#not because I condone those but because the point of a story is to tell something. to have a narrative. and in real life there are people

[ohdeerfully]

hi! I have a request, I've never really done this before but I'll give it a shot. so my request is that Charlie is tasked by heaven to watch over a very special human soul via a device that is like a full 360 VR kind of setup and this soul just so happens to be Alastor's immortal wife (he didn't know she was) whom he thought had died with him during a bad event and wound up in heaven but she didn't and She stayed the same since the 1930s like her looks stayed the same and her love for Alastor stayed too she never once tried to move on even when her new friends in this time tried to get her a guy but she just refused still wearing the wedding ring her gave her

I hope it's not too much to ask it can be changed to whatever you see if you have full creative control over it!

thank you for your brain anon

theres a couple awkward POV shifts in the story and im super duper sorry about that D: im not good at those

An Eternity

alastor x reader (angst) TW: reader is female, reader gets a lil drunk and drives but shes fine(i do not condone this pls dont drink and drive im so serious), yearning goes ouchie ):

join my discord!

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Alastor rarely, if ever, talked about his time alive. He saw it pointless; a waste of time and energy. How could it benefit him if somebody else knew his history? If anything, it would only open up weak points. And, being an Overlord, he couldn’t afford that.

The only hint of his past was a band on his finger that he never took off. Even after decades in Hell, nobody saw him without it.

People often asked, of course, because how in the Hell did the Radio Demon get hitched? Even in life, he was probably just as unusual and off putting. These questions were always met with a dismissive wave and a laugh, but anybody who knew him—which wasn’t many, truly—would recognize the strain in his voice as he brushed them off. Whatever the story was seemed to only grow more painful with time.

He was deep in thought, humming absently as he trailed through the hotel. He ended up meandering by Charlie’s room, which was cracked open. He took this as an invitation to let himself in, cheerfully grinning as he saw the girl sitting on the edge of her bed looking extremely confused.

“Hello, dear!” He announced himself, standing up straight and fixing his bowtie with one hand. “What does this afternoon have in store for the Princess of Hell?”

“Heyy, Al,” Charlie responded, still frowning at the contraption in her hand. It was a rather bulky thing; an unappealing piece of new technology, Alastor decided. Still, he loomed from behind Charlie with a curious bend in his neck. Her shoulders were stiff, and he couldn’t tell if it was from frustration with the thing in her hand or discomfort at him watching her. 

“What is that peculiar thing?” He finally asked, since Charlie made no attempt at explanation. She seemed too focused to really pay him any mind.

“Something Heaven gave me to watch some curious soul they can’t control,” She murmured, fiddling with a couple buttons and knobs. “They’ve got me doing some ridiculous things. I mean, some human soul shouldn’t even concern me. But, they promise these favors will help with my hotel.”

Alastor hummed in response. He of all demons would recognize a manipulation tactic when he saw one—convincing a powerful demon princess to do your chores and promising to help her desperate project in return seemed like something the angels would do. He didn’t care one way or another, as long as Charlie’s naivete didn’t get in the way of his own goals.

He took a few steps back when Charlie stood, seemingly finished with setting up the box. He grinned, amused, when she pulled it over her head. It wasn’t the most flattering thing, and pretty bulky on her face. She looked ridiculous, honestly.

“Modern technology,” He sighed dramatically, leaning down onto his cane as he continued to observe her. “Only getting uglier.”

Charlie didn’t respond to his comment, looking around at what Alastor saw as nothing. She played around with the settings again, and adjusted the straps on her head again, before looking around again. She let out a successful sounding “hell yes” before pulling a remote of sorts from her pocket. She pushed on a joystick.

“What are you doing?” Alastor asked plainly, the building curiosity finally becoming too much. “Why do you have a box on your head?”

“It’s like…” She began to explain, trying to think of how to make sense of it to him. “Like… imagine you were looking through the eyes of somebody else, but still standing in the same spot..?” Her voice tilted at the end, unsure of her explanation.

Yeah, no, Alastor had no clue. But he dismissed it as unnecessary, as he often did with any technology he couldn’t understand.

“I’m seeing… Earth, I guess,” Charlie explained more. “Following around this girl.”

Alastor was only partially listening, humming quietly to himself as he just observed. He wondered if he should just leave—nothing interesting was happening. He was curious to see what antics Heaven was pushing on the Princess of Hell, though.

“Wanna try?” Charlie offered, lifting the headset up away from her eyes. Alastor immediately scrunched his nose up and narrowed his eyes.

“And look as ridiculous as you? Hah! No thank you,” He sat down on a chair near the wall, leaning against the back of it. He threw one leg up over the other. Charlie shrugged in response, and pulled the contraption back down.

Alastor sat for a while, absently thinking about what he wanted to do later as he waited for something to happen.

“Oh! Hold on,” Charlie suddenly said, causing Alastor’s ears to straighten to attention as she reached up and pressed a button. A holographic projection appeared out of nowhere, manifesting through some strange magic. “Forgot I could do that. This is what I’m seeing in here.” 

Alastor stood and walked closer, leaning forward on his cane as he studied the projection. It seemed like some kind of bar. He mused at how different modern bars looked from the speakeasies he would frequent during his own life.

“What heavenly task are you doing in a bar?” He joked, trying to find something interesting in the projection. It just seemed like generic bar business. Loud, flirtatious women and boisterous, over confident men. That, at least, was the same from his day.

“Like I said earlier,” Charlie explained, looking around the room. The projection seemed to follow her movement, and Alastor recognized that he was basically seeing through her eyes. How curious. “There’s some… soul they lost control of. And they want me to report to them about her.”

Alastor was very curious to see what kind of soul broke from control of literal heaven. He watched rather intently, leaned forward against his cane to watch the projection.

Charlie turned another knob, and the sound of tacky pop music and loud chatter began to emanate from the bar scene. Alastor wasn’t a fan of newer music, but he was often forced to listen anyway in the hotel lobby.

“Is it possible to turn down that dreadful noise?” He complained to her, announcing his dissatisfaction.

“No. I need to be able to hear what the woman is saying,” Charlie answered stubbornly. Alastor’s microphone of a cane began to obnoxiously play a song of his choice for a moment in retaliation, but died down after a few moments. After all, Charlie ignored his attempt at aggravation, so there was no point in keeping it up.

Charlie looked around the bar, searching. Finally, her gaze settled on a fancier booth with half drawn curtains. From her angle, she could only see a woman. She looked frustrated.

“---get out of your shell! It’s about time you start talking to some guys for once,” Charlie caught the tail end of the woman’s statement. She was gesturing wildly around, exasperation evident in the jagged movements. “I’m sick of watching you pine for somebody who’s been gone for ages.”

★

“Ten years isn’t ages, Mechiele,” You drew your finger against the table, making shapes with the rim of water that the condensation from your glass left. Nearly a hundred years, more like, You commented to yourself. You never told anybody that you were an immortal being. Nobody believed you when you did, anyway.

You sat your cheek against the palm of your hand and lifted your gaze to your friend, who looked at you with a sharp frown. You shot her a weak smile. 

“Can you just drop it?” You asked, nearly pleading. You didn’t want to cry tonight, being a little tipsy—you were an emotional drunk. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself blabbering about a dead husband.

“Come on,” Mechiele said impatiently, pushing your pleas aside. “There’s so many hot guys in here, I bet one would just love to take a piece of work like you home and-”

“Mechiele.” You hoped your tone was enough to shut her up.

You should’ve known better, honestly. Mechiele was already abrasive when she was sober, but with the amount of drinks she’s had tonight…

“No, no, no! You bum! Get your ass up right now and get out there! And take that ring off while you’re at it!”

Mechiele quickly lunged at you, a much too playful look in her eye considering how pissed you were right now. You yanked your arm away from her grasp, cupping your hand protectively with the other, shielding the golden band on your finger from her.

“Fucking drop it!” You snapped at her, standing from your seat. “I’m going home. You’re too drunk. I’ll drive.”

“You’re so fucking lame,” Mechiele droned, falling back into her seat. She wouldn’t budge when you urged her to stand and come with you. “He’s fuckin’ dead! Get a new man, already! Alastor’s not-”

Mechiele stopped abruptly when you smacked her. It wasn’t an incredibly hard smack or anything, barely enough to leave a red bloom on her cheek, but it was enough. She looked at you through narrowed eyes. You returned the same expression.

You left the booth and stormed off, cursing under your breath about it all. About Mechiele, about this stupid bar, about the tipsy feeling in your head, about Alastor—

You folded your arms together as you briskly walked to your car, yelling in frustration at your heels and ripping them off your feet. The ground was a little wet and cold, but you didn’t care. After making it to your car, you threw yourself in an switched it on.

You thought for a few moments. You were lightheaded after a few drinks, but you really didn’t want to wait for a taxi. You’d probably be fine, yeah? Sure. Against your better judgment, you began to drive.

It was a long drive, but it gave you some time to think.

You missed him. You pined for him. Nearly every night was agony, missing the presence of the only man you’ve ever fallen in love with.

You cursed whatever higher power there was for making you this way—immortal. How cruel it was, to make you live forever to suffer this longing. You didn’t even notice when you ended up in your room, but you let yourself fall face first onto your bed, curling up into a ball.

Even more, you cursed yourself for ever falling in love. You should’ve known it would only lead to an endless torture of heartbreak. You would never love anybody the same; although, you don’t think you’d want to, even if you could.

You were born to suffer. To spend an eternity in life without him.

★

Charlie continued to watch in shock for a few moments, her mouth dropped at the mention of the Radio Demon’s name. The previously hidden woman stepped from the bar, a furious look in her eyes as she stormed away. Mechiele was left with stubbornly folded arms and an empty glass of alcohol.

“Heyyy, uh, Al, how common is your name..? Do you know…” Charlie asked a bit awkwardly. She got no response. She lifted the headset, and realized he was gone. Even still, there seemed to be a lingering feeling of intense static, and the air somehow felt a bit heavier than before.

★

This had to be some cruel, sick joke, right? Heaven had to be toying with him, finally finding a way to torture his soul. His wife—she was dead. It had been nearly a hundred years since he died, and even if she had lived till she was old—

Alastor was pacing his room, ears pinned and eyes wide in frantic thought. Oh, how he yearned for her. He had managed for so long to push the memory of her away, to lock up his loss in a tight cage as he climbed the ranks of hell; it had all come rushing, barreling, torrenting back when he had seen her—or, no, somebody that looked like her—step out of those curtains. It was only a coincidence that that woman looked like his wife, and only a coincidence that she had a dead husband that shared his name.

His wife was in heaven, no doubt; which was where she belonged, of course, but Alastor had spent the last decade pining for somebody who he could never see again. If given the choice, Alastor wasn’t so sure himself if he was kind enough as to not tear her soul from Heaven and down to Hell by his side. Alternatively, even if Charlie’s idea of redemption were to work, Alastor was truly irredeemable. It was all wistful thinking, anyway.

Alastor’s claws dug into the curtains of his window, staring out into the streets of Hell in an attempt to concentrate on one steady stream of thought.

When billions of people touch the Earth, it’s only natural that coincidences like this rise. Right? He tried desperately to convince himself of different possibilities. It just made no sense.

A knocking at his door made Alastor’s grin curl in deadly malice. He really wasn’t in the mood.

He paced to his door, opened it just enough to fit his body in the frame, and glared down at Charlie. She was wringing her hands together nervously, and only seemed to grow more timid as the heavy, almost palpable ambience of his radio static filled the hallway she stood in.

“I’m busy,” Alastor said bluntly. His lips were curled in a sneer.

“I can tell,” Charlie responded. "I know you don't like talking about yourself-" She began to ramble on about him talking to her about his feelings and whatnot, but Alastor didn’t listen as he shut the door again.

Though, the interruption did give his mind a chance to slow. He sat on a chair in the corner of his room, and opted to fiddle with the radio on the drawer next to him. He tuned it—or, more just magically infused it—to play some jazz to try to keep his head level.

It would take some time to rebuild the dam that held back the memories of his wife. Even just the mere thought of her made him feel weak, and he hated it. The only soul he was capable of falling in love with—gone, forever.

Alastor never took the whole “eternity of damnation” thing seriously, considering the power he held and how comfortable he really was in Hell. However, when he remembered her—

Hell truly was torture. And he was cursed to spend his eternity in death without her.

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [10] - Family Dinner

A.N: Here’s the new chapter my loves! ❤️ Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Happy news can make a dinner so much better.

Word Count: 3800

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, drinking. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

“I’m sorry, did you just say marriage?”

You sipped your coffee before shooting Becca and Sarah a grin, then popped a piece of your croissant in your mouth.

“Mm hm.”

“You’re getting married to-to my—” Becca stammered. “To my brother?”

“Yeah,” you said and looked around. “Do you guys think we should get mimosas?”

“What the fuck?!” Becca exclaimed. “Since when?”

“It’d better be this morning, Y/N,” Sarah said and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Technically around 48 hours ago.”

Becca gawked at you. “Y/N, I’m going to kill you.”

“Listen, I didn’t—” you waved your hands in the air. “I figured you’d want to hear it in person! It’s kind of a big deal, you know?”

“Jesus Christ…”

“Wait, start from the beginning,” Sarah said. “How did that happen?”

“I had a talk with my dad,” you said, biting inside your cheek. “He’s going to choose Ian.”

Sarah frowned while Becca pulled back slightly.

“He made up his mind?”

“Mm hm.”

“You’re sure you can’t convince him?”

You shook your head.

“No,” you said, your stomach doing a tense flip. “I thought I could but…he was very clear. He will not name me his heir, it’s going to be Ian.”

“That will mess everything up,” Becca said. “Including the truce, because—”

“Bucky won’t do business with him, neither will Sam or Steve,” you finished her sentence for her. “I told my father that but it didn’t even make him think twice.”

“Great,” Sarah muttered, and you shook your head.

“It doesn’t matter what he thinks,” you said. “I’m done waiting around for him to give me a chance. If he doesn’t want to give me power, I’ll take it for myself.”

“And that’s where Bucky enters the picture?”

“Exactly,” you said. “He will give me a way in, and once everything is in place I’ll take over.”

“Before Ian can?”

You nodded your head. “I’ll force my dad’s hand if I have to.”

“He’s not going to like it,” Becca sang in a teasing manner and you scoffed.

“It’s either that or we risk another war between the families,” you said. “To be honest with you, I don’t really care whether he likes it or not anymore. I’m the firstborn and it’s my right, he promised it to me all those years ago.”

“What happens when you take over though?” Sarah asked. “You and Bucky…?”

“We’ll get a divorce.”

Becca arched a brow and suppressed a smile. “Just like that?”

“Yeah, why not?” you said. “He doesn’t want to stay married to me a minute longer than it’s necessary, and I share the sentiment.”

Becca exchanged a knowing glance with Sarah, her smile widening before she turned to you.

“If you say so,” she muttered, taking a sip of her coffee and as if on cue, your phone started vibrating on the table. You checked the name on the screen, then answered it.

“Yeah?”

“Hi there, fiancée.”

You could already tell he was smiling from the tone of his voice and you rolled your eyes, then motioned at Becca and Sarah to give you a moment before getting up from your seat to walk out of the restaurant.

“What do you want?” you asked and he tsk tsked.

“Babe…”

“Don’t call me that.”

“My beautiful wife?”

“Don’t call me that either.”

“Mrs. Barnes?”

“There’s going to be another last name there as well, don’t forget about that one,” you said. “It’s hyphenated.”

“Yeah, for some reason…” he grumbled and you heaved a sigh.

“Is there a point to this conversation? Because if there isn’t, I’m going to hang up now.”

“Yeah,” he said. “There is actually. Before tonight’s dinner, I just figured you’d want to know that your father knows.”

Your eyes widened. “You told him about the engagement?”

“What? No!” he said quickly. “But he knows we’re together.”

“Except we’re not.”

“Well fine, he knows we’ve been spending time in the honeymoon suit.”

You leaned back to the wall and pinched the bridge of your nose before clearing your throat.

“He called you?”

“Not yet but my parents did.”

“That sounds like a fun conversation,” you said, smiling slightly. “What did they say?”

Bucky chuckled.

“My mom just asked how you were,” he said. “That’s her being subtle. And my dad told me to not fuck it up so, went as expected. Arthur didn’t call you?”

“He did, I just didn’t answer,” you said, pursing your lips together. “I don’t want to talk to him yet, so…”

“But are you going to be okay tonight?” he asked and you pulled your brows together.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Can I not ask about your wellbeing?”

“No,” your reply came way too fast. “That’s not on the prenup.”

“Jesus Christ…” he muttered and you checked your watch, then pushed yourself off the wall.

“So you’re going to the restaurant before me then?”

“Yeah, I think it’d be better if I got on your father’s good side before that conversation,” he said. “Considering I didn’t even give him a heads up—unless you want to go together?”

You scrunched up your nose. “Absolutely not,” you said. “Playing the dumbass in love will be even more difficult if I spend more than an hour with you.”

“I think you like spending time with me,” he said with a teasing tone and you scoffed.

“I’m hanging up now,” you said. “Don’t be late tonight.”

“Of course, wife.”

“Stop calling me that!” you snapped and hung up, then let out a breath.

“I can’t believe I’m marrying this asshole…” you murmured to yourself, then made your way back into the restaurant.

                                                 *

Tonight’s dinner was not going to be very easy to handle, you could already tell. Becca had always been too good at reading your mood, so as soon as you two stepped out of the car, she reached out to hold your hand, making you turn your head.

“It’ll be fine,” she said before you could even say anything and you licked your lips.

“It makes it official,” you muttered. “All of it.”

Becca paused for a moment, then shrugged her shoulders.

“What does it matter?” she asked. “If you’re going to get a divorce eventually…”

“Of course we will,” you said. “But it’s not just that, you know? Starting tonight, I’m going against everything my dad wants.”

Becca nodded her head.

“You are,” she said airily. “But if he didn’t want you to take over eventually, he shouldn’t have raised you as his heir to begin with. That shit is not a game, he can’t just change his mind.”

You pursed your lips together, keeping your eyes on the restaurant.

“People won’t be happy about it,” you muttered. “Me being an actual rival, or taking over.”

 “You’re the firstborn,” she reminded you. “It’s your right. And that’s what you want, so fuck what everyone else will think. You’re going to do amazing.”

You stole a look at him, fear churning your insides.

“You think so?” you rasped out, desperate to hear it out loud and Becca nodded fervently.

“I wouldn’t be here if I thought you couldn’t pull it off,” she said. “You’re going to be much better than your father. Trust me.”

You squeezed her hand. “Thanks Becca.”

“Keep in mind how helpful I am when you’re picking your bridesmaid gown colors,” she said, making you let out a laugh. “Friendly reminder, I don’t like lilac.”

“I know, I know…” you told her, throwing an arm over her shoulder to press a kiss on her cheek, then you both walked into the restaurant.

As usual, either your father or Bucky’s father had it closed down for the night so that you all could enjoy your dinner without any strangers around. The hostess greeted you and led you to your usual table which was already occupied by Bucky’s family and yours. Your father stood up as soon as he saw you and made his way to you.

“Good luck,” Becca muttered and smiled at him. “Hi Arthur!”

“Becca my dear, welcome!” your father said as she kissed his cheek.

“I’m starving already,” she said and went to sit down while your father turned to you.

“So?” he said. “You cannot pick up the phone, Y/N?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I was busy.”

“Really?” he asked. “Too busy to send a text?”

You shrugged your shoulders again, pursing your lips together and he heaved a sigh.

“Sweetheart…” he said. “I don’t like this, you know that. I understand that we can have our disagreements but moving out of the house?”

“I didn’t move out of the house,” you said. “My stuff is still there.”

“But you’re not staying there?”

“I felt like a change of scenery.”

“Is that all?” he asked and you cleared your throat.

“Sort of.”

“Because what I’ve been hearing…” he said. “Not to mention, both you and Bucky planning this dinner?”

“I think we should wait for him to have this conversation—where is he anyway?” you asked, looking around the restaurant and your father frowned slightly.

“We thought you two were coming together.”

“He’s late?” you asked, nervousness shooting through you and your father waved a hand in the air.

“There’s a reason for that I’m sure,” he said. “Come on, sit down. We started already.”

“Great,” you muttered to yourself and followed him to the table and waved at Bucky’s parents Winnifred and George.

“Y/N, hello!” Winnifred stood up to hug you and you hugged her back before pulling back to wave at George.

“We were going to wait for you but you know how your father is,” Winnifred said and your father chuckled, gesturing surrender.

“I don’t mind,” you said, sitting down next to Becca as you nodded in Ian’s direction. “Ian.”

“Y/N.”

“So, what is this dinner about?” George asked and Winnifred shot him a look.

“George.”

“What? I’m curious. You would think this is a life-and-death situation the way Bucky talked about it.”

“I think we should uh…we should wait for him for that one,” you said and turned to the waiter who filled your glass.

“The chef is preparing your usual, ma'am."

“Thank you,” you said and sat up straighter while George smiled at Becca.

“Do you know what this is about?”

“Of course,” Becca said with a smile. “But I’m special.”

“Will this dinner take long?” Ian asked you, checking his phone. “I have plans for 10.”

“You’re welcome to leave,” you told him but before he could retort, Becca waved at someone by the entrance and you looked over your shoulder to see Bucky walk into the restaurant. You cleared your throat, then pushed your seat back.

“Excuse me for a moment,” you said and made your way to him.

“Charm, hey—”

“With me,” you said without even stopping and he turned around to follow you out of the restaurant, and you whirled around on your heels the moment you stepped outside, raising your brows at him.

“Are you serious right now?” you asked. “You were supposed to be here before me, that was the plan!”

“Okay, I know I’m late but in my defense—”

“No no, you said—”

“Job got in the way, I didn’t even get the chance to change,” he cut you off and raised his wrist so that you could see the sleeve of his white shirt. “I still have blood on my sleeve, look!”

“Do I look like your drycleaner from where you’re standing?” you snapped back in a whisper. “You said you’d come before me, and considering your relationships I’d say you’re used to that!”

He rolled his eyes. “To repeat, job got in the way.”

“You’re late to dinner because you were too busy punching someone and that’s a good excuse?”

“It was necessary!”

“It was necessary for it to be you punching that person, is that right?”

“Excuse me, lovebirds,” Becca’s voice reached you and you both turned to look at her as she leaned sideways to the entrance. “Have your fight later on, they’re getting restless.”

You ran a hand over your face.

“Alright,” you said. “So okay, when are we telling them?”

“My plate is already there and I’d rather if you did it right away,” Becca said, pointing back with her thumb. “They don’t look like they’ll stop asking what this dinner is about anytime soon.”

“You just don’t want mom to ask you about Leila,” Bucky told her and Becca shrugged her shoulders.

“I mean would it kill you to do something nice for me?” she asked, making him shake his head slightly. You bit back a smile and threw your shoulders back, trying to get rid of the tension in your body.

“Let’s get this over with,” you muttered more to yourself and made your way back to the table with Becca and Bucky following you.

“Good evening,” Bucky greeted everyone at the table with a smile. “Sorry I was late, it’s just…work.”

Becca went to sit down on her seat as you eyed your food, but stood beside Bucky, clenching and unclenching your fist just so that you could focus on something else other than the nervousness pulsing in your veins.

“Is everything alright?” Winnifred asked Bucky and he nodded his head.

“Oh yeah, two meetings clashed,” he lied, subtly rolling the sleeve of his shirt up. “There was a moment of chaos but it’s fixed.”

“So can we learn what this whole secrecy and emergency dinner is about now?” George said with a knowing smile and you stole a look at your father who looked almost impatient. Knowing them, every single person at the table except Becca thought Bucky and you were about to tell them you were dating, so you were sure that the news was going to be completely unexpected for all of them.

“Yeah,” you said, reminding yourself to smile as you leaned sideways to Bucky’s arm. “You can. Sorry about the secrecy, we just wanted it to be a surprise.”

Ian scoffed a small laugh.

“You staying in a hotel in his territory might have ruined that surprise,” he said and Bucky’s eyes narrowed but you elbowed him while your father gave Ian a warning glare, making him sit up straighter.

“So uh, it happened very recently,” you said, ignoring Ian. “And normally you would have heard beforehand.”

“For which I take full responsibility,” Bucky added with a smirk. “That’s on me.”

“I mean you know we’ve had this…strange dynamic for a while.”

“Ten years,” Becca muttered into her wine glass. “Not that anyone is counting.”

“But once we actually talked to each other, something happened,” you lied through your teeth, Bucky’s arm snaking around your waist as he nuzzled to the top of your head, making your heart skip a beat but you forced yourself to remember that it was all an act. Winnifred pressed a hand on her chest as if she was lost in her emotions while your father and George exchanged glances, both smiling slightly.

“And I hope that you’ll be happy for us,” you said and waited for a second, then cleared your throat. “Because we’re getting married.”

The impact of your words was immediate and very visible. Ian’s head shot up as Winnifred gasped in shock and your father’s eyes widened while George’s jaw dropped. Becca stifled a laugh, taking another sip of her wine as she leaned back in her seat.

“Married?!” Winnifred exclaimed as she jumped on her feet. “Oh thank God, this is the best news I could ever hope for!”

“Trust me mom, I was as surprised as you are,” Bucky said with a chuckle while Winnifred pulled you into a tight hug and your father tried to pull himself together.

“Married?” he repeated and you nodded when Winnifred pulled back to hug Bucky.

“Yeah.”

“That’s…uh—” your father stammered. “That’s wonderful news honey but you two have been dating for what? Two days?”

“Three days,” you said helpfully and Bucky hissed in a breath.

“I was going to get your permission, Arthur.”

“Why didn’t you?” your father asked him, looking him in the eye but Bucky didn’t look intimidated in the slightest.

“Oh come on Arthur, don’t be so traditional!” George said with a laugh. “They’re in love, and it’s not like they met three days ago. They’ve known each other their whole lives, I for one have been hoping for this to happen for almost ten years!”

“And we already know we want to spend the rest of our lives together.”

“Speaking of, where’s the ring?” Winnifred asked, making you and Bucky exchange glances before you turned to her.

Shit.

Of course he was supposed to have proposed with a ring.

“The ring!” you said. “Right, uh…Bucky?”

Bucky swallowed thickly and waved a hand in the air.

“The ring, that’s—that’s a funny story actually,” he said. “You see, we um—”

“My overly confident brother didn’t bother asking the best friend,” Becca cut him off airily, pointing at herself. “Surprise surprise; it was the wrong size. We went to the jewelers today to get it fixed, they said it’ll be ready within the week.”

Dear God, you loved Becca.

You subtly mouthed ‘thank you’ to her while George stood up to come closer to you.

“Congratulations son,” he said as he pulled him into a hug to slap him on the back. “You sure took your time. And Y/N, welcome to the family sweetheart.”

“Congratulations,” Ian said from where he was sitting and your father sighed, then stood up to hug you.

“We still need to talk about this,” he said. “But I’m very happy for you two.”

“Thanks dad,” you muttered as the waiters brought your food and you all sat down. You took your fork into your hand and George raised his glass.

“To happy couple!”

You and Bucky raised your glasses as well and your father took a sip of his drink, then leaned back in his seat.

“See, Y/N,” he said. “I know you’re still a bit angry at me but I told you. This right here will make you much happier than what we talked about earlier. That’s what matters.”

You arched a brow as Bucky turned to look at you better with a smirk and you stole a glance at him, a sly smile curling your lips as well.

Oh.

Of course your father naively believed that something as trivial as marriage could keep you from what you wanted. It was almost condescending at this point but you managed to hold back the retort, then clicked your tongue.

“Oh yeah,” you said, making Bucky chuckle. “I have a very clear idea of what’s actually important now, and I’ll make sure everyone else sees that as well.”

                                        *

When it was time to leave the restaurant, everyone was in a wonderful mood. Winnifred had so many ideas about the wedding, and as far as you could tell, your father had gotten over the annoyance of Bucky not having asked for his permission.

“So, are you coming home?” he asked you as George and Winnifred’s car drove off and you looked at Bucky who was talking to Becca by her car.

“Maybe later,” you said with a shake of your head. “Me and Bucky have things to talk about, so…”

Your father hummed.

“Alright,” he said. “What do you say we grab lunch tomorrow then?”

You thought for a moment, then shifted your weight.

“Sure, why not?”

“Good,” he said and hugged you. “You know I don’t like it when we fight.”

You pursed your lips together. “I know, I know...”

“I’ll see you tomorrow honey, please be careful,” he said and got in the car while Ian seemed to be in a deep discussion with Ryan. Ryan’s gaze found you over Ian’s shoulder and you offered him a small smile, then turned your head when you heard Becca say your name.

“Y/N are we meeting tomorrow?”

“Yeah after lunch,” you answered. “I’ve just promised my dad I’d have lunch with him, so…”

She nodded. “Okay, I’ll text you then?”

“Sounds great!” you said as she got into her car and the driver closed her door before getting into the driver’s seat. You looked into your purse, then let out a groan when you couldn’t find your phone.

“Great,” you muttered and made your way into the restaurant, the waiter stopping in his tracks the moment he saw you.

“Ma’am?”

“Hi again, I left my phone at the table,” you told him with a small laugh and he nodded.

“I’ll get it for you right away,” he said and went inside, then in a minute he was back with your phone. “Here.”

“Thank you so much,” you said. “Have a nice night!”

“You too ma’am,” he said and you left the restaurant again, then frowned as soon as you saw Ian talking to Bucky by his car while Ryan waited with Ian’s other bodyguards close by. You took a step towards them but neither of them seemed to notice you, and judging by the stern look in Bucky’s eyes, it wasn’t because they were having a fun conversation.

“…And that’s what she wants in case she didn’t tell you,” Ian said and Bucky narrowed his eyes at him.

“I know that.”

Ian shook his head slightly. “Don’t get me wrong, but—”

“Let me stop you right there Ian,” Bucky said, glaring daggers at him. “You’re not going to say anything that I might get wrong about the woman I love.”

Your stomach did a happy flip but you quickly frowned at yourself. It was just Bucky selling this whole idea that you were in love; it wasn’t as if you and he could ever fall in love or anything.

Even the thought of it was absolutely absurd.

You cleared your throat to announce you were there and they both turned to look at you.

“Hey babe,” Bucky said. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” you said without even sparing a glance at Ian as the driver opened the car door for you and you got in with Bucky following you suit. You massaged your temples, then leaned your head back when the driver started the car.

“You okay?” Bucky asked and you gritted your teeth, crossing your arms over your chest.

“The way my dad talks to me…” you muttered and Bucky scoffed a dry laugh.

“I know,” he said. “Trust me, I get it.”

“I don’t think you do,” you rasped out. “George never underestimated you or replaced you with another heir.”

That made him pause for a moment, a dark shadow crossing his eyes before he took a deep breath.

“No worries Charm,” he said. “He won’t get to underestimate you again once you get that crown.”

You felt a small smile curl your lips as you turned your gaze to the city lights outside, then heaved a sigh.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “I like the sound of that.”

Chapter 11

[ariaste]

(Interview with the Vampire thoughts, i'm putting the label up here for my mutuals who aren't watching it, hi babes)

listen i have THOUGHTS about Daniel, alright, I just-- these messy bitches are SO messy, Louis and Armand are objectively awful people (and I love them SO MUCH but that's beside the point) and they are miserable and making each other worse and they keep talking over each other and trying to impose their own story over the top of the other one's story, and BY GOD the one thing they need more than anything else is for someone to just LISTEN

and then here's Daniel, a bright young(?) reporter with a point of view, whose whole job is to listen, and to ask questions that draw out the story instead of imposing his own.

there is something sacred in that solemn duty (and I do think Daniel would consider it sacred and solemn and a duty, it's IMPORTANT, he knows it's important, he has the tape playing in his head to tell him that it's important) -- something sacred, something almost holy, it's not an interview so much as a confession in the most literal religious sense, and Daniel is the one receiving the confession and is possibly the source of absolution, or at least the first step towards absolution -- he really is, you know, any healing that happened in this fucked up community did not start until Daniel was there to listen. He is the one who listens, who takes in every flaw and justification and excuse and inadvertent truth, he is standing in witness, he knows the subtle differences between sympathy and empathy and compassion and forgiveness and condonation, and he does NOT condone what either of them has (by god he does not condone), and forgiveness has not yet been earned, and sympathy is really not so much his style so that's not even on the table--

But empathy and compassion. Those are on the table. Because you have to have empathy to do the job that Daniel does, you have to have just enough compassion to show up and listen, to extend that moment of grace to the subject of the interview even if they're a monster, you have have enough empathy to give them the gift of a chance to bare their hearts and be as complex and fucked up and human as anyone else in the world, and welcome that complexity and embrace it. You'd have to love that person a little bit, I think, even if they're awful, because you cannot every fully understand something or someone unless you love them. But love, again, is not condonation or forgiveness. It is just love -- "You're fucked up and wrong and everyone here needs therapy, but I'm still listening to you and I'm still giving you a space to be your whole, messy, fucked-up self."

But then to do the job that Daniel does, you can't have so much compassion and empathy that you get personally entangled to the point that your objectivity vanishes. And yeah, Daniel is VERY MUCH personally entangled, but his objectivity is still there, he's still able to hold the story at arm's length and think, "These are unreliable narrators, bias is everywhere, memory is faulty. The truth will set us free, but it's not coming out of either of these bitches' mouths unless I go hunting for it."

Like look at poor fucking Armand who has had 500 years of some of the worst trauma a person can have, and he is used to being the victim and lying and manipulating to protect himself and to defuse the anger of people who have the power to hurt him, and he is a CONTROL FREAK about it, and he has probably never, ever, not once had someone showing up to really, really listen to him the way that Daniel listens. People come to Armand and yell at him or accuse him or attack him or force him to make terrible choices or coerce him into situations he did not freely choose -- has anyone ever just listened? Has anyone ever held space for him to be as scared and fucked up and cowardly and needy as he is, and simply patiently, compassionately held witness to it with measured objectivity? Can you imagine how delicious and heartwrenching and, yes, fascinating it would be if someone did that for you?

Daniel's a really, really good journalist. DO YOU EVER THINK ABOUT WHAT A GOOD JOURNALIST HE IS. I JUST THINK WE SHOULD TALK MORE ABOUT WHAT A GREAT JOURNALIST HE IS

[maxzinn]

off topic but also on topic its so clear that the genshin/star rail (saying both cause theres a large overlap) have no capability of thinking.

there are so many fics where *reader* somehow becomes a (sex)slave or is forced to do horrible shit and just general dead dove behavior. the fact that the author used INGAME LORE, CANON BACKSTORY FOR THE CHARACTER proves how braindead so many people are.

like people try to free slaves/captors in media isnt a new thing. theres a lot of art of that angelhusk ship where one gambles for the others freedom (never watched it but its an example)

like having slaves/captors in media isnt new and never has been but the only reason people truely care is because its a hoyoverse game and cant handle anything darker or complex then a PG rating

(sorry anon, I got carried away with this one tee-hee)

YOU'RE SO REAL FOR THIS!!! y'know I was sooo confused when people started screaming for blood when the authors are using his IN-GAME LORE in their fics and then claims that the people who enjoyed writing those have "white-knight syndrome" like cmon sjsadhjg you're giving me a fucking stroke.

I'll say it again, wanting to give slave aventurine or someone a better life DOESN'T mean they have "white-knight syndrome" when they have good intentions!!! We were all were crying for him and his tragic past, we all wanted to comfort him, and we at some point also wished for his salvation and the betterment of his life. These people need to stop throwing these "white-knight syndrome" accusations cuz it's definitely not about that. And like you said, it was his IN-GAME LORE. I already expected some authors to write about reader saving him from his slavery and there's nothing wrong with that! Cuz please, don't tell me you won't help the guy out of his abusive owner, let's be fr here.

Like you also said, many have been writing yandere/heavy dark themes about reader being literally SA'd and R'd by said character (do not tell me you guys haven't read all those fics where Aven was our debt collector and in paying our debt, he noncon or manipulated us into sleeping with him 💀) and now they wanna talk about morals?

And please, don't even try bringing up Romania or irl people in here. IT'S A FICTIONAL RACE IN A FICTIONAL STORY. it may be "inspired" like they said, but it's not directly addressing Romania!!

I get their point alright, I truly do. Like I said in my other post, I do not condone the sex slave! aus about aventurine and the master/slave bdsm cuz his story truly hurt me and I'm uncomfortable sexualizing his slavery when I know about his story and what happened to him as a slave. But I won't go as far as to actually send death threats to those authors and act like a hypocrite💀 people can write what they want to write and I don't have to read those writings if I don't wanna.

Just to say, I'm a yandere/dark-content enjoyer as well, it's just that I draw the line when it comes to aventurine cuz I just wanna cuddle and dote on that man and give him all the love and affection in the world. but like I said, am no hypocrite as well. (sorry if I can't explain it very well but I hope you get the gist of it)

It's just funny and baffling how people are like "eww this person wrote a fic about reader buying slave aventurine so they can be a good owner to him".... this is leaving me speechless how they turned an act with good intentions into something malicious... that poor author doesn't even have bad intentions when writing that fic.

When you apply their logic, it's like saying "this person adopted an abused child so that they can be a good parent to that child, disgusting" do they even realize how stupid they sound??? 😭

[wispforever]

Some thoughts on Itachi

So, I've seen a lot of comments circulating about my tags on this post, and I'm intrigued at the interest. I didn't expect it, as I see much more pigeonholing of Itachi's character than honest to god analysis. No hate- I'm no stranger to Kishimoto's writing. Some of his characters were unfortunately butchered or never given the chance to be developed properly, and Itachi is most certainly no exception. That said, I like to grant him a bit more nuance than I see on most blogs. I think people get a little wrapped up in the supposed "moral implications" of exploring how Itachi was also a victim of the system, as well as someone who victimized many people. But it's silly to equate character analysis and context consideration with condoning genocide.

I have a good laugh every once and a while at the metaphorical gymnastics people do in order to stay in the good graces of a bunch of internet trolls who are just Waiting for any opportunity to tell you you love murder and think it's delicious just because you made a post exploring a character's background. Media is grey; it's layered and wonderfully complex. There are many wrongs and rights in every story, and many wrongs and rights within those wrongs and rights. That's what I love about Naruto. Often times it's really too much like real life. Instead of people being black and white, right or wrong, bad or good- they're usually in a tough situation, trying their best and falling short, don't have all of the information, acting with good intentions or acting on what they believe will bring about a lesser evil, and then end up hurting others.

But it is much easier to assign blame and move on. A so-called bad person will always be the perfect scapegoat for issues bigger than them. In Itachi's case, the fascist government in the Leaf. It's easier to say Itachi could have just refused and decided not to be involved, than to recognize that like almost every other character in the narrative, he was under extreme duress, living in a military state. He was a child whose existence, along with all the other children and adults in the Leaf, was only valuable as long as he could serve as a tool for the war machine in the shinobi world's fucked up political system. And saying this is not the same as saying he was not capable of better decisions or that everything that he did thereafter or in general should not be read critically or subject to hypothetical consequences. It is the same as a saying his actions cannot be fully understood without complete context, and the themes of Naruto will never come through if every villain is just "evil" with no further nuance. And it would be boring too LOL

That said, I love to think about Itachi's situation back then. The ages in Naruto are a bit muddled, a little inconsistent, subject to change and interpretation, but Itachi was a child when he murdered everyone in the Uchiha compound. Most sources say he was 13. It should go without saying that someone so young isn't capable of the same decision-making or critical thinking as say, a 30-year-old, someone whose brain is finished developing and has much more experience on Earth.

Itachi's experience at this point in his life is informed by his age, and it's obviously informed by his childhood, as he has no other place from which to draw conclusions. Itachi grew up in a warring state. He saw people die and was subject to extreme violence in his formative years. To make matters worse, he was taught that war was inevitable and the only thing he could do to guard against it was kill others before they got the chance to kill him (threaten the village). Thusly, Itachi internalized at a very young age that what was in his power was to minimize damage (to himself, to his village, and to the world). What was not in his power was to stop this violence entirely (by adopting a critical mindset and going against fascist powers).

A part of this I think people often forget is that Itachi has absolutely nowhere to adopt this mindset FROM, as even though his father and the other members of the Uchiha clan seek equity in the Leaf, if they were to overthrow the Hokage and create a new system, it would still presumably center around the same ideals (minus, of course, the oppression of the Uchiha as a group). Fugaku is the head of the Uchiha clan at this time. As someone who imposed near impossible performance-related expectations on both of his sons, and withheld love and affection whenever they came up short (so often that it was at the cost of having any considerable emotional bond with either of them), there is absolutely no good reason to believe that Fugaku would reform the Leaf using a non-fascist ideology. And if he did, there is no good reason to believe that he would be some kind of visionary LMAO

This is important to remember because when it comes down to Itachi's decision to either kill everyone in the Uchiha compound and his family, or be part of the coup that would overthrow the Leaf, some people treat it as though it's a choice between fascism and non-fascism, which it most certainly is not. And if it was, Itachi, as a child who had grown up immersed in this ideology, would not be able to appreciate the difference. This context allows us to understand further what Itachi was really weighing in that moment. Accounting for his young age and limited worldview, the only valuable difference in this moment to Itachi was the amount of bloodshed that he would "allow" to happen. Essentially, he sees the options as follows:

Either give in to Danzo and kill everyone in the Uchiha compound, or facilitate a coup where the current government is (hopefully) overthrown and risk starting another war.

Here, Itachi pauses. He has known war. He knows how it affects children, adults, families, and whole nations. The peace he's living in currently is bought with blood, but it's the only peace he's ever known. The alternative is horrifying. And a war in this context, Itachi likely thinks, would be his fault, as he has now been put in the position to "prevent" it. Danzo and the whole shinobi system have groomed him into thinking so. Itachi, at age 13, cannot understand that there would be no war; it exists only as leverage for Danzo's argument at this point. His sensitivities are being played on.

Fugaku, though he is not the same as Danzo, offers about as much help as he does (that being none). Fugaku has no interest in avoiding war; if a war breaks out, it's justified because it will still mean his clan will no longer be living in oppression. This idea is valid, as fascist systems and discrimination can only cease to exist when we rise up against them; unfortunately, this most often calls for righteous violence, as the oppressive powers will not be moved with peaceful shows (not to mention they are willing to go to extreme lengths to avoid losing their hold on the people they have crushing power over, i.e. the Uchiha massacre). But Fugaku has no words to explain this to Itachi, who fears the worst and further fears being responsible for the worst. All he does is act as if it's a moral failing that his 13-year-old son is unwilling to stage a coup, which he believes could mark the abrupt end of a peace that's only just begun.

That said, let it be known that Itachi does appreciate this situation with SOME nuance, though it isn't of the kind that might have enabled him to see he was being manipulated. He at the very least understands that Danzo is a warmonger and oppresses those he fears (the Uchiha). He understands that the rights of his clan have been sorely disrespected, and that the issue needs correction. He understands the anger of his friends and family. This is why it takes him much deliberation before he can even come close to making a decision. He plays both sides right up until the end, listening to Danzo, as well as Fugaku and Shisui, paying attention to the current atmosphere in the Leaf as he tries to decide.

It is something he doesn't want to do. Here's where I get to the part I put in the tags of my drawing.

In this situation, it's almost worthless to write an analysis about Itachi's feelings at this time, his understanding of what was actually going on, his loyalty to his clan or his loyalty to the Leaf, because really, he could not grasp it. He was never prepared for this. He never knew he would be asked to make a decision he could only understand as "your family or the world?"

Itachi was put in a position that had no happy ending. There was no decision he could make that would not hurt. That could not result in a cataclysm that split him right down the middle. There was no version of this story that a 13-year-old could carry out thinking "I have done the right thing."

And that's the important part. Both sides asked him to make this decision, and so both sides are guilty of placing an immeasurable pressure on a child who should never have been put in such a position. Regardless of ideology, regardless of price, regardless of oppression or loyalty or devotion or any other thing- someone else should have made this decision for Itachi. Someone else should have been responsible. An adult, at the very least. Someone who COULD understand the implications of both options. Someone who COULD go forward and appreciate the evil of fascism and know that a coup was necessary. Itachi was never capable of such a thing. If he made the "wrong" decision, than every child who can't explain to you what a fascist government in a military state looks like and explain what the difference is between a hate crime and resisting a hateful power, is also wrong. Here is the nuance. These are things a 13-year-old in this universe cannot be expected to understand unless they are taught. And Itachi had no teacher. Quite the opposite. There were only forces pressing him from both sides, saying "choose."

Had his father done this for him, had Shisui been in this position, had any other adult Uchiha acting as a spy been put to this task, it would be a much different narrative. But of course, it had to be Itachi, who Danzo knew he could manipulate. It had to be a child, someone skilled enough to do the job, but inexperienced enough, afraid enough, to be willing to sacrifice everything they had to see the mission through. Someone you could whisper "greater good" to and have them hand over their well being on a plate. Someone who didn't understand they had the power and strength to destroy the system threatening them.

On a narrative level, Itachi exists to illustrate this point. How young people are systematically indoctrinated to serve a greater purpose, be it under a specific government, religion, or otherwise. We see it in real life fascism, in real life cults. There's no mistake. It isn't an accident that Itachi's story begins like this.

Which brings me to the rest of his life. The reason I drew the picture in the post referenced at the top. Itachi's character is a bit of a mystery the rest of the anime. Be that because of bad writing or an intentional omission, his motives, thoughts, and opinions are largely left ambiguous. However, there are still a few moments that interest me as far as the implications of his development.

When Itachi first comes back to the Leaf village, he faces Kakashi. On the one hand, this could simply be a narrative tool- the big bad meets the big good. He takes Kakashi out of commission! The first rogue shinobi we see who is able to defeat the pillar of the Leaf, the Copy Ninja, and without even breaking a sweat!

On the other hand, I find the brutality of Itachi's attack very intriguing. Again, it could be the tough guy act, but he's able to keep three jonin busy easily using standard genjutsu (with the help of Kisame). It wouldn't be a stretch to say that using the tsukuyomi is overkill, and at a considerable price, we learn later.

Why then would Itachi, who has been shown to have excellent battle intelligence, who is strategic to a fault, be willing to jeopardize his health among other things just to... scare the Leaf? Make sure Kakashi wouldn't be a nuisance in the future? Sure, the last one would make collecting Naruto less complicated, but they dispatched Kakashi easily enough, and surely Jiraiya, who Naruto was with at the time, would pose a bigger problem than Kakashi.

It doesn't make strategic sense, which makes me wonder if Itachi has a special animosity toward Kakashi. Being his superior in the ANBU before the Uchiha massacre, someone who was willing to conduct surveillance of the Uchiha compound without question, Kakashi could have become a symbol of the indifference of the Leaf for Itachi. He could very well have been a reminder of the inoperable position Itachi was put in when he was still a child, and Kakashi, of course, was an adult. Another adult who did nothing. Noticed nothing. Did not help Itachi.

And while I'm certain that Kakashi would have taken severe issue with the goings on in the Leaf at that time, judging by his reaction when he finds out the truth in Shippuden, Itachi knows him only by what he did then. Facilitated surveillance of the Uchiha compound, was a supportive superior, but nothing greater. A bystander whose compassion, while well meaning, was entirely unhelpful.

I don't think it's far fetched that Itachi fucking crucified Kakashi because he was so angry at what being in the Leaf did to him. At some point, as he got older, he realized how terrible it was. He realized there were people like him. Children who were "born killers". Pawns in the game of the shinobi powers.

After leaving the village, Itachi joins the Akatsuki, who are also seeking peace through war (another story). He is supposed to spy for them, but doesn't follow through in any enthusiastic way (that we're shown). He works alone for quite some time, or else with a group (briefly he was shown with Conan and Kakuzu). He is partners with Orochimaru before he's expelled from the Akatsuki. He is partners with one of the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist. He grows up and meets many people, sees lots of stories unfold. He learns that he isn't in a minority. Many shinobi are just like him.

And then, as an adult, he is partnered with Kisame, who he finds excellent camaraderie with because of their similar backgrounds. We see in this relationship that he understands what happened to him and what he did enough to acknowledge that, while neither of them are monsters, as many people say, they are human. And humans make mistakes. Humans are complicated. Wrong and right and wrong and right. They understand each other, and Itachi understands more clearly what the world puts these children up to. What it forces shinobi to become. That it isn't all his fault, but he still did it. And so he is responsible. He appears to be able to live with that.

But when he returns to the Leaf, those feelings bubble up. He hates the Leaf. He hates that system. He hates what he did. Maybe he even hates being a shinobi, how his excellence was weaponized, how being an Uchiha doomed him and his clan. And for what?

Itachi is played as a character who is only sensible, only logical, only interested in practical things, has nothing to express. But the way he behaves toward Kakashi in that moment bares all his grief and anger. I just like to think about it. We have so few moments where we get to see Itachi genuinely. The fight with Kakashi, the Sasuke/Deidara fight, his thoughtful moments with Kisame. Just makes me wonder what could've been if Itachi's story had gone a little differently.

Anyway, if anyone would like me to expand on any points or has additional thoughts, feel free to hop in my ask box or leave a comment. Thanks for the interest, I love to talk.

[etaleah]

Absolutely sucks that your blog is ravaged with proshipping apologia. Like yeah enjoying dark subject matter in fiction doesn't mean you condone it IRL (I myself am an avid gore and kink fan and use that to express my feelings in art) but uhhh there's a difference between depicting pedophilia in a story and actively jacking it to child porn which is what most if not all proshippers are trying to justify.

The Venn diagram between proshippers and anime lolicons is a circle. "Ohhh it's not real" yeah sure technically but that's still very much a child being raped on screen you're getting your rocks off to. Being in the second dimension doesn't negate that.

Most proshippers don't actually care about properly depicting complex subject matter in art. They just wanna write their incest rape South Park fics and call anyone who calls them out on it "puritans." (I doubt any of you really understand what that word means. If not liking child porn makes me a puritan then call me the Virgin fucking Mary.) It's all excuses, excuses.

Fiction affects reality more than you think. It's why propaganda is so effective. It's why Jim Crow and minstrelsy was (and still is tbh) so harmful to African Americans. Why do you think POC care about how they're depicted in media so much? It very much influences thinking, how people see the world.

(There is an argument to be made about the rampant racism in fandom, but that's a whole other conversation.)

Don't dismiss this ask. I want you to read it very carefully and get yourself out of the echo chamber you've put yourself in. Consider the points made at the very least. Use the "critical thinking" you claim to love so much.

I have considered the points you made and read them very carefully, and I have found them incorrect, relying on faulty logic, and full of unverified assumptions and false equivalences. I now bring you a full breakdown of exactly why, though I’m putting it under a cut in case anyone wants to avoid the Discourse™ because this breakdown is a long one.

*cracks knuckles* Here we go!

You clearly have a different definition of “proship” than I do. I and those that I have reblogged or liked (as far as I can tell) are “proship” in the sense that we’re arguing for the freedom to read what you want and write what you want because thoughtcrime isn’t real, no one gets hurt inside your head, and the ability to read and write what we wish is vital to a free society. That’s my definition of “proship,” and if you have a different definition and are determined to stick to it, there’s not much I can do about that. I can only tell you what my definition is so that you know what I’m referring to when I talk about it in this post or reblog posts mentioning it.

If you’re referring to what’s on AO3 (which is what I am mainly concerned with, as I don’t talk about other fanfic sites on my blog), that is not child porn. It’s not. The term child porn refers to sexual photos and videos of real children, not text-only stories about fictional ones. AO3 does not allow users to upload videos nor does it allow users to upload photos except for their profile pictures, and it is literally written into their Terms of Service that they do not allow child pornography on their site. You couldn’t put child porn on AO3 if you tried. Text by itself with no photos or videos accompanying it is not child porn, and that’s true no matter how disgusting and immoral you find it. I don’t support or justify child porn because I don’t support or justify real children being hurt, which is what actual child porn involves and requires.

What I do support is the freedom for everyone to read and write what they want, and I am not going to stop supporting that.

How do you know that the people reading or writing a fic are “getting their rocks off to” or “actively jacking it” to what's in it? Did they tell you? Have you developed telepathic powers and read their minds? How do you know that people “don’t actually care about properly depicting complex subject matter in art?” Don’t dismiss those questions, answer them. You don’t know why someone is reading something and you don’t know why someone is writing something. I have no idea whether the person checking Mein Kampf or Birth of a Nation out of a library is a racist who agrees with everything in both works or a scholar doing research for a paper on racism or just an average joe who wants to see what’s in there for themselves and form their own conclusions, which is a perfectly fine and intellectually healthy thing to want. I don’t know which of these is the case and I’m not going to automatically assume the worst-case scenario, nor am I going to demand that the person checking out those works provide me with an explanation because they don’t owe me one. You don’t know why someone is reading or writing a rape or incest story. Maybe they find it sexy or maybe they’re a victim themselves, working through their trauma by expressing it via the written word. You don’t know which one it is, and they don’t owe you an explanation. I’d advise you not to automatically assume the worst-case scenario either.

Because you know what happens when people assume the worst of an author’s intentions and assume they know what a work is doing? You get situations like Isabel Fall’s and Lindsay Ellis’ where people were sure they knew that the former was being transphobic with her short story and that the latter was trivializing rape with her “rape rap.” They were so sure, as sure as you are in your ask, not a doubt in their minds, didn’t think it was possible for there to be any other reason or interpretation, and so they felt totally justified in harassing those women. I’m sure each of them convinced themselves they were doing this because they were an ally who just cared so much and that those authors deserved the hate they were getting because (gasp!) they wrote something bad and if you write something bad, you should expect to be called out. And then they found out—oops! Turns out Isabel Fall was a trans person and not a cis person being transphobic after all, and was actually writing a story about a subject she had plenty of experience with, and—oops! Turns out Lindsay Ellis was an assault victim herself and she was coping with her trauma in the best way she could because making a lighthearted rap about the subject made it more accessible, easier to deal with, and not as scary and she wasn’t making fun of victims after all. Whoops!

How do you know the people writing these fics you find so horrible aren’t doing something similar to Ellis and Fall? How do you know they aren’t victims working through their grief and trauma in a way that helps them? How do you know you’re not misjudging and assuming the worst of them just like Fall’s and Ellis’ haters misjudged and assumed the worst of them? Don’t dismiss those questions, answer them. How do you know?

Why do you get to be the authority who decides what “properly depicting complex subject matter in art” even looks like? Maybe someone else read it and decided it was properly depicted; why does your opinion and interpretation matter more than theirs? Why is yours the correct one? Don’t dismiss those questions, answer them.

I don’t know what anime lolicon is, so I’m not gonna comment on that, though I will say it disproves your point about the Venn diagram being a circle since I am technically a proshipper and yet I don’t even know what that is. I’m sure if you look hard enough, you can probably find someone using the proship label who has done something bad or supports something bad, but the same can be said about antis. You get assholes in every group. Doesn’t mean everyone in the group is a bad person.

(Also I know this isn’t the most important point here but the fact that you’re more worried about the content of South Park fanfics rather than the South Park show itself says to me that you care more about finding an easy target than about minimizing harm because that show has plenty of racist and anti-Semitic “jokes” in it that are being fed to a much larger audience than any fanfic of it could ever have, yet I don’t see you being worried at all about that. Wonder why.)

(Another less important point but one I’m still going to indulge in: I find your line about “if that makes me a puritan then call me the Virgin Mary” funny in an ironic way because in trying to claim that people don’t know what the word puritan means, you proved that you yourself don’t know what it means by implying that puritan = virgin. Puritan and virgin are not the same thing. Virgin is a state of being that could be voluntary or, if you want sex but can’t find anyone to give it to you, it could be involuntary. One could be a virgin and still be sex-positive just like one could be a religious fundamentalist with ten kids who’s had all the sex required to make those ten kids but still be sex-negative and think that only the straight married baby-making kind is okay and all other kinds are impure and gross. Unlike virginity, puritanism is a mindset, not a state of being, and therefore it is always voluntary. You can be one without being the other. Again, not a super important point, but I thought the irony of that line was funny.)

You do know that Jim Crow was a set of laws and policies set down by the government and enforced by police and courts and not, like…a dirty fanfic or book, right? You do know that? It was and still is a legal framework that’s baked into the justice system and has been the driving force behind everything from mass incarceration to drug policy to redlining and housing to voter disenfranchisement. Bitch, I fucking wish that Jim Crow was nothing more than a bad fanfic or a bad story; that would make it a hell of a lot easier to fight! Acting like any one (fan)fiction writer or any one piece of (fan)fiction has the same amount of power as the fucking US government is some insane false equivalence.

As for the representation argument, you’re misunderstanding what that movement is about and why the founders of it cared about the state of media. We Need Diverse Books and organizations like it did not start their campaigns because they were disgusted by what White writers were doing and wanted to stop them and make sure they could never do it again. They started their campaigns to empower and encourage authors of color. It began when a few Black mothers were looking for books for their kids and realized they couldn’t find any with a Black child on the cover, not because they read something a White person wrote and were so horrified by it that they had to put a stop to it. Being so horrified by something in a story that you have to put a stop to it is what Moms for Liberty does. The goal of the representation matters movement is to diversify the publishing industry since it’s still majority White, to publish more authors of color because most of the authors being published are still White, and to update school curriculums so that students of color can read about and study characters like themselves. All of which are good and reasonable goals. It is not and never was about telling people what they were and were not allowed to write or read, or saying that they’re bad people because of what they write or read.

“Influences thinking” and “affecting reality” are not the same as controlling or determining thinking and reality. If fiction really does affect how people see the real world, then why, in a time when we have more positive books/movies/TV shows/plays of and by POC and positive queer books/movies/TV shows/plays than ever before, are we still dealing with vicious racism and homophobia? If fiction influences thinking and affects reality and how people see the world so much, then why, in a time when we have Drag Queen Story Hour and trans characters are being featured positively in popular TV shows and trans actors are winning awards, are we still dealing with some of the worst transphobia we’ve ever seen? Don’t dismiss those questions, answer them.

Fiction doesn’t make things happen. Playing violent video games doesn’t make a person violent. Reading or writing about an immoral act does not mean you agree with, get off to, or are going to do the immoral act. And that’s true regardless of what the immoral act in question is, whether it's gore or kink or rape or incest.

The problem with “you can read/write what you want except for X because X is gross/morally wrong” is that the bigots and mean-spirited folks of the world will find a way to make anything they don’t like into X. That’s the part antis don’t think about. But we’re already seeing it play out in school board meetings.

“We don’t want to ban Maus because it talks about the Holocaust, we want to ban it because uhhh it has pictures of naked prisoners in the camps and therefore it’s pornography.”

“We don’t want to ban Beloved because it talks about slavery, we want to ban it because uhhh it has a slave getting raped in it and therefore it’s pornography and sexually explicit and won’t someone think of the children!”

“We don’t want to ban all of these books because they have Black kids on the covers, we want to ban them because uhhh they’re critical race theory and indoctrination that teaches White kids to hate themselves!”

“We don’t want to keep drag queens out of libraries because we hate them and are transphobic, we want to keep them out of libraries because uhhh they’re sexualizing minors and teaching them to mutilate their genitals!”

Those are real examples. And they will happen to fanfiction too if we’re not careful. Someone doesn’t like Sonadow? Well they’re not against it because they’re homophobic or just don’t like the ship, they’re against it because uhhh it’s pedophilia since Shadow is 50-65 depending on how you count it and Sonic is 15. If it can happen with books, it can happen with fanfiction.

We’ve already seen cases of people running for board positions on AO3 who talked about “cleaning up the site,” and each time it turned out they were homophobic and were very much including queerness in what they considered “dirty.” That’s going to keep happening because antis keep falling for it and getting swept up in a manufactured moral panic without thinking through what the enforcement would be like. The whole reason AO3 has the policies that it does is because these kinds of purges happened regularly on other sites. Every time, people insisted it was “just the bad ones,” “just the immoral ones,” “just the underage ones,” etc. And it never was. And after every purge, there’d be a lot fewer queer love stories in the world.

How are you going to make sure that doesn’t happen again? How will you decide whose definitions of terms like “pedophilia,” “grooming,” “underage,” “sexualizing,” “fetishizing” get used? That’s the part antis never think about, is what enforcement of what they want would actually involve. Some people think “underage” is anyone under 25 or under 20 and some think it’s anyone under 18. Which one is right? Who gets to decide? Which country’s age of consent is the correct one that fanfic writers around the world all have to abide by regardless of where they’re from, and why is that country’s age of consent the correct one? Whose interpretation of a work is the correct one? And whoever ends up making these decisions, how will you stop this decision maker who gets to say what counts as “properly and improperly depicting complex subject matter” and what doesn’t from shifting the goalposts and abusing their power? How will you stop them from applying those negative labels to just any work they don’t like? What checks and balances will be put in place to keep whoever does the fanfiction gatekeeping from abusing that position? Don’t dismiss those questions, answer them. I’ve yet to see an anti have an answer to these questions.

I know propaganda is effective because you’ve fallen for it. The idea that peoples’ ability to read and write what they want must be restricted because Think of the Children™ and because “only bad people would ever want to read/write something bad” is the same talking points used by Moms for Liberty, Ron DeSantis, the people protesting Drag Queen Story Hour, and so many others. Every single time an attempt is made to restrict the freedom to read and write, it is always couched in the paternalistic language of protection, safety, just looking out for kids, and the fearmongering language of “that stuff is freaky, dirty, and gross and only a pervert would ever have a problem with it being banned.” Every time, it is discussed with the language of protection and safety, and every time, it is a lie.

I support the right of everyone to read and write what they want because I don’t know their situation, don’t have the right to demand an explanation of their situation or a detailed account of their very private and personal traumas, and have seen what happens when people try to excuse banning and censorship of written text or harassing authors with the excuses of “it’s just the bad ones,” “we’re just protecting kids,” “we just have a few concerns,” “we’re just being good allies,” and “if I wrote something gross I’d expect to get called out!”

So. Now that I have responded to your points, I hope that you will very carefully read and consider my points at the very least and get out of your echo chamber and use some critical thinking too. The fact that you put the phrase critical thinking in quotes like it’s a fake thing that doesn’t exist instead of a real and very important skill reveals a lot more than I think you meant it to, but still I hope you try.

I’ve disabled anonymous asks because I want to see if you’re brave enough to respond without hiding behind anonymity. I’ll be interested to see if you or anyone who agrees with you actually provides thoughtful, well-reasoned, and well-articulated answers to the questions I’ve asked instead of replying with a thought-terminating ad hominem like “That was a lot of words to say that you’re a [insert bad thing here]!” or “Just say you [insert bad thing here] and go!” And if you can actually provide evidence for your claims, if you can provide non-anecdotal, verifiable studies and data that are not from a religious or rightwing think tank that prove your points about proshipping and proshippers, then I’ll really be impressed.

I’m not holding my breath though.

[justladders]

A Thing About Asks

Just wanted to talk about something that's been happening to me a lot more as of late and figured it needed to be its own post.

I get your all's asks. I see them and get an idea for something to say back. Since this is an art blog, a lot of the time the ask is something art related, which means drawing something to answer them.

I have a lot to do irl, outside of the internet, outside of this site. When I get on Tumblr, I want to look at/laugh with/share art and whatnot. This is basically the one place I go for that. When I'm free at home, I get to spend some time of that time drawing for myself, for projects, and even for answering asks.

I like getting asks. I like when people have something they're curious about, want to share, or want an opinion on, and it's nice to know there are people that are comfortable with bringing some of those questions/ideas to me. And yet, asks are not my #1 priority. I have things I already want to make. It's why I do any art at all. I have jokes, designs, concepts, and stories that I want to put down and be able to share. Replying to asks that bring something new to the table is fun too, and sometimes that's what I feel like doing when I get my free time.

I have some very old asks that I still haven't gotten to. It's not even that I don't want to answer them, but I find motivation to create certain and specific things to be extremely fickle. I'll answer asks out of order: some very old, some literally as soon as I get them. I don't try to pick and choose, I just draw whatever whenever I have the drive to.

But.

Spamming the inbox doesn't make me answer faster. In fact, it makes me want to not answer at all, because I don't condone or want to reward that kind of behavior.

An ask is not a free pass to *demand* art. I should make a point that I don't think of a lot of asks I get as being like this. I understand that the thing about being an art blog means lots of questions for/about/of characters that I draw, and I like that. It's fun to create interactions and that kind of thing. I don't think everyone that has an ask about potentially drawing something is "trying to get free art," there are just some people that will repeatedly hound as if they are owed something. (It's sometimes hard to tell if an ask even sent -I know, I use this site too- so I don't consider it badgering if you're like, "I can't actually tell if that worked so sorry if this is a repeat.")

Asks are not a contract. And certainly not a timed one. In relation to the last point, I and other artists are not "obligated" to get to asks "on time." Receiving an ask doesn't mean the artist has to drop everything to go answer it, use up their free time, etc. If they want to respond, they will. You might not even know them. You might just be a complete stranger to them. You might not know what their day or schedule looks like. They don't have to set aside whatever they're doing to answer.

This isn't because I'm mad, it just feels like this doesn't ever get addressed and needed to be.

[rollercoasterwords]

tried to read wfrau as i saw people rec it, but there's something bothering me in that fic. i don't like the alpha-male-ification of remus in wfrau. remus is not a beast who can fight another beast werewolves. he was a timid, sheltered boy in canon, but it's like you're making him fit into the fanon toxic wolfstar heteronormative box. it feels weird to read. please don't make me start on why it seems like you hate sirius OR use sirius as a self-insert to indulge in your fetishization of remus. like why do you write sirius as abused, when it was canonically remus who was disabled. can you consider rewrite some points in the fic, aligned to canon?

lmao where do i even start with this. uhhhhh okay first of all to answer your question - no, i will not be rewriting to make my non-canon-compliant fic more compliant with canon. if you don't like it, i suggest you don't read it! i'm not writing the story for you, and i'm not really sure why you think it would matter to me whether you like it or not. there are plenty of other fics out there that you can go read.

this fic was explicitly written to be a werewolf-fighting ring au. if you don't like remus fighting other werewolves, then i'm baffled as to why you even started it in the first place, considering that it's clearly tagged "werewolf fighting ring." i don't agree with your interpretation of canon that he was a "timid, sheltered" boy; even if i did, this fic is specifically exploring how the characters would be different in an au, non-canon-compliant version of their world. if the gay romance between two men is too heteronormative for you, there are, again, other fics out there that you can read. and if you don't want to read about "toxic" relationships then u DEFINITELY shouldn't read this fic, because none of the relationships in it are wholesome and healthy lmao. if you think i hate sirius...i don't even know what to say lol. like yeah i hate him so much that i've written hundreds of thousands of words of fanfiction about him. that checks out! and remus is fetishized in this fic for being a werewolf, which is a topic that gets explored in-depth in his pov chapter and is not something condoned by the narrative. i'm assuming you didn't read that far, though, and that what you mean by "fetishization" is the fact that sirius finds him sexy. so. again, i think you probably should just not read this fic if characters being sexually attracted to each other bothers you. i write sirius as being abused because that's the story i wanted to tell; not really sure how remus being canonically disabled is something that would cancel that out? those are two separate things. and remus's canonical disability is his lycanthropy, which....also exists in this fic. and is another topic that gets explored throughout the story.

in conclusion i truly cannot emphasize enough that i am not the person out here reccing this fic, i am not trying to grow an audience or go viral or any of that bullshit. not sure where you got the rec from, but i have actually asked people not to post about my fics on tiktok to try and avoid them blowing up there, because i do not want people like you reading them. i include an entire warning on the first chapter about the fact that this fic is dark and deals with heavy topics; i've tagged the fic thoroughly and have also included "additional tags to be added" to remind people that it's a wip and things are subject to change. all this is to emphasize -- i really, really, really don't care if any person reading the fic dislikes it. i don't care if they dislike it so much that they have to stop reading, because i don't care how many people are reading it in the first place!! i'm writing this story purely for fun, for myself, so i'm going to write what i want to write. even if you intended for this message to be polite, it just comes off as incredibly entitled to ask a stranger on the internet to spend hours of time and labor tailoring a story to your specific tastes, and if you think this type of message is okay to send then i think you should genuinely sit down and reevaluate the way you approach fandom. nobody is making you read fics you don't like, so just....don't read them.

[couchsterfield]

i am very guilty of reading american psycho solely on the text/surface level stuff, like how i focus alot on characters and relationships like with McDermott and Price, when the whole point of those characters are to be part of this shallow and uncharacteristic culture, that they actually shouldn't even HAVE any charm to them at all, and obviously-- they are yuppies!! they are racists, misogynists, homophobes and its shown multiple times how they tease and humiliate homeless people.

so obviously i dont "like" these characters in the same way i like.. idk vash the stampede or whoever, because actually they can all go fuck fheirselves!! Im actively MISSING the POINT by focusing or being entertained by the people around Bateman since they are supposed to faceless interchangeable characters that dont matter

but still, i cant help but be entertained by all of their social interactions and i dont know WHY 😭 even the scenes that are meant to showcase how boring shallow and materialistic they are fails to bore me and im instead gigglimg at everything

like van patten constantly saying "we have like zero point zero zero zero zero one decimal percent of getting aids" or whatever is so funny cus girl shut up and eat ur food😭😭

and you cant sit here and tell me craig mcdermott's being so insanely funny as someone interchangeable LIKE SORRY but bob farrell cannot start chanting red snapper pizza like craig mcdermott can ✋

biggest example is the chapter "another night" where they spend like 4 hours trying to get a reservation. ITS SO FUNNY IMNSORRY..!! like the ridiculousness of it all just makes it so hilarious, like guys its never that serious.......

And i could write SO much about the depth of tim price as a character?? like hes just supposed to be this guy of higher status that patrick looks up to but all that is implied characterizes him alot !!??

I dont know.. again, i dont have that media literacy to read the subtext , (i mean OBVIOUSLY i can figure out the story being the critique of the overconsumption and materialism of yuppie culture and bateman being a result of it ) and it does sorta guilt me to be giggling over an interaction or a relationship between characters especially since everyone disregards these characyers as just faceless nothingness in batemans life, like no im not supposed to read the dialogue so literally they are meant to be filler empty conversations that mean nothing

But yeah i still love reading about these characters, idk what my main takeaway is, i guess tldr: i understand the point of these characters, i dont condone any of them actually but i still enjoy them

[alpaca-clouds]

Telling Stories to better the World

*looks on the calender* You know what time it is? Yeah, it is time for the alpaca to rave on about the power of stories once again. Because I kinda feel that we cannot talk about that enough.

Say it loud and say it clear: Stories have power over us.

The baddies kinda understand that. Which is why they use stories as propaganda tools. I mean, there is a reason why the US Military funds the Marvel movies and stuff like Top Gun. Because it is propaganda that exists to serve their goal.

And humans also have always kinda understood it. Because guess what: Fairytales existed as teaching tools. Be it to teach kids to not run into the forest at night... Or do a Beauty and the Beast and exist to teach young girls that: "Hey, your political husband might be abusive, but you can try and tame him, girl!"

A lot of oral stories have once existed for such reasons. To both teach people about the world and reaffirm a society's values. And this is still true to this day.

I have been harping on anarchist ideas vs capitalist ideas for the last few days and the entire story thing plays into this a lot.

And yeah, I gotta crap on the MCU here once more, because it kinda is the most influencial offender here. Because those people know the power of stories. Which is why in most of the MCU movies the bad guys wanna change the system - while the good guys heroically defend the status quo without ever questioning whether or not the bad guys might actually have a point in some cases. (Worst offender is obviously Falcon and the Winter Soldier.)

Given that mass media right now very much is held obviously by the capitalist class, for the most part media only rarely gets to sneak in messages that are too anti-capitalist. (Which is also, why modern Cyberpunk, especially western Cyberpunk, does not have a ton of bite going on.) And in many cases it has to be sneaky and rely on the lack of media literacy in the folks financing the movies. Like the Matrix, for example. But in that case they obviously run the risk of the viewer also not quite getting that message, if they are not primed for it.

But we do need those stories.

We need stories in which people rebel against a system and win. In which those rebels are allowed to be heroic, instead of the narrative going: "Well, sure, their goal was admirable, but we just cannot condone violence!"

We also need stories in which people live in a less hierarchical society. In which people are aiding one another. In which it is not rugged individuals saving the world, but close-knit friend groups and communities working together.

And we need stories, in which climate change is stopped in time. In which people live actually on renewables and micro grids. In which people then also live without capitalism. Because we need to learn to view that world as possible,

So, if you are a creator... You know what to do!

[autumnslance]

From the Dawntrail ask list, let's go with 11 'What was their initial impression of Sphene? How did this change as the story progressed?'

Hear more about Aeryn's empathic Echo and the Queen Eternal under the cut...

Borrowing from the Cahciua response:

In my interpretation of how Aeryn's empathic Echo works, it has to be the whole aetheric package; body/memory/soul, as we learned in Shadowbringers and Endwalker about how that all interacts to make a person, and how that aether is recycled to share a soul while the memories are cleansed by the Lifestream before rebirth. So it gets weird with beings of only part of those elements, missing the whole. Aeryn can't "read" Endless like she does others - which in some ways is refreshing, as she tries not to do so, but there's often some bleed through regardless. But it also let her know that Sphene wasn't "right" and Living Memory was a really odd place for Aeryn. Still quite affecting, though, with the hopes and dreams of its people preserved there, the things learned from its denizens.

And yeah, Aeryn and Krile spend a lot of time discussing the similarities in their gifts, as well as the differences. In Aeryn's wolverse, Krile isn't the only one hit with Zoraal Ja's Bad Vibes at points.

Anyway, so Aeryn noticed Sphene in Tuliyollal, but figured there it was the distance, though she could see the stricken expression on the strange girl's face.

But then they met her under the barrier, and Aeryn was immediately put off. She couldn't read Sphene; she just appeared, with no whispered sense of another being present. While it's possible to block out Aeryn's empathy, and she tends to block out others as much as possible, to not have any residual sense at all is generally unnerving. And Sphene more than most, given her long-running entirely artificial nature.

(Is she really the memories of Sphene, or what Preservation thought they were? Or just what they claimed to give the people hope?)

Also: WTF is up with that dress and hair? If nothing else points to her unnatural nature, it's whatever the hells Sphene's fashion program is, cuz the whole look is a study in "but why?!"

So "off put and suspicious for it" was Aeryn in Alexandria. Especially with all of Sphene's aborted attempts to tell them...something, and her non-answers as to Cahciua and how to find her. The queen was helpful only to a point.

One of the first things I noticed was how Sphene's model, mannerisms, voice direction (it is a different VA), and the camera work on her was very, very reminiscent of Meteion in a lot of ways. Everything screamed "here is your next apocalypse maiden" even as you want to like and trust her - just like Meteion.

So Aeryn noticed that sense of foreboding and carried it up to the aftermath of the confrontation with Zoraal Ja; she wasn't surprised when Sphene declared herself Enemy #1. She didn't like it, and wished there was another way. But it wasn't a shock.

By the end, stopping Sphene was something that simply had to be done to save countless lives and end an unsustainable (and to Aeryn's mind, horrific) cycle. She didn't like it, but that the queen was in truth a program made it...slightly easier. And even at the very end, Aeryn could only assure Sphene that she had tried to make her people happy. Because it truly was all that she wanted, and it wasn't really her fault that she'd been locked into a destructive course to try to meet that parameter.

Aeryn does wonder a little about the original, living Sphene, and what she could have, would have done instead. A sick girl who risked her flagging life to save a random citizen during the cataclysm, who opened her borders even to the enemy's civilians to aid them when things went entirely to hells, doesn't strike Aeryn as someone who would condone the deaths of countless worlds without seeking another way. But what we have isn't the original living Sphene, so who can say?

-

This is one of the ways where my playthrough on Dark first, for my own immediate reactions as I go in blind, helps me. It gave me a lot of time to consider how Aeryn would see and interpret the Endless, and Sphene especially, and how she would react as I took a more RP-like approach to playing the MSQ on her, rather than retroactively deciding on it. But that's just how I do it.

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [8] - Bells

A.N: Here’s the new chapter my loves! ❤️ Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Some decisions require late night visits.

Word Count: 2600

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

You didn’t think the rest of the week would be peaceful in any way but even you couldn’t guess just how tense it would be.

“This is insane,” Becca pointed out, crossing her arms and leaning back on her seat. You had decided to meet up for brunch but this time, two other tables in the café were also reserved for your and Becca’s multiple bodyguards who were enjoying their coffees. You stole a look at them, then turned to Becca.

“You’re telling me,” you said. “Four bodyguards everywhere I go. It sounds absurd.”

“And this is Barnes territory!” Becca hissed. “I’ve never ever needed bodyguards in our territory, and all of a sudden...”

“How stressed out is everyone?” you asked and she shook her head with a sigh.

“I could barely see Bucky in these last couple of days,” she said. “My dad said I have nothing to worry about, but you know how he is. It’s kind of condescending, honestly.”

“And your mom?”

“She has this bright idea to send me off to vacation to Zürich until the dust settles here.”

You pulled your brows together. “Will you?”

“No!” she exclaimed. “I’m not leaving any of you here.”

You reached out to squeeze at her hand before grabbing your coffee to take a sip.

“How about you?”

“I think I will get the same speech tonight,” you said. “My dad wants to talk to me.”

“And?”

“I’ll make a counter offer.”

“To?”

“To help out,” you said. “With this situation. Besides, me leaving in a time like this would be basically handing Ian the heir position, and I’m not doing that.”

“Do you think your father will accept that offer though?”

“We’ll see,” you said, trying to ignore the way your stomach did a flip. “I’d be better than Ian than handling this, he has to see that.”

“Bucky says Ian isn’t even carrying a gun anymore,” Becca said with a small laugh and you tilted your head.

“What?”

“Yeah. Apparently he says no one can get to him with his men around him. I guess it’s his way of making them think he trusts them with his life.”

You rolled your eyes. “Right.”

“As much as I hate to admit, it looks like it’s working,” Becca admitted. “He looks pretty confident.”

“Confidence can lead to very huge mistakes,” you said and cleared your throat. “Ugh, let’s talk about something else. How’s everything with Leila?”

“That’s what I wanted to ask you!” Becca said, snapping her fingers. “Do you think it’s still too early to ask her to marry me?”

You blinked a couple of times. “Becca, you two started dating less than a week ago.”

“Yeah but I could still ask her!”

“That’s the hopeless romantic in you speaking.”

“That’s the orgasms speaking actually,” she corrected you, making you grin.

“Either way, neither of those make you think logical.”

“Logical is overrated,” she pointed out. “How about you?”

“Me?”

“You and Ethan?”

“We’re not doing anything,” you said slowly. “I did hire some bodyguards for him though, just in case.”

“Maybe you should take the first step.”

“I’m not going to do that,” you said, shaking your head fervently and she hummed.

“Don’t tell me Bucky’s proposal affected you like that.”

“What? No!” you exclaimed, scrunching up your face. “Why would you say that?”

Becca rolled her eyes.

“Maybe because I’ve known you two my whole life?”

Your frown deepened. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Please,” she said, shooting you a look. “All those glances and so much bickering, it’s obvious something is there—”

“Hate,” you cut her off. “Hate is what’s there.”

Becca gave you a mischievous smile, then sipped her coffee.

“Whatever you say.”

“Bucky and I could never work,” you insisted and Becca hummed.

“What about you and Ethan?”

“Ethan is—” you paused for a moment. “Dating him would be incredibly simple. You know, no ulterior motives, no strategies, nothing complex.”

“That would be so convincing if you could deal with simple more than just a couple of months.”

“You can,” you said and Becca waved a hand in the air.

“I was never promised the heir position,” she said. “It was always Bucky. That’s why I’ve never had that…that burning ambition both of you have. At the end of the day, I do want a simple life Y/N but you’ve never been that type. I don’t think you could actually be happy in a simple relationship.”

You clicked your tongue and leaned back in your chair.

“Well then that complicates things,” you said. “I don’t think I would be happy with someone in the business either.”

“Why not?”

“Are you kidding?” you said with a laugh. “Come on, you know how spouses are treated in the business. You’re just—you’re there as the arm candy, they never let you get involved—”

“That’s the generation before us.”

“Did Bucky put you up to this?” you asked and she huffed out a laugh.

“I didn’t say you should marry my brother,” she pointed out. “I’m just saying maybe you shouldn’t force yourself to like a simple life if you want more than that. Especially if you’re basing your decision on some ancient bullshit rule our families decided to follow.”

You heaved a sigh and took a sip of your coffee.

“Didn’t you just say logical is overrated?” you asked. “Since when are you so logical?”

“I have my moments,” Becca grinned at you. “So. Can we talk about my love life now?”

“Yes but you can’t ask her to marry you.”

“I can ask her to be my fiancée,” Becca stated and you tilted your head.

“That’s…that’s basically the same, Becca.”

Becca rolled her eyes and groaned.

“Fine!” she said. “Can I at least ask her if we should move in together?”

You bit back a smile.

“I’ll give you my permission for that once you two reach the third month.”

“Oh we will,” Becca said with a bright smile. “Great. I’ll send you the house warming party gift list when I get home then.”

                                               *

 You had assumed your father would see you and gave you the same speech Becca got from her parents at home, but apparently he was swamped with work so he had asked you to come to the company. When you got there, your father’s assistant told you he was in the middle of a meeting with Ian and Stark, so you took a seat in the waiting area and stole a look at Ryan who was no doubt waiting for Ian.

“Hi Ryan.”

“Ma’am,” he greeted you, his tone rough but respectful. You smiled at him, crossing your arms.

“Waiting for my cousin?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” you asked and he paused for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders.

“Why are you working for him?” you asked. “He’s an asshole.”

Ryan didn’t even dignify that with an answer as he looked at you, his expression completely calm like he was very used to not giving answers.

 “Riveting conversation as always,” you teased him and he bit back a small smile.

“I respect your family, ma’am.”

“I mean you don’t really have to respect Ian though, God knows he does nothing to earn that,” you pointed out. “You know he’s looking forward to starting a war, right?”

“He’s ready to see you,” the assistant said before Ryan could answer you, and you nodded your head, then stood up from the couch.

“Have a nice evening Ryan.”

“You too ma’am,” he said and you followed the assistant to your father’s office.

“Y/N sweetheart, hello,” he said as he walked to you to press a kiss on your cheek. “Sit down, sit down!”

“How was your meeting?” you asked and he waved a hand in the air.

“The usual,” he said. “I have four other meetings after this.”

“Daddy—”

“I will rest when I get home, I promise,” he said and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Right. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“It’s just that I don’t know when they will be finished, and I figured you’d be asleep by the time I got home,” he said. “Y/N listen—”

“Don’t bother giving me that speech, I’m not going anywhere,” you cut him off and he frowned.

“How did you…?”

“Winnifred gave the same speech to Becca. She tried to send her to Zürich, where are you trying to send me?”

“Wherever you want,” your father said. “I was thinking Florence but…”

“Florence is a gorgeous city,” you said. “I’d love to see it sometime, maybe next Christmas.”

“Y/N.”

You gave him a small grin. “Hm?”

“It’s going to be safer for you if you just go away from the city for a while.”

“While you and Ian handle things?”

“While I handle things.”

“But Ian stays?” you insisted and he ran a hand over his face.

“Yes, but—”

“I’m not going,” you said, your voice firm. “Send him away if you want, but I’m not leaving the city when there’s a war coming.”

“I feel like you need to think about this,” your father said and you shook your head.

“I did think about it.”

“Y/N, I will feel much better if I know you’re away from danger, at least until the dust settles here.”

You sat up straighter, your heart pacing in your chest.

“Dad I can help,” you said. “With all this. You know I can.”

A look of realization dawned on his face.

“We’ve talked about this.”

“No we haven’t,” you insisted. “Not really. We keep ignoring it, ignoring the fact that you haven’t named a successor—”

“That’s because I’m not planning on retiring soon.”

You let out a dry laugh. “Others might believe that lie, but I do not.”

Your father heaved a sigh, then pushed himself off of his seat to come closer to you, then leaned back to his desk, crossing his arms.

“And please tell me, what is it that you want to hear from me right now?” he asked you and you shook your head.

“Don’t patronize me,” you said through your teeth. “You know what I’m capable of, you trained me for times like these. You know I’d make a much better heir than Ian—”

“Y/N, enough.”

“Just give me a chance to prove myself,” you insisted. “That’s all I’m asking. You don’t have to make me the head of all operations, but give me a chance to show you I can do this. I’ve already prepared a plan—”

“Let me stop you right there,” he said. “What you’re suggesting is absolutely out of question.”

Your jaw clenched. “Why?”

“We already have a plan.”

“Okay,” you let out an impatient breath. “Then you can tell me the plan and I’ll help.”

“No need, we have everything covered.”

You could feel the anger bubbling in your stomach but you dug your fingernails into your palm, reminding yourself to stay calm.

“Dad,” you said slowly. “You promised me.”

“And I promised your mother!” he snapped, making you stop talking. “I promised your mother that I would keep you safe, and that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

The bridge of your nose along with the back of your eyes started burning, a sure sign that the tears were on their way but you blinked fast a couple of times, biting at your tongue.

“That was your mother’s dying wish,” he said, looking you in the eye. “I’m not going to break my promise to her.”

You swallowed thickly. “Mom would want me to be happy.”

 “And you think this life would make you happy?” he asked you. “All this bloodshed, this violence?”

“I was born into bloodshed and violence,” you reminded him. “I’ve spent all my life in it. What, you think you can keep me safe by pushing me out of the picture?”

“It’s much safer than being in the middle of it.”

“For now,” you pointed out. “What about the future? I already know three families that will refuse to do business with Ian.”

Your father shrugged his shoulders. “It’s too early to worry about that. I’m not retiring anytime soon.”

“Dad, he wants to start a war.”

“He will see that war isn’t good for business,” he brushed you off. “He’s just very eager to prove himself right now, that’s all. He’s not going to start a war, don’t worry.”

You gritted your teeth and pursed your lips, glaring at him.

“You got your fire from me, your mother was much calmer,” he said with a small smile. “So I swear to you, I understand your frustration and anger very well. The crown you think you want right now? It’s way too dangerous sweetheart. You’ll see it in time that I’m making the right choice.”

The tears blurred your sight for a moment before you blinked them away and wetted your lips, trying to ignore the lump in your throat.

“You’re not going to name me as your successor, are you?” you rasped out. “Nor will you let me prove myself.”

Your father held your gaze in his for a second, then shook his head.

“No.”

The disappointment hit you so hard that it made your head spin. This wasn’t news to you in any way, you had spent years watching your father treat Ian like his successor but actually hearing it from him was enough to make you want to scream. Anger rushed through you, boiling your blood and you bit your tongue hard enough to hurt, and nodded slowly.

“Okay,” you heard yourself say as you stood up, not even looking him in the eye and he took a deep breath.

“Honey…” he started but you walked out of his office without sparing him a glance, your whole body moving as if it was on autopilot. You got to the elevator and pressed the button, then stepped inside and watched the doors close, sniffling as you wiped at your eyes.

Very well then.

If your father didn’t want to give you power, you were going to take it for yourself.

                                               *

The address wasn’t exactly familiar to you seeing that you hadn’t been there before, but your driver knew the way. When you walked into the building and gave the reception your name, it took them less than a minute to guide you to the elevator, everyone around you rushing like they were instructed not to make you wait even for a second. When the elevator stopped at the top floor, a bodyguard led you to the door of the penthouse to knock on the door and you heard the footsteps coming closer before the door opened.

It looked like Bucky had dashed through the apartment to put his jeans on when they told him you were there, seeing that he was breathing quite fast. You let yourself run your gaze over his bare muscular torso, the tattoos over his chest catching your attention before your eyes snapped up to his, your heart skipping a beat.

God damn it, you almost forgot just how handsome he was.

“Charm,” he said, offering you a small smile. “Hi.”

“Hey there,” you said as you walked past him into the penthouse before he could invite you inside and he closed the door behind you.

“This is a nice surprise,” he said while you glanced around. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You took a deep breath and turned around to look at him better, your heart beating in your ears.

“Get rid of whoever is in your bedroom,” you said and shot him a sarcastic smile as you crossed your arms. “We need to talk about the wedding.”

Chapter 9

[dalchiid]

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 49

A story of obsession, fear, and lust. You're a maid whose Masters forbid you in meeting their guests for the night but your luck runs dry when you run into them and catch the attention of Lord Hoseok himself. He's smitten from the beginning and thus, your fate has been decided.

Pairing: Yandere Vampire Hoseok x Fem/AFAB Reader

Word Count: 7,871

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Obsession, Possessive, Angst, Fear, Blood, Biting, Dub-Con, Eventual smut

Will add or remove warnings based on what's in each chapter.

I do not condone the behavior being exhibited in my work. This is solely for entertainment purposes and I hope if any of you are ever in a situation like this that you have the chance and ability to run away from it. Take care out there.

DO NOT copy, edit, or repost my work anywhere.

Chapter 49 Warnings: Yandere, Possessive, Obsession

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When you least expect it you're surrounded by music equipment. From instruments to speakers and what Yoongi calls MIDI. That thing you remember Yoongi having in his room with all the square buttons is apparently called MIDI. He tells you this when you point it out and he says he just might get a new one. In actuality he was here because he wanted new speakers but he can't help but to splurge whenever he sees something new that catches his eye.

You're afraid to touch anything especially after seeing the price tags on most of these things. Not that you can't afford it but it physically hurts you to even think about spending your money on any of this. It's not a part of your interest anyway and you're glad it's not because the cheapest thing you saw so far costs $199.

Yoongi doesn't mind the prices though especially for a pair of speakers that he immediately went for the moment he saw them. You guess these are the ones he was looking for. They seem relatively small but when you look at the price your eyes nearly bulge out.

"1,699," you nearly yell in the shop.

Yoongi just hums as he turns it to check out the back.

It seems your voice caught the attention to one of the store owners because he comes by with a smile.

"Anything I can help you with?"

Yoongi turns his head to look at the man and nods. "Can I test these out?"

When the realization of who it is that's here touching his speakers hits the man's face breaks into a smile. "Ah, Lord Yoongi. Yes! Of course we can test these out."

He takes out his phone and disconnects it from the bluetooth system playing music throughout the store and connects them to the speakers before you. EDM starts rumbling through the speakers and the shop owner takes the time to explain what the features include.

"The NSS60 harnesses metamaterial absorption technology so it absorbs 99% of unwanted noise and produces a purer and more natural sound."

"I know." Yoongi says as he uses the small dial in the back to raise the volume.

You don't think he meant to be rude but it catches the store owner off guard. After listening to the music more he nods with an "Okay" forcing the other man to turn off the music.

"I'll take it."

You know he can afford it but hearing Yoongi say that makes you sweat a little. All those numbers on the price tag are staring back at you menacingly and it takes the store owner talking for you to look away.

"What color would you like?"

"Black." Without hesitation. "You can take it up front. There's still something else I want to look at."

The box filled with the speakers is taken away and you follow after Yoongi who was already making his way towards the section with the MIDIs.

He browses in silence touching everything with his eyes. He only brings his hand out to test the feel of the equipment and if he doesn't like the feel of it he jumps to the next best thing. There's an all black one that catches his attention and he reads what it comes with while you check out the price. It's $99 and you feel like it's the only relatively cheap item around here, but alas Yoongi ignores it for something else.

Eventually he doesn't find anything else that catches his attention though you know he would have liked to get a new MIDI.

"Sorry you didn't find one you like," you say.

He just shrugs as he heads towards the front. "It would have been nice but I was mostly here for the speakers."

He doesn't look the least bit disappointed. In fact there's something about him that makes you smile. There's more pep in his step as he hurriedly makes his way towards his awaiting speakers. He may not do it here in front of these strangers but you guess if you ask him about the new equipment he'll start talking his head off in excitement.

"All good?" The man up front asks.

Yoongi nods and pulls out his wallet in preparation to pay.

When the store owner rings up the final amount which includes tax your stomach swirls in discomfort. Having hobbies is expensive you surmise. Even more so when you make it into a job.

Yoongi is quick to grab the big box and he carries it without a problem out of the door you hold open for him. With one hand he quickly unlocks the car door and sets the box down next to Jimin's jewelry box.

You're standing next to your side of the car with your arms crossed looking at him and it's only when he shuts the door does he look at you.

"What," he asks.

Your smile grows and you try your best to contain it lest he thinks you're going crazy.

"What?" There's a bit of strain when he says that word again.

"Nothing you just seem happy is all."

His eyes shift from left to right as his cheeks grow rosy. Scratching the back of his head he clears his throat and moves around you to get to his side.

"Just get in the car."

You huff a laugh as you get in but you can see the smile on his lips as he opens his door.

You put on your seat belt as does he before starting the car. You don't know what else he has planned but you doubt it's anything to do with the outside anymore. You haven't forgotten the fact that he's a vampire and being out in the sun must be killing him. Not to mention Hoseok is waiting for you back home. Just the thought of that makes you frown but you know it's just something you have to deal with. At least for the time being.

"So," Yoongi starts. "When we get back - all that happened is that we went to the jeweler's and the music shop, yeah?"

"I know."

He hums and the sound is followed by a short pause.

"Thank you. Yoongi."

The vampire gives you a quick look then back. "Don't thank me just yet. The day you leave is when you can thank me."

You smile though it barely reaches your eyes. Then a thought hits you. "Will I be able to stay in contact with you?"

Yoongi's brows raise as he inhales deeply. You think he's going to say no but he surprises you.

"After you're treated you can text me. I want you to be able to tell me when you're finally clean."

You wish you didn't have to get clean but you're running out of options here. So you just nod and smile.

"Okay."

"Okay," he says.

The ride back to his home isn't long. You enjoy every minute of freedom with Yoongi until he brings the car around to reverse into the garage. If he noticed that you have grown quiet he doesn't say but you guess he must already know about how you're feeling right now.

You're looking out the window coming face to face with the familiar setting around you and there's not much you can do about it.

Yoongi turns off the car and sits still for a moment looking out his dashboard window. Nothing is said between you two until he sighs.

"Remember what I said."

"I know," you say.

You turn your head and look at him as he nods. You don't know if it was to you or himself.

You can't help but wonder if he's nervous about the whole deal. Just because he's helped someone before doesn't mean it gets any easier.

"Alright," he says. "Let's go."

The two of you leave the car and he has you hold on to Jimin's gift while he carries the box of speakers inside. You follow after him into the house and without a word he has you come up with him to his study. It's the first time you've been in here so when he has you open the door for him you can't help but to look around.

Much like his room, almost everything is black. You also note his desk is rigged up with equipment you saw back at the music shop. It looks far more like a studio than it does a study.

He sighs as he places the box down onto the couch pressed up against the wall. When he turns around he stretches out his hand for the jewelry box and you hand it to him.

"It's nice in here," you say.

Yoongi hums. "It's a bit of a mess but okay."

You huff a laugh. It really isn't a mess but he's adamant in saying it is. You'll let him have his win.

The smile you have on your face drops a little and it's here you know he can read your mood. He doesn't have to be Taehyung to know something is wrong with you.

"Make sure to text Minjeong if you don't hear from her by tomorrow night." The words come out in a hushed tone.

You nod your head. "I will."

He purses his lips before placing the jewelry box on his desk. "Let's get you to Hoseok. I'm sure he's on edge waiting for you."

The corner of your lip lifts up into a half smile that's directed at him and not the fact that his brother is indeed waiting on you.

He stretches out his hand to lead you out of the open door and down the hall to Hoseok's study. When you get there he knocks on the door twice but opens it without waiting for his brother to tell him to come in.

Hoseok is sat in his chair facing the door with a smile on his face. "You're back," he says and you swear you hear a sigh of relief come from him.

"I told you I would bring her back safe and sound."

Yoongi's words makes Hoseok's smile widen and he can't help but to chuckle.

"That you did." He stretches his arm out. "Come here, baby."

You give Yoongi a look - a small smile - before walking towards Hoseok. Once you're within his grasps he pulls you onto his lap and wraps his arms around your middle. Small kisses are made against your cheek then your neck and he stops when Yoongi talks to him.

"Traffic isn't that bad today so if you want to take her out do it before it hits."

"Will do." Hoseok replies.

Yoongi waves at you then bidding you goodbye but you know it's just for now so you wave back. He closes the door softly behind him leaving you to Hoseok who goes back to kissing your cheek.

"I missed you," he says.

You only hum in response because if you tell him the truth you know he'll make you regret it. That and you've decided to take things up a notch. You're going to lean into his touch more often and initiate whatever contact you can with him. You need Hoseok to lower his guard. All so he can trust you more - trust in leaving you alone more often. Until a solid plan is made between Minjeong and Yoongi then when he least expects it you'll be gone. So without hesitation you lean your head against his shoulder.

You know it catches him off guard because he stiffens but you know it's not out of discomfort. He's trying to gauge you and see what your intentions are. Hoseok isn't stupid. He knows you don't love him but you'll try and make him believe you're on your way there.

"You okay, my love," he asks.

You nod your head.

"Everything okay between you and Yoongi?"

You nod again. "I just," you pause. Play coy. "It's nothing."

Hoseok leans back in his chair with you still in his arms. His thumb brushes against your clothed hip but you feel it all the same.

"Tell me," he says. "I want no secrets between us. You know this."

You make a face he can't see but it's all acting. "Forget about it," you say as you lean straight up. "It's stupid and embarrassing."

Hoseok's grip on you tightens leaving you stuck on his lap. You're waiting for the right moment to say this.

"Y/N look at me."

You do so hesitantly and you see he has a small frown on his face.

"Let me in. Tell me. I'm sure it's neither of those things you said."

You sigh and look off towards the side. It takes you a second to respond but when you do you grumble the answer out fast.

"Imissedyou."

He grows quiet. You chance a look at his face and you see a look of surprise. Puppy dog eyes with slightly parted lips. He's clearly shocked by your answer.

You hate how he looks at you so you sigh as you try to stand up but he doesn't let you.

"You missed me," he asks. His words are soft almost as if he's afraid of scaring you off now that the words are out.

You have to remind yourself that you're doing this for yourself so you nod. What comes next is one of his hands leaving your middle to cup your face as he leans in to kiss your lips.

The kiss is soft - gentle as they mold together with your own. When he pulls back to look at you he smiles like a man in love.

"I missed you too."

And to make it all the more believable you smile though it barely reaches your eyes.

He goes to pat your leg with his hand that cupped your cheek and urges you to move off his lap.

"I can finish work another time. There's something I want to do with you."

Your brow raises in mild interest. "What is it?"

"The Fall festival. They started a little early this year and I've been eyeing it for a bit. Today the weather isn't too bad so I thought might as well."

Your brows draw together. "What's that about?"

He smiles. "It's a neat little event that takes place around this time of year every year. There's games we can play, things to see and buy if we want. We can paint our faces and even do some pumpkin carving. There's a lot to do is what I'm saying."

"Oh. That sounds nice."

Hoseok turns off his computer and stands up with a smile still on his face. "It is. Let me just go and grab my wallet from upstairs. Come with me. Tell me about what you and Yoongi did today."

You follow after him as he leaves the room and grab his hand when he offers it to you.

"Not much. We picked up Jimin's present and went to get Yoongi his new speakers."

"Yeah? You were out for a while so I thought you might have done something else."

You hum.

You can't let him know what else you did so you lie. "We were just enjoying the scenery. The leaves are changing colors."

"Ah," he says as you enter the bedroom where he lets your hand go. "The trees are really pretty this time of year so I get it. We can check that out more at the festival."

Once he has his wallet the two of you make your way down to grab his keys then out into the garage. From there he makes sure you both have everything before you head out.

On the road, Hoseok turns on the radio and searches for a station. It takes a minute until he finds one and has it play on low. It's just something to fill the air whenever you two stay quiet.

He stretches out his hand for you to grab and you take it. He brings yours up to his lips and kisses them softly.

"I think you'll love the festival," he says.

The only way this could be ruined for you is knowing you're going with Hoseok but you're not going to let that bother you. You can't let it bother you if you're trying to sweep him off his feet with your actions.

"I'm sure I will."

You catch him smiling.

"I've went once or twice before with my brothers. Taehyung loves it and so does Namjoon. Jungkook won't admit it but when we were making pottery he was really quiet and focused on what he was doing. Whenever he gives his all like that it's because he's enjoying himself."

"Oh." It's all you can say. Especially after he dropped Namjoon's name on you.

It seems like Hoseok isn't finished though because he hums before speaking.

"Can I ask you a question?"

You look at him then back towards the front. His hold on you is neither loose nor tight and he keeps a neutral look on his face. What did he want to know?

"Sure," you say.

"Why haven't you been wanting to hang out with Namjoon as of late?"

You stop breathing for a second with your heart skipping a beat. You lick your lips nervously but you try to remain calm to avoid Hoseok picking up on anything.

"I'm just asking," he says. "I don't mind having you with me it's just you normally would hang out with him than be with me."

And he's right but that's all changed. Being reminded as to why you're not with Namjoon anymore hurts. You don't have the urge to cry but what can you cry when at just the thought of him you feel empty?

"Y/N?"

Sighing you look off out your window as you try to come up with a reason. It takes you a second until you find one.

"I've just been wanting to be with you," you say. "It's been a while since I've had this... feeling of wanting to be with you."

The radio fills the silence that comes. You don't know if what you said was right? Would he believe you? You can barely believe yourself. You think you might have laid it on a little thick and now you're just waiting for him to tell you that he knows you're lying.

Hoseok lets go of your hand and you look at him to see he's pulling off towards the side of a curb. You look around thinking you might have arrived to the festival but you see nothing that would indicate that. Nothing and no one is here.

"Hoseok," you call to him.

"Stay here," he says.

Your brows draw together in confusion and you watch in horror when he gets out of the car and approaches another a few feet behind and punches the driver's side glass in.

"Hoseok," you yell. You get out of the car and run after him just as he rips a man out from the other car. "Hoseok what are you doing? Stop!"

He ignores you choosing instead to interrogate the man.

"Who sent you? Why were you following me?"

You freeze in your spot. This man was following you? Wait, what?

"He was following us," you ask.

Hoseok grits his teeth. "I noticed him from the moment we left home." He directs his words to the man now. "Tell me who sent you and I won't break your arm."

"I'm sorry!" The man says. "I'm sorry it was a mistake!"

"Wrong answer."

Hoseok turns the man around slamming him into the car and twists his arm behind him. The man screams in pain.

"Wait, wait, wait! Don't do it! I'll tell you!"

Hoseok doesn't let up on his hold but he refrains from breaking the other man's arm. You're still worried though despite now knowing he'd been following you.

"Tell me." Hoseok demands.

"It was your cousin who sent me. I'm sorry!"

His cousin? He didn't mean...

Releasing him, Hoseok stands back and sends a glower at the man.

"I'll let you go," he says. "But you better tell her to back off otherwise she'd be losing her other fang."

The man vehemently nods and bows at Hoseok's feet.

"I will! I swear I will."

A sharp tsk comes from Hoseok before he snarls.

It's hard to swallow especially when your stomach twists and turns in a nervous-induced pain. It takes you a second to move but when you do you grab Hoseok's arm and tug on him.

"Hoseok let's go. Please. Before anyone sees us."

It's at the feel of your touch does his expression lessen from pure anger into one of annoyance and it's directed at the man.

"Get up and go," he says. "Before I change my mind."

The man whose side of the face you notice has scratches no doubt from the glass that shattered nods again and hurriedly stands to jump in his running car and both you and Hoseok wait until he's gone.

Your grip on Hoseok's arm is strong and it's after a moment of heavy breathing does he calm down and looks at you.

"I told you to stay in the car."

"I was scared!"

"Still."

You shake his arm. "Hoseok you punched that guy's window in without telling me what was going on. How was I supposed to react?"

He has an unreadable expression on as you continue to go off.

"You can't expect me to sit back and act like nothing was happening." You grab his hand he used to punch the glass. "Your knuckles are bruised and bleeding! Hoseok-"

Your tirade is cut short when his lips press up against your own. You let go of his hand to grip his shirt with both hands and whimper at the amount of pressure he's applying to your lips.

Pulling back Hoseok releases a breath as you release a shaky one.

"You were worried about me," he asks.

It did sure seem like that. You were more worried about the man Hoseok was willing to hurt despite knowing now that he was following you. That aside you know Hoseok would have broken his arm. When he's angry he's capable of a lot of things, but you won't say any of that. Not if you want to keep the peace so you nod.

"Yeah," you say.

His expression softens even more into a delicate smile. You look into each other's eyes without anything to say before he pulls back a little to look down at his bruised knuckles. The wounds don't look as fresh and the bruises are starting to look green. He was healing.

"You don't have to worry about me," he says.

"But still... Don't do something like that again. Please?"

Hoseok looks at you and when he sees how adamant you are he sighs yet smiles.

"Anything for you."

You find yourself smiling back and realize that pretending to fall for him comes easier than expected.

With his healing hand he rests it over your shoulder to guide you back towards the car. Once inside you sigh and lean back in the seat.

"Everything good?" Hoseok asks.

To be honest no. The man who was following you said he was doing this for Hoseok's cousin. The only person you can think of is Jiyoo because Hoseok mentioned her losing her other fang if she didn't back off. It had to be her right?

"Y/N?"

You look at him and give him a weary smile. "It's just the guy. He mentioned your cousin. Does he mean...?"

Hoseok hums. "Yeah it's her. I don't have any other cousins but her."

You frown as he begins to drive. "Why would she send someone like that after us?"

He shrugs as he takes a turn. "To be honest she's probably still pissed after everything that happened. I'm surprised she didn't send someone in sooner."

"Does she normally do things like this?"

"To stalk us?" He shakes his head. "No. Never. If she wanted information she'll go in and get it herself so this is new."

You still have a frown on your face at the mention of this. Jiyoo sending someone to spy on you guys makes you feel sick. You don't know what she's after for her to do this you just know that you don't like it one bit.

"Should we warn your brothers?"

Hoseok hums. "I will but let's have some fun first. I don't want this to ruin our time together. If anything, they're just as observant as me so if there is someone around they'll notice it."

You don't say anything as he drives a few minutes more before pulling up into a parking spot. In the distance you see people. They're everywhere and they seem to be in good spirits.

"Ready?" Hoseok asks.

You nod with a hum.

"I'm sure you'll like it so come on. Let's go."

After turning off the car he steps out with you in tow. When you meet in front of the car he grabs your hand and leads you towards the people who are going back and forth enjoying their time. Their chatter grows louder the closer you get and there's even music playing throughout the area. You don't know what to look at first so your attention flip flops between anything and everything.

Hoseok leads you on taking you to wherever his heart desires. When you notice where he's taking you your brows perk up. There are a bunch of straw bales stacked on top of each other so high you can't see where the end is. It's reminiscent of the maze back at Hoseok's and when you check the sign next to it it says 'Welcome to the Straw Bale Maze.'

"Let's go." Hoseok says with a smile. "Let's see what's at the end of this."

He drags you along until it's just the two of you together. You can hear the squealing of children as they make their way through in the distance no doubt with their parents laughing.

"To be honest," you say. "I can barely remember how to get through the maze back at yours so I doubt I'll be able to lead us out of this one."

Hoseok laughs. "Don't worry. They always switch up the maze every year so this is new to me too."

He laces your fingers together and pulls you along into walls and walls of the maze. There were times where you were making progress and other times where you couldn't help but laugh along with Hoseok as you would come to a dead end. He'd tell you that it was okay and push on until you two reached the very end where there was a grand tree that stood up tall with beautiful orange, yellow, and red leaves. Many were on the floor already scattered about and people were taking pictures beneath the tree.

You were watching a family of four posing for pictures. They would do a different face or stand in a different position than they were before until five shots later they were called over by a man in a booth. He shows them on a screen their pictures and at a nod of approval they wait until their pictures are printed out on a little strip and given to them. One for each parent.

"Come on." Hoseok says. "It's our turn."

You walk up to the tree and stand in front of it confused at what to do. Hoseok stands behind you and wraps his arms around your middle and kisses the side of your head.

"A cute couple." The man in the booth says. "Show us how cute you can get!"

"Smile." Hoseok whispers and when you do a picture is taken.

For the next pose Hoseok comes around and has you step directly in front of him - your sides facing the man. He presses his forehead against your own and you close your eyes just as he does. At the sound of the click you open your eyes and before you had a chance to properly react Hoseok kisses you. Another click. But he doesn't let up. This time he rests his hand behind your neck and leans in until your back is arched and a hand is placed there as well. You're expecting him to deepen the kiss and so you part your lips the slightest bit but the high never comes becomes he pulls back after another click.

You're a little disappointed but you try to not let it show. Of course he couldn't give you what you wanted in front of all these people. You begrudgingly accept it and you have to remind yourself that you're doing this for yourself. You're playing along with him so that when the time is right you can leave without him on your back so you do what he does and laugh like two people disgustingly in love. Click.

"Alright!" The man says. "Let's see what we got here."

Hoseok lets go of you and urges you forward with him. When you reach the booth you see the monitor and you see through the eyes of another how you and Hoseok look. You can't deny it. Hoseok is handsome. Heartbreakingly so. You never considered yourself to be ugly but standing next to him you can't help but wonder for a moment what he sees in you. The man claims you both look cute but you also wonder if he's just saying that because it's his Lord whose pictures he was taking. Either way, you say nothing as two strips of pictures are printed out like a film and handed to you both.

"Enjoy the rest of your time here." The man says and you nod at him as Hoseok smiles.

He stares at the picture lovingly before handing it to you. "Put it in your purse. I don't want to ruin it by folding it."

You take it and along with yours you place it into your bag you had with you since you went out with Yoongi. Afterwards, he grabs your hand and leads you towards the exit on the side but before you leave a young woman at the fence pulls off the tray two apples covered in peanuts and a thick brown glaze that holds them together.

"Here you go," she chirps. "Enjoy the rest of your day."

The two of you grab your respective ones and leave to join the crowd again.

"What is this," you ask.

Hoseok raises a brow at this and you're about to remind him about your sheltered former life but he just smiles.

"Candy apples. They're apples covered in caramel and peanuts. It's really good."

You give yours a sniff and you can smell how sweet it is. With a tentative bite you give it a taste before your eyes widen in surprise.

"Do you like it?"

You nod your head after having another bite. Hoseok laughs before having a bite of his own as he continues leading you to another place.

You enjoy the burst of flavor. The combination of the sweet apple and caramel with the slight salty taste of the peanuts. Neither of the three flavors are too overpowering and you find your finishing yours before Hoseok finishes his own.

When you're done you toss your sticks into a bin and head off in the direction Hoseok takes you.

The next place he takes you is to a fire pit where people are making s'mores. He asks you if you ever had it before but he isn't surprised when you say no. He explains what it consist of and so when you have it you enjoy it to the fullest.

Hoseok is taking you to enjoy many firsts. From foods, drinks, playing games like roll the pumpkin, toss the corn. He encourages you to bob for apples but you refuse. Especially since he took you to get your face painted.

The majority of people who have their face painted are children but he was adamant that you do it. To heal your inner child he said even though you don't mind the fact that you've never done these things before as a kid. The artist did a great job though and Hoseok insisted on taking a picture of the both of you to keep as memories.

To be honest, you were enjoying yourself. Even when it came to dancing. You told Hoseok no that you would not dance with him but he persuaded you. He said you didn't have to actually know how to dance. Swaying side to side was good enough so that's what you did. You swayed side to side to the soft music along with many others. Most being couples. If you noticed people had their eyes on you you didn't say. You were too busy having your eyes closed as he had his with your head resting on his chest. You could hear the faint sound of his heart beat and along with the music it lulled you into a sense of security. One you never thought you would have with Jung Hoseok himself. It's the giddiness after doing so many fun things you told yourself. Pretending to love Hoseok isn't hard but you do have to admit that you were having fun.

When the music comes to an end and something more upbeat starts you open your eyes and pull away from him. He lets you as he looks down at you and smiles.

"See," he says. "It wasn't that bad."

You give a small smile.

He takes you by the hand and walks through the crowd that formed when they noticed it was Lord Hoseok with his lovely lady. Neither of you two acknowledge it. Instead he takes you far away towards an area with round tables and chairs around them. You read the sign and see that it says 'Pumpkin Carving' and you see a little image of a jack-o-lantern staring back at you. Now this you really wanted to do. Maybe Hoseok is right about wanting to heal your inner child because this caught your attention the moment you saw it.

Hoseok pulls you along with him as you come to a barn like building that houses pumpkins upon pumpkins. Two women man the station and accept payment for the pumpkins that are chosen. Hoseok does the same and you don't miss the way the women stare at him with something in their eyes, but you know he wouldn't pay them any mind so long as he considered you the love of his life.

"Come on," he says. "Let's choose our pumpkins."

You walk into the barn and search the area for a pumpkin that catches your attention. You don't want anything too big nor too small so when you find the one you want you're quick to take it. Hoseok chooses one that's slightly bigger than yours and before coming to a table he digs out of the bucket near the front carving knives as well as a marker and rubbing alcohol and a cloth from right next to it.

Your pumpkins land with a light thud on the table you choose before you look at everyone else who's doing this. You see the way they draw on the pumpkin with a marker and from there, with the carving knives, they cut their way through. The alcohol and cloth you see is to rub away any marks left behind from the marker that were not cut away.

"You have an idea of what you want to make?" Hoseok asks.

"Honestly no. I've never done this before so doing the basic sounds good enough to me."

He smiles. "Basic is always a good choice."

You watch as he draws the face he wants before handing off the marker to you. You mimic him and choose something simple. Something you've seen in movies and TV shows. When it comes time for carving you realize what a chore it is. Cutting off the top to gut the pumpkin and leaving it bare alone is work in of itself. Hoseok is about to ask you if you've ever had roasted pumpkin seeds but stops himself. When you ask him what's up he tells you and you admit that you actually have. He's happy to know this and brings up how he'll make sure to tell the servants to have some made sometime this season.

Your hands feel gross covered in the pumpkin innards but you wipe them on the cloth once you're done. It's here now that both you and Hoseok start to cut away at the shapes you drew. It's almost a cathartic feeling. You don't know how to explain it but it just feels that way to you.

Spending time like this with Hoseok is different but nice. He sees it as doing something nice with his partner while you see it as doing something fun for yourself. Though you know you wouldn't be here right now if it weren't because of him. An annoying reminder. But there wasn't any time for those thoughts. Remember: you're supposed to pretend to fall in love with him.

With every slice and pull your jack-o-lantern is coming together. Your lines aren't the straightest but you can easily tell what it is. Hoseok's skilled hand though, as he's done this before, easily makes it come to life. When the two of you are done you sit down on the chair and stare at your pumpkin with a smile.

"You like it?"

You look up at Hoseok and nod with that same smile on your face. "It was fun."

A heart shaped smile takes over his lips as he readies the cloth and alcohol.

He wipes away the black lines left behind from what he drew and takes the time to do the same with your pumpkin. You look at him as he does this and for a moment you feel sad. Sad because now more than ever Hoseok looks like any other person just trying to do their best. A date wanting to impress. A man with emotions that claims that he cares. But that's all been ruined a long time ago. It hasn't really been that long since you've been with him but it feels like it. Every single day you've spent with him since the moment you two first met. It feels like forever ago and along with that forever comes disdain to overshadow everything. It's sad really but you can't make this better with him. Not even if you tried to actually fall in love with him. That ship has sailed a long time ago.

"There." Hoseok says.

He draws you out of your thoughts and you see that both yours and his pumpkins look clean. They smile at you and you smile back.

"We can put these in the car now and come back to do other things if you want."

You look around you to see what else you would like to do but you are hit with a chill. You have long sleeves on but nothing else to cover up with. It's starting to get dark you note and along with that comes chilly nights. It felt good out when the sun was at its highest but now not so much.

Your eyes draw over to a booth that sells funnel cakes. It's caught your attention before back when you had your face painted. So you point it out.

"How about we put the pumpkins away then we come back for that?"

You hum. "Okay."

"Okay," he says with a smile.

The two of you carry your freshly carved pumpkins back to the car. There are more cars in the lot than there were earlier and that's saying something because this place was already packed as is. Another chill hits you and you tremble a little. Your bones feel like they're trying to rattle and you have to clear your throat a little to try and pretend like the chilly night isn't bothering you. Hoseok does catch on to it though because he asks if you're okay and you shrug.

"Just a little chilly tonight but I'm fine."

His brows draw together. "Are you sure? We can leave now if you want."

"But what about the funnel cake?"

You both reach the car where you stand close to him as he unlocks it. He places both yours and his pumpkins in the back seat before closing the door. After his hands are free he turns to you and hugs you close to him.

"I don't want you to feel uncomfortable though." He kisses your forehead. "How about this: you stay in the car and I'll go get the funnel cake. Does that sound good?"

There wasn't much else you wanted to do besides get that so you nod your head.

"Good," he says. "Hop in the car then. I'll be right back."

"Wait."

He stops what he's doing and you know you're going to be laying it on thick here but you stand on your tiptoes and kiss his lips. It doesn't last for too long but it still snatches both of your breaths away. His eyes look heavy with affection and you think you see a hint of lust.

"Don't take too long, okay?"

He bites his lip to try and contain his smile. "Okay."

You let him go to hop into the car. His eyes follow after you and it's when you're safe inside does he lock the doors and heads off to get you your funnel cake.

When he's a reasonable distance away you sigh. When you get the go from Minjeong on where you'll be staying you'll finally be at peace. Even more so when you're actually gone from this stupid place.

You tongue your cheek as you look at everyone in the distance. They're so happy and unsuspecting. The devil makes his way through them and they haven't got a clue to who he really is. It's sickening really but you have to get it together. If you want to make it out you just have to.

You know what's to follow when you get back home. You'll be glued to his side and he'll more than likely want to see how far your "affection" goes. This is as new to him as it is to you. Sex and all of that is nothing new but coming from a participant who would normally fight back and now they aren't? Because they are possibly falling in love? Finally? Yeah he's going to want to explore more of this. You're not a great actress but you figure in his blind love for you that he'll overlook that. You just have to learn not to push it too much otherwise you'll look suspicious. For every step you take and every action you make you have to learn to take it easy. Take it slow because it's not like you fell for him overnight. No, it has to be like you're starting to feel something and you're slowly expressing that to him. Act self-concious over your feelings and show that to him. Maybe then he'll believe you.

You hope this plan works as best as the next. There's not much else you can figure out to do on your end besides stay quiet about everything, but you have to help in some way. You've already given up your body to Hoseok though that's a long story. What's to say you can't give it up completely? Willingly. At least for now.

You see Hoseok making his way back to the car with a plate of funnel cake with him. He looks so unsuspecting but you can't bring yourself to feel bad. Not entirely at least.

He unlocks the car and hops in, turning it on to warm things up a little before handing you the plate. You can smell the treat and take a piece off so you can taste it. You make a sound of approval making Hoseok smile.

"It's good, right?"

"Mhmm. I don't know what I expected but I like it."

He reaches over to grab a piece for himself.

You hum. "You ruined me, you know."

Hoseok looks at you with brows drawn together. "What?"

Licking your lips you swallow the food in your mouth. "I'm going to want this all the time now."

At the realization of what you meant he breaks into a smile and giggles.

"Anything for you, my love. You ask for it and I'll provide."

"Do you know how to cook," you ask.

He nods. "I do actually. Despite having servants my mother wanted to teach me. She said if for whatever reason I need to eat and no one is available then I can take care of myself." He shrugs. "Just one of many things she taught me."

"That's nice."

"Do you know how to cook?"

"I do but I never did it much. My expertise was in cleaning and taking care of the garden so despite being taught how to I never really cooked."

Hoseok leans back a bit to look at you but he does so with a small smile. "Well I can always cook for you. For us. I don't mind."

You smile back at him though it's a little awkward.

He continues to stare and lets you finish off the funnel cake. You offered it to him but he said no. That he was fine. The staring is unnerving though and so when you shift your eyes towards him you give a look of discomfort.

"Are you going to keep staring at me?"

Hoseok chuckles. "Sorry it's just... Nevermind."

You bring the plate down to your lap and frown. "Tell me."

He shakes his head. "It's nothing major. It's just that you look beautiful and I wonder how I got so lucky in having you to myself."

There he goes. Saying sweet nothings you can't relate to. But you push that aside. You have a role to play.

You look off towards the side bashful and mumble "I could say the same thing."

He heard it and you imagine it makes his heart flutter because his hand comes up to the back of your neck and he pulls you in for a kiss.

You're careful to not let the crumbs on the plate fall over onto the floor but you reciprocate the kiss. Your lips slotting perfectly with each other. You want to deepen it but Hoseok pulls back leaving you disappointed once again today because it's like he's dangling the high above your head.

He smiles at you. "You taste like funnel cake."

You laugh. "Yeah I wonder why."

He chuckles and leans back to extend his hand towards you. "You done?"

You hum in agreement and watch as he grabs the empty plate and leaves to toss it out.

You relax your shoulders. You don't know when you grew so tense but you have to change that. The idea of that makes you sigh.

You started this, you think. Might as well see it to the end.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

[Text: Tell me, what do you think of people actually liking the character development in season 4-5 and the show's treatment of mental health? [Redacted] thinks that and she's the mother of a teenager]

Re liking the show: I generally assume that they have poor taste and/or media literacy.

Re the mental health rep: I generally assume that they're incredibly privileged and/or ignorant.

I'm posting this as an image and not an ask response specifically because I will not participate in fandom drama or shaming. This blog exists specifically so that people can actively choose to engage in my content and so that I can post critical thoughts without dragging their source into some petty fight. So I'm not going to talk about the named individual. Instead, I'll replace them with the show's head writer and talk about him in a similar context.*

He's pretty famously denied that Chloe suffered any abuse, ignoring her obvious neglect, which came from both parents, just in different forms. When you pair that with how the show handles people like Gabe and Jagged Stone, we see a clear pattern of the show ignoring the devastating effects that abandonment and neglect can have on a person, especially if they're a child.

Now you could look at that and say, "The head writer condones abuse! He's a monster!" But I prefer to go the more likely route and assume that he's a privileged middle-class cis white man who has never had to deal with those issues or support someone who has, so he has no idea how to handle them properly or that they even need to be properly handled. There's every chance that he's a loving, kind man and a fantastic father who just happens to not be very good at writing a complex topic that he clearly has no understanding of or desire to learn about. I apply similar logic to fans who share his opinions. Never attribute to malice what can be explained by incompetence or ignorance.

And all of the above is assuming that we're talking about someone who thinks that the show is objectively good or that the mental health rep is good, which are big assumptions. It's fully possible to enjoy a piece of media that you know is objectively bad or even "problematic" in some way.

Personal confession time: is Loonatics Unleashed an objectively terrible show that you should never, ever watch? Absolutely. 100%. Are Rev Runner and Tech E. Coyote two of my favorite characters who will live rent free in my head until the day I die? Yep! I pulled up a YouTube highlight real as I was writing this and those dorks still make me smile even though the show is terrible on multiple levels and I know that I'm not alone in that sentiment. Those two clicked with a lot of people for some reason.

A piece of fiction need not be good for you to love it and you don't need to justify your love for a piece of fiction if you're not claiming that it's good. Similarly, people hating that piece of fiction or pointing out flaws in it is not a reflection on you in any way shape or form. You can even agree with their criticism and still love the piece of fiction. This approach to media - loving a thing in spite of its flaws - is normal and healthy and I'd really love to see it make a comeback in younger fandoms.

Like, I cannot emphasize this enough, most fandoms consider it perfectly normal to have lots of fans who are critical of the source or who have even lost interest in the source for one reason or another, but they still like some element of the source enough to want to create/consume fan content for it. These more critical fans arguably make some of the best fan content because looking at canon and saying "That's nice, let me show you how I'd do it" often leads to some of the most complex stories that you'll see in fandom spaces. Stories that can often blow canon out of the water for TV shows and movies since fanfic isn't limited by budgets or studio policies or marketability concerns. Fans who think that the source is perfect tend to just write fluff or romcom type fics, which is not a dig! I love bother of those genres! But woman does not live on fluff alone.

Obviously there's some complexity here because who decides if a show is bad? Saying "it's okay that you like a terrible thing" can certainly sound like an insult and prompt a feeling of needing to defend the thing, which is why I don't fight with fans who like the show. There's really no need to convince them that the thing they like is bad. Do I think it is? Yes. Does it matter if they disagree? No, not really. At worst, they create stories with similar issues and, well, they're not the only ones and fighting with them isn't going to stop them. You're much better off focusing on creating your own good media and trying to get that popular. Heck, even if you made the head writer see all of Miracuous' flaws, it wouldn't change anything. The show is already made.

So, yeah, I don't really assume anything bad about people who think that miraculous is good. I know lots of wonderful people who have terrible taste in media and I'm still friends with them. I just don't take recommendations from them.

It's important to remember that, when you're online in a fandom space, a person is condensed down to a very tiny snapshot of who they are and judging a person solely off of their thoughts regarding a poorly written kids show is a dangerous path to tread. Like, looking at this blog, you might assume that I spend all of my time thinking about miraculous and obsessing over its flaws, which is very much not the case. I actually have this blog specifically so that I don't obsess over miraculous' flaws because I've found that, when something is bothering me, writing it down or talking to someone about it is the best way to stop thinking about it. Even then, most of my posts are reblogs of stuff I come across while browsing my tumblr feed, which is not solely miraculous content. I mostly interact with the show by creating non-salty fanfic that I honestly enjoy writing and find to be a relaxing, positive outlet.

It's human nature to judge and it's totally normal to think that a person's an idiot because of something they post online, but be careful to not lean into those thoughts too hard. At the end of the day, Miraculous is just a stupid kids show that will fade from the popular consciousness a few years after it stops airing. If it and/or the fandom are negatively affecting your mental health, then it's okay to step away for a while or use the block button. It really is your best friend. I enjoy being critical about Miraculous specifically because it's not that important. While I do think that kids deserve better media, I don't think Miraculous is some terrible evil harming the youth. I'm not horrified when a kid watches it, it's just not a show that I'd encourage them to watch and, if the kids was close to me, we'd spend a lot of time talking about the bad things that the show showcases from time to time. There are lots of episodes that are fine and I can think of way worse kids shows. Shows that tell their horrifying morals really well, making a kid far more likely to pick up on them and internalize them.

*Note that I only feel comfortable talking about the head writer like this because he's a public figure with an active social media presence AND because I'm not @ing him. If he was a private person or if he was not a professional creator, then I would not talk about him like this and even in that context I try to avoid it whenever I can. You can think that he's a terrible writer, but he's still a human being and, as far as I'm aware, nothing he's done deserves people harassing him.

I absolutely understand how devastating it can be to see a story you love get ruined by the creative team. The first time that happened to me, the life lesson I came away with was, "I will no longer put my happiness in the hands of another creator. I will enjoy stories, but I will temper my expectations and remember that they're just another human being and it's completely possible that their vision for this seemingly awesome story may end up being terrible."

[braveclementine]

Chapter 26

Warnings: None

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own a few OCs like Elizabeth, Katherine, Stacy, and Jessie. I do not condone any copying of this.

T'Challa introduced you to the people of Wakanda as his one and only beloved soulmate. You didn't have to speak, just standing by his side, holding his arm as he spoke. After the speech, he took you out of the city to see more of the countryside of Wakanda.

He brought you down to where the pastures were, where the farmers out here tamed White Rhinos for war. They also took care of goats.

T'Challa showed you the small hut by the water that Bucky had stayed in once. He had his own little fenced in area that still had two goats in it, the little kids that lived out here tending to his goat until he came back.

"What are their names?" You asked, petting one of the milk goats across her head. She let out a tiny bleat before wandering over to the water trough, lapping it up.

"This one is Samantha and the other one is Stella." T'Challa said, pointing to each individual goat, only able to tell apart the difference of their brown and white coats by the pink ribbon around Samantha's tail and the green one around Stella's.

You giggled. "So they're the goat versions of Sam and Steve?"

T'Challa laughed as well. "I suppose that's one way of looking at them."

The next week was fun as well. Wakanda was much larger than everyone had ever expected. You visited the forests and jungles. There were beautiful lakes that T'Challa took you too, the two of you skinny dipping as they were empty.

There were open plains and wide fields of flowers. The inner city was fun to explore as well. There were so many people there, the culture so vibrantly different from anything you had ever experienced.

You enjoyed checking out all of the stalls, even if you didn't always buy something. The young village kids seemed to absolutely adore you for some reason, always giving you flowers or small presents that were homemade.

T'Challa always just beamed from your side. You were sure that he was happy with how receptive the people were of you. Though you didn't always speak Wakandan (Xhosa), T'Challa would usually translate for you. Words of praise and your beauty or kindness were usually what they were. Or sometimes saying how they were glad that their King had found such a worthy soulmate.

Inside the palace was another story. Perhaps it was just simply because it was air-conditioned, but it just felt much colder there. Shuri, Queen Ramonda, and Okoye were all very nice, and a few of T'Challa's friends and the elders were just as nice, but the Dora Milaje seemed very cold towards you.

But you were probably making it up. Okoye always seemed colder whenever she was doing her royal duties as well. Shuri always liked to make jokes with it.

"When are the others getting here again?" You asked, holding T'Challa's hand as the two of you walked around the palace gardens. They had several exotic flowers that couldn't be found anywhere else in the world. They were very special here and you absolutely loved them.

"The morning of the wedding ceremony. They're chasing a HYDRA lead I think." T'Challa said with a sigh.

"HYDRA again?" You frowned. "They really do take after the mythical creature."

T'Challa chuckled. "From what we can tell though, they are much weaker than they were when they had Bucky. Without their winter soldiers, it is very hard for them to operate. Especially since Fury has been alerted to their presence."

You nodded, leaning your head on his shoulder before you pointed to one of the large red and green flowers that looked almost tie-dyed. "What is this one called?"

"Lintyatyambo Zevatala." T'Challa answered.

"I think they're my favorites." You said, looking up at him, "Besides, you know, the lovely purple flowers that give you your powers. Those are pretty too."

T'Challa smiled down at you, putting his arm over your shoulder. "Yes, I like these too. A personal favorite I think. Shuri likes those the most though." He pointed out a pair of strange looking flowers that were weaving together, moving slightly by themselves.

"What are they?" You asked, watching as the orange and blue blossoms on the plant opened and closed like they were regrowing.

"Linzwakazi Eziyingozi" T'Challa said. "They're poisonous, so don't get to close to them. They're kind've like. . . Venus fly traps? But more animal than plant, really. Shuri has found a way to take their poisonous properties and make it a temporary Cancer cure. However, it doesn't always work. It depends on blood type, height, weight, other minor health ailments, etc. Sometimes it can do more harm than good so she is reluctant to use it unless as a last resort. However, she is still trying to come up with a perfect cure."

"Wow, that's wonderful! I thought she only worked in technology." You said as T'Challa led you out of the gardens. The sun was starting to set. The two of you would probably eat and then head off to bed where you'd fool around for an hour or two and then fall asleep in each others embrace.

"Well, I think medicine is a type of technology, if you look at it the right way." T'Challa answered.

"It's not a vaccine?" You asked.

"Vaccines don't cure anything." T'Challa said with a shake of his head. "They are only temporary, often meaning that you have to get them over and over to get rid of an illness. They are more. . . preventive than an actual cure. And sometimes ineffective. Her cure would be forever-lasting and would stop the Cancer already growing. If she were to create a vaccine, it would be meant to stop cancer before it even gets to her. Not to mention, Cancer isn't spread through the air so a vaccine is illogical."

You nodded your head, committing everything he said to memory.

"We don't even have vaccines here in Wakanda." T'Challa said with a shrug of his shoulders. "They are unnecessary, we very rarely get sick."

That made sense to you. Why have something if you never needed it? Plus the cure and the cancer also made sense to you.

"Anyways," T'Challa continued as you both headed to the dining hall to eat with the rest of the royal family, "I look forward to seeing Shuri complete the cure."

"Yes, as do I." You responded. It would be very exciting when a cure for cancer was finally made.

"You do what?" Shuri asked as the two of you entered the room. Dinner was already on the table in large pots and dishes, spoons and serving utensils sitting there, just waiting to be used. You could spot several African delicacies as well as a few of your favorite American dishes.

"Hope you finish your Cancer cure successfully." You answered as T'Challa pulled your chair out. You sat down, scooting yourself in while T'Challa sat next to you.

"You told her?!" Shuri complained to T'Challa.

"I think it's fascinating." You said quickly.

"Yeah, but it's not going well!" Shuri complained and then quickly said, "Did you know that up until this point, he still slept with a stuffed animal?"

"Oi!" T'Challa protested, "What was that for?"

You giggled as Shuri said, "You told her one of my secrets, so I told her one of yours."

"But why is mine so embarrassing?"

"You're whining like a brat."

"Children, children." Queen Ramonda said in a patronizing tone, though there was a small smile on her lips. "You're going to make Y/N think you're both eight years old."

"Well he is."

"Well she is."

You giggled again.

Queen Ramonda making a tsking sound. "Y/N, behold the King of Wakanda."

"Hey! You two are ganging up on me!" T'Challa protested, pointing fingers at the both of them with a mock frown on his face.

You smiled, "It's adorable. I love watching your family interact."

T'Challa's face softened and he kissed you on the cheek.

After dessert, T'Challa and you headed back up to your bedroom. You were both practically running by the time you were on the floor his bedroom resided on. T'Challa locked the doors behind the both of you, the two of you disappearing into the sheets.

***

Two days before the special wedding ceremony, you were sitting on his bed, making out with him. His back was to his door and you were sitting in his lap, your legs wrapped loosely around his waist. Your hands and his were delved into each others' hair. Your lips were meshed together in a passionate kiss.

You groaned as you broke away for air. He didn't seem to need his, his lips automatically attaching themselves to your throat.

"Brother!" T'Challa groaned, pulling away from me. Peering over his shoulder, I saw Shuri in the hologram, arms crossed over her chest.

"Yes, my annoying sister who interrupts me at the most inconvenient times?" T'Challa sighed.

"Sorry, but apparently the elders are waiting for you down in the council room." Shuri sighed. "There's been some update and they need you for your wise input. So hurry up." She blanked out, leaving the hologram table empty again.

You smiled at T'Challa, pulling away to start sliding under the covers. "It's fine T. I'm pretty tired anyways. I'll probably be asleep by the time you get back. Have fun. . . doing business?"

He chuckled, sliding out of the bed, fixing his robes, kissing the top of your head and finding his shoes to slip on. "I'll try. It'll be worse than being here with you though."

"Naturally." You teased, winking.

He chuckled as he left the room.

You dimmed the lights, wrapping the thin sheet around you. You had left the wide doors open, letting in the warm African breeze. It wasn't to warm, especially as it was night and got cooler, but it wasn't to cold either. Paired with the thin sheets, you were rather content where temperature was concerned.

You could hear several people moving around outside- and down in the city as it started to close up- listening to the sounds of the life around you.

You wrapped one arm around the pillow underneath your head. You couldn't wait. Two more days and all of your favorite people would be here, celebrating you and T'Challa being together as a royal couple. You wondered how long it would take before the news got ahold of the information.

You smirked a little, knowing how annoyed you would be. You hated being on the news.

And you loved being here with T'Challa. He was kind, brave, funny, charismatic, sincere, and affectionate. He could also be serious and extremely protective, though loving. Not to mention bloody handsome.

But you did miss your other mates. Missed Sam and Clint's teasing, missed Fury and Rhodeys' seriousness. Tony's joking manner. Stephen's always half-amused, half-annoyed state. You missed your soldiers and your gods. You wanted all of them around you and didn't really like being with just one of them for extended periods of time.

You smiled, imaging them coming off the quinjet, wondering whose arms you'd run to first.

Probably whoever came off the jet first. Probably Bucky as he loved this country. Maybe Loki or Thor. Maybe even Rhodey, he had been here before.

You heard something whooshing through the air, though it didn't sound very near. You rolled over in bed, just as you felt something scrape along your back.

Your eyes popped open at the pain.

Snake!

[strang3lov3]

Hi Bug!

I just thought I’d show up unannounced and uninvited to talk about QZ Roman Roy. I really like QZ Roman. He’s a real sonofabitch and he’s so nasty. I’m into it. I’m not proud of myself, Bug, but I’m not ashamed. I want him to catch me making qz hooch. Anyway, how do you think the rest of the Roy family fared during and after outbreak?

I’m right there with you, Bat. I don’t condone it, but I do understand it. We are who we are 😔 down bad for pitiful, off putting creeps.

Hmm. This has been on my mind all day. Let’s go through it.

Shiv

Shiv gets bitten. There’s really not much to the story, but this is what’s best for her. See, hatred has no place in the infected community. Everyone is united by a common goal and works together to spread the infection. There is no hierarchy, no competition, and in this space, Shiv can finally allow herself to trust others. She makes a really good clicker eventually.

Kendall

Kendall comes really close to surviving the outbreak. He and Shiv share a safe room, but Shiv is infected and doesn’t tell anyone. Bitten on the leg, infection hasn’t quite set in yet. When she gets a notification on her phone that Kendall tweeted something like “We’re in this together. Stay strong, stay safe. #outbreakday #cancelcordyceps” she bites him. She doesn’t think he deserves to survive.

Roman

Roman survives Outbreak Day. He ends up in the Boston QZ and can’t stand the idea of holding no power there, so he joins FEDRA. Working for FEDRA allows him to feel big and satisfies his craving to bully and harass people. He becomes FEDRA’s resident pervert.

Greg

Greg eats moldy bread at lunch on Outbreak Day. He spits it out in disgust, and then buys new bread for the break room. He’s doing everything he can to get those Waystar brownie points. When people start biting and tainted flour is revealed to be the cause of the outbreak, Greg is convinced he’s going to be infected because he ate moldy bread. However, while moldy, the bread he ate was not tainted by cordyceps, but the new bread he bought for the break room is. Greg is responsible for many Waystar cordyceps infections.

Tom

Tom survives Outbreak Day. Like during the shooting, he and Greg end up in the less-than-safe safe room. Greg confesses what happened in the break room, and Tom commends him for it. The Disgusting Brothers partner up and live a self-sustaining life alone together outside of the QZ, sort of like Bill and Frank, but worse.

Logan

Logan escapes the outbreak by private jet. However, on the jet, he eats tainted food and becomes infected himself. When the infection sets in, he attacks his pilot, and they crash land. Logan survives this and lasts long enough as an infected to become a bloater.

Connor

In the show, cordyceps adapted to survive in the human body because of rising temperatures. Connor doesn’t believe in climate change, so he doesn’t believe cordyceps is infecting humans. For those first couple days as whispers of the outbreak begin to spread, Connor thinks it’s all bullshit. Despite this, he survives the first day and long after. When shit hits the fan, he hides in his well-stocked underground bunker on his remote ranch with Willa and works on developing a cure. This is her worst nightmare and she daydreams about getting bitten.