the backlines, moving figures around, and wooing bedmates to just feel a little bit of something in his pathetic misery.

“My ship will be fine,” says Felix, tugging at the gash to properly close it. “There’s more damage to the sails, but nothing that can’t be fixed.”

Sylvain is quiet for a moment. “I really am sorry.”

Felix is quiet for a moment too, and then he says, “It’s the job. Sometimes it goes well, sometimes it doesn’t. We’ve pulled through worse.”

“My only goal is to get food and clothing to the people who need it,” says Sylvain.

“I know. It’s the only reason that I haven’t thrown you overboard yet.” Felix pulls the thread tight and knots it, before cutting the excess. “For the record, we sunk their ship.”

“Good riddance,” says Sylvain.

Felix watches him as he wipes his hands off on a rag. “You hate him. Your father, I mean.”

“Hate’s a strong word.” But when he meets Felix’s gaze, Sylvain’s eyes are a testy sea storm, and he’s practically frothing at the mouth in barely contained rage. “Okay, hate’s not a strong enough word.”

“I understand,” says Felix in a rare moment of personal expression. He runs his fingers over Sylvain’s ribs under the pretense of checking the wound one last time, but to Sylvain, it feels like an entirely different sort of touch. Especially because it lingers for just a little bit too long to be merely friendly.

“Captain,” starts Sylvain, reaching out to grasp at his hand. Felix doesn’t pull away, allowing the touch.

“Felix,” says Felix. “You can-- Look, Felix is fine.”

“It’s fine,” murmurs Sylvain, his free hand snaking up to brush Felix’s sweaty bangs back. “Are you sure that my highly moral do-gooding is the only reason you haven’t thrown me overboard?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” says Felix, but it lacks bite as he leans into the touch.

“I’m glad I won’t die,” says Sylvain, “and I’m glad we’ll do more runs together.” A pause. “We will continue our business, right?”

“Fool,” says Felix.

“Your fool?” asks Sylvain hopefully.

“You’re pushing your luck.”

“Is it working?”

They look at each other for a moment before Felix swoops down, pressing a kiss against Sylvain’s lips. It’s a sweet thing, far sweeter than Sylvain expects Felix to be. It’s all softness, lacking his carefully honed sharp edges, warm and kind, and genuine.

“So it worked,” says Sylvain against his lips, unable to stop himself from slipping into his teasing mask. Felix pulls away, a soft scowl on his lips. He lets go and stands. “I was joking,” says Sylvain. “Joking!”

“I can still make you walk the plank,” says Felix coolly.

“But you won’t,” says Sylvain.

There’s a beat and then Felix smiles actually smiles, and it’s weirdly radiant and Sylvain never wants to stop seeing it. “No, I won’t,” says Felix quietly. “But I can make you suffer in the meantime.” Then he turns to leave the small room.

“Come back,” says Sylvain as pathetically as he can. “I’m sorry!”

But then he hears the soft murmurs of the crew outside and then a short laugh that is distinctly Felix’s. Sylvain smiles. He’s injured, they’ve lost their sails and his father has put a number on his head. But Sylvain does good; he funnels his father’s goods to the people who actually need them.

And he’s got Felix. He doesn’t really know how or why, but he’s somehow managed, and he has no intention of ever letting go. Sylvain’s placed a lot of bets in his life, but rarely pan out the way that he wants them too. But this time? He’s more than doubled his money, he’s doubled his entire life.

So when Sylvain smiles it’s the first time in a long time that it actually means something.

#sylvix #sylvain/felix #felix x sylvain #felix hugo fraldarius #sylvain jose gautier #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem fanfiction

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obsidiancreates · 5 years

Text

I Have Just One Question (Part Three)

Damien gulps, and speaks up. “Aria, I know you’re still grieving and you want a different answer, but please, you can’t possibly think-”

“I know,” Aria states. Her gun aims at Damien’s chest. “I know one of you did it. He was happy. He and I were happy together. He would never just leave me like that!”

You move in front of Damien. Try to calm down, you say. There’s no reason to get violent with this.

“With luck, and everyone’s cooperation, I won’t have to.” Aria lowers her gun, but doesn’t put it away. “My staff are watching the exists. No-one leaves the manor until I find out who killed my husband, and why.”

“I’m going to be interrogating you. Each and every one, individually.” She sneers. “Feel free to party while I do. Pretend like nothing ever happen, as you’ve done most of this past year. As my husband would say, drink up, and be merry.”

She motions to the chef, and he steps out of the way of the den. Benjamin stays put in front of the door.

And then, she points her gun at you.

“You first.”

She leads you up the stairs, into a small, dimly lit room. There’s two chairs, and a desk between them.

She takes a seat, and you take the one opposite.

“Do you know why you’re here?”

No, you answer. You didn’t even live in town back when Mark’s death occurred, and you certainly hadn’t been at the party.

“You’re here-” she says, leaning forward.

And then her cold eyes turn desperate, and her voice becomes the soft, soothing sound you’d heard from her before. “-because I need someone I can trust.”

You blink, confused.

“I need an inside man, so to speak. Someone who they think is on their side. Someone who they’re less likely to have their guard up around.”

