#out in the cold in terms of support and recognition. that’s where i have a problem and where i know so many ppl calling gay rep are just | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

randomkposts · 1 year

Note

What if Misa had a god complex when she picked up the deathnote?

God complex Misa

K:-Its kind of hard to decide where to start as the god complex both sounds kind of like Misas attitude but is contrasted by her... Kind of suicidal mindset

E:-True. God complex Misa has me flatlining.

I was ginna go she spirals with the act revenge for innocents failed by the justice system.

K:- I can see where there would be some similarities, with Defined God complex.

1.An inflated sense of self: The biggest sign of a god complex is an inflated sense of self and general feelings of grandiosity.

Thats more Lights thing, but she does feel that there is no room for other rivals,I guess. Like kind of a stretch, but workable I guess

2.Gaslighting: Because people with a god complex are self-absorbed, it can be difficult for them to recognize or accept another person's experience. This, Blaylock-Johnson says, can lead to gaslighting, a form of manipulation that involves denying someone else's reality. Gaslighting is also common among narcissists.

I could see her doing that well if Light was not leading the show.

3.Lack of empathy: A general lack of empathy is common for those with god complexes, Blaylock-Johnson says. "They have an inability to see the humanity in others."

-Misa doesn't care about the lives of criminals anymore then Light.

4.Inconsiderate behavior: Because of their tendency for self-absorption and lack of empathy, people with god complexes often behave in inconsiderate ways. According to Blaylock-Johnson, they don't think about how they're affecting others. In their own eyes, they can do no wrong.

Misa doesn't consider that Light does not want to date her. I guess their both more in a relationship for status then emotion

E:-Scratch that she doesn't care for anyone who ISN'T Light. She has no remorse to kill an hypothetical gf Light could have had.

K:- "If I see you with another girl, then I'll kill her!" And Light initally thinks that if she didn't get what she wanted from him, he might be in danger.

5. Validation seeking: There's an excessive need for external admiration, praise, and recognition for those with god complexes, Blaylock-Johnson says, adding that they cannot validate themselves. And as licensed marriage and family therapist Margalis Fjelstad, Ph.D., LMFT, previously explained to mbg, that's another core narcissist trait. "Validation for a narcissist counts only if it comes from others," she says

-She seeks validation from her relationship with Light and status as a model.

E:-That and the lack any close companions other than Rem.

K:- get this

6. Callous or unemotional behavior: Sometimes people with god complexes can be inexplicably cold to others or simply unemotional, Blaylock-Johnson says.

7.Isolation: There can be many reasons someone isolates themselves, and it's not always indicative of a god complex. But according to Blaylock-Johnson, "purposely isolating themselves because they think they're better than everybody else and don't need anyone else is different from social isolation due to depression or anxiety" and could be a sign of a god complex.

-Yah,Misas a model and popular, but has she been shown to have any long term relationships with other people? We don't even see her sister? Just Rem, and a friend who swaps out so she can date.

E:-She's not close to anyone else but Light.

She has no support system other than Rem who dies for her. Is cut off any contact with her sister. No real friendships than I can say maaybe that nurse friend she had in the anime. But I doubt it is mutual friendship.

K:- 8. Disrespecting boundaries: A big reason people can end up walking away from those with god complexes, as aforementioned, is due to disrespecting boundaries, Blaylock-Johnson says. They may push people away "constantly crossing certain boundaries," she explains. As Fjelstad notes, narcissists similarly believe everything belongs to them, everyone thinks and feels the same as they do, and everyone wants the same things they do. "They are shocked and highly insulted to be told no," she says.

-She deff disrespects others personal space

9. Lack of responsibility: When you have a god complex, Blaylock-Johnson says, you're not going to feel like anything you're doing is wrong—and you're certainly not going to feel like you have to change. In fact, far from it. According to Fjelstad, "Lack of responsibility is a glaring sign of a narcissist. Although narcissists want to be in control, they never want to be responsible for the results."

E:-When Light dies she commits suicide the year after. Which is rather sad she has no one to depend on; and I highly doubt the Task force is willing to amible with her post Light.

K:- 10. NPD or other mental illness: Lastly, a narcissistic personality disorder diagnosis is a likely indicator that someone will exhibit signs of a god complex. This can also happen with other mental illnesses in which mania is involved, such as bipolar disorder. "For some people, if they are in a manic episode, it can be marked by grandiosity, that inflated sense of self, or doing a lot of risky behaviors," Blaylock-Johnson notes.

-Like, it points stronger to Light, and Misa hits some of those boxes, but also contrated with her… Strepford smiler Attitude

E:- How did she escape Justice?..

So I want to say Misa builds up the complex.

She has the death note when exactly?

K:-if its post Light, maybe Light nips the suicidal thing in the butt feeling a suicidal pawn close to Kira could bite him later???

At least her extent. So I guess this is a Misa and Light build up the worst in each other??

Did Misa give up her Death Note in the second half? I don't think she did.She could twist it in her brain, that Light died leaving her to ascend to godhood and fill his place.

Maybe shes basing her idea of godhood on Light? And paid attention to his traits?

But even if Misa got her Death Note years before Light, and started killing criminals in revenge for her parents, I could see it building into god complex.

Going from victim to unstoppable would be a pretty heady feeling.

Still its kind of hard to ballance with her being a death seeker

"Death Seeker: Some of the material in the series seems to point to the fact that Misa isn't exactly concerned with her own life. Misa deliberately seeks out dangerous situations: for one example, she walks home alone, at night, on a deserted street, and for another she begins the entire attack on Sakura TV while being across the street in person. She then shows up on the mass murderer Kira's doorstep and volunteers to be his girlfriend while knowing full well that he could kill her. She in fact explicitly offers Light the option of killing her if she gets to be a burden. Also, she begs Rem to kill her when she feels that she has a good justification to ask that of Rem, and, mind you, when Soichiro informs Misa that both she and Light are to be executed, it is Light's life that she begs for. Plus, she sacrifices half of her lifespan (twice) to get the shinigami eyes. And of course, when Light dies, she kills herself soon after."

E:-So complex Misa can go two ways depending on the timeline and what happened. But this is DN who says " fuck canon. " Canonically themselves.

Misa wants to die. Did it start when her parents were murdered? Probably. Yeah actually that would make sense. I would like the pre Light Misa as it would be easier to ascend into the God Complex she would get in her sense of justice where the courts and public had failed her.

K:-Yah,movie Rem said she developed deep depression after that. Yah pre Light is easier. And the ask lol, we got derailed!

E:-And I Found when she lost the Death note post timeskip.

Post attack on the SPK, where Near escapes using the power of money and wearing a helmet (he's like one of the few people to do that to evade death). Where she then develops conflict with Takeda.

I still say he should have given it back to Misa for the end game.

There were no helmets in the warehouse.

Another indication of the sister, Misa says she moved to the apartment to be alone. Shame Light didn't have a contingency to get Misa a Death Note in event of his death.

E:-Ten bucks says the sister is dead. Maybe.

But depression is a heavy thing. And not something you can rip yourself out of especially the life leading up post Light.

So few people use helmets to protect their face in Death Note.

K:- yah they would have been much safer if they went around dressed like clone troopers. Cosplay should have exploded in the Kira era.

Hmmm, not pre timeskip,if her sister is dead. It would make sense if her sister was older and working allowing Misa to grieve then get back to her modeling career without ending up in an orphanage. Like, modeling takes work, and would not be something Misa could easily break into if she didn't have anyone. So probably some kind of family member to live with until she was of age.

Built up from righteous anger the killing of criminals escalating into a complex at the worship that comes from her use of the death note to kill those who have wronged others.

They call her god, and she starts to believe it. Rem says otherwise, but Rem is a death god herself, and with the power of the death note, why shouldn't Misa be one too?

E:-Misa Misa hears the cries of others just like her all those months ago, the young girl who's world shattered because the public forgot the actions of a murderer.

Letting him go, loudly proclaiming justice for the monster under her bed who has murdered her parents.

Why why, what had Misa done to God to deserve this?

Where was her justice? Justice for her parents? Her family?

The death note came as a gift from a death god who loved her. Loved her to save her from a stalker ready to kill her in the night.

The smoothness of this book felt cool under her hands. There was a power in the words carved into its covers that Misa could feel.

A name.

Just a name and a face to take back what freedom he unfairly won.

Misa begins with just that.

K:-A name becomes two, which becomes twenty, and multiplies into bigger and bigger numbers.

There are those who react in fear, and others who turn to worship.

Misa is not a god. But she has gods power at her disposal, and a will to see it through.

The public calls to her for salvation, and she will see it paid in blood. She doesn't care who she has to cut through.

She will bring justice, vengeance (for what is the difference really) to all who ask.

Misa is smart. Not genius smart, but smart enough to know how to act, to play down her intelligence in favor of what she wants people to see, of how they want to see her.

Unchecked her arrogance grows. She's earned it.

Here she's all alone but Rem, and I kind of want to bring someone else in. A sister, a worshiper victim like she was, a foil.

Death Note is kind of a lonely story for most, when you think about it.

E:-The cathartic sense it fills her when she sees them fall to their knees, the wide fear in their eyes that reflected what their victims had felt in their last moments.

So many can sleep now without fear.

All because of her.

Misa sets down her pink pen, flexing her cramping hand. Another week of names being filled. Another group of scummy perverts that filled the modeling agency she worked at.

The group of models she befriends tittered to one another when another of these creeps pop up.

Yes it very much is a lonely story for who starts it. And I think thats another layer for those trying for godhood.

K:-They are not strictly her friends. But they are comrades, they are friendly, and they know how to lie.

They know its probably one of them. And that is a blessing. That the deaths have united them, given them a bond that few could break.

When the police come, they lie.

And Misa thinks to herself "I can use this"

E:-So a network was made. Umeko, a model plucked from the countryside so rural the school was almost eaten by vegetation, clapped her hands as one does at a shrine, proclaiming loudly," Kami-san your devoted follower asks for justice!"

Their cheerful party is startled into silence by Umeko's loud prayer. Misa's hands almost dropped the champagne bottle. Umeko keep praying out loud, drunk and glassy eyed.

"Kami- chan, I want justice! Manager Sugawara has taken one of my girls. I want vengeance!"

Umeko keeps clapping her hands, and another model joins her this time.

K:-Misa joins, feeling powerful.

After all belonging means taking part in the rituals, and she does belong here. The faith empowers her as she writes, the conviction gives her strength, emboldens her.

E:-I like how this is delving into fanfic territory.

K:-When do we not?

E:-With a small one group that became bigger, more young girls begin to join them in prayer for justice. Misa listens to her followers, as some break down into pitiful sobs about the ongoing abuse at home, their stalkers who arrogantly force themselves into their minds, and so much more than the corruption of a skin deep glamor their work shines with.

There is an unspoken rule in this group that no one says aloud. A thankful tap on her wrists, gifts left at the altar Umeko made.

Misa has found her church.

K:-Misa has found her believers. She is a godess. No one would say otherwise. And she believes.

She believes that she has brought salvation.

#random k #a conversation with my friend #death note #misa amane #godess misa

7 notes · View notes

crystalelemental · 10 months

Text

Friends, at long last, it is done. Off-type Iris Sweep, up to current availability. Neo Champion Iris with Kyurem-White and Lodge Iris with Axew when?

Vs. Bertha Bertha I knew had weather, so my first thought was fuck yeah Clair. She doesn't get enough recognition as it is. Clair, like Gardenia, is actually really good when supported by some of the best in the game. I mean SS Kris. Not Lucas.

Vs. Aaron Behold. My greatest creation. Brycen is viable in CS. "Crystal, this is the dumbest shit you've ever said to me, explain now." The truth is before you, my friend! Brycen cannot deal damage to save his life, but he's a technical tank! It was right in front of us the whole time, but we refused to see!

Five Stats +3 is immediately removed by a single Haze. It hits AoE. There are no supports, so there's another +100 points. No strikers either, +50. But the real reason Brycen works? Endurance. His trainer move applies Endurance, and it has regular MPR. Brycen survives for as long as the RNG favors him. And against a fight like Aaron, where accuracy can be removed and is a consideration, it just improves his odds.

Now, obviously, Brycen cannot buff anything, so his partners need to be able to handle their own offensive needs. Irida is the obvious pick recently because come on, and Ghetsis isn't a bad partner to connect with Ice Zone. Ghetsis wants to spec into Glaciate spam, so take the bit of accuracy, but more importantly this leads to the other hidden success of the team. You can still apply status. Ghetsis has Cold Snap for AoE freeze, and Brycen, so long as he's not using Haze or setting Endure again, can freeze as well. Due to this disruption, his Endurance tanking with potentially long-term reapplication, and the points he saves...Brycen is a legitimate tank in CS.

Obviously, there are issues. Brycen cannot work with anyone who needs any offensive support, and the faster their setup the better. Brycen's freeze, and any Endurance past the first application, is wildly inconsistent. Ghetsis and Irida don't have the worst accuracy, but it is in fact pretty bad. Still, we won. Brycen won. Says who Adaman is better than Irida?

Vs. Flint Initially, I was going to do this as Lodge Rosa. That didn't wind up happening on accident. I just forgot to swap her in. But then I noticed...Flint could miss. And his damage wasn't that great even under Sun, unless it was Flare Blitz. Then, I found out Iris could actually take his sync. And from there it was all over. Iris was able to win. With some dodge and paralysis shenanigans off of Colress, sure, but the win's still there. And thus, I knew what I had to do.

Vs. Lucian We gotta Iris Sweep. Champion Iris seemed safe here. I mean, she's almost always safe, but I didn't think there'd be as much of a problem later on. As there, uh...as there was. It's bad. But here it's still easy. C!Iris with C!Elesa just obliterate things. The added paralysis on sides basically prevents actions under the boosted chance to spark inaction. I really should've swapped conditions, because that would've been smarter on the Iris comp. Oh well.

Vs. Cynthia I legitimately forgot how brutal this one is. Cynthia has Sandstorm, which is a huge problem, but moreover she spams AoE. Earthquake is bad enough, but Brutal Swing is supereffective against Lucian. Which is no good. Doing this off-type with H!Iris went about as well as you could expect. My first intent was to deal with the Sandstorm. Like, it's fine. But given how hard Cynthia would hit, how little we could do in response to the AoE spam, and that her natural condition is "half time to sync," we really needed a solution. Sygna Suit Morty was that solution, because oops I already used SS Kris for Clair. Funny how that comes back to bite me. Thankfully, Morty is stupid bulky, makes the team stupid bulky, and has great passive recovery to work off the AoE. Hyper Beam trucks sides, that was a clean two-shot, while Cynthia herself went down just fine to Iris' sync. Once we could survive, the damage was there, it's just...surviving.

#pokemon masters #champion stadium #off-type clear #sinnoh cs

1 note · View note

xumoonhao · 3 years

Text

all u straight girls who lost your minds over the mv for libidO better start supporting openly LGBTQ+ idols or else

#the amount of ppl ive seen applauding it for ~gay rep~ while openly gay idols/singers struggle? horrendous. disgusting. i HATE y’all #and...alright. i wasn’t gonna talk abt the mv but just gotta.#i GET why ppl are calling it that bc it is! its undeniable that it portrays gay characters/relationships in a way that is genuine #and that’s good! that’s a step in the right direction! but the idols are also Not Gay so it really is just an act which...that’s not #bad in and of itself it IS very telling that people support an mv where the idols are just playing a part and leave openly gay idols #out in the cold in terms of support and recognition. that’s where i have a problem and where i know so many ppl calling gay rep are just #fetishizes repackaging themselves bc hey! if they support this and its a more genuine portrayal then that’s great right! but it’s not. y’al #are STILL being freaks. stop that.#and...obviously this is coming from a limited lens bc i am in fact white + bi so my point of view is very limited in the grand scheme #if things but i do understand same-sex attraction and how that is fetishized and used in ways to simply garner views but...what I’m tying to #say is that mv isn’t the first mv to do this and it won’t be the last. all I’m asking is to give the same support to actually LGBTQ+ idols #and not just ones who play the part in an mv. that’s all I’m trying to get across #ALSO. this has been beaten to death but stop being so weird over the mv. the members seemed happy and comfortable while doing it #and (to my understanding) they have some creative freedom over their choreo so stop being so uppity. please. for all ive said here #the mv did do something unique so uh...yeah. anyways just....idk. stop being freaks. support gay idols. be good pole #that’s a lot of words. bye <3 #anni.txt #onlyoneof #kpop

24 notes · View notes

assortedvillainvault · 2 years

Note

Now that I know you're also a Maleficent/HK shipper...before I ask for any x reader headcanons...

Maleficent x HK ship headcanons when you're up to it 👀

Hello yes, absolutely, this couple is such an evil happy place I swear, prepare for a LONG POST:

They're both very private people - and are significantly more mellow behind closed doors, as such it took a LONG time to even broach the subject of attraction, much less pursue it.

They're both unapologetically evil and will not shoehorn themselves down for eachothers approval. If anything, they become More Evil and encourage eachother to get worse, especially if it relates to a slight against them from another party.

HK is one of the only people to refuse Maleficent and openly disagree with her, not just in private but in public. He's been around so long that his self preservation (and fucks given pool) is tanked.

He's never going to outright insult her (he's not that suicidal the fae are not to be messed with) but he's not going to put up with her BS if he finds it out of order, or feels that she is overreaching.

Maleficent actually likes this occasional challenge and appreciates his immovability, even if it incences her at times. Having everyone give her what she wants to hear all the time is boring, that's what she has goons for.

In return she drags him out of his solitude and won't stand for the kings apathetic depresssion spirals. This absolutely incences him, but it's becoming a long term project to build him up from the dark place he's inhabited for so long.

Their partnership is very strategically advantageous. After Maleficent's defeat and resurrection everyone wised up in regard to anti-fae measures and, more specifically, anti-dragon measures. Cold iron, salt and protection spells are now the Rose kingdom's largest exports, and Maleficent now meets fierce resistance where there once was fear.

Maleficent's style of power depends on her reputation and her being the offending party. Should she ever be attacked by a large enough force she runs the risk of being overpowered, she's a magic based personality powerhouse, not a warmonger or tactician.

Enter the Horned King.

His brand of villainy is very much on the opposite end of the spectrum, though no lesss terrifying. HK will sweep in, army and all, and quite literally lay waste to wherever he goes. He may seem to lack personality when compared with The Mistress of All Evil, but his reign of terror is linked to his very existence and the ruin he wreaths himself in.

He doesn't announce himself or send advance warning. When he shows up, you are expected to either surrender immediately (and die), or be cut down and have your corpse march under his banner.

There is very little posturing or delay once he sets out to accomplish a task, which makes his immediate aid to Maleficent's forces that much more impactful. All any terrified, half dead messenger can tell is that he arrived, slaughtered his way through whatever you sent, and then vanished again.

While his repuation is certainly something the King holds close, he secretly wishes that he had more renown. He's secretly just as dramatic as Maleficent, just very tired and much more pragmatic.

Upon realising that he yearns for recognition, Maleficent is there to introduce, guide and provide extrememly evil encouragement. Think Will-Smith posing, but way more regal and with the threat of lightning if you're not humbled enough.

She can't do too much or she risks overshadowing him, which would just rub the salt in further, but he support is there for more subtle social engagements, and for the rare times the King is on the losing end of a battle.

The first time a blood drenched, battle weary Horned King saw a green missile strike the earth and a full dragon form Maleficent emerge to scream green fire through his enemies, was the first time he felt his knees go weak. Just a little bit.

They're both turned on by murder and by their partner being badass. That they both have the medieval gothic dungeon setup to spend time on their respective sadism is a bonus.

Wow ok this got long, I, uh, like this pairing a normal amount.

#thank you for the ask!#thalassa responds #the horned king #maleficent #headcannons ahoy #disney villains #horned king x maleficent #these two support eachother so much #they refuse to compromise on themselves at all so literally the only way is up #heroes beware these two do not fuck around

25 notes · View notes

theseerasures · 3 years

Note

Anything that surprised you in terms of character, either in the development since then or what was revealed to already be there, in regards to Winter or Penny since they came back in volume 7?

aw geez. like, all of it? but to pick one thing that is about both of them, and all of it in a way:

making Winter and Penny friends was a genius move from a writerly perspective. that was already the case in season 7, just from the standpoint of the bizarre yet heartwarming odd couple thing the two had going on: who is the machine and who is the girl, hot and cold, yin and--okay that one gets confusing so i’m just gonna skip it. the contrast--that Penny and Winter alternately bring out and justify the people they are, to each other--was the point then, and theoretically you could have told that story by letting us watch them become friends onscreen, but you can write that off as a time-saving measure, since they’re both technically just supporting cast.

but with this season we see why it was so important that Penny and Winter were already friends even before our heroes showed up in Atlas. we’ve always had a pretty good idea that Penny had an internal life on equal narrative footing with our heroes: apart from RWBY we knew about her father even before we met him, and season 7 works hard overall to reaffirm that--even though she spends most of her time hanging with them--Penny can’t really be reduced to “Ruby/RWBY’s friend” anymore. the same can’t be said for Winter, who in season 3 was introduced and only stayed long enough to be reinforced as “Weiss’ sister,” and “Ironwood’s protege”--in other words, as relational to more central characters. Winter was posed as a figure in the lives of other people; she was seen, but we did not get her perspective.

in order to get from where Winter was then to where Winter is now (one of the most powerful people on the planet, lovingly centered in shot and hating every second of it) that needed to change, but there were problems. the obvious direction to take with Winter’s 2.0 patch (now with human emotion!) is Weiss, but in-universe this was complicated by Winter’s weird pseudo-parental role in Weiss’ life meaning that Weiss would not really think of Winter as HAVING an internal life, in a similar way to how kids assume their teachers just kind of vanish into the ether when school’s out, and out-of-universe all more Weiss-Winter interactions would do is underscore Winter’s role as just “Weiss’ sister, only...i unno, she’s nicer now.” and they couldn’t just have her zip around like Penny getting to know everyone and getting known in turn, because...*gestures wearily at all of Winter.* that she’s only known relationally is not just a Doylist issue; Winter is written to have no internal life because Winter tries as hard as possible to avoid any interiority.

her personal feelings, lest we forget, don’t matter. but her relationships do, as it turns out, and what Penny specifically demonstrates with Winter that Weiss can’t is that Winter is capable of forging relationships independent of Weiss. that was less obvious when they were all playing for the same team and everybody was everybody’s friend, but throughout season 8 it’s implied that they think of each other even when apart: Winter spends three-quarters of the invasion Troubled for reasons relating to Penny, and Penny explicitly brings up Winter without anyone else being around to do it, to the point where she actually corrects Ruby and clarifies that she’s thinking about Winter (and the General. the difference is important). they are each other’s friends, and the fact that they ended up loving the same people outside of their own friendship doesn’t take away from that.

Penny is living proof that Winter can make friends without anyone needing to supervise her, and the audience is included in this. correct me if i’m wrong, but i’m actually drawing a blank on other “adult” (in scare quotes, because Winter actually isn’t of the older generation and the textual recognition of that is kind of the whole point) characters who are implied to have a private life that isn’t immediately linked to the Greater Plot Conspiracy? like, the closest i can think of is Qrow’s Sadness Errands in Mistral, where he’s implied to have old Huntsman buds who are dead now, and...Raven’s whole bandit queen schtick, which by virtue of being anti-Greater Plot Conspiracy just ends up right back to being about it. Winter and Penny’s friendship eventually had ENORMOUS plot significance, but it didn’t start out that way--it started because they just wanted to be friends, and they were allowed to just be that for quite a while, because they created this little private space right in the heart of Atlas, away from anybody’s surveillance. and they ended up saving each other (over and over again) because of it.

what Penny and Winter’s untold friendship ultimately shows, then, is what Whitley shows by calling Klein when no one expected him to, is what the Happy Huntresses show by just. existing, what the Atlas arc writ large is about: that people change and grow, even when our heroes aren’t around to see them do it. that there are a million stories our Big Players aren’t concerned with, or only come in at the tail end of, but that doesn’t make them any less vital to saving the world.

#Anonymous #rwby #winter schnee #penny polendina #helen writes meta #the more i think about it the more 'well winter's in critical condition bc of you' is just like #elm knows they're friends. the aceops know they're friends. LITERALLY EVERYONE knows they're friends #except ironwood who brought them together in the first place #bc he was too fixated on the chessboard to notice all his pieces were making wibbly emotion faces at each other

264 notes · View notes

nitewrighter · 3 years

Note

Hi Nite :) Could use some cutesy Gency fluff rn. Have a quick short or interactions in mind?

I miss them... 🥺

Here's some pre-fall stuff from when Genji was still getting used to his limbs.

----

Genji's arms thudded against the limbs of the training dummy as Mercy stood tensely by with her tablet, observing and taking notes. The impact didn’t feel quite right--he could feel the reverberation of the metal at his organic stubs on impact. He was in a gray training jumpsuit--more of a wrestling singlet, really--that left his organic arms and legs exposed.

“You don’t have to--” Mercy cut herself off at a particularly loud thump of one of Genji’s blows landing, “You don’t have to go too fast, it’s just about maintaining blood flow and muscle movement, and building up coordination.”

Genji didn’t respond, mostly just glad he had something to hit now. He let Mercy’s commentary dull to a quiet buzz at the periphery of his consciousness as he fell into the movement of punching and kicking. He heard an audible sigh from Mercy, recognition that he wasn’t actually listening, and just let himself fall into the motions more and more. Not strong enough. Not fast enough. None of the blows hitting right. Get it better. Get it right. How could he avenge himself against the clan and Hanzo otherwise? How could he make them pay if he was just a stupid, pathetic, bloody little science experiment--? He moved to pivot into a devastating back hand strike when a sharp pain suddenly flared along his side and he seized up with a grunt.

“Genji?!” Mercy looked up sharply from her tablet and her eyes widened.

“Nngh--” Genji’s hands went to his side as she briskly walked over and stooped a bit to where his hands were.

“How bad is it?” said Mercy.

“I wouldn’t stop if it wasn’t bad,” Genji said through gritted teeth.

“May I?” Mercy said, her eyes flicking up to him.

Genji scoffed and glanced off, shoving the shoulder strap of his jumpsuit/singlet off and letting Mercy pull it down slightly to examine his ribs.

“No bruising to indicate internal bleeding--skin irritation near the prosthetic is well within normal range...” Mercy murmured, “Where specifically does it hurt?”

Genji pointed at the bottom of his ribs with his thumb with a grunt and Mercy felt at that point for a few moments.

“Is the pain still as sharp as it was when you were moving?” Mercy asked.

The question came so easily to her but Genji felt his ears burning

“...no,” he said a bit stiffly.

Mercy gave a sigh of relief, “Just a muscle stitch then.”

“A muscle--?!” Genji scoffed, “No--something has to be--I don’t get stopped by cramps!”

“Maybe not with your old body, but---” Mercy caught herself.

“There’s--there’s stuff in me now, how do we know it’s not... stabbing?” said Genji.

“If you want, we can stop for the day and I can take a closer look,” said Mercy, tucking her tablet against herself.

A low growl of a scoff rumbled in Genji’s throat and he glanced off. He didn’t want that. He was glad to be standing again, he was glad to be moving again, he didn’t want his own paranoia about all the things jammed into him to leave him bound to an infirmary bed or examination table again.

“Or I could give you something mild for the pain--?” said Mercy

“No,” Genji nearly cut her off with his answer. He didn’t want his rage to be dulled. Didn’t want anything slowing him down.

Her brow crinkled and her mouth drew to a thin line, and he couldn’t maintain eye contact with her when she was making that face.

“Just---” Genji made a pushing gesture at her, “Give me space. I can handle it.”

“We still need to take it easy--” Mercy started.

‘If it’s just a stitch, I can handle it!” Genji snapped. He remembered Sojiro’s voice. Breathe through it. Breathe through it. He took a few deep steady breaths. “It’s fine,” he said, the pain dulling with his breaths, “I’m fine.”

Mercy backed up a bit and Genji re-centered himself to a ready position. He gave himself one more steadying breath before he threw himself back into punching and kicking again. The stitch was still burning in his side but he ignored it as best as he could, focusing on the breath, focusing on the impact of the punch, the recovery. But he had already begun to feel the creep of exhaustion with that last pause. No, he couldn’t be tired, not yet. Did all those hours looking like an idiot in horse stance until his entire lower body was on fire mean nothing? All those early mornings sprinting around Shimada Castle, racing after Hanzo with the cold damp on his skin and his breath fogging in front of him? All that conditioning, all that work, all of his time that the clan ate up for their own ends, Hanzo had taken it all away from him. And here he was struggling to work up to a fraction of what he was previously capable of. Keep at it, keep at it, let the rage power the limbs. But even rage could only take him so far. There was a high pitched ringing in his ears as he watched his own strikes get slower, sloppier, but still he kept pushing himself.

“Genji--” Mercy’s voice was distant with the pounding of his own heart in his ears, and the strike of his limbs against the training dummy, “Maybe you should--” But he just kept going, just kept hitting, and she quieted down. She was making that face again. He could feel her making that face, and he kept striking.

Don’t pity me. Don’t you fucking dare pity me.

That burning stitch in his side was little more than an afterthought, but the limbs were slow, heavy. His lungs were burning and he was drenched in sweat. With his prosthetics he smelled like pennies. Smelled like blood.

Metal. Stupid. Useless.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, didn’t want to know how much time had passed, when he finally slumped forward, supporting himself on a training dummy that was just as damp with his own sweat.

“Just--breathe--pushing yourself too hard could make the healing process even slower,” Mercy warned.

“I know what I can do!” Genji said through gritted teeth. He hated the metallic ring of his own voice now.

"I know it’s frustrating, but even with state of the art prosthetics, you can't expect to get back to your original speed that fast," said Mercy.

Genji let himself drop to his hands and knees, panting.

“You have no idea how frustrating it actually is,” he snarled, not looking up from the floor.

"Your body has lost a significant amount of its original mass... it's going to be a while before your stamina returns, too," she said quietly.

Genji kept panting. She stepped away from him briefly and he looked at his own hands on the floor. He clawed his fingers, both organic and prosthetic, across the mat in frustration.

“Here,” She stooped over and held a water bottle out to him. He glared at the water bottle.

“You’re still human and humans need water,” said Mercy flatly.

His eyes flicked up to her face and he reached out and sullenly took it. He didn’t break eye contact with her as he drank from the bottle, trying to read her expression. There was exhaustion in her eyes, there always was, but there was something in the line of her mouth now, not quite that pitying pursing, her lips nearly parting like she had something to say, and yet at the same time didn’t. She settled down to a kneeling position beside him on the mat.

“All these... things I say... I’m not trying to dismiss your feelings. I know you’re angry. I know you feel cooped up here and you want to get out there so you can get to work stopping the people who did this to you.”

Killing. Stopping’s just a side effect of killing, Genji thought but he said nothing still panting.

“I want you to have your body working the way you want it to just as much,” Mercy went on, “But this isn’t something you just... power through to. You’re angry--I know you’re angry--but the more you fall into that anger, the more cortisol and adrenaline your brain pumps out--the more your body believes it’s trying to survive and shunts down numerous vital functions, rather than putting its energy towards repairing itself.”

Genji was still panting but hearing it put in such technical terms caught him off-guard. The body believes it’s trying to survive...

“Just...” Mercy sighed a little, “Have a little faith. Everyone here wants you at you at full capacity as quickly as possible just as much as you do. Even if we’re all...” she shrugged a little, “Annoying and preachy about it.”

Genji snorted at that before letting himself collapse onto his side and then roll onto his back, his chest still rising and falling with a shudder of exhaustion. Mercy pressed one hand against the mat, then lowered herself, laying down flat on the ground as well, staring at the ceiling.

“...why are you on the floor?” muttered Genji.

“Seemed like the right place to be,” Mercy mused, “...there are multiple times a day I wish I could curl up on the floor, and this seemed like a good chance.”

Genji snorted again. “You’re funny,” he said glancing over at her.

Mercy glanced over at him and smiled.

Genji sighed again and looked up at the ceiling. “You want to know a really stupid thing that’s pissing me off about all this?’

“What?” said Mercy.

“It’s... hitting me that I really liked my body. I mean, I was hot before all this.”

Mercy snorted.

“I was!” Genji insisted.

“I know!” Mercy blurted out and then caught herself, “I mean--” she cleared her throat, “Yes, it’s very jarring to have your appearance suddenly changed without your consent.”

“...so you agree I was hot,” said Genji, a bit smugly.

Mercy scoffed.

“OKay--Sorry--I’m being obnoxious. What I’m saying is... there was so much about it I took for granted, even with all the training and the conditioning the Shimada clan put me through...” he sighed, “And it’s gone now.”

“Not gone, necessarily. It’s... different. It’s changed. That doesn’t mean you can’t make it your own,” said Mercy, “That doesn’t mean it can’t be beautiful. That doesn’t mean it isn’t beautiful now.”

Genji paused, then gave her an ‘Are you fucking kidding me’ look.

“Okay, we can work our way up to that,” said Mercy with a slight eye roll, “Just.. in my line of work you see a lot of... nastiness... so you kind of have to look for the things that give you hope. And a lot of the time that can make you come off as...” she huffed, “Completely out of it to some people. Stupid. Ignorant.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” said Genji, “Preachy, sure, but stupid?”

“Just as much of a charmer as your dossier stated,” Mercy said flatly.

Genji huffed and a long pause passed between them on the floor. Genji took stock of the exhaustion in all of his limbs and lifted his prosthetic arm up toward the ceiling, examining it the way the light hit it. “...you think I’ll be able to do what I could do before?”

“Do you want my honest opinion?” said Mercy.

The question-as-answer made Genji tense slightly and he propped himself up on his elbows, glancing over at her. “Yes...?” he said slowly.

“I think you can be even more,” she said, not looking at him, staring up at the ceiling, “I just hope who that is, is someone you like.”

#gency

63 notes · View notes

wintervvidow · 3 years

Text

apricity

part one.

apricity - the warmth of the sun in winter

warnings: angst, blood mention, violence

pairing: bucky barnes x female oc

word count: 2,364

A/N: hi! welcome to part one of apricity! set in mid-captain america: the winter soldier. this idea has been in my head for a very long time and I am super excited to finally get it out. in this story I use the term “winter widow” , similar to the “winter soldier”, it has no correlation to bucky and natasha here. prolonged italics indicate a flashback. friendly feedback is appreciated! thank you! <3

ALSO: please know that future parts will take a WHILE. I just want to get the first part out to get the ball rolling.

MASTERLIST

The silence is what breaks her. She swears she would have been fine if it weren't for the silence, the screams of innocent bystanders no longer existed, the smell of gunpowder burning her nose and stinging her eyes. Aside from the erratic breaths coming from both their lips, you could hear a pin drop as their eyes stared at each other in a blinding intensity as Steve Rogers called out to him, “Bucky?”

The gun feels entirely too heavy in her hands as her lungs expand rapidly, eyes unmoving from the ghost of a man in front of her. Except he isn't a ghost anymore. He's here, alive. James Buchanan Barnes, her Bucky, alive.

He’s clad in all-black tactical gear, metal arm glinting blindingly in the sun. His eyes are a stormy shade of blue, same as the ones that haunt her in her nightmares, not the kind blue she wishes she could have back. The Winter Soldier is the shell of the man she was in love with, the man in front of her was the man she learned to love all the same. He protected her even when he didn’t remember her, even the brainwashing couldn’t fully get rid of the love they both had for one another. Although HYDRA fought like hell to make them both forget. It never worked though, fragments of memory always littered their conscience.

His brows furrow, overgrown hair in his eyes, “Who the hell is Bucky?”

Deep down in her bones, she knew he was alive. The last time she saw him he was being wiped by HYDRA, his screams masking her disappearance into the winter weather. HYDRA searched high and low for her, yet they forgot that they were the ones to train her. HYDRA perfected her, taught her how to disappear into thin air, and that's just what she did. They went as far as to send the Winter Soldier to find her, but even he couldn’t track her. Florence was a ghost.

Florence Morozov was many things before she was an assassin; she was an immigrant daughter, a friend, a nurse, and her greatest title of all, the love of Bucky Barnes' life, his fiancée. The couple, along with the third wheel Steve, were inseparable in their younger days before the second war. Where there was one, the other two were usually not far behind.

The trio had gone to the Stark Expo the night before Bucky got shipped off to the war. That night Bucky had proposed with a small emerald ring, promising her that when he got back they'd get married, move into a little white picket fence house, and settle down. They dreamed of growing old together surrounded by their kids and grandchildren. Only that dream had been crushed under the heel of HYDRA, not long after Florence enlisted as a nurse and Steve became Captain America, notably leading the Howling Commandos. Florence worked closely along with them, acting as a medic when needed.

When Steve woke up from his 70-year slumber on ice, Florence had a lot of explaining to do. How she was alive, what she had been doing, where she had been. She told Steve what he needed to know, leaving Bucky out of the answers. She had to protect him, even if it meant lying to their shared best friend. She would do anything to protect Bucky.

Florence explained to Steve that when she fell off the train with Bucky, she had been captured by HYDRA and experimented on. She was sent to the Red Room to be trained and then sent back to HYDRA in the ‘50s. She was their puppet for 46 years, coined the name the Winter Widow before she disappeared in late December of 1991. Florence was on the run for 17 years before she was taken in by Clint Barton, joining S.H.I.E.L.D along with Natasha Romanoff.

Natasha and Florence grew to be very close over the years, the trauma they both shared bonded them. Natasha was the only one to know the full story of Bucky, every nitty-gritty detail that haunted Florence in her dreams. When Nick Fury had been killed, both Florence and Natasha immediately recognized the ballistics information, a silent agreement between the two redheads to only tell Steve what he needed to know, no more than that. Florence only told Steve that she knew the Winter Soldier, nothing more. Natasha understood her secrets, she had them herself, her response of, "That's not my story to tell, we all have secrets for a reason."

Florence quickly tracked everything up to this moment. Fury being attacked, Steve's description of the shooter, the Winter Soldier attacking them on the highway only minutes ago. And then there was the chase between the soldier and Florence, trying to divert him. And it worked, Florence had managed to distract him until he got too close, the pair of lovers engaging in hand-to-hand combat until Steve intervened.

And now here she was standing in the middle of the street with a bullet in her shoulder from none other than the Winter Soldier. Flashes of the mission in Odessa running through her mind, he had shot her in the thigh then, Natasha in the abdomen. Steve stood in shock as the ghost disappeared, leaving Steve, Natasha, Sam, and Florence to be surrounded by HYDRA agents and arrested.

Blood trickled down Florence’s shoulder as she was seated between Sam and Natasha in the back of the truck. Her shoulder felt white-hot as she grits her teeth, Sam nervously glancing at her every second. Steve sat across from them, visibly upset, lifting his head to glare at Florence, eyes cold, "You said you knew the Winter Soldier, that you two had a history, not that it was Bucky!" Steve felt betrayed, his oldest friend lying to his face for years about his best friend.

Sam angrily glared at Steve as Florence rasped her response with a shaky breath, "Steve, I'm kind of bleeding out right now. This is going to have to wait, just know I had my reasons. I did it to protect him. And you."

Florence knew this day would come. Bucky wouldn’t be a ghost forever. She fought herself internally every night, dreaming of him. It was always him; the good and bad, the Red Room, what happened after the Red Room, their mission in Romania, and every second in between. She was permanently trapped in her own personal hell.

Steve continued on, “It was him. He looked right at me and he didn’t even know me.”

Florence knew the feeling. Every time Bucky was reprogrammed, she had to convince him to loosen his grip around her throat, begging him to recognize her before he killed her. And every time he did, his eyes flashing in recognition and guilt. And then he would hold her shivering body against his in the confines of their shared cell, murmuring in her ear that he was sorry. And she knew he meant it. Even if his mind barely recognized her, his heart always did.

Sam questioned Steve loudly, causing Florence to flinch as she fell back down to reality, “How is that even possible, that was 70 years ago.” Florence felt bad for Sam, he just jumped headfirst into a dark world with more questions than answers.

“Zola. Bucky’s whole unit was captured in ‘43. Zola experimented on him. Whatever he did helped Bucky survive the fall. Florence, how are you even alive? Zola didn’t get to you before the fall?” Steve just asked the golden question.

Florence took a deep breath in, “I don’t know. There are gaps in time, I don’t remember much from it. They all said that the fall should have killed me but it didn’t. Then I became a lab rat. The end.”

Steve looked her directly in the eye for the first time the entire day, “They must have found him and…”

Natasha interrupted him, she knew where this conversation could lead, “None of that’s your fault, Steve.”

Florence shifted slightly, sharing a look with Natasha, silently thanking her for diverting the conversation.

Sam shifted beside her as another wave of blood oozed out from her shoulder, he turned to the guards, "We need to get a doctor here. If we don't put pressure on that wound, she's gonna bleed out here in the truck." Florence appreciated Sam’s protective and caring nature as Steve continued glaring daggers her way. Florence knew Steve wouldn’t understand her reasoning, too set in his ways of complete honesty all of the time. He didn’t understand what it meant to lie to keep those you loved safe.

The nearest guard flinched forward, flashing the taser at Sam before turning the taser on the second guard and kicking him unconscious. The guard pulled the helmet off of themselves, revealing Maria Hill, “God, that thing was squeezing my brain.” She motioned at Sam, “Who is this guy?” Everyone shared a collective sigh of relief at the sight of Maria.

After ditching the car, the team arrived at an undisclosed location. The doors of the truck opened, allowing sunlight to flood in. Steve helped Florence down from the truck, supporting her weight with ease. Blood continued to trickle from her shoulder as she leaned against him for support as Steve spoke while he half carried her forward into the building, “I’m not mad. I get why you didn’t tell me.”

Florence laughed slightly, her body weak, “Are you just saying that because I got shot and I’m currently bleeding out all over you?”

Steve scoffed, his body vibrating with the action, arm tightening around her, “No, Flo.”

Behind her and Steve, Sam called out for a doctor. People ran towards them from the opposite end of the hall, Maria Hill speaking over the sound of footsteps thundering down the hall, "Natasha, there's something you're going to wanna see. Steve, get Florence patched up."

The group broke apart for a short period of time, Natasha reappearing with a hopeful expression on her face as Florence grimaced in pain next to the doctor stitching her up, "Fury is alive."

All eyes remained on Natasha as she explained how Fury was alive, a medication Bruce Banner had come up with did the trick to fake his death. Florence looked to Sam as he digested this information, he didn’t know what he got himself into. She could feel Steve's eyes boring into her head, but she didn't dare look. Her mind was a constant loop of Bucky.

Flashback:

His calloused hand led her through the crowd of people, Steve trailing far behind. The trio had just gotten finished dancing and now they were wandering aimlessly through the busy streets of Queens. The air was brisk as it blew through Florence’s auburn hair, her dress fluttering around her calves. Bucky stopped in front of a movie theater, the lights casting a warm glow over his face as he turned to face the girl. Her cheeks were blushed pink from the chill of the air and a smile had been permanently etched on her face all night.

The news that Bucky was being shipped off in the morning loomed over them like a rain cloud but Bucky was determined to keep her smiling; at least until the morning. His hand abandoned hers, reaching down to fish in his pocket. He found what he was looking for quickly, the velvet box small in his hand. Florence gasped at soon as the box came into the light, tears welling up in her eyes. She knew what this was, she accidentally stumbled upon it when she was putting away clothes last week. A small emerald ring.

Bucky knelt down on one knee, flipping the box open, “Flo, you’ve been by my side through everything. You’re my best girl, always there keeping me in line. I love you more than words can say. I know I leave tomorrow and I should have done this years ago, but will you make me that luckiest man on earth and marry me?”

Florence flew into Bucky’s arms in a flurry of kisses and agreements, Bucky lifting her up and twirling her. He gently set her back on the ground, slipping the ring on her finger as she giggled. Bucky met her eyes, tears glimmering in them, “I promise you, when I get back you and I will get married, we’ll buy a house and we’ll make it a happy home; kids, dogs, a garden, all of it. I promise you.” By the end of Bucky’s promise, both he and Florence were crying in each other’s arms, each one clutching the other tightly, both hyper-aware that the future wasn’t promised.

Steve stumbled his way through the large crowd, catching sight of his two best friends hugging each other. He didn’t have the heart to break them up at the moment, so he watched on with a smile. It would all be okay.

Bucky sat in the test chair underneath the bank piecing the remnants of his memories together. He knew them. The man knew his name, or at least what he thought was his name. And he knew the girl he shot, memories of her smiling flickered through his mind. Yet they were complete strangers, their faces foreign yet home all at the same time.

Alexander Pierce was terrified of this day, whether he wanted to admit it or not. He knew of the attachment Bucky had to the Winter Widow, ever since she disappeared in ‘91, the soldier was harder to control, more agitated and violent. He screamed her name in his sleep and when they wiped him he was always mumbling about her when he became coherent. They tried to program it out of him, and when that didn’t work, they tried to beat it out of him, hoping she would vanish from his memories the way his blood washed down the drain. Nothing ever worked. The Winter Soldier was irrevocably in love with Florence Morozov and Alexander was going to use that against him.

The Winter Soldier’s mission was to kill Steve Rogers and Florence Morozov.

FEEDBACK IS WELCOMED. IF YOU ENJOYED, PLEASE REBLOG.

149 notes · View notes

yoditorian · 3 years

Text

close to what

frankie morales/reader

as part of @din-damn-djarin‘s birthday song challenge, i picked dancing under red skies by dermot kennedy. it’s a favourite song of mine, i think it’s beautiful, and i felt like it fit this idea i’ve had swirling around for a little bit. this fic is extremely personal to me but it’s also not pretty. i don’t want to romanticise addiction or use it as a plot device, so PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS.

the support group and hospital drop-off box is drawn directly from my own experience. my inbox and ask box are always open if you need to talk, but i am by no means a professional. if you are struggling with themes of this fic a quick internet search should help you find resources local to you 💛

main masterlist

word count: 3.2k // warnings: addiction, PTSD, nightmares (inc. death mentions), recovery and relapse, therapy mentions, hospital mention, references to past substance abuse, implied reader is in addiction recovery, swears probably, ‘they’ as a pronoun in reference to the reader

Your ringtone is obnoxiously loud in the darkness of your bedroom but at least that means you don’t have to worry about where it is, reaching out blindly towards your nightstand where it blares by your head.

“You’re from the group thing, right? He’s mentioned you a few times.”

You don’t recognise the voice on the other end, maybe you should have checked who it was before answering. You pull the phone away from your ear for a second and glance at the time first, 4:03am. No call at four in the morning can involve good news. But it’s the name on the screen that has you wide awake in a split second: Frankie.

“Is he okay?” You ask, putting whoever it is on speaker while you fumble for the lamp on your bedside table. An old sweater hangs over your bedpost, the logo of a sports team you’ve never heard of cracked and faded beyond recognition, and you tug it over your head in a panic.

“I don’t know, he’s locked himself in the bathroom. I just- he won’t come out. He won’t listen to me, he always listens to me.”

There’s a stifled something and a quiet knock. But no sound from Frankie, just the shaking sigh of the man you’re speaking to. He tells you his name quietly, Santiago, and you remember Frankie mentioning his oldest friend. An image pops up in your mind as you wrestle your jeans on, a fuzzy picture on Frankie’s phone screen, passed to you over the sticky table in a diner, of two men standing knee-deep in a river. Soaked to the bone but grinning ear to ear. Pope’s got him, if no one else has. That’s what he told you.

You stay on the phone with Santiago on the drive over, convincing yourself it's out of concern for him instead of the anxiety churning in your stomach. Frankie still makes no sound in the bathroom, the door stays locked, and you try not to think too hard before you have all the facts.

The Santiago that meets you at Frankie’s front door is a far cry from the man in the photograph. He looks exhausted, on the verge of tears. You’re pretty sure you’re not faring much better.

“Last door,” He breathes, “Down the hall.”

You follow his instructions, finding the only closed door in the hallway and tapping lightly on the painted wood. Listening for a moment, you can just barely hear a shuddering breath. That’s better than nothing, at least it means he’s alive.

“Frankie?” You try, praying that he’ll relent when he realises it’s you. Santiago stands at the other end of the hall, wringing his hands together, phone trapped between his ear and his shoulder as he whispers frantically into it. He barely catches himself from crashing to his knees when the bathroom door clicks softly.

“Can I come in?” You have to ask him. All this has to be on his terms, he has to set the boundaries. Anything less than that is dangerous, you won’t risk him hurting himself.

He says nothing, but the door pulls back just a fraction of an inch and that’s all the confirmation you need. You push the door open enough to slip inside and shut it softly behind you again.

Frankie’s sitting on the floor, his back against the bathtub and legs stretched out in front of him. A quick look over proves he’s not hurt, and you’d breathe a sigh of relief if it weren’t for the little ziplock bag between his knees.

He’s very pointedly not looking at it, or you, instead choosing to glare at a spot on the ceiling. You maneuver yourself to sit opposite him, against the wall with your knees tucked up against your chest.

“Did you take any?” It almost feels wrong to break the silence that’s settled over the two of you.

You wait with bated breath until he gives the slightest shake of his head. He hasn’t touched it. Okay, that’s the worst case scenario eliminated. It’s enough to have your heart rate calm a little, it doesn’t make things better by a long shot, but at least it’s something.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” You ask, picking at a loose thread of your sweatshirt.

His chin falls to his chest and he pulls his knees up towards him and you’re sure this is it. This is where you lose him. But Frankie takes a deep breath. And then another. And then, he musters the courage to look you in the eyes. He doesn’t see pity, not like he thought he would. You don’t look disappointed or upset or angry, the way he was so sure you would be. You’re just waiting, letting him take the reins, he stores the knowledge away. In case he ever needs to dig you out.

“I don’t know what happened,” God, his throat is scratchy, “I just- I had a bad night. And I called Pope, and then-”

He breaks off with a heart-wrenching crack in his voice and you can’t help but reach out to him. Just a hand, stretched across the space between you. He holds onto you like his life depends on it.

“And I remembered I kept a bag on top of the medicine cabinet. And now you’re here.”

It’s to the point, simple, methodical. Like he’s back in the army and giving a flight report to his CO. You wonder if that’s what he needs right now, maybe spelling things out is better for him than asking what it is you can do. It’s easier, sometimes, when someone just tells you what’s going to happen.

“Do you want to take it?” You have to know, for his safety if nothing else. You need him to tell you if there’s going to be a problem, if there’s a risk and he needs more than you. He knows you’re not going to walk out the door and give up on him if he says yes.

It has to be his choice.

Frankie shakes his head again, a grimace on his face like he feels sick at the thought, and you squeeze his fingers between yours. You need him to understand that he hasn’t failed, that he won’t fail. Tripping up and falling behind are part of the process, and you know he knows that. He’s been going to the support group longer than you have. Recovery is messy and far from simple. He’ll get back to where he was, one bad night isn’t going to ruin him.

Your lower back aches from the hardwood floor but you show no sign of discomfort, waiting until Frankie is completely back in his own head before you make any move to suggest where to go from here.

“There’s a drop-off box at the hospital, you fancy a drive?” You keep his hand in yours, terrified that he’ll slip back if you let go.

God, he hates this. He hates that he can’t even look at you for more than a few seconds without his resolve threatening to crack. He hates that you’re not angry at him for any of it, not even a little bit. He deserves anger, he deserves your disappointment.

You were never supposed to see him like this, that much he’s sure of. Or, he convinced himself of at least. He’s been going to group and therapy and he’s kept up his tests and he’s stayed far away from anything that might even tempt him a little. And that was before you even showed up. Standing awkwardly in the doorway with a nervous smile and eyes the size of dinner plates. But he’d been by your side in a flash, asking you to give him a hand setting up chairs, and that was it.

Frankie knows the ins and outs of recovery, you don’t need to tell him that he hasn’t failed. But he can’t help feeling like maybe he never really started in the first place, leaving that one bag out of sight. Life had been busy enough to preoccupy him, between everything else he kind of just forgot about it. He let it gather dust and it should have stayed that way.

And then, it felt like he was falling out of the sky. And he couldn’t do a thing to stop it.

Nightmares aren’t an unusual thing for him, or for any former soldier, but the memories they stem from seem to warp into something else entirely when he’s too tired to pay attention. Sometimes he’s alone in the helicopter, sometimes he’s with family, sometimes strangers. It was his team tonight. A vivid memory of a time he almost couldn’t save them.

The crash never happened, he knows that. He’d righted the bird and got his team to safety the way he knew he could. But that knowledge doesn’t stop his mind from wandering, from drowning him in fear when he imagines what might have happened had he not done his job. If they’d crashed in the middle of nowhere. Would any of them have died on impact? Would they have been left stranded, wounded and starving? He’s woken up in a cold sweat too many times, each ending more horrific than the last.

Tonight had been the last straw. And Frankie had found himself in his bathroom, patting along the top of the medicine cabinet, before he could even realise what he was doing.

He’d called Santiago, still blinking back images of his best friend’s bloody and lifeless face, just to hear his voice initially. But he hadn’t managed to explain anything past the sob lodged in his throat, and he’d heard the jingle of car keys before he could tell Pope he didn’t need to drive all the way across town at two o’clock in the morning.

At least nobody had called Will, because that would have meant that Benny would have shown up too. Maybe even Tom would have dragged his ass out of bed. Frankie didn’t need to disappoint all his friends in one night.

Santiago is bound by friendship, best and oldest, he’d never say anything if Frankie didn’t want him to. And you, you’re bound by- well, you’re not really bound by anything. You could get up off of his bathroom floor right now and never look back. Get to your feet, and walk right out of his life. But you won’t.

He knows you won’t because you’re still holding tight to his hand, even though the angle and distance has you leaned forward awkwardly. You’re still looking at him like you believe in him, even though he almost threw everything he’s worked so hard for down the drain. You’re here, despite everything. Despite only knowing him for a couple of months, despite getting a call from a stranger at four in the morning, despite everything he’s done to be undeserving of anything good or kind in his life.

You’re here, still, looking at him like he can do anything. That’s something. That’s enough for him.

“I don’t even want to look at it.” Frankie croaks, and keeps his eyes steady on yours even as his voice wavers. To anybody else, he might sound unsure. But you hear that steely determination underneath it all, the same one that’s convinced you to keep moving any time you’ve faltered.

“That’s okay, I can take it.” You waste no time in snapping the little bag up in your free hand, and stuffing it in your back pocket. A phone rings in the hall, hurriedly answered, and you suddenly remember the other man waiting outside.

Frankie’s still looking at you, dark eyes unsteady and unsure, and you squeeze his fingers to ground him. He comes back to you, slowly, and takes a few shaky breaths.

“Do you want him to come with, or?” You leave the question open. His choice, entirely, the way everything tonight has been. He lost control for a moment and fought, tooth and nail, to get it back. You can’t take any decision about this away from him.

He shakes his head, loosens his grip on your hand, and asks you to give him a minute. It hurts, leaving him alone on his bathroom floor. But he’ll come out, you’re certain of that much.

“Is-” Santiago cuts himself off when you emerge and pull the door just shy of closed behind you, like he’s afraid to even ask the question. Let alone know the answer.

“He’ll be okay. We’re taking his last stash to the drop-off box.”

Santiago’s whole body sags in relief, and you can’t help but lean against the wall for support yourself. The little ziplock bag in your back pocket is a weight you don’t think you’ll ever stop carrying, even after it’s disposed of, but you’re more than happy to bear it when Frankie steps out of the bathroom and Santiago tugs him into a hug that almost breaks his ribs.

It’s easy to forget, when you get that low, that you have people. But they’ll always show up when you call.

You leave them to their moment and shuffle back through to the main room, your car keys and phone left on the kitchen counter where you’d abandoned them. You’re not sure why you bother checking your messages, maybe it’s to keep your hands busy, maybe it’s so you don’t feel like you’re intruding on Frankie and his oldest friend. They speak in hushed tones as your thumbnail scratches back and forth across a crack in your screen protector.

“I’m sorry.” Frankie’s voice is rough, muffled into the other man’s shoulder.

“Don’t be,” Pope squeezes him just a little tighter before pulling back far enough to look him in the eye, “Be sorry you didn’t tell me they were so pretty.”

It should feel odd, the way that he speaks as though the last few hours haven’t even happened. How a simple, harmless joke is all it takes for Frankie’s heart to settle. Pope doesn’t hate him, couldn’t hate him,

“Didn’t I?” A shy, shaky smile settles on his features as Santiago stifles a yawn, “Crash here tonight, you’re not driving anywhere on no sleep.”

Ever the caretaker, even in the wake of his worst moments. It’s a hard habit to break after all they’ve been through. Something tells Frankie, even as Pope relents and walks through to the living room to find a blanket and settle on the couch, he’ll still be awake once they get back.

You’re quiet when he follows you out of his apartment, quiet as your footsteps echo in the stairwell, quiet when you cross the street to your car and unlock the doors. Part of him still worries that you’re disappointed, that you’re angry or upset or that he’s fucked up so bad that you’ve already decided to drop him home without a word and he’ll never hear from you again.

But another look at you out of the corner of his eye as you plug your seatbelt in disproves any other theory he might have. You’re quiet because you know that he doesn’t need you to talk, that he just needs you right here beside him so he can be brave enough to take the next step.

The radio is playing some acoustic, folky sounding song that neither of you have heard before, and it’s comforting to just sit and absorb the peace of the night as you drive. You’re conscious of Frankie’s eyes on you, although you’re sure he’s trying to be subtle about his staring. His seemingly unwavering attention does little to quiet the voice you’ve been hearing in the back of your mind for the last few weeks.

He still can’t quite believe it. That you’d wake up, in the middle of the night, and haul ass across town for him. For him. Something about it somehow makes ribcage feel like it's about to burst and cave in at the same time. But now is definitely not the time to be thinking about the tiny baby crush he may or may not be developing on you.

You don’t miss the way he tenses when you pull into the hospital parking lot, muscles locked so tight that a stiff breeze could shatter him into pieces. He turns to you when you say his name softly, and his eyes are wide with a terror so familiar that your heart breaks in your chest.

“I can’t do it.” He chokes the admission out like it’s poison, and in just four words you can hear every ounce of hatred he has for himself in this moment. He thinks he’s weak, because he can’t even throw a little plastic bag into a hatch, because he can’t even bring himself to move.

“That’s okay. Did you want me to?” You offer, it’s plain as day on his face that he doesn’t know how to ask you.

You’re grateful for the unusual warmth of the night when you step out of the car, comfortable enough not to need a jacket at this time of day. The sky is just starting to turn that odd shade of blue-grey, the barest hints of dawn on the horizon. Another day, just like tomorrow will be. Sometimes, the next day is all you can hope for.

The metal handle is cold when you wrap your hand around it and haul the creaky hatch open, you fish the bag out of your pocket and don’t even pay it a second glance as you set it on the little shelf and let the door snap shut. Gone. But you can still feel it eating away at you, you can still see how it weighs on Frankie’s shoulders when you shuffle across the concrete and climb back into the car.

He says he’s not hungry when you ask, and you don’t push it. He’ll eat when he’s ready. He’ll live when he’s ready. You don’t mind, you’ve got a better idea anyway.

“Where are we going?” He asks when he realises you’re heading completely the opposite way from his apartment building. You shoot him a smile, turning your eyes back to the road before you can read too far into the look in his eyes.

The beach is dead, just like you thought it would be, and you’re grateful as you shut off the engine.

“We are gonna throw rocks in the sea.” You say and part of him wonders if you’ve always known exactly what he needs.

If someone had told Frankie, twenty four hours ago, that he’d be skipping pebbles on the sea with you at sunrise, he would have laughed. But here he is, flecks of the rising sun on the sea reflecting on your face, and you’re smiling at him like that as a breeze ruffles his hair. Maybe this is all he needs to find the courage to stare right down the barrel of his faults. He doesn’t know how you do it, maybe you can do it together.

You reach over and take his hand when you spot the lone tear tracking its way down his cheek.

“You’ll be alright. I promise.” You smile just as the sun finally breaks fully over the horizon, sky streaked with orange and pink.

“Yeah, I know.” Frankie can’t help but smile back.

TAGLIST (add yourself here):

@brothersdrxke @keeper0fthestars @thevoiceinyourheadx @firstofficerwiggles @1800-fight-me @ew-erin @chatterbean

#this is the most personal thing i've ever written i am Afraid #yikes okay #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #triple frontier #liz does words #sfw

145 notes · View notes

life-rewritten · 3 years

Text

THE DIFFERENT FORMS OF HUACHENG; TGCF SEASON 1

TGCF just ended, and I just wanted to cry because I'm going to miss this show for a while until we're ready for season 2. Good news Season 2 has been announced and is in production so maybe end of this year? Hopefully? One can hope. Anyways because we're saying goodbye for a while, I decided to focus my review on Hua Cheng this time. The many ways he has shown up in Season 1, the many encounters he had with Xie Lian who doesn't even know how long he's been by his side, the many forms he used to stay and help Xie Lian. In TGCF, Hua Cheng's appearances in Xie Lian’s life is essential because of his constant devotion and ambition to ensure that Xie Lian is protected, safe and happy. Hua Cheng shows up each time to an oblivious Xie Lian who only has been introduced to the knowledge of one form of him, San Lang in season 1. But what about us the audience, we've seen Cheng as a child in the first episode, in the intro, we've seen him as San Lang, and we've also been introduced slightly to his natural form, the Hua Cheng Ghost King form. So let's look into it more, how has each state been connected to Xie Lian and what have we been shown or told so far about the building relationship between our ghost king and our god.

The Different Versions of Hua Cheng

So the first thing we need to break down is the similarities of each of his forms and their different meanings to his character dynamic and arc concerning his and Xie Lian's love story. So as mentioned before there are three different versions of him we're introduced to:

The Child: We see him in a desolated state, with bandages surrounding his face, blood and he's in tears looking forlorn at Xie Lian who also has given up on something throwing away his umbrella and face darkened and walking away, probably to a small shack. We also see this child more importantly connected to our story because he's the first version of Hua Cheng in our origin of these two's meeting. He's saved by Xie Lian who completely stuns him and gives him the meaning to life again. We see snippets of this version of him in flashbacks and in the opening intro because TGCF is a story that is planning to unveil the years of Hua Cheng's devotion to Xie Lian, the reasons, the actions made, and the consequences created from it in the past.

San Lang: Number two we get to see San Lang, he's the version we spend the most time within season 1, knowing and having suspicions that he's Hua Cheng. San Lang is a mortal and meant to be a teen; he's wise for his age, aloof, and sly. And he's made it an aim to accompany Xie Lian on his journey to getting followers again. There's more to San Lang that meets the eye, he has a convoluted back story (which is backshadowing the truth of his past) he tells Xie Lian, and he's very loyal and protective of Xie Lian. Xie Lian gets to become close to this version of Hua Cheng; this is the version he trusts the most and is the person who becomes someone he cares a lot about unconditionally.

Crimson Rain Sought Flower/ Ghost King the most dangerous and scariest and wealthy demon/devastation ghost in the story. Xie Lian is first warned away from him because the gods are not on good terms with him. But Xie Lian can't help but wonder if he's more than meets the eye because they meet under a blood rain as bride and groom. Hua Cheng shows up in his real form to guide Xie Lian to safety. This version shows up again in the Sinner's pit in the Banyue arc in episode 9. After San Lang jumps in a sacrificial move, Hua Cheng eliminates everybody ruthlessly in the Sinner's pit and shows up again to fight Pei Xu to protect Xie Lian in episode 11. This version is the real Hua Cheng, he has one eye, he is cold, ruthless, but also he's made it clear he wants to protect and is on the lookout for Xie Lian. By the end of season 1, Lian chooses to ignore the rumours and become close with him despite the warnings.

Age, Status, and Love; The growth of Hua Cheng

The first thing to notice about these versions of Hua Cheng is that they all have a way of shadowing how he's grown and his journey to Xie Lian. From a child who's naive and innocent and is traumatised by events in the world, to a teen who is not taken as seriously, is wiser and mature and able to fend for himself, to the Ghost King who is who he is at present, his real self after many years, who is now powerful, in control and older but also not alive.

And the second thing to notice is the difference of status and wealth depicted with his versions; as a child even though we aren't shown the details, we can see that he's not rich, he's dressed in rags, and he's bandaged poorly and looks like he has nothing. As San Lang, he's able to fend for himself and Xie Lian by collecting scraps and rebuilding their first place together, and with Ghost King, you can tell he's wealthy, he's dressed in the finest of robes, silver dangling from everywhere you look, and we know from Ling Wen; he's affluent. So another observation to notice.

The last thing to notice with these versions is the one common motif, Xie Lian. Xie Lian is also seen in different versions/ forms to us each time Hua Cheng shows up.

We see Xie Lian in the child's eyes as a prince; golden, lavish and beautiful, he's dressed in the finest attire but also we see that Lian is the person who flies to save this child from either falling or jumping to his end. (still, we can't be sure why he was falling),

But then with San Lang, Xie Lian is undercover as a mortal (though it's pretty apparent to guess he's not) without power, followers or any self-esteem (from his comments) and wealth. But with San Lang, Xie Lian is vulnerable and shown to be more lonely and filled with self-deprecation but is determined to protect everyone he comes across, which makes him more self-sacrificial.

As Ghost King, we see Xie Lian on a mission as a god, untrusting, capable, and very cunning and intuitive, he wears a mask (literally wearing a veil) of happiness, ease, but he's alert and ready to defend and knows how to avoid being caught by his enemies.

Unconditional Devotion; The Love of Hua Cheng

In all versions, Hua Cheng shows us that he has with Xie Lian some kind of devotion and love:

As a child: His eyes light up for the first time, he follows after him (inferred from the intro and episode 1) and watches helplessly as he can't do anything to protect him at that moment. You can feel the determination, the longing, and the urgency in each scene he's shown watching after Xie Lian as Xie Lian gives up on himself.

As San Lang: He guides and protects Xie Lian, he stays by his side loyally and prevents Xie Lian from getting into harm's way using information that he knows. You can feel that he knows how Xie Lian is self-sacrificial, and he's here to protect and keep Xie Lian from being puppeteered or played around by others.

As Ghost King: He is deadly when it comes to Xie Lian, he kills and destroys and doesn't waste time with others, he's also protective of where Xie Lian touches, he doesn't want him soiled by blood or anything ( using either an umbrella to protect him when they first meet, or cradling him to ensure his foot doesn't meet the ground). He's determined to get rid of anything that could hurt Xie Lian or make him suffer, and he does it through violence.

And even though Xie Lian doesn't have any recognition of who he is yet in his life, in every version Xie Lian has also shown protection and care for Hua Cheng unconditionally which is embedded in his personality.

He saves his life as the child, (just like he positively affects other children like Banyue who look up to him), he is determined to protect and make sure San Lang is safe. It terrifies him to think otherwise, and he accepts Hua Cheng unconditionally after realising who he is.

He also shows awe and intrigue with all things, Hua Cheng, whilst others call him terrifying Xie Lian says his name suits him because it's pretty when he sees his butterflies he's in awe and automatically wants to follow them because they make him feel at ease despite the fact that those butterflies can probably without his knowledge kill and maim. When he notices others may notice who Cheng is at the pit, he's worried but at ease to see him hidden as San Lang again, and he finally tells him; he doesn't care who he is because he's a friend.

Xie Lian; The Goal of Hua Cheng

For Xie Lian he's realised there's unconditional care and like and reliance for Hua Cheng, it's automatic and he can't stop feeling safe and at ease with him. Despite his first time meeting San Lang and being suspicious, it took him an ox ride to find out he liked and was intrigued by San Lang even if he was Hua Cheng. He liked how he spoke, he liked his wisdom, and he enjoyed spending time with him. It became natural to rely on his protection, his touch, and his information each journey they went on.

And with Hua Cheng in all his versions there's that unconditional need to protect, devotion and determination to stay by Xie Lian's side. After all, that's where this started, him being affected by Xie Lian saving his life. We can guess he took it literally and made it a reality, though now we wonder how he went from a human child to being dead yet a mighty ghost king.

In a way we see Hua Cheng show up and start making Xie Lian find reasons for living too. Not that it's apparent that he doesn't want to live; that he's full of self-loathing and self-sacrificial tendencies. Hua Cheng seemed to be as San Lang, one of the first people who showed Xie Lian unconditional loyalty and support despite not seeing himself as deserving of it. Hua Cheng may not be his reason for living, but Hua Cheng is his reason for why he gets to live; many times Hua Cheng's protection is to keep Xie Lian from being hurt; the snake scorpion venom, the Sinner's pit, the Pei Xu and snakes, the head on the ground filled with demonic energy and Xuan Ji. Hua Cheng shows up as groom the first time we see him, and he leads Xie Lian to protection to the place he needs to go to know what's going on with the brides. With his determination, experience (giving Xie Lian information) and power Hua Cheng protects and pushes Xie Lian to keep staying safe and alive knowing someone does not see him as worthless or a misfortune.

Ghost vs Human: The Disguise of Hua Cheng

It makes you wonder this need of why Hua Cheng does hide in many forms; why does he not make Xie Lian know that they've known each other for so long? why does he hide as San Lang and not his true form since Xie Lian doesn't know who he is, and why does he keep his true form out of sight from Xie Lian. He's determined to hide his natural form because showing it would lead to opportunities of weakness.

As we can see from just his child self Hua Cheng was determined to do something, to become more so he could be of help, payback Xie Lian for saving his life, and become his reason to live. So he probably can not let any weakness affect him; he probably has built up protection of himself so no one can reach him so that no one can reach Xie Lian. His aim is to be a safeguard for Xie Lian, an impenetrable, protective and robust protection. People seeing his real form is a lead way to vulnerability and weakness. Him protecting how he looks makes him even more of a scarier person to deal with because you don't know his real self or strength fully.

It also gives him a way to be by Xie Lian's side without anyone knowing his goals; he does this as San Lang, shows a different version of himself which is more acceptable and less conflicting to be by Xie Lian's side. A mortal can be seen as a worshiper, a friend and a helper. But a ghost king by a god side is more looked down upon. We see this when Fu Yao and Nan Feng try to uncover who he is. Xie Lian has been warned that he should stay away from Ghost King version, and maybe Hua Cheng also thinks that version should not be known, or seen or met. With how scary and dangerous he seems, (he's known for his harmful actions, he also took out his own eye as he puts it because of insanity, he has incredibly deadly weapons and he's someone heaven is terrified of). Hua Cheng may think Xie Lian won't give him a chance to know him. But of course, he discovers that Xie Lian doesn't care about that.

Ghost King: The Past of Hua Cheng

The different forms of Hua Cheng we see as the audience showcases other assets to his mindset, we've seen him weak, vulnerable, and lost without Xie Lian when he was a child, there was a time where he was the most scared of everything, a time where he probably had no control over whatever he wanted, a time where he was filled with despair and obliqueness, but Xie Lian showed up as a light, the same way Hua Cheng shows up in Xie Lian's life in season 1 as a guide, they both shift their mindsets and determination to be better and succeed.

That's why his growth to becoming Ghost King is fascinating; he's become the opposite of his childhood self, he's no longer mortal and human, ( as we see with his other two versions) he's seen as ruthless and cold to anyone who bothers him or Xie Lian. It's not an easy feat; it must have taken a lot of pain, and suffering to get to who he is, for him even to become a devastation he would have needed to be filled with resentful energy, this means that he also is someone full of grief and suffering as Xie Lian who hides his behind his mask of an easygoing and cheerful nature.

Hua Cheng hides his behind strength and power, they both have scars and secrets hidden needed to uncover to know why they have become this way, but one thing stays for sure, and that's that Xie Lian and Hua Cheng both become healing to each other from their past scars. Xie Lian becomes Hua Cheng's sole reason to live, devoting himself to Xie Lian is what's making him good and not broken. Xie Lian on the other hand, Cheng becomes someone who makes him want to accept himself, Hua Cheng is someone who becomes a healing presence to him, he's happier, comfortable and safer by his side, and he knows this. Hence, he lets himself be pulled to him, carried and protected by him, he's shocked by it, but you can see it affects him each time Hua Cheng does something to protect him as San Lang.

In a world where we are focusing on gods and demons and ghosts, Xie Lian and Hua Cheng seem oddly incompatible; the gods look down on the ghost kings because of their actions and because they're closer to evil or immoral actions. Xie Lian as a god is meant to be moral, just and higher than others, including mortals, and so being with the most powerful ghost king and slowly falling for him probably isn't a great idea. What matters now is how long these two have been near each other, how has both the journey of them affected the other, Hua Cheng is entirely devoted to Xie Lian even after his passing and resurrection as a ghost king, and that's interesting, he has been watching and keeping an eye on Xie Lian who's oblivious and has more things to focus on than that, Xie Lian has a past which he feels guilt, self-hatred and fear from, it's slowly being revealed, and it's fascinating to watch it.

Hua Cheng also has many interesting actions he's made that also need a reason or explanation, like why he has one eye, what made him become a ghost king, why he aimed for an attack at the gods, and his real purpose with Xie Lian? It's been an amazing time watching this season. I can't wait to find out more about these two's journey and love story. The undying loyalty and devotion to each other despite being so far apart for time is fascinating. I can't wait to see season 2.

#tgcf spoilers #tgcf #hualian #tian guan ci fu #heaven's official blessings #hua cheng #xie lian #mxtx #january #cwg

255 notes · View notes

my-apollo-gies · 2 years

Text

Annabeth couldn’t see, and she couldn’t hear. There was this pounding in her head that wouldn’t go away. Every second. Continuous. Every second she felt smaller, curled up here on the floor, rocking back and forth, the sour taste of salt and blood in her mouth. She wasn’t sure if the pounding was her own heart, or something around her, or- hell- just her own imagination, but what did it matter anyway? It was there.

Go away. Leave.

No, the monsters were still there. Had she imagined them? Had these past few months…. had they- had they even happened? She couldn’t even remember what had happened. Maybe she’d just wake up and she’d be back home, tucked in under blankets, laughter from another room. But that laughter would turn to yelling. To pounding. Pounding. Like a monster’s heart. Like her own.

Why can’t I be left alone?

There were dots and patterns forming on the horizon. Patterns like those kaleidoscopes her siblings had at home, which, when turned, released glitter from the heavens, blurring vision. Annabeth was acutely aware of stealing one of those, hiding it under her bed, along side stacks of dusty fairytales and architectural sketches. It didn’t take long for it to be found and for her to be punished, though. It never did.

The glitter cleared, and so did the light. In her peripheral, she could make out a group of cyclopes huddling in the corner, guarding something. They hadn’t noticed her. Maybe her size had helped. She could slip away from everything like that.

The pounding was still there, in term with her heart, she realised. She must’ve been knocked out cold. But if that was the case, how did the cyclopes not notice her? Did something else knock her out? Honest to God, she couldn’t remember. Her memory was as hazy as her vision. Her vision. Wait, where were her glasses. God. God. Oh, God. No. She was scrambling, unable to move her bleeding leg, patting at the creaking floorboards. They had been painted black with soot, and then had the paint ripped away from them in places again, leaving striking tiger markings.

No.

Around the corner were her glasses, or what remained of them, anyway. The plastic frames themselves were mostly intact, but the same couldn’t be said about the lenses. One had only been cracked, but her right lens…. as much as that couldn’t be said. Half of it was embedded in her palm, dyed maroon.

Okay, breathe. One step at a time. She’d somehow found herself in a cyclops den, her glasses were broken beyond repair, and she couldn’t move her leg. Obviously, she needed to get out of here before giving her leg the proper attention it needed, but something was going to have to be done about it in the meantime. Was there a loose floorboard she could use to support it? A rail she could hold onto? Annabeth looked around in desperation.

She wanted to be back home, just her and her dad. Before the rest of them came along. Before she was shoved to one side, forgotten. Before… whatever this was. These monsters who came after her. She just wanted to be safe.

She was just about to give up hope when she heard footsteps. They were too light to be cyclopes’, but too heavy to just be a creature’s. The footsteps were almost in sync with the pounding that at first she didn’t notice them, but then the creaking came, too. Then, the drawing of a blade. She fought back a sigh of relief Annabeth hadn’t even noticed that she was about to let out. This was it. She was going to end up at the bottom of some collective obituary, Runaway Disappointment Children, written in fine print. She could see it already, the slight twinge of recognition in her father’s eyes, a query tossed to the rest of her family, who simply shrug. I’m too young to die.

Annabeth was pretty sure she would’ve let out a squeal if her throat wasn’t already too sore to do so. From the shadows from the around the corner, two figures had appeared, both with swords. When she squinted, there was the glimmer of studs off of the shorter of the two. “Thalia, wait.” A hand appeared from the shadows to pull Thalia back. Why were they hesitating to kill her? “Is that… a kid?” The previously gruff voice softened with concern.

The figure checked his surroundings, then darted forward, towards Annabeth. She froze. He gestured for Thalia to come over too, and they both knelt down next to her, Thalia putting a black painted nail to her lips. Thalia turned to the other figure, and there was some sort of silent argument between them, punctuated with jerks of heads and impatient grunts. Thalia sighed in defeat, then, the blonde boy, who couldn’t have been older than fifteen, stood up and crept around the corner, sword held forward. Annabeth blocked out the swords around the corner from there. She didn’t want to know.

Thalia was clicking her fingers in front of her.

“Hello?” She whispered. “Are you okay?” Annabeth was pretty sure that she was still in shock, as she couldn’t speak. Or that might have been an injury- she wasn’t really sure. “Sheesh, tough audience. Look, we don’t want to hurt you, okay?” At long last, Annabeth was able to let out her sigh of relief. “Well, that’s good.” Thalia smiled. “I was beginning to think that you were irresponsive.

“Luke’ll just be a minute, and then we’re going to get you out of here okay? We were looking for a place to stay for the night, but I think you’ve proven to us that it isn’t here.” Thalia hesitated, then looked down at her belt. “You...might want this.” She took a small, silver dagger that had been tucked into her studded belt, then handed it to her, handle first. She raised her voice a little. “Hey, took your time!” Luke was back.

Annabeth studied the knife she’d been given as they talked. It was simple, and slightly rusted, but a prick of the finger proved that it wasn’t blunt. “Hey, kid, what’s your name, anyway?” Luke’s voice made her head jerk upward.

“She hasn’t been able to reply. I’m not sure if she’s gone mute, or if there’s something wrong with her throat, though.” Thalia’s head tilted with sympathy.

“A- Annabeth Chase.” Her voice came out, barely a croak.

“Well, she lives!” Thalia was clearly trying to lighten the mood, but, judging by Luke’s glare, it wasn’t working.

“Luke Castellan.” Luke held out his hand to help her up. “Nice to meet you, Annabeth, and, well, you’ve already met Thalia.” Annabeth was on her feet, but barely, and was using the wall for support. Luke got her onto his shoulders. “C’mon, let’s get you out of here.”

#might actually turn this into a multi chapter idk #i just want some banter between luke and thalia okay is that too much to ask for #anyways why did i write this #annabeth chase #luke castellan #thalia grace

19 notes · View notes

murder-raven13 · 3 years

Text

My Haikyuu Ships pt. 2

A/N: This is the continuation of my Haikyuu ships and the reason I ship them.

Warning(s): cursing, somehow these kind of turned into small relationship headcanons for some of them, not proofread, looooong

Word Count: 2,373

Part 1 Part 3

Yaku x Lev

Honestly, the height different is a big deal for me. So fucking cute, like...just what? Plus, Yaku is a grumpy smol and Lev is a happy toll and I just-

But Yaku is grumpy chaotic and Lev is puppy [and a little oblivious] chaotic and them together is just adorable chaotic. Lev irritates Yaku so much in the beginning [which, like, understandable; Lev’s a cocky idiot], but manages to learn how to deal with him. Develops an exasperated fondness for the giant. Lev learns how to control himself a little because of Yaku [this is partly because now Lev has a singular target for his mischief]. They’re just so cute and Yaku is so done [was highkey mad at himself when he caught feelings]. Lev was definitely to type to fall in love at first sight.

Suga x Oikawa

Okay, Okay, so like I don’t know how this one started for me. But I love them, okay? They don’t like each other at first because they’re rivals, not just because they’re on different teams but because they’re both setters. But then Oikawa also thinks Suga is unfairly pretty [who doesn’t?] and Suga returns the sentiment [the level of pretty in this relationship should be illegal; it has reached critical mass]. And then Oikawa finds that Suga is an instigating little gremlin who physically abuses people as a form of affection. And Suga finds that Oikawa is super dedicated and a literal perfect director when it comes to people [he can literally make anyone sing any tune he wants with his smile]. So, these two get along like a house on fire. Two manipulative meanies. They get into so much mischief together [Iwaizumi swears he’s going to kill them or himself]. But they also are just really soft. Like, Oikawa will burrow himself into Suga’s side no matter where there are or what position they’re in [clingy baby]. And Suga will bury his hands in Oikawa’s sweater whenever they’re cold [loves the way Oikawa will shriek if he touches his skin with his cold hands]. They leave sticky notes in each other’s bags or random places for the other to find [eventually] with little compliments or things on them. Just, they’re conniving, adorable bastards and I hate them.

Terushima x Daichi

This is another one where I don’t know where the fuck it came from. I’m not even sure I have a reason behind this other than Terushima being a smug asshole and Daichi having none of it. Terushima is a ball of reckless energy and he doesn’t take anything seriously despite being ridiculously intelligent [boy is in Class 7]. And Daichi, bless his soul, is a dad. All he does is take shit seriously and chorale reckless idiots onto the right path. So, when they get together, Terushima ensures that Daichi lets loose and doesn’t forget to take care of himself [by making sure he’s not too stressed or overworking himself]. And Daichi is, like, all of Terushima’s impulse control. Honestly the only reason Terushima doesn’t die. So, they keep each other on track and make sure that each is happy and doing their best. Just a very chill, well-balanced couple.

Ushijima x Tendou

These are both my babies and I cannot with them. Their cuteness hurts me. Ushijima is so stoic and so single-mindedly dedicated to the things that matter to him and the list of things that matter to him is short: volleyball, his family, and Tendou. That’s it. Man is legit just completely dedicated to Tendou, no questions asked, would help him bury a body. But he sucks at communication and showing his emotions. And that’s never been a problem with Tendou. Tendou never got tired of talking to him, never stopped trying to include him, was never bothered by how little Ushijima talked and Ushijima literally loves this man so much. And Tendou, my adorable little baby, was so lonely and so insecure. He expected everyone to judge him for his appearance or to leave him because he’s annoying or a freak. But Ushijima literally does not care about Tendou’s looks not being conventional; he thinks he’s attractive all the same and has no problem telling Tendou this. And Ushijima has made a sustained effort to interact with Tendou’s interests because he knows it makes Tendou happy [Tendou talks to him about his interests, so Ushijima makes sure he knows all of them so these conversations can happen]. Just, they’re so perfect, I can’t.

Tendou x Semi

Big, energetic Tendou with grumpy, stoic Semi. Gives me life. Semi acts irritated with Tendou’s antics, but he loves them, really. And Tendou knows it, too. Teasing little shit; Semi never gets a break. Tendou helps Semi whenever he’s feeling down because he’s not doing as well as he hoped [Semi wants to be the best but being the best is hard]. And Semi helps Tendou remember that opinions don’t matter; that he likes Tendou for all those weird, annoying qualities Tendou sometimes hates. They’re very sweet and, surprisingly, Semi is the one that initiates most serious physical contact [he initiates their first kiss, their first real hug, their first cuddle session, their first time, all of it] because Tendou wants to make sure that everything is going at Semi’s pace since Semi isn’t as comfortable with touch or intimacy. A very sweet, yet playful couple.

Shirabu x Goshiki

The small, itty-bitty amount of information I’ve been given about these boys is criminal. But I’ve seen enough to ship this. Goshiki is overzealous and a people pleaser; he just wants to be good enough to be great. One of the ones that wants to prove himself more than anything else. Praise is received extremely well. Shirabu, on the other hand, wants the opposite. He doesn’t want to be the best, he doesn’t want to be the one everyone relies on. He wants to be more of an invisible support beam, a minor cog in an overall grand and powerful machine. He’s not very forthcoming with his emotion, unless that emotion is annoyance or disdain. Goshiki tries to be cool, but can’t really keep his emotions in check very well. So, they, as a couple, play a kind of tug-of-war. Goshiki constantly pulls for more and Shirabu constantly pulls for less, which keeps the two of them balanced, putting out just enough that they’re constantly improving, just in subtle ways instead of grandiose ones. Shirabu tries to pretend he’s not a softie, but he is [only for Goshiki, though, who basks in the little moments Shirabu lets him have of uninhabited affection, whose rarity makes them worth the world to Goshiki].

Nishinoya x Tsukishima

This one came about because of the lowkey abusive relationship Noya has with Tsukishima. Noya is like 5′2 and Tsukki is like a whole foot taller. Yet Noya can and will stand up to Tsukki and let him know when he’s being an ass, physical methods used as necessary [most of this is limited to hitting his side or messing with his glasses if Tsukki’s face is within reach]. Noya will also mock Tsukki, playfully, and reminds him of his age, which is good for Tsukki because he’s chronically withering inside his little tsundre shell. Noya is also highkey really supportive. Whenever Tsukki does something good, no matter how subtle it is, Noya is there to give him recognition for it, which, again, reminds Tsukki that he can be nicer and that Noya can see him even when he’s trying to hide. And Noya has fun with Tsukki because he keeps him on his toes; they have a fun relationship built of just the right amount of trust and ‘lets remember to have fun’.

Daichi x Kuroo

My captain babes. Daichi and Kuroo both have very forthcoming personalities. But Kuroo is much better at remembering that it’s important he acts goofy and stupid sometimes because he’s a student, a kid, and carry a lot of stress. Daichi isn’t so good at this. He’s gotten so used to dealing with reckless children that need him to be a serious iron fist that he’s forgotten that he needs to let go sometimes and that that’s okay. Kuroo helps him remember this. And their relationship is built around understanding. When one needs help or a little space to deal with their serious stuff, the other is right there to be the pillar they need. If they need to goof around and forget a little, they’re there and prepped with hot chocolate and bad trivia games that Daichi sucks at. When they’re both stressed under piles of work, they never forget the other. They’ll sit next to each other at the table, on the bed, on the couch, the floor, with their legs or their shoulders or their feet lightly touching, just as a reminder that they’re there. If one falls asleep, the other will save their work and haul them to bed because sleeping slumped over isn’t any good. Out of my ships, this is definitely one of the best, in terms of matching and functionality as a serious couple.

Kuroo x Bokuto

They’re relationship isn’t as serious. Bokuto is a refugee for Kuroo, a place where he can unapologetically turn his brain off. He doesn’t have to be a captain or responsible or the top of his class. He can just be Kuroo and Bokuto has fun with him. They go on adventures and play volleyball together, experimenting with new moves or ideas all the time. Definitely the couple that would regularly go to the amusement park or the fair. Kuroo gives Bokuto his undivided attention whenever they’re together and spoils the hell out of him and Bokuto’s mood swings don’t bother him, he knows what to do. Boys are very committed to each other; they can’t imagine ever not being together because their relationship is just so fun and comfortable. It’s safe and loving, without a doubt, because they are, first and foremost, best friends.

Yaku x Kuroo

Hated each other at first because their middle school teams were rivals. And Yaku’s a grumpy little gremlin that can be a little too serious sometimes. But that’s just until he relaxes. Once he’s comfortable with people, he gets a lot less serious and just a little less grumpy [he’s an angry smol and my mind cannot be changed]. But he loves Kuroo. Can’t help snorting at Kuroo’s god awful chemistry pickup lines; they’re just that bad. He loves them, though. And he can throw them right back. They have chemistry and physics debates all the time, often while doing something completely non-serious, like Twister or that headband game. Kenma can’t stand being around them because they throw insults at each other like they’re compliments, loving voices and touches and all. Kuroo is always touching Yaku, will literally reach for him completely subconsciously, a fact Yaku mocks him ruthlessly for despite that fact that he always adjusts himself to fit the contact better [because he’s just as clingy as Kuroo, just not as openly]. Sickeningly cute behind closed doors, only mildly affectionate in public.

Oikawa x Kuroo

A couple that met later in life. I ship them as college students, to be honest. But they would be cute. Kuroo is goofy and a science nerd; Oikawa would alien talk him into a stupor. Iwaizumi is just glad he is no longer the sole participant in Oikawa’s space conversations. These two would casually come up with plans to demolish their opponent’s spirit and have fun doing it. Plot murder together on a regular Tuesday night. Would definitely be able to calm the other down when they began to take shit too far.

Ushijima x Oikawa

[Can y’all tell I’m a whore for the enemies to lovers trope?]

Ushijima is a huge ball of attractive stoic that doesn’t know how to properly act on his feelings. Has always admired Oikawa as a setter [legit has crushed on this boy since the first time they plated a game together in middle school and Oikawa vowed to beat him]. Ushijima has no problem telling Oikawa how much he admires his playing, his skill, and his determination to win no matter what. Oikawa had no idea in high school that Ushijima’s interactions with him were Ushijima’s way of showing he liked him. He saw it as antagonization because Ushijima thought he was better [Ushijima thought they would have been their best together]. His growing feelings for Ushijima forced Oikawa to face some of his own securities and grow as a person. Had to go through almost an entire identity crisis when he realized he was in love with Ushijima of all people. Iwaizumi wanted to throw his entire phone away Oikawa called him to whine so much. And Oikawa’s lack of understanding Ushijima’s advances forced Ushijima to become more adept at reading others and expressing his own feelings in a concise, clear way.

Kenma x Yamamoto

This is my favorite Kenma ship and one of my favorite overall ships. Let me tell you why. I did not ship them until season 4 because I didn’t know much about their relationship until then. But Tora and Kenma are another set that didn’t get along at first. Their personalities makes them natural antagonists to the other. Yamamoto is a try hard and always gives 120% in everything he does. Kenma is the type to give a very efficient 70%, meaning that he finds the best ways to get the same results 100% would have gotten, just without as much work put into it. And they have such a grudging respect for the other at first, once they begin to come to terms with the other. That respect grows and becomes the foundation for their relationship. They know that the other is going to do their job and they’re going to do it well. They have complete faith in the other and when they work together, their personalities become magnified. Kenma relies on Tora to be forthcoming and Tora expects Kenma to find the best way to do things. They just, they’re perfect, and I love them. Please, why is there so little content for this ship?

On that note, Imma end this. There will probably most definitely be a part 3 to this because I don’t have free time, but that’s never stopped me.

50 notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Note

....Ok so I know that wwx & lwj are hardcore soulmates, but I honestly want too see what would happen if lwj loved jc instead? Like if he saw jc pet a dog or something, while at the same time protecting his brother? Idc but I’ve had the idea in my head for days

Donghua verse

Lan Wangji didn’t have much of an impression of Jiang Cheng at first, during his time at the Cloud Recesses.

He was supposed to have joined in the first round of lessons with him, in fact, but he’d instead chosen to remain in seclusion a few extra months, focusing on strengthening his will and his heart. This had meant, according to his brother, that he’d missed a truly epic showdown between Jiang Cheng’s unruly shixiong and his uncle – something Lan Wangji was grateful for, to be honest. He knew too well that if he was there that his uncle wouldn’t be able to resist comparing them, or requiring Lan Wangji to watch over him, or something like that, and honestly this Wei Wuxian fellow seemed like he’d require a great deal of effort and forbearance.

Instead, Lan Wangji came out only after Wei Wuxian had been sent away and Jiang Cheng left behind, and he found Jiang Cheng to be a serious and earnest young man, which was much more to his taste. He was diligent and hard-working, talented and intelligent and a little bit gullible, and it was a relief to learn next to someone who was neither as silly and frivolous as Nie Huaisang – who was so devoted to being useless that it routinely amazed Lan Wangji – nor as arrogant and self-absorbed as Jin Zixuan. The only flaw Lan Wangji could identify in Jiang Cheng was that he was a little chatty sometimes – always looking over his shoulder as if he expected someone to chime in – but in some ways that was good, too; he could sit next to him and let Jiang Cheng fill the silence, and having a regular companion made his brother stop looking so worried about him all the time.

Still, they were only classmates, not true friends. He thought he was nice, but nothing to really trouble himself over – and that was a relief, too, given how much his yang qi had been out of control around that time. Adolescence truly was a burden.

It wasn’t until later that he started appreciating Jiang Cheng.

Perhaps it was at the indoctrination camp, when Jiang Cheng had quietly passed along his condolences but didn’t burden him with too much company – he was too busy trying to keep the famous Wei Wuxian from starting trouble with the Wen sect, which honestly pissed Lan Wangji off; it was as if the other boy didn’t realize that they were representing their families as well as themselves, and that whatever nonsense he got into would be paid in blood and tears by them. If even Lan Wangji were willing to set aside abstract questions of justice and righteousness in favor of protecting those he loved in the only way he could, couldn’t Wei Wuxian do it too, even if only for a little while?

Perhaps it was only that he thought if he were clever enough about it, they would blame only him.

It was the tired expression in Jiang Cheng’s eyes, the burdens of the sect that Lan Wangji recognