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the-delta-42 · 5 months

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Pulling the Trigger

Marinette nervously bit her bottom lip; her new school was a boarding school just outside of Paris. Kaalki had agreed to help her get back to the city in the event of an Akuma attack. She’d been forced to change schools after Adrien had gotten her a meeting with his father, Gabriel Agreste, one of Marinette’s idols. In the meeting, Gabriel had torn into Marinette’s designs, belittling them and mocking her choice of style, before tearing into Marinette as a person and her effects on his son and then, quite coldly, informed her that she would never have a future in the fashion industry and if she was ever near his son again, he’d be sure to have her behind bars.

So, here Marinette was, sitting in a hallway, waiting to be called into a classroom full of strangers. No pressure.

PTT

A blonde-haired girl with tanned skin, called Allegra, pulled Marinette through the halls, talking at a mile-a-minute and introducing Marinette to other students along the way.

“Claude, Allen!” Yelled Allegra, waving at a light-skinned boy with brown hair and a dark-skinned boy.

“Who’s this?” Joked the light-skinned boy.

“This is Marinette Dupain-Cheng!” Said Allegra, making the dark-skinned boy choke on his drink.

“That designer you’re obsessed with?” Asked the boy, as Allegra nodded eagerly, “I’m Allen, this wannabe magician is Claude.”

Marinette waved nervously.

“Sorry, we’re not used to being in the presence of a celebrity.” Said Claude, grinning, “Speaking of, what are your next designs like?”

Marinette winced, “It’s not, I’ve, erm, I’ve kinda been black-listed.”

The three froze.

“Um, can I ask by who?” Asked Allegra, her voice strained.

“Gabriel Agreste.” Responded Marinette, as Allegra sighed in relief.

“Oh, phew, for a moment I thought it was someone relevant.” Said Allegra, “The Gabriel Brand has really gone downhill lately, it doesn’t help that the new model keeps making Adrien look uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, she’s always like that,” Said Marinette, folding her arms, “trust me I went to school with them.”

Allegra froze, and then started squealing.

PTT

Adrien’s leg bounced as he waited for class to start. His father had spoken to him last night about how he had issued a restraining order against Marinette, as well as blacklisting her. He’d made a similar announcement at a social dinner with other fashion designers and members of the elite. His father didn’t like the fact he’d been laughed out of a room.

“Hey, dude!” Greeted Nino, Alya and the rest of the class behind him, “How were your holidays?”

“Could’ve been better.” Said Adrien, glumly.

“How’d things pan out with Marinette?” Asked Alya, smirking slightly.

“Terribly, my father issued a restraining order against her and black-listed her.” Answered Adrien, glaring at the table, “All because Lila claimed Marinette was a stalker and was crazy.”

“Lila, said that?” Asked Alya, in disbelief.

“She practically gloated about it at the photoshoot, actually,” Said Adrien, looking around for Juleka, “Juleka, I need to borrow some of your makeup.”

“Why?” Asked the Goth, frowning slightly.

Adrien pulled back his sleeve, revealing crescent-shaped scars all along his arm, “Lila got handsy and refused to let go.”

“Didn’t anyone do something?” Asked Rose, tears gathering in her eyes.

“They did, but father,” Adrien spat the word out like it was a curse, “refused to listen to anyone but his precious little Lila.”

Alya looked Lila up on her phone, dread filling her when the only result was her interview and Lila’s social medias.

“The lying bitch.” Said Alya, collapsing into her seat, “Marinette told me, and I didn’t think to check!”

Adrien glared at the table, trying to set it on fire with his gaze, “Father’s lost two of his biggest sponsors because of this.”

Alya frowned, just as Lila walked into the class.

“You guys aren’t going to believe what Marinette did to me!” Whimpered Lila, as everyone in the class glared at her.

“You mean telling us about your lies?” Snapped Alya, burning holes into Lila’s head.

“I’m not a liar!” Gasped Lila, her eyes darting to Adrien with a silent command to defend her.

“What?” Scowled Adrien, glaring at Lila as well, “If you’re expecting me to defend you, that deal only worked while Marinette was still in school.”

Lila gaped like a fish, as Adrien leaned forwards, “You do know that lying to my father made him lose two of his biggest sponsors? The Cheng’s and the Ricca’s cut their contracts immediately. The thing is, they had a little clause in their contracts that should their partnership with my father was ever terminated for whatever reasons, he would have to pay back every penny they gave him?”

Lila continued to gape, before clearing her throat, “Well, my mother is a Ricca, they’ll be back in the fold soon enough.”

“Lila, they’ve started proceedings to claim the mansion and they’re claiming all the bank accounts in my father’s name.” Stated Adrien, “Your lies have practically cost my father everything.”

“What’s going to happen to you?” Asked Nino, breaking his glare form Lila to look at Adrien.

“Father’s been under investigation, and I’ve been moved into a temporary home.” Shrugged Adrien, leaning back in his chair, “I’m not getting my hopes up about anything yet.”

Lila went pale, if Gabriel went under, she could kiss her dreams of being rich, famous and wanted goodbye. Lila’s eyes darted around the room, before she scarpered out and started to make her way home. Perhaps it was time for a fresh start somewhere else, somewhere far away from this mess.

PTT

“I can’t do that!” Protested Marinette, as Allegra stared at her with starry eyes.

“Please?” Begged the girl, forming a pout, “I can ask him for modelling tips, and you can just happen to be in the classroom?”

“That would only succeed in getting you in trouble, Allegra.” Said Felix, a blonde-haired, grey eyed boy a couple seats away from them. Marinette felt she’d met him before.

“Oh, please, Felix,” Sighed Claude, “just because you can’t meet Kitty section doesn’t meant I can’t meet Adrien Agreste.”

“Ms. Dupain-Cheng, Ms. Grey, Mr. Cadabra, Mr. Ricca, please be quiet and face the front.” Said the teacher, making the four flush.

“Sorry.” They all muttered and focused on their books.

The name Ricca niggled in the back of Marinette’s mind, trying to remember where she’d last heard it. Her Nonna’s maiden name was Ricca. Marinette’s mind screeched to a halt, and the girl’s head snapped up and stared at Felix.

“Is there anyone in your family called Gina?” Marinette asked Felix, making the boy look up.

“Yeah, my great-aunt, she travels around the world, why?” Responded Felix, as Marinette gaped at him.

“Her surname wouldn’t happen to be Dupain, would it?” Questioned Marinette, leaning forwards.

Felix frowned, before he made the connection.

“Holy shit.”

PTT

Candence Ricca jumped when the phone went off, she quickly checked the caller ID and frowned when she saw it was Felix.

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” Asked Candence, before quickly pulling the phone away from her ear.

“Why didn’t you say Great-Aunt Gina had family here?!” Demanded Felix, making Candence sigh.

“Rolland doesn’t want to be part of the family, Felix-” Felix cut her off.

“No, not him, Aunt Gina’s son and granddaughter!” Said Felix, making Candence frown.

“I thought they were still in China.” Mused Candence, as the dog ran behind her, chasing the cat.

“Marinette’s attending my school!” Said Felix, making Candence freeze.

“Felix,” Said Candence, her tone serious, “Keep Marinette with you, I’m coming to you.”

“Why?” Asked Felix, confused at his mother’s tone.

“Because we’ve been operating under the assumption that Marinette and her parents died in that plane crash.” Growled Candence, before hanging up.

Candence grabbed her coat and walked out the door towards her car.

PTT

Marinette stared at Felix’s phone. She and her parents were believed to be dead? But they weren’t. They were alive. Weren’t they? Marinette pinched herself, wincing as her nails dug into the skin on the back of her hand. Nope, definitely not dead.

“Any idea what that was supposed to be about?” Asked Felix, looking at Marinette.

“This is the first I’ve heard of being dead.” Shrugged Marinette, frowning, “Unless everyone’s actually dead and this is the afterlife.”

“The afterlife fucking sucks.” Said Felix, before looking at his phone, “Should we head outside and meet her, or should we just wait for the wardens to collect us for death row?”

Everyone stared at Felix.

“Boy, you’re a freak.” Said Claude, after a moment had passed.

The sound of squealing tyres made them look towards the window, a woman with brown hair and forest green eyes all but charged out of the car, while a chauffeur calmly started reading a book.

Felix shrunk slightly, Candence was tall and boarder line intimidating and the impassive expression on her face was usually reserved for the paparazzi. Candence stopped in front of her son and looked down at the, ridiculously, short girl next to him. A familiar pair of blue eyes stared back up at her.

“Marinette?” Murmured Candence, frowning.

“Hi?” Marinette gave a small wave.

Candence grabbed her face and looked either side of Marinette’s head. After letting Marinette go, she turned to Felix, “Wait here.”

Marinette and Felix watched Candence stalk over to the school’s receptionist. A moment later, both of them were in the back of the car Candence arrived in, while Candence was snarling down her phone in Italian. Marinette prided herself on how much Italian she’d learnt from her Grandmother, but now she was silent in shock at the number of profanities coming from Candence’s mouth.

The car came to a stop and Candence hopped out and stalked into a building. Marinette paled that the bakery, before sinking into her seat in an attempt to hide from any passers-by. Felix idly watched his mother speaking with one of the bakery’s owners, a short Asian woman who looked confused. His mother’s posture relaxed, before she calmly made her way back to the car. Opening the door, she gestured for Felix and Marinette to get out. Marinette rushed into the bakery as fast as she could, in an attempt to avoid being seen.

“Marinette?” Asked Sabine, as Felix and Candence came in after her.

“Hi?” Marinette waved.

“What’s this about?” Asked Sabine, looking at Candence, “I’m not sure I understand what you meant when you said we’re ‘supposed to be dead’.”

“You were in a plane crash, ten years ago.” Said Candence, “The majority of my family were under the impression that you, Tom and all five of your children were on board.”

Marinette frowned, “What do you mean ‘five’? The only siblings I have are Michael, Skye and Toby.”

Sabine groaned, before locking the Bakery door and leading the group upstairs.

“This is going to take a while.” Muttered Sabine, as they entered the apartment.

PTT

Adrien shifted uncomfortably as Chris ran around being chased by the twins. The rest of the class were scattered around the living room, Chloé was hugging her legs to her chest, in an attempt to prevent either Chris or the twins from touching her.

“Why are we here again?” Complained Chloé, getting scowls from most of the group.

“Chloé, you weren’t invited, you just followed Adrien here.” Said Alix, leaning back against the sofa.

Chloé huffed, but didn’t say anything.

“We’re here to figure out how to get Adrien’s dad to withdraw the restraining order and blacklist on Marinette.” Said Alya, “She’d do the same for us. Now, we need to focus on what Lila said to him and how we can disprove it.”

Meanwhile, across Paris in Gabriel’s office, Gabriel was fighting off an incoming headache.

“The Chengs and the Riccas are willing to come back to the table if you reverse you decision on Dupain-Cheng’s restraining order and Blacklist status.” Said Nathalie, standing by the door, “It would seem your attempt to akumatize her has failed. Again.”

Gabriel groaned, but Nathalie found she had little sympathy for him, “There’s also the matter of Mlle. Rossi, she’s at risk of being sued for defamation and/or slander by a number of parties. A number of Gabriel employees have now come forward and have reported that Mlle. Rossi has been harassing Adrien during the photoshoots.”

“Release her from her contract, as get M. Hayworth on the phone.” Grumbled Gabriel, as Nathalie sent the various messages off.

“Today couldn’t possibly get any worse.” Muttered Gabriel, taking his glasses off and looking up.

PTT

Hector frowned at the letter in his hand. He’d just posted his notice; he was getting too old to deal with the mayor and having to cave to his whims and wants. He hoped Arthur would accept his request.

Contrary to popular belief, he didn’t tolerate Bourgeois, any of them. He only bowed to their wishes because otherwise the school’s funding would ‘mysteriously’ get cut. But, Arthur’s school was independently funded. It had a lot of wealthy doners, preventing Bourgeois from taking full control of the school for their principle. Hector knew he wasn’t a good man, evidenced by his handling of the Dupain-Cheng-Rossi incident. He acted to hastily, due to the fact that Rossi was shaping up to be another Bourgeois. A headache within a migraine, within another migraine. Hector ignored the pain in his chest, putting his proposal to Arthur in an envelope, before getting to his feet and walking out of the school to find the nearest post box.

PTT

Marinette choked on her drink as she saw the headline on the common room tv.

Local Paris School Principal found dead

Marinette quickly located the remote, before turning up the volume.

“Don’t be bemused, it’s just news,” Said Nadja, to the camera, “Earlier today, Hector Damocles, Principal of College Francais Dupont, was found dead near the Eiffel Tower. Police are not treating his death as suspicious, and believe it to natural causes.”

Marinette stared at Damocles’ picture before it faded away as Nadja moved on to other topics she had to cover.

PTT

Arthur Coleman frowned down at Damocles’ letter to him. The Academy had been looking to expand its reach, as well as find an appropriate campus for ‘day’ students. He decided to put the letter to the side and bring it up at the next governors meeting.

PTT

“Don’t be bemused it’s just news,” Marinette idly listened to the TV in the common room, as she scribbled in her sketch book, “earlier today, Gabriel Agreste, Head designer and owner of the ‘Gabriel’ brand, formally ‘Papillon’, has declared bankruptcy. This occurred after two of his main investors unexpectedly withdrew their support after nearly twenty-five years. Neither Gabriel Agreste nor the investors were available to comment.”

Marinette stared at the TV, before Allegra dropped down onto one of the sofas, “Didja hear the news?”

“You know, you have the powerful ability to chew and swallow before you speak.” Said Felix, snapping his book shut, “But of course, you have to get the first word in, as always.”

Allegra chewed a couple of times, before getting up and walking over to Felix, crouched down to they were level and opened her mouth, showing him the mess of chewed food and saliva, “Blegh!”

Marinette internally groaned, before resting her head against her sketchbook. Claude and Allan were greeted to Felix trying to hit Allegra with his book, with Marinette curled into a ball with her hands over her ears, nursing a headache.

PTT

Adrien stared down at the pile of paper in front of him, “You mean I own everything?”

“More or less.” Said M. Hayworth, “The house, the company, practically everything your father had been using.”

Gabriel scowled as Hayworth spoke.

“If he hadn’t made that ridiculous restraining order, no one would’ve known.”

“Oh.”

“As it stands, your father made illegal modifications to your property, as well as some other, far more serious, charges.” Stated Hayworth, “Mdm. Sancoeur has volunteered to look after you while this matter has been settled.”

“Okay, what were the other charges?” Asked Adrien, making Hayworth sigh, before he cast a dark look at Gabriel.

“It came out that your father has some…connection to Hawkmoth.” Revealed Hayworth.

“What the fucking shit?!”

PTT

Ladybug skidded to a stop on the roof of the police station, before looking up at the detective, “Sorry, I’m late. I had to sneak out of my dorm.”

“You’re in university?” Asked the detective, getting a wince from Ladybug.

“No, I’ve started to attend a boarding school.” Answered Ladybug, rubbing her arm.

“And you’ve snuck out and come here,” Said the detective, slowly, “on a school night?”

“You, erm, you said you had a lead on Hawkmoth.” Excused Ladybug, looking up at them.