Her voice is pleading, almost. “I know you probably think I’m crazy. But I know he didn’t kill himself. I know it the same as I know that the sun rises in the morning, and that snow is cold. It’s just a fact.”

“I trusted them. But...” she takes a deep breath, her voice breaking a bit. “One of them did this. One of them took my husband’s life. And they lied about it.”

She rubs her thumb against her ascot. “This is his. A part of him, left behind. It... it still smells like him.”

She looks at you again, crying. “I loved him. I loved him with all of my heart, and he loved me just as much. When we met, he was in danger of... doing something stupid. But the day we got married he promised that he would never, ever leave me.”

She puts her hands on yours. “Please, will you help me? Will you help me get justice for him?”

You look into her eyes. They’re so desperate, filled with the tears of having gone too long with no answers, no peace.

You... are the district attorney.

Finding justice is kind of your thing.

...

You’ll do it, you say.

She smiles, relief washing over her features. “Thank you,” she sobs, still smiling. “Oh, thank you.”

You move your hands so that you’re holding hers. You let her cry for a minute, and then she gathers herself together. She takes out a handkerchief and dabs at her eyes. She takes a deep breath and goes back to her steely facade as best she can, though her voice still shakes a bit as she talks.

“That night, I went out to the garden, and Mark was still alive. It took me about fifteen minutes to get to where I was, and I stayed out there for at least another fifteen. And then, of course, it took me fifteen minutes to get back.”

She snarls. “One of them killed him in that time.”

“I just need you to listen in on them. If any of them should sneak away together, follow. If they confide in you, remember every detail. I’ll check back in with you come morning, if I’ve not gotten a confession by then.”

You nod. Truth be told, you’re not sure that you think anyone here is a murderer. But what’s the harm in investigating a little bit? If you’re right and no-one is guilty, you;ll just prove their innocence.

And if you’re wrong...

You hope you’re not wrong.

“I’ll let my staff know that you’ve agreed to help. When you leave, please send William in. Good luck, and again, thank you.”

She opens the door, and you walk out of the room.

When you get back downstairs, you find Damien waiting for you, terrified. “Are you okay? What did she do to you? She’s... I don’t know what’s happened to her. I knew grief could mess with one’s mind but...”

You’re fine, you assure him. She just questioned you about if you’d come across anything suspicious about Mark’s death in your time as The DA, if you’d ever looked over the case or had any new evidence come in.

“Thank goodness,” Damien breathes. “I was wondering why she’d invited you. Though given her mental state, I suppose that’s a more legitimate reason than it could have been.”

You nod. It hurts, lying to Damien. But he’s fiercely loyal, almost to a fault. He’d be sure to tell William and the others about your mission, if you shared it with him.

And... he’s a suspect. It hurts even worse to admit that, but it’s true. He’s a suspect, and must be treated as one. No exceptions just because of your personal relationship.

You agree and say you have to go get William.

“Right, right. Very well.” He pauses, and then takes your hand. “I... I’m sorry, you’ve been dragged into this.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. Yes, you say as you stare into the suspects concerned eyes, you are too.

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(Sorry, bit of a boring one, but it’s establishing important shit so ah well.)

Iplier taglist: @victory-cookies @beerecordings @septic-dr-schneep @sadcat5555 @a-humble-narcissus @kangaroo-roux @kairomancerr@miishae @lonelyseiren @takethepainawaybae @immabethehero @quagswag-the-great @lordjim777 @projectwkm @musical-in-theory (hey so @eternallyanxiousandstressed asked to be on the taglist but for some reason I can’t tag them so... if anyone could do that for me I would appreciate it.) @hypnobakerysharkskeleton @stuff-from-the-void-matron

#Markiplier #Who Killed Markiplier #WKM AU #wkm district attorney #wkm y/n #Markiplier egos #Aria's an OC obviously #WKM Damien #wkm william #fanfic #my attempts at fanfic

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pluto-art · 4 years

Text

@thenostalgicnighthawk said:

I love your art, and I am a huge Pinky and the Brain fan as well. But why would you do this to Brain? It's very cruel, morbid, and sick. Though the Elmyra spin-off did happen, I never think about it because of how bad it was, and pretend that it they never got into her grasp. I see all the episodes as all of Brain's nightmares.

I love drawing my favorite characters as well (especially Pinky and the Brain), and I found these (and the one about impaling) disturbing. I feel like you have a love for hurting Brain, and I find it very sad. Brain is an amazing, complex, interesting character who deserves so much better than this.

I love drawing and I am obsessed with Pinky and the Brain as well. I can talk for hours about them and I draw them all the time. Maybe I'm too passionate, and I am very sorry if I sounded rude. I just don't like seeing characters that mean the world to me, like Brain, dead or in pain. But keep up the drawing! You are very talented and I love your drawing style.

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

Ha-ha. Ho, boy. I was waiting for someone to confront me about this and the day has finally come. I’m actually going to reply to you here on this blog, which is something I don’t normally do, but I think everyone deserves an explanation, yourself included, and I’ll try to be as lucid about it as possible.

Whump. In the Urban Dictionary, it is defined as:

A fandom term, commonly used by fan fiction authors (particularly in the Stargate genre) to describe physical and/or mental abuse laid on a character in a story.

