#for those not in the loop my step parent is an abusive fuck who has been ruining our lives for years

[asdcats]

So it looks like things are officially over between my mum and step parent.

#not asd #pursonal #for those not in the loop my step parent is an abusive fuck who has been ruining our lives for years #parent mention

[antiloreolympus]

10 Anti LO Asks

1. Not the loukoumi 😂 she just went "ight this fits, it's traditional Greek dessert, will surely earn their respect" and put it in a timeline where it's still supposed to be ancient Greece. At the time, none of those traditional desserts existed, maybe not even in their country of origin (Turkey). And I'm sure both baklava and loukoumi are considered Turkish desserts, the fact that we make them here in Greece as well doesn't mean they're ours. 

2. I didn’t want to believe the comparison that people were making Demeter and Mother Gothal refrences until I saw a post on my feed. As a person who saw Tangeld, Tangled Ever After, and saw bits of pieces of Tangled the series, I can confirm that DEMETER IS NOTHING LIKE MOTHER GOTHAL!!! DEMETER DIDNT ABANDON HER ACTUAL CHILD, DIDNT STEAL PERSEPHONE FROM HER REAL PARENTS, GASLIGHT HER FOR ALL HER LIFE, DIDNT USE PERSEPHONE FOR HER ABILITY AND HELL SHE DIDNT USE PERSEPHONES LOVE ONES AGAINST HER!!! Demeter as the one who knew and grew with the other gods didn’t want her daughter to be harmed or used by them ESPECIALLY now we all know that Hades isn’t giving up anything for Persephone in their “relationship”. In the myth, she mourned for her daughter, caused the seasons to change, and only wanted her daughter back after being legitimately kidnapped!! In LO, she knew her daughter didn’t have any fucking control on her emotions or powers yet!! Yes she did put pressure BUT with the circumstances that are now placed in the story SHE WANTED HER DAUGHTER SAFE AND SOUND!!! She even let her go live in OLYMPUS, TRUSTING Artemis, and was kept out of the fuvking loop!! Only to find out that Persephone ran, lived with Hades, and Hades is in love with her daughter WHO MET HER WHEN SHE BARELY HAD ANY CLOTHES ON!! How is Demeter and Mother Gothal the same?!! Please go back to the movies and series and compare the two characters again!!! This makes me so pissed after learning this like WTFFF?!! 

3. It seems like RS is starting to realize her mistake in making Apollo and Demeter antagonistic - so she’s trying to make up for it by giving them redemption arcs. I think. It might be too early to tell right now but that does seem like that’s where it’s going.

For Demeter I feel it can work. While RS has been avoiding telling her story for so long, there are still hints of Demeter being a good mother, just flawed - so at least there’s something to work with. We’ve only seen Persephone’s side of things - so finally showing Demeter’s side and having her recognize her wrong choices while raising Persephone, then apologizing to her, should honestly be enough to get her out of the hole. Still not good writing to avoid Demeter’s perspective for so long (and make her abusive in the first place), but it could still work.

As for Apollo - that’s a lot more difficult. RS has dug a pretty deep hole for him and that’s gonna be tough to drag him out of. His perspective should’ve been hinted at much earlier in the story to really accomplish a nuanced take - instead of making him a obsessive over Persephone to the point of becoming cartoonishly evil. Redemption for a R*pist is not an easy task and RS hasn’t been taking the right steps to make it easier for herself.

4. I'm going to say this about the comic book: For me, the reason it did poorly was honestly because it was a reprint of things that were there for free. Why would people pay for something that's already on the internet for free? Especially with 5.8 MILLION people reading it, there's a good chance that many already knew at last what partially happened. Not to mention, most people already know the Persephone  and Hades, so most don't read the same thing over again. That's just my take

5. LO just has no sense of what it wants to be. It starts out as a YA romance, then a coming of age story, but then a murder mystery? and now a police drama? and an epic of good versus evil but also a goofy comedy? I'm not saying RS can't try to tell these type of stories, but those could be saved for other comics and not shoved into what was supposed to be a simple romance. TBH it only makes the romance drowned out & even distracting when it tries to focus on it over the everything else going on.

6. For the "Hebe will stay forever a child" anon: Hebe is the goddess / personification of Youth and she was always depicted as a young woman (maybe also a teenager). It's weird to make this work for the LO concept but it's possible we won't see her become very "grown"

7. At this point, I doubt Demeter is going to cause the great famine. I wouldn’t put it passed Smythe to just give that to Persephone because why not. I wouldn’t be surprised. Persephone is so OP might as well make her create winter too. I hope I’m wrong. 

8. the fact hades (who still sees to think it was her choice to do so) shamed persephone for being celibate and told her outright he could NEVER have a wife who wasnt always sexually available to him is so?? fucked up?? like even if there wasnt the virginity plotline, what if persephone just doesnt want to have sex at the same time he does? does she have to force herself into a situation she doesnt want to appease him and his temper? because that doesnt exactly scream "caring husband" now does it?

From OP: That was one of the things I hated during their phone call. The “a wife who’s taken a vow of celibacy isn’t for me”line is just so bad with context. Especially since it was right after her assault.

9. low how this "feminist narrative" is now using leto to excuse a man's sexual abuse and use one of the first women introduced to be used as a new "twist" villain to excuse persephone committing mass murder. love that!

From OP: I don’t think that’s the case (excusing what he did) but the fact that Leto spoiling him might have anything to do with what he did to Persephone isn’t a good look.

10. i wish webtoons knew its very obvious when the numbers of lo are going down because they NEVER put them on banner unless its underperforming in some way and they need to pump it up. case in point, they only put the book ad back up when it came out the sells werent as good as they were hoping, and now its been on banner for two days straight  despite it not being an "event" episode. the marketing team is so unsubtle with stuff like this. maybe the fas are bored of this trial plot line too?

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

[samwontshare]

Black Widow Review I guess

Was Black Widow the send off movie for Nat that I wanted to see after Avengers 1 first dropped? No.

Did I really enjoy it anyway (with some criticisms)? Yes.

Here’s what worked and what didn’t work for me.

What worked for me:

-Yelena and Nat’s relationship carried this entire movie. It was start to finish a truly beautiful sister movie. Their relationship is so genuine and they have such a great connection on screen. The bickering! The older/little sibling dynamic is so powerful in this movie. Yelena’s need for Nat in her life, and Nat who suffered so much trying to just escape but her younger sibling was left behind. This was so painful and real for me as a survivor of childhood domestic violence - where my older sibling would often leave to protect himself, but then I was left behind to survive. It took me a long time to have empathy for him and his very real need to protect himself. Because we both were just trying to survive and it wasn’t our fault. I saw myself in Yelena and my brother in Nat’s decision to leave the Red Room. For them to come together to take down the Red Room together is just some beautiful, cathartic shit.

-Yelena. Every. Single. Thing. About. Yelena. The acting was just stunning - that Yelena has this childlike quality to her because for the first time, she can be a human being. She has beautiful character moments: fogging the glass, playing with her beer bottle, her enthusiasm for the vest with pockets she purchased AND modified thank you very much. Do I feel they dulled her trauma to keep the levity? Yes, but she still has some stunning moments of vulnerability - especially when she took her fake family to task and called out Nat for saying it wasn’t real. This was just *chef kiss* THE HEAD TOUCHES OMG.

-The found family dynamic. I think some folks might baulk at the forgiveness shown to the parental figures, but for me this rings true as someone again who experienced childhood violence. What’s often hard is that you feel such justified anger toward those who hurt you and didn’t protect you, but for many people (though not all) there is still a need to be loved by those people and you might still love them despite everything because there were good moments in all the horror. What I think actually made this work is that Melina and Alexei both took steps to correct their ways - they immediately helped the sisters. It spoke a bit on generational trauma - particularly re: Melina. Was it perfect? No. Do I think it will work for everyone? No. But I didn’t mind it. Damaged people trying to do better is my jam. And I was just happy Melina lived.

-The opening credits is one of the best things Marvel has ever done. Chilling.

-The humor. This shit was funny.

-The way it centered Yelena and Nat, women supporting women, and said fuck off to the male Avengers.

-This is unpopular but I was fine with Taskmaster. I remember Taskmaster from the Deadpool comics so I get why people are mad, but to me it threaded a nice loop in Nat’s story. Nat’s desperation to leave the Red Room and end her violence meant killing an innocent child - was it heroic? No. Was it human? Yes. Taking the time to make some amends there felt like nice closure, even if Antonia falls into one of my biggest issues with the film (see below).

-I’m glad Dreykov was an unexplained Bond villain with his ridiculous sky lair that everyone should have known about after NYC. Dreykov was symbolic for every shitty male abuser that’s plagued women. It ain’t about him. It’s about what he represented.

What didn’t work for me:

-How WOC showed up in the movie felt super uncomfortable. We see a Widow of color starting the movement to free the others, but she’s quickly dispatched and the job is taken over by two white women. There is a really horrifying scene where another WOC is forced by a white man to kill herself to further Nat’s horror about the situation. The only time in this movie WOC are on screen it’s to 1) die and 2) literally be brainwashed into servitude. There’s no agency for WOC in this movie and it sucks A LOT.

-That sort of plays into my other big problem with the plot and that was the whole brainwashing storyline. It fell really flat for me and I’ve been trying to figure out why. The movie started out really strong with the absolutely horrifying story of Nat and Yelena’s childhood and the opening credits that pull no punches about human trafficking and the literal child torture that takes place in the Red Room.

But the MCU once again proves it’s not ready to tackle deeper issues in their totality - they have to walk it back so it’s still the quippy, action oriented formula that makes every one a blockbuster. So instead of a story about the horrors of the Red Room and psychological conditioning of young trafficked girls into trained killers - and more importantly how those women still maintain their agency despite this, how they are survivors and how they break the chains of the Red Room to take their power back (a story much more grounded in real abuses), they put a sci-fi veneer over it.

Suddenly they’re trained assassins who are brainwashed into being trained assassins…? As if the horrors of the Red Room aren’t enough without the total removal of agency (and it’s handled with so much less grace than say Bucky Barnes’ experience, who breaks his own conditioning). The Widows spend the entire movie as nameless victims waiting for rescue and get absolutely no scenes of agency even when they’re freed.

To me, it undermined the whole trafficking commentary. They remained nameless. They remained victims. They remained waiting for rescue. But at least they’re not forgotten? Yeesh. It flattens the experience of real trafficked people and their resiliency. I think there was a way to both honor survivors and honor those who didn't survive and the movie didn't get that balance.

-I think a lot of other people have already pointed out that this movie feels like Black Widow 2 and we’re missing parts 1 and 3. Telling this story now is a let down. That Black Widow’s only movie is about passing the torch after she’s already dead is a disappointment (and that’s not a criticism of Yelena - who is pure gold in this movie). I left the movie still feeling like Nat herself was hollow, that she didn’t get the earnestness of Yelena’s character. She had an endearing moment of watching spy movies and a beautiful childhood opening and then she gets lost in her own movie bouncing from one fight to another. It was sad as hell. I wanted this to be about her time in the Red Room, her escape from the Red Room, her experiencing what it means to have freedom to decide.

-They really ruined that beautiful moment of Yelena mourning Nat with Val showing up. Look I don’t care if it would’ve been predictable, that movie would have hit harder if Nat whistled back. They didn’t even have to show her. It could have just ended that way.

Overall, I enjoyed it as a movie. I don’t know that I enjoyed it as Black Widow’s ONLY movie.

#black widow spoilers #black widow #natasha romanoff #yelena belova #mcu #cw human trafficking #cw abuse

[babbushka]

Make Good

Flip Zimmerman x Reader

(Young!Flip from the Flip & His Darling Jewish Wife AU)

2k ; Content Warnings: Implied/Referenced abuse, abusive family; emotional hurt/comfort; angst & fluff [sometimes we just need to write what we need] 

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

He’d been having a shitty enough day as it was, before he got your call. Work was tough with the weather shifting to cold and wet, rain coming down in sheets. Wasn’t good to leave wood out in the rain, and he had to oversee too many people trying to move too many logs in the low visibility of the slate grey skies.

So when he came home and two steps in the door his Ma handed him the telephone with worry set deep in her brow, and mouthed your name, he had feared for the worst and his pulse spiked hard in his chest.

Especially when he held the receiver up to his ear and heard the crack in your voice when you hoarsely whispered, “Phil…”

He knew that tone, the one that meant you’d been crying for a while, the hush that scrapes the back of your throat so that no one can hear you when you speak. He knew what put it there too, and he nearly went blind with anger before quickly responding,

“I’m on my way.”

By the time Flip gets to your house, the sun has long set. The rain carries on, steady and heavy as ever, a thick curtain of freezing cold drops that splash and flood the pavement around his tires. He knows he can’t park outside otherwise your parents will know he’s there, and neither of you can have that. You’ll be in even more distress, and that’s the last fucking thing he wants to cause you.

So, bundling up, he leaves his car parked down a block or two at a neighbor’s house who happens to know him and like him, and he tugs his coat on as tight as he can so no water chills him, and he makes a sprint for your window.

The light is off, which makes things a little more difficult than it needs to be – but he knows that you can’t have it on. They’d be mad if they knew you were up this late, even though it wasn’t late at all, not really. The light may be off, but you’re there, standing right against the window. You’ve pulled your curtains back and slid the right side open, waiting for him.

He can’t begin to describe the love that fills his chest when he sees you smile, realizing he’s come. He wants to call to you, but he can’t, not now, not at this hour. So instead he gets his footing together and begins to climb up the side of your house, using the garden trellis to work his way up.

The trellis is slippery though, and he accidentally misses a step and sucks in a deep breath as he tries to catch himself and keep himself from falling.

“Be careful!” You gasp, before clapping a hand over your mouth and shaking your head, knowing that any noise is a danger.

It only takes two more big climbs and then your hands are on him, looping around his arms and helping to pull him in through your window, his soaking wet feet landing on a towel you’ve placed right there on the floor for him.

It takes two seconds after that, for you to cry.

“Hey, c’mere.” Flip automatically pulls you into his arms, tight against his chest as he pets down your hair and soothes you with a gentle, “You’re okay.”

He doesn’t even think about how his clothes are freezing cold and wet, he doesn’t think about anything other than the rush of rage that thrums through him at how your body shakes against him from the force of your tears. You’ve buried your face into his neck to sob and he wants to scream, wants to kill something, because you’re so wonderful, so kind and tolerant – christ you tolerate too much – and you don’t deserve to be treated the way that they do.

“I don’t even know what I did wrong this time.” Your voice is muffled against his skin but he hears you clearly just the same, and he has to blink away the spots of anger that cloud his vision.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” He speaks firmly but without any hint of anger, because he knows you’d misconstrue it as him being angry with you, and he’s not. Never in a million years.

He is angry, angry that they’ve gotten you so worked up like this, angry that they’re brainwashed you and gaslit you into thinking that you should be punished for simply existing. He gets angrier with them when your wet eyes shine wide in the moonlight and you shake your head.

“Yes I did! I had to have, otherwise they – she – it wouldn’t be this way.” You falter, forgetting to breathe in that way that you sometimes do when you’re too overwhelmed.

“No, ketsl,” Flip cups your cheeks in his hands and holds you steady, grounds you the way he will always ground you when you start to get too in your own head, “You didn’t.”

You stare at him for a while, before taking in that deep breath that you need, and letting your shoulders slump. Nodding slowly, you hold his hand like a tether and reach around him to shut the window with your free hand.

“I’ve got warm clothes for you.” You whisper, giving him a sad tired smile.

 This isn’t the first time it’s happened, him climbing through your window like this. Your parents were…difficult, was a good way to describe it. Probably the only fucking way Flip would be able to politely describe it, anyway. They weren’t both bad, but one of them well…one of them made you cry so often that Flip was gearing up to lose his fucking mind about it.

He had a fleeting thought once before, that maybe he’d join the police academy, come haul them away so they can’t hurt you anymore. He’s thinking it again, thinking that it doesn’t sound so impossible now, the way it did when he was gangly. Flip had filled out, he could do it.

If it meant keeping you safe and happy, he would.

“What happened this time?” Flip hazards to ask as you rifle through your closet for clothes you’ve got hidden away.

You hand them to him and don’t bother to avert your eyes when he starts stripping down, leaving his wet clothes in a heap on that towel he’s still standing on. You’ve been Flip’s girlfriend for a year now, you’ve seen every inch of him and there’s no reason for him to hide himself away.

“Nothing.” You reply with a sigh, and Flip frowns, hands stilling as he lifts the soft and warm t-shirt over his head.

“Nothing?” He steps into the boxers too, and before you reply, you take him by the hand to your twin bed.

It’s small, you’ve had it since you were moved out of a crib and it’s barely enough room for you now, but you’re clinging to Flip and he has you tucked against his chest, his strong arms wrapped around you as thunder and lightning crash outside with the rain.

“Nothing.” You whisper.

Oh, he thinks as anger flares up again.

That was the worst, the silence. They pretended like you didn’t exist sometimes, when you were being punished for a crime you didn’t commit. You would say good morning and they’d ignore you, you’d be in the room and they wouldn’t look at you, you’d be doing their dishes or their laundry and they wouldn’t say thank you. You were a ghost to them sometimes, and today must have been one of those times.

“One day I’m gonna build you a house.” Flip says, apropos of nothing. He smooths his hands over your back and kisses the top of your head, “You hear me? I’m gonna build it with my own two fuckin’ hands if I have to.”

It’s not a lie, you both know. Flip’s been working hard, so hard, has been working to save up enough that he can make good on these words. Didn’t bother going to college, went right to work after graduation with every intention of putting all of it towards building his life with you.

“I’ll buy the lumber from the mill and get us a piece of the mountain and we’ll have tulips in every room and tomatoes in the garden and you’ll never have to tiptoe through the kitchen again.” He begins to card his fingers through your hair, the very same way that you do for him when his days are bad.

“When?” You ask, and that makes Flip hopeful, because if you’re talking that means you’re listening to him, which means you’re not listening to the voices in your head that they’ve poisoned you with.

“Soon as you’re finished with school.” Flip says easily, because that’s the plan, that’s always been the plan. “You get that diploma and we’re outta here, I promise. I promise you, ketsl. You won’t even have to work, just finish that degree and we’ll go away.”

He’s going to marry you too, he knows. He doesn’t have to say it, you know that too. So instead he asks, “How many rooms do you want?”

“How many can I have?” You huff a very small laugh against his chest and shrug with one shoulder.

You shuffle yourself further up onto his chest, your body lying on top of his. He’s got his knees bent and spread so that your body can fit between them easily, your hands folded under your chin as your eyes glitter, tears clung to your lashes. You’re not crying anymore, not right now anyway, and that’s a good sign.

“How many do you want?” Flip brushes across your cheek with his thumb, “Tell me what you want.”

You sigh and turn your head towards the window. Despite the rain, the clouds have steered clear of the moon, and the silvery light outlines you in an ethereal way that Flip can’t stop staring at.

“I want an eat in kitchen. I want a formal dining table and I want us to have a sit down dinner together every night. I want a big living room with a fireplace, and a small den with a fireplace too, one for entertaining and the other just for us.” You say softly. It’s all the things you have now, but in this future world you’ll be able to enjoy them.

“Keep going.” Flip encourages, fingers in your hair against your scalp.