“Gabriel Agreste had been allowing Hawkmoth to use modified areas of his home as a lair.” Said the detective, “He’s been cautioned and is currently being questioned. We’ve also made sure to confiscate everything he had on him, minus his clothes and glasses.”

“And you want me to go over the stuff and see if any of them are a miraculous.” Stated Ladybug, getting a nod from the detective. “Okay,” Sighed Ladybug, “let’s do this.”

PTT

“Settle down.” Yelled M. Coleman, looking out at the sea of students, “SILENCE!”

Everyone went quiet, allowing M. Colman to continue, “As everyone knows, the foundations beneath our school has started to degrade and, as we are a private school, we lack the funds to repair it.” Coleman took in the faces of the students in the first few rows, “Which is why we are entering a partnership with College Francois Dupont, allowing us to continue your education while were repair and decided what to do with this campus.”

Some muttering broke out amongst the students.

“As of January, everyone will be attending Dupont.” Said Coleman, “We have been allocated dorms by Dupont, so that any students who live further away from Dupont will still be able to attend and keep with any groups they may have made or joined.”

The muttering started up again, as Coleman walked away from his podium, talking quietly with another member of staff.

PTT

“So,” Said Allegra, looking up at the school, “I guess this is the last time we can look at the dump before we go to your old stomping ground.”

Marinette hummed, “Part of me doesn’t want to go back. I haven’t been in contact with my friends there, I didn’t want to find out if they’d agreed with Adrien’s dad. I mean, I know they probably didn’t, but I didn’t want to take that risk, and I didn’t know if the restraining order covered allowed me to contact them, since there were around Adrien so much.”

“Being scared is normal,” Shrugged Claude, playing with his deck of cards, “unless you’re Felix, who has no emotions.”

“Say that again and I shove those cards right up your-” Felix was cut off by Allan clearing his throat, “rear.”

The group silently looked up at the school.

“Two and a half years.” Said Allegra, suddenly.

“What?”

“It’s been two and a half years since Marinette came here.” Answered Allegra, wistfully, “It’s been a fucking ride.”

“You can say that again.” Muttered Allan, before picking up his bag, “I think I can hear the bus arriving.”

“Thank god, I’m freezing my tits off.” Shivered Allegra, getting a snort from Felix.

PTT

Tom helped Marinette carry her bags into the apartment above the bakery, with the latter making sure she didn’t walk into anything. Marinette blinked as she tried to adjust to the darkness of the living room, after placing her bag on the floor, she reached out for the light switch and clicked it on.

“SURPRISE!” Everyone yelled, making Marinette yelp and jump a foot in the air.

All of Marinette’s former classmates, and the friends she made at the boarding school stood in front of her.

“The, the ‘surprise party’ trick,” Gasped Marinette, “is for birthdays only.”

“No, it isn’t.” Disagreed Alya, before throwing her arms around Marinette, “I’ve missed you girl.”

Marinette gingerly wrapped her arms around Alya, “Me too. I’m, I’m sorry that I haven’t been in contact with you.”

“Allegra explained everything, with the whole restraining order and phone troubles you’d been having.” Said Alya, “Adrien’s had his lawyer rescind the restraining order, but I think they’re attempting to use it as evidence in his dad’s trial.”

Marinette winced, before glancing over at Adrien, “Yeah, I heard about that. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not.” Chirped Adrien, his hair streaked with green, “I brought a copy of the restraining order. And a cigarette lighter.”

Marinette gave Adrien a small smile, before the sound of someone choking got her attention, “Allegra, you're supposed to chew before swallowing.”

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #lila rossi #rose lavillant #juleka couffaine #chloe bourgeois #gabriel agreste #nathalie sancoeur #original characters #Delta Writes

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single-malt-scotch · 1 year

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"What did you witness?" Bdubs, Limlife

Episode 7-8 spoilers. Character study. 778 words.

Making assumptions is all you can do. But curiosity can't be avoided. The clocks, the timer, the tower, your fate. Why are you hidden out of all people?

It was hard to tell, living the norm among friends. Forming a team, doing as expected. But there was no way the connection hadn't been made. It had to mean something to Bdubs. No one asked him the feeling- impending doom? Excitement to fill an unsaid role? Dread for uncertain fate? Bdubs loved acting. He loved to be out there. Perhaps it wasn't clicking yet. Perhaps he felt he could stay in the background enough to ignore the game.

He'd made his team and it was fun. It was all about the fun, it was all about the mundane conflict, it was all about laughing at broken traps- until it wasn't. Fighting was one thing but the clock was another. A symbol that had been so relevant to him. A figure he attached to himself that suddenly meant death. That was the jab, that was the hit. Bdubs was fighting the conflict of what it meant for him and everyone else. Something he had understood for so long was out of his hands. The only way to avoid the count down was to kill. That was the only control anyone could take, and it was thrust upon all of them by force.

The desperation seeps in always. Bdubs thought he'd have a sense of control, but anxiety hit every time he glanced over. Green, yellow. One hour down, one hour more.

This wasn't it. Time had a grip on him in just the way he didn't want it to. His hand driven to the blade, ignore your history, put aside your thought. He was okay losing the fight of blood, but not the fight of time. He couldn't, he absolutely couldn't.

But what else was he to do other than die? Die again, again, and again. He made theatrics of his life before, and while he was the only one to know his true intentions, he couldn't not be himself. It was typical. He'd still try is heart out even when he died trying.

What he saw was scrambling. What he heard was fear among a sea of voices. It was too much to process until heard the words burst out. Seven minutes.

You need release. You need to let go on your own terms. You're doing it for you and no one else.

Kill me.

No one has anything to say.

Kill me.

This is just you.

Kill me.

There is no one behind the screen.

Kill me.

This is all you.

Kill me.

This is your time, this is your control.

Kill me.

But then no one wanted it. No one could take the generosity and live without the guilt. He could save them, if they would just take the time. He'd found the loophole to the game. This was the way- if he couldn't beat the clock, he could make sure someone else did. He'd be an angel handing over his life to save others. To a stranger, a friend. But out of all people Etho .

And Etho did not take it. The strain in his reply made it clear to Bdubs that he needed it, but he couldn't bare to do it to his friend. No matter how he begged.

“Take it from me- take it! ”

He's leaving.

“Etho, would you please-”

My ending is slipping away.

“You can fight me..!”

I don't have time to change this.

There was no way to cope, no time to. The walls were torn down and he had his back up against the clock tower. The skynet above looked like a web branching from its center peak, a reminder of the chaos no one could avoid. His position below an ironic twist but much expected. When there was no way, you'd gravitate to the familiar.

The dread had settled like a blanket on his shoulders. Not heavy nor debilitating. Barely acceptance however, with his silent message in his head. His missing commentary. His story never truly told.

Bdubs was himself was his only witness, yet unknowing to his fate. His death seen by others and not himself. Unplanned, unexpected- just the way the game works. No chance in beating it. It was not met with sadness, upset, anger. Never a grudge against the way it went.

A lonely moment of viewing. Then reunited. Then cheering. Now too distant to see him win, but ever eager to watch him from above just like before. Bdubs hadn't won his own conflict but he'd found his resolution.

#long post #sorry no cut!!! look at my fic boy #its only 700 words #limited life smp #limited life spoilers #trafficblr #my writing

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spyrothefox · 7 months

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So I read The Superior Spider Man comic that was just released. I liked it, couldn't stop laughing though at Estrella. She was just a college student who wanted to work with a superhero then she got thrown in as a soldier. I liked her though. I was upset that this wasn't an actual return of Superior though. I saw that post with that theory that you commented on from another blogger, about how Superior could come back through the mechanical arms that appeared in TASM comics a few months ago. I thought those things were completely destroyed? But they could still come back somehow, I just don't think I like the idea of the arms that contain part of Ock's old personality influencing the original Spidey's mind and that's their way of bringing him back? Just bring back Elliot Tolliver and stop coming up with different ways of bringing back Superior. I have been thinking of how they were gonna bring him back though, so if that other blogger who came up with that idea sees this, that sounds like something they might do How do you feel if they did that though?

Oh hey there! So I just went back and checked the ending of the Doc Ock arc in ASM #30, and the arms were not in fact destroyed; it seems that uhh... Jonah decided to keep them as his pet. I really don't like how they're treating Ock's old arms as some kind of weird dog thing but at the same time make it seem like the arms contain the "good" part of his personality/some fragment of Superior Spider-Man's consciousness, even if it makes no sense? The writing for ASM has been so confusing that honestly they could pull anything at this point and as sad as it is, I've already come to expect the most nonsensical solutions. So the arms are still out there, and we'll see if they will be in any way relevant further on. Personally I don't want the arms to play into this in any way, and like you, I really wish we could somehow have the Elliot Tolliver version of Otto back because I think it was just perfect for him. If we look at the synopsis for the upcoming issues of SSM Vol. 3, we see this: A SUPERIOR RECKONING! SPIDER-MAN faces a NEW VILLAIN from his SUPERIOR past. As she fries New York with all the power of a living star, DOC OCK makes a life-changing discovery! No time travel. No clones. Just Superior Spider-ing! The sins of Otto Octavius’ past are exacting a heavy toll on the present. And one of Peter Parker’s closest friends must pay the price for them. If the secrets revealed in our last issue didn’t fill you with dread, wait till you see how this one ends. If we rule out the worst possible outcome (turns out it's not even Otto who comes back as Superior, somehow), in my perfect world it would work out like this: There is apparently no time travel or clones involved, so that only leaves magic as a solution. Naturally this makes me think of Mephisto and his deal with Otto at the end of Vol. 2, and Otto discovering the details of that deal would be the discovery/secret they refer to in the synopsis. The only way he could find out about this is from Anna Maria, who was there with him as he was making the deal, and she also probably qualifies as one of Peter's closest friends that they mention. So yeah, in my ideal scenario Otto gets a proper confrontation with Anna Maria, this makes him remember what he forgot and maybe somehow reverses the effects of the deal??? This is 100% wishful thinking and I'm pretty sure we will get something more nonsensical, if not outright disappointing. But that's my personal optimistic theory I'm going to hold onto like the fool I am lol.

#otto octavius #superior spider man #doc ock #elliot tolliver

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0thsense · 7 months

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9/30/2023

When I'm feeling down, I am vigilant to find fault in others, because it makes me feel like I have something over them. A stupid act of desperation.

The time limit is approaching. I am not doing well. What does it mean to give up? I want to run myself to death.

Could I survive losing all of my family and friends? Should I prepare myself for it? It'll slowly happen at this pace. Was I wrong about things all those years ago? Maybe I should quicken the pace.

I can't open up to anyone. Noone will understand, and everyone will think they understand. Hell, some people probably think they understand already without me saying anything. Maybe the easiest way to be happy is to presume you understand about unhappiness you've never felt.

I wanted to understand my emotions. It might be too late, because now all I ever feel is anger and frustration. Base, useless, devastating emotions.

Some girl I used to know followed me on Strava the other day. Simply because she connected her account and auto followed all of her contacts. And I held onto that for the whole day. Pathetic.

Do I feel good when I beat myself up like this? Honestly it's a little cathartic but I'm not sure if it's healthy. I spend so much time thinking about the past, it fills every undistracted moment of my life. Will it ever stop?

So dramatic for someone who has lived such an objectively easy life. I don't really believe that, more just unsure. But everyone else would surely mock me for thinking I have such insane struggles in my circumstances. So I can't open up. They'll think I'm even more pathetic than they already do. A good way to get some one time pity and then having them slowly drift off. A bad way to quicken the pace.

Maybe I just need to get better at slapping on a smile and enthusiasm, so that it doesn't take so much effort every time. Just get good at it so it doesn't take all my energy, so I don't dread it every time. Just... become an automatic liar. Perfect.

I'm not looking forward to going to Japan soon. I'm worried my shell will break over those 2 weeks. Maybe I'm even more worried that it won't. Maybe I will just be boring because I'm getting tired having to put on enthusiasm all the time. Perfect.

My legs hurt from running today. Good. I wonder if how I feel right now is accurate. If I look back on this post it will probably read pretty terribly. Have I made no progress? Perfect timing to be depressed again for the holiday season. Last time I showed up one time and they thought I was fine. Because I guess I'm good at faking enthusiasm. Fuck you.

If I think rationally about it, it's my fault. It's hard to tell when someone's depressed, and it's even harder when I've been putting on masks for my whole life. But I can't tell them either. Probably the worst cases of depression are the ones where they have noone to tell. Because they can't trust anybody to care enough. I'm doing fine everyone.

God and I hate it even more because I become so self absorbed. Making me lose one of the few things I prided myself on: empathy and thinking of others. And I kept that pride even though it became unjustified. It hurts.

Maybe I can try to think of others in this post. Harley decided she wants to move back home, because of RTO. I wonder how she feels about that. I wonder if I chose that just because it's semi relevant to me. My dad might also be kinda depressed, I'm kinda worried. Probably partly due to me.

God, I can't think of much when I try to remember caring about others recently. You don't just feel worse, you become worse. Please let me care for others again. I am an asshole. I'm not willing to sacrifice myself to help others. I find something in them to condemn and justify this. Nobody helped Jerry, and everyone sure loves beating down on him.

Endroll was a nice game.

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yhwhrulz · 8 months

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Today's Daily Encounter Tuesday, August 29, 2023

Finding Hope in God's Word

"Your word is a lamp to guide my feet and a light for my path."1

Ravi Zacharias tells the amazing story of a young Christian in Vietnam. He writes, "I was ministering in Vietnam in 1971, and one of my interpreters was Hien Pham, an energetic young Christian. He had worked as a translator with the American forces, and was of immense help both to them and to missionaries such as myself. Hien and I traveled the length of the country and became very close friends before I returned home. We did not know if our paths would ever cross again. Seventeen years later, I received a telephone call. 'Brother Ravi?' the man asked. Immediately I recognized Hien's voice, and he soon told me his story. Shortly after Vietnam fell, Hien was imprisoned on accusations of helping the Americans. His jailers tried to indoctrinate him against democratic ideals and the Christian faith. He was restricted to communist propaganda in French or Vietnamese, and the daily deluge of Marx and Engels began to take its toll. 'Maybe,' he thought, 'I have been lied to. Maybe God does not exist. Maybe the West has deceived me.' So, Hien determined that when he awakened the next day, he would not pray anymore or think of his faith.

The next morning, he was assigned the dreaded chore of cleaning the prison latrines. As he cleaned out a tin can overflowing with toilet paper, his eye caught what seemed to be English printed on one piece of paper. He hurriedly grabbed it, washed it, and after his roommates had retired that night, he retrieved the paper and read the words, 'Romans, Chapter 8.' Trembling, he began to read, 'And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him. . . for I am convinced that nothing shall be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.' Hien wept. He knew His Bible, and knew that there was not a more relevant passage for one on the verge of surrender. He cried out to God, asking forgiveness, for this was to have been the first day that he would not pray. After finding the Scripture, Hien asked the commander if he could clean the latrines regularly, because he discovered that some official was using a Bible as toilet paper. Each day Hien picked up a portion of Scripture, cleaned it off, and added it to his collection of nightly reading. What his tormentors were using for refuse — the Scriptures — could not be more treasured to Hien." Eventually he was released from prison and fled to Thailand. Today he is a businessman in the United States, a radiant Christian and a living testimony to the power of God's Word and its transforming power.2 It always amazes me to see how God meets us right where we are. There will be many times in life when we feel discouraged, and in our moments of confusion, may start to question God. We may even allow ourselves to question his existence. Allow this to be our encouragement, friend… even in those moments, God is still there. If we open our hearts in honesty to Him, He listens and responds. One thing I have learned from my personal relationship with Jesus, is the importance of hiding his word in my heart. We never know when we will face temptation, challenges, or defining moments in our life when our faith may be tested. It is in these moments we can cling to the truth of God's word and the hope found within.

Suggested prayer: Dear God, thank you for your Word. When I feel alone, discouraged, or confused, please allow me to rest in your promises and faithfulness. May my heart be filled with peace and renewed hope daily, as I spend time in your Word. Thank you for hearing and answering my prayer. In Jesus' name, amen.

Psalm 119:105 (NLT).

www.sermoncentral.com

Today's Encounter was written by: Crystal B.

NOTE: If you would like to accept God's forgiveness for all your sins and His invitation for a full pardon Click on: http://www.actsweb.org/invitation.php. Or if you would like to re-commit your life to Jesus Christ, please click on http://www.actsweb.org/decision.php to note this.

Daily Encounter is published at no charge by ACTS International, a non-profit organization, and made possible through the donations of interested friends. Donations can be sent at: http://www.actscom.com

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Phone: 949-940-9050 http://www.actsweb.org

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soscialia · 1 year

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this is a journal entry sorry :/ i felt like typing and sharing

this year may actually be the year that i take the time and intention to take care of my body, mainly focusing on functionality and mobility, but also including strength training as well. i wont lie there is a little bit of body dissatisfaction, but i am mainly motivated with the desire to not be in pain all the time, and to set myself up in the future to be able to move around more, and to just increase my body awareness in general. working from home im already taking way more time to stretch, study fitness videos by people who actually care about longevity and functionality beyond the usual fitness to look or become a certain way. ive also been eating more and eating cheaper too from home. my main body dissatisfaction lies in my chest, im hoping to have bara tiddies one day lol; this is really the only “superficial” goal I have about fitness. The thing is though, working on developing my chest muscles will also require training like all the other upper body muscle groups too, like the shoulders and back, which is where i often feel a lot of pain; i will always be a side-sleeper and nothing will change that. the pain i feel in my back sometimes reminds me of atla when azula shoots aang in the back with a bolt of lightning, i swear its like a stabbing feeling just under my left scapula and near the spine. all that to says me working towards this goal of bara tiddies will help balance out the muscle groups that i guess are currently working at the detriment of others. also i think its fine to have “superficial” fitness goals, so long as its not achieved through unhealthy or shaming ways.

i have a history with ocd, anxiety, and depression, and have recently been diagnosed with adhd (stimulant therapy has been life-changing) and since that diagnosis, ive noticed the other symptom/complexes(?) have diminished in severity so much. this was extraneous information to set up me saying that my relationship and process regarding goal-setting has always been very strenuous, taxing, and frustrating my whole life. i have a weird strain of perfectionism too where it prevents me from even trying to attempt things sometimes. i suck at goal-setting and beginning new habits; i think i actually love the prospect of beginning a new habit, the part that fills me with dread is coming up with how to keep up with progress, and i guess the creation of sub-goals, or working out concretely how to achieve the goals. part of this is that my schedule for existing for the past near decade has been so inconsistent for the sake of “adaptability” that any goal i try to set, or even if i figure out a (somewhat) detailed itinerary, my work schedule or school schedule would always work against me; not to mention being in the throes of untreated mental health issues and near-constant interpersonal conflicts. now that i have a normal person big-boy salaried job, and im adjusting fairly well to the 8-5 shift, i have a lot of hope in myself that im going to be able to keep up with my goals, however ill-developed.

this applies to fitness goals, personal development goals, career-oriented goals, AAND most frustrating goals involving my hobbies. as soon as i got hired at my job, i began reading three books (Conflict in Not Abuse by Sarah Schulman (which is incredibly relevant, interesting, and therapeautic to read, although there are blunders throughout, even just within the first three chapters), For Each Other: Sharing Sexual Intimacy by Lonnie Barbach, which was published in 1971, and is geared towards women, but the author makes a surprisingly progressive forward by saying anyone could learn something from this book, regardless of gender, and admits her limitations due to lack of research about lesbian relationships. She does a good job summing up the common causes and sources of intimacy issues, although focused around heterosexual relationships, I have resonated with a lot of what she has said thus far. Lastly I started reading Love by Toni Morrison, which is probably going to be the most challenging read, because I am not good at reading fiction. I remember...not a lot from reading Beloved in senior year of high school, but i remember liking the style that Morrison writes in, and it being emotionally taxing to read. I also need to continue the Animorphs series because I really fell off with those back in september.

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seven--secrets · 2 years

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Stop! In The Name Of Love! || Shigure || Trial 5.3 || Re: Yumeko, Riley || Attn: Yumeko

There was so much going on here, it was difficult for Shigure to figure out what even to address first. With Kaz's explanation, it confirmed all of her concerns. She could understand why Kaz was hesitant to bring that up, considering, well, all of it. It was a serious choice to make, and one now that everyone would have to keep in the back of their heads as they continued trying to figure out what the truth was. It was motivating, sure, but it also might encourage even more lying and deceit. Was this an improvement over knowing nothing? Shigure wasn't sure, but she would at least rather know now than later.

Riley's hug was only a brief comfort. It filled her chest with warmth and ease, but it was almost immediately replaced by a sense of dread and unease when Yumeko started to speak.

Everyone else was trying to explain why it couldn't be them, or in Yuuto's case someone he cared about, so why was Yumeko trying to make it sound like them? Surely they couldn't really believe that, could they? Their explanations, while plausible, just sounded like way too much of a stretch to her ears. Maybe that was just her rose-tinted glasses, but there's no way she would accept that explanation.

"Just because some of the pieces fit doesn't mean it's from you, Yuyu." Even if it was all from them, would that really be such a thing to worry about? Their injuries from that time... they weren't fatal, were they? Surely they weren't meant to die then. If it was just a death of personality, then...then... No. It didn't matter. Their heart may have fractured then, but they weren't responsible for this. "Earlier, you mentioned when your hands got all cut up, you said you didn't know what they were from. That it could've been from a knife, but I don't think so. Maybe if we'd seen a kitchen knife, but I have a hard time believing a middle schooler could get their hands on a switch blade. Those are illegal to carry in Japan, so I don't know where they would've even bought one. And even if they did, being stupid enough to bring it to school when they were friends with that elitist bully? Boxcutters and scissors and razorblades are one thing, but if they were caught with a switch blade in school, they'd definitely be expelled, so I don't think that knife is relevant to you."

"And furthermore, contracts may be important in folklore, but there's never been any indication that it'd be important to you, either as Yaldabaoth or Yumeko. When you told me about Yaldabaoth, you never once mentioned anything involving contracts. So while the onryo could have just done something to fit the aesthetic, I really doubt it's something just that surface level."

She had to stop to take a breath. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. She hated seeing their face clouded over like that. They were struggling. She could tell how much pain they were in, so why? Why did they keep going?

"Yuyu, please, I..." Her voice trailed off into nothingness at the end, with her hair spilling over her face. Only Yumeko would be able to read how her lips ended that sentence.

"There's still the pen, isn't there? That has nothing to do with you, Yuyu. I don't think I've ever seen you with pink anything, so there's no way that's yours. A-And...um, there's still...there's still..." There was so much more, but it was difficult for her brain to latch onto something. She couldn't think like this.

#ran #chapter 5 #trial 5 #submission

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pechebeche · 2 years

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so quick test fic repost to see if putting up fabriz fic again brings down the dreaded Attention TM on me. here’s the fabriz enchanted au i forgot i wrote and then fell back in love with when i reread it tonight

The sequence of events that led to Riz Gukgak, PI, choking back tears in a random librarian’s bathroom is a long and complicated one, the gist of which can be summed up as such:

1. Dragons are real.

2. One ate his dad.

3. Riz might not be as staunchly aromantic as previously thought.

The first two have very little to do with his current situation, except in that they begin to sort of explain the fucking whirlwind adventuring insanity his life has become over the last week. And, he supposes, also explains the random librarian a little bit. It was less about finding a random librarian and more about finding Spyre’s magic oracle and her personal guard, who had gone missing on the streets of New York City. That a random librarian had taken them both in with seeming perfect belief in their story, and that the three of them now moved around each other as if they’d lived together for years instead of days, is less relevant, but still sticks out.

The third is a little more immediately important. But it’s also stupid. It’s really, really stupid. Riz had already started working it out before Captain Fabian Seacaster Fantasy Magic Pirate fell through his window and ruined his damage deposit, but he had certainly been doing a better job of Not Thinking About It. There were missing people, after all.

Missing people that he should be in the main room asking the girls questions about. But instead, he’s in here. In a bathroom. Not-crying.

He’d been so stupidly excited to find the Oracle, finally – partially just for the rush of finding a lead, and partially because Fabian was bouncing off the fucking walls in excitement over it. “You and Adaine will love each other, The Ball,” Fabian had said, matter-of-fact, as they swung into the base of the fancy apartment building that morning. Fabian couldn’t be convinced to leave his scabbard at Riz’s place like a normal fucking person, but Riz had convinced him to at least wear some modern clothing instead of his gaudy pirate garb. He fills out a suit really nicely, in a way that makes Riz’s face feel hot. “You’re both – smart, and, and you pay attention to things, and you talk to people the same way.”

“You should pay attention to things,” Riz had said, scrolling through the notes on his phone to figure out which apartment number they were looking for precisely. “What do you mean, we talk to people the same way?”

“You know, poorly,” Fabian dismissed, and Riz had laughed as he reached to buzz up to the apartment-goers.

It had been so good. Comfortable. They had a – a banter, something that was teasing but kind. Riz…Riz only started feeling this way about people very recently, and it’s the first time he felt like – maybe, stupidly, maybe it’s not just him, maybe there’s –

“We don’t know where Aelwen is, either,” Adaine had said primly on the couch across from them, sipping tea and stroking Ayda’s hand under her own.

“Aelwen?” Riz had asked.

Fabian was making frantic cutting motions across his throat where he thought Riz couldn’t see – motions which Fig, who had much less armor than Fabian led him to believe, had completely ignored, chirping, “Fabian’s betrothed! And Adaine’s sister. She’s kind of a bitch.”

There had been a moment of silence. “Oh,” Riz had said. Winced. And then, “Sorry to impose – do you have a bathroom? I think I might’ve reopened my stitches earlier today, and I almost forgot to check them.”

It’s just so stupid. Riz – should’ve known better. Fabian’s been talking about this fucking make believe land of happily ever after he comes from, and magic, and how he’s gonna go back and live out his dreams. Of course – Riz knows what fairytales are about, of course there’s a damsel in there, of course Fabian’s got a girl waiting for him at home, and he didn’t, he never, why would he…

Tears have started trailing down his face, hot, despite himself, when he hears a knock at the door. “Riz?” Fabian calls through the door, tentatively, and Riz’s stomach drops, because this is the last fucking thing he needs right now.

“I’ve got it,” he calls back, desperately willing his voice not to waver.

Fabian tries the handle – meets the door lock. “Is your wound alright? I do have a small amount of healing magic, I would be more than happy to look at it, you don’t have to be in pain – “

“Fabian,” Riz says through grit teeth, wiping his face off on the back of his sleeve, “just…just leave me alone for a minute.”

There is a short silence. Riz wonders, for a moment, if he actually has left. “…just let me look?” Fabian says through the door, and his voice is soft and aching. “…please?”

Riz sighs. He scrubs a hand over his face and rustles his own hair in an attempt to make it look less like he’s been crying pathetically in a stranger’s bathroom over his first crush. Then he walks over and opens the door.

Fabian looks surprised for a moment, but it quickly fades into a frown. “Well, my word, the Ball,” he says, pushing Riz into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him, “the first step to checking the wound is to actually look at it. What have you even been doing in here?”

“I don’t – “ Riz sighs and lets Fabian push him up to sit on the sink, obediently raising his arms so that Fabian can tug his shirt off. He’s gentle, with the way he pushes Riz around, tender even in his authority, and it makes Riz’s eyes prick again, blush deep across his face and down over his shoulders. He takes a deep breath and tips his face up to keep himself from crying, again, and wills his trembling stomach to remain still as Fabian runs a careful thumb over the stitching.

It’s intimate – too intimate. Like a few nights ago, when Riz had stumbled into his kitchenette bleeding out from the chest and snagged his first aid kit from the cabinet. When Fabian had walked in on Riz trying to stitch up the claw marks no doctor would recognize, had taken one look at Riz’s shaky hands and the needle and the blood stained into his fingers, and had set him down on the counter, had taken the supplies in hand and told Riz to breathe. Fabian’s fingers, now, running over the seam of the wound he’d tied up, is too close to Fabian carefully pulling Riz’s skin together, faces too close, whispering, “Have you always done this for yourself?” and looking at Riz with something like loss when he nodded.

Riz’s hand shoots out onto Fabian’s shoulder – for balance – as he runs his thumb over the scar Riz is slowly forming. “It doesn’t look like anything broke,” he murmurs, tracing the pucker of Riz’s skin over his stomach and up across his chest. Riz shivers. “Does it hurt? Are you okay?”

Riz means to answer, truly, to tell Fabian that he feels fine now and they could move on and get back to doing what they’re supposed to. But instead Riz leans his head back against Ayda’s bathroom mirror, swallows, and says “Why didn’t you tell me about Aelwen?”

Fabian’s fingers go still, for a moment, where they’re tracing the planes of Riz’s chest. “…it didn’t seem relevant,” he says, eyes sternly rooted to his own hands.

“Bullshit.” Riz’s stomach turns. Abruptly, he finds himself wanting to slap Fabian’s hand away from him, where his thumb has started rubbing careful circles into his side. Wants to get rid of it and lean into it all at once. “You talk about home all the time. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Fabian sighs. After a moment, he stills his own hand. Riz’s breath catches as Fabian leans in, presses so their foreheads are not-quite-touching, so that Fabian is smiling at him a little ruefully. “Would you believe I just didn’t want you to know?”

“Why not?”

Fabian’s eyelashes flutter. Riz can track them, this close – the way that Fabian’s mouth parts, just a breath, the way his eye stay firm on Riz’s, the way that he doesn’t blush on his face but the tips of his ears do go just a shade darker, impossible for human eyes to see. “I…” Fabian sighs. The hand on Riz’s wound reaches up as if to cup his face – Fabian catches himself, a moment before, fingers tightening on his own palm to avoid what is almost a caress. Riz’s breath is blown completely out of his stomach. “I…don’t know why,” Fabian admits, in a whisper. “I just…didn’t.”

“What did you think would happen?” Riz says, and finds that he, too, is whispering, like there’s some little bubble aside from both the fantasy and real worlds they come from, like there’s a little space just for them that he’s terrified to disturb.

Fabian bites his lip – Riz tracks the movement, tracks the way Fabian swallows, the way Riz can almost feel his breath, this close to Riz’s cheek. “I – I didn’t want. For you to stop…” His eyes glance down to Riz’s mouth, back up, quick, and Riz’s heartbeat picks up. “I didn’t want you to stop looking at me like this. I didn’t want to stop…”

Riz doesn’t know when the hand on Fabian’s shoulder came to curl around the back of his neck, just knows that it’s now close enough for him to press up and do what Fabian wouldn’t, to caress the side of Fabian’s face with the full length of his palm, to watch Fabian’s breath catch, his eyes flutter closed, watch him lean into Riz’s hand.

“I’m not stopping,” Riz whispers, tremulous and afraid and just a little bit determined.

“Riz,” Fabian whispers, leaning in, and Riz’s heart stops when Fabian kisses him.

#fabriz #VERY CAUTIOUSLY SHIP TAGGING #gonna leave this up overnight and if theres no one calling me slurs in my askbox by tomorrow this experiment is a Success!#i really was so motivated and creative and happy reading the stuff i used to write makes me Feel Something #i do miss them despite everything #my writing #disclaimer might take this off tumblr and just go w the google doc thing if having it up causes too much anxiety #first and foremost taking care of myself

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

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Could I request a Jaskier x female reader where the reader is a princess who during daylight, is condemned to be a bear, after being cursed by an evil sorcerer At night she become a human again. Which the curse can only be broken by a man (who would be Jaskier) who pledges his heart solely to the reader (something like true love’s kiss). Please and thank you!!!

Bruin

jaskier x reader

masterlist

Warnings; mentions of witcher killing, mentions of death and angst, curses, nudity, some fluff, implied smut

“G-Geralt.” Jaskier’s voice shivered, as he saw a great mountain of brunette fur, wading through the long grass, heavy breathing exhibiting from its wet snout. “There’s a bear!”

“If you’re that scared, try to speak quieter.” The Witcher’s speech remained monotone, as he continued walking, leaving the bard to catch up with his hardy footsteps. “We need to leave before nightfall, that is when the true monster is unleashed from the bruin vessel.”

“You kill monsters, we’ll be fine.” The bard waved off, though he was terrified, and Geralt was all but convinced with his dismissal. “We will, won’t we Geralt?”

“It’s bad luck to remain out here at night, it’s an old wives tale, however, no one survives the night out here. Not after the disappearance of the princess of Arafell.” Jaskier remembered that tale, he had even seen the princess at a banquet once when they were both young in age.

Neither of them had the opportunity to converse with one another that evening, it was the night she had ran away. and he certainly had regretted never asking her dance. Before that though, they had often strode through the gardens hand in hand, conversing on the beauty of the petals that veiled around the stems, and she, unlike most people, listened to his descriptive forms of poetry. Back then, he had been shy, and not to mention, she was of sought after royal blood. That evening was the last that anyone from the kingdom had ever been seen, after the slumber of eternity wept over their souls. One thing he severely remembered though, was that she loved dandelions.

The princess had ran away, leaving the king and queen in search of someone that could find her, and thus they hired a private sorcerer to complete their wishes. But instead of seeking out the lost girl, the old man took the gold and the lives of old, wallowing the land in distress that clambered into a delving of madness.

A shout bellowed from the bear, and Jaskier found him to “How long will it be til we reach the borders?”

“The bad luck will loom over us Jaskier, we will not make it out of here in the span of the next countless hours. There will be a moon in the sky, but perhaps we’ll be able to seek out cover in the old guard’s tower.”

“Where are we Geralt?” The brown haired poet feared to be met with the answer “What makes you think that we’ll survive the night?!”

“This is what remains of Arafell.” Stated the white haired hunter, as he continued to plod through the thick foliage beneath his dark boots. He stepped on the dull green life form, not encouraged to pursue any further into the depths as he heard the destination that they were travelling through.

“Arafell, great.” Huffed the irritating bard, clutching his lute as he spoke the haunting name. “There’s no need to be afraid, when you’re in the land of torn bodies, because the witcher is by your side. He’ll slash and dice, protect the mice, from the darkness that falls from above. The people are dead, I am filled with dread, in the land of Ar-afellll.”

“Stop singing.” Whenever there was any fault present in their adventures together, Jaskier had a tendency, wallowing similar like a pie without filling to sing. It shrouded Geralt with epitomised frustration, his betrothed follower sure knew how to pull his strings, it was as though he were a moral lute, a practice run of socialisation for the noble’s son.

“Sorry.” Apologised the traveller, with a shrug encompassed by a spark of coldness affecting his posture. There was a breeze, filled with the pinching of icicles in the air, and it clawed through his clothes, clashing with the meat blanketed warmth of his bones. “It’s just- we’re in bloody Arafell, or what remains of it, and you are so calm. Have you maybe perhaps forgotten what happened here?!”

“No. I was here when it queen Ara and her kingdom fell. And that bear has lurked every inch of these demolished castle lands searching for scraps, and if you cannot tell, it is almost night fall, and she has come up sufficiently short of anything, for all these decades.”

The listener frowned, bears did not live so long. It was a curious prospect, it remained loyal to these grounds, although it was empty. There had to be a reason why, a pattern that supposed why it, or she as Geralt had divulged, remained to lurk in the midst of the overgrown forestry. And then another thought (yes, Jaskier had the ability to do that despite what his protective travel mate may have wondered), hit him, like a bolt of lightning.

“Um, Geralt, where is the bear?” He gulped, hearing the rustling of the thick foliage metres behind them. The moon scourged the sky with its global presence, inducing another shot of ambient fear through Jaskier’s veins. “It was-“

“Shut up a moment.” It was almost impossible half the time to silence Jaskier, but this time, he actually obliged the command. Geralt drew his sword, the one that glistened a predominate silver and was made from the compound, clutching the handle in his vice and skilled grip, as his feet took him closer to the imposter that was imbedded within the weeds.

“Oh.” Jaskier covered his eyes, he couldn’t look as Geralt pointed the weapon at the beasts throat; a whimper escaped it as Geralt took a step back, alerting his companion. “Kill it Geralt, it’s a bear, it’s going to kill us.”

“It was a bear.” Geralt elaborated as he watched the beast transform and lose its course coat of brown fur, turning into a less monstrous beast. It was only a girl, with unruly and wild hair that was matted in all directions, her face contorted into fear. “Of whom are you, my lady?”

“A witcher.” It trailed from her lips as a whisper, her tone alerting Jaskier that it indeed was not a bear, rather it was a woman, laid on the forest ground, in nothing but her own layers of skin. His eyes widened for a moment, until he earned an elbow in the rib from his friend for his long and convicted ogling. “I have only heard legends but...

“You speak english?” Jaskier wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, hinting at his subsequent misunderstanding of the situation. “but you were a bear?!” This was all growing more confusion with each passing second, there were too many angles of the world.

“I’m cursed.” It was an easy consequence to admit, for the lady of the worlds already lived through them. “Each day, I am forced to pad about in the brute body of a bruin, a sorcerer brought by darkness himself to this dimension damned me to this abomination, his name was-“

“Lament.” From hearing that name, the woman on the ground was taken aback as the women, trying to prevail some decency, attempted to cover her breasts with her arms, as she crossed her legs over one another. “Your parents sent me to find you, lady. I came up empty handed in my search for you, there was no trail that I managed to find, nothing that would point in your direction. And that night, as I returned with short of nothing of any news of your whereabouts, Lament was there.”

“He killed them all, didn’t he. My family?” The answer didn’t require any verification from Geralt, the solemn, yet usual expression on the Witcher’s face was all the confirmation that she needed. “Of course he did, he’s a poisonous shadow, when he finds something he wants, he takes away its home, so that it can’t run back to the hearth whence it came from. I regret every running away from home...”

“Wait a moment.” This was all beginning to add up in some mind boggling way. Jaskier flitted his gaze aside for a moment as Geralt pulled a fine blanket from his luggage, knowingly seeing the movement out of the corner of his curious eye that she was pulling the material that conducted warmth over her shoulders, and across her sachet of flaunted skin.

"Shut up Jaskier." Instantaneously stated the bard, whom had returned his cerulean gaze back upon the y/h/c woman, depositing a composition of interest to her form.

"You're the princess of Arafell, aren't you. Y/n, it's you, isn't it?" Y/n's expression was one of shock; how did this man know of her identity? She understood how the witcher did, though with considering he was condemned with the duty of finding her. The brunette man was slightly familiar, and so he revealed why that was. “it’s Julian.” Jaskier held his hand to his chest, almost hurt that you didn’t recognise him, but it had been years, so many, none of which had been kind to you. “My name is Julian Alfred Pankratz.”

“Dandelion!” The reprised title spun from y/n's tongue, remembering the nickname that she had given the now gentleman all those years ago, when he was nothing more than a persisting boy that made her flash an unashamed laughter in the midst of poised quality showrooms of noble gatherings. "I remember you." She dwelled on the fact, if she weren't clothed in only a shrill and frayed blanket that was pebbled with small dots of soil, from where it had been laid on the ground, y/n surely would have jumped up and spun her arms around his 'sexy goose' neck.

"You've got to be kidding me, it is just my luck that the pair of you know each other." Geralt crossed his arms, shaking his sleek silver head, being deprived of attention as he spoke. "Is there any way to get yourself out to get you out of this prospected curse of turning into a bear, y/n?"

"To be betrothed to a man, confirmed with a kiss resonating true love, though, nobody with any sense would put themselves in that position for me, there is no wealth to my name anymore, nor is there relevance with my heritage, for there is nothing that remains, as you have confirmed for me. This man must certainly be one of a kind, for he has to pledge his loyalty solely to me, forbidding himself from ever being with another woman again."

The mention of a lack of sense reminded Geralt of one man in particular, and he was stood right beside him. But it couldn't have been Jaskier, of all people, and- Geralt found himself overcome with dread as the bard stepped forward, crunching his shoed feet into the withered grass, closer to the rediscovered princess.

"I have waited my whole life to see you again." Oh god, here he went, Geralt thought. "When we were younger, I was infatuated with you, and here we are, united again in a union. If my betrothal means nothing then you will remain in this shrine of gloom, but to me, it would mean everything to me."

"Y/N come on, have some sense, it-" There was lack of reason for Geralt to continue speaking, as y/n sprung up, the blanket flowing down from her shoulders, baring her body cold to the crisp air, as her hands clasped both sides of Jaskier's face, and pressed her lips to his.

The witcher cringed, turning away as the pair practically ate the other's face, like starved animals that had been distanced for many years, which in their case was true. "Do you know if the curse is broken, is there any indicator if so?"

A hum fell from y/n's mouth as Jaskier's hand traced the curve of her spine, causing Geralt to scoff. That was the only response he earned, and to a high stake, it disgusted him. "I think I'm just gonna let you two have some time to yourselves, I guess we will see in the morning if you're being mawled by a bear you flippant."

And thus he walked away, leaving the two to pursue their primitive instincts, under the blessed moon, and on the routed curfew on the dark and dead land of Arafell.

#jaskier imagine #jaskier x reader #jaskier x you #jaskier fluff #jaskier fic #jaskier oneshot #jaskier x y/n #jaskier imagines #jaskier one shot #jaskier fanfiction #Jaskier reader insert #the witcher x you #The witcher jaskier x reader #the witcher x reader #joey batey x you #joey batey x reader #the witcher fluff

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wolveria · 3 years

Text

Inside Your Wires - Ch 6

Pairing: Human!Connor x Android!Reader

Series Warnings (18+ only): Eventual smut, slow burn, fantasy bigotry, violence, brief noncon elements, angst with a happy ending

Chapter summary: Connor gets his new assignment. He's not thrilled.

AO3

Story moodboard by @uh-kitty-got-wet

Chapter 5 art by @semains (18+ only)

November 6th, 2038

Saturday 09:56AM

There was a time when Connor didn’t have to come in on Saturdays. He remembered the days when mandatory overtime was few and far between.

Not anymore. 2038 seemed to be the year shit just kept happening, and now that he thought about it, quite a few of it seemed to be because of androids. Ones gone missing. Disobeying orders. And now, homicidal.

Connor rubbed the bridge of his nose after putting his car into park, regretting how enthusiastically he’d hit the bottle last night. It wasn’t too bad this time, just an annoying throbbing behind his eyes, but it made it more difficult to see and he’d had to squint through his windshield.

Whatever. The reason for his shame-drinking was no longer relevant. Connor just had to survive until lunchtime, and if he were lucky, Hank would let him go early. He tried not to itch at the butterfly bandages on his cheek, applied himself after he’d woken up in a haze with blood on his pillow having completely forgotten the injury existed.

Connor kept his head down as he walked through the lobby of the station and through the security checkpoint to the bullpen proper. He tried not to be completely antisocial, however, and sent weak smiles at the coworkers who bothered to notice he was there.

Helen, Alexander, and Rupert all acknowledged him with various degrees of warmth, some colder than others, and all pretty much deserved. Ralph gave Connor a nervous smile from his chair, though it quickly faded as his eyes flickered to something across the room.

Frowning, he followed Ralph’s eye line across the bullpen and scowled when he spotted Colin leaning casually against Connor’s desk, talking to… someone. He couldn’t see who, Colin’s figure blocking them from view.

Against his better judgement, Connor drew closer, pressure building at the back of his neck, an uneasy feeling of dread that increased with each step.

“Con’s just gonna love this. But seriously, if he bitches about it too much, or gives you a hard time, you can always partner up with me. I won’t mind one bit, promise.”

Connor would have rolled his eyes at his brother’s typical cocksure demeanor, but instead, he went stock still at the familiar voice that answered.

“While the offer is appreciated, Lieutenant, my instructions stipulate that I must assist Detective Anderson with his new, specialized caseload. I’m sure you can understand that CyberLife only wishes to cooperate with the DPD and does not want to interfere with police procedure—“

“What the hell are you doing here?”

The YN800 model blinked and turned its head to meet Connor’s eye, its little blue light blinking for a moment before solidifying again.

It was sitting in Connor’s chair.

“It’s good to see you again, Detective,” it answered, chipper as ever as a fake smile graced its features.

Connor looked the prototype over, his nose crinkling at its appearance. The suit must have been brand new, there were no stains or bullet holes, and her—its hair was once again pinned upwards into a perfect knot.

He felt his insides churn at the near slip, at thinking for even a split second that this thing was a person. Shoving down the crude thoughts of the night before, Connor gave the order through gritted teeth.

“Get. Up.”

The prototype did as it was told, for once. It rose out of his chair, not even having the decency to look chagrined as it straightened its jacket of nonexistent wrinkles.

“I’m sorry, Detective, but I tried to call your phone and left you a message. It was not my intention to surprise you—“

“Oh, no, it’s never your intention to do anything, is it?” Connor snarled back. His headache was in full force now, and he swore he could see the bright lights of the station brighten in time with his heartbeat.

“Aw, c’mon!” Colin slapped him on the shoulder. “Be nice to the temp.”

“Temp?” Connor answered, voice pulled as taut as a wire.

“Yeah, you know. The temporary assistant. The new girl. The—“

He shoved Colin’s hand off his shoulder, leveling a glare at both of them. Colin merely shot him a shit-eating grin while the YN800 stood there, hands clasped behind its back at parade rest, polite and perfect as ever.

“Connor!”

All three of them turned toward the voice booming across the room.

“Get in here!”

Connor glared at the android, as if Hank’s shouting were its fault, which was probably the case.

He turned without a word and stalked to the captain’s office, shoulders hunched as his heart raced and his hands shook at his sides. He let the glass door fall shut behind him, but when he didn’t hear the whoosh of it close, he glanced over his shoulder to see the YN800 had followed him inside.

Great.

Connor stood in front of the desk with his arms crossed.

Hank sat down in his chair, pointedly looking at the chairs in front of his desk. Connor remained standing.

The older man glared, answering Connor’s attitude with a look and a heavy sigh.

“Bet you’re wondering what that’s about.” Hank jerked his chin over Connor’s shoulder. The prototype had taken a spot at the back of the office, observing politely with its hands clasped in front of its hips.

“Yeah, I am.” Connor was a little too cranky this morning to try a more diplomatic approach. “What the hell is it doing here?”

“I’ll get to that. First on the docket, I got a shit ton of android-related cases filling up our database every day and I’m at wit’s end.” Hank took a deep breath, bracing himself as he met Connor’s eye. “Which is why I’m assigning all of these cases to you.”

“You’re what?”

Connor stared at him, dumbfounded.

“You think that case last night was a one-off? We’ve got more android-related crimes rolling in, including assaults and homicides just as bad as the Ortiz case, and right now, you’re the one with the most experience.” Hank leaned his elbows on his desk as he leveled a formidable glare his way. “Is that going to be a problem, Connor?”

“Yeah, it is a problem, Hank! Why the hell do I have to do this? What about Colin? He was with me at the crime scene and was there for the interrogation!” Connor shoved a finger at the glass wall to prove his point.

Hank’s jaw tightened. Connor had seen that behavior enough times to recognize how he was pushing his luck.

“CyberLife asked for you specifically.”

“What?” Connor blinked, dumbfounded once again, racking his brain but coming up empty. “Why?”

“The hell if I know!” Hank barked back, rising to his feet as he pointed a finger at Connor, “and frankly, I don’t give a damn. Colin’s got enough on his plate—“

“—and I don’t?” Connor interrupted, scowling. Hank sighed and rubbed a hand down his face, and Connor almost felt guilty for his outburst.

Almost.

“That’s not what I said.”

“But it’s what you implied.” He tried not to sound like a hurt child, but, well, that’s exactly what he sounded like.

“For fuck’s sake, Connor! There are more people that are gonna start dying from this!”

“Yeah, I know, but—“

Hank lifted his hand, palm forward, effectively shutting Connor up.

“You saw what one of those deviants was capable of last night, and that was with three of you and another android trying to get it under control! You think the average person stands a chance against one of these fucks? That a little ol’ grandma can defend herself against the murderous robot gardener coming at her with a pair of shears? What the hell happens when a nanny bot decides to take a human kid for itself? Oh, wait, that’s already happened, and you would know that if you checked the goddamn case files I sent you!”

Connor was silent as Hank deflated. The older man leaned back against his desk as he looked through his glass wall out over the bullpen. His voice was rough but much quieter for the next round.

“We’re totally in the dark, Connor. We don’t know how bad this is gonna get and how many androids we’re dealing with. This has the potential to turn into a fucking nightmare with Detroit as ground zero.” Hank’s gaze drifted over Connor’s shoulder to the elephant, or the machine, in the room. “CyberLife was gracious enough to send us a state-of-the-art prototype until this issue is contained. It’s gonna be your partner until such a time that these androids are no longer a threat, and then you’re free to go back to being a misanthropic son-of-a-bitch as much as you like.”

Connor was thoroughly shamed by the end of Hank’s speech, that old familiar feeling of disappointment making his gut roil with nausea, but his anger hadn’t entirely flagged. He clenched his hands tightly to his thighs, fingers desperate for either his coin or his cigarettes.

Connor hadn’t felt the need for one in months. This was bad.

“Hank,” he tried again, his voice soft and pleading in that way he knew Hank couldn’t ignore. “I’m not saying this just to be a pain in your ass. I understand the stakes, but I genuinely believe I’m not qualified for these types of cases. I’m not a CyberLife technician, or an AI specialist, or a computer engineer. I’ve never even owned an android.”

That last one was technically true but only in the barest sense, and Hank gave him a knowing look. It wasn’t without sympathy, and his own answer was given with more kindness than he probably deserved.

“I know, Connor. I also know you’re the sharpest pair of eyes on the force, not to mention the quickest brain and the best instinct. You see shit other people don’t, even Colin, and you’ve got this creepy knack for taking one look at a person and knowing what makes ‘em tick. I’d say you’re almost like an android yourself, but I know how much that’d piss you off.”

Connor gave him another narrow-eyed scowl, and Hank immediately put up his hands as a sign of surrender even as a smirk played on his lips.

“My point is, I need you on this, son. I know it’s not ideal, hell, it downright sucks, but I know you can do this. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.”

And there it was. As effective as Connor’s pleading expressions could be, they were nothing in comparison to his need for Hank’s praise. The old geezer knew it, too.

And throwing a “son” into the mix was a goddamn dirty move, but Connor couldn’t even muster up annoyance. He just sighed, gave Hank the smallest hint of a smile, and said, “All right. But only until these cases are solved. Once the deviancy issue is addressed, the prototype is going back to CyberLife and you never give me an android case again.”

“I’ll pay for the postage to ship it back myself,” Hank said, smile wide and pleased as he patted Connor on the shoulder before returning to his desk. “And I want daily reports on the progress you and your new partner are making. Gotta make sure CyberLife’s best is pulling its weight.”

“I can assure you, Captain Anderson, I am worth every penny. And considering it took a small fortune to build me, I—“

“Yeah, yeah,” Hank interrupted the prototype, using that catchphrase that Connor and all of his brothers had picked up years ago. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

The android blinked almost comically before giving a slow nod. It then turned to face Connor, straightening its back at attention, and he rolled his eyes. He was still being handed the shit end of the stick, but he couldn’t deny that the cases were piling up and Hank really did need the extra help.

But why, out of all the androids in the world, did it have to be one like that.

Exhaling sharply through his nose, Connor turned and left Hank’s office, not waiting to see if the android would follow, knowing with a sinking feeling, it would.

Next Chapter

#connor x reader #human!connor x reader #human!connor x android!reader #connor x android!reader #inside your wires #my fanfiction #my writing

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hawkinsschoolcounselor · 3 years

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El and Morality

I don’t know about the rest of you, but the latest teaser left me with a feeling of intense dread. We see these kids playing in a seemingly carefree manner, but then Brenner comes walking in. He greets them, and they obediently respond. They’re all very used to it by this point, and they all call him Papa. He claims to have something special for them, but then we cut over to El’s isolation room and hear Brenner asking her if she’s listening.

Why does this fill me with dread? Mainly because the previous teaser showed some similar images to what we see in this one. The 8-ball, for example, is shown on one of the monitors, only it is covered in blood. It leads me to believe that something terrible happened that day. With Brenner asking if El is ready, then the shot of who appears to be El opening her eyes as if from a nightmare, has me wondering if he used her for something that resulted in the deaths of the other kids.

It’s by no means the most likely scenario for this teaser, but it’s where my mind went. The eerie music, the heavy breathing (ostensibly El’s), the fear on El’s face, it sends an ominous message. Is El remembering something from long ago? Is this a new group of kids in Brenner’s new facility? Is it just a nightmare fed with fear and guilt since she couldn’t save anyone? I really don’t know, but the idea that El may have been used to test the “worth” of the other subjects led me down an interesting road. Whether it was a “training exercise” gone wrong or a deliberate “culling” of the weak, I can’t shake the feeling that El did something that she desperately doesn’t want to remember.

If Brenner intended to use these kids to his own ends, then they should hold no allegiance to anyone but him. Emotional attachments to anyone else would be a risk in his eyes. They would need to have total, unquestioning obedience regardless of what he may ask them to do. For El to be the tool he wishes her to be, she would need to not think twice about killing. Brenner would have instilled in her, and the others, a need to garner his approval. This is why he teaches them to see him as a paternal figure instead of a doctor or teacher. We’ve seen him try to get El to kill a cat, but she refused. This upset him. Yet, we also see her have little issue killing in other circumstances. She’s somehow developed a sense of morals despite being manipulated from birth.

Morals are an interesting phenomenon. The entire concept of right and wrong really is subjective when you think about it. It’s a very abstract concept, and the way we think about it changes as we mature. However, it is also heavily influenced by external sources. In this case, Brenner would seemingly have total control over how his “children” learn to evaluate the morality of a given situation. I’ve previously spoken about El’s mental development, and how Brenner would have wanted to nurture certain intellectual domains, but restrict others. Here I want to discuss a similar process with the psychology of morality. Specifically, we will explore how El may have been manipulated into doing something that we, as viewers, would find horrific, yet come to develop a system of morals in spite, or perhaps because, of that.

Lawrence Kohlberg conceptualized the development of morality as coming in 3 levels (Pre-Conventional, Conventional, and Post-Conventional), broken down into 6 stages . These stages are more or less cumulative, as previous stages help pave the way for later ones. There’s no clear-cut ages for these stages, but level 1 generally encompasses early childhood, level 2 is later childhood and adolescence, and level 3 adulthood. The first level contains the more “primitive” or basic moral frameworks, obedience/punishment driven and self-interest driven. This is a level defined by a more egocentric understanding of the world, as it revolves around what’s “good” being what results in a positive consequence, and what’s bad being what results in a negative consequence. For children, this means learning what’s “good” as a result of an external reinforcer(i.e. “Papa) and then developing this into a sense that it can be used for a mutual benefit (”If I do what Papa says, he will be happy, and I will be rewarded.”). Since it’s still a stage defined by self-interest, there is no loyalty here, and such relationships will deteriorate once it is no longer beneficial.

This may have been Brenner’s fatal flaw. Most individuals wouldn’t move onto the Conventional level until adolescence. While these kids may have had some basic sense of loyalty to “Papa” since it’s possibly all they ever knew, it would still be easily shaken. If you offered these kids some candy, they’d probably do whatever you said unless there was enough fear preventing them from doing so. Fear, not loyalty. El was afraid of Brenner. She may have done his bidding for a long time, but it was because his approval meant better treatment, not because his approval was of value in and of itself.

Given El’s age when she escaped, she was on the cusp of adolescence. Thus, she may have been developing some early features of the 3rd stage, which we can call the “good boy/girl” stage. Here, a person would want to be considered “good” for its own sake, and would look to society for what that means. For our purposes here, Brenner and the lab could have been attempting to be the “society” that the kids would judge themselves with. They would evaluate the morality of an action based on how the others would judge them for it. This is possibly where Brenner wanted the kids to be, only with no concept of what good or bad is beyond what he instilled in them.

That may have been something of a clumsy explanation of the relevant stages of morality, but I didn’t want to get too technical. The important things to take away from this is that El’s sense of right and wrong would have largely have been defined by what resulted in her being happy and/or rewarded. She may have wanted Brenner’s approval, but only because it meant good treatment. The problem here is that El may have been getting her needs met elsewhere: the other kids. If we presume, for the sake of argument, that El developed friendships with the other kids, then we could say that these relationships interfered with the total control that Brenner would want. If she gets older and starts caring more about how they feel about her than how Brenner feels, then his power over her weakens. This is where things get potentially scary.

Let’s say Brenner noticed this happening. El is the most promising, and most dangerous, of his subjects. He must maintain total control over her. However, she is very friendly with the other kids, running the risk of developing attachments that would lead to a more conventional morality. So, Brenner sets up a scenario. He isolates El for an extended period of time, possibly even telling her that the other kids accused her of misbehavior. He tells her that they don’t care about her like he does. El, being in those early stages of moral development, starts to see them as bad since they result in her being hurt. In a real world situation, one kid would be able to do something nice for another in this situation to smooth things over, but this isn’t possible with El in isolation. Then comes the day when Brenner has “something special” in mind for the kids. He’ll see if they’re worth the time and effort, while also finding the extent of El’s obedience.

None of this means El is a bad person, as we will generally see kids acting with such selfishness. One kid gets mad at another for stealing their toy, but fifteen minutes later they’re playing together as if nothing happened. However, kids generally don’t have superpowers they can use instead of pushes and mean words. There’s also usually adults around to help mediate such issues, whereas Brenner would probably want to encourage it to ensure they wanted his approval and his alone.

It’s possible that whatever happened that day changed El and Brenner’s entire dynamic. Whether El was responsible for what (possibly) happened or was just made to witness it, it didn’t have the desired effect for Brenner. We later see El reluctant to kill unless it was to protect (or punish). It’s still unclear where that moral distinction came from, but it suggests that she no longer saw Brenner’s approval as beneficial.

What happened after Brenner walked into that room? Why did he ask if El was listening? Is a present day Brenner asking if present day El is listening while she was remembering/dreaming? Or is the voice a past Brenner asking if past El is listening to his instructions?

Now, this could all be nothing. A good teaser will try to get us hyped up without giving anything important away. The “are you listening” might not even be from that scene at all in reality, or it could just be for the teaser. Still, I thought it a good opportunity for an exploration of morality in someone raised from birth to be a tool or weapon.

Something happened somewhere to make El believe there were right and wrong times to hurt or kill someone, and I just think this may have been a pivotal moment. I think we first see her kill (or at least serious injure) when she breaks out of her isolation cell. That can be explained by her still largely being in the first level of morality. Being in that cell was not in her own best interest, and she reached a point where she didn’t see a way to improve her situation. She may not have intended to kill the orderlies, but it was also not of concern to her. However, we also see her be more deliberate with Troy. First, she merely makes him wet himself, which is a remarkably clever solution. Later, she breaks his arm, but it appeared to only be due to him holding a knife as she simply knocked James down. When it came to the agents or the demogorgon, though, she was prepared to kill again. When she went with Kali to find one of the Lab men, she was ostensibly prepared to kill him until she realized there were kids around. The only pattern I can really see is that she will kill monsters or adults, but she’s reluctant to harm (at least seriously harm) kids or leave them without a caregiver.

I feel like this shows her being caught in between Pre-Conventional and Conventional levels of morality. She’s still largely going off of her own self-interest, but she’s also starting to consider the thoughts and feelings of others, namely her newfound friends. El seems to really want to keep them safe to the point that she risks her own safety. One could say that their approval, particularly Mike’s, is of value to her. She wants them to see her as good, and she attempts to conceal anything that would make her seem “bad” in their eyes, such as the fact that she’s messing with the compass or the fact that she opened the Gate.

We don’t really know how much time would have occurred between the event I hypothesized from the trailer and when El breaks free of the Lab. It’s possible that something happened there to get El to see some sort of moral distinction. She will prank, or even disable, a kid, but she somehow sees serious harm or killing of them as wrong. This leads me to believe that she harbors some type of guilt from her time in the Lab. It could be survivor’s guilt, especially if Brenner made her bear witness to the other’s being hurt or killed. It could also be something far worse if Brenner compelled her to hurt or kill them herself. Regardless, something happened somewhere along the time to get her to no longer as seeing her life in the Lab as “good,” leading to her escaping.

I think this is another one of those posts that got away from me, but hopefully I got my point across. If I try to hard to edit this thing, it’ll never get posted. Again, I have no idea what the teasers are suppose to mean, but they got me started on this train of thought. If you made it this far, then I apologize for those minutes of your life that you’ll never get back.

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #eleven #martin brenner

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dreadfutures · 3 years

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aight let‘s talk ao3 tags again

the very nice tag wrangler I’ll be quoting from has given me permission to share their kind and thorough responses (all bolding/emphasis is mine) without identifying information. and we very nicely go through some of my own tags from my long fic Dead Pasts, Dread Futures. Many, many thanks to this wrangler for explaining so much to me.

Anyway. I present these discussions as a peacable offer of: these are many writers’ concerns, and they are valuable, and worth considering. don’t dismiss concerns about the tag limit off hand, and don’t insist that edge cases don’t matter.

tldr; at the moment, after all this discussion and back and forths and bullying, I still believe that having 75 tags, period, as the limit across ALLCharacters/Relationships/Fandoms/Additional Tags penalizes longfics. Period. If it were even a limit of 100 tags, or broken down by Tag Type, it would be a little more forgiving. For advertising and for content filtering purposes, it only helps writers and fic visibilty to be specific and thorough in tags. A limit like this just so clearly has the potential to negatively affect large fandom/large ensemble/long fics.

It feels like this decision is being very broadly based on a "for the majority" mindset, which has never been what AO3 is about, without actually physically looking at the kinds of fics it will affect. The tag system on AO3 has been able to give fic filtering and reader-judgement a nuance that no other platform has accomplished, and longfics and large ensemble fics still, I think, depend on that as both a courtesy and necessity. I saw the rough math someone did and know that almost all fics currently on AO3 are <25k or something like that, and sure, for the average oneshot, or for even a fic <100k, a tag limit that's very strict across all tag categories probably won't be felt at all. But it's clearly something that people who write certain types of fics, and take them very seriously, will feel. Like I genuinely don't want to have a million tags. I want to tag relevant content that allows potential readers to filter & include & exclude my fic as they so choose, but also, if it does show up in their search, I want to give them the information they want to be able to decide if they want to read my fic or not. I don't want to have to put all my content warnings into a giant summary, or into a giant author's note that grows and grows. The tags have been a very helpful way of accomplishing those. Being able to cut down on parallel/synned tags is great, but it still seems like longfics that deal with multiple fandom entries, large casts, and require content warnings will butt up against that limit very quickly.

tag limit discussions:

- long fic writers adding tags as they go

- writers of franchises with many installments and ensemble casts

- writers with extensive content warnings

- use of tags to clarify a filtered tag

- use of tags to demonstrate how content is handled

off the bat - stop being jerks

look, I know objectively fics don’t need to be tagged at all. I lived in the wild west, too, when “lemon” meant anything from the merest mention of arousal to an explicit vanilla sex scene to all out dead dove craziness. a large part of me still is of the opinion that readers should just read shit, and if they decide they don’t like it, just dip. but that’s not what we’re about here. tagging is a kindness that we voluntarily undertake, and it’s also a form of advertising.

tags are useful for their specificity, for filtering and exclusion purposes

(that’s one of the cruxes of the arguments both pro-shippers and antis make: you can filter things! But you can only filter things if they’re tagged.)

I also understand that a few asshole writers have ruined this for all of us by purposefully adding so many tags it slows down the site and makes pages fail to load and hides other fics because the tags take up 10 pages. i also am frustrated with kinkmemers who just have prompt fill fic dumping grounds that span multiple unrelated fandoms and are impossible to navigate.

...the answer is not to suggest to writers that we put all our content warnings and pairings and etc. in our summaries, or our A/Ns, or to insert a first chapter that is a placeholder summary/tags page/world state. tags are useful for their specificity, for filtering and exclusion purposes.

I also have been dealing with people being murderously angry, and super self-righteous and targeting and mean about my own tags, and tags in general. people who are anti-tag are being giant fucking dicks about it. like get over yourselves and let’s just talk about a website function lol. tags are useful for their specificity, for filtering and exclusion purposes.

THE ANSWER IS NOT TO GET RID OF TAGS.

Alright, so now that we’ve gotten that flippin’ straw argument aside.

The next thing anyone has been doing is going to my page and critiquing my tags. Let’s address redundant tags.

(the wrangler has done this nicely! no ridicule necessary!)

using my fic as an example:

If you tag your fic Female Lavellan/Solas (only), it will show up in the following searches: Inqusitor/Solas, Female Inquisitor/Solas, Lavellan/Solas, Female Lavellan/Solas. If you tag your fic Inquisitor/Solas (only), it will show up only in the Inquisitor/Solas search and in none of the others. If you tag with the most specific version, it will show up in the more general versions, but not the other way around. So there's no real reason to tag with the more general tags.

Though I will point out that if you don't use the canonical tag and tag your character or relationship with a custom name it will be synned to the nongendered version, because at some point the DA wranglers decided that they didn't want to make gender assumptions. So "Annabelle Lavellan" will be synned to "Lavellan (Dragon Age)" rather than "Female Lavellan (Dragon Age)", and someone searching for works with specifically "Female Lavellan" won't see it.

Response: In the fanfic writers server I'm in, we've talked about how tags work and are supposed to work extensively in the past. There's just always been a lot of confusion, which I think has been added to when people go and try to double-check for themselves and find instances where this treeing/synning is broken. Someone put out this guide (also here) for AO3 meta text this year, which has been referred to by multiple people in the server, and it says:

What if you wrote a fic for something where there's a movie based on a book, but the movie's really different, and you've used both things that are only in the movie and things that are only in the book? In that case you either tag your fic as both the movie and the book, or see if the fandom has an “all media types” tag and use that instead of the separate tags. If the fandom doesn't have an “all media types” tag yet, you can make one! Just type it in.

“All media types” fandom tags are also useful for cases where there are lots of inter-related series, like Star Wars; there are several tellings of the story in different media but they're interchangeable or overlap significantly, like The Witcher; or the fandom has about a zillion different versions so it's very hard, even impossible, to say which ones your fic does and doesn't fit, like Batman. Use your best judgement as to whether you need to include a more specific fandom tag such as “Batman (Movies 1989-1997)” alongside the “all media types” fandom tag, but try to avoid including very many. The point of the “all media types” tag is to let you leave off the specific tags for every version.

Which I believe is in direct contradiction to guidance to use the most specific tags, so that's definitely one source of confusion. The most recent ao3 meta text guide (https://archiveofourown.org/wrangling_guidelines/2 I think this one) doesn't present itself in a way that makes this clear for writers tagging their own works. The way authors usually go about tagging things (and what's in the FAQ) is to start typing into one of the boxes and look for what populates the drop down, which doesn't lend itself to knowing that there are trees, or knowing what tags are interrelated (it seems like a whole grab bag of tags get suggested, some in-fandom and some outside of fandom, some canon/parent/meta and some children/random freeform, in just about any field you start typing in).

I'm not sure what can really be done about this. Many of us have turned to ao3-comment-of-the-day and their posts about using Tags, and various sources on google, and have clearly come up with a whole load of conflicting advice.

Fundamentally, finding parent/meta tags for a tag as you’re tagging a fic is NOT clear to writers. The fact that a nested and a meta tag can both be suggested one after the other when filling in tags largely contributes to redundant tags.

Writing for Multiple Fandom Entries

Here’s what a tag wrangler had to say about my fandoms:

As with the relationship tree, you can look at the fandom tree here: https://archiveofourown.org/tags/Dragon%20Age%20-%20All%20Media%20Types and see how the fandom tags are related. Going back to your story Rogasha'ghi'lan as an example, it's tagged with Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: The Last Court. But as I said, you only need to tag with the lowest relevant level(s) on the tree in order for your fic to show up under the higher levels. So if you tag with Dragon Age: Inquisition and Dragon Age: The Last Court, it will show up not just under those categories, but also under Dragon Age (Video Games) and Dragon Age - All Media Types. And of course because you've tagged with the specific, if someone searches under, say, Dragon Age (Video Games), but doesn't want Inquisition or Last Court fic, they can use the exclude filter to show only the earlier games.

(So that's two more tags you can remove with no effect on searchability!)

In my (but not only my) own case, I am indeed writing for Origins, DA2, Inquisition, and Last Court extensively within the same fic, so I should be tagging for all of those, specifically, still. In order to make sure my fic is seen by the correct fans, I need multiple specific tags.

Longfic Tag Bloat (adding tags as you write a fic)

And like many other longfic writers, even if I narrow down my character tags only to those with dedicated character arcs longer than 5 chapters, I still have Loads & Loads of Characters (including Dalish from the Chargers!).

A lot of longfic writers I know add characters, relationships, and content warnings as they go along.

At 170 chapters/580k words, Dead Pasts had a ton of important relationships (for example, like Vivienne & Lavellan), and as a story it's nowhere near done. I found myself planning an arc from 171 onward that would introduce a very important relationship (Felassan & Lavellan). This is how longfics end up with so many, many, many character tags and relationship tags, which is another major criticism people seem to have about "people who abuse tags."

A solution that people propose online is "split your fic." Which is actually what I ended up doing...but the old relationships and fandoms from DPDF still apply to Rogasha'ghi'lan, so Rogasha'ghi'lan will have the same number and more tags than DPDF.

If I hadn't split the fic, I would have just kept adding tags to Dead Pasts...and still had the same problem of continually adding tags. They're not superfluous tags: someone who wants to see a plot that is deeply influenced by Vivienne & Lavellan will find that in my fic; someone who is looking to see a major Felassan & Lavellan friendship grow and drive plot will also find that in my fic.

My fic is long; there are other fics that are longer, or are going to be longer, with casts that are just as large or larger, with many relationships, and that's not even talking about content warnings.

Polycule / Relationship Tags

"Tagging a polycule like Iron Bull/Dorian/Lavellan requires four tags: Bull/Dorian/Lavellan, Bull/Dorian, Bull/Lavellan, Lavellan/Dorian"

This assumes that people who like Lavellan/Dorian will want to read Iron Bull/Dorian/Lavellan, which is often not the case. If your story Is Iron Bull/Dorian/Lavellan, tag it that way! It doesn't make any sense to me to tag with the pairs as well unless the story would be of interest to people who read for that pair, or unless that pair relationship is a big step in the story (like, if you have established Lavellan/Dorian, and then they bring in Bull, you might tag for both that pair and the trio). I mean, you can tag how you like, there's no requirement that tags correspond to content. But for me, personally, if I search on Dagna/Lace Harding (I am weak for dwarf women!) I do not want to get a Dagna/Lace Harding/Sera fic.

My personal tastes don't include poly fics, but several writers I know who write poly fics are adamant that: tons of readers will not know of the possibility of the poly fic until it shows up in a search result, and the individual relationships often are significant to the fics, especially in fics that are not oneshots. For example, a great number of "fav fics" are stumbled-across! We aren't interested in the Sera/Dagna/Lace polycule ourselves, but someone might not have considered it, found it, and said, "Hey! That's my new favorite." But if polycules are segregated and only searchable by the polycule itself, alas, what's the option for visibility at all if not tagging it as Lace/Dagna in addition?

Additional Tags

Knowing when something is a "character" and when something is "additional"

Knowing that "Warrior Lavellan" (or the [Name] Mahariel) would be more useful in an Additional Tag vs. a Character Tag is also something I'm not sure how we're supposed to know? Like, I'm glad to know it now, but it's definitely not at all obvious without you telling me why it would be more useful in Additional vs in Character. Especially when to me: Warrior Lavellan is a character, and the fact that it populated the Character tag for me says that it's a Character. Because like I said, the guidance has been: start typing, and if it appears in the drop down, use it. Or, for example, my friend has the Well of Sorrows personified as a Character. Like an actual character. Does that have to go under Additional Tags, or as a Character? How do I know?

Additional tags as tone/content indicators

A lot of writers / readers have approached the Additional Tags as a surface-level overview of understanding how an author is approaching many topics concerned in the fic. Like, Vivienne is a character in my fic, but specifically I am Vivienne-positive, which I feel is important to denote because she's important to my fic, and she's a divisive character. Mood/tone/theme indicators like "Pro-Vivienne" or "we are Vivienne-positive in this house" (or like Male-Female Friendship, or "Expansive Lore" vs "Lore - Freeform" which denote different things to me) in tags (which in the comments section on the ao3 blog post get derided as "chatty tags") are still important to me, though they're useless or far less likely to be used for filtering. (I had the thesis of the conflict of my fic: “empathy is the enemy of free will” “but hope is a choice” as “chatty tags,” among some that were more mundane but important: “sera shows up late in fic”)

More seriously, there are fics that have content warning tags for filtering purposes but also clarify those content warnings to give context to readers and allow them to make a decision whether or not the content actually fits their preferences, ie, one that specifies domestic abuse as a tag (which would be in the Additional Tags) for filtering purposes but also specifies "domestic abuse not present in x relationship" (which would also be in the Additional Tags, but is useless for filtering purposes, but is immensely helpful and demonstrably used by readers to decide if they're going to even bother reading the author's note of that fic).

People are also nervous that not being able to thoroughly tag content warnings is going to end up with unhappy readers amid all the purity culture flaming that's going on lately.

Like, personally I err on the side of "suck it up, reader, and just read and find out," for a lot of things (not talking about content warnings, but talking about mood/tone additional tags), but also, given that there is already a venue here to let readers know what they're in for...taking that away sucks.

I hate a giant fic summary as much as people hate 10 pages of tags, but at least one can hide tags in their preferences, and likewise the thought of starting a fic up front with a giant author's note that gets continually updated with content warnings also isn't super appealing. Leading with a giant author's note that lays out: this is my world state and this is my character's spec and this is my character's background so you know how I'm going to approach this and these are all of the content warnings for the fic as a whole, just feels like getting into "My Immortal" territory. There's definitely a balance to be had between the art of writing a summary, what to include in an author's note, and what to include in tags, but this still seems like it's going to be fairly limiting for writers in these large franchises, especially for longfics that span a lot of topics.

Like I genuinely don't want to have a million tags. I want to tag relevant content that allows potential readers to filter & include & exclude my fic as they so choose, but also, if it does show up in their search, I want to give them the information they want to be able to decide if they want to read my fic or not. I don't want to have to put all my content warnings into a giant summary, or into a giant author's note that grows and grows. The tags have been a very helpful way of accomplishing those. Being able to cut down on parallel/synned tags is great, but it still seems like longfics that deal with multiple fandom entries, large casts, and require content warnings will butt up against that limit very quickly.

#ao3 #ao3 tags #long post #writing #look i really don't want to engage with anyone else but the amount of dimissive takes #and bullying #i see on my dash / have been targeted by / my friends have been targeted by #when we're trying to be conscientious?#is ridiculous #i'm just going to leave this here

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thunderon · 3 years

Note

O knowledgeable one, as someone who isn't Christian and is not at all interested in God and has zero understanding of biblical references why is the name Wake significant?

*looks around* who, ME??? i don't know about "knowledgeable" but i do have fifteen years of bible school under my belt and dated a catholic girl for like 3 years so i'll give it a go. im hardly the first person to do analysis on wake's name, but i have yet to see someone specifically talk about “wake” and “the sleeper” and all the biblical implications behind it so i guess i'll do it. i personally made a few extraneous connections that i haven’t seen examined anywhere so im going to hit on those right now. this isn’t so much a theory post as it is filling you in on some background of specifically the biblical significance of wake’s name.

buckle up anon because you are about to see the result of what happens when you ask a lesbian who was put through 15 years of church about the Bible.

first things first.

as it’s been previously pointed out: Awake These Valiant Dead is a Shakespeare reference from Henry V, but that’s only one line. i think people are missing the biblical reference from Henry V.you can read the full page here if you are so inclined (x)

but before line 138, where Wake's name is from, we get this excerpt starting on line 121:

“For in the Book of Numbers is it writ:

“When the man dies, let the inheritance

Descend unto the daughter.”

Gracious lord,

Stand for your own, unwind your bloody flag,

Look back into your mighty ancestors.

Go, my dread lord, to your great-grandsire’s tomb”

this has some major implications, so let's unpack it.

as a non-christian, you are probably asking: what is up with the Book of Numbers and why do you think it's important?

basically, the Israelites were held as slaves in Egypt and were liberated by this guy named Moses. Moses is tasked with taking the Israelites to the Promised Land (which is basically a paradise where God said the Israelites can go and live). the book of numbers is recounting this journey to the Promise Land. in the bible, the Israelites find the Promised Land, which is called Canaan (hmmm where have we heard that name before?). the Israelites send 12 spies to scout the land and the spies come back and report that it’s “overflowing with milk and honey” (i bet you’ve probably heard that phrase) but there’s also these giants living there. the Israelites get too scared to take the land, which pisses off God and he goes “fine. y’all can die in the wilderness then. this land will be for your next generation since u guys wanna pussy out”. okay that’s not verbatim but it’s the gist. the book of numbers eventually ends with the Israelites needing the cross the Jordan River and the Promised Land is left for the next generation to inherit. obviously muir draws on these aspects from canaan house and the river in her books. now back to the quote i pulled from Henry V and Wake's name:

“For in the Book of Numbers is it writ:

“When the man dies, let the inheritance Descend unto the daughter.”

this i think the daughter is referencing gideon (the daughter of both God and Wake). as to what exactly her “inheritance” is... i think we’ll have to see. but the closing line:

“Go, my dread lord, to your great-grandsire’s tomb”

well, all im saying is that tombs have kinda been a bit of a big deal with these books.

side detour (im going somewhere with this so bear with me)the book of Numbers immediately followed by the book of Deuteronomy. now why is that relevant? Deuteronomy and my gal, Judith Deuteros.

The book of Deuteronomy is basically a shit ton of laws for Christians. which Judith is the exact personification of. she literally spends all of her appearances in gideon the ninth arguing for order, the following of Imperial Law, etc etc. now in the book of Dueteronomy, an interesting order is given. starting in Deuteronomy 12:29, the worship of Canaanite gods is forbidden and the order is given to destroy their altars and to execute the Canaanites living in Canaan. this parallels Judith in Canaan House killing teacher and wrecking the place. i think Muir foreshadows that Judith will play a pivotal role in AtN. in the bible, there is actually a woman named judith, who i think is the namesake of our judith. the actual Biblical Judith kills an invading commander via beheading him. originally i assumed this was meant to be Teacher, but from Judith’s defiance of BoE in AtN, im not so sure. and at the end of AtN, Marta says “she’ll give them hell” which i think really means something. but i could go on about that but i’ll stop here.

now back to your original question about wake. an interesting additional name for wake that i think carries additional implications is when ortus dubs her “the sleeper”. biblically, the relevant quote is Ephesians 5:14:

“Awake, sleeper,

And arise from the dead.”

this is just so in your face ya know? commander awake, the sleeper, rising from the dead. im sure you get where im going with that. now. with that being said i’ll talk a little about the non-biblical stuff. i was a massive Edgar Allen Poe fan growing up and so i immediately picked up on Muir's references to Annabel Lee, The Sleeper, etc in HtN. the closing lines from The Sleeper are as follows:

“Some sepulchre, remote, alone,

Against whose portals she hath thrown,

In childhood, many an idle stone—

Some tomb from out whose sounding door

She ne’er shall force an echo more,

Thrilling to think, poor child of sin!

It was the dead who groaned within.”

now. that is the second quote about wake that references a tomb and now we have the mention of a sepulchre. THAT has some motherfucking implications. especially because in the poem “Annabel Lee” she's famously said of having a “sepulchre by the sea”. John refers to Alecto as Annabel Lee and harrow describes the tomb on the ninth as follows

“Beyond the doors there’s just the rock,” she said. “The rock and the tomb surrounded by water...The water’s salt, and it’s deep, and it moves with a tide that shouldn’t exist. The sepulchre itself is small, and the tomb...”

again. IMPLICATIONS. i know there’s also the argument that this is all a decoy and Anastasia is the body on the first etc etc. i still don’t know what to think. these are just all pieces of a puzzle ive been holding onto and think are neat so im sharing them with you. i know this is just a hot mess of everything but that’s how i operate sorry. feel free to ask more questions and i would LOVE to answer anything for you :)

#asks #the locked tomb

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cupidhaos · 3 years

Text

desk buddies

pairing: bambam x female reader

word count: 2.3k

genre: fluff, slight angst, slice of life

summary: bambam would soon come to realize, that his ‘annoying desk buddy’ would be one of the most important people in his life

warnings: none

a/n: i was listening to cherry by rina sawayama when i was writing this and that fact is honestly not relevant to the fic at all i just wanted to tell everyone that they should listen to it too

[part of my What is Love? series]

for most of his life, bambam kept his circle close. he never thought that he needed anyone else other than yugyeom in his life. the two boys had known each other since they were young - being the other’s first friend and all. all throughout elementary school, he had never found it necessary to reach out to anybody else. i mean he and yugyeom had each other - why would he need anyone else?

“you know - you should try to make friends other than me.” yugyeom told him one day on their way from school. it was only a couple more months until they would start middle school.

bambam frowned from where he walked by his best friend “why? if i have you then why would i need anybody else?”

it was yugyeom’s turn to frown “isn’t it better to have someone other than me though?”

the other boy just huffed in response “it’s not like you’re making any effort in making other friends either. besides, everyone else is irrelevant anyways. i don’t need any other friends if they’re just going to leave in the end and go off with someone else.”

the frown on yugyeom’s face deepens as the two of them walk in silence for a while. “i mean… that’s true… but you know i’m not good with making friends! at least you can talk to others.” yugyeom speaks up after time passes. bambam just rolls his eyes at him.

“if i have you then there’s no point in needing anybody else.”

the first day of middle school, bambam felt his world stop. him and yugyeom - for the first time since they have met each other, were now in different classes.

“i know it sucks bam, but it can’t be helped” yugyeom tells his friend who continues to stare at the sheet of paper listing their classes in disbelief. bambam didn’t know how to respond back as he just continued to look at the paper as if it were going to change the harder he stared.

before he knew it - he was sitting in his class filled with unfamiliar faces. he wondered how yugyeom was doing and was dreading the rest of the school year as he stared out of the window - an uninterested look on his face that made everyone avoid going near him.

‘see yugyeom. this is exactly why i don’t reach out and try to make friends. everyone here is all fake and irrelevant anyways. none of them even want to look my way and they’re all avoiding me anyways. who needs anyone else-’

bambam’s angry inner monologue came to a stop as he heard movement coming from the seat next to his. he looks up to see a girl setting up her materials and putting her stationary into the desk next to his. his eyes drift to a familiar wand-like pen peeking out of her pencil pouch.

“... sailor moon?” he accidentally slips out. the girl follows his gaze towards her pen and her eyes widen. she hurriedly shoves the pen back into her pencil pouch as her face visibly reddens. “what? no! haha i’ve never watched sailor moon in my entire life i have no idea who that is at all and it’s not like i’m a fan that i’d buy her merch or anything what? i mean - why are you peeking in my desk!”

bambam watches her ramble on with a confused look on his face. he had no idea why she was talking to him and why she was even defending herself in the first place.

‘wait - why was she accusing me?’

a frown takes up bambam’s face as he met her eyes. “i wasn’t peeking in your desk! you sit right next to me it’s in my vision!”

“well maybe you should keep your eyes on your own desk!”

an offended scoff leaves bambam’s lips at the comment. who the hell does this girl think she is?

“well maybe you should have better taste in anime!” “excuse me?!”

“you heard me! sailor moon sucks! she can’t even beat naruto!”

a loud and offended noise leaves her lips once she hears the comment. she clenches her fist angrily, neither of them noticing the attention of the classroom slowly being shifted towards them.

“not true at all! sailor moon can beat naruto’s ass in seconds!”

“nuh-uh!”

“yuh-huh!”

“y/n! bambam! is there a reason the two of you are arguing in class right now?”

the pair both turned towards their teacher with wide eyes before pointing an accusing finger at the other.

“she started it!”

“he started it!”

that was how the two of them were sent into the hallway on the first day of middle school. the two classmates stand on opposite sides of the hallway as they sit against the wall with their hands above their heads.

bambam looks over towards the supposed ‘y/n’ who sits there with a pout on her lips he feels. a tinge of guilt in his chest as he looked at her.

‘maybe i should apologize…’

“... naruto is still better than sailor moon” he mumbles.

and that was how they got into another argument for the second time that day.

after their first encounter - the two would get into arguments daily. since they were also desk partners, it was inevitable for them not to find something to fight about. whether it was y/n’s eraser shavings accidentally finding its way onto bambam’s desk - or it was bambam’s elbow accidentally bumping into y/n while she was writing, the two always found a reason to fight with the other.

over time though, arguments had turned more into friendly banter and teasing. y/n even began greeting him outside of class instead of the typical death glare that the two would share with each other if they saw the other during passing periods.

“you’ve been acting different” yugyeom says one day as the two were hanging out at his house. bambam looks up from his homework with a confused expression on his face “different? how?”

yugyeom just shrugs as he continues writing out the math problem on his worksheet. “i don’t know - you seem much happier and you’re even more talkative.”

bambam feels his eyes widen at his best friend’s observation. “i… have?”

the other boy just nods as he looks up at him with a mischievous smile “you have, is it because of that girl you’re always talking to in the hall?”

bambam feels his entire face heat up at the question and gives yugyeom an incredulous look. “what?! ew! y/n?! that’s so gross like i’d ever like her!”

the smirk on yugyeom’s face just grows at his friend’s response “i never asked if you liked her”

seconds later bambam has yugyeom in a headlock as yugyeom laughs loudly at his best friend’s behavior.

after that comment, bambam tried his best to shake off the happy feeling he got when he was around y/n. the two of them weren’t friends - he didn’t want to be her friend, was what he continuously tried to convince himself. it even came to the point where he tried his best to ignore her and isolate himself from the other.

another day passes by as he did his best to ignore y/n. but y/n was never one to back down easily.

“psst… bambam…!” she whispers from where she sat next to him. bambam just ignores her though as he continues on with doing his work. y/n pouts at the lack of reaction before trying again. after being ignored a second time she gives up.

bambam sighs in relief internally as he realized she was probably thinking of giving up of attempts to be her friend.

‘i’m really not surprised. this is how it usually turns out.’

seconds later though - a folded piece of paper makes its way onto his notebook. bambam stops what he’s writing and slowly turns to look at y/n with an unamused look on his face. y/n is turned away from him though as she looks into the other direction. her eyes slowly go to look at him and she gestures at the folded paper with her head. with a tired sigh, bambam opens up the folded paper to read the contents inside.

stop ignoring me >:(

was what was written in the paper. bambam rolls his eyes and y/n watches from her side view as he writes something down. he folds the paper back up and slides it over to her desk.

i’m not ignoring you. why do you even care.

bambam could hear her huff angrily and the sound of rapid writing next to him. the paper is then thrown back onto his desk.

um maybe because i’m your friend STUPID -_-

his eyes widened at the message. she considered him… a friend?

i never said we were friends. now stop bothering me.

okay well too bad because we’re friends now so tell me why you’re ignoring me

we are not friends. i hate you go away.

oh so you’re the tsundere type ~ well that sucks because i’m not going anywhere! ^u^

just leave me alone!!

`3` you’re so cruel T__T but fine, i’ll leave you alone for now - bestie ;P

bambam turns away from y/n as he reads the last message, he can hear snickering from behind him though as his face begins to turn red. the paper is quickly snatched out of his hands though before he could even respond. he turns around to face y/n but pauses once he finally gets a good look at her.

y/n looks at him with a playful smile as she teasingly waves the note at him. it was like the light around her glowed as bambam looked towards her and he felt a warm feeling rise up in his chest.

‘did she always glow like that?’ he wondered. the moment was cut short though as the note is quickly snatched from y/n’s hand. the two look up at their teacher who gave the two of them an unamused look.

“passing notes in the middle of class y/n? you as well bambam?”

and that was how they both ended up out in the hallway for a second time. its quiet between the two of them as they sit against the wall with their arms above their heads.

“listen… i understand if you don’t want to talk to me anymore, i get it” bambam quietly tells y/n as they both sit at a distance from each other in the hallway. y/n looks up a him and gives him a confused expression “huh? what are you talking about?” “i’ve been ignoring you and i said some pretty mean things to you… it’s okay if you don’t want to talk anymore i wouldn’t be that surprised. i’m used to not having many friends.” he adds on. its quiet again before y/n breaks the silence with her loud laughter.

bambam turns to look at y/n with the same confused look that she had just moments ago. “are you mocking me now?” he asks her, annoyance was hinted at his tone. y/n just shakes her head at his question though before turning to meet his eyes.

“i swear i’m not i just - i knew that yugyeom said you weren’t used to having friends but i didn’t know he meant it” y/n explains in between her laughs. bambam gives y/n a horrified look “how do you know yugyeom?!”

y/n’s laughter stops as she stops to think back. “hmm i met him a couple of days ago through mingyu since they’re in the same class. he came over to gyu’s the same time that i was there and he told me he was your friend” she explains. the look of terror doesn’t leave bambam’s face the more he heard y/n speak “what?! what did he say to you?!”

she just responds with a mischievous look on her face as she sends him a playful wink “that’s a secret”. all bambam could do was groan in response as the two people he didn’t want interacting had already met each other without him even knowing.

“he explained to me how you didn’t like making friends since you ‘didn’t need anyone else other than him’ or something like that.” y/n adds on and bambam turns away from his classmate in embarrassment “yeah! what about it! friends are irrelevant! they could just leave you at any time they want anyways.”

she just nods in understanding at his words “i mean, yeah thats true and all but isn’t it kinda lonely? besides - theres no harm in making any friends anyways. if they leave then they leave and then you can grow from it. but then again you also have to give people the benefit of the doubt from time to time you know”

his eyes widen at her words and he looks back up at her. y/n stares back at him with a small smile on her face which just causes thirteen year old bambam to blush even harder.

“it sucks being alone - don’t you think?”

and it was in that moment, bambam realized that she was someone he didn’t want to let go of anytime soon. it was because of her words, that he had came to the realization that he was just trying to convince himself by saying he didn’t want to let people in.

“yeah… it does”

just like that - it was like a switch inside of bambam had flipped. from wanting nothing to do with anyone else other than yugyeom, he now craved for friends and social interaction with others.

from feeling like he was in a dark room all by himself - he now felt as if the door to that room was opened, and it was all because of her. he wanted to keep staying by her side, he didn’t want her to leave.

moments of love masterlist

#what is love? au #kwritersworldnet #bambam x reader #bambam x y/n #bambam one shot #bambam got7 #got7 scenarios #got7 fluff #got7 imagines #bambam imagines #kunpimook bhuwakul #basically yn indirectly helps bambam come out of his shell and become the loud ass mfer who he is today 😨

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somerandomdutchfangirl · 3 years

Text

Hetalia Family Week - Day 1: Hobbies

This is my entry for @hetafamilyweek day 1 - hobbies (and hugs)

Summary: They didn't have time for family hangouts often, with them being nations and all that, but whenever they did, it was safe to say it was the most fun any of them would have that week.