I like whump. I write it. I read it. I draw it. This is something I’ve only ever told a few close friends in private. Admitting this publicly is... a little out of my comfort zone, as it’s not something exactly accepted by everyone, and understandably so. Only recently did I even become aware that a leaning towards this kind of content had a term, thanks to a friend of mine.

Whump can range from everything from sick fics to extreme torture/abuse. While I do have my own, personal limits on what I’ll draw, write, and/or read (e.g., the impaling idea; I started to draw it and couldn’t, because it disturbed me too much), there are some areas I’m not afraid to traverse, and this includes death scenes, characters in varying degrees of emotional pain, and mental torture. Again, I have my limits, but I’m not entirely averse to such content either.

So why do I like it? For one reason:

The emotional aspect.

I’m a storyteller, and when writing, whether it be for a book of fiction, a film screenplay, or a fan work, one thing that’s core to a character arc, especially in movie scripts, is bringing that individual to their lowest point. You push them far in part so that they grow, so that the arc has a strong climax, and so as the resolution is all the more satisfying when said character overcomes every obstacle thrown against them.

I tend to linger in the “growing pains” camp, playing around with that emotional element. How would they react to ‘x’ situation? How far would you have to push them to evoke this or that emotion from them? This especially applies to stubborn characters and individuals that project a crusty exterior, yet harbor a soft heart underneath. They seem so heartless on the outside, but if you break past that mental wall you find a gummy center on the inside of the lollypop. But if they’re particularly averse to showing that tender part of them, you have to push harder for them to show it. This appeals to me. How far would you have to push...?

Now, granted, what I’m doing to poor Brain here isn’t connected to character development or a script, except for when I’m writing fan fiction. Again, it’s about pushing the emotional element. It tugs at my heartstrings when a character I love is in great physical and/or mental pain, and I want to heal that so very badly, which is why you will see the occasional composition depicting him in a very serene and peaceful atmosphere, but I also, as an artist, like to play around with expressions and poses to sort of challenge myself: How sad can I push this expression? If something were to happen to them, what would it look like? Can I convey that in ‘x’ manner? Think of it as an emotional “high” of sorts. The more I play around with their emotions... the more I feel for the character. It satisfies that high, but it also makes me really sad. Oh, the irony.

I’m not going to pretend it’s not morbid. It is. Please understand, though, I would NEVER do this kind of thing to any living creature, human or animal. EVER. I know you only have my word to go by, but there is no way, on this Earth, that I would hurt Brain if he was real. If he was real I’d want to hold him in my arms and comfort him. If he was real I’d want to wrap him in a warm blanket and give him tea or coffee by a fireplace. If he was real I’d want to give him all the time and space in the world he needed to concoct his plans. If he was real I’d want him to know how loved and cared about he is.

Not that he’d accept any of this. He’s stubborn. Heh. But I’d try.

It’s weird, ‘cause like... I love them. I legit love them. But I also put them through all of this torture when they already go through enough. Why bother? Again, it’s the whump factor. I like experimenting/playing with emotions. I find drama and sad moments evoke the most emotion out of a character and find this incredibly interesting to study. Anyone reading this is welcome to judge me as harshly as they want. I probably deserve it.... But I probably shouldn’t hide who I am and what I like either. Again, I’m not a sadistic person or anything. Far from it. But I suppose this would be considered one of my guilty pleasures when it comes to writing, reading, and drawing only and... yeah.... It’s weird....

Thank you so much, by the way, for your kind comments on my work. I don’t think you’re being rude at all. You have a legitimate question that deserved an answer! If anything, thanks for calling me out on it, ‘cause it was probably about time. Lol. I can’t promise I’ll stop uploading sad content. If anything, I can assure you there will be more. Heh. And if it’s particularly disturbing I try to remember to tag it. But yeah.... I appreciate you commenting. :)

That said, this was still a tiny bit nerve-wracking to admit publicly for the first time. I’m gonna go hide in my hole now....

#thenostalgicnighthawk #whump #*deep breaths*#oh boy....#okay #I'm legit kinda nervous #probably gonna lose followers over this...#if brain was real and saw any of the things I've drawn or written #I'd probably get slapped upside the head #and I'd 100% deserve it #in my head I've apologized to him over and over and over #'cause sometimes I'll look at my work and be like #...... why the CRAP am I drawing this? why am I hurting him? why...???#*sigh*#heh #I'm listening to Human Nature right now and Michael keeps singing -why? why?- and I'm like... yeah... why?#ha...#I'm sorry brain...#I'm so sorry.......

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zetalial · 5 years

Text

I can’t stand Ling

Random rant about how much I dislike Ling Yao. Sorry if you like Ling, I just can’t. Feel free to argue with me if you like - this ended up way, way longer and more detailed than it needed to be. I try not to dwell on characters I dislike so don’t expect a dozen more spite posts - this is a one off. I decided I’d feel better by writing it out.

But I really do dislike him. He annoyed me from the first moment he appeared in episode 15 of BH where he behaves absolutely obnoxiously throughout the entire episode and continued to annoy right up until he got consumed with Greed. And his ending annoyed me.

Part 1 - First appearance

First impression are everything, right? I’m willing to change my mind if a character has hidden depths of course but if their character is plain irritating, that impression tends to last.

Okay, so he’s passed out in a random alley and Ed and Al find him - which is by the way a huge plot contrivance. They’re in Rush Valley in the South and Ling will explicitly tell them that he travelled to Amestris via the Xerxes ruins which are the North-East. And he seems to be heading to Central, there’s no reason for him to be in Rush valley let alone in a random alley alone so Ed and Al can help him. (This is a minor point though, I can deal with a couple of contrivances.)

After Ed and Al help him out, giving him food, he asks about the Philosopher’s stone and Ed tells them they don’t know anything - and the Philosopher’s stone is evil by the way, seeking power from the stone is dangerous - will Ling ever have to question his desire for the Stone and the source of its power? Ha, no.

So Ling decides to sic his ninja bodyguards on Ed and Al! They said they didn’t know anything! Given how rare information on the stone is, that’s completely reasonable but oh Ling just knows that they’re hiding something about it? And thinks attacking two kids he knows nothing about is a great idea?

Lan Fan and Fuu do not hold back either, they use explosives and knives and cause loads of damage in their fight when Ed and Al haven’t even done anything! It’s a cool fight but the circumstances make me hate it! We get a shot of Ling casually eating a big meal while this is all going on to show how little he cares. Oh and he makes Ed pay the bill for it.

When Ed and Al do manage to win, Ling is completely unapologetic and allows Ed to get all the blame for the damages he caused when he sent his people to attack Ed and Al. When Ed comes back to see Winry, she is furious at him for damaging his automail again and Ling’s just there again, casually breaking in to Ed’s place, insisting on tagging along even though Ed tells him not to. Ling doesn’t face a single consequence for any of this by the way. Ling does explain his status here explaining that he wants the Stone to become emperor of Xing which is... yeah still quite a selfish goal.

And then there’s the conversation at the end of the episode where Fuu asks Ling why he’s putting up with Ed and Al, who are beneath him. Eh? This is Ling being nice? Ed and Al have been fairly nice, helping him in that alley, listening to his story and their anger was entirely justified at how obnoxious Ling has been this entire episode. But oh Ling is supposedly bowing his head to someone so far beneath him? Ling realises there’s bigger things than a little humility when his clan’s fate is in the balance? What do appearances matter then?

So you’re telling me that being the most obnoxious and annoying person ever was deliberate? All he achieved was making Ed and Al and me absolutely hate him! I’m going to ignore this conversation about Ling seeming wise and having a bigger plan because it doesn’t match up with anything else in the entire episode.

Now, I don’t mind flawed characters - but Ling never gets called out on any of his behaviour and never gets asked to change. Lan Fan is ridiculously devoted to him right from the beginning and the only way we see it as a flaw is that she’s so defensive she loses her cool just from hearing Ling get insulted. Quite why she is so loyal is never explored and I know she’s only a side character but you know I could really use a legitimate reason to like Ling.

Part 2 - Ling’s leadership?

Okay, his first appearance was just a comedy episode so I’ll just be kind and dismiss it. What’s Ling like when the plot gets a bit more serious then? In Central, Ed and Al hatch a plan to catch a homunculus by getting Scar to attempt to kill them and Ling volunteers to help fight the homunculi while Ed and Al deal with Scar.

So Ling and Lan Fan get into a fight with Wrath and Gluttony and Ling reveals that he’s also a superb fighter too because why not? Like, Lan Fan takes a nasty injury from Wrath but Ling manages to hold him off and runs away while carrying Lan Fan. That’s downright crazy alone - that Ling is such a competent fighter he can hold off Wrath while carrying Lan Fan! Isn’t Lan Fan meant to be the trained bodyguard?

Okay so his fighting skills are ridiculous, fine it’s a shonen anime, everyone can fight, whatever. It’s the conversation with Wrath that really gets to me though.

Wrath tells him that if he let go of Lan Fan, he might have a have a chance of escaping. Ling interprets this weirdly and goes on about how a true ruler cares about his subjects and so would never abandon his people and says that Bradley is no true King.

Shut up Ling. Bradley isn’t hiding behind others here, he’s fighting you one-on-one, not sacrificing minions. And you aren’t Amestrian so you have no reason to know about Bradley’s other decisions as a leader so how can you so confidently criticise him? (Bradley is an interesting character who totally shines when being challenged by the heroes but I hate Ling doing it here.) I mean, isn’t Ling the one who orders his minions to fight while he eats breakfast and lets someone else pay for the consequences?

Okay, so I shouldn’t take that fight seriously because it’s not meant to be serious. How about the current one? Ling volunteered to help with Ed’s plan and that lead to Lan Fan risking her life for him! Sure, Lan Fan agreed because she’s stupidly loyal but this was Ling’s plan and she got hurt! Her injuries are as much his fault as anyone’s.

Ling choosing not to abandon her is nice, sure. But given she got hurt following him, I’d call it being a decent human being, rather than a true paragon of leadership! And that’s if I’m to accept that any of this makes one particularly good for being a leader anyway. Ling is kind of extremely reckless. Did I mention the part where he disappeared on his bodyguards just because, leading them to worry as he was passed out on the street in the middle of Central? And then got arrested? Gosh he’s irresponsible. He is so lucky that worked out so easily.

Bradley doesn’t refute Ling’s words, just saying something about how there are no true kings in this world while Ling attempts to escape, still carrying Lan Fan. And there’s another annoying plot hole here where Lan Fan lets off a flashbomb and Ling takes the chance to escape but Wrath reveals his other eye under the eyepatch, preventing Ling’s escape. And then it cuts to the next scene and... Ling has escaped the room!

He’s still running away from Wrath while carrying Lan Fan and despite how fast Wrath is, Ling manages to get pretty far away somehow. Far enough that Lan Fan successfully cuts off her arm, then they tie it to a dog, and escape through the sewers all before Wrath catches up to him. This whole sequence was all off-screen!

In case we haven’t got enough of Ling being awesome, our next scene of him has him jumping out of the sewers with his shirt off where he proceeds to capture Gluttony. Heh, I guess there’s nothing wrong with that but I can’t help but feel like I’m really supposed to like Ling here and love the badass moments and I cannot. I’m upset that the scene where Ling is forced tie her arm to a dog while Lan Fan is bleeding out beside him was cut as that’s the kind of scene that would get me to actually like him. Not scenes of him being an awesome fighter.

Part 3 - The part I don’t hate

Ling is a character with flaws and room for growth, which is something I can appreciate. But these earlier flaws are presented as just comic relief. That’s what annoys me - I usually like characters who can be obnoxious jerks so long as their flaws aren’t just blatantly laughed off as a joke.

In the next few episode we do get to see a more serious and conflicted Ling. This is Ling at his most interesting. He feels guilty about what Lan Fan’s done for him when he was too weak to do so himself and is determined that her sacrifice has meaning. So he’s got the hero flaw of caring too much.

This leads to an interesting conflict where Ling, Roy and Ed all fight over Gluttony and his philosopher's stone. Ed wants it for Alphonse and points out it was his plan. Roy wants it to heal Havoc. Ling wants it to become emperor and argues about what Lan Fan’s sacrificed so that they could catch the homunculus. Sadly, Gluttony breaks free then so this argument isn’t explored any further here.

At the end of the series we see how they’ve changed in this regard. Ling finally has a stone and even though he’s just lost Greed to another sacrifice, he freely offers the stone to Edward to save Al. Ed refuses. So this stuff is all interesting and I really do wish the conflict and resolution wasn’t so brief (and that Roy wasn’t just given a stone to cure his blindness but I digress.)

Next, Ling gets swallowed by Gluttony and there’s more comedy which is still a touch irritating but not nearly so bad as his first few appearances. Ling collapses again with no energy and this should be serious but it’s still presented as comic again. I can’t take Ling’s fainting spells seriously as it’s played for comedy every. Single. Time. That aside, Ling is at his most tolerable here and it’s interesting how determined he is against Envy in contrast to Ed’s horror at Envy’s true form slowing him down. When they’re out, Ling distrust of Father is also good.

And finally we get to Ling accepting Greed into his body. Again he’s being super-reckless and he’s sort of being called out on this as Ed urges him to fight but Ling decides not to. Again we get this characterisation of Ling as someone willing to surrender and lose face to get what he wants. As he said to Fuu when he first met Ed, appearances don’t matter in the long run. He can bow his head when the situation requires. Fighting Greed here would be pointless.

(This is in contrast to Ed who is prideful and can never accept defeat. In Gluttony’s stomach we see him marching relentlessly onward even though its futile. Later, we see Ed’s growth where he agrees to be Greed’s minion, letting go of his useless pride as he realises he can gain something by humbling himself.)

I wish this was explored a bit more too though. It feels more like Ling’s recklessly jumping at the chance to gain immortality despite having been told repeatedly that its a bad idea and, though it seems like he faces consequences in getting consumed by Greed, it eventually works out quite well for him. (Okay that’s a bit harsh, I love Greed’s struggle.) And it seems like its more like luck than any cleverness on his part, which is kinda irksome with how lucky Ling is generally.

So yeah, I like where he’s serious and gets challenged but I feel like it rarely happens. Ling’s other flaws just feel like they’re all comedy where the joke is that he’s rude and obnoxious and pushy and gets away with it. None of his other appearances stop his personality from grating on me. At the beginning of the series, he thinks he’s going to find the secret to immortality and be a great leader and apparently he’s completely correct. Not that I want him to fail, I just don’t like his initial character when I feel like I’m supposed to and most of the character development with Greedling feels like its solely for Greed. Eh I’ve rambled on enough now.

I actually love Greed’s character, he’s really interesting and I adore his development. My hatred is purely directed at Ling.

#fma #fmab #fullmetal alchemist #Wow this turned out long #heh sorry I ramble #but yeah it's cool if you're a fan of Ling #I just seriously overread into characters sometimes #and my sense of humour isn't suited to fmab #fmab crit #meta #myposts #but sometimes a sour first impression can leave a lasting impact

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ledamemangociana · 5 years

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2020 20 questions meme time UWU

i was tagged by @decertatio to do this! i havent spent enough time on here recently to tag anyone, B U T! if you see this and would like to do this, consider yourself tagged, and let me know! i wanna read your answers UWU

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1. Do you make your bed? - GAWD NO, at least not 70% of the time, im so bad at this. it’s coz on the weekdays, i start working at 6:30am or 7am at home coz my bosses are in Australia and a lot of our clients are in Australia and/or New Zealand, and they’re 3 or 4 hours ahead of us, so i gotta get on those emails and support case tickets as soon as i can, so i give myself about an hour to catch up, and then i hurry out of the condo to get to the office before im marked late at 10am lolololol. on the weekends, when im at home, BECAUSE im just at home, i never fix my bed coz im in it 85% of the time anyway lakdjf

2. What’s your favorite number? - 13, cliche as it sounds. not coz i think it’s lucky or anything, but because other people around me thought it was. i kind of clung onto it when i was in high school coz i wanted to fit in by standing out.

3. What’s your job? - An accounts and client services manager at a digital services agency.

4. If you could, would you go back to school? - Probably not. I love learning, HATE studying.

5. Can you parallel park? - i never got far enough into being taught how to drive by mom to get to parking

6. A job you had which would surprise people? I think every job I’ve ever held, tbh. I graduated interior design mainly because my dad told me to when i asked him if i should enroll in advertising instead (the entrance exam i passed was good for either course). the only ID job i ever had lasted only two weeks, at a firm i had to do my internship/OJT at. it was my first job, and i was let go after two weeks. after that, i was a call center agent for two months, and then a copywriter for 6 months, and then an SEO specialist for a year and a half, and then a social media content/community manager at one firm for one year, and then for another agency for 3 and a half, and now im in my second year as an accounts manager at a digital services cloud agency. even i’m surprised at this job list tbh.

7. Do you think aliens are real? - i absolutely do believe that we are not the only life in this big, huge, wide, expansive universe that the planet earth is but a miniscule blip on. there’s definitely other life out there.

8. Can you drive a manual car? - i haven’t driven a car legitimately outside of learning how to drive, but yeh i probably can, since that was what my mom taught me with.

9. What’s your guilty pleasure? - junk food and soft drinks, but in general i try not to feel guilty about anything i take pleasure in

10. Tattoos? - none, but i am ACHING for them. i’ve had ideas for a loooong time. one that i DEFINITELY want to get as my first one is part of a letter that i found that my mom wrote for me in high school. “i know that you will be able to stand up for yourself and the world will stop and take notice.” i still have the letter, so i still have it in her handwriting. i want it on the inside of my left forearm.

11. Favorite color? - Pink! lighter/softer/pastel shades are my preferred ones, but i love any shade or hue of pink tbh

12. Things people do that drive you crazy? - i hate fake guilt trips. like, when someone wants me to do something that i can’t do, they’ll come in with like “nah, it’s fine, i’ll just drop all these SUPER IMPORTANT things im doing and go out of my way to do this thing that im asking you to do because i’m SOOOOO sorry that you’re unable to do it yourself” coz it’s like...dude, if you really were able to do that or if you wanted to actually do that, you wouldn’t have asked me to do the thing in the first place. like, you’re clearly just saying that to make me feel bad enough to make me drop everything im doing and do whatever it is you asked me to do. i also hate when ppl fish for compliments by being falsely humble or self-deprecating. like. PLEASE, y’all, i’ve lived with negative amounts of self-esteem for literal decades, i know the difference between actual self-loathing and you just wanting to hear good things about yourself that you don’t want to be called narcissistic for saying about yourself. i know what it sounds like when someone is actually going THRU something or is actually having an actual hard time accepting themselves and/or asking people for what they need as opposed to when someone just wants to be told something. like. don’t insult my intelligence and experiences like that. granted, there are nuances to consider for all of these things, bUT like i said, i know the differences when i see them.

13. Any Phobias? - i have a phobia of drowning that’s light enough to NOT keep me away from water but bad enough to sometimes make watching or listening to scenes where someone could potentially drown to set some triggers off for me. i also just have a really really bad fear of dying because of getting my oxygen cut off, coz that sounds like a really slow, painful way to die.

14. Favorite childhood sport? - i was never really a sports kid. the only sport i ever really enjoyed playing willingly was badminton. i trained for a few summers but never competed, but i got good enough to make games in a court fun. i still have my badminton racquet, it’s the only Legit™ badminton racquet in the house (it’s a Yonex, handed down to me by my trainer, only been restrung twice or thrice coz the last restringing was done so damn well), all the other racquets were inexpensive unbranded knock-offs that were good enough for me and my family to have casual games with.

15. Do you talk to yourself? - yes but mostly as a product of deep focus or concentration, or really heavy emotion. having social media has lessened doing it for the latter since i can just vent on here or on twitter, but when im doing stuff for work that’s hard or needs a lot of focus or concentration, i have full-on stand-up meetings with myself.

16. What movie do you adore? - “Romy And Michele’s High School Reunion.” it’s not a perfect movie by any means, but for someone who was a bullied outcast for much of elementary and high school years in a private, all-girls, Catholic school where everyone was tall and thin and pretty and pale and smart and popular, ALL the things that i wasn’t, it was - is? - like a beacon or a hug.

17. Do you like doing puzzles? - heck yeh, coz solving them makes me feel smart, and not being able to solve them but learning HOW to is so much fun for me.

18. Favorite kind of music? - i don’t know that i have one, to be honest, i haven’t listened to current radio in literal YEARS because i dont own a radio in the condo, i barely watch TV anymore, and i dont spend enough time in a vehicle to really know what’s up. i enjoy pop, hip-hop, rnb, showtunes.

19. Tea or coffee? - more of a coffee person myself, actual tea always just tastes LEGITIMATELY like leaf water to me, and i cant find a liking for it. i do really love sweet tea and milktea tho. but yeh, im mostly a bean juice person.

20. The first thing you remember you wanted to be when you grew up? - An architect, like my dad. i thought i would be one, up until i discovered writing in high school, and then i thought i wanted to become a journalist until i took it up as my first course in college and hated it. but yeh, it was always “architect! like daddy!” when i was asked that question when i was a kid. i looked up to him so much as a kid, and he and i were super tight when i was younger coz i was his firstborn and a daughter. we used to call each other best friends. i miss those days a lot; things between us seemed simpler, but maybe that’s because i didn’t have the ideals, knowledge and capacity to question the way he loves/loved me as My Parent™. our relationship these days is absolutely skewed and skewered.

#personalciana #Mango Goes to Jail #memeciana

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sotheywrotestories · 5 years

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The Spy and the One Who Wasn’t |bucky barnes| Chapter Three: The Problem With Fear

Warnings: A bit more violence. Yelling. Fear

Summary: Wherein Wanda finds out

Read Chapter Two Point One Here

Bucky felt as though (Y/N) had been lying to them all, just for the attention.

The more he got to know her, the more he drifted back to the idea that she wasn’t special at all. That she didn’t have some mind-blowing power and that she was just like Natasha, raised in the Red Room and sent out to assassinate who knows.

But Tony swore up and down that she had something special about her. That she most definitely belonged on the team. It wasn’t until Steve walked out of her mission de-brief, eyes wide and face pale that Bucky had someone to believe.

“So what was it,” Bucky pestered Steve. “What does she do?”

Both soldiers had taken residency to the kitchen, one with the newspaper in front him, the other sticking magnet on his arm to see how many he could have while still having full mobility of his arm.

“I can’t say, Bucky, it’s confidential, and you know that,” Steve rolled his eyes. “Besides, even if I could tell you, it wouldn’t be my place to. That’s her decision to make, not mine.”

“Well I think we can all damn well see that she won’t be making that decision anytime soon-“ Bucky started to growl.

“And, do you have a problem?” (Y/N) bit back, having just walked into the kitchen to make a smoothie.

“A little bit,” Bucky admits. “I just want to know who you really are, doll.”

“I’m (Y/N) (L/N).” She moved to the fridge. “For the past three months, I’ve lived with the Avengers. I have thus far gone on one solo mission, which was successful, might add. I came from Hydra, from a group that S.H.I.E.L.D. has deemed so classified that I am not allowed to even write down my own feelings on my past from Hydra. What else do you want to know, James?”

“What can you do? What makes you so special to this team?” Bucky snapped back.

“What makes you so special?” (Y/N) blurted.

“Guys,” Steve stood up, his voice stern and commanding. “Don’t fight about this.”

Bucky and (Y/N) continued to glare at each other until she tossed her plastic mixer into the sink and stormed off.

“Bucky,” Steve sighed disappointedly as he folded his paper and placed his yogurt bowl into the sink. “You know how you don’t want to tell someone you don’t know anything about your past? Maybe she doesn’t, either.”

***

Bucky did feel bad about how he had treated (Y/N) earlier that day. But he had trust issues. And at some point, if she really wanted to be his friend, she would have let him in.

But when could he stop using his trust issues as a crutch?

And he wanted to apologize to her because she didn’t deserve what he said to her. He knew she was useful, she managed to drag home three agents by herself. Bucky might have even had an issue with that, especially since they both came from Hydra.

And he was going to apologize. That was legitimately why he was walking back into the commons area. Not that he didn’t want to see her right away, but he wanted to talk to Steve first, to be sure he wasn’t going to mess something up.

But this was what lead him to discover (Y/N) anyway, cowering on the couch as Wanda yelled accusations at her.

Wanda wasn’t typically a very confrontational person, only when she needed to be. Which lead Bucky to believe (Y/N) had done something awful.

“You’re a spy,” Wanda spat with finality.

“I’m not,” (Y/N) shook her head, then continued to whisper that under her breath over and over, to herself.

“Then why is what I see-“ Wanda began.

“You looked into my head?” (Y/N) screamed, her hands flying into her hair and her knees drawing up to her chest as tight as possible.

“Not on purpose,” Wanda backpedaled a moment. “I didn’t mean to! But…I am happy I did. Because now I know I need to report you to Fury.”

“He won’t say anything,” (Y/N) jumped up. “Wanda you have to understand those thoughts aren’t mine-“

“So you’re being controlled?” Wanda yelled.

By this time, Steve, Tony, and Sam had all run into the room, geared for a fight but not expecting what they found.

“Wanda, back off,” Tony warned.

“What are you hiding for her,” Wanda narrowed her eyes at Tony, now stepping closer to him.

“Wanda-“ Bucky began, knowing all too well the look of fear in (y/N)’s eyes.

“She wants to kill us!” Wanda screamed.

“(Y/N)?” Natasha asked, moving from behind Steve. Where Bucky assumed, she had been waiting. “(Y/N) wants to kill us?”

“Yes!”

“No!”

Both girls yelled.

“I don’t want to-“

“-you haven’t seen-“

“I swear that it’s not-

“-don’t lie again-“

 “That’s what they want from me!”

(Y/N) had tears running down her cheeks, now, and her hands were firmly planted on her chest.

“They’re not…,” (Y/N) heaved. “They’re not. Me.”

“Kid,” Tony put his hand out. “You don’t have to prove yourself.”

“I do,” (Y/N) stood straight. “It’s clear I have no place here until you know what I’ve done and I am sick and tired of all of you treating me like I’m some sort of danger!”

Bucky caught her eye and immediately felt guilty. He didn’t mean to make her feel unwanted, he just wanted her to open up a little bit.

“I um…yeah-“

“(Y/N), don’t,” Steve warned. “It’s not worth it.”

(Y/N) shrugged. “I’m either going to be seen as a killer or as a spy, so I might as well clear my name.”

Bucky held his breath, his hands shaking. Tony had a deep frown on his face, clearly, he didn’t like the idea of (Y/N) sharing her life story, but Wanda and Natasha looked slightly intrigued.

“I’m a Hydra product,” (Y/N) whispered. “I’m a Hydra product and to this date, I have killed 42 people.” She winced. “44, sorry. And It’s terrifying, what I do. Because it’s not quick, and it’s certainly not painless. But I get the job done, and it’s not messy. And Hydra loved it. Because I clean up.

“I take your deepest, darkest fear, and I bring it to light. I make you live through every regret, ever pain, every last nightmare you have, until you can’t take it anymore.”

The more (Y/N) spoke, the more he realized why she didn’t want anyone to know what she did. It was terrifying. And he will admit, he is a bit scared of her, now.

“But I don’t have to see them.” (Y/N) bit her lip, avoiding eye contact with everyone. “I can just…do it. And then…I started to do it on accident when I was still at Hydra. My guards would keel over and die at random times.

“Hydra sent me away and Fury picked me up. And for two years I lived on the raft. Learning how to control myself.”

Natasha had a look of pure horror on her face, silently dropping into the nearest armchair as she understood how dangerous (Y/N) was.

“The downfall to this-“

“Is the amount of pain you’ve inflicted? The guilt you carry?” Sam interrupted, his voice gruff.

Bucky couldn’t tell if he was unhappy or not.

“No,” (Y/N) winced. “I mean yes. Of course…that…kills. But…the more I suppress reaching into everyone’s mind and learning about your deepest fears, is that I absorb them, instead. And I don’t mean to. But that’s why people find it calming around me…because I’m slowly taking away your fears.

“After I take them, they become my own. And each one of my fears gets amplified a little more.

“That’s what you saw,” (Y/N) turned to Wanda, her voice quiet. “Me, killing you all. That’s the fear that’s been slowly building the more and more I’m around and one day I’m going to snap.”

Steve and Tony had looked away, already knowing what the girl’s fate was, should they not find her a way to channel the fear somewhere else, somewhere other than her own head.

Bucky felt horrible. He wasn’t afraid of her. She wouldn’t hurt them, he could see it in her eyes. She didn’t have the guts to do it.

“Doll,” Bucky rasped.

“Don’t,” (Y/N) furrowed her eyebrows. “Now you know. Go ahead. Tell everyone what you know. I’ll be in my room.”

***

Bucky didn’t fear (Y/N). It appeared that neither did Tony or Steve. Natasha did.

Or, maybe it wasn’t fear. Maybe she was more worried about what (Y/N) WOULD do now that Natasha knew what she COULD do. It didn’t help that (Y/N) had locked herself in her room, avoiding all questions and not even trying to defend herself against what Natasha had to say.

There wasn’t much Bucky could do to defend her, either. As much as he wanted to, he knew nothing about her. I mean…he knew, now, why she was so terrified to share her past, but how could he defend her against that? What could he do?

What terrified him, was when some man showed up at the tower. He was tall, dark skinned, with dark, curly hair. He didn't introduce himself, just walked through the compound, waved at Tony, then disappeared into (Y/N)'s room. Bucky knew it was more jealousy than fear that he felt in his bones, but he still didn't appreciate this new guy.

"His name is Al," Steve said, watching Bucky glare at (Y/N)'s door. "He's here to help."

But when Bucky laid at night, listening to her screams, he wasn't so sure.

Tags;

@thatcluelessone @ima-fucking-nerd @embrace-themagic @fireboltrose5737@whatdafricklefrackle@peeterparkr @sherlokiantheatrenerd @legit-fandom-trash @abitchformarvel @dark-night-sky-99 @dreams-of-feysand

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #barnes x reader #marvel x reader #the spy and the one who wasn't

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