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giorno-plays-piano · 9 months

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The Lovers That Went Wrong

Pairing: psycho!Aemond Targaryen x reader

Warnings: soft!yandere, kidnapping, threats, non-consensual confinement, manipulation, allusion to noncon, hurt/comfort.

Words: 2.4k

Summary: You flinch involuntarily as you watch him open the door to your room and take a cautious step inside as if he's keeping a dangerous animal as a pet, not a whole other human being. His eyes light up at the sight of you immediately when he sees you at the very same spot where he left you in the morning, still chained, no signs of misbehaving like throwing things around and destroying the furniture. You're not the type.

P.S. Our reader is safe and sound, no physical harm whatsoever.

P.P.S. It's not me, it's those yandere ASMRs on Youtube!

_________

He's here.

You've heard the key turning in the lock. Then, one more key in one more lock. Finally, the third lock has been opened, and then he goes to unlatch the second door before you hear him step inside, carrying something.

Is he going to kill you today?

Trying not to move, you take a shaky breath, eyes on the door. He's going to come in any second, and you don't know how to act to keep him happy. Is there a way to keep someone like him content at all? He's... not normal, that's for sure. Even if you smile and pretend to be fine, chained to his bed with so little room to move left you can't even reach the door, you think he'll see right through it and become angry at you for lying.

Not that ignoring or, god, getting angry at him gonna work either. If anything, making him mad at you is probably the most stupid option you can choose. So you don't. Albeit you wouldn't have the courage for that even if it did change anything for the better.

"I'm home."

You flinch involuntarily as you watch him open the door to your room and take a cautious step inside as if he's keeping a dangerous animal as a pet, not a whole other human being. His eyes light up at the sight of you immediately when he sees you at the very same spot where he left you in the morning, still chained, no signs of misbehaving like throwing things around and destroying the furniture. You're not the type. You're the type to sit and shake in the corner and cry till you feel like your head will explode.

"Hello," you murmur quietly, showing neither anger nor happiness at his return. Keeping the most neutral expression at times when you feel like a rabbit in front of a snake is torture, but better this than having him turn psychotic again.

He smiles at you, exhaling loudly like he was worried you'd start messing things up in his absence. "I see you've been good. That's nice. Thank you."

Nodding, you make yourself eat your words about all anxiety and fear you've had to endure today just to stay sane and stop crying. Being good, huh? Does he have any idea what it feels like to be locked in an apartment of someone who threatened to kill your classmates if you didn't go with him? What it felt like when he had pulled out a knife out of his backpack with a manic gleam right in front of your face and said he needed you to come with him if you didn't want anyone hurt?

You still don't understand how everything happened out of the blue. Aemond... never seemed unstable. He was quiet, sure, and he didn't hang out with other classmates much, but neither did you. He often sat at the back of the classroom, listening to professors with a blank look on his face, and seemed to slack off, then somehow miraculously pass the exams. You've never seen him doing anything special like playing sports or taking part in any university activity. He was just a quiet loner who didn't seem to enjoy studying. At one point, you thought he would drop out or change his major, but he didn't. After more than 3 years, he was still there, at the back of the classroom, sitting with a blank expression as the professors preached about the importance of the thesis for your successfull graduation and future work life.

Then, one day, he just walked up to you after the last lesson had finished while you were gathering your stuff and asked you to stay behind for a short talk. He said he needed to tell you something important. Considering you had spoken maybe five words to him throughout the whole year, you had no clue what he wanted to say, but maybe he needed help or something? You have always been good at studying, so, perhaps, he just needed your advice on his thesis.

He didn't.

Instead, he confessed he liked you and that he was concerned you were going to date someone else from your class - he gave you names of several students you had never even hanged out with - and then he pulled a huge, sharp knife out of his backpack. When you panicked, he grabbed your hand and whispered with that crazed look on his face that he would go and stab your classmates hanging out in the hallway if you didn't go with him.

So you did. You let him take you away, shaking at the thought that he put a knife in the large sewn-in picket inside his heavy bomber, ready to take it the moment you went back on your promise. He was going to stab someone, wasn't he? Given his height and strength, he might have even murdered someone. All because you refused to go with him.

When you think of it now, you wonder what would have happened if you attracted the attention of someone's on the way. Would Aemond really stab them with a knife, given the psychotic state he was in? Would he put a knife through your stomach? Or was it just bluff, and he'd drop the knife and run away, never to bother you again?

You'll never know now. You were so concerned about someone getting hurt you ended up in the apartment of a psychopath with your leg chained to his bed. It seems surreal, like it's all one big prank that's been going for far too long.

"I'm sorry it took me so long," he says, placing a plastic bag with what smells like pasta or lasagna on a little table next to the door. "Work has been hectic, but I'm cutting down my hours to spend more time with you, so you don't have to worry."

You nod, trying not to tremble like a leaf. Spending more time with you? Great. He will kill you soon once he has enough. Don't this kind of guys always do that? They catch their prey, have fun, and then finish them off only to fixate on somebody else again.

That's what's going to happen to you.

"I'll go take a shower real quick, alright?" He asks as if your opinion actually matters, walking by the bed as you instantly move further away on the floor, your back bumping against the bed.

He pauses, turning to you fully as you bite down on your tongue not to let out a sound.

"What is it, baby?" He coos, getting down to you while you stare at your knees, afraid to lift your head and see him staring you in the face. "What happened?"

You flinch as he stretches his hand to you, and he has to pause for a second again before his palm gently lands on the top of your head. He doesn't beat you. Or, well, not yet. Despite him not hurting you within the two days you've been here, you expect him to get violent at one point. Psychos always are, right?

You mumble, worried you'll make him upset, "I'm sorry. It's nothing."

He sighs, to your horror, sitting down right in front of you. He smells like coffee and French fries, and you bite down on your lower lip, remembering he works at some café. Like other people, he has a life outside of this stuffy and yet nearly empty apartment, and in this moment, it seems so strange. That someone like him smells like another human being.

"Are you scared?" He asks in a hushed voice, careful and calm like some sort of therapist. "Is that it?"

Despite all your attempts, you feel like you will cry if he touches you again. Your throat is tight, and you can't speak, so you just nod again, head bowed so you can't see his face.

He sighs again, and you hear him shifting, crawling closer to you like a spider as you squeeze your eyes shut. Will he hit you? Rape you? Do something worse? It's only logical to suppose that. In the end, that's what they do in the movies, don't they? Since Aemond is clearly insane, that's what he'll do to you.

But then, when he sits next to you with his back pressed against the bed's leg, you feel his hands on your shoulder nudging you tenderly towards him, and you don't fight him when he makes you put your head on his chest. Today he wears a long, soft black hoodie that smells like fries, too. It's nice to the touch.

"It's alright," he whispers, making you lean onto him until you are nearly on top of him while he caresses your head. "I know it's sudden for you. You probably don't even know who I am, and then I just come and confess to you like that. It's unfair, I know. I'm sorry I couldn't wait a bit longer."

Yeah, as if it's the problem.

But you don't say anything, eyes closed, as you freeze against his hoodie.

"But, you know, it got so much better. Today a customer splashed me with coffee and sad some really hurtful things, and I didn't even care," you can nearly sense him greening before he drops a quick kiss to the top of your head. "Because I was thinking of you. Waiting for me home, sleeping in my bed, wearing my clothes. I don't remember when anyone last waited me home, you know? And now there's you."

You feel his breath on your skin before he leaves a chaste kiss on your brow, and you curl into yourself even more.

"Thank you for being here with me. I know it wasn't easy for you to trust me, but you still did." He exhales slowly, probably tired after the day in the university and at work, his other hand resting on your back, caressing you through the thick tissue of his dark green sweatshirt he gave you this morning. "Thank you."

You're glad he can't see your face because you are ready to cry any second now. You are scared, and your legs hurt from staying in this position for too long, but Aemond's touch is still comforting, and you yearn someone's body warmth just to ground yourself in this moment to keep you sane.

You are so, so tired. You don't want to die. You want to believe the things he said, the promises he made to you, but he's mad, and so are you if you really want to trust him.

Minutes fly by. You have no idea how much time you spend in his arms, but Aemond seems content, arms still wrapped around you. What is he thinking now? What does he want to do to you? He didn't force himself on you yesterday, but he can tonight. It's just a matter of time, really. And when he finds it's enough, what's gonna happen then?

"Please, don't kill me," you mutter quietly in his chest, eyes squeezed shut.

Your voice startles him awake. Apparently, he was almost lulled to sleep, and now he bends his head towards you again, taking your face in his palms to make you look at him. "What was that? Baby?"

It's torture to open your eyes when his face is inches away from yours, but you do, and then you cry. "Please, don't kill me."

The next second, he opens his pretty blue eyes wide as if you've just slapped him, discomfort clear on his pretty face. What? Is he unhappy you ruined his idyllic evening? Why does he look at you so distressed?

He puts some distance between you two, hands on your shoulders while he looks at you as you're sniffing, tears running down your face. You can't stand it. How long do you have to play his sweetheart before he cuts you in pieces and puts your remains in black plastic bags to dump somewhere deserted? Will he kill you quickly? Will he taunt you and mock you for not even looking at him at university? Will he try to prolong your suffering with drugs?

He shakes when he starts to speak, "I've never wanted to kill you. Never. Why would you think that?"

You let out a laugh at that, hands grasping his black hoodie you like so much. Why would you think a guy who threatened to kill your classmates wouldn't cut you in pieces, too? You have been chained to his bed for two days. It's nice to still be able to go to the bathroom, but that's about it. You have only a couple of books he brought for you to keep you company when he's gone, and god knows how long it's all going to last.

His grip on you gets tighter. "I swear I've never wanted to hurt you. Why did you think that? It's the knife thing yesterday, right? You got scared because I said I'm gonna cut Josh and Matteo." He gets more frantic, and you feel like you're struggling to breathe. "But I wouldn't do that to you. No! I swear. I've never wanted to make you feel bad. And the chain... I-I'm sorry about the chain and everything, but I wasn't going to keep you like this forever! It's... it's just for a couple of months, you know? So you get to know me better. I'm never going to hurt you! You're not my pet to discipline you or something. You're... "

He realizes the state he's in and makes himself stop, lips pressed tightly as he waits, regaining his composure as he's awkwardly trying to wipe away your tears with his sleeve.

Making some small soft noises, he sighs again, rubbing the back of his neck before he's ready to speak. God, why do you want to believe him so badly? Why would anything he say make any sense at all? Why are you hoping he really won't do anything when you have just been kidnapped and imprisoned in his home?

When he speaks again, his soothing voice makes you want to hide your face in his hoodie despite all the things he's done. "I really, really like you, baby. I know it's not much, but it's true. You never have to worry about getting hurt again as long as you're with me. It's a promise."

He coos at you, craddling you in his lap, and you have no strength left to do anything but lean closer to him and hide your face in his soft hoodie.