“I want an office where I can do work, and a library where I can read through it. I want a big bedroom and a soaking tub that I can fit all of my leg into.” Your voice grows softer and softer, and Flip can feel your breathing even out as you begin to drift to sleep.

“What else?” He whispers.

“I want a nursery – ”

“Just one?” Flip interrupts, making you chuckle softly, sleepily against him.

“They can share the nursery before growing up enough to have their own rooms.” You reason, and Flip grins even though you can’t see it, “And I want playrooms – one for them, and one for us. With a big billiards table and a marble chess set like grandpa used to have.”

“Okay.” Flip nods, letting his eyes close.

“You’ll remember all that?” You mumble, more asleep than you are awake, your hand nudging against his and linking your fingers together.

“I got it all up here ketsl.” Flip kisses the top of your head, “Don’t you worry about a thing.”

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

That had been what seems like a million years ago, that night.

And as the two of you lie awake in the king sized mattress that you picked out, surrounded by wallpaper you helped put up, in the bedroom he gave you in the house he built you just like he said he would, as you’re beaming at one another because you’re so in love, that diamond ring on your finger glinting in the lamp-light, the little ones asleep in their bedrooms all tucked in for the night, he can’t help but think he really did make good on his promise.

Just like he always will.

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman/reader #flip zimmerman x you #flip zimmerman/you #blackkklansman #flip zimmerman fanfiction #adam driver character #adam driver fanfiction #adcu #my writing

[smokedstorybara]

I have so many bnha fanfic ideas, they’ve just been popping into my head every few days for weeks now

So I’m just gonna share them all on this one post instead of making a million new fandom posts out of nowhere (ok, it’s closer to, like, ten - but still!)

If any of y’all want me to actually write any of them, don’t hesitate to say so - or if you just want to ask questions and talk about the ideas I’d be totally down for that too

Also, if any of them inspire you to write or draw something, please send me a link when you’re done!

(under a readmore cause it’s long and also there’s spoilers)

Fae courts AU

Nedzu - Spring King

U.A. / The Spring Court - also known as the Court of Lost Children, all members of the Court were once human children or children of one of the other Courts and they view it as their duty to care for the lost, neglected, and abused children of the world (one of two child stealing Courts)

All Might - Summer King

All For One - Winter King

Objectively, the Summer and Winter Courts are not as different as they like to believe - a Summer fae is just as likely to trick or turn on you as a Winter fae, they just prefer to play at benevolence while Winter fae make no secret of their nature

Shie Hassaikai / The Autumn Court - used to be more like a lesser version of the Summer and Winter Courts, until Overhaul put the King to sleep and made his research into humanity the Court’s focus - they’re now the second child stealing Court

Eraserhead was once human but has made enough deals over the years - most notably with Nezu himself - that he’s practically fae now

Deku and Kachan are human children who were taken in by the Spring Court, though Deku only after catching the attention of All Might

Endeavor - High Fae in the Summer Court - wants to become Summer King but knows he’s not powerful enough to overthrow All Might, married a High Winter Fae in hopes that combining their powers would make one of their kids powerful enough

Dabi fakes his death and eventually becomes a High Fae in the Winter Court

Shouto seeks sanctuary in the Spring Court’s halls

(I don’t actually have a plot for it, but I’m enjoying figuring out the world and stuff)

Evil All Might AU

The underworld knows that young Yagi Toshinori is a con-artist, and a very good one

The kid’s quirkless, and from a bad neighborhood, so of course he gets involved in shady dealings to get by

But he never ever gets caught

See, he’s mastered the eager, innocent, “I know I’m quirkless, but it’s my dream to be a hero! To fight crime! To be someone people can look up to, put their faith in! To be a… a symbol!” act, he’s been running that con any time he’s found in the wrong place at the wrong time since he first started walking - no one with even a single good bone in their body ever questions it

He gets involved with AFO, who’s like “I could give you one of my lesser quirks in exchange for your loyalty, or you could do a long undercover mission for me and get one of the most powerful quirks in existence out of it”

His mission: pulling his signature con on Shimura Nana, being given One for All, becoming a hero, becoming the Number One Hero and Symbol of Peace and the singular pillar holding up hero society, maintaining that status for long enough that everyone grows a little complacent, finding a weak and manipulable child to pass One for All on to, setting them up to fail, and then retiring

(I’d either have this one be All Might-focused and end with the reveal, or have it be Izuku-focused and give it a happy ending where All Might totally chose the wrong kid, cause nothing about Izuku is weak)

Commission analyst Izuku au

Member of the commission overhears him muttering/catches a glance at his notebook while watching a hero fight, strikes up a conversation

The commission tracks him down, shows up at his home with a similar offer to the one they gave Hawks - but instead of a hero they want him to be an analyst for them

Like Hawks, they take away his name, only calling him something like Eagle Eye or something (I’d go with Hawkeye but Hawks already exists so it might be weird?)

(Basically this fic idea is just an excuse to have Izuku and Hawks as the ultimate team, and helping each other get out from under the commission’s thumb - maybe revolutionizing hero society along the way)

Canon rewrite w/ Monoma as main character, somehow

All I have for this one so far is just:

Monoma copies afo, uses copied afo to steal afo, AFO is now defeated

After getting better at controlling her quirk, Eri rewinds Kurogiri back into Shirakumo Oboro

But he’s the age he was when he died

So he joins the current class 2-A

As in Izuku’s class

Basically it’s just his old best friends having to teach him and him making friends with all Aizawa’s problem children

Time travel

(I have multiple cause I really like time travel)

Aizawa-centric time loop fic

Loop stretching from day before Oboro’s death to towards the end of the liberation war (diverging from canon in at least the first loop cause he fucking dies during the fight)

At first he thinks maybe he just, like, dreamt up those 14(?) years

But then things are happening the same way and so he starts changing things and he dies and wakes up the day before Oboro’s death again

He experiments a lot with the loops, figuring out that they’re definitely not time based - unless it’d loop back at the end of the liberation war even if he survives? Requires further testing

Details he changes throughout the loops (culminating in a loop in which he successfully changes all of them):

Oboro’s death

Shimura Tenko being taken in by All for One, All Might’s injury(?), Izuku accepting One for All, and more I haven’t fully decided on

Time travel fic where Pro Hero Deku accidentally time travels back to just before Aizawa’s first year as a student at ua and somehow gets hired as a teacher

Gonna be a two-parter

Part one: Izuku has to teach teen versions of his old high school teachers, channels their future selves a little

Part two: Aizawa, Yamada, and Kayama have to teach the teen version of their old favorite high school teacher, and end up channeling his future self - in different ways

(I’ve come across a couple different “Izuku gets accidentally sent back in time to when his teachers were students” fanfics and they keep making me think about how Aizawa & co would react to meeting him in canon timeline after meeting him in high school and then I took the natural step forward from there to “let’s parallel their nostalgia, make him their high school teacher so it can really hit hard”)

Izuku is related to rooftop trio aus

(I’ve come across a bunch of “Izuku is the biological son of at least one member of the rooftop trio” aus but only one acknowledges that in canon he’s only 15 years younger than them and that one has a very angsty explanation, so I wanted some that fit with canon and also aren’t too heavy - cause like, sure you could go with the complex extremely angsty trauma reason or you could go with the “these 13-16-year-olds(idk Inko’s canon age and as long as I never look it up I can pretend I’m not going against canon by making her only 2-ish years older than them) did what teenagers do and went to a party and made some relatively innocent mistakes and ended up with a pregnancy”)

Dadoro

Oboro and Inko have been neighbors and best friends their whole childhood, despite being a couple years separated in age

The fall before Oboro starts high school, Inko takes him along to a party with her high school friends

They get drunk and sleep together

Inko gets pregnant

They talk it through with each other and their families and agree to keep the baby (they’re both actually pretty excited to be parents) and raise it together platonically

Some months into first year (maybe second), Oboro tells his friends about his kid

Spends the rest of his life gushing about Izuku to all his friends (sorry for the word choice fjdhshshx)

Oboro dies and his friends make pact to help Inko take care of Izuku once they have steady income and stuff

But Inko’s family has moved and she’s married and they can’t find her

They keep searching, for roughly 14 years

And then Midoriya Izuku enrolls in UA’s hero course and his big green eyes and curly green hair match the pictures Oboro used to show them and his smile is identical to their old friend’s

And his mom’s name is Inko

But they’re not sure (His quirk doesn’t match Oboro’s nor his Inko’s after all)

Not until after the first term and the summer training disaster camp and Kamino, when All Might and Aizawa go house to house talking to parents about the dorms and All Might tries to insist on visiting the Midoriyas alone but Aizawa insists right back cause this is the closest he’s come to confirmation

and then he’s face to face with a woman he’s only ever seen in photographs

And then they talk about everything or something idk I haven’t got that far

Dadzawa and Dadmic (trans!aizawa)

A year and a half before he starts high school(I know I changed the timeline a whole year here but shush, how’s he supposed to get into U.A.’s hero course while pregnant?), Aizawa’s middle school and one or two others have a Joint Event, at which he meets a loud but cute blonde who keeps flirting with him

They hook up

He gets pregnant

His dad insists he get an abortion but he doesn’t want to and his mom supports his decision, they convince his dad to let him go through with the pregnancy on the condition that he gives the baby up for adoption immediately

He has twins, both boys (one with green eyes like the blonde’s(but darker) and the other with purple like Shouta’s mother’s)(that’s right, Shinsou is also their son in this, you’re welcome), and he gives them up for adoption to separate families

But with conditions

No one from his blood family is allowed to initiate contact with either boy without the kid’s knowing consent (he’s terrified of his father changing his mind, tracking them down, and hurting them)

With the one exception being that he’s allowed to send each one a birthday present and card every year

Which he does

Then he starts at UA and then gets into the hero course and there he is… the blonde… the father of Shouta’s children… who does not recognize him now that he’s started transitioning

This time Shouta’s the one who flirts - or tries to, the kid’s a little too oblivious

Of course they do eventually get together, and even end up married! (Haven’t decided if they get together during high school or after they start teaching there or what(probably the latter, for plot reasons))

The first time Midoriya Inko contacts Shouta is after Izuku is diagnosed quirkless - she knows the young man loves her son as much as she does and might be able to reassure him where she already failed

His next birthday, Izuku’s mystery card says he can be a hero even without a quirk; it makes Izuku’s year

Hitoshi’s parents also contact Shouta that year, the boy struggling to make and keep friends ever since his quirk came in; Shouta’s birthday card to him isn’t much different from Izuku’s, really

The Shinsous get in an accident and Hitoshi is placed in foster care and suddenly Shouta can’t send him his yearly gift and card anymore cause nobody will tell him where the boy is now because of the contact portion of the adoption contract

They also won’t tell Hitoshi that he was adopted and his birth father is out there looking for him, so Shouta’s pretty sure they’re trying to hide that he’s being mistreated wherever he is

Inko continues to contact Shouta now and then whenever she thinks Izuku will need extra encouragement come his birthday (she never tells Izuku about being adopted - even after he enters his teen years - cause after his diagnosis, everyone but her left him and she doesn’t want him to internalize the idea that his birth parents didn’t want him - Shouta’s not happy with the decision, but he understands)

Then one year he sends Izuku a Present Mic figurine and she writes him to share how excited the boy was and how Present Mic is one of his favorite heroes and he listens to his radio show all the time and Shouta simultaneously melts and has a minor breakdown at the realization that he hasn’t told his husband that they have sons, he can’t tell Hizashi that their son listens to his radio show regularly when Hizashi doesn’t know Izuku even exists

So of course, being the rational man he is, he finally tells Hizashi about Izuku and Hitoshi

Hizashi freaks, of course (in a good way(mostly))

And then, one of the worst days of Shouta’s life

He’s on patrol and sees a figure on a rooftop and rushes to get there - just in case it’s a jumper - and it’s his son, his Izuku

They talk(it doesn’t breach the adoption contract, he didn’t know it was Izuku when he approached and the kid spoke first) and Izuku tells him “everything” about his encounter with All Might, Shouta tells him to tell his parents - they’re there to support him - and also that All Might’s full of shit and a quirkless hero is totally possible with the right training and enough willpower

Then after they leave the rooftop his kid gets in trouble again, rushing in to save a classmate from the same sludge villain that attacked him earlier that day

Of course Shouta swoops in and pulls the kids out of danger before All Might arrives to “save the day”

This time Shouta insists on walking Izuku home to make sure he actually gets there safely

But then All Might shows up again wanting to talk to his kid privately and he wants to tell the man to fuck off but he’s not legally allowed, really, so when Izuku says it’s fine he reluctantly leaves

Inko asks to meet him just days later

She tells him that Izuku told her everything about what happened that day - including what Shouta told him - and she tells him that she’s realized she needs to properly support her son in pursuing his dream

She understands that Shouta wouldn’t feel comfortable training him one-on-one with the kid not knowing who they are to each other, and she’s still not ready to tell him yet, so she asks for a list, for him to help her get in touch with people who can train Izuku or ways for Izuku to train on his own, ways for her to help

He puts her in contact with seven pro heroes (Midnight, Gunhead, the Wild Wild Pussycats, and - somehow - Sir Nighteye) and a vigilante team (the Naruhata Crawler and his team), all of whom he talks into helping - and has to tell about his connection to this boy they’ll be teaching

(Each have something important to teach him: Midnight - using words and body language to throw off opponents, Gunhead - martial arts, Wild Wild Pussycats - stamina, teamwork and use of your environment when out in nature, Sir Nighteye - analysis and planning, the Naruhata Vigilantes - use of gadgets and weapons, use of your environment when in the city, having the heart of a hero, and - most importantly - that quirkless people can be fucking strong and skilled and terrifying and certainly aren’t weak or useless (they were trained by a quirkless vigilante after all, they’re bound to have a different perspective on the idea of a quirkless hero than anyone else, a perspective Izuku could really benefit from))

Ten months later, Izuku passes UA’s entrance exam and is placed in Shouta’s class (he’s pretty sure Nezu did that on purpose)

When the school year starts, he and Hizashi discover that Izuku isn’t the only one in one of their classes - Hitoshi is in Hizashi’s homeroom

They are, of course, fucking extatic

They just need to, y’know, figure out how to tell him that they’re his parents and maybe possibly would love custody of him if he wants

(Again I haven’t gotten any further than that yet)

(Also, if you can’t tell, in this au Izuku turns down All Might’s offer of One for All, cause Eraserhead said he could be a hero without a quirk and was honestly a lot kinder and more responsible (like, making sure the kid got home safely instead of leaving him on a roof) and stuff than All Might and honestly might be his new favorite hero)

#bnha #mha #midoriya izuku #all might #aizawa shouta #shirakumo oboro #monoma neito #yamada hizashi

[chalkrevelations]

Well. Episode 34 of Word of Honor, and, oh.

(Spoilers. Scroll on by and come back later if you want to watch it unspoiled.)

Oh. No. NO, show. Only A-Xiang is supposed to make me cry, so fuck you, Zhou Zishu, with your SAD LITTLE FACE, oh my god, why don’t you just pull my heart out of my chest, throw it down in the dirt and stomp on it? It would be kinder than having to watch you deal with the implications of whatever it is, precisely, you’ve done to yourself that means you’re expecting to drop dead any day and lose your chance at lifetime happiness with your soulmate but are hiding from everyone. (Well, I guess it’s your turn to be hiding something, because it looks like everyone in the jianghu except you was in on at least some part of Wen Kexing’s plan.)

So, the first thing that struck me in this ep is the way ZZS sits at the table at the post-Hero’s Conference meal drinking session, hunched over, like his bones are made of shattered glass, and here’s the thing: He’s absolutely just had a serious emotional blow. But also, this is a guy who’s terminally ill and in chronic pain, and we saw that repeatedly for about the first two-thirds of the show, and then the emphasis on it kind of slacked off. And I’m thinking now that maybe it wasn’t just slack writing or WKX playing his xiao in the rain through the nights at Four Seasons Manor like the worst emo kid ever that helped, that maybe some of the progression of the deadening of ZZS’s senses might have offered him some relief, but whatever it was, I’m wondering if whatever he’s done now – I presume pulled out those gd Nails - has exacerbated everything all over again. I cannot believe that at least Wu Xi can’t look at the way he’s moving and holding himself at the table and see that he’s not just stone-cold angry and emotionally hurt about being left out of the loop, he’s in physical pain. Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s a little like being stabbed in the chest when he gets confirmation that Chengling and WKX were in on WKX’s “death” together while he was in the dark and believed this asshole actually died on him. But I also think we’re getting physical pain ramped up again from him; there’s a hesitation and delicacy of movement that speaks of someone who’s judging their movements and maintaining a high level of control, because if they do make a wrong move, everything could just explode into agony. I also noticed the way he clutches his cup when A-Xiang starts explaining how WKX made a deal with Xie Wang in order to rescue ZZS from Tian Chuang, and I can’t for the life of me figure out if it’s having to hear about WKX finding himself in that position in order to save him, or if it’s A-Xiang calling him “Sick Dude” at a moment when that’s going to press right on one of the tenderest, most vulnerable places. Because, god, everyone else at this table who even knows about his terminal illness still thinks that Wu Xi is going to be able to fix him. And here’s where ZZS apparently is a better person than me, because I don’t know that I wouldn’t have an absolute breakdown and end up throwing it in WKX’s face that if he had just told me what was going on, maybe I wouldn’t be about to drop dead tomorrow and leave him alone for the rest of his life, asshole. But no! His zhiji’s happiness is so important to ZZS, that he’s not going to say a word about it! It’s more important than his own life, that his shidi has been able to avenge his parents while keeping his own hands (relatively) clean of any more sins. He’s going to continue to be there, to be whatever WKX needs him to be, for however few days he has left. I won’t fail you. (Even when you fail me). Here’s the thing though – at some point, you’re going to drop dead, Zhou Zishu. And apparently you’re going to leave WKX completely unprepared for it, so I don’t know that you’re doing him any favors being the one who’s hiding something, this time around. And oh my god, I just realized something – you made him drink three pots of liquor as a punishment – was that to get him so blind drunk he wouldn’t notice the Nails were gone? You realize you have to tell him at some point, right?

ANYWAY, WKX gets sloppy drunk and stumbles into their(? has everyone just given up any pretense at this point?) bedroom, and first of all, can I take a minute to flail over the way ZZS pushes drunk WKX’s hair back off of his shoulder? Can I? Because I rewound and re-watched that 2 seconds of the show three times. But then, then, WKX starts drunken rambling about how happy he is, and how scared he’d been that he wasn’t worthy of ZZS, and tears start welling up in ZZS’s stupid eyes, and WKX starts talking about how finding ZZS made him a whole new person, and ZZS’s stupid precious face gets SO SAD, and I start fucking welling up too, and then WKX talks about his parents and their shifu, and ZZS presses WKX’s head to his chest and gives us his stupid sad little smile, and I’m literally clutching my shirt hem in inarticulate pain and distress by this point, and then ZZS starts to break down as he holds WKX’s hand as WKX finally falls asleep, and he gives that stupid shaky sobbing little gasp, and just UGH. I’m DYING here, show. Also, how did you manage to do this to me with just your face, Zhang Zhehan? I’m not sure I can take the next couple of episodes, when the whole Nails dilemma is sure to come out.

Second big takeaway of this ep is that I just … oh my god. I cannot with you, Xie’er, holy shit. And I say this in a completely loving yet utterly aghast way. Was it absolutely necessary to literally sit on Awful Yifu’s lap? I’m reduced to a state of horrified laughter over the envelope pushing. The absolute fuckery of the power dynamic fluctuations of the Zhao Jing/Xie Wang relationship at this point … it’s something. It’s finally reached a point where it’s so fucky and complex that I may have to go looking for some fic, despite my general desire to punt Awful Yifu into the sun. I do have to say that the whole (one-sided) conversation when Xie’er finally let everything out was super-cathartic. Go off with your unfilial self, Xie’er. Li Daikun has been amazing all through this, and he’s continuing to maintain a perfect balance as we move toward the finish line. I’ve heard he was offered Wen Kexing and supposedly didn’t want to take the role because he didn’t think he was ready for it? And while I absolutely appreciate Gong Jun and the chemistry between ZZS and WKX that he built with Zhang Zhehan, I’m flabbergasted that Li Daikun was able to pull off Xie’er like this, yet thought he couldn’t manage WKX ... and I have to admit, I kind of would like to see what WKX would have been in his hands. I’ve also heard a rumor that they’re talking about maybe filming an origin story for Xie Wang? I … am torn, because on the one hand, more Xie’er, but on the other, more Awful Yifu. Anyway, I think we’re continuing to see a whole tangle of resonances between Xie’er, Wen Kexing, and Zhou Zishu, and the awful men in their lives who helped make them who they are today; there’s something of a contrast between Zhou Zishu, who, maybe significantly, was older and had some grounding from his Four Seasons shifu when he got tangled up with Prince Jin and Tian Chuang and who was willing to gnaw off his own leg to get out of the trap (and only finally struck back because he was forcibly taken back) and the other two, one of whom killed and … dismembered? flayed? his abuser before taking his literal throne, and the other of whom turned his abuser into a muted … piece of furniture? sex toy? before taking his figurative throne. Xie’er is about five steps behind Wen Kexing on a parallel path, and maybe there’s still time for him to untangle some of the fuckery in his head about his awful yifu. But meanwhile, there it is: You failed me. Xie’er, you’re breaking my heart, but I feel like I have to point out, again, this is the guy who is literally responsible for the existence of the Department of the Unfaithful. I did have a brief moment when I was convinced Xie’er was poisoning himself and Awful Yifu in a murder-suicide move, but then we got lap-sitting instead? Which could have made me think we were getting some kind of reversion to wanting to feel safe, like a kid able to (finally) sit in his father’s lap and play at comfort, but then he went and made it – let’s be honest – a little weird.

Last really big takeaway for me from this ep is that A-Xiang and I continue to be simpatico, because lady, I also have a very very bad feeling about Fan Shishu’s absence in this wedding “party” from the Gentle Wind Sword Sect, and watching your dawning realization at the end of the episode when he doesn’t show up and doesn’t show up and doesn’t show up as the group enters only confirmed my suspicions that something is UP. Am I supposed to expect a fakeout to Mo Huaiyang’s haranguing speech to Cao Weining, with a wrap-up of “But since you clearly love her so much and want to be a good influence …” Because I won’t believe it. And I’m not going to be happy or comfortable until we see the back of this asshole, because speaking of somebody who says everything with his face, Mo Huaiyang was NOT happy when Ye Baiyi called off the rest of the Heroes Conference, after his horse in the race had already been completely repudiated and he lost whatever chance he had at gaining power and influence on Zhao Jing’s back. Even if he did come all this way – bearing gifts – just to tell Cao Weining he’s an ungrateful brat and to never darken the door of Gentle Wind Sword Sect, it would still be a jerkass thing to do. But I don’t trust him as far as I could spit, and my only question at this point is whether all of Cao Weining’s shidi who came with him to the wedding are in on whatever bs Mo Huaiyang’s planning to pull.

A couple other random things:

Oh, so A-Xiang’s two moms are going to stay together for the rest of their lives, are they? And Liu Qianqiao is even like, “Loser Boyfriend? I don’t know him.” Followed by a cut to Luo Fumeng and her vaguely smug reaction. I’m dying.

No one’s going to say anything about this random body that Wen Kexing used for his plan? Just, you know, went to the store or something and picked out a random body? I realize it’s very late in the game to be getting moralistic about the adorable merciless killers, but come on, man. I also think we have once again overused the infodump. I realize we only have 35 episodes, but some of this explanation of WKX’s very complex plan should have been shown, not told. Anyway, cue series of flashbacks to finally explain how the whole Rube Goldberg plan was put in place, and ah-hah! WKX, himself, talked to Chengling ahead of time. I notice that in that flashback scene and the one when he talks to Ye Baiyi, he’s prominently still wearing That Hairpin, so we’ll realize this all got set into motion before ZZS was rescued and brought home.

Finally, why has everyone seem to have forgotten (still) about that KEY that WKX was waving around? No one’s going to mention it? Really?

And now, I think I’m going to fortify myself with some bourbon for the next ep.

#zhou zishu #wen kexing #xie wang #zhao jing #gu xiang #word of honor #word of honor episode reax

[frostedfaves]

Shouldn’t Come Back

Pairing: Jake Peralta x fem!reader

Summary: A ghost from Y/N’s past comes back to haunt her.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: mentions of abuse/assault, abusive parent, panic attack insinuated, angst

-

Y/N walked into the bullpen a few minutes before the start of her shift, placing her purse on her desk and smiling at Gina and Amy as Gina waved from her desk.

"Hey guys!" she called enthusiastically.

"Hey, Y/N. What's got you so cheery this morning?" Amy asked with a hint of a smirk.

"Amy, not everyone's life is as sad as yours," Gina cut in before Y/N could respond, shrugging when Amy rolled her eyes.

"Nothing really. I guess I just have a good feeling about today," Y/N told Amy.

"Now how can you say that when you haven't even seen your boyfriend yet?"

Y/N turned at the sound of the voice, laughing when she spotted Jake. "Well hello there, Detective Conceited," she joked as she met him in the middle of their desks, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You were almost late, ya know."

Jake slipped his arms around her waist, gently tugging on a couple belt loops. "If I was late, I'd hear Captain Robot going 'Peralta, you're late'."

"Peralta, you're late," came Holt's voice as he walked through the bullpen with Terry. "Briefing room, now."

Y/N turned back to Jake, laughing at his shocked expression and leaving a quick kiss on his lips before following everyone else into the briefing room.

-

"That's all I have, and now I believe that Sergeant Jeffords has some news for us."

Holt stepped away from the podium after assigning new cases and asking for updates on the current ones, allowing Terry to step up.

"There was a recent prison escape by a convicted sexual predator. He managed to escape using the external laundry service."

"How long has he been in there?" Y/N questioned.

"He's twenty years into a life sentence. Actually, I know you would've been quite young when he was sentenced, but do you recognize him? Has the same last name as you, F/N L/N."

Y/N couldn't seem to tear her gaze away from the picture Terry brought up on the projector screen in the front of the room. Her palms began to sweat as she stared into those eyes of a man she'd hated for so long, eyes that she never thought she'd have the displeasure of seeing again for as long as she lived. His hair had grayed since she'd last seen him, face sporting wrinkles, but that didn't make the lump forming in her throat any smaller.

"You okay, babe?" Jake's gentle hand on her thigh brought her back into the room with the others, also making her aware of how fast her heart was beating.

"Yeah," she croaked out just loud enough to reach Jake's ears, tearing herself away from that damned picture and clearing her throat. "Yeah, I just need to...I'll be back." One last glance at the picture had her standing suddenly, fleeing the room.

-

Jake found her minutes later on the roof, hearing her fast paced breathing before seeing her against the wall. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her legs, head leaned back against the wall with her eyes closed. He approached her quietly, noticing the quick rise and fall motion of her chest.

"Y/N, baby, everything's fine. Okay? I'm here," He told her quietly as he sat beside her, taking in how rigid her body was next to him.

"Here, follow my breathing."

He unclenches her right fist and brings her hand over to rest on his heart as he demonstrated a calmer method of breathing. He kept watching as time went by and eventually her exhales weren't so loud, and her other hand relaxed too. Another couple minutes passed before her eyes opened.

"Thank you," she finally spoke, tears building as soon as she found the courage to look at him.

"Of course." He picked her hand up away from his chest and kissed her palm, moving it to rest against his cheek as he stroked the back of it with his thumb. "Are you okay to tell me what's going on now? I've never seen you that upset before."

"I'm sorry, I just..." She paused to take a deep breath, allowing the tears to stream freely as she turned her gaze to her legs. "I'm the reason he's in jail, or at least, was in jail. He's my father."

"Oh." Jake took his free arm and wrapped it around her to pull her closer, feeling a wave of protectiveness wash over him. "What did he do? If you don't mind telling me."

"He was just...he did a lot of terrible things. Some of them to others, and some of them to me. He threatened to have my mom killed if I told anyone, but she found out anyway and convinced me to report him. She promised nothing bad would happen to her or me and so I did it and he's been in jail ever since.

"I don't know. I guess I freaked out because I thought I'd never have to see him again, the thought of at least knowing he was locked away forever being a comfort. But now he's out God knows where and—"

Her sentence was cut short by a fresh round of sobs, nearly choking her with the sudden force. Jake kept a strong hold on her as she collapsed into him, trying to hold onto his own tears as he sat and listened to her release all the pain she'd been holding onto for the past twenty years or more.

When her sobs began to subside, Jake lifted his head and kept an arm around Y/N as he used his other hand to guide her chin upward. "Listen, I might not be able to go get him myself because Holt put someone else on the case, but I do promise to make you feel as safe as I can until they catch him. They will catch him."

Y/N nodded, sniffling a bit. "I know, it's just really fucking scary. Before I always knew where he was, prison. Locked up and guarded and just kept away from me. Now he could be anywhere. But I do feel better knowing that I have New York's second best detective watching over me."

Jake grinned down at her, carefully wiping away the lingering tears on her cheeks with his thumb. "Slightly inaccurate description of me but yes, you do. And I'm always going to be here."

-

Jake walked out of the elevator a few hours later, frowning when he didn't spot Y/N at her desk. "Hey, has anyone seen Y/N?" He asks Rosa, Charles, and Amy as he came into the break room.

"She left about half an hour ago. I could tell she needed a bit of calming down still from earlier so I offered to make her some of my soothing basil and bat toe stew for lunch," Charles replied, causing Jake to grimace.

"Yeah, and surprisingly she still had the appetite after that for a cheddar bagel and some chai tea from the bakery downstairs," Amy added.

Before Jake could reply, his phone started ringing and he pulled it out of her pocket, smiling when he saw Y/N grinning at him from the screen.

"Hey babe, you alright? Hello...? Y/N?" He frowned and looked up at the other detectives who seemed just as confused. "I can't hear anything."

He put the phone on speaker and set it on the table in the middle of everyone, hoping they could hear something he couldn't. There was static and wind for a moment, and then a scratchy male voice came through the speaker.

"I have your girlfriend." The call ended.

#b99 fic #b99 imagine #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn nine nine imagine #jake peralta #jake peralta imagine #jake peralta x fem!reader #jake peralta x reader

[twstwonderlandstuff]

Jamil with a doting and loving little sister

why the fuck does this exist- i dont fucking know

Spoilers for Scary Halloween Event ahead!

“Karin!” A young girl with long, dark hair yelled. “Please don’t run!”

“Eh? But aren’t you excited to see your big brother, Aniq?” Karin shot back, her loose, white hair flitting through the air. “I can’t wait to see what Scarabia’s doing for Halloween this year~!”

“I am too, but...” Aniq forcefully pulled Karin back, leaving Aniq to pout. “I can’t have you ruining the Asim family name looking like that.”

“Eh? But I’m the 12th, it’s not that important.” Karin dragged out, dramatically walking back towards her right-hand (wo)man/best friend. Pouting, she reluctantly let Aniq tidy her appearance- carefully tying the whit turban back in place, tugging the aqua-blue sleeveless top so it covers her decently, making sure the matching colored parachute pants reach her bottoms and shining the golden jewel that rests on her sandals it’s Jasmine.

“There, much better.” Aniq gave her a once over, satisfied at the appearance. “Wait, let me do yours too!” Karin insisted, roughly cleaning Aniq’s image. 

“Ah, don’t-” Aniq gave up, letting the girl do as she pleased- well, it’s not like anyone can see them, right? Just in case, Aniq gave the room they were in (Karin’s room) a onceover, glad that nothing was amiss.

In contrast to Karin, Aniq wore a very simple black cloak that draped gracefully over her shoulders and a collared, midi-length, grey dress that has buttons running its entire length. For a pop of color, orange, curly-toed shoes line her feet (it’s a witch)

“There~ you look better, see?” Karin grinned. “Now we can both look good!”

“Well, I guess... thanks.” Aniq replied, twirling around. “Well then, my lady, shall we go?” She teasingly asked, offering Karin an arm.

“But of course. We can’t have our brother’s anxiously wait for our arrival, can’t we?” Karin answered in kind, looping her arm in hers. 

“They don’t even know we’re coming, how are they supposed to wait?” Aniq sighed. “I wonder if this is really ok...”

“It’s fine, chill. My dad already said ok, and I forced your parents to take you with me!” Karin casually replied, stepping out of the room. A glare from Aniq made her soften her voice.

"You and your abuse of power...” Aniq sighed. “If my parents knew I told you to...”

“Hihihi... ahh, just relax already! We’re going to have fun, and you are prohibited from being anxious, do you understand?! This is a command straight from the master herself, okay?!” Karin commanded, booping Aniq’s nose.

“Hai hai~” The two of them laughed good-naturedly, chatting light-heartedly about other things.

*

"Woah!” Karin exclaimed. “Is this what NRC looks like when it’s Halloween?! It looks so cool...!”

“I know right?!” Aniq noticed a man with what seems like bandages, but made into clothes on him. “Oh, there’s a guy sitting there- let’s ask him for the directions of the Scarabia dorms- oh wait, isn’t that the dorm leader of Octavinelle?”

“Hmm, maybe? I think I remember someone looking like that when we came here last year.” Karin hummed, walking placentally towards the guy. “Excuse me, do you know where the Scarabia venues are?”

"Oh, welcome and happy Halloween. Yes, they are located in the Mystery shop.” Azul explained. “Do you have anything else to add?”

“No, that’s all. Thank you, and happy Halloween!” Aniq replied, flashing him a quick thank you smile before leaving with Karin. 

“Eh, you remember the way?”

“Duh~ I mean, do I not have good memory?” Aniq flexed lightly, grinning.

“Oh yeah, you helped me cheat on that test one time-”

“Ahhh shaddup don’t talk about that!” 

“Eh- but you’re the that brought up the topic!” Karin argued back.

“No, you did! I didn’t say a word about tests!”

“Oh yeah.. ahaha...”

“Ah, what am I going to do with you?” Aniq sighed, shaking her head and smiling. 

*

“There they are- oh...” Aniq’s spirit dissipated after seeing to long, long line that stood in front of the Mystery Shop. “H...how are we supposed to find big bro and Kalim-san now...?”

“Ahh, I don’t know...” Karin echoed, sighing sadly. “But I’m so lazy to wait in line...”

“I’ll wait for you, you go do something else.” Aniq suggested. “I think we passed a haunted house or something. You love those things, right?”

“Yup, thanks Aniq! Karin playfully teased, pressing her lips on Aniq’s cheek. “See ya!”

Aniq blushed deeply, but managed to wave her off. “Honestly, that girl...!” She grunted under her breath, a little bothered. “She’s way too affectionate...”

Aniq aligned herself in the queue, looking around. It certainly is more crowded then last year. I wonder why- oh, right, because of that picture of the ghosts and the cat. Ahh, I kind of want to see the cat... it looks so cute! She thought, smiling at the thought. And the cute girl too... I wonder why there’s a girl in NRC? Ah well, I can ask big bro, can’t I?

She grinned happily at the thought and accidentally overheard the chatter of a few people.

“Ahh, I wonder what angles I should take for the waffle?” Girl A pondered, asking her friend.

“I think from up high is good because the lighting is better. That way, the post will definitely get more likes.” Girl B answered, concluding Girl A’s response.

“Hey, are we going to actually eat the waffle? No, right? It’s so annoying to walk around holding this around...” Girl A sighed, hesitantly looking at the waffle store.

“But it says not to throw it here...eh, I’m sure its fine since everyone is doing it too!”

“Right, right!” The two continued chattering, but Aniq’s eyes went straight for the trash can.

She glanced at the pile of waffles and containers surrounding the trash can. Ahh, I don’t think big bro is going to enjoy that... She spotted several caterpillars and slugs on the trash can and sighed. Most definitely not.

Silently, quietly, she muttered a spell: Spread your wings, and turn the ugly to good.

After a few seconds, the pile of trash became a flight of butterflies, which quickly dissapeared and flitted into the air, along with the caterpillars and slugs.

“Woah, the trash just dissapeared! Is that the way they clean the trash?” Girl A gasped, shaking Girl B by the shoulders.

“So pretty! Let’s throw some more trash so we can see it again! Maybe if we put it on Magicam it’ll become viral!” Girl B added. 

That’s not what I meant to do! “Don’t-” The word slipped out before Aniq could stop herself. The two strangers in front of her glared at her. 

“Have you been eavesdropping on us? That’s rude.”

“Ah- I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help it when you said that you’d continue littering.” She countered calmly.

“Why not? It doesn’t hurt anyone, right?”

“Well, there is a sign clearly indicating that you shouldn’t throw trash, but if you ignore that, then yes, the actions you did obviously have no impact at all.” She chastised sarcastically, pointing towards the sign. 

“Ahh, so annoying! Let’s just wait for the waffles another time. I’m tired of waiting in line anyway.” Girl A said, shooting a dirty glance at Aniq, which she subtly ignored. 

“Yeah.. oh, let’s go to Savanaclaw! Maybe the rumor that...” The 2 customers walked away, letting Aniq take their place. 

**

2 people away from my order... come on, hurry up! Aniq thought impatiently. Ah, shit, where’s Karin?

She hurriedly pulled out her phone and called. After precisely 3 rings, Karin’s cheery voice rang from the other side. 

Hello?

Is everything okay on your end?

Ehh, are you worried~?

When am I never worried? Aniq deadpanned.

That’s true, yeah. I’m okay! I took a picture with THE Malleus Draconia, can you believe it?! I mean, there were these people who tried touching him, but I got a brain, so I didn’t do that. 

Heh?! Really? Woah, they have some guts! Aniq replied in surprise. 

“Next.” She stepped forward one step, noticing that the server had some wolf ears attached to them. Hmm, I don’t remember Scarabia students having animal ears... it’s probably for the costume.

Oh, and I found the cute girl in the picture you were talking about! 

Eh, did you find the cat and the ghosts too?! Send me the pictures ya! Aniq reminded her.

Yup, will do~ Karin replied fleetingly. They were swarmed with people haha! I pitied them, so I just... watched as the throng of people overwhelmed them. The people were saying something about the Malleus Draconia challenge, or something.

Eh, really? What’s it about?

Like, they have to film them touching him. Isn’t that crazy?

Well, more like moronic but yeah, I guess. I heard a few people talk about Magicam here too. ‘Let’s upload the waffle pictures! It’ll definitely get a lot of likes!’ then they throw it away! So stupid, right? Karin snorted.

...Are there people in the area-

Oh shit-

Oh my god you dumbass- Aniq could hear her friend laugh. Well, order some waffles for me, okay? I’m headed over there right now.

Aight then, bye!

Bai bai~

Click.

“Next, please!” The Scarabia student called, prompting Aniq to eagerly step forward, happy to see her big brother-

“Oh, is that you, Aniq?” Kalim cheerfully asked, prompting Aniq to quickly bow. 

“Ah, Kalim-sama!” Kalim laughed. 

“Raise your head up, jeez! I told you over and over you don’t need to do that, ya know~” Kalim lectured playfully, resulting in a quiet giggle from Aniq.

“Yes, master!” She inclined, using her left hand as a salute. “Can I take a picture- after I order, of course!”

“Sure!” Kalim agreed. “So, what do you want?”

“2 NRC waffles, please.” Kalim cringed at the word. “You’re going to actually eat it, right~?”

“Of course! What’s the point of buying food you’re not going to eat?” She casually answered back. 

“Don’t be so casual, Aniq.” Jamil’s voice floated through the booth. She grinned once she saw him. 

“Big bro!” Jamil was quick to give her a head pat, which she radiated from. “Aha, sorry... it slips out sometimes.”

“Hmm.” Jamil replied. “Kalim, the residents of Scarabia are asking for your help. Can you handle it by yourself?”

Kalim nodded, putting a thumbs up. “Leave it to me!” He then left to help with whatever needed to be done.

Aniq eyed her big brother. “Oh, you’re donned in a costume too, big bro.”

“All vice-dorm leaders and leaders are required to wear the costumes.” 

“Oh, did you make it, big bro?” Jamil shook his head. 

“No, Vil did- Pomefiore dorm leader.”

“Ahhh, you mean the pretty guy in charge of the mirror of chambers?” Jamil nodded. “I saw it on one of the flyers plastered on the walls.” 

"Ah, that makes sense. Ah, Aniq.”

“Mhmm?”

“Can you guess the theme of our dorm venue? I’ll add in a special treat if you guess it right.” Jamil teased, watching his sister’s eyes light up. 

“Really?! Well, um...” Her eyes quickly darted to take in the surroundings. The ragged carpet draped across the trees and roofs, with lanterns hanging from the trees. “Well, it’s very LHS (Land of Hot Sands)… oh!” She gasped, clicking her fingers. “Is it recyclable material? The carpets are made out of rags, and the lanterns out of reusable plastic.”

Jamil hummed, genuinely pleased. “You’re right.” Aniq beamed at the praise. ““I assume you’re with Karin?” He questioned.

“Mhmm, but she’s in the haunted house, or wherever Malleus Draconia is in. ”Oh, by the way, bro, what’s with the trash piling in front of the station? Are people really just buying the waffles to take pictures on Magicam?” Aniq asked, watching his eyebrows furrow.

"Unfortunately.” Jamil sighed. handing her the cones. "We tried telling them off, but they wouldn’t listen. They also bugged with Kalim’s tail.” Jamil smiled smugly, giving her the scones back. “Oh, and thank you for the trash.” 

“Ah, you saw, big bro?” She asked happily. Jamil shook his head. “You shouldn’t be using your UM so casually.”

“I know, I know, but it did help, right?” She grinned, but before she could continue, someone behind her whispered: “Oh my god she’s taking so long!”

“Oh, right!” Aniq quickly realized. “Um, chocolate for me and Mint choc-chip for Karin.”

“Of course.” Jamil got right to it, taking the wrappers from their containers. 

“How’s everything going, big bro?” Jamil raised an eyebrow at the question. “You know what I mean, with Kalim-sama... and everything.” Aniq asked, staring straight at her brother, who sighed deeply. 

"Don’t say that out in public.”

“But I’m worried! You’re doing okay, right?” Aniq frowned.

“It’s been... decent. He still treats me like a friend, no matter how many times I shrug him off. It’s annoying.” Jamil hissed, putting more force then usual when putting the waffles. “I’m just thankful nobody- except you- knows about this back home.”

“Ahaha... Kalim-sama is always like tha-” Her phone rang, interrupting her talk.

Hell-

ANIQ SOMETHING HAPPENED!

Jamil, well understanding the circumstances, quickly handed her the waffles, mouthing ‘For free.’ Aniq grinned in thanks and waved goodbye, walking away. 

What happened?!

I found this cute guy, and- Aniq wanted to slap her.

Oh my god, I thought you were in ACTUAL trouble you dumbass!

Hehe- anyways I found this really cute guy and he’s got ears and- OH MY GOD HE’S COMING MY WAY- oh nevermind he’s walking away...

Aniq couldn’t help but laugh at her friend’s simping level. I’ll be there right away. Maybe we can get you to score a date with him.

so basically lads

Aniq (which means classy in Arabic haha see what I did there): Jamil’s younger sister

Karin (a play on the Kalim’s name): Kalim’s younger sister

also they cute Karin’s just rlly affectionate 

#kalim al asim #kalim twst #twst kalim #jamil viper #jamil twst #twst jamil #oc twst #kind of oc #twst #twisted wonderland #lads immmm #once again simping FOR THAT KALIM SPRITE OF MY FUCKING FOD #immaculate #vertical-align: inherit; #<font style=><font style=>my writing</font></font>

[imuybemovoko]

My beliefs now

I set this blog up for a bunch of different purposes including conlangs/worldbuilding stuff, my writing, and my views on religion and maybe also politics. So far, mostly, I’ve ranted a lot about the beliefs I left behind. Now that I’ve let that particular sketchy brand of Christianity, now that I’ve discovered the ways it and my conservative family background were probably turning me into a fascist while I was still in all that, I figure I might as well try to hash out where I stand now. I’m around eleven months out from my deconversion, and a lot has already changed. I might try to attempt a before and after thing but there’s a lot to unpack about how I used to think and I’m not sure I’ve understood everything yet. I think I made the mistake of thinking that not very long before that repressed memory about “Sharon” and her Jonah display came crashing back in March. This is current to late July 2020 and may not include everything. 

So without any further ado, let’s talk background. First, some things I’ve already either mentioned or given more than enough evidence for. I used to be a Christian fundamentalist. (Clearly. I rant about it a lot.) I got into that because I was raised religious, then let myself fall right the fuck into what I’ll call “deep end lite” shortly before senior year in high school. Some local churches in my small town arranged a missions trip thing and the way I agreed to go along felt in the moment like surrendering to a voice that’s been speaking to me all along. In ...a way, it was. Just not the voice I thought. I’m pretty sure I didn’t want this god, at any point like ever, until that little part of me whispered that it would be easier to accept him. I have a megathread document that I’ve stored a lot of my “God stories” from my time as a Christian in. Unfortunately I didn’t remember many specific details of this experience to write down in there, but I did write a bit of a “life-story” thing that reminds me that, chronologically, that happened after a period of focused attempts by the church to indoctrinate me, some traumatic things my family did, social struggles, and feeling like an asshole because of things I’d done in the past. I remember having this growing sense over the previous year that I was approaching some kind of very dangerous breaking point, to the point where (trigger warning: mental instability, school shooter mention. Please either stop here or skip to where it says “in other words” in the next paragraph after this if that’s going to be an issue. It also keeps getting dark from there for a minute. Please, please tread with care if you need to. There is no shame at all if this becomes too much. Take care of yourself first and foremost.) 

when discussing how I came to accept the faith, I told some of my Christian friends that I felt like there was a scary chance of me becoming a school shooter. I think this may have been a post-hoc projection, but I can’t quite be sure of that. I was in a bad place for a bit there in high school. I had a wild temper and some sketchy intrusive thoughts.

In other words, it hit at a perfect moment of weakness. That’s how oppressive forms of spirituality function, it’s how hate groups function... it’s a massive shit cocktail and I found a pretty bad influence in the form of people who promote that whole “born again experience” thing in Christianity. I’d say I’m glad I missed out on being dragged into a fascist ideology this way, but uh... I’m no longer convinced I didn’t grow up around something like that. More later. 

From there I spiraled my way through my first attempts at college through the university’s chapter of the Chi Alpha campus ministry and, peripherally through that, Assemblies of God (holy shit those guys are wild), then through a local Baptist church (more peripherally) and Calvary Chapel (I was a worship guitarist here for like 18 months and helped with their youth ministry for almost as long) closer to home and a CRU chapter at my community college. With each passing year I slipped further and further into this weird shame-induced funk where I got like... addicted to Jesus and hated myself or something. It’s a bit hard to find words that don’t take multiple entire extra pages and I want to be concise, so I’ll simply call it “Jesus-flavored depression” for brevity and because that was enough of a genuinely bad time (and I’m still fucked up enough) that I might need some fairly serious therapy.

Near the end of 2018 I was reaching a breaking point, wondering why nothing ever seemed to change in my life from “sexual sin” (...which in my case literally consisted of being attracted to women and occasional self-pleasure, but they literally teach you to hate yourself for less than that in the spicier churches rip) to my direction in life to how trapped I felt by my family. I also started to have more questions about the violence in the Bible and some of the sketchier doctrines, and that was strongly reinforced by some of the things I saw in a creative writing class I took, including an atheist who shared a story of a profoundly negative experience involving being taught about hell at a very young age. All that led to the absolute disaster that was December 2018. It was my last semester at the community college I went to. Finals week was a fucking disaster, and the week before that too, and my grades were really good but at great cost. I won’t go into a ton of detail because 1. space concerns and 2. this time is still damn painful to discuss, but just know that I’m unconvinced I’d have survived that month without this song. (Yes, that’s Paramore. Shut up xD they’re still good.) I looped it for like three days straight and I think it was just enough to keep me going through what was the third time I had any suicidal kind of thoughts ever and by far the worst and longest period of it so far.

So the next several months (and I won’t go into a ton of detail about this, I intended this post more to describe my current position and I don’t wanna get too in the weeds with background) were a confusing period of questioning, starting with, of all things, my family dynamic. The spiral after the week before finals was ...considerably worsened by some comments my dad made, and between that and some experiences in the past that the creative writing class I took that fall reminded me of, I was exposed to a bit of a deeply toxic pattern. I might discuss that more deeply in another post, but for now suffice it to say that extensive youtube binges and some other research between about January and March told me the situation is probably adjacent to pathological narcissism in some way. I brought some of this up to the church I was attending at the time (a small town Calvary Chapel, if I haven’t mentioned that already) and their responses were ...inconsistent. Some people blamed me, some people said “oh dang your dad is abusive”, and some people took the “your parents are trying their best” tack. In retrospect I think that made me doubt if God’s messaging to these people could really be trusted. Then, in about April, the question of hell came up again. I was helping in the church’s budding youth ministry at the time and we had about four regular attendees between the ages of 12 and 18. There were about three weeks in a row when one of the other adults (I’ll call her Kelly for the purposes of not doxxing; also more on her later) talked at length about how unbelief leads to hell. I remembered that atheist from creative writing, made the connection to these four kids, and thought, “what the hell are we doing?” (Pun not intended but rather convenient.) I immediately backed down from my role in the youth ministry, citing other equally valid but less pressing reasons involving stress from the issues with my dad, and tried to go on with life. But the floodgates were open. 

In late May or early June, I was staring out a window one morning and suddenly a question crossed my mind unbidden: “Is God a narcissist?” I thought back to a relatively recent sermon by the associate pastor in which he explained that the purpose of the world was “for God’s glory”, to some apparent sudden flights of rage, and some other factors in the scriptures, and thought, “holy shit, I need to investigate this, because God is also very adjacent to narcissism.” It took a hot minute for the ball to really get rolling with that, but once it did... I came to a point by late June or early July where I delivered an ultimatum to God, something to the tune of “Ok, either show me how all these questions I have can be answered beyond a doubt or I’m done.” 

There was no answer. 

God was silent during this time, and the people in the church were shocked that I had the questions I did and either concerned or ...rather spicy. I joined an ex-Christian discord server to aid in a proper, thorough investigation. I aired my questions both there and on a Christian discord server. The Christian server was toxic as fuck and the ex-Christians started making a crazy amount of sense. I watched some videos from Cosmic Skeptic and TheraminTrees (most notably the latter’s deconversion story) for new perspectives and, by mid-August, had crashed out of the faith altogether.

So the last time I ever stepped into a church with the intent of attending service (I showed up after once in January of 2020 to kinda let them know and that went pretty badly lol) was about two weeks before I started college again in the fall. I burned all but one of my Bibles and a collection of gospel tracts I never did anything else with and stylized it like my limited understanding of what a satanic/pagan ritual looked like, complete with a chant in my conlang Aylaan for a more personal twist because of course, to feel edgy. (I did a lot of kind of weird shit to feel edgy; that’s one of two of them I’m sure I don’t regret.) And after that, things got ...ah, confusing?

Because of course when the linchpin of your understanding of the world gives way, everything becomes fucked for a hot minute. 

So the first thing that happened was a couple months of anxiety and confusion. I slowly started to deconstruct my inherited political views too. (More on that later.) Then I had this really beautiful interesting moment in late September where I walked past a tree on the way to a class and had a sudden realization that I didn’t have to force the tree into a Christian framework anymore, it was just a beautiful mass of green shit and cellulose. I could appreciate it in whatever way I felt was best. I damn near broke down crying in the bathroom before class, it hit me that hard. So that’s fun xD

Since then I’ve kinda gone through a bunch of funky phases with this, including a couple of months of fairly salty atheism. Along with that process, I started questioning my sexuality in December (more on that in another post in a minute lmao it’s a trip) and literally shredding my politics in the face of Trump being a crackhead in a dangerous position getting away with confirmed illegal shit, COVID-19 and the ...dehumanizing responses of corporations and their sponsored politicians, and then what I noticed about the deaths of Ahmaud Arbery and George Floyd and the fallout from that. (In a nutshell, holy FUCK there’s a huge problem and it’s messed up that people don’t see it.) At this point, I’m socially progressive and pretty left leaning. I don’t know what the hell to do about it or how either other than some of the tense discussions I’ve been having, but I’d like to work against racism and discrimination too. So that’s cool and a lot better than where I was... 

which... I regret deeply.

I don’t know exactly how to define my old political views, and they were marked by considerable cognitive dissonance. I’ll try to illustrate this as best I can but I don’t know what label I can use. Here goes. 

Cursed images aside, I think the best way to explain this is through some background, i.e. what my parents believe, because my beliefs were largely inherited. 

This might be majorly over-simplified and based on what I remember of my own pre-deconstruction views and what I hear them say lately. I’m doing my best, but take it with a grain of salt. Basically, it seems like they walk this weird line between constitutionalist and very authoritarian that I see a hell of a lot of in rural America. Kinda like the Republic party used to before they yeeted into Trump’s mindfuck wholeheartedly. They’re homophobic to a rather alarming degree (more on that in another post soon) and not ...overtly Christian-supremacist but you can tell that their ethics are dripping with it and they’re terrified of Islam and they’d like to legislate some aspects of Christian morality. They also support the second amendment, which is the one thing I still agree with them on that I’m aware of, but they take it to more of an extreme than I’m willing to. For further ...flavor, they also reject the premise that parts of our society are systemically racist (and maybe also the idea that such a thing is even possible because of course), subscribe to the “bootstrap theory” for everything they can think to apply it to, reject climate science, and have been extremely conspiratorial about COVID-19. Also they like making it out like everything is a Democrat conspiracy theory, compare the Democrats to Hitler and Stalin to a weird degree, have on at least one occasion called Fox Motherfucking News left-leaning, and think Alex Jones is wacky but sometimes raises valid points. 

So that’s, in a nutshell, a bit of a look at my past political views, except I think I was a bit more Christian-dominionist than them and I think I had moments of “...does this really make any sense?” for years before I crashed out of everything. The first domino was my Christianity, but once that fell, my entire approach to the world went some places. 

So ...yeah. Oof. I was sketchy as shit. Glad that’s changed. 

So uh... I’ve already mentioned a vague (read: as much detail as I feel confident providing) description of my political views now, but after all this bullshit let’s finally get to the other half of my titular current beliefs. This ...isn’t going to be easy to explain either, but I feel more confident going into more detail. Buckle up :^)

Alright. So except for a couple of months where I was like “there is no god reeee” half because I was sOmE hYpErInTeLlEcTuAl SkEpTiC and half because of trauma from the toxic flavor of Christianity I left and some shitty developments in both politics and my social circles (I’ll talk at some length about “Kelly” in a sec here I think), since leaving Christianity I’ve always been what I’ll call “hopeful agnostic” (I think I stole this term from Rhett and/or Link lol). In a nutshell, what that means to me is “there may or may not be a god, but I hope there is at least one and they’re nice, or like, at least some spiritual thing that has a good aspect that can help me”. I also dabble in shitty rituals where I burn dead plants and occasionally also hate literature like gospel tracts (and, that one time, a couple of bibles) and basically call on “anyone who is listening and gives a fuck, else the placebo effect” for whatever my goal is. Like... witchy-adjacent but I don’t think about it very much at this stage. I kind of enjoy it, and I think for one reason or another it can be good for my mental health, but I’m wary of any kind of commitment or even more serious experimentation, even as I hope to find something good, because ...trauma, and maybe even absent that a desire to not be wrong in a way that’s dangerous to anyone else again. So that’s fun :^)

So if you’ve made it this far through this weird bullshit, thanks, this story is kind of important to me xD and if you couldn’t, and you’re not reading this ending thingy because it got too dark or it pissed you off or something, that’s cool too and you’re beautiful and valid. Whoever you are, I hope you find whatever healing you need. :)

#ex christian #spirituality #politics

[imaginejamesandsirius]

An AU where they have daemons (as in His Dark Materials style if you know it??) - the story can be anything!

((A/N: So I’ve only ever watched the Golden Compass movie that came out like 10 years ago, and it was a while ago. Please ignore all inaccuracies the daemons have >.> For ease, their daemons’ names are just their Marauder nicknames. Mentioned abuse on the part of Sirius’s parents.)) 

Sirius was scratching right behind Padfoot's ear, making the daemon's tail wag rapidly. Thankfully, his tail was away from anything it could hit since they were out near the Great Lake. Padfoot was a bear dog, fluffy and massive. James once got actually concerned that Sirius had suffocated in his fur-- as if a daemon had ever killed their human, accidentally or otherwise. Though, given the utter flatness of Prongs's fur, it made sense that James wasn't quite used to it. 

Sirius had a gigantic black dog, James had a deer that was quite frankly huge as well, and Peter had a rat that mostly hung onto his shirt around his shoulder. The only one of the Marauders that hadn't settled yet was Remus. Moony flitted from ferret to chimpanzee to wolf, and what made it the most confusing was that none of those were similar. Padfoot had circled around the Canis genus for a while, and Wormtail had pretty much always been some kind of rodent, and for a few months they'd thought he'd end up as a hamster before he settled into rat. Prongs had had like two changes before settling, but that was in keeping with who James was. James didn't hesitate, he didn't hem and haw like the rest of them did before making a big decision, because he knew what he was going to do almost as soon as the question was asked. 

And that, unfortunately, was why Sirius knew he didn't stand a chance with him. James knew what he wanted, and it wasn't Sirius. Not like that, at least. Sirius was his best mate. The best friend to ever live. Don't get him wrong, Sirius loved that part. He just... wanted a little extra. Snogging and shit. Maybe flowers or something, he didn't have a set plan in mind. 

Padfoot headbutted his shoulder, tilting him over a bit. "You're thinking about James again. Don't." 

Sirius glared at him. "That's not helpful. He's coming out here to meet us in a few minutes." 

"As if you'd listen to me anyways," Padfoot huffed, walking a few circles before settling, his massive head on Sirius's lap. 

It was a quiet time as they waited. Sirius closed his eyes and tilted his head up, soaking in the rare sunlight. When company did arrive, it was more than he'd expected. The whole gang was here, and Sirius grinned to hide his disappointment. He'd thought it was just going to be him and James, but apparently he'd been wrong. Strangely, he'd been wrong about that detail a lot lately. He didn't have time to follow that train of thought because they were circling up-- Moony currently as a ferret looped around Remus's neck-- and talking about their classes, homework, and their next big prank. Wormtail wandered off after a minute, saying that their discussion was boring and he was going to go find a good pebble (for his collection that Peter couldn't convince him to get rid of). 

Padfoot had a good time napping until Prongs convinced him to get up with all his prancing in bored loops. 

Apparently pranking all of Slytherin was mean now that they were seventh years, because none of those first years had done anything to anybody-- as far as they knew-- according to Peter and Remus. It was easier to do the entire dormitory than a single room, but whatever. Suddenly, a shudder went through Sirius. It wasn't unpleasant necessarily, but it was definitely surprising. It felt- it felt like someone was touching Padfoot. Not necessarily a reason to panic because the occasional animal had bumped into Padfoot before, but it was bloody shocking and he would like to avoid that thanks. He turned his head automatically to seek him out, only to find Prongs, nuzzling at his head. 

He froze. What the- how was- did James know this was happening?

"Sirius? You okay?" Peter asked, concerned. 

James was along the line of sight between Sirius and their daemons. He followed Sirius's eyes, then paled. "Oh Merlin," he breathed in horror. He scrambled to his feet and wrapped his arms around Prongs's neck, yanking to try and pull him away. "Prongs what the hell are you doing, stop it," he muttered, face getting red in embarrassment and shame. 

Padfoot, for his part, hadn't been trying to get away or lean into it, he'd just been sitting there as it happened. Padfoot shook out his fur, and Prongs finally stopped resisting James. When he stepped back, James stumbled, arms still around his neck and face bright red like he hadn't been pale as a ghost twenty seconds ago. Padfoot slowly ambled over to Sirius, acting like he wasn't the least bit bothered. 

"I'm so sorry, Sirius," he said, too ashamed to look over at him. His eyes were trained on the grass where Padfoot had been, and it looked like he was about to run off with his figurative tail tucked between his legs. Usually James didn't do that because he didn't have anything to be nervous about, but this was... Merlin, Sirius didn't even know. "I don't know why he did that. I'll just- er, I'll just go," he said, shaking his head. "You know, give you some erm space and we'll- it'll-." James sputtered to a stop, looking like he wanted to sink into the ground and not be heard from for the next week and a half. 

"It's fine," Sirius said, but James saw his hand trembling as he reached a hand up to pet Padfoot. He was shaken but not traumatized. Not like after that night with his mother. But still, it wasn't something he'd expected. 

James cleared his throat in a way that somehow conveyed how little he believed that. "Yeah. I'll just er-" He darted away from Prongs and snatched his bag from as far away as possible, not wanting to be closer to Sirius than he needed to be. He put an arm around Prongs and led him away, though Prongs did turn his head for a minute to look at Padfoot and Sirius for a bit longer. 

"You okay?" Remus asked, a frown creasing his face. 

"'m fine." 

"Sirius," Peter said, leaning in a little, "you don't need to cushion it just because it was Prongs. If-" he stopped, then swallowed, regaining his courage and continued "-if this upset you, you should admit it to James tonight. It's not good to hold it in." 

"Who're you, my counselor? Bugger off." Sirius sank his hands into Padfoot's fur, then extracted them. 

Padfoot sighed. "Oh goodie, we're moving again. Have you ever heard of a little concept called rest and relaxation?" 

"No rest for the wicked," Sirius replied, getting to his feet. He swung his bag over his shoulder and dusted off the back of his trousers. "I'm gonna talk to James. See you round." 

"Sirius, I don't think-" Peter started, but Remus just said goodbye. 

James always moved slower when he was depressed, so it was easy to catch up to him in the corridor. He didn't seem to hear Sirius coming either, which was a bit of a surprise. Sirius had half-thought that he stomped around the castle, the way James always noticed him even without the Map. "You look like you need a hug, mate." 

James jumped. He looked at Sirius, then just as quickly shot his eyes up the corridor. "What're you doing? Shouldn't you be with Remus and Peter?" 

"Not really. I thought it was going to be just us before they showed up, and now you're upset so... no. You need me." 

If anything, that made James's mood worse. "I said I was sorry," he mumbled. "I had no idea Prongs was going to haul off and do that, and I'm trying to make sure it won't happen again." 

"What're you on about?" 

James's jaw clenched. He looked unfairly handsome, like a brooding hero on the cover of one of Peter's muggle romance books. 

"Jamie, it's not that big a deal," Sirius tried to comfort him, putting a hand out to touch his arm. It was a simple touch, something he'd done a million times, but unlike those times, James flinched. Sirius came up short, slowing to a stop. Beside him, James did the same, looking more ashamed than ever. 

"My daemon touched yours," he whispered lowly, like it was a crime. It's not like Prongs had hurt him-- which would have been a crime-- and now that the shock had worn off, Sirius actually thought it was a good sign for their friendship. It was taboo for Prongs to have touched Padfoot when they weren't bonded yeah, but it wasn't quite as bad as James was acting. 

Sirius put a hand on his arm, and this time James let him-- though he did look a little discomfited. "It's fine. A little weird, but fine. It's not like Prongs could ever hurt him." 

"Thank you," Prongs said. 

James glared at him. "You don't get to fucking talk unless you're going to tell me why you did that." 

Prongs just licked his own nose and said nothing. 

"James, I'm not kidding. It's fine, we're good, you don't need to worry about it." 

"Why are you acting like this doesn't matter? It's your bloody soul we're talking about and-" 

"And you would never do anything to hurt me." 

James blinked, surprised by how confident Sirius sounded. Especially considering what had just happened. 

Sirius's hand trailed down James's arm before falling back to his side. "Okay? You can let it go." 

Instead of smiling and being relieved like Sirius had been hoping, James frowned at him. "You never look out for yourself." 

"What?" Sirius asked, taken aback. He didn't know where this was going, but it probably wasn't good. 

"We're not bonded Sirius. My daemon has no business touching yours, and he never will. You may not think it matters, but I can promise you that your future partner will." 

"You sound awfully sure it won't be you." 

"Huh?" 

"Nothing." 

"Why would it be me?" 

Sirius shifted uncomfortably. "Well. Why wouldn't it be? I mean, c'mon James, our daemons... And we... y'know? Never mind. You've made it pretty clear you don't fancy me." 

"What? When the hell did I make that clear?" 

"You- well James, you keep inviting Remus and Peter to stuff we used to do just you and me." 

"Because I was nervous!" 

"Yeah nervous to be alone with me, I get it." 

"No, it's- shit. Okay." James took a deep breath, one hand tightening at the base of Prongs's neck. "I noticed you. Like, noticed you. You'd always been my mate before, I wasn't used to it. And I wanted to ask you out, but it kept coming out wrong and you thought I meant all the Marauders, so I started inviting them along on purpose until I could get my head on straight and ask you out proper." 

Sirius blinked. "That doesn't even make sense." 

"Well excuse me for not being a bloody poet." 

"Why didn't you just say you meant it as a date? I would've said yes!" 

James spluttered, "I- you- well I didn't know that at the time!" 

"Now that you know, will you let it go? Padfoot's fine, he wasn't even bothered." 

"He wasn't happy about it either," James grumbled. 

"Your view is too narrow," Prongs said, and James glared at him. 

"I don't care if this worked out, you're still an arse for doing that." 

"I knew the truth even if you did not." 

"Liar." 

Prongs snorted and tossed his head a little. 

Sirius stifled a laugh, rubbing at his nose to try and cover it. "So er, how about we do something tomorrow night? Y'know, just us. Something special." 

"Like a date?" 

"Of course like a date, it's what you were just talking about," Padfoot said, then yawned. 

Sirius looked at his daemon for a moment, then back to James. "Sound good?" 

"Yep, sounds great," James said. "Er, by the way. In the future, when we're telling the story about how we got together, we're leaving out the part where Prongs sodding touched Padfoot without permission." 

"That's dishonest, Jamie." 

"Who gives a shit? I don't want people to think that about me." 

"Aw c'mon, I doubt Prongs would have done it to literally anyone else." 

"That's not the point!" 

"I think it's sweet," Sirius said, grinning widely. 

"You have issues." 

"My issues benefit you, so shut it." 

#prongsfoot #fanfic #marauders #james potter #sirius black #no voldemort au #hogwarts time #getting together #siriuslystarbucks #Anonymous

[bigskydreaming]

LOL so I’m gonna say something that a lot of people are gonna HATE, because of what it does to the usually preferred canons or headcanons of how Dick goes to live with Bruce after his parents die.

But there is one more reason that I prefer the juvie origin for Dick, beyond what I’ve said in the past, and its that....

There is no possible way for Dick to go straight to living with a single billionaire in his early twenties RIGHT after his parents died, or even just a week or two after that....unless Bruce abused the FUCK out of the system himself, in order to get Dick in his house.

And I don’t see any reason why Bruce would go to the lengths of bribes or calling in ‘favors’ that would be needed to expedite the OBSCENE amount of bureaucratic red tape he would need to navigate before any judge would let him become a minor’s sole guardian - especially considering he undoubtedly had no paperwork or had undergone any of the interviews or visitations or hoops demanded of prospective foster parents BEFORE they take in their first kid....

Unless he really truly had reason to believe that every viable alternative to him greasing the wheels like he HAD to have, in order to get Dick there with any kind of swiftness.....like, I honestly don’t see a mid-twenties Bruce Wayne, with his myriad of issues and his own self-image, honestly thinking that he’s SUCH a better candidate for taking care of this traumatized eight year old kid that he’s going to cut any corner he possibly can to speed up the process....unless he was utterly convinced the alternatives were so much worse.

Like say, if he found out that the system had decided the best thing for Dick was to be tossed into juvie.

I mean....the process for fostering a kid, becoming a legal guardian, ANY which way you go about that....its not as simple as just, signing a few papers. No matter WHO you are, UNLESS you leverage that ‘who you are’ bit to get people to step on the gas to a degree far beyond anything they’re supposed to allow. 

It takes TIME. 

And even in scenarios wherein Bruce takes Dick in as a kind of witness protection while Zucco is on the loose - first off, that’s far more unrealistic than even the juvie take because like....the police HAVE protocols for that sort of thing. They don’t just hand over a kid to the first civilian who steps up and volunteers.

Honestly, the canons and headcanons where Bruce just ‘arranges’ for Dick to come stay with him almost immediately after his parents’ murder....like, they honestly skeeve me even more than the juvie thing, because of how matter of fact people are about it? Y’know? Like nobody seems to see anything wrong with the idea that a billionaire just, with zero prior experience or qualifications just says “oh I’ll take this boy home with me” and everybody goes “yes sir, well you’re a billionaire so if you want him, you got him,” like....it treats Dick like a toy. That’s not how things work, and its not how things SHOULD work....and most importantly IMO, I can’t fathom Bruce thinking that he’s the best option for Dick to such a degree that he’d break all the rules in order to get custody that fast. For that matter, if he really could arrange all that, in spite of the way the process is supposed to go, then shouldn’t it beg the question “why couldn’t Bruce pull similar strings to ensure Dick could stay with the circus, the people there who clearly loved him and wanted him to stay?”

And honestly, I kinda feel like the way people have reduced that whole process to the shorthand of “well Bruce is the good guy and we know with the benefit of hindsight that he’s Dick’s dad in every way that counts, so of course Dick has to end up living with him, so why NOT quicken the process to just a few days”....like, I feel like that actually contributes a lot, albeit unintentionally, to this tendency to take Dick for granted both in universe and out of universe, because it lends this air of like...’only the destination matters, the end result.’ Which is usually how Dick gets screwed in most cases....because people only ever look at the end result of his stories, the last position he ends up with...and completely fail to consider any of the steps in between that happened along the way, and all the things that might have happened alongside each of those steps, that lends important context to his final position in a given story.

Like this idea that well Dick has to end up with Bruce, that’s the part that matters, so its not really all that important how or why.....I feel like that really has a lot to do with how it so often gets just accepted at face value that Dick’s the one in the wrong for keeping his distance from Bruce at later points in life, or for leaving the manor, or for digging in his heels with stuff....because it all loops back into this mindset that “everyone knows Bruce loves Dick, the best place for Dick is in the manor with Bruce, ergo, everything else - like how he comes to live with Bruce or his reasons for storming out of the manor - are semantics, irrelevant details, etc.”

Except...they’re not.

And so again, as an example like....you can’t really just cut out the entire process of Dick coming to live with Bruce...because it really, truly, EXTREMELY doesn’t make SENSE for Bruce to get custody that fast without having SOME kind of leverage.....and it similarly doesn’t make SENSE for him to think he’s so clearly the most qualified person to take in this traumatized kid (no matter how much he empathized with him), that he would circumvent the system he USUALLY is so militaristic about upholding as much as he possibly can, while still being a vigilante. And that last bit sure doesn’t feel in character for Bruce, from that particular angle.

UNLESS.

Unless he’d discovered the system had MASSIVELY FUCKED UP with Dick, and he no longer trusted it with him whatsoever....and so THEN he took matters into his own hands, and did whatever necessary to get custody of Dick ASAP - realistically helped along by the MASSIVE leverage Bruce would have had at his disposal if he threatened to publicize what they’d done to this eight year old orphan.

THAT, to me, feels far more realistic, and far more in character for Bruce....and it at no point takes for granted any of Dick’s own personal journey along the way, or renders it irrelevant or an unnecessary detail.

Idk, maybe its just me, but I’ve always been super uncomfortable with the level of detail fandom puts into fleshing out Jason and Tim’s backstories (and with precedent established by his taking in Dick, any of his later kids would have had very expedited custody arrangements....but that makes it MORE likely that the FIRST kid and the process of gaining custody of him would include hoops that later kids’ stories wouldn’t), while at the same time, hollowing out Dick’s origin story to a barebones outline of ‘well his parents died and then this and this happened and then he lived with Bruce and became Robin and happily ever after until he hit his teenage years and developed an attitude problem.’

Like, there’s just something very....unsettling about how much fandom has romanticized the idea that this billionaire with a quite frankly TERRIBLE public reputation, like this is a guy who has DEDICATED himself to appearing totally irresponsible as far as the rest of the world can tell.....and just....being like ‘oh hey, no big deal about this guy of all guys just being like hey I see you have an eight year old orphan there, howzabout I take him off your hands for you’...and fandom’s like....swoon. Y’know? I mean yes, WE know Bruce is a superhero, WE know that years of cute Batman and Robin and father and son bonding would lie ahead of those two after that.....but...ANY scenario in which Gotham is like....yeah we see no problems with just letting Brucie Wayne take a traumatized orphan home to live in his big old manor with him....like..yeah. 

I mean, even as I’m typing this out, I’m thinking that yeah, there is something to be said for streamlining the process in the name of escapism, so that there’s a smoother, easier transition for this poor kid and he doesn’t have to go through so much.....BUT like at the same time, its one thing when we’re talking cute fluff stories and others when the angst is clearly a focal point of the story and yet the story STILL romanticizes this....Daddy Warbucks swoops in to save little Orphan Annie and like, this is definitively treated as like....nobody should be raising objections to this or being like wait a second....

Because the latter feels less like its being done in the name of escapism and more, like....in that sense I was talking about where it all loops back to how often Dick gets reduced to a prop within his own narratives like...things happen because they HAVE to happen, not because like....he’s a person going through things that inform the choices he makes and the things that happen from there, yknow?

Or maybe its one of those things where its like....I feel like that story is one that’s meant for a different time, at this point? Like, there WAS a time when the billionaire swooping in to take the poor orphan off to live in a manor was the kind of escapism people were looking for, but we do live in a different time now where I think most of us would agree like...wait, a decision that big deserves more than being treated like the billionaire just stops in to shop around for an orphan to accessorize with, kinda?

Idk, I feel like I’m not explaining this well, the precise reasons this disturbs me so much, which is why I’ve never posted about this particular angle before, but its been on my mind a lot lately, so maybe it makes more sense than I think it does here? LOL.

*Shrugs* Idk, I just honestly do feel in the long run and in the big picture, Dick’s personhood is ironically better preserved in the scenario where he was definitively stripped of it by an uncaring system and thrown into the last place he should’ve been....with Bruce then, upon discovering this, moving heaven and hell to see that personhood or awareness of personhood, more accurately, restored to Dick, no matter what it took, even if he had to do it himself. Because again, I also think that there’s a heeeeell of a lot of hubris in Bruce thinking that he was equipped to care for this kid right off the bat....and its not even that I don’t think he is (because I think Bruce really was a good father to Dick in their early years, and the majority of their problems arose later, when Bruce was unable to reconcile that this kid he’d once thought himself so alike to was growing into a man with his own ideas and choices that Bruce couldn’t understand or relate to). 

Again, I think its more that I don’t truly see BRUCE actually having that degree of confidence that he’s truly a good fit for taking care of Dick, not being more worried that all his issues and his focus as Batman would be a deterrent....unless he had an external kick in the ass that made him feel like no, I don’t trust this job to anyone else at this point, so I HAVE to be up to the task myself, its that simple.

[teethhunter]

Y’all I’m back into Rwby and wrote a thing for the first time in a long ass time. 

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21624754

Summary:  Ruby and Yang are Huntresses now. Qrow pays a visit to Patch to have a much needed conversation with Tai.

TW: Past alchohol abuse, withdrawl symtoms, generally not great coping mechanisms. 

Basically it’s just Tai and Qrow talking about TraumaTM and what it means to be a parent. Mild spoilers for volume 7. 

Tai set a warm cup of tea down in front of Qrow, watching him carefully. It didn’t go over Qrow’s head that this was a test of sorts.

In a different time- not too long ago, he would have pulled out his flask and poured a generous helping of cheap liquor into the cup.

Qrow looked from the cup, to Tai, tilting his head to the side with just the hint of a smirk, a silent acknowledgement of the challenge he’d been given. When he picked up his cup, the trembling of his hands was impossible to hide. It came and went, and right now it made it difficult but not impossible to drink without spilling the hot liquid everywhere.

That smirk of his disappeared, morphing into something of shame and annoyance when he noticed the pitying look Tai was giving him now. He cleared his throat, setting the cup back down with a graceless clang that left a small pool of steaming tea on the table. Neither of them had said more than a handful of words to each other, someone had to break the silence.

“So, the girls are huntresses now…” Qrow commented, best to acknowledge the Goliath in the room.

The silence lingered after, broken again only by a sigh, Tai’s eyes closed as he forced a tense smile. “I heard. Yang wrote to me. They’re all so young still but, well, guess they’ve been through enough. They deserve it.”

“Yang wrote to you?” Qrow had expected that Tai would have heard the news already, but normally it was Ruby that wrote letters. Yang had always had the tendency to forget to update people, where Ruby loved recounting all that happened.

“Mhm, got a few letters from her. Keeps me in the loop. Sounds like she’s doing so well, I always knew she could bounce back.” Tai’s pride in his daughter’s accomplishments apparent in every word, but laced with worry hidden underneath.

“Both those kids are made of tough stuff. Ha, guess you’ll be happy to know Ruby’s learned how to throw a punch, no weapons needed.” It was a tentative step into dangerous waters between the two of them. Tai wanted to know how Ruby was doing, but Qrow was probably the last person he wanted to hear it from.

Once upon a time, Tai and Qrow were close, trusted each other in and out of battle. Many things strained that bond, Raven leaving, Qrow’s devotion to Ozpin’s mission, Summer’s disappearance. They were never given respite from all that happened, many things were left unsaid, or simmered until they boiled over into harsh arguments. In the end what all but broke the fragile companionship between them was the fate of a little rose.

The heavy blanket of silence once again settled over them, broken only by the scratching of Zwei pawing at Tai’s leg. That dog had a keen sense for when Tai was distressed. Zwei was the last peace offering Qrow had offered Tai, soon after Tai finally gave in and let Ruby take the entrance exam for Signal. Tai lifted the dog into his lap, visibly relaxing slightly as he absently ran his fingers through Zwei’s fur. Moments like this made sure that Qrow didn’t regret bringing that puppy to Patch.

“Look..” Qrow mumbled, floundering with what to say. Having serious discussions with not a drop of alcohol in his system was near foreign to him now. His arms itched, whether it was to reach for a drink or fly away from this, he wasn’t sure. “I know there’s things you want to say to me. So just go on and say it, yell at me, fight me, I don’t give a damn, just say something.” He’d become accustomed to speaking in half truths, for once he craved something straightforward.

Tai blinked, and for a moment it was silent again before he set Zwei gently on the floor. “You told her to go to Haven. You knew she would go. You followed.” He tersely laid out those facts.

Qrow bit down the want to deflect, to say that he didn’t exactly tell Ruby to go to Haven. That wouldn’t be the truth, he knew what he’d been doing that whole time. “Yes, I did.”

“I just can’t seem to figure it out. Why you seem to want my daughter dead.” Tai said, tone startlingly flat. And there it was, the argument they’d had over and over since Ruby was old enough to take interest in stories of Huntsmen and Grimm.

“Tai. That is- that’s the last thing I want, and you know it.”

“But it is! What is any of this? Train her up, send her to her death? She’s got a target on her back and you point her right towards the danger, again and again. If you hadn’t encouraged her to be a huntress, if you hadn’t trained her, if she didn’t go to Beacon so early- she’s so young, she could be safe at home.” Tai was trembling with the effort to not yell, to not cry.

“I nearly punched Ozpin when I caught wind Ruby was going to Beacon early. If Gynda hadn’t been there, I would’ve. Of course I care. She’d have a target on her either way, I’d rather she have a weapon and know how to use it then,” Qrow said.

Tai’s hand darted out, grabbing one of Qrow’s wrists, nearly crushing it, a demand that Qrow listen to him. “You’re still sending her off to her death.”

Those words lingered in the air for a moment. It was hard to look at Tai, much harder than ignoring the bruising grip Tai had on him. He gave Tai a curious look. “Do you think she would have been happy?” He asked simply.

“What?”

“When you started teaching Yang to spar, Ruby came to me begging to be trained too, said you wouldn’t let her. Kid glued herself to me, stubborn little brat,” There was no way to feign annoyance at that with the fondness tinging his tone. “There was no denying that spark she had though. You saw it too. I know, it scared me too,” Those last words nearly whispered, a confession he’d never put to words before. “I’m pretty sure you remember that day, you completely lost it on me when you found out.”

Tai only nodded mutely, his grip on Qrow’s wrist loosening.

“Y’know, she snuck out of her room that night, after you put her to bed,” Qrow said. “I was half drunk on the couch, and this kid shows up sniffling, saying how sorry she was that she made us fight. Tried to get her to go back to bed but she wouldn’t stop sobbing, so I let her stay there. When she finally calms down and is about to go to sleep she says something else. Says she just wants to fight off all the bad guys like me, and her mama and daddy. Says she wanted her daddy to teach her, but he barely even looks at her.”

The story was pointedly aimed at Tai, but it was the truth. That wasn’t long after Tai had really started pulling himself out of his depression, starting to manage being a single parent with much less help as Qrow went on longer missions. Still, looking at the little girl who was a near mirror image of her mother wasn’t easy.

All at once, Tai deflated. His hand that held Qrow’s wrist now fell heavily onto the table, his head drooping. “I was so damn jealous of you. I still am.” He said, the tremble in his voice matched the tremble of his shoulders.

“Hm?” Qrow didn’t quite get what that had to do with any of this.

“You can connect with her in a way I never could. She’s always looked up to you, always listened to you- she’d never drink milk before you told her it’d make her grow strong. Before she could even write, if we had an address for you while you were on a mission she’d draw pictures to send to you.” Tai explained.

Qrow nodded, though Tai couldn’t see him. He didn’t say anything, having a feeling there was more the other wanted to say.

“She’s… she looks just like Sum- like her mother, and she fights and sometimes acts just like you.” It was the closest Tai could get to saying what he was trying to get at.

Tai wasn’t wrong in those observations either. Ruby had always gravitated towards her Uncle Qrow to confide in, and picked up on many of his habits, thankfully few of the bad ones. They had no blood relation yet people mistook him to be her father on more than one occasion. Qrow never had any intentions of being a father, not now, not ever, he hadn’t even expected to live this long. Yet the pride he felt at every one of Ruby’s successes, and the chilling fear of losing her, was all undeniably parental.

“C’mon Tai-Tai.” Qrow said lightly, an old nickname rolled off his tongue easily, making Tai raise his head to look at him. “There’s a whole lot of you in her, you just aren’t looking. The sheer amount of energy that kid has? Or the way she can make a friend without realizing it just by smiling at them. That’s all you.” He assured.

Despite the tears still trickling down Tai’s cheeks, he looked just slightly soothed by that. Still he gave Qrow a doubtful look.

Qrow sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not lying about that stuff. But you want it from me straight? Okay. You did a shit job at bonding with her. You want her safe so bad-and that’s not wrong, but you wanted to… well, this is a shit metaphor but you wanted to clip her wings, keep her in a cage.” All at once Tai wanted Qrow to shut up, and to continue, this all needed to be said eventually.

“Her being trained by me made sense, she’s never going to be a fisticuffs fighter like you, she’s fast, needed to learn how to fight in the air, and picked up on using a scythe faster than I did.” Qrow pointed this all out just to delay what he knew he needed to say next.

“And I’m not gonna claim I was always good at this… I mean fuck, there was a time where I thought I’d never be able to look at her while sober. But when you look her in the eyes, you see a ghost, Tai. Things got easier the more I could see that kid as her own person. She’s not Summer.”

The air in the room stood uncomfortably still, like the house itself was holding its breath. Then their eyes met, two men who had lost too much. They both were crying. Tai moved around the table, and reached out. Qrow tensed, expecting a fight, it’d been a long time since contact didn’t mean a fight. Yet there wasn’t a hint of aggression as Tai pulled him into a hug. So slowly he returned the embrace.

Things weren’t okay. There was still so much left unsaid. But for just a moment after acknowledging women they both mourned in their own unhealthy way, and the girls left behind that they both desperately wanted to protect, they could find a hint of comfort.

#rwby #qrow branwen #taiyang xiao long #fanfic

[eldritchsurveys]

732.

Have you ever done drugs and were able to quit for good? >> I don’t do any of the drugs that I used to (aside from drinking), so yeah, I guess so. I also never developed a serious dependence on any of them, though. Are you against weed, or do you think it should be legalized? >> I’m not against weed. I think it should be legalised. I think decriminilisation and legalisation are good first steps in reducing social stigma to a point where people can have honest and informed conversations about drugs, their benefits, and their drawbacks. Also, it’d be real nice if marginalised people could stop being shoved into prison cells with outrageous sentences for possession. Have you ever been taken advantage of while drunk? >> No. Is there any medication you refuse to take? (Like for ADHD, etc.) >> No, I’m not actively refusing to take any medication... I haven’t been offered any, so. Ever watched an Above the Influence commercial under the influence? >> Nah, those had stopped airing by the time I started using. I think they made a bit of a comeback recently, though? I swear I saw one a few months ago. Or maybe it was the Truth campaign, which was similar.

Have you ever or do you have an abusive significant other? >> Jury’s out on whether I had one or not, but I don’t have one now. Are your parents too involved in your life, or do you feel forgotten? >> My parent wants nothing to do with me. How do you feel when it comes to love? >> I don’t know what you mean. I don’t really... have any? Do rainy, cloudy days affect your mood? >> Sometimes, especially if there’s multiple rainy/cloudy days in a row. I need to see the Sun at some point. Have you ever wished you could just move away and start over? >> I wish I could just move away from here because I find here to be insufferably dull. And cold. Are you impulsive, or do you overthink? >> Sometimes I follow my impulses, sometimes I’m trapped in thought cycles and do nothing.

Are you or have you ever been addicted to any substance? >> No. Do you think beauty goes more than skin deep? >> I think beauty is whatever the fuck you want it to be. I think societal concepts of beauty should definitely be examined and reexamined, because the foundations are often rotten, but honestly I don’t want to spend all my time dissecting every single thing I think is pretty. Do you remember your first date? How was it? >> Not really. Have you gotten caught in a HUGE lie to your parents? >> Yeah, probably. I did a lot of lying because it was always like I was in trouble for something and I got tired of it. Are your relationships unstable, or do you manage to keep friends a while? >> My Inworld relationships are extremely stable. Don’t you hate when people have the nicest parents & treat them like shit? >> I mean, I don’t really see that kind of thing in my life, so. Are your moods stable or do you never know how you’re gonna feel? >> My moods are unstable from an outside point of view, probably. But I can trace how certain seemingly-harmless things can trigger me (and I’m getting better at it every day), so while my moods may seem random to you, they’re not to me. Have you ever been on probation or arrested? If so, what for? >> I was on probation when I was 13 based on a harmful exaggeration, essentially. Do you think that without drama and problems your life would be boring? >> I mean, I don’t have drama in my life, and yeah, that’s part of what makes it “boring”, but “boring” isn’t necessarily bad. I don’t need that kind of excitement in my life. If I want to experience some drama, I can always watch Grey’s Anatomy. When you’ve had a bad day, do you seek an escape, or do you just face it? >> Most of my “bad days” are because of internal bullshit, so yeah, there’s really nothing to do about it except give myself gentle distractions until the bad vibes work themselves out of my system. “Facing it” isn’t really going to solve anything, because most of the time the bad feelings aren’t based in something that’s literally happening that I can literally solve. What is “facing” an emotional flashback going to do except trap me in negative thought loops for even longer, lmao. Do you think the bible’s hypocritical, or do you live by it? >> The Bible is a conglomeration of allegories, dramatised historical accounts, opinion pieces, poetry, lawbooks, and religious instruction. I don’t know what about any of that I’m supposed to find “hypocritical”. I don’t live by it because I’m not involved in a religion that uses it as a text. Have you ever thought you were or actually BEEN pregnant? >> Yes. Have you ever guilt tripped someone into something? >> I don’t think so. Do you actually care about other’s problems? >> I care about the problems of people I care about. When it comes to the opposite sex, do you fall for them faster or slower? >> --- Have you ever had or been part of an intervention? >> No. I’ve tried to be a one-person intervention, which obviously doesn’t do squat. If you could, would you go back and change the way things ended with someone? >> No. Can you manipulate someone into getting what you want? >> Sure, if I put in any effort. But if there’s one thing I’m lazy about, it’s social shit. Does the type of music someone listens to tell the type of person they are? >> I don’t know. People like all sorts of different music for all sorts of different reasons, so I don’t know how reliable a metric that would be. Have you ever felt like you know a person just from their survey answers? >> I mean, yeah, I do have some level of knowledge about that person if I read enough surveys of theirs. But it’s still a parasocial relationship, which is one-sided and completely different from a regular interpersonal relationship. That would only change if we started communicating with each other. Are there any problems within your family? If so, what? >> --- If you’re in a bad mood, do you take it out on others or do you hold it in? >> If I’m in a bad mood, I tend to self-isolate, which solves the other-people problem pretty well. Have you ever seen cocaine, ecstasy, heroin, or acid? Have you done it? >> I’ve seen and done all of these, yes. Do you like a lot of attention or does it make you uncomfortable? >> I don’t like a lot of attention, no. Have you ever wanted to help someone, but you just couldn’t? >> Yeah. It was a good lesson to learn, and then I repeated the mistake later on, lmao. It be like that sometimes. Have you ever contemplated suicide or talked someone out of it who has? >> I’ve contemplated it plenty of times. Not sure if I’ve ever talked someone out of it. Have you ever been homeschooled? Why? >> No. Have you ever woken up somewhere and not known where you were? >> Not like... seriously. I’ve had that disorienting feeling for a few seconds because I was away from home or something, but I’ve never woken up somewhere and literally not known where I was at all. Has someone ever laced/slipped something in your drink? >> No. Have you ever had a party when your parents went outta town? Get caught? >> No. Is there something you really wanna tell/say to someone but can’t? >> No. Don’t you hate when someone texts you and you’re expecting someone else? >> I mean, yeah, I guess I would hate that.

#surveys #survey #random survey

[mysticandskepticmuses]

altered carbon au; a confrontation between june moone and her methuselah parents, daniel and maria moone, who are drawing the line in the sand when confronted with proof of her relationship with takeshi kovacs.  written for my au w/ @magicandsciencemuses.  it doesn’t really have a beginning or an end, sorry ? not sorry i guess, i needed to jump straight into the action and it didn’t feel right to try and build up to it after i was already there and it’s intentionally left ‘hanging’ at the end because it will be followed by another drabble and/or starter for the scene w/ june & takeshi afterwards.  there is a LOT of potentially triggering content.  emotional trauma, emotional manipulation / abuse, implied allusions to domestic abuse, name-calling, general angst so please do not read  if these things are triggers to you!

“Perhaps if you were thinking clearly instead of giving way to your baser instincts – if you were thinking at all instead of indulging in mindless rutting like some bitch in heat you would have even the smallest concept of the kind of man you have brought into your life – our lives!”  The words were practically spat at her, her father’s features red and angry; nostrils flared, lips pressed tight enough they seemed nonexistent, his large frame clenched and taut, his last words accentuated by a furious thud of balled fists slammed against the desk he now towered over with enough force to send scattered objects flying, a faint and slightly sickening crack of – the wood beneath his fists, his fists themselves – she didn’t know for sure which, and for perhaps the first time in her life, she found she didn’t have the wherewithal to wonder, to care.   She had never – never seen him like this, seen him so near to erupting with anger and violence –  she had never … ever imagined that he would say …  

Was this what it felt like, to be sucker punched?  To be gutted, to be – eviscerated?   She couldn’t breathe.   It felt like there was … a weight, a ton of weight that had slammed into her chest and stomach, that had flattened her, stolen breath and thought and words and any residual sense of composure or hope that she had, the world, snatched out from underneath her feet and she was left hanging, scrabbling in the vacuum of space, her voice, her breath ripped out of her lungs.  She could feel her body, shaking, her lashes spinning, jerking rapidly as she fought against the violent surge of tears that spilled, soundlessly for a long moment, over her lashes, scalding and stinging her cheeks as she tried to –  to breathe, to think, to feel anything other than the wrenching, twisting feeling in her gut.  Never.   Never in her life had he truly raised his voice to her, never, ever had he thought to say something so –  heartless.  Her jaw quivered, her lips pressing tight, swallowing down the choking sound that clenched, tight and agonizing in her chest.  “You –   “  Her voice was shaking, weak.   “You –   don’t –  know –  anything about the kind of man he is,” she raged, in stuttered gasps, fingers digging trenches through her palms, knotting against her stomach as she tried to find the breath necessary to keep from dissolving into the multi-colored dissolving dots that spun at the edges of her blurred, streaked vision.  “You know –”

“I know ENOUGH,” Daniel’s voice roared, white knuckled fists still digging into the faint hollows of the desk beneath him where they had impacted moments before.  “I know all I need to know.”  His voice was white-hot, wounded pride and centuries-old-ego crashing together into a dangerous compound that had needed only a spark to ignite.   One hand raised, a harsh gesture through the air that made her flinch, an array of images spinning to life in the air around them.   Images, snapshots, of marred flesh, of her bruised throat and wrists, the pages of the medical reports from her sleeve repair spinning by one after the other; moving images, flickers of tangled limbs, of gasped and throaty sounds, a dozen intimacies caught in ten- fifteen- second loops – the night of the Bancroft ball, snippets from the beach-house security cameras, and others, a shaky, hand-held or perhaps aerial remote camera that honed in on the slightly grainy, but still clearly discernible features of June and Takeshi entangled against an alley wall, and another of similar quality that showed skin, bared, coarse sounds of their rough coupling tinny from the distance of the camera outside of his hotel room but – clear enough.  

Humiliation flooded her, acidic as it cascaded over nerves so recently left raw and open; anger and resentment, indignation burning hot in his gaze as he shoved the images away, the sounds seeming to linger for a few seconds more.   “You – had me – followed?”  Takeshi’s words from the ruins echoed in her thoughts – she’d been so quick to dismiss the possibility –  “Oh, no,” Daniel scoffed, cutting off that line of questioning in an instant. “That is not up for discussion, and as luck would have it, those lovely snippets of your behaviour were brought to your mother and I by two separate individuals who – fortunately for you – had the decency to ‘offer’ to sell the footage to me, rather than to the spin rags,” he seethed, and it seemed something in those words registered, a creeping, gnawing understanding worming its way through her chest.   “Do you have any idea the potential scandal that this could have dragged you – this family through?  My only daughter, fucking the last Envoy, a known murderer – an assassin, a mercenary, a terrorist in the streets like a common whore –”  

It didn’t seem to wound, quite so deeply as his first insults – she’d stopped feeling anything other than shock minutes before.    “Do you care, even a little, about all that we have done for you, all that this family stands for –?”  A harsh sound, a brittle, contorted scoff rushed from her at his words, silvery-limned jade eyes gleaming brightly, almost inhumanly in her nearly ghost-pale features as her gaze cut up sharply to him, to her, the nearly silent, immobile form of the draconian woman who stood behind Daniel, one elbow resting lightly, casually on the back of his chair, watching the events unfold with an impassable mask of calm.  “Oh, you can’t actually –”  June began, disbelief and a bitter edge of disdain sharpening her words before another gesture, another thud of Daniel’s hand, palm flat this time, slammed down onto the desk.   To her credit, June didn’t flinch that time.   “You leave your mother out of this,” he spoke, his words frigid, the warning clear in his posture and expression.   “You have done this, you have endangered everything, with your reckless, sycophantic, childish behaviour and it ends now.   Laurens Bancroft did not summon this creature from the depths of cold storage to be your plaything, and I will not have you sullying our name, gallivanting around town with this monster who has – do you know how many organic deaths, how many real deaths this Kovacs has left callously in his wake?”  

“Perhaps you’d care to see that footage as well,” the offer came, silky smooth, a soft and deadly offer made from the viper behind the desk, a tilt of her head as she mimicked concern, sympathy.  “I don’t think you realize just how lucky you are to have limped away with as little harm as you’ve endured –”  Maria began, before June’s taut, short words cut her off.  

“You. Know.  Nothing about him.  He would never hurt me,” June spoke, outrage and utter faith echoing simply in her words, mirrored in the edges of disgust that twisted her mockingly youthful features at even the thought.  

Maria’s expression showed a flicker of intrigue before her brows tucked together, concern seeming to warm her gaze and soften her features, a small step taken forward as she placed a hand on Daniel’s shoulders, exchanging a glance with him before she turned her focus back to June to speak again.   “Oh, darling,” she spoke softly, regret tinting her words.  “Oh - you think … you thought he cared for you,” she empathized, a frown tugging gently at the edges of her lips as she watched June’s reactions, watched the edges of indignation crumble just so.  “I’m sorry, darling,” Maria continued.  “It’s – truly a tale as old as time, I’m – sorry if … you thought you were the only one.”  Another half exchange of glances, before she leaned in over Daniel’s stance slightly to pull open one of the folders that had half scattered at his attacks on the desk, opening the file and with a simple gesture, fanned out a series of still photos, all featuring various quality images that showed the Envoy’s current sleeve in various stages of coitus in his hotel room with at least two different women, one June didn’t recognize – young, delicate looking, pretty in a … haunting way – the other easily recognizable to her – Miriam – with date and time stamps that marked the interactions scattered throughout the last few weeks.  

That, June felt.  The twist of the dagger in her chest, snaking deeper, bleeding freely.  “And?”  She tried to believe she didn’t care, that it didn’t matter – they had never set boundaries, rules, had never spoken of –   She could feel him, the way his rough fingertips swept over her cheek, the way his fingers eased through her hair, his thumb brushing over her ear, scarred knuckles teasing along her throat –  the warmth of his breath flickering, teasing over her skin in the warmth of the sun, the sinking sensation of bare toes into wet, squelching sand as his lips brushed over hers, soft and filled with –  longing.   She hated them – hated the tears that welled over lashes and streaked over her cheeks, brushed away angrily with the palms and back of her hands as she forced her gaze back to them, white lipped and white knuckled.   “I have –  done – everything you ever asked of me,” June spoke, her words thin, her voice tight, warbling with the overload of emotions.   “Everything.   I have been – Never, in all my life, have I done anything that might cast a modicum of scandal or negativity on this family–”

“Until now,” Daniel cut in, shortly, crisply, his voice pitched lower but no less seething, the vein in his forehead still pulsing rapidly though – he seemed to have expended the worst of his outrage.   “It will not happen again.  There are no ifs, ands, or buts - this is not up for debate, you will do as you are told or you will face the consequences.  You think you know what this world is, child, but believe you me, it is a far different beast without the protection and comforts that you have been afforded.   Tell him, in person, if you must – but this ends.  Now.  If – if – you think you can defy me, consider carefully what you think you have.  What you think you own, because – I promise you, it is far less than you believe.”

#DRABBLE. #DRABBLE. ( june moone. ) #DO NOT REBLOG #abuse tw

[moiraineswife]

Ep 55 Caleb Meta

Warning: This post will contain a)- Spoilers for episode 55. If you haven’t seen it yet BEGONE. b)- Angst. Bc. Caleb. c)- yelling. if u haven’t worked out already: these posts are not planned. these posts are not thought-through. these posts are not edited. these posts are a stream of consciousness shrieking at the void that is u lot. Enjoy. 

So. Uh. That episode was like..................A lot. Lots to unpack. LOTS. So I’m just going to touch on Caleb and the very specific niche deliciousness of him being completely and utterly retraumatised in that episode and how it may or may not pan out in future. 

Meta under the cut bc it got Long. 

So, DIVING IN: the nature of trauma in itself is repetition. Nightmares, flashbacks (of all their various forms) are ways in which the trauma itself repeats. Basically your brain Cannot Cope with what’s happened so it tries to just put you through the same thing over and over again like process this please. 

Caleb has been dealing with that for at least a decade since the original trauma took place. Then we pile on the (highly symbolic and super-interesting in a really fucked up way bit of magic that is Modify Memory (i assume) which I have to meta on more in future) which is effectively a false memory that was removed (that his parents were guilty/in his twisted-logic mind deserved what they got) which makes a very interesting mirror for suppressed memories (again: big trauma thing. In which your brain Cannot Cope so hard it just blots the bad memory out of existence entirely) so he’s a whole mess of being trapped in an endless cycle of his horrible past (PTSD is a Trip, y’all). 

This is...An echo of that but it’s something new. It’s very much the same KIND of thing, so it plays in to the trauma-repetition, but it’s a new incarnation of it. History repeating itself, etc, etc, delicious irony, all that great stuff fiction-creators live for.  

It’s going to be deeply upsetting for Caleb. (No shit, Taryn). But it so beautifully, and terribly, feeds in to his deep-rooted fears that he is a toxic person, and that those around him are destined to get hurt (by him, not by him, it doesn’t really matter to the guilt brain, it’s all just fuel for that fire). 

For example: Liam spoke on Talks about how, regarding Molly’s death, Caleb almost expected it because yup, that seems about right, par for the course. It’s one of the big reasons he’s been extremely reluctant to let the Mighty Nein get close to him (he’s directly said this in canon at this point, in his conversation with Beau). 

He feels dangerous. He sees himself as dangerous. Partly because he sees himself as being constantly in danger, and by extension, those around him are also in danger. That’s external. 

The internal part of him has been screaming ‘you killed the two people who loved you the most in the world in an unprovoked attack because you’re a monster’ for over a decade at this point. Not only does he not deserve any of these people, he feels like he’s destined to hurt them, no matter what he does, or how hard he tries. 

This, uh, reinforces that in a very deep, obvious, and painful way. Not to mention the fact that, not only did he hurt them he hurt them with fire. Again. So it’s almost exactly the same pattern of shit coming back to haunt him for a second time: 

Trent: Mental manipulation magic - fire - dead loved ones  Demon: mental manipulation magic - fire - nearly dead loved ones. 

It’s Bad. It’s Real Bad. That boy is going to have the panic attack of his life when he recovers from the immediate adrenaline rush of the fight. It’s not going to be pretty. 

It’s going to drive home everything that little voice inside his head that sounds like Trent has been telling him since he joined these people. It’s going to undo all the struggle it’s taken to ignore that voice up to this point because don’t you see what happens when you get close to people? They can be used against you. You can be used against them. They become your weakness and you become weak because you care. Because this hurts. And if you were stronger, and smarter, then it wouldn’t... etc etc etc. *insert emotionally manipulative bullshit here* 

BUT! 

I actually think this could actually be good for him in a really weird way? 

Hear me out: 

Caleb has been living in a trauma loop for over ten years at this point. He’s been going over the same memories again and again and again, but he hasn’t done anything with them. He hasn’t actually fully processed what happened to him. And, and this is the biggest part: he hasn’t had anyone to push against. 

It takes a lot to recognise abuse. It takes a lot in the modern world when there are phones, helplines, the internet and, let’s be honest: awareness. There are words for these experiences and there’s more chance of, accidentally or deliberately, stumbling across help out there that can look at a situation from an outside perspective and go: this is fucked up. 

This is what Caleb needs. 

On his own it’s almost impossible for him to recognise what was done to him and fully process it and begin to heal from it in a healthy way. Caleb has not actually started the process of recovery for anything that happened to him yet because Caleb does not yet recognise/understand what there is to process/recover from. 

In Caleb’s mind, he is a monster. He did an unforgivable thing because he believed his parents deserved it as they were traitors. He broke because he was not strong enough to handle what he’d done. He was sent to an asylum and since escaping he’s just been afraid. That’s the only emotion he’s got towards Trent right now: fear. And it’s suppressing all logic, self-awareness, and the ability to think rationally about what went on. 

Caleb was abused. Caleb was manipulated, mentally, emotionally, and magically. Caleb was a vulnerable kid who was deliberately chosen, carefully groomed, and then skilfully brainwashed by a figure with an enormous amount of literal and emotional power over him. Caleb was abused. 

Caleb does not see this. 

Caleb does not recognise that he was abused. 

And I think this is where a lot of issues with Caleb kinda stem from in fandom? Because people look at him and just...How can he NOT understand that he was manipulated. Huh. Maybe he wasn’t. Because it’s just that damned obvious how could he not understand this? 

Abusers rely on that. Abusers rely on their victims not understanding what they’re doing to them. Particularly when their victims are young, with relatively little real-world experience, and absolutely no grounding/preparation to recognise or combat any of this, in a society that is more accepting of the kind of teaching that radicalised Caleb than most are. 

Caleb needs an outside perspective to look at what he went through and go ‘you know that’s fucked up, right?’ He’s kind of had that from Beau and Nott but not enough. Someone has to sit him down and go through every piece of what happened and be like ‘this is not okay’ ‘what he did to you was not okay’ ‘this is called abuse’ and then consistently validate those experiences until he understands. 

Caleb has over ten years of trauma to process and unlearn. That...That does not happen overnight. That does not happen because your new friend looks at you and goes ‘yeah that was fucked up, dude’ and suddenly it all crystallises in your mind and becomes clear. That takes work. And effort. And a willingness to feel something beyond fear for your abuser and Caleb is Not There yet. 

What this last fight does, though, is open up the possibility of Caleb starting to accept this a little bit. 

Jester: “What the fuck, Caleb?” 

Caleb: “I am sorry...They got inside my head.” 

This is actually....Kinda huge for Caleb? Actually it’s kinda massive. This is Caleb experiencing a trauma incredibly similar to what he went through when he was younger (but on a much smaller scale, with far less dire outcomes) and being able to look at it and, still apologise, but explain that he was not in control of himself, and that ‘they got inside his head’. 

This is the step he needs to take with Trent, too, this is the same admission that he needs to make to himself, and this is the first step that has to happen before he can even begin to start processing and healing his trauma. And he needs help with that. 

This is not the part where I say I expect the mighty nein to become Caleb’s therapists. But they can be friends, they can be a support network, but most importantly: they can be an outside perspective. 

They can’t process his trauma for him. They can’t work through his issues for him. They can’t take away any of his grief, or his guilt, or his pain, or his PTSD. They can’t make what Trent did go away. But they can point it out. 

They can raise a red flag. They can point it out and say ‘this is not okay’. They can put a name to it. They can validate it. They can do the things that Caleb cannot do himself, which is look at what happened and be able to acknowledge, without the burden of guilt, and the fact that it’s so much easier to blame, and hurt, and punish himself than a figure he’s terrified of, and say that it was not okay, and explain to him what happened. 

They can help him acknowledge his abuse and then he can start to help himself heal from it. 

But this fight is, essentially, a microcosm of Caleb’s past. And I hope that if (when, please god when) the mighty nein, who were all either a)- directly charmed themselves, or b)- resisted the effect but were aware of its intentions and capabilities, do not react the way Caleb expects them to react (ie: the way he reacted to himself) with anger, and hatred, and blame, that’s going to start unlocking things. 

I don’t expect a massive breakthrough next episode, don’t get me wrong, this is going to be a long, careful, painful process. But I think even the acknowledgement that someone affected that way by magic, or by emotional abuse, is not themselves, and is not, ultimately, to blame for what they may have done (or weak/somehow complicit in ‘allowing’ themselves to be targeted/victimised) is going to prove a really big thing for Caleb in the future. 

Just that acknowledgement that they don’t blame him for what happened, that they understand he wasn’t himself, and that it wasn’t within his control to stop what was happening could, I think, prove huge in terms of his recovery further down the line... 

TL;DR: Caleb experienced his past again on a much smaller scale with this fight, but having the party around him to react to him/it and reach out to him, and tell him it’s okay and that they don’t blame him will do A Lot for unlocking his potential recognition of abuse and recovery down the line. 

#caleb widogast #critical role #critical role spoilers #liam o'brien #cr spoilers #cr2 #cr2 spoilers #meta #critical role meta #caleb meta #my meta #imma just leave this here #long post #text post tag #abuse tw #emotional abuse tw #trent ikithon #is a trigger warning all of its own

[master-sass-blast]

Found Family, Part One --Wade.

I AM SO EXCITED ABOUT THIS ONE. I HAVE BEEN PLANNING THIS PIECES FOR M O N T H S.

Summary: A brief look at yours and Wade’s siblingship, and all that it entails.

Rating: T for adult language, mentions of abuse/mental health issues/suicide, and mild angst.

Pairings: Piotr Rasputin x Reader and Nathan Summers x Wade Wilson.

@marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie

Some say that the two of you together are a disaster. A cruel joke by the universe unfairly cast upon the rest of society. A recipe for total destruction.

You know better than to buy into what any of the bystanders and onlookers say. The two of you, while admittedly destructive, are like air to each other; without one another, neither of you would be able to survive.

Wade Wilson is your –adoptive—brother, you’re his –adoptive—sister, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

The technical beginning of your wonderful sibling-ship with Wade Wilson starts when you help him prank Scott Summers in the dead of night, but that’s not where things really started. At least, not in your view of things.

No, they start the next day, when Wade knocks on your door half an hour before noon. He’s dressed in the most outrageous, neon pink and green Hawaiian shirt, orange camo jeggings, and bright, ‘fuck you’ blue Crocs.

“You eat lunch yet?” he asks, seemingly oblivious to the way your eyes are blinking their protest at the amalgamation of colors he’s wearing.

“Uh… no?”

“Great!” He loops an arm around your shoulders and steers you down the hall. “Let’s go get some! I’m buying.”

Dopinder, as it turns out, is a sweet and gentle soul –despite his weird thirst for vengeance. He drives the two of you to a downtown diner –and takes Wade’s weirdness with considerable grace and stride, which isn’t something you’ve witnessed from anyone else yet—and drops you off with the promise to wait until the two of you are done eating.

“I’m pretty sure you’re shafting his ability to earn a livable income,” you say as a waitress seats you and Wade at a booth adjacent to a window.

Wade snorts. “As if. One, I tip him in chicken nuggets, which is more than anyone else ever does. B, I’m helping him get into the mercenary industry, which pays way better than driving a fucking taxi ever will. And four, he doesn’t mind.”

You open your menu, start scanning the options, then freeze.

There’s so many choices –fuck, you’ve never even eaten out at a proper restaurant before. Your parents were too focused on ‘keeping you safe’ to let you have a proper childhood, dammit.

“Don’t know what to do?” The corner of Wade’s mouth turns up when you give him a ‘deer in headlights’ look. “I figured you probably didn’t have much experience with this. Russell didn’t either. Consider today your crash course in ‘how the world works.’”

“…Thanks.” You look down at the menu quickly to hide the tears that are already blurring your vision. “Uh, what do I get?”

“Whatever you want! They do all day breakfast here, and –in my opinion—there’s no bad time to eat a pancake.”

You smile. Pancakes do sound good. You peruse the menu for a moment longer, and the waitress is back to take your orders.

Wade orders a mountain of food. If he notices the way the waitress’s eyes bug out while he rattles off his insanely long order, he doesn’t let it stop him. He just keeps going, and her pen keeps flying across the page of her little book.

When he finishes, she turns to you, looking somewhat shell-shocked. “And for you, sweetheart?”

You copy Wade’s method of ordering –but not the length of his order. “Pancakes, bacon on the side, extra maple syrup, please.”

The look of relief on her face is almost comical as she jots that down. She promises to have everything out “as quick as possible,” then takes your menus and walks away.

Wade grins at you. “Look at you. You’re a natural!”

You can’t help but grin back.

You spend the rest of the day with Wade –and Dopinder, since he has to drive the two of you around. Wade takes you to various stores, having you buy yourself something –a book, a movie, a scarf—at each place so you can get used to interacting with people and handling monetary transactions.

You’re touched in a way that you can’t begin to describe. Sure, Professor Xavier and his team of mutants can help you get your mutation-related abilities under control, but no one’s offered to help you integrate into the real world yet. It’s like Wade’s thrown you a life-line you didn’t realize you needed.

When Dopinder drops the two of you off at the mansion, Colossus is waiting for you on the front step, arms crossed over his massive chest and a disapproving frown set on his face. “Taking young ones of property without permission is not allowed, Wade. You know this.”

“Okay, first of all, she’s not a ‘young one;’ she’s over eighteen, which means she’s allowed to come and go as she pleases. Even I know enough law stuff to know that. Secondly—”

“We’ll try to give you a head’s up next time, Colossus,” you interject before things can too far out of hand. “Sorry for making you worry.”

His expression softens considerable as his gaze switches over to you. “That is reasonable. Did you have nice day out?”

You smile and nod. “Yeah. Wade showed me around New York. It was cool.”

“See? I’m cool. Relax, Chrome Dome. I know what I’m doing.”

Colossus shakes his head, but he’s still smiling. “We will make X-Man of you yet, Wade.”

Wade’s full attention turns to you as the metal giant turns and heads back inside. “You were all smiles with him, huh?”

You narrow your eyes at Wade. “So what? Smiling is a normal human thing!”

“Sure,” Wade says, drawing out the ‘u.’ “You like him, don’t you?”

“Only as much as you like Cable!”

It’s Wade’s turn to narrow his eyes. “I do not like Cable. I merely have a ‘healthy fascination’ with him and his metal arm. And his awesome gun.”

You smile sweetly at Wade and step inside. “Glad we’ve got that all settled, then.”

Wade pretty well takes you under his wing after that. The two of you have the same penchant for wild mischief –and fucking with Scott Summers—so it’s no surprise that you get along like ducks and water.

But what no one else notices –which, admittedly, is probably because they’re so used to cleaning up after yours and Wade’s hijinks—is that Wade does more than just rope you into his nonsense.

The two of you need to run to a store to pick up supplies for your latest prankster endeavor? He has you make a list, estimate how much it’ll cost, keep track of the route on Dopinder’s GPS, and puts you in charge of navigating the store while you track down everything you need.

He gets bored of being cooped up in the mansion? He takes you out for an adventure, teaches you how to navigate streets and pick out safe places to duck into if you run into trouble.

He buys you your first laptop and cellphone, shows you how to customize everything for “maximum fun.” (And, when his knowledge runs out, he just sets you down in front of Ellie and has her teach you how to be safe on the Internet and how to avoid getting ten thousand viruses on your computer.)

The man makes sure you get a proper sex-ed course. Not one where he just cracks inappropriate jokes –though there are a lot of those going around—but a real one. The ins and outs of consent, how to avoid getting STDs, basic anatomy, how to spot cancer on both sets of genitals.

And it’s all of this that leaves you convinced that Wade Wilson is one of the smartest persons you’ve ever met.

It’s not hard to learn how to read Wade Wilson. Once you get past all the shock value of the jokes, vulgar language, and weird habits, he’s an open book that has its heart on its cover.

He’s lonely. Not the creepy, ‘I’m forty years old and I’m lonely so I spend a lot of time with people half my age’ lonely, mind you. He’s just… lonely. Sad, even.

He hates his skin. That much is obvious from all the long sleeves and layers he wears, even in the dead of summer. And while you don’t see anything wrong with the way he looks, he does, and that’s the only opinion that matters in his book.

Wade Wilson is also a man that wrestles with a lot of demons. His healing factor didn’t cure him of his cancer, so he faces excruciating pain on a daily basis. The loss of his girlfriend –who stuck with him after he got fucked over by Francis and turned into ‘an avocado that got fucked by an older avocado’—is a gaping hole in his chest that he doesn’t know how to plug. His self-loathing is a constant presence in his mind, and the amount of skin he covers is a decent giveaway for just how much he’s hating himself at a given moment.

He kills himself because he “can’t really die.”

And it’s when you watch Colossus and a few other X-Men deal with the aftermath of one of Wade’s “visits to Vanessa” that you decide that this crazy man might need you as much as you need him.

You happen to catch a glimpse of him in the hall a few days later, decked out in his Deadpool suit.

There’s only two reasons Wade wears that suit: he’s getting ready for a fight, or he’s in the pits of self-hatred (or both). But he doesn’t have his swords on him, which means he’s not gearing up for a fight—

You dart down the hall and latch onto one of his arms. “Hey, dude! I just had this great idea that we have to try.”

“Well, don’t keep me waiting, Aang!” Wade chirps back –but his voice is heavily strained, and, yep, you were right about his mental state. “What do we just have to try?”

You don’t actually have an idea on hand, so you just blurt the first thing that pops into your head. “Dessert burritos.”

Wade cocks his head back and considers the idea for a moment. “Dessert… burritos. Holy shit, you’re a genius.”

You grin –his tone’s brighter, lighter, which means you’ve managed to pull him out of his funk a little.

He grabs your hand and starts skipping down the hallway. “To the kitchen!”

Operation “Dessert Burritos” ends in nothing short of a disaster. You and Wade try to make pancakes to act as tortillas, and since neither of you can cook anything other than instant noodles, you wind up burning every attempt at you make. Three flaming skillets get chucked out the back door and two more are doused under the kitchen sink faucet before the two of you decide to call it quits on the ‘pancake’ alley.

So, then, the next logical step seems to be ice cream sundaes –except that Wade is still stuck on the ‘burrito’ concept, so he tries to wrap ice cream in a regular tortilla, which winds up tasting terrible for obvious reason, so Wade spits it out in the trashcan, except he misses part of his target and winds up spraying the front of the can with half his mouthful of ice cream and tortilla.

And then the two of you wind up unpacking the fridge and most of the pantry to find “sundae appropriate toppings” because Colossus is a health nut who keeps the kitchen stocked with healthy things—

And then Wade wants to try microwaving Gushers because why not, and you’ve never been one to say no to an opportunity to do something you’ve never done before—

And thus is all the chaos Colossus walks in on when he pops his head into the kitchen to see what the two of you are up to.

You’re eating fudge ripple ice cream straight out of the carton with a serving spoon, perched on the kitchen. You wave at him with the spoon as his face goes slack with shock. “Hey, dude! What’s up?”

Wade’s swearing up a storm while he tries to get molten Gusher remains off his face –he’d opted to take his mask off while he ate, and you’re suspecting that he’s regretting that decision now.

Colossus covers his face with both his hands and groans. “Wade—”

“Hey, man,” you interject before he can lambaste your honorary sibling too badly. “This was one hundred percent my idea. Don’t worry, we’ll get it all cleaned up. It’ll be like it never happened, I promise.” You pause, then add “Well, the gushers in the microwave was Wade’s idea. He’s on his own for that.”

“Oh, fuck you!”

“Hey, I told you not to stick your face into the microwave, but no, Pikachu knows everything!”

Colossus just sighs and shakes his head. “You two are destructive.”

“Hey, at least we didn’t short circuit the microwave this time!” You offer him an impish smile. “We’re doing better than we usually do.”

He puts his hands on his hips, looking every bit the stern father –but the corner of his mouth turns up as he shakes his head again. “I suppose you are correct.”

“Yupp. Like I said, don’t worry. We’ll totally handle the clean up and everything.”

He casts a concerned, appraising look around the kitchen, but still favors you with a small smile when his gaze finally settles on you again. “Well, I suppose I leave you both to it, then.”

The two of you have to spend the rest of the day cleaning and scrubbing to get the kitchen back in order. Wade’s none too happy about it, but you do your best to make it bearable for him –music, banter, the works.

And, bonus, cleaning with him means he has to stay with you, which means he can’t wallow in self-loathing. He’s not his bright, bubbly self, but he’s not falling apart either, which is a win in your book.

It’s dark out by the time the two of you finish getting everything put away. Normally, you’d just call it a day, but it’s not hard to see the darkness swimming behind Wade’s eyes—

“Hey, man, you wanna have a sleepover in the rec room tonight?”

Wade gasps, and his eyes genuinely light up. “Sleepovers are my favorite!”

You grin. “They’re my favorite, too! Come on, go get changed and I’ll meet you there. You still need to catch me up on all the reality TV stuff.”

The two of you are getting the rec room set up for the night when you hear Colossus’s heavy footsteps in the hall.

You pat Wade’s shoulder before hopping over the couch. “I’ll deal with him. Pick out something for us to watch. I’ll be back in five, ten minutes max.”

The metal giant himself is in the kitchen, checking up on everything before he goes to bed, it would seem.

You watch him for a couple moments –you don’t miss the surprised expression on his face at the orderly state of the kitchen, either—before making your presence known. “Making sure we held up our end of things?”

The expression on his face is guilty when he looks over his shoulder at you.

“It’s fine,” you chuckle as you step into the kitchen, holding up your hands in a disarming gesture. “I would if I were you, too.”

He ducks his head a little, but he’s smiling. “I do not wish to seem judgmental.” He looks past you –or, rather, over you—and frowns at the glow of the TV. “You two are still up?”

You glance over your shoulder, then step closer to the man of metal and lower your voice. “Wade’s had a rough day today. I just… I don’t want to leave him alone, you know?”

Understanding settles on Colossus’s steel features; he nods. “Da.”

“We’re just gonna hang out for the night, have a sleepover,” you add. “No more kitchen adventures –speaking of which, one of the skillets was not salvageable.”

Colossus huffs out a gentle laugh, crosses his arms over his massive chest, and shakes his head. “Somehow, I am not surprised.”

“You gotta admit, it’s better than our usual levels of collateral damage.”

“I suppose.” He smiles softly at you for a moment before clearing his throat and looking away. “Well, I leave you both to it.”

“Thanks. Goodnight, Colossus.”

“Rest well, Y/N.”

You watch him go for a minute –watch the way the muscles in his back and shoulders ripple as he walks—before you shake yourself out of the daze Colossus never fails to put you in and head back to Wade. “All taken care of. We’re free to poison our brains with reality TV drama all we want!”

Wade doesn’t look up at you when you walk in. He’s seated on the middle of the couch, jaw tight and lips pursed as he stares ahead at the TV screen. “I don’t need your fucking pity.”

You blink, shocked by the sudden outburst and his surly mood. It doesn’t take much to put together that he probably heard your conversation in the kitchen –Colossus’s voice always carries—but even if he didn’t it’s not too far out of Wade’s “normal” for him to assume that he’s only getting the scraps of what decent treatment he deserves.

Either way, you’re not having this argument. Not now, not ever.

You put your hands on your hips and fix him with a stern look. “Good, because I’m not giving you any.”

Your sharp tone makes his eyes widen, and he actually looks away from the glowing screen to stare at you.

“I don’t know if you noticed, dumbass,” you continue, tossing in a mild insult to help him figure out you’re serious, “but I care about you. You’re the one person in this mansion that made sure I’d be able to function in the real world if I had to, and I’ll be damned if I’m just gonna let you flounder when you’re feeling down. And that’s not pity, jackass. It’s called being a decent fucking human being. Got it?”

“Pretty sure it’s pity when the person isn’t obligated to care about you,” Wade throws back, smiling bitterly.

And you understand where he’s coming from. After Vanessa died, all the help he’s been getting has come from the X-Men, and how can it not look like a pity handout when the people helping you have their lives and themselves so extraordinarily put together?

You’ve felt the same way about it on more than one sleepless night.

You let out an irritated huff and cross your arms over your chest. “Fine. I’m hereby adopting you as my brother. Now, as your new sister, I’m obligated to care about you. Are we doing this sleepover or what?”

Wade blinks at you, then grins. It’s tired, and it’s worn down, but it’s not bitter.

You’ll take it.

“Hell yeah we are.” He scoots over so you can sit next to him. “These are reruns of ‘Say Yes to the Dress.’ This one’s the ‘Bridezilla’ edition.”

“Sweet.” You plop down on the couch just in time to see a particularly distraught bride-to-be throw a fascinator at her mother. “Holy shit.”

“Just wait,” Wade says, all too gleeful. “It gets better.”

You wake up in the gray pre-dawn of the next day and nearly smack your head into Wade’s.

The two of you had taken half the couch each, with heads in the middle so you could hear each other talk and avoid kicking each other in the middle of the night.

Wade’s still asleep, one hand holding onto one of yours.

The sight makes you smile, makes you feel a little less despair over the state of the world.

You squeeze his hand, then nudge his head when he doesn’t stir. “Wake up, idiot.”

Wade groans. “Too early.”

“Yeah, which is why I’m putting you back to bed.” You tug him off the couch and walk him towards the main staircase. “Come on. Your ancient back needs a proper mattress.”

“Not ancient.”

“Yes, you are, you geriatric motherfucker.”

You manage to get him up the stairs and to his room without incident. He drops into his bed with a grunt, and you tuck a blanket around him and wait for him to start snoring again.

And then you get to work.

It takes a couple minutes, but you manage to find all the guns and knives Wade keeps on him while at the Institute. You tuck the numerous weapons into your arms, then pad out of his room.

Colossus is in the hall –already dressed for the day, the morning bird. He frowns, concerned, when he sees your armload of weaponry. “What—”

“Don’t worry,” you toss over your shoulder as you walk precisely one door to the left. “I’m not using them.” You kick the door a couple times with your foot, then step back and wait.

Nathan Summers, alias Cable, opens the door a few seconds later. He takes one good look at the guns and knives in your arms, then raises an eyebrow at you as if to say ‘what the fuck do you want me to do with those?’

“Wade’s been in a mood,” you say, as if that explains everything –which, technically, it does. “And you actually know how to store these properly.”

He sighs, but doesn’t look too put-out about it, and opens the door more. “Bring them in.”

You dump the arsenal on his bed when he motions for you to do so, watch as he puts gunlocks on the various firearms and tucks the knives and other bladed weapons into the top drawer of his nightstand.

Colossus watches from the hall, hovering nervously in a way that should not be possible for someone of his side.

“If you’re cool with it, I’m gonna leave a note for Wade to let him know to see you if he wants his shit back,” you say as Nathan tucks Wade’s guns into a duffel bag. “He probably won’t be up before noon.”

Nathan sighs, but nods anyway. “Not like I’m going anywhere else.”

“Thanks,” you say, and you mean it. “I wouldn’t have known what to do with all this.”

“Anytime, kid.”

Colossus watches you carefully as you walk back into the hall and close Nathan’s door behind you. “You… care a great deal for Wade.”

It’s not hard to hear the unspoken question, mostly because it’s easy to see how someone might confuse the easy camaraderie you and Wade have always had for something else. Something… less platonic.

You shrug and tell the truth. “He’s my brother.”

Finding out that Colossus –Piotr, his name is Piotr, and you think you could spend the rest of your life saying his name without ever getting tired of how it feels on your lips—likes you is a world-changing revelation.

You know by the looks Wade keeps sending you throughout lunch, the afternoon, and dinner that he’s going to want a full report on everything that’s happened with Piotr.

You can’t wait to give him one.

You also can’t help but notice the way that the door to Wade’s room is cracked open and the lights are on as Piotr walks you back to your room –ostensibly so you know he’s ‘in’ and will pop in to give him the full rundown, but probably also so he can eavesdrop, the little shit.

But you can’t find it in yourself to care all that much because Piotr’s hand is holding yours and you can’t imagine ever feeling anything better than what you’re feeling right now.

He walks you to your door, smiles fondly down at you. ��I have work tonight. I doubt I will see you before morning.”

“So you’re ‘saying goodnight just in case?’” You ask, smiling back as giddy excitement coils in your stomach.

“Something like that, da.” And then he dips his head and presses his lips against yours.

You can’t help but gasp, just a little, and lift your hand to his shoulder to steady yourself.

The kiss ends all to soon –for your liking and Piotr’s, if the look he gives you is anything to go by.

He presses his forehead against yours before stepping back. “Goodnight, myshka.”

“Goodnight, Piotr.” You let your fingers slip from his as he walks away and watch him as he retreats down the hall.

He looks over his shoulder before he turns the corner to head downstairs. He smiles when he sees you watching, and blows you a kiss before disappearing from view—

And then, right on cue, Wade opens his door and grins at you.

You just cover your face with your hands and let out an excited squeal. You’re too excited to be annoyed with Wade, dammit.

He tugs you in his room. “I have snacks. Now, tell me everything.”

The two of you talk for hours, demolishing several bags of fun-sized candies and two packages of Keebler Fudgestripes.

“No fucking way!” Wade brays. “He was pet-naming you for the better part of a year? What a dork!”

“Well, he’s my dork now, so mind your mouth.” You grin stupidly, then squeal as you fall over onto Wade’s bed.

“Oh my gosh, you’re so cute I could die.”

There’s a knock on the doorframe, and Piotr –still out of defense mode, which is gonna take some serious getting used to—pokes his head into Wade’s room. “You are still up?” He frowns when he sees the numerous wrappers covering Wade’s bed. “Did you eat all that?”

You giggle at your boyfriend. “Kinda. We got carried away.”

He shakes his head in an all-too-familiar disapproving gesture, but an amused smile plays at his lips. “Is not good to consume so much sugar this late, myshka. You will be up half of night.”

“Unless I find a way to burn it off.” You grin at him. “Mind accompanying me on a late night stroll?”

He smiles softly at you. “Konechno –of course.”

“God, you two are so barf-worthy,” Wade gushes as you hop off his bed. “I love it.”

You catch Nathan in the hall as Piotr escorts you towards the stairs.

He smirks at the two of you, presumably having gotten an update from Wade and Ellie. “Going somewhere?”

“Just for a walk.” You jerk your head back towards Wade’s room, where light is still spilling into the hallway from his open door. “I bet he could use some company right now.”

Nathan shakes his head and mutters something that sounds like ‘clingy’ under his breath, but he stills strides over to Wade’s room anyway. He pauses at the doorway, frowning. “Did you eat all of that?”

“Yes, he did!” you shout. “You should have seen it; it was horrifying!”

“Lies!” Wade shouts back from his room. “Lies, lies, all fucking lies and slander!”

Piotr chuckles and tugs on your hand. “Come, myshka. Before you get into more trouble.”

You grin as you follow him down the stairs. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Watching Nate finally –finally—kiss Wade is like getting to the end of a good slow-burn book. You’ve loved watching the build-up, loved placing bets with everyone else on when those two would finally get their heads out of their asses and realize they were basically dating already, but God it’s such a relief to see them actually do something other than flirt with each other.

And one good turn deserves another, which is why you dig a box of maple sugar candies that you’d been saving for Wade’s birthday out of your dresser drawer and head over to Wade’s room.

Nathan’s already in there, holding Wade in his arms as they snuggle on Wade’s bed.

You can’t help but grin. “God, you two are so barf worthy. I love it.”

Wade sticks his tongue out at you. “We’re gonna give you and Metallica a run for your ‘hashtag goals’ money. Just you watch.”

“Good fucking luck.” You gesture at him with the box. “Wanna give me the ‘full rundown? I brought snacks.”

“I never say no to snacks.” He makes grabby hands for the box, then gasps softly when he sees the label. “Where’d you get these?”

“Vermont. The school took the kids on a field trip to a maple syrup farm. They’re the real deal.”

Wade tears the box open with all the delicacy of a rabid badger. “You do love me.”

“Always have, bro.”

Nathan frowns down at the little candies shaped like maple leaves. “The fuck are those?”

“Only the best thing on the face of the damn planet.” Wade holds one up to his boyfriend’s mouth. “Open up, sweetcheeks.”

Nate bites off part of the candy. His eyes widen immediately, and he spits the lump of melting sugar out onto a tissue. “Fuck. Too sweet.”

Wade gasps. “I’ll have you know that, as a Canadian, you’ve just committed a heresy. I’m sorry, we’re gonna have to see other people.”

Nathan snorts as he chucks his tissue into a nearby wastebasket. “Can’t get rid of me that easy, gorgeous.”

You can’t help but smile as Wade nuzzles Nate’s shoulder affectionately. “I just wanna say: I fucking told you so.”

“Shut up,” Wade shoots back. “You did not.”

“Wade, how long did I tell you that he liked you? How fucking long?”

“Yeah, well how long did I tell you that our resident steel boyscout liked you?” Wade rolls his eyes, then raises the pitch of his voice. “No, he doesn’t, we’re just friends, he doesn’t feel the same way!”

“I do not sound like that!”

“Uh, yeah you do! That’s why I made my voice sound like that.”

“Listen, asshole—”

“Language, myshka.” Piotr leans against the doorframe, smiling fondly at you. “Be nice.”

You point imperiously at Wade. “He started it!”

“Yeah, and I finished it! No performance anxiety here!”

Nate rolls his eyes. “You’re both insane.”

“Yeah? So?” You pluck two maple sugar candies out of the box –ignoring Wade’s squawks of protest as you do—then nab a tissue from the dresser before turning to Piotr. “Here. Try this.”

He eyes the candy, then the tissue, with admittedly fair suspicion. “What is this?”

“Candy.”

He gestures with the tissue. “And this?”

“Call it a safe bet.”

He sighs, then takes a delicate bite of the candy –and, sure enough, promptly spits it out into the tissue. “Bozhe moi, much too sweet.”

“Saw that coming.” You pop your entire candy into your mouth and let out a moan of contentment. “So good.”

“I know,” Wade says as he pops another bite of sugar molded into the shape of a leaf in his mouth. He makes a noise that in any other context would’ve been downright obscene and flops against Nathan’s chest.

“You’re both sugar fiends,” Nathan grumbles, putting an arm around Wade’s shoulders.

“I like to think of it as ‘well-adjusted.’” You grin teasingly at your own boyfriend. “What’s the matter, babe? Can’t handle a little sugar?”

He latches onto your hand and draws you into his arms. “Perhaps, you are just only sweet thing I need in life,” he says as he drops a kiss against the top of your head.

“Ew,” Wade mock-whines. “Get your PDA out of here!”

You roll your eyes at him. “Says the guy who’s literally sitting in his boyfriend’s lap.”

Despite the banter, you’re legitimately happy. You’ve got your happy ending, and Wade’s got his.

Look at us, bro, you think as the four of you share laughs. Champions of overcoming the shittiest obstacles. Go us.

#sass writes #piotr rasputin x reader #colossus x reader #nathan summers x wade wilson #cablepool #i know the warning look scary but this really is just a fluff fest #deadpool fanfic #x men fanfiction