Sometimes, they would just go for a coffee or lunch or have a picnic. Other times, they would binge-watch a series while cuddling on the couch. And then, there were times like this.

This has also been posted to my a03!

Disclaimer: the opinions of the characters aren’t necessarily the authors opinion. Also, some of the sentences have been translated with Google Translate. If there is any mistake, please let me know and I'll fix as soon as possible! The translations are at the end.

Names used:

Willem = Netherlands

Femke = Belgium

Laurent = Luxembourg

Antonio = Spain

Matthew = Canada

Abel = Holland, @starflight-blog oc

Sjoerd = Friesland, @starflight-blog oc

Lieke = Groningen, @starflight-blog oc

Relevant headcanons time!

- Femke owns a cat named Mika

- Matthew and Willem are married (see end notes for more info)

- Matthew uses he/they pronouns

:readmore:

They didn't have time for family hangouts often, with them being nations and all that, but whenever they did, it was safe to say it was the most fun any of them would have that week.

Sometimes, they would just go for a coffee or lunch or have a picnic. Other times, they would binge-watch a series while cuddling on the couch. And then, there were times like this.

"Can't you two sit still for like five minutes? If you want this painting to actually look good, you're gonna have to let me actually have time to paint you!"

"What if we want it to look like Picasso?"

"Laurent, hoepel een eind op, Picasso sucks and so do his paintings."

"Don't let Antonio hear you say that."

"Antonio can go fuck himself."

"Guys, let's keep this fun, alright? I want to enjoy this day," Femke chimed in. Willem huffed but didn't complain further. Laurent grinned and continued composing a piece for the harp standing next to him.

(When Laurent had led them towards his "inspiration room" as he liked to call it, which was just a room filled with instruments, art supplies and more, both siblings had been filled with dread at the thought of Laurent playing the tuba, or god forbid, the trombone. Willem had said: "Laurent, I swear to god, if you're going to play the tuba or the trombone, I'm going to throw both you and the instrument out of the nearest window." To which Laurent had been a smartass and replied, "Can you even lift all that weight though?" That had ended up in a chase through the house that ended when Femke tackle-hugged both.)

The comfortable silence continued for a while, broken only by the occasional sigh from one of the siblings or Laurent trying the piece on the harp.

"Hey, Fem," Laurent walked up to her while he was taking a quick break, "What're you making?"

"Well, I'm trying to embroider our pets, but this stitch just won't work, godverdomme-"

"Maybe you should take a break and come back to it later? It's getting late anyway, we should eat dinner soon," Laurent suggested. Femke nodded. When no conformation came from Willem, they turned to him.

"Hey, earth to Willem! Did you hear what we just said?" Laurent asked, walking up to him and quickly stopping next to him. "Nondikass!" He exclaimed. "Willem, that looks amazing! How'd you do that in such a short time?!"

Femke, now curious, walked up to her brothers and peeked over their shoulders. "What the fuck, Willem," she gaped at the painting in front of her. It was clearly her and Laurent doing their respective hobbies, with beautiful lighting and background. The vibrant colours of the front of the painting was a stark contrast to the background, which had much softer tones. "You told us you were rusty! What part of this is rusty?!"

Willem, who was now looking more like a tomato, opened his mouth, no doubt to point out all the things that were wrong with it, but Laurent cut him off. "Nope, Mr. Perfectionist, you're not pointing out all the imperfections of this, and that's final. This is a masterpiece, seriously. Don't give me that look!"

"You know," Femke mused, "I might actually hang this in my house once it's dry."

"Guys," Willem said, flustered, "It's not that good. Really. Thanks for the compliments, but-"

"No buts!" Femke exclaimed at the same time Laurent yelled: "Not that good?!"

"Yeah, it's... the colour's off, the perspective is weird, and-"

"I am this close to actually strangling you with your scarf, Willem," Femke cut him off, her hands on her hips. "So what if it isn't perfect? That doesn't make it look any less amazing! I'll tell you what, we're gonna take a break, then we're going to come back here, and you'll see how amazing this actually looks."

Willem looked at her for a few seconds before sighing. "Fine..."

"Now don't go around brooding like that, it's no fun," Laurent said while shooting Femke a quick thumbs-up. Femke grinned.

"Now, come on! I'll make waffles!"

---

"Hey, Matthew replied!" Laurent exclaimed, effectively cutting off Willems' story on the antics of Abel and Sjoerd.

(Apparently, they had gotten into a fight over who had the most creative curse words. This had ended in Abel singing along to the curse word song in Dutch, until Lieke walked in. Sjoerd had promptly slapped a hand over Abel's mouth to stop him from ‘tainting Lieke's innocence’. It was weird.)

"What do you mean?" Willem asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, dearest brother of mine," Laurent replied with a shit-eating grin, which did absolutely nothing to ease Willem's worries. "Because you didn't seem too convinced by us literally shouting how amazing your painting was, we decided to send a picture to Matthew-"

"You what?!"

"-to see what he thinks of it," Laurent continued, unfazed. "Since, you know, you seem to care a lot about what they think, about as much as you care about what we think? I mean I would hope so, considering we're your siblings, but-"

"You're getting off track, Laurent," Femke cut him off. "Anyway, we figured that if anyone other than us would manage to convince you that your painting is amazing, it's gonna be Matthew."

"I-"

"Don't even try to deny it. We went to your wedding, remember? We know how much you care about him. Which is a good thing, by the way. So, Laurent, what did they say?"

"Well, there's an all-caps keysmash, followed by an all-caps 'what?!'. Scratch that, basically everything is in caps. So, the general train of thought is 'what the fuck, this is beautiful, how the fuck did he do this, he calls this rusty?!' And finally, 'I love it 10/10 would hang in my living room and/or show off to my family and friends. It's beautiful and I'll physically fight him on that.'"

"Awww, that's so sweet! See, Willy, your painting truly is amazing!" Femke, sporting a somehow genuine but shit-eating grin, patted her brother on the back. Said brother had his head in his hands and may or may not be crying.

"I hate you two," came the muffled reply with no real heat behind it. Femke and Laurens laughed.

"We love you too, you softie! Now come on, who's ready to spend more time together!" Femke cheered, already halfway across the room.

---

"Jezus Christus, Femke, that looks amazing!" Willem said, looking at the embroidery his sister had made. It pictured their pets, Pelutze, Mika, and Nijntje.

"Aww, thanks Willem!"

"Wait, let me see- wow, sis, this is really good! I love it!"

"Thank you, Lau! By the way, is your composition nearly finished? I want to hear it!"

"Me too, actually."

"Well, it's not done yet, but I can play what I have so far?"

"Yes please!" Femke smiled.

Laurent sat down and started playing the piece of music he had written on the harp. Moving his fingers delicately along the strings, the beautiful melody carried along the room. Once he was done, he looked up.

"So... what did you think- Femke are you okay?!"

"Yeah, sorry, it's just... it's so beautiful!" Femke cried, flinging herself at Laurent and crushing him in a hug.

"I agree with Femke, it was wonderful," Willem chimed in, walking over to his siblings. Femke quickly included him in the hug.

"You two are so talented, what the hell!"

"Fem, you're crushing me," Laurent gasped. "And don't you dare exclude yourself, have you seen what you just made?!"

"Yeah, but-"

"No buts, remember," Willem said, parroting her words back to her with a smirk.

"Why are you like this?"

Willem laughed at this. "You still love me despite it, though!"

"That's not an answer!"

"Is it not?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Guys, please stop. This is a stupid argument," Laurent rolled his eyes.

"Rolling your eyes at us? How rude, Lau," Willem said, locking him in a headlock and ruffling his hair.

"Hey, let me go!"

"Hmmm, let's see... Nope."

"Oh, come on! Fem, help me out here!"

Femke just laughed in response.

"Betrayal!" Laurent screeched, struggling to get out of his brother's headlock. Femke just laughed harder in response, almost falling over.

"You know, you could always just say the magic word to get out."

"The magic- What am I, five?"

"You certainly act like it sometimes."

"Fëck dech."

"Real mature, Laurent."

"Oh, like asking for the magic word is so mature."

"Absolutely. I haven't heard it yet, by the way. Femke, are you doing alright?" Willem asked, as his sister was now lying on the floor, tears streaming down her face. Gasping for air, she shook no.

"Seems like you'd better let me go before we make Femke choke," Laurent commented. Willem tsk-ed.

"Fine, fine. Fem, get up," he said, letting Laurent out of the headlock and extending a hand towards Femke.

"Give- give me a... minute," she said, still gasping for air. After she managed to get enough air in her lungs and not burst out laughing after she saw her brothers standing in front of her with worried (albeit semi-irritated) looks, she finally took Willem's offered hand.

"You two are utter morons."

Willem gasped. "Are you hearing this, Laurent? Slander, complete and utter slander!"

"Well, she's right about one of us, and it isn't me."

"Laurent, ik tyf je de Noordzee in als je niet ophoudt-"

"Try me, old man-"

"Who're you calling old you little-"

''Oh for- hou uw bakkes! If this becomes another argument, I will smother both of you!''

''You wouldn't dare,'' Willem said. After a beat of silence and a fierce glare from Femke, he added: ''Would you?''

''I don't know, why don't you find out?''

''Fem, you're scaring me a bit here,'' Laurent said nervously. Femke hummed. Laurent looked at Willem, wide-eyed. Willem just looked back and shrugged.

''Could you even reach me though?'' Willem, who apparently had a death wish, asked.

Femke whipped around, glaring at her brother. Willem just glared back.

''Guys, no, no one's getting killed today,'' Laurent interjected. ''This is supposed to be a fun family meeting, remember? If there's any way anyone's going down,'' he added on, a devilish grin on his face as he slowly inched closer to his still glaring siblings, ''It's going to be this way!'' he yelled as he quickly poked Willem in his side, who immediately yelped and tried to get away. To no avail, because Femke quickly latched onto his arm and started poking him in his side too.

''No, Fem, wait- What did I do to deserve this?!''

''Well, uh... you took the last waffle?''

''Are you asking me, or-'' Willem started to ask, then yelped again as his siblings started to tickle him.

''No! Please, mercy!''

''Hmmm, Lau, what do you think? Should we stop?'' Femke asked, looking at her younger brother.

''I don’t know, Fem,'' Laurent answered back, devilish grin still on his face. ''He hasn’t said the magic word yet.''

''Godverdomme, natuurlijk is dat het antwoord. Kut! Laurens, stop!''

''Hmm, let me think. Nee.''

Femke snickered. ''He looks like a worm, wiggling like that.''

''How the fuck-''

''Oh my god you're so right,'' Laurent said. ''Willem the worm,'' he started to say, but burst out laughing halfway through. Femke laid on top of Willem, wheezing. Willem, meanwhile, looked absolutely mortified.

''You two are so immature,'' he said.

''Says the guy currently laying on the floor because he's ticklish.''

''I will strangle you,'' Willem threatened.

''Try me, bit- Hey!'' Laurent started to say, before Willem had reached forward and pulled him besides him.

''You know, this is actually surprisingly comfortable,'' Femke commented after a beat of silence.

''No, you're heavy. Get off me- Lau don't you dare lay on top of Femke or I swear- oof!''

''Hmm? What was that?''

''I'll kill you.''

''Aw, we love you too!''

''... Ugh, fine, if I say it, will you get off?''

''Maybe!''

''You two are gremlins, oh my god. Fine, I love you too.''

''He said it! Lau, he said it!''

''Yeah yeah, we all heard it. Now get off me.''

''I mean... technically I never promised I'd get off-''

''Off. Now. Or I'll never bring you stroopwafels again.''

This earned him a scandalized gasp from both of his siblings.

''You’re so mean! How dare you deprive us of stroopwafels?!''

''You can't do that!''

''You two are impossible. I said off,'' Willem complained, trying to sit up. Which was hard, considering Femke was literally laying on top of him.

''Say the magic word first.''

''Are you serious right now? Femke, we are not five.''

''So?''

''... Fine. Femke, can you please get the fuck off me?''

''Fine, close enough,'' she said as she got off Willem, who immediately took a deep breath.

''Finally, oh sweet air how much I've missed you.''

''You’re so weird. Anyway,'' Femke said, turning towards Laurent. ''You recorded the whole thing, right?''

Laurent laughed and rolled his eyes. ''Like you had to ask.''

Willem gaped at them, before jumping up. ''Godver- Laurent give that camera here, right now!''

''No, I don’t want to. I must say this is great blackmail material.''

''Laurent, als je nu niet die camera hier geeft, dan-''

''Du muss mech als éischt fänken!''

Needless to say, Willem ended up chasing Laurent through the house, Femke following closely behind. In the end, all three of them ended up in a dogpile on the couch, laughing. Yeah, family meetings were fun indeed.

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

Translations:

Hoepel een eind op (Dutch) = a nice(ish) way of saying ‘fuck off’ or ‘go away’

Godverdomme (Dutch, Flemish) = goddammit

Nondikass (Luxembourgish) = used as an exclaimation, meaning something like ‘damn’.

Jezus Christus (Dutch) = Jesus Christ

Fëck dech (Luxembourgish) = Screw you

Ik tyf je de Noordzee in als je niet ophoudt (Dutch) = I will throw you into the North Sea if you don't stop. (The word ‘tyf’ is pretty rude though, albeit used by a lot of teens in my experience, so I would not recommend going around actually saying this.)

Hou uw bakkes (Flemish) = shut up

Godverdomme, natuurlijk is dat het antwoord. Kut! (Dutch) = ‘Goddammit, of course that's the answer. Fuck!’ (even though the word 'kut’ doesn’t mean ‘fuck’, it's used as a replacement pretty often. The more accurate translation would be ‘vagina’, as that is literally what it means, but it's used as a curse word more often than not.)

Nee (Dutch, Flemish, Luxembourgish) = No

Laurent, als je nu niet die camera hier geeft, dan- = Laurent, if you don't give me the camera right now, then-

Du muss mech als éischt fänken! (Luxembourgish) = youre gonna have to catch me first!

Stroopwafels are a Dutch delicacy, I love them so much. Basically, they’re waffles with syrup in between. Google them for examples and probably a better explanation.

I am physically incapable of not adding in a sprinkle of NedCan. I'm sorry (but actually not really,, as stated, Willem and Matthew are married so technically Matthew is family- *gets smacked*)

The ending is more crack and longer than I intended because I have no self-control. Sue me.

Moral of the story: don't anger short ppl. They’re angrier cuz they’re closer to hell-

Yes Willem is ticklish, I said what I said.

Bonus scene: ''Wait, so if Willem is a worm, would Matthew be like... a moose?''

''I am begging you two to stop. Laurent, stop laughing!''

#hetafamilyweek2021 #aph benelux #aph netherlands #aph belgium #aph luxembourg #hetalia #hws netherlands #hws belgium #hws luxembourg #aph friesland #aph holland #aph groningen #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #sibling banter #somerandomdutchfangirl #somerandomdutchartist

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