__________

Tags: @heavenly1927 @yazzzmints @devils-blackrose @lost-and-founds @kennafild @toodlesxcuddles @shygardengalaxy

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #yandere #ewan nation #hotd #house of the dragon #the house of the dragon

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thefiery-phoenix · 2 months

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YANDERE FATGUM HEADCANONS

Have you SEEN how RIPPED this guy can be? One teensy little slip up, he will not hesitate to take severe and drastic measures for making you behave. Don't get fooled by his looks, and like people say, don't judge a book by its cover. Despite his innocent and harmless friendly side towards you, if you drive him over the edge, or if he's interacting with his rival, he WILL reveal his scary dark side

This guy is delusional and possessive as a yandere. He has the image of you both happily married and you having his kids in his head and thinks you both were DESTINED to be with each other. Everytime you praise him for something or compliment him, it's just going to add up to MORE of his deluded fantasies

He's also going to be very overprotective of you since he views you as a tiny defenseless kitten that needs to be protected. He won't do anything that'll make you uncomfortable, in fact, he is very well aware that his feelings for you weren't normal at all, but, he'll still kidnap you. He'll give you as much time as you want to adjust to your new lifestyle since he understands you'll be frightened and scared

He won't force himself upon you but sometimes, once in a while, he WILL demand cuddles from you. That's IT. And maybe some light forehead kisses. Nothing more, nothing less, PERIODT. He won't keep you tied up and all that. He'll just place a quirk cancelling cuff on your ankle and he'll let you roam around the house whenever you want

He's the 'I'm sadistic with others and not with you' type of yandere. At least, that's what I think. With you, he'll behave like an obsessed love-struck puppy that'll look like a KICKED puppy when you don't return his affections but with the others, he'll be the living entity of HELL himself and frankly, this man is scary when he's angry

He'll take his time torturing his rivals and his enemies. He just wants you to be safe and feel protected by him. And of course, like every other yandere, he's afraid of losing you and someone trying to steal you away

Speaking of him cuddling you, you're so tiny compared to him that his entire hand almost covers your whole stomach as he clutches you to his chest in a bone crushing embrace. But, don't worry, he'll give you space to breathe. But you still can't help get the feeling of him snapping your neck in half like a twig if you do something wrong though he promised he won't lay even a finger on you. This guy drinks his respect women juice and even DROWNS in it. He's a very gentlemanly guy

If you act up, his face will quickly darken, but he'll just hold your wrists to his chest till he gets you to stop wriggling and behaving badly and THEN, he'll smother you in MORE affection because he feels the reason you're acting up was because he wasn't giving you enough attention

A request, don't talk about other people too frequently while you're with him unless you want hear about their 'accidental' deaths the next day on the news channel. He's the type of yandere who DESPISES and HATES it when you speak about other people and when you think of them. Why can't you just focus only on HIM? Those attention seeking rascals don't deserve to even LOOK at you. So. he'll just his connections and his influence as a pro hero and hire some people to kill that person to make it look like an accident

Will never insult you. He'll just scold you gently like some naughty toddler. Overall, he's not that bad of a yandere to you but trust me, you don't want to see his dark side.....

''My sweet little dumpling, I wonder how we'll look together when we have a family of our own. It'll be splendid won't it?''

#yandere bnha #yandere bnha x reader #yandere fatgum #yandere fatgum x reader #yandere fatgum headcanons #yandere fatgum imagines #yandere fatgum oneshots #yandere fatgum scenarios #yandere taishiro toyomitsu #yandere taishiro toyomitsu x reader

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jewish-vents · 2 months

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'bout a month and a half ago I sent in a rant about how scared every Jewish person has been since 10/7, since "the world stopped pretending it cared about us" well I'm done being scared. Now I'm just fucking angry. I'm angry that people think we deserve this. I'm angry that people are spreading misinformation on purpose. I'm angry that I can't do anything except pray that things will turn out okay. I'm angry that they get to march in the streets and I'm forced to stay inside so I don't get stabbed. I'm angry that they get to scream in my face how I'm a "colonizer, genocide supporter, kill babies for fun" and I'm forced to stay quiet so that I don't get killed. I'm angry that they get to shut down bridges, airports, disrupt society, riot, be violent and everyone calls it activism. But if any Jew dares to ask that our family be released from their torturous kidnappers we're jumped on. I'm angry that Jews are celebrated for 'refuting their Jewishness' but to denounce Hamas is something none of these people can seem to do. I'm angry that nobody fucking cares.

I wish I could punch someone and call it 'activism'. I wish I could march in the streets begging for my family to be saved. I wish I could scream in the faces of the people who hang "rape is a valid form of resistance" posters. I wish I could do anything. but I can't even tell my classmates and coworkers why I'm not coming in on April 22nd, I can't explain why I can't answer an email on Saturday.

Thank you for reaching out again!

You know, it was quite cathartic to read your vent. I too feel angry, many of us do. And anger can be a scary emotion to have, especially when society tries telling us we're not allowed to feel it. But you are. Feel that anger, talk to it, understand it. It comes from a place of deep pain and betrayal, and like any other emotion it is not only valid but important. Hold your anger like it's a child and say what you wish people would say to you. Ask it things like "why do you feel angry? What do you want to tell me? For how long do you need to feel angry? How can I help you feel better when you're ready to feel better?". Within what's safe for you and others, don't shy away from your anger. If you need some ideas of ways to cope with that anger, to express it in healthy ways or to calm down, don't be afraid to reach out and ask.

Also important, don't let only anger exist. Remember to hold space for other emotions.

Stay safe, and honestly get rightfully angry once in a while

- 🐺

#jewish vents #antisemitism #leftist antisemitism #jumblr #antisemitism on tumblr #i/p #october 7 #mental health #anger #coping

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funnyscienceman · 9 months

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listen listen listen listen. i am never going to get over singed & viktor. CAN YOU IMAGINE THE MENTAL ANGUISH. THE MESS OF EMOTIONS VIKTOR HAS TO DEAL WITH. he's so steadfast with his morals and ideals. hextech must not be weaponized. dangerous science is fine as long as the only person at risk of getting hurt is me. the moment it kills someone else he's fucking BROKEN by it and just throws in the gd towel. YET SINGED WAS THE ONE WHO TAUGHT HIM. like just. imagine, ok. imagine— take the premise that singed & viktor were actually pretty close. viktor was lonely as a kid, but he found company in rio. in singed. singed provides a space and opportunity for viktor to do his science stuff. "we can be loners together." here's someone he probably has a decent amount of affection and respect for, maybe even admires like a kid would a mentor/role model/parental figure. and he hurts rio. and viktor doesn't understand, he can't reconcile this. "we can be loners together," but also, "you did this?" viktor's got like a whole slew of emotions to deal with. What the fuck? How could you? I hate you. But also, "I told you, I was consulting a friend about our quandary."

"You built this? Why aren't you playing with the others?"

"We can be loners together."

Like just what are you supposed to do when someone who provided for you — who took care of you, who looked after you as a kid — hurts someone? Someone that you care about? What the FUCK are you supposed to when that person is willing to torture and kill for science — something that you are also passionate about, the very thing you both found commonality in, bonded over — and does it all without even a hint of remorse? What are you supposed to think?

Are you allowed to find comfort and safety in that person anymore? Can you still have good memories about them, and look back at them fondly? Can you be thankful for all the good that person's done for you?

What does it say about you, if they're the one who influenced you so much so early in your life, and here they are now?

Viktor gets Sky killed, and can you imagine what must've been running through his head? I'm no better than him. I'm turning out just like him. I am just like him. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

AND IT'S JUST.

AAGGHH!!!

#sorry this is so disjointed it's 11pm #singed arcane #arcane singed #viktor arcane #arcane viktor #THIS ISNT EVEN TO MENTION THE BATTLECAST SKINLINE BTW #LIKE GODDAMN #THESE CHARACTERS #riot would get so much money out of me if they made stuff for them fr #everyday i lose my mind over these two #it's such a great contrast to all the other parent-child/mentor-protege relationships in arcane too cus #vi's taking vander's lessons to heart #jinx doesnt give a shit about the bad stuff silco's done #the closest resemblence to singed & vik is mel & her mom but it's like #same text different font style yknow #singed is the background character you don't think twice about #ambessa's much more proactive #heimer & jayce have a similar dynamic too i think but im not gonna clog the tags #and i only have the braincells for singed & vik lmfao #arcane #god s2 pls dont fuck these characters up im praying im begging on my gd knees

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calisources · 7 months

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THE ONE WITH THE FACE OF AN ANGEL. all sentences and quotes were taken from Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel the Series. all lines are by Angel and his soulless self, Angelus, so be warned a few of these are explicit or allude to sexual acts or have double meaning. change names, pronouns and locations (and ages) as you see fit.

That Slayer...she's a pistol.

I wanna torture you. I used to love it, and it's been such a long time. I mean, the last time I tortured someone, they didn't even have chainsaws.

Hey! Who's a guy gotta kill to get a drink around here?!

How sweet that virgin tasted, the fresh smell of a newborn's neck. My first nun - now that's a great story.

As for you, you luscious thing. I mean, you were going to let me out of that cage, so, let's see. I'll give you, what, a ten second start.

Don't be jealous, kitten. She's just the warm-up. I'll save the good stuff for you.

Angel,I love you,but I can't be with you...you ate babies...chicks.

The rumors are true. Angel has left the building, and I am back.

What won't I miss? The moralizing. Soul's already in the ether, boyo. I can smell it.

Tell you what. I'll torture ya for a few unbelievably long hours, and you can tell me if this is the lifestyle for you.

Passion rules us all. And we obey. What other choice do we have? Passion is the source of our finest moments.

If we could live without passion, maybe we'd know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow. Empty rooms, shuttered and dank.

Kill you? Why would I kill you when I can live off you for a month?

I don't want to share my feelings.I don't want to open up. I want to find the guy who killed Tina and look him in the eye.

Are you mad at me for being around too much or not being around enough?

I don't need strength. I just need the sun to rise.

I hated the girls back then.especially the noble women...they were just incredibly dull.

They have no taste for the undead. Not that a sting would do me any damage, it's just... tonight's special.

There's a lot I don't understand. I do know it's important to keep fighting. I learned that from you.

My people, before I was changed, they exchanged this as a sign of devotion. It's a claddagh ring.

Wear it with the heart pointing towards you. It means you belong to somebody.

I'm sorry. I wanted to take you out somewhere fun. It's been a long time since I've been to the movies. They've changed.

How can we be together if the cost is your life, or the lives of others? I know. I couldn't tell you. I wasn't sure - if I could do it if I woke up with you one more morning.

Don't mistake me. I do love the ladies. It's just lately... I've been wondering... what it'd be like... to share the slaughter of innocents... with another man.

Don't... I don't think that makes me some kind of a deviant, hmm? Do you?

Sorry about the chains. It's not that I don't trust you, it's... Actually, it is that I don't trust you.

I can walk like a man but I'm not one.

I'm weak. I've never been anything else.

I wanted to lose myself in you. I know it will cost me my soul, and part of me didn't care. It's not the demon in me that needs killing, Buffy, it's the man.

For a hundred years I offered ugly death to everyone I met, and I did it with a song in my heart.

You're a wreck! She's stronger than any Slayer you've ever faced. Force won't get it done. You gotta work from the inside. To kill this girl... you have to love her.

Let me guess, you summoned back the true Angelus because you need a new boy toy.

Oh, my cure? No, thanks. Been there, done that, and deja vu just isn't what it used to be.

The elders conjured the most perfect punishment for me. They restored my soul.

When you become a vampire, the demon takes your body, but it doesn't get your soul; that's gone. No conscience, no remorse, it's an easy way to live.

You have no idea what it's like to have done the things I've done...and care. I haven't fed on a human being since that day.

See? Whenever we fight you always bring up the vampire thing.

Gave her the puppy dog "I'm all tortured" act. Keeps her off my back when I feed.

Listen, if we date, you and I both know one thing's going to lead to another.

This isn't some fairy tale. When I kiss you, you don't wake up from a deep sleep and live happily ever after.

I did a lot of unconscionable things when I became a vampire. Drusilla was the worst. She was ... an obsession of mine. She was pure, sweet, and chaste.

Killed everybody she loved. Visited every mental torture on her I could devise. She eventually fled to a convent, and on the day she took her holy orders, I turned her into a demon.

She made me feel like a human being. That's not the kind of thing you just forgive.

Spike, boy you never did learn your history.

If I was blind, I would see you.

A demon isn't a man. I was a man once.

Because I wanted to! Because I want you so badly! I want to take comfort in you.

Am I a thing worth saving, huh?! Am I a righteous man? The world wants me gone!

I watched you, I saw you called, it was a bright afternoon out in front of your school. You walked down the steps and ... I loved you.

Because I could see your heart. You held it before you for everyone to see, and I was worried that it would get bruised or torn. And more than anything in my life, I wanted to keep it safe.

I can stay in town as long as you want me.

I never was much for preachers.

God, I missed watching this.

I’ll start working on the second front. Try not to use it.

Hm. You smell so good. So warm. I miss that.

You're wrong. You don't know what it is you're asking me to do.

Oh, what's the matter? Look a little nervous.

They always mistake me for the character I play. They never see the real me!

When you kill them. Some just stand there frozen while others.. .

This was about saving somebody's soul. That's what I do here and you're not a part of it.

That's great, it's nice you moved on; I can't. You found someone new; I'm not allowed to, remember?

I see you again, it cuts me up inside, and the person I share that with is me.

You don't know me anymore, so don't come down here with your great new life and expect me to do things your way. Go home.

Buttering me up. Getting me all relaxed, hm? Not the most innovative interrogation technique, but... OK, I'll play.

Well, now that's a question. Not a great question. Not even an insightful question.

So much for stand by your man. Then again, you probably like her on her knees.

The more you piss me off, the longer I'll keep you alive.

Oh, something tells me she's a screamer.

Hey, you remember that time you tried to get Angel to kill you because you felt all weepy over being such a bad little girl. Huh? Do you still feel that way? Do you still wanna die?

Well, it's not really the kind of message you tell. It sort of involves finding the bodies of all your friends.

I don't need to see movies to get worked up. Just being around you does that just fine. It feels nice, just to feel.

You still my girl?

I know what you're thinking. Maybe there's some good deep down inside of me that remembers and loves you, if only you could reach me.

You know what I just can't believe, all of our time together and we never tried chains.

Dream on, schoolgirl. Your boyfriend is dead and you're all gonna join him.

#rp meme #sentences memes #meme call #roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. )#rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #roleplay meme

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liminsendhelp · 25 days

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Don't pet the flea cat

Price×f!reader

This chapter contains references to blood and meat and torture. Angst. Our main character is getting worse.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6.

You, no joke, wanted to scream. As you suspected, the TF141 hadn't been at the base for over a month. They left at night, and you stared at the tail of the helicopter for a long time. You didn't even go out to say goodbye to it. Not having the right to do that was depressing, but sobering. You managed to forget reality.

Over the days, you could chase away thoughts of Price. He was there for you. Now you were starting to realise with horror that you were worried.

You sat down with your victim friends, wrapping a net of understanding around them to get to the bottom of it. You gossiped with your secretary, clearly wanting to get you into bed after realising you were single and not quite heterosexual. You were still training, just without John Price. Day in, day out, day in, day out. So after a week, bored with no grams of infused black humour around, no fair grades, no adorable buzzing and warm cow eyes, no four fuckers you swore you couldn't stand, you began to hate the world even more. Everything seemed bland.

"I swear I'll kill someone." You say at the table on a Monday morning. The sacrificial lambs around you, grinning sweetly as you burn holes in the idiots at the other tables. "You can't." "I have the guts." "And the skills?"

You turn your head sharply towards the black-eyed girl across the table. She's always so genuinely right that at first you don't even realise the suggestion in her words.

"Really?"

And she…nods. The other victims at the table nod, too.

So yeah, you're not bored anymore. You're hurt and hurt every day, now you're also angry. They come to the hall in the mornings, someone new every day, in shifts so that only one person is not in place. They torture you in fights, stances, kicks, punches, somersaults, jumps, reflexes and planks. And you keep quiet. Because you know, each to their own degree, that you are motivated by only one desire - to prove their weakness.

They're scared, sometimes. From the outside, you look empty. Like a shell of a person, not yet torn open to release a ripe monster. They let you joke and chatter, and you stay silent, focused on not hurting anyone. Exactly until you're knocked down time after time, your nose, your lip smashed, hurt. Until you're humiliated. That's when you stop thinking and start killing. It's probably the same therapeutic experience for them. They're trying to put themselves in their past place, the victim's place, and control their loss.

Because you're repulsive, fierce. Your body is big and soft, strong unpredictably, fast desperately. You feel no pain while you're held in a grapple. As opposed to your hips choking you, you squeeze your hands on their throats so hard they almost pass out. When they throw you over their shoulder and you instantly spit out your mouthpiece, ripping the t-shirt on your sparring partner with your teeth because you don't have time to get your hands on it. And if you get clipped, you fall over invariably with a roll to your feet to saddle up and bash their head against the floor.

Because you are violence. Ordinary, domestic, smelling of cheap beer and domestic tyranny. They could be the same if they saw entirely the norm they are prescribed in the morning as a cure for dissent. After all, the victim has two choices. Either kill or die.

"You've got to stop doing that. It's just a workout, no one's going to hurt you more than they need to." "I know. Sometimes, just, you know… No, just forgive." "Tough childhood, huh?"

You don't stop the play. Knowing you're just taking your anger, frustration and stress out on them, you cover yourself by pretending you're out of control. Like you remember how to let it go. But they feel pity. They don't see the rotten fangs beneath the lambskin you barely pulled on. And the days go by again, and you find entertainment again, and you start to trust more and more again. And the confessions pile up on you, and the tape recorder in your pocket won't stop writing, and the secretary helps you get to the right documents. She thinks she's doing a great job with you. You're just hoping for a chance to dig deeper.

You want to find something new, not just to gather statistics, but to run an arse-blowing campaign. Let everything burn with fire while you air your dirty laundry in public. You won't admit, even to yourself, that you just need a surprised expression on Price's face. And after, of course, approval. As if yes, that's what you could have found, just you. To help them throw the rats off the ship.

And to have Ghost. Satisfied only that his hopes were fulfilled.

One pat on the shoulder. One dry nod. You're not asking much. You'd like more.

…

It's fucking hot in here. In the stifling heat, they sat in the basement of the manor. Kings of our world. Their guards piled up near the secret passage in the catacombs.

There are five groups in all. The first will start firing, a diversionary tactic. The second wait inside the walls of the house. The smallest group of all, necessary for the right direction of movement. The third are in the woods surrounding the estate, clearing the field of local patrols. Fourths. "The Attic. Gas on the upper floors, with them, to prevent anyone escaping by helicopter.

And their group. In the basement, with the fuming air, waiting for the team. Each of them wouldn't mind finishing things themselves. But no, it has to be done quietly. Somehow John knows, senses something's going to happen.

Something's already happening.

The signal for action, the steady breathing, the orders. One single wound, and it's a tangential one. It's all coming out really quietly and quickly. Through the same hot catacombs, they lead the cartel goons to armoured trucks with not very friendly guards inside.

Everything goes quietly. The only thing that could ruin the operation is that the Attic group fails to shoot down the almost-mafia-head's helicopter in time. The smoking structure falls not into the woods, but exactly into the right wing of the estate, only to crash and tear up the ground beneath it. But even that doesn't stop the operatives from pushing the fugitives to the basement. All four teams, leading the disarmed and bound defendants, successfully convoy the men to the underground prison. Anxiety not subsiding, John puts a hand to his chest, in the place where a slim book from her collection would be hiding beneath his body armour if… if he asked directly. He would do so before the next mission, and carry a piece of literary reproach close to his heart. Yes, that's right, as soon as he gets there. And will sign an authorisation to access information about himself in case he dies. For scientific purposes. Then it won't make any difference. And no arsehole's gonna take that psychopath's rights away from her. Ghost will see to it that his will is carried out.

The initial interrogation entrusted to their care goes unnecessarily smoothly, too. John blushes away the smiles he sees on the faces of the cartel gangsters so as not to lose his temper.

Three hours later they're recalled to base, and that seems odd to him too. His gut doesn't fail, half an hour later the order changes, they're being redirected. Just their group.

"What's wrong?"

Laswell looks at him from across the table. New mission, heightened urgency, out in five minutes, helicopter will be arriving shortly. John glumly rereads the short brief.

"Something's wrong."

…

Something's wrong. You haven't seen Him in a month. Idiot soldiers, higher ups, yes even your lambs have been quietly alarmed. Dead. That's fine. You hadn't dismissed the possibility, and you were already grieving for Him endlessly. You had no right to show any emotion. You just knew that there were no more people in the dining room who seemed to be predators. You just saw that you had no place in that silence. So work. Work again. Bad habit. If he's dead, you have no-one to be ashamed of where you stuck your nose in.

Medical records label rape as "sharp pain in the lower abdomen." If the victim couldn't remember anything because of the opium, it was labelled "poisoning", if she recognised her attacker it was "cramps due to stress", if she saw but didn't know her attacker it was "suspected ulcer".

The latter cases had additional captions. "Sent for gastroscopy/ultrasound." eaquals to "investigation cited". Positive and negative results respectively implied a found and not found rapist.

Need I mention that ulcers were almost never detected? The patients turned out to be completely healthy. What distinguished rape cases from real cases of GI problems was the number of days off officially prescribed to the patient. More than three days was a bell; more than a week was a bell. There were two cases that imprinted themselves on your memory. The body, accustomed to cruelty and injustice, analysed the data on two month-long leaves and jerked. The first name is classified. The second was a woman who retired a year ago.

Thousands and thousands of military personnel. Only fifteen cases you could pull evidence from.

Fifty suspicious coincidences you couldn't explain.

Hundreds of rapes that never reached you.

And that's considering that any sexual encounter here was severely punished. Rape didn't just mean getting fired. A man would just disappear. He'd go on a mission and never show up. And this, of course, after months of boycott. No one would touch him, no one would communicate with him, no one would treat him as a human being. Rumour. The same rumours. Ghost stood hawkishly guardian of this policy. Of course, the command took liberties. The mass of nurses interviewed laughed coquettishly and outright bawled as they recalled advances from half-dead military men (it's worth mentioning that most of them were still alive). But no one confessed to the relationship, only discussed the varieties of genitalia that had passed through the strong hands of the medics. You didn't bother to use your knowledge of medical records. Anxiously smoking a smoking cigarette butt outside the medical block, you stared at the wall.

He was smiling so sweetly. Like a bear.

"What, Capitainess, are you sad?"

The sweet German woman - your secretary's best friend - was somehow luscious and unpleasantly warm. She smelt of blood all the time, and worked four-handedly at donation and "in confidence and as needed" in pathology.

You remain silent, examining her sly expression. It's not that you don't get along, quite the opposite. Which is why you allow her to mock you a little. To try and bite you. "Do you think yours will be here soon?" "Anticipating the autopsy already?" You mutter. "Oh, yeah, I love marbled beef. Did you see those shoulders? That dad bod." "He doesn't have any…" You begin, looking at her with a raised eyebrow. "Gotcha" she exclaims victoriously and your smile becomes much more noticeable than it was a second ago. "So you're looking at him!" Instead of answering, you toss your cigarette into the nearest rubbish bin and wait for the continuation.

The continuation doesn't come for several minutes as you stare into the surprisingly clear sky. Your hands are in your pockets, your lip between your teeth bitten to a bloody pulp.

"Is he alive?" You whisper. "Most likely. I've been here five years. Rumour has it he once commanded an operation right after he was rescued from captivity. And, I know you're not kidding yourself about that, but he really is a threat. A lethal one. He'll get out on his own." "Or he'll be dragged out." "More like dragged away." It sounds from behind you. You turn around to see an aggressive soldier handing you a cigarette. You smoke in silence. He claps you on the shoulder. "They're supposed to decide tomorrow whether they're sending my unit on its first operation. Nothing much, since the strongest positions are occupied by… whatever they're occupied with." "Back-up?" It's probably the simplicity of your interest in his answer. For a second, in those clear colours of the sun, you seem a little smaller, weaker. The desire to help rears its head. "Not only." He replies. You press your lips together.

The situation only gets more tense. The groups are coming back. Everyone is coming back. Gaz returns in such nervous overload that he can't unclench the hand he's been pressing against Soap's wound. He is silent and doesn't laugh. You look at him quite close, hiding behind the doctors and nurses. That white coat of yours, that skill of yours, that fucking charm of yours. The sight of Gaza is stupefying. The sight of Soap, pale, hooked up to a life support machine, terrifies you. The same iceberg, knocking you cold every time you see the last shots before the cameraman dies. The second before the explosion, those not yet shot run in silent panic. The second before the beast attacks. The recording cuts off only when the battery dies, already after the owner's screams have ended. The second before the shrill sobs of a girl being raped in a circle. That moment of helplessness behind the screen when you see and can't stop watching. When you are a participant and a perpetrator.

Gaz has been silent for a week. Soap is still in a coma. You move the laptop into the medics' lounge. On the floor by the socket, all black and dirty. You've lost seven kilos from the stress. On the floor next to you is one of the nurses' old thermos. You drew a small abstraction of stars and lines on her ankle with a black marker. The drawing is almost washed away, but you see its outline when her feet in crocs stop next to your knee. She shares a meal with you every day. You don't thank her, but you slip her a candy bar or ten quid or a sticker drawing. Your paper now has more than just a skeleton, it has substance. It's almost a good research paper. When you're allowed, you visit Gaza. Sometimes it's ten minutes, sometimes it's half an hour. On the first day, you simply reach out for him to put his palm into the embrace of your cracked fingers. His skin is just as rough and cold, but you can feel the pulse, and that rhythm lets you live, too. Now you come in with a book. You read Oscar Wilde's De Prófundis. Gaz is still silent, but his eyes warm and sparkle as he laughs from your sincerely-sarcastic-outraged intonations. Towards the end of the week, the book is finished, your paper has been sent to Dr Moon for another review, and your anxiety makes you stay on your feet steadier and fiercer. You dread going to sleep and finding out one of them is dead. Their faces looked like a mess when they arrived. Maybe they'd explain it to you, but you've already formed your own opinion. Your hands shake from the slight rise in blood pressure when you do more than just manipulate digitised information, but a real invasion. But. What were you supposed to do? The stolen medical records give insight into the anamnesis. Gaz doesn't speak for a reason. His tongue was cut off, not cauterised at the root, just wrapped in thin wire. The repair was emergency and only affected the major vessels. You think that's a good thing. If he heals well, he should be able to speak again. He'll probably have trouble recognising taste, but he'll be able to function almost fully. Two, three, five months and he'll be good as new. Soap's situation is much worse. Couple of shots to the torso.

Shattered lung, broken ribs, almost hit the heart. Second bullet punctured the liver. The third one tangentially grazed Soap's head. No brain damage, but damage to the skull. The injuries are severe, though not irreversible, but it will be difficult for him to regain his fighting ability. He'll be given an honourable rest. If he does come out of his coma. If he survives.

But he wasn't tortured. Most likely the macho man got out and sat in ambush, devising a plan to free himself. If Gaz was rescued by his forces, you weren't even going to give Soap an extra beating for kamikaze behaviour.

Moreover, you're on the verge of not doing the same.

But you're in luck. After a week in which you've never once been able to check on either Gaz or Soap, a wave passes through the entire base. It starts with the cobble-faced faces of the convoyers and the bags over the heads of the prisoners, and ends near you when one of your victim friends, bows.

"They'll be interrogating the ones who captured Cap and Lt."

A black veil rises before your eyes.

#limin #tf 141 #simon ghost riley #price cod #captain john price #captain price #price #john price #john price x reader #price x reader #x reader #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #gaz cod

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taralen · 7 months

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🎆HOT TAKE: Jevil was never a sane or good person. His true nature was merely exposed by the "strange someone."

(A theory by an actual insane person.)

Although this is the first time I am addressing Jevil on this blog, I feel it is worth analyzing his character due to his parallel yet vastly different experiences to Spamton's. He is very interesting, and I like him for different reasons, but I can't deny that his actions make him less sympathetic as a person.

In-game, Seam, who was once friends with Jevil, describes him as having "gone mad" after talking to a "strange someone." Fans have taken this as a reliable narrative since it's coming from a presumably old but wise figure who was once close to Jevil. However, allow me to introduce these two concepts:

The Unreliable Narrator Perhaps within Toby's intentions, Seam is portrayed as an old yet wise figure, almost like a wizard. Just because a character appears to fulfill an archetype does not mean that the character is actually that archetype.

Cognitive Bias It is a well-known fact that people are willing to see the best in others who we consider to be friends, family, or lovers. Seam thinking Jevil had "gone mad" was likely due to Jevil never expressing his worst antisocial traits openly before talking to a "strange someone."

Seam also describes Jevil as always being into games, which surprises no one given his jester themes and design. Pranksters can be mean-spirited, and in the case of his implied interactions with Spamton, this is very evident. Spamton describes him as only being into "games," and how no matter what he did (even cheating), he could not beat him. This reference is never in-game, but we can still apply it to our understanding of Jevil's character since it was part of a canon Q&A. His implied coulrophobia and disdain for clowns can either be seen as a meta-commentary and joke about the Deltarune fandom's love for secret bosses or an excellent hint of how mean-spirited and unhinged Jevil really is. Someone doesn't develop a phobia from just one bad game unless that interaction was very uncomfortable to the point where it made Spamton feel threatened (possibly for his life). (Also, I am aware some people say they are exes. Given the lack of substantial evidence of this in-game or in the Q&A, I think it's safer to say that the "ketchup kids" part merely references a meme and shouldn't be considered anything substantial for analysis.)

Jevil was already showing signs of someone with antisocial traits, particularly among individuals with Cluster B personality disorders. He also falls under the category of Personality Type B (unrelated to Cluster B personality disorders) because of his lack of urgency. We can summarize him with these hallmark antisocial traits:

Lacking remorse for actions.

General dearth of empathy.

Grandiose Self-Worth (I CAN DO ANYTHING)

Need for stimulation and prone to boredom (which is why his solitary confinement was awful for him.)

Lying and manipulative (tricks the fun gang into breaking him out of jail only to try and kill them afterward. He doesn't even want Kris or Susie's souls. He just wants to have "fun.")

Lack of any long-term goals (he merely exists for games.)

Lack of value for other's lives (he finds the idea of murdering teenagers as an exciting game.)

Blasé attitude about life. Essentially, he is doing whatever the hell he wants without fear of consequences.

Notice the recurring theme of "games." In this case, a "game" to Jevil means whatever he wants it to mean. A game for him might mean torture for another person. His bullet patterns also exemplify this. They are aggressive, cluttered, and have (fittingly) chaotic patterns. Spamton's, by comparison, are structured and not as dense, showing his restrained need to kill the party to achieve his goals (particularly with Kris.) Also, notably, Jevil never considers the party "friends" by the end of the battle, regardless if you choose the ACT or FIGHT options of beating him. If you pick the ACT option, he goes dormant as a tail, but in the FIGHT version, he stays active as the Devilsknife and shows enthusiasm about being used as a weapon (presumably) to harm others.

And here's the kicker of all this: these traits are seldom learned but are inherent to some individuals, particularly those who fall closer to psychopathy than sociopathy.

Psychopaths have strong genetic predispositions, meaning they are born that way. While there are many psychopaths who never go on to become mass murderers, it takes a significant amount of social pressure and understanding for them to realize their actions will get them into trouble.

Prior to speaking to that "strange someone," Jevil was likely held back by his perceived notions of governance and law in the Card Kingdom. As the court jester, he probably believed he could express his desire to mess with others because of his assigned role. Being the "fool" of the court, he must have made the Card Kings laugh at his expense, and for most of his existence, he was probably okay with this since jesters, in our reality, were known to make some pretty nasty jokes about royals only for it to all be laughed off. Playing games with Seam was just an added bonus, and Seam likely saw good in him that no one else did. However, Jevil learned that he could do whatever the hell he wanted with (perceived) zero consequences, and he ran with it.

Any goodwill he had with Seam or the Card Kings was dropped the instant he knew he could do anything he desired. This is not behavior from someone who is even remotely sane. The "strange someone" told him what he wanted to hear. Now, the jokes were no longer just jokes. Seam mentions Jevil saying things that don't make sense, but there is a shadow of doubt that this is the only reason he was locked away. Considering his interactions with the main party, he may have attempted to kill the Card Kings, hence why he was imprisoned by Seam, the only person, as Court Magician, who could match his strength.

This ties back to my initial arguments about Seam's unreliable narrative and cognitive bias. Seam saw Jevil as sane and playful, whereas the "strange someone" knew Jevil wanted to unleash his inner thirst for more dangerous games. These needs were always there, he just needed someone to tell him he could do them.

☠️

This is a bit of an aside, but I recommend anyone who likes Jevil to read Edgar Allan Poe's short story, Hop-Frog. It's about a diminutive jester whose attitude closely mirrors Jevil's, only without a Seam to hold that jester back. Honestly, Hop-Frog was the first thing that popped into my head after beating Jevil. It's definitely worth a read (or listen if you can't read it.)

Like with my Spamton sanity theory, I hope my Jevil analysis and insight as someone with life-long mental health problems can help others see this character in a way that may be enlightening or interesting.

💜

#deltarune #deltarune analysis #deltarune theory #deltarune chapter 1 #jevil #mental instability #mental illness

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deeptrashwitch · 9 days

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A Haunting Past (pt.8)

Tw: mention and allusion to kidnap, mention and allusion to death, mention and allusion to torture, mention and allusion to severe wounds, allusion to SA

Alyssa Price, referred as Aly in the first part of this part, is an OC who belongs to @alypink ! Please go and give her love, she's amazing!

Taglist: @alypink @stuffireadandenjoy @snootlestheangel @tapioca-milktea1978 @islandtarochips

@justasmolbard @mutantthedark @mctvsh @welldonekhushi @midnight193

"What are you thinking about?" Wraith quietly asked her with a raised eyebrow

"I'm confused about what happened, because...why kill the biggest weaponry supplier of the goddamned web? It doesn't make sense" she murmured

"Yeah, it's weird, do you think they'll try to do the same with the rest? I mean, we take Green Chameleon and Black Swan out of the game, and they killed White Tiger" Dominique murmured now frowning "they only are three now, it's good for us, but I don't understand..."

"Me neither, but we need to continue...I don't think we can go one by one, we have to take the two apart of Red Dragon all down at the same time"

"Do you wanna use the second squad?"

"...No, we need teams like us"

"So?"

"Let's call Aly, she knows what teams can fit better in each mission. We can give her all the intel that we have, and you can coordinate with her about the time, day and team that'll help us"

"Well, Alyssa is certanly someone I can trust about this, but it worries me what Red Dragon can do if he knows we have allies like her"

"Include her into our back up plan, we can protect Lily and anyone who needs protection. Also, Price is Price, he'll be damned if he let's something to Aly"

"Don't be so sure, something changed"

"What?"

"Soap MacTavish was shot in England trying to stop Makarov and a bomb used for an attempted attack, he's stills alive...but Price and his people are erratic because of it" Wraith explained with a sigh "I can't predict what will they do, even if he will protect Aly and Lily as usual...I'm afraid I don't know the reach of his consecuenses now"

"...Then let's bring them to Black Tomb, we're a high security base and we can protect them better"

"I like that plan better, I'll call her as soon we finish here"

"Thanks Dominique"

"Don't mention it" she said while she went to prepare everything for the explanation

Alicia sighed when Wraith proyected part of the archives of Firewall, trying to wrap her head to tell them about it. She stood in front of the table just waiting, then looking at Jackson and Edward in silence, wondering what their reaction will be. Dominique nodded towards her at the same time that the old emblem of the operation appeared in the screen.

"Alright, before I start telling you about Broken Statue...you need to learn about the operation before. During many years the USSOCOM chased after a trafficant with connections all over the world, and in 2016 we prepared an operation to get him and get information about a nuclear weapon cache" Alicia said with serious voice "I was sent and Wraith was assigned as intelligence there as well"

"We talked with many superiors of the different branches, retired and in active service, to know which teams should go to the locations. There were six, and so were six places where we could find Anwar Carabalí, well...Orisha" Dominique intervened to explain the technical part "two from the Army, two from the MC, a SEAL Team and a team from the USAAF. Alicia, I hope you remember the places...?"

"I do, and the teams. SEAL 3 was sent to Casa Blanca, the 101th was sent to Yamena, the 4th from Raiders went to Cairo, the 720th went to Brazzaville, the USSOCOM sent the 8th from the Rangers to Beirut...and the 267 was sent to Luanda" she muttered while she looked away "by that moment, I was the command officer of the Task Force, and that same year they died"

"You were there...?" Edward whispered, getting pale as he shared a look with Jackson

"Yes, I was there as well as you were" she answered with tired voice "I continue, SEAL 3, the 4th, the 101st and the 720th didn't find much information, some things about some other sites, useful...but not what we were looking for. Instead, the 8th found about the cache and we found Carabalí, but it wasn't good, we got the worst part"

Dominique showed ten archives under the name "Burning Heaven", all of them were soldiers, and half of them were marked as dead.

"This is the case from Lebanon, they called it Burning Heaven after the trap was known. Their Captain, Taylor Smith, talked with me once I came back to the US...we were in the same hospital ward" Alicia admitted with a long sigh "they were locked into the room with the information, none of them were meant to leave that place, but they had charges prepared for any case, so they escaped. From ten soldiers three of them died for chemical exposition, chlorine gas especifically, two died days later because of their injuries during the withdrawal and exposition to the gas...the rest of them were hospitalized during more than two months because of the gas and the Captain was discharged of the Army for permanent damages to his lungs and throat"

"What I'm about to show you, is a recording of that day recovered from the body cameras of the three first soldiers" Wraith said with a stone face "you need to understand, everything that you see here, our enemies are replicating it. So be aware of the danger you'll be exposed from now"

"I'll be outside, I can't bear watch that, call me when that finish" Alicia said, walking outside without being able to look at anyone

"Alicia" Wraith called, looking outside "it's time"

"On my way" she answered, walking towards the conference room

"Are you sure about this?"

"No, but I need them to know, I won't let the story repeat"

Dominique nodded with sadness, but followed her inside, where the ten Specters and the Colonel were silent, thinking. Then as Alicia took the pictures from the envelope and Wraith started to desclasify the archives, everyone looked at her.

"What you will see might change the whole perspective you have about me, and probably will stain all memories we have together" she said in a whisper that was well heard by everyone "I won't blame you if after this you decide to hate me or fear me, that would be understandable"

"All ready" Wraith said, making Alicia sigh

"At first se were supposed to raid the places at the same time, but for logistic reasons it wasn't the case. Instead, the 267 started the mission first and the other teams folowed, and that day was when we were declared MIA" she said with steady voice and shaking hands, making her cross her arms "someone betrayed us and we were ambushed by Orisha, once he captured us, we were jailed into one of his sutes in the middle of the angolan jungle. During two weeks and four days we were there, and...I was the only one who came back"

"Cap, but the inscription on the memorial-" Marcus tried to say, shutting up when he noticed the shineless eyes of his Captain

"I know, a helo crash...that was the excuse the CIA put for it, but the reality was other"

"What happened there?" Jackson asked, having a bad feeling

"Hell on earth" she muttered with pain "Carabalí wanted everything, the future raids, the members, the back ups and the equipments. As the officer in command, I was the only one with the complete information, and he tried to get it. At first he attempted with bribes and threats, when he didn't get anything about it, he started to use all kind of torture to make me talk"

It left everyone frozen, and instinctively they looked at Alicia's scarred arms and face.

"I never said anything despite what he did, for...a complete week I was cut, burnt, beaten, psycologically tortured and electrified in an attempt to make me tell them everything. And after that week, they learned about how loyal I am to my people and my ideals, so they started to use my team against me"

"What does that mean?" Luke murmured, thinking about the archive he accidentally found

"...During some days, after especially horrible times on that room, Carabalí's men took one of my soldiers and also started to torture them. I heard all their screams, and I couldn't do anything about it" she whispered while her grip over her arms became stronger, almost making little wounds "all of them had it worst, most of them didn't have the information they needed...those bastards just wanted to break me with them"

Alicia sighed, closing her eyes for a second, but shook her head before taking the envelope again. When she opened it she stared at them for a second, then took the pictures and walked towards the table, yet not looking at anyone.

"These are pictures that came to the light after the rescue mission, whoever betrayed us that time got this...this was us during that second week, our worst days"

The first picture was of a man, with his eye inflamed and his jaw in a weird position, also filled with little cuts.

"The Lieutenant, Richard Porter...he went as Blade"

The next one was a woman, her face was covered with dirt and bruises, her eyes filled with absolute fear and pain...and with bruises on her neck.

"Kate Petrova, Sergeant and the only other woman...she suffered the most, they did the unthinkable to her" Alicia whispered, letting a tear fall "she went as Hope"

While she whipped her tear, she left the third picture. Another man, muzzled, with blood running down from his forehead, frowning with anger.

"He was Leo Jameson, used to go as Tiger, our second Sergeant" she clarified looking away

When the fourth picture was left on the table, almost everyone was feeling sick, but they said nothing. It was a man too, with a long cut over the place where his eye should have been, but the eye wasn't there...and that was just one of his wounds.

"Sean Walker, Private, went as Marble..."

The fifth picture was a man, tired and filled of sadness, with part of his cheek gone and with his nose broken.

"Arthur Greenhill, Private, went as Lotus" she said, tapping at the picture with one finger "he...saved my life"

And the last picture left everyone frozen with horror, and Alicia was shaking as she put the picture over the table, trying not to see it. It was maybe as young as Francis if not more, with red eyes because of the crying, bruises all over his face, cuts and burns.

"...Jason, his name was Jason King. The kid went as Runner, a young one just sent to the 267 by that time"

As everyone tried to process everything, Alicia left one more over the table, calling everyone's attention. Every single soldier had to hold their breath and their desire to puke, because they now were staring at Alicia's picture during that time. She was staring at the camera with emotionless eyes, with all the cuts around her mouth open, with bruises all over her face and little burns going down her neck...the only thing missing was the huge burn scar on the side of her neck.

"They died because I was stubborn, because I didn't say anything, mostly after the Lebanon raid. And a day before the rescue team found me...I had to see them die" she said as she gathered the pictures inside the envelope and gave it again to Wraith

"Alicia" Dominique murmured, worried

"If I don't do it now, I never will"

"...Okay"

"Blade was first, they promised him our freedom if he killed himself and so he did in front of me. Hope was forced to drink machinery antifreeze, she...she begged me to help her, to make it stop" she muttered with broken voice, at the same time that her eyes filled with tears "Tiger was shot in the head, Marble...they left him to bleed out. Lotus had an option, or he used a red hot iron to burn me, or they'll bury it in my eye...he chose the burn and once he did it, he was shot. And Runner, he was alredy insane by that time, he just wanted to go home and once he looked at me and begged to take him home...they shot him as well"

"W-what did you do after that?" Noah asked, pale and scared

"Nothing, for hours I did nothing, I couldn't move for the shock...until I heard that Carabalí would be there the next day" she hissed while her eyes filled with anger again "I waited to the next day, and then I snapped. When I went to the old comms office, I digited a code that only US troops knows and that gave the sign to the rescue team"

"How many were...?" Elliot asked, having goosebumps

"There were 12 mercenaries inside" Wraith intervened, with obscured eyes "none of them survived. The causes of death were slit throats, broken necks, smashed traqueas and one with bullet wounds...but that last one wasn't Alicia's doing"

Alicia sighed, looking at her boys and at Alejandro, but they said nothing. She put her hands in front of her, for a second seeing in a flash how they were dirty and covered in blood.

"I know I'm a monster, I won't deny it, I was consumed by rage" she admitted, looking away in shame "I don't have any justification, but you needed to know"

"What happened with Carabalí?" Alejandro questioned, dead serious

Alicia and Wraith shared a look, and the Captain nodded towards the agent, who just sighed and went to look for a video.

"It's better to see it yourself"

[Video]

[The camera moved with the person wearing it, getting near to the entrance of the prison site, which was pitch black inside. But some sounds alerted them, and all the rifles pointed towards the entrance, everyone expecting an army going outside to fight them. Instead of it, it was just a person who walked (rather limp) towards them.

It was Alicia Marchant, who just limped towards them with a metal box on her right hand and...a head on her left hand, Carabalí's head, dripping blood yet. She looked at them with a stone face, throwing the severed head to the ground in front of them, looking at all the soldiers.

"Orisha is dead, and there is the rest of my team" she said, pointing to a pyre "maybe even more soldiers under the soil"

After saying that, she limped towards the helicopter, with everyone getting out of her way because of fear. The camera noticed how she hugged the box against her chest, with a tight grip, and with a little tear running down her dirty cheek.]

The short video finished, while Alicia leaned against the wall, with her eyes closed and with a frown, don't wanting to remember.

"You okay?" Wraith asked quietly, walking towards her

"...Kind of" she admitted, feeling chills "it isn't the best thing to remember"

"I bet, I still remember those first nights when I visited you"

"Mmm"

"What do you think they'll say?"

"I don't know, but whatever it is...I won't blame them"

"But what about Alejandro?"

"I'm scared of loosing him" she admitted with a vulnerable voice "but I can't tie him to me without knowing my dirty secret, it wouldn't feel right"

"We can always go to drink if anything happens"

"Hmm"

"And about the boys?"

"I won't force them to stay, they're free to go if they want to"

For a second nothing happened, with Alicia already preparing herself for the hate, the screams, the scolding, while Wraith was ready to take her out of there. But when Luke hit the table, with enough strenght to make it sound like a thunder, they both jumped out of fear as Alicia reached instantly for her karambit. The red-haired Lieutenant was furious, cursing down his breath before standing up and start walking like a caged animal.

"If he wasn't dead, I would kill him myself!" he roared, passing a hand over his hair "that son of a bitch! He should've suffered as much as they did!"

"Calm down" Jackson hissed, livid as well "he's gone, but there's still a traitor. That's the one we need to hunt"

"We don't even know who is it" Alexander pointed, angrier than they ever saw him, but controlling himself "even if we investigate, how we will be sure that they won't have more power than us?"

"Oh, fuck that" Elijah snarled, furious as well "if we have to fight the goddamned president. We. Fucking. Will"

Alicia was seriously surprised just as Wraith, and they were equally confused when they shared a look, shrugging without knowing what to do. Then Alejandro also stood up, leaving everything in silence as the team glared at him, and walked towards Alicia while Wraith took some steps aside. The Captain looked to the floor, expecting the worst, but was dragged into a desperate hug on Alejandro's part.

"I'm sorry" he whispered, hugging her tightly, trembling "I should've gone there, I...I should've helped with the rescue. God, maybe if I didn't listened to my superiors and went anyway-"

"It's not your fault, Alejo" she whispered too, hugging him back "there was nothing you could've done, and I'm glad you didn't have to see me like that"

The man didn't say anything else, just kept the hug going, until he broke it and smiled sadly.

"Can you give me some time? I...need to think some things, before I do a stupid decision"

"All the time you need"

"Thanks, amor"

Alejandro kissed her cheek and walked outside, mumbling something down his breath with a worried expression, under Alicia's sad stare. Then Edward sighed and walked towards the screen that had that last frame frozen, turning it off before walking towards Wraith, who just nodded in silence. Soon the pilot looked at his friend, and he put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it a bit.

"I'm happy you're alive" he said, with his eyes also filled with tears "sorry, I never noticed"

"Never say sorry to me, I didn't want any of you knowing this"

"Still, rely on us too. We prefer you alive, so don't overwork yourself and let us help"

Everything was in silence again, but slowly Alicia noticed how none of her boys was hating her, instead they were furious on her behalf. Even Francis, always the happier one, was spitting with rage as he learned everything, and let's not talk about the short-tempered ones. She couldn't stop a giggle, that called everyone's attention, and soon she was laughing.

"Cap?" Nicholas asked, confused and worried "are you okay?"

"Yeah, it's just...that's been a long time since someone was like this. Usually people wish I died there" she answered, looking at them with a touched smile as she cried "I'm just overwhelmed and happy that you want me alive! Sorry"

Everyone looked at her with surprise, even Wraith this time, and felt bad for the woman while she continued crying. Then Marcus took out a handckerchief, walking towards the Captain, offering it to her with a soft smile.

"Well, you've always been there for us and treat us like your family, Cap. And you're part of our family too, of course we want you alive! We'll stay by your side every time, doesn't matter what will happen" he said while she took the handckerchief "also, you're the only one who can control our craziness..."

Alicia laughed again, this time with joy, and then she looked at her team. They all were smiling at her, even Jackson was, and it felt...good.

"Well then, we still have work to do" she said, back with her usual steady voice, cleaning her tears "the traitor stills out there and even if I wish we can hunt them, Six Aces still are the biggest threat for us right now. Let's go for them, then we go for the traitor, you copy?"

"YES CAPTAIN!" they answered at unison, determined

"Then I'll talk with Aly, I'll bring news soon" Wraith said with a little smile "let's finish here as soon as we can"

#ocs #call of duty #oc #cod oc #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #team charlie #cod mwii

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zvtara-was-never-canon · 8 months

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"Character X is Y sexuality" is such a dumb take to invalidate people's shipping.

If canon mattered that much in people's shipping/headcanons, Zutara wouldn't be popular. Everyone would (correctly) be disgusted by the concept of Z*c*st. Shipping wouldn't even be an actual thing, fanfic wouldn't be a thing.

People have always taken supposedly cishet characters and made them queer in their fan works.

("Azula is straight" gives me the same vibe of "Yelena is ar*-ac*". It's not explicitly mentioned in canon.

Oh, but she only showed interest in men.

So did Korra until she didn't and guess who she ends up with.

Kyoshi says she has to convince herself she's not in love with Yun and guess who she ends up with.

They'll kill Azula off, probably, take away her bending and finish ruining her character before there's a chance she's canonically queer.

Canon still doesn't mean much.

Unless clearly stated, anything is a headcanon.

Including "Azula is straight".)

This is a good ass blog, but that kind of take just ruins all of it for me.

"To invalidate people's ships" You're REALLY gonna pretend you didn't see me literally list all the lesbian ships I have for Azula, and that I didn't say I would love for her to be bisexual, huh? Again, I don't give a damn what people ship or what kind of fan content they want to create, I only don't like being told to treat fanon (even fanon I like) as canon because it leads to dishonest analysis of a show.

You: Unless something is clearly stated, it is not canon!

Also you: Azula canonically only ever shows interest men and never in women, and I personally think the writers would rather torture and kill her character than show her as a queer woman. But if you say that means she's canonically straight, I'll yell at you.

Make it make sense.

Also "Korra ended up with in a relationship with someone that the writers, by their own admission, never made her be explicitly or implicitly interested in because they were two cowards that were not at all interested in rocking the boat" is NOT the winning argument you think it is. And that doesn't retroactively make Azula bi or a lesbian, it's just extra proof that the writting for Legend Of Korra was TERRIBLE!

"Kyoshi SAYS a thing that confirms she's bisexual"

Congratulations! You found actual representation! Aka something being considered canon to a particular story BECAUSE IT WAS EXPLICITLY SHOWN TO THE AUDIENCE THROUGH THINGS THAT WE SEE PLAY OUT!

"Oh, but Azula never said she is NOT into women, so even though she is only ever shown to be attracted to men, we can't rule out the possibility of her secretly liking women too until she full on says it!"

Wanna go there? Fine. Then you cannot tell me that the Fire Nation royal family doesn't have a tradition of incest like many real life royals did, and that Zuko and Azula did not at least consider the possibility of marrying each other to avoid an Agni Kai for the crown like we saw in the finale. Sure, that is never explicitly confirmed by canon, but it was never explicitly stated to NOT be the case either, and according to you that TOTALLY means it is not at all impossible for this kids' show to have secretly said "incest is wincest" all along, because apparently the writers need Zuko and Azula, the two characters in a KIDS show, to look at the camera and say "Our family tree is not a circle" for us to understand that this family that has never been stated to practice incest, does not, in fact, practice incest.

"Canon doesn't mean much anyway" Then why are you mad that I said "Even though I would like for Azula to be bisexual, that is simply not canon. There's sadly just no way any character in a kid's show made in 2005 was meant to read as anything other than straight"?

Considering you felt the need to:

1 - Point out that Zutara is a ship with no canon basis AND that you like my blog, literally called "Zutara was never CANON."

2 - Randomly mention the fact that my OTP, Zucest, is also not canon AND that plenty of people, you clearlt included, find it absolutely disgusting (like I somehow didn't get the memo on that).

3 - STILL cherry pick stuff to claim Queer!Azula could totally stealthly be a canon thing.

I'd say you only have a problem with me saying things like "X is canon, Y is not" because YOU very much think of canon as being inherently better than fanon, so when I point out something you dislike is not canon that means my blog is awesome to you because you see it as validating your opinion that something is trash, but the second I go "But this other thing you (and I) like/are neutral on is not canon either" suddenly I'm the devil because I'm "attacking" people for something that is just harmless fun.

The whole "Azula is not canonically bi/gay, so any headcanon of her being queer is bad" is in YOUR head, honey. You're never gonna hear that kind of crap from me, and I'd appreciate it if you stopped putting words in my mouth.

And as a bisexual woman, I'd appreciate some ACTUAL REPRESENTATION of bisexuality being praised, instead of garbage like the incredibly insufferable Korra/Mako/Asami love triangle ending with a nonsensical conclusion that people praise just because it had two women *gasp* holding hands! And even THAT being hidden away since Korra's last season was basically dumped online because the show's ratings were terrible.

#fandom fuckery #avatar fandom problems #anti lok #anti korra #korrasami is irrelevant #azula is straight #zucest

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cawthorntales · 3 months

Text

"While we wait for our ride. I have some things I need to tell you. In case it changes your mind about us."

"Darlin, nothing is going to change my mind."

"We will see Brock. I'm not who you think I am. I'm not a writer. I don't even like to write I find that shit boring. I needed a cover for the bachelor challenge. I actually run an underground crime ring, my people do it all extortion, robbery, torture. However I don't allow killing.

I wasn't always like this. Hell I didn't even used to look like this. I was weak. I let people walk all over me, I never wanted to inconvenience anyone, I hated piercings, I was too shy to show my body off, I would go out of my way to help people, The sight of blood would make me pass the fuck out and I never swore.

That all changed when I bought my house. The house came with a chicken named Emily who turned out to be an evil bitch... I mean witch who had been cursed hundreds of years ago and turned into a chicken. I didn't know any of that and I made some breakfast one day with eggs she had laid and the eggs had traces of her magic in them.

I was turned into the man I am now through those eggs. Through her magic I am not going to age, I can't get sick or anything like that. Only killing me would end my life. And it'd have to be a pretty fast way to kill me before my body healed.

Emily wanted an evil, selfish asshole to help her. And that's what I am. I stopped giving a fuck about anyone, but myself and eventually Emily a long time ago. I did the show on the very slim chance I could find a man to love. If I was even capable of love anymore. I wasn't expecting much. But then you happened. I may have lied and kept information out. But I mean it when I say I love you Brock.

I love you more than anything else in this world and I would crack anyone's skull who so much as laid a hand on you to harm you. I'm still the man you fell for. I didn't lie about that. I'm just not as soft and shit as I pretended. I understand if this makes you want to turn tale and run. But I felt I owed it to you to tell you who I am now that the cameras aren't rolling.

Emily still had corrupted eggs that I didn't know about. She was at the bachelor house with us the entire time watching everything from the shadows. Without my knowing it. The next morning after I picked you the asshole tricked Rayan into eating an egg. He's now changed and isn't the Rayan you remember. She said she needed someone to act in my place when I was busy with you."

"Wow." Brock said.

I couldn't make out his expression or emotions. And for the first time in a long time I was scared and nervous.

"Emily wanted me to trick you into eating the last egg. She said you'd leave me when you learned the truth. I told her I wasn't going to take that choice from you. Rayan and I didn't get a say. I wasn't going to do that shit to you."

"I'm not going anywhere Logan." Brock sighed.

"Really?" I hated how vulnerable I sounded asking him. I didn't do vulnerable anymore.

"Really. Thank you for being honest with me. I can understand why you put on a facade for the show and while I do feel deceived. I get it. And thank you for not doing what the bird wanted and forcing that onto me. I don't want it. I like the man I am."

"I love the man you are." I replied.

"Who knows maybe I can fix ya."

I smiled. "Cowboy there is no fixing me. Her magic is permanent and strong. This is the fucker I am now."

"Alright then. That's good enough for me."

"Emily is going to be pissed she was wrong about you."

"Good. Let her be mad." Brock laughed.

I could listen to his laugh all day. Emily told me love was weakness. But what does she know about love? Maybe love can also be strength. Brock would be my strength.

Brock is by @theosconfessions

#the dark heart legacy #logan heart #simblr #sims 4 #brock hilton

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mlmxreader · 1 year

Text

Pull The Trigger | Ghost x trans!m!reader

@issdisgrace asked: “Keep your eyes on me, don't look anywhere else"

With Ghost and a ftm reader. It’s the readers first shot and he’s to scared to do it himself so he asks Ghost to do it for him and he agrees to do it. Just pure fluff, please ❤️❤️❤️

summary: you don't want to be like those who find glory in animosity, but luckily, Ghost is right there with you to reassure you as much as he can.

tws: definitely a "war is Hell" vibe ngl, swearing, gun violence, guns

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

The sound of gunfire was heavy and harsh, controlled savagery; those who pulled the trigger near you did so with nothing behind their eyes, not a single tremble in their fingers, wanting little more than to make sure that they could kill a civilians if they wanted to. American military. They were vile.

They were killers, they were savages and barbarians, chasing glory and honour and valor without knowing that they could never grasp a hold of it; how could there be glory in war when they were so intent on slaughtering civilians? How could they have any honour when they fought for nothing except power, capital and oil? How could they know what valor was, when they did not have an ounce of decency to go with it?

Your hands shook when you held the rifle, not wanting to be like them; you didn't want to be someone who found entertainment in watching civilians die. You didn't want to be someone who gleefully tortured hostages. You didn't want to be someone who enjoyed wrecking people's homes just for the fun of it, watching with a grin as their homes turned to ash and rubble from a fire you had set. You didn't want to be like them.

The only solace was the Union Jack patch on your arm, and the masked man laid on his stomach beside you. But you didn't want to be like them.

You fumbled to get the rifle in position, but the second you laid on your stomach and looked through the scope at the target, your fingers froze; you couldn't pull the trigger. You didn't want to be like the Americans, you were scared of becoming a monster like them. You looked to Ghost, frowning as you shook your head.

"I can't do it."

"You're meant to be our new sniper," Ghost growled. "Take the shot, (y/n)."

You shook your head, pulling away from the rifle and able to feel your eyes well up with tears. "I can't shoot them, Si."

He huffed, swallowing thickly as he looked you up and down; he had known you long enough to be able to tell that you were scared. You were terrified, actually. "What is it?"

"I don't wanna be like them," you told him with a sniffle. "I don't wanna be like the yankees are. I don't want to be a monster."

Slowly, Ghost nodded; he had seen Americans on the battlefield enough times to know exactly what you meant. Slaughtering civilians like cattle. Burning houses. Torturing prisoners of war. Tricking children into setting off bombs. Fighting for no good reason, just oil and power and wealth.

"Do you want me to do it for you?"

He had seen those monsters for himself time and time again, he had even fought them when he knew that he could get away with making them stop, but he could understand why you were scared of being like them. He was, too. Probably more than you were, although he would never admit to it; you were all scared of being such heinous and vile creatures who wanted to be entertained by slaughter.

The soldiers themselves weren't even any good, anyway; they were not brave like Gurkhas, they were not smart like the Canadian Special Operations Regiment, they were not honourable like the Indian Marine Commando Force. They were cowardly and cruel, bullies who would shit themselves at the first sign of real fighting.

They were not soldiers, they were not warriors, they were bullies.

Nobody wanted to be like them. To be so vile, so disgusting, so awful and to be a shame to themselves and their families; to be a disgrace. Nobody wanted to be like that, to be even similar to them, not If they wanted to be a decent person, to be someone who could actually look their family in the eyes. To be human, not monstrous.

You nodded as you looked at him, pleading as you refused to take your gaze from him. "Please."

Ghost sighed, and moved over, gently pushing you away so that he could get behind the rifle; his hands didn't shake as he looked through the scope and he put his finger on the trigger. He was calm and collected as he nodded slowly, chewing at the inside of his lip. "(y/n), keep your eyes on me, don't look anywhere else... don't even think about the yanks."

You nodded, daring to get against his side as you rested your chin on his shoulder, your arm over his shoulder as you sighed. "This okay?"

"Just fine." He nodded. "Just don't look at them."

You swallowed thickly, although it was hard not to turn your head and to take any notice of the monsters surrounding you when you could hear the mortars, grenades, all kinds of explosives being deployed and launched by them; no respect for the land that they were upon, they were going to piss all over it.

They were going to ruin it. You could already smell the way that the buildings were starting to burn, knowing that they had been set ablaze by the Americans, and you couldn't stop yourself.

You pressed your face against Ghost, shaking your head as you whimpered quietly; you had seen war, you had been death and destruction for years before this moment.

A successful sniper, it's what for you dragged into task force one four one in the first place. But what they were doing was not war. It was not death and destruction; it was cruelty and abuse. It was killing for the sake of it.

No care for the art of war. Only wanting to take pleasure and entertainment in the suffering of others, and as you kept your face pressed against Ghost, you heard and felt him take the shot; relief came over you for a split second, but you could not relax.

Slowly, Ghost pulled himself away from the rifle when he was sure that the target - a billionaire with a lust for misery - had been brought down; he sighed, brought you between his legs as he leaned against the nearest wall, and rested his chin on your head as he kept his arms around you tightly.

"It's alright," Ghost said, keeping you right there as he sighed. "You ain't nothing like them, don't worry. You're nothing like them... I got you."

You nodded, leaning into him as you relaxed a little more and closed your eyes. You felt him wrap his arms around you, keeping you tight against him as he slipped his hand under your shirt and pressed his gloves hand to your skin, a coarse reassurance that even tickled a little from where there were stray bits of string, wear and tear in those gloves.

It was the best reassurance you had had. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," Ghost grumbled, pulling his mask up just enough so that his mouth was exposed, pressing his lips to your skin, another small reassurance. "You're alright. I've got you, (y/n)... how many fuckin' times have I proved it?"

"A lot," you agreed softly. "I still remember when you knocked that yank out for me."

"Yeah, well, he shouldn't have been sayin' that you were less of a man for bein' trans," he growled, gently nipping at your skin. "I've got you. I got your six."

"I've got your six," you repeated softly. "I'll be able to take the shot next time."

"Next time, you'll be with Soap," Ghost admitted. "But I ain't gonna be far if you need me... promise."

"Thank you," you murmured.

"Don't worry," he sighed. "Shit happens... but you got me."

It was the best he could offer, unable to tell you that he loved you but still wanting you to know that he cared; he cared about you as much as he could allow himself to, and he wanted you to know that. When he said that he had your six and that he had you, Ghost wasn't lying.

if you enjoyed this fic, REBLOG IT; if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM level of support. do not interact if you won't reblog.

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e-the-village-cryptid · 1 year

Note

i am very interested in your rant about Wednesday

hoo boy. ok so I'm way too tired right now to get into the more serious, real-world-affecting issues with the show so I'm going to leave that to tirrrb's excellent video on the matter and just go with the pettier, in-world issues.

spoilers ahead

[preface. I didn't completely hate the show. I actually found most of it enjoyable to watch. that's the reason I'm so passionate about all the problems with it]

ok so first off. this show would not have been a huge hit if it weren't for the nostalgia factor. the show was, to be honest, mediocre. the plot made no goddamn sense, the love triangle was forced and both love interests were boring and the same exact person, the "school for monsters" thing made no sense at all. the only reason it was halfway decent was 1. most of the acting was very good (most.) and 2. it looked good aesthetically. and the only reason it took off is because people already knew the addams family.

but here's the thing. here's the thing. I've heard people say the show hates its source material. I disagree. the show doesn't even know its source material. it's apathetic. and that's even worse. the show is based on the addams family as someone who once heard someone reference it in conversation would understand the addams family. they were like "what's our source material? ok so weird morbid family with goth vibes, the parents are continuously overcome with lust for each other, the daughter is even more morbid than most of them. got it." but like? what about everything else? where is the heart of the addams family? where is the camp, the flair, the hilarity, the delight, the obliviousness to their strangeness and their revelry in mischief? which brings me to something else:

the genre of this show is 100% incompatible with the addams family. full stop. you cannot maintain the concept of the addams family in a genre that takes it seriously. the addams family genuinely enjoy murder, torture, and death. this works in a sitcom! it does not work in a drama! in the 90s movies wednesday (kills? buries alive? if the latter, they were dead eventually) two people. it's played for laughs, because, you know, sitcom. wednesday would never in a million years be trying to PREVENT people from being murdered. but of course that doesn't work in a serious show; they'd be horrible people! but then you get this incongruence between wednesday talking about how awesome murder is and then being mad at her dad because she believes he murdered someone once. the result is that in Wednesday, they just seem like an edgy but ultimately harmless goth family, when the source material is they are all genuinely fucking unhinged in the best way. you can't take the addams family seriously, it just doesn't work.

and don't even get me started on the "school for magical kids" nonsense. what?? ok, completely making stuff up for a remake isn't ALWAYS bad, but.... in this case it really was. in a world full of vampires and werewolves and sirens, the addams family are STILL the weird ones because they're, what, goth? wednesday gets into the school before they even know she HAS magical powers, which also makes no goddamn sense. everyone treats her as special and makes exceptions for her because.... why, exactly? i agree with tirrrb that what netflix really wanted to make was some sort of monster high remake but they didn't have the rights to that so they just... co-opted the addams family instead. and it just doesn't make sense to do that with the addams family. the addams family is funny because of their contrast to the completely ordinary world they live in. you take away their charm by making their weirdness just some product of a larger magical world.

and the fucking love triangle. first of all. wednesday wasn't into either of them. there was zero chemistry there. and why did there even have to be a love triangle in the first place?? wednesday's rude to everyone so naturally everyone wants her and is convinced she's in love with them (?????). and good god. it took me four episodes to even tell those two apart. two identical white boys with identical attitudes and identical inabilities to understand the word "no". "you're sending me mixed signals" my dude if you think "no" is a mixed signal I think that's a you problem. love triangles are supposed to force some choice between something more than just the two boys, and they kind of tried to do that by making Tyler a "normie" (side note: calling them "normies" like it's an insult? what are y'all, emo 12-year-olds? get over yourselves), but then that... never really came into play? also Jenna Ortega's "emotionless" Wednesday face still managed to convey more emotion than either of those two boys ever did combined. like the most Tyler's expression ever changes is when he's literally being tortured, when he like, knits his eyebrows a bit (ok I'm exaggerating but not by much).

and what were they even trying to do with enid's werewolf thing? like it was very clearly a metaphor for queerness (they even had that godawful "conversion therapy for werewolves" line) but the metaphor was so confused. they had no goddamn idea what they were trying to say. "ok so interesting twist on the werewolf thing— it's actually NOT being a werewolf that's the metaphor for queerness here!" ok cool. then what. "ok so Enid feels left out of her family and like her parents are disappointed because she hasn't wolfed out yet." got it, got it, sounds a lot like parents being disappointed you haven't "stopped with the silly tomboy stuff and settled down with a nice man". keep going. "ok so even Enid is super upset about this even though she knows she should take it on her own time." yeah, internalized homophobia, got it. and then? "but then she wolfs out and realizes she was able to be a normal werewolf the whole time after all!! she's so happy and relieved and her parents are finally proud!" wait, what??

now it's time for the big one!! I saved the worst for last! the PLOT. THE FUCKING PLOT. THAT MONSTROSITY YOU CALL A PLOT. wednesday writers. listen. listen to me. twists are fine. red herrings are fine. but listen. here is the important part. when the twist is revealed, the viewer must feel like they should have gotten it before. they must understand why the twist is what it is. and they definitely, definitely cannot be left feeling that the red herring still makes more sense than the actual twist! there has to be an explanation for why the red herring appeared to be guilty even though they weren't! you can't just abandon that thread!! there are two big ones here that upset me.

the fricken "xavier is the monster" mislead. ok so he isn't the monster. why then, does he constantly see the monster in his dreams? why is it basically all he draws? why is it in his head so much? "oh that's easy! because he has this drawing stuff power!" yeah I know that but why the monster specifically? "because it's most relevant because it's gonna take down the school!" ok.... but why just the monster? why does he never see joseph crackstone? thornhill? aren't they an imminent danger to the school too? "uhhh next question"

Dr. Kimball. listen. she was a TERRIBLE therapist. she was so bad she literally couldn't have been a therapist. she was massively violating HIPPA all over the place, invasively entering her clients' lives during important moments outside of the therapeutic space, etc. it was SO BAD she couldn't possibly have been a real therapist but no it just turns out she was fine? red herring guys! listen listen listen you NEED an explanation for why your red herrings are Like That

also the entire Crackstone thing made no sense. "I hate people who do magic, magic is an abomination, therefore you must seal my crypt with magic and then use magic to raise me from the dead so I can use my magic staff to kill all these evil magic-doers" .......uh huh

ok I'm gonna stop here but let me say I didn't hate everything about the show! the Wednesday acting was excellent and Jenna Ortega really did capture the essence of the character. Bianca is fantastic, Eugene is fabulous. Enid and Wednesday's relationship was very genuine. Thing and Uncle Fester were great. the aesthetics looked great and the show continued being enjoyable to watch thanks to the good actors even when the plot was a train wreck. I enjoyed watching it most of the time! but good god were there some massive problems. in my opinion

#ask tag #i'm not gonna put this in the wednesday tag that would be mean #an e original

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mlobsters · 4 months

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supernatural s13e20 unfinished business (w. meredith glynn)

taking a second to reflect i'm just about a year into this spn first time watch. first screenshot i took was in s1e2 and that was feb 1, 2023. inching closer to the end but damn.

wtf is happening with gabriel fighting a werewolf-esque whatever with a singlestick type thing. and this music? so cheesy 70s whatever. i see you jay g (christopher is also guilty of it when there's A Theme though so)

aww he's got a list like arya. ok so, like kill bill. which i tried to finally watch here not long ago and i couldn't get past the first fight scene in the house. feel like i might have enjoyed it when it came out when i was 23, but my appetite for tarantino tanked somewhere along the line. also, we already did a reservoir dogs homage episode, did we need another one?

these massive motel rooms, what even

haven't made a dean loves the magic fingers reference in a long ass time. reunion tour of references too

so this is a directed by speight episode too. ok

the apocalypse is good for mary's hair apparently

GABRIEL I call that art. But yes, without me, you two chuckleheads never would've known how to throw Lucifer back in the Cage. DEAN But instead of giving us a hand, you ran. And you just did it again when you ditched us in the bunker. GABRIEL All right, Dean-- I have more important things to do than to join your little band of merry men. DEAN Hey, what you're doing? This? This is not important. GABRIEL Every day, Asmodeus tortured me. Every… day! He fed off my grace for years! He used me, he debased me until I was… What I went through… you don't forgive. Everyone who had a hand in it will die. Get me?

a) this weird explanation/retcon of loki actually being someone else and that's why gabriel was pretending to be him is... weird. b) i get the impassioned speech but talking to two dudes with many more years or torture under their belts, i think they get it

DEAN Not like I care about killing gods, okay? But this whole revenge kick? It's a waste of time. SAM What if it's not? DEAN You've seen it, Sam-- with me, with Dad. Revenge only ends one way-- ugly. SAM Well, maybe it doesn't have to. DEAN Okay, I think I know what this is. SAM Okay, what is this? DEAN You. You're you're so hopped up on this “Kill Bill” fantasy of his. SAM No, no, no. This has nothing to do with me. DEAN If you had a shot at Lucifer, you wouldn't take it? SAM Of course I would. But this is about Gabriel. He needs our help. [Dean rolls his eyes, but agrees to hear out Sam’s plan back in the room] SAM Gabriel, you agree to help us, we'll agree to help you.

and a throwback to revenge never pays. but like, why doesn't sam just go for the obvious, we need his help and maybe he'll do it if we help him quid pro quo. jay bringing the eye rolling music juice, wouldn't expect anything else

GABRIEL Well, Sleipnir's a lot of things, but mainly, he is a coward. I will bet all the personal lubricant in the S.F.V… that after we killed Narfi, he ran straight back to papa's skirts.

and throwback to references i don't understand, that used to be a regular occurrence in kripke-era seasons. per the wiki:

S.F.V. refers to the San Fernando Valley in California, the center of the adult entertainment industry.

wonder how many people caught that, seems awfully obscure

MARY I know you've been winning all these fights, and you want to take him on so bad. I was just like you, with hunting. But I learned the hard way-- thinking you can win all the time, running in blind into every fight? That's how you make mistakes. And the people here, they-- JACK I'm doing this for them. MARY You can't help them if you're dead. And I can't lose another boy.

i'm sorry mary but i snorted. we just haven't had enough time to really establish this, and it's been backburner at best when it's around. #boymom 🤪🤪🤪

LOKI Yes, you do. Little bit. Our treatment of your friend is payback for a slight of a more personal nature. The death of my father, Odin. DEAN Oh, that wasn't him. Lucifer did that. LOKI Ah. But why was my father there in the first place? To parlay, to deal with Gabriel's brothers. When we first made terms, I had only one condition-- I would give him my face, teach him to be me, the trickster, if he agreed to abandon the more… volatile affairs of his family. Forever. When he hit that hotel, he broke that promise, and it cost my father his life.

hokay. never gonna retain any of this. i thought odin died another way but i think i'm thinking of zeus. big ask for me to care/remember the nonsense plot going on from an episode in s5. i can only imagine if i watched this as it aired. perpetually lost

SAM That's not… I'm saying this has become a whole thing with you lately. DEAN A whole thing? SAM Yeah. DEAN Since when? SAM Since the last time we opened up a rift. Since you decided to sideline me and then head to Apocalypse World with Ketch. DEAN Okay, well… we talked about that. SAM Did we? Because I gotta be honest, after everything, you're treating me like I-I deserve to be back at the kid's table or something.

good on you, sam

DEAN Sam, I'm not gonna apologize for protecting you. SAM So that's what you think you're doing here? DEAN You remember what happened the last time we had front row tickets to the Lucifer/Michael show? 'Cause I do. You died… and went to Hell. But see, this time, the apocalypse isn't looking for us. We're actually looking for it. I don't care what happens to me. I never really have. But I do care about what happens to my brother. SAM Dean, we're going to that place, and we're gonna save Jack and Mom. Together. And if something happens, we will deal with it together. And if we die? We'll do that together, too.

on one hand it's like oh yeah, maybe dean is feeling the lingering trauma of what happened the last time michael and lucifer were in their lives. but also, they let so much of that slide it feels like it's just being used for convenience. but whatever. i'd rather this than no conversation at all

and damn straight, sam, everything together. dying is a little much, and you didn't get to follow through on that one anyway. read a fic the other day that was about dean being afraid once sam's blurry wife got to heaven, he'd want to leave to be with her. and they made the point that sam had almost the same amount of years with the blurry wife as he did with dean. and now i'm making myself sad again 🥲🫠 this is why i don't read much heaven fic

#supernatural #spnwatch #spn 13x20 #jay gruska #meredith glynn #sam and dean mush

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jamie-is-out-of-ideas · 1 year

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Lego Monkie Kid (Shadowpeach) Fandom Rant/Discussion:

Disclaimer: Not sending hate this is just my opinion also my knowledge on the Chinese language is vague so take what I tell you about it with a table spoon of salt. Also people are free to do what they want and I can't/shouldn't try to stop them unless it's actually hurting anyone real. Also this is an open discussion feel free to critique my opinion or point out any flaws in my argument as long as it's respectful.

my issues with fanon-shadowpeach is when it's written to completely put all the blame on one or the other (most of the time Wukong).

The other thing is when it's a family au and one is addressed as bàba (Pinyin spelling of the Chinese word for dad/father) and the other is addressed as māma (pinyin for the Chinese world for mom /mother) , if it's a genderswap thing I guess it's fine (although i have my own gripes when a character in a gay ship is gender swapped and the other isn't) it's also perfectly fine if it's like a gender thing but when they both specifically identify as men it feels wrong to feminise someone in a mlm relationship when you could just have one be called bàba and the other be bà or even use just have them be called papa or dad. I'm not sure if there's another word for dad but yeah that's all I'm saying.

I also hate when there's a fic where it explores wukong's side without actually exploring his side or when he's going through something and everyone gets mad without feeling sympathy for him.

ie. let's say in this fic, macaque and wukong are arguing, macaque gets mad that wukong chose his new friends (his jttw friends) over him and or that wukong abandoned him for Heaven the cursed fillet or the 500 years imprisonment under the mountain gets brought up. This usually goes one of two ways, they talk about their issues healthily, or wukong gets victim blamed 😐. It's like 'I actually wasn't having a good time in Heaven, they tried to kill me and they couldn't and i tried to escape but then Buddha imprisoned me under a mountain for 500 years.' and the fic either had Macaque not know that happened, or when he does know I've literally seen one that was like 'how do you think I felt when you were trapped under that mountain and tortured, that affected me way more than it affected you even though you were the one being hurt.' I just don't understand why people are hating on wukong so much. Like I enjoy when people critic his character but I hate the unnecessary over bashing, were people treat him like he's an huge manipulative ass-hole who only cares about himself when that's untrue and ignores a lot of his character. I also get that Macaque is allowed to be angry at Wukong, and also in a lot of the instances of him getting hurt he's missing a lot of the context of what happened and why. Like if you think someone abandoned and killed you for no reason you are allowed to want revenge and hate them, but also don't write him as the victim of the bad things that happened to someone else when it wasn't traumatic for him.

I also hate when people are like 'yeah one's an innocent little cinnamon roll whose never done a bad thing in his life and the other is pure evil and irredeemable and everyone hates them and everything that happened is their fault!' Also neither of them are cinnamon rolls they're both shitheads (but not in a ass-hole way in a funny way.)

Please stop, you should write them like this: 'Hey we've both hurt each other a lot and even though some of those instances of us hurting each other was out of control but it still hurt and we should work on our issues healthily and fix out broken relationship or even make a new one because we're different people now and we should move one while also acknowledging each of out mistakes and becoming better people from them.'

Also macaque dying was more traumatic than it was for Wukong, don't get me wrong I love the angsty concept of wukong being like 'please wake up' or 'i'll never forgive myself' but yeah it was more traumatic for Macaque.

Lady Bone Demon controlled both of them and though one of them was under her control longer don't make them try to one up each other, trauma ain't a competition y'all.

Moral of the story: if two dudes who identify as men adopt or have a kid together they're both the dad so call them the kid's 'dads' and not their 'mom' and dad. In a fight there's two sides to the story, someone's trauma and the bad thing that happened to them doesn't hurt you more than it does them even if that bad thing that happened to them does affect you in some way don't make it about you. Trauma is not a competition, don't one up someone when they tell you about something deeply upsetting and personal they're going through.

End of rant. Please remember this is an an opinion and suggestion if you want to make an au/fic where on of them is the worst I can't stop you and shouldn't try to since it's not gonna hurt anyone or me and doesn't affect my personal life.

#shadowpeach #fandom critique #lmk sun wukong #lmk macaque #lego monkie kid #rant #opinion #discussion #please be respectful if you are going to join this discussion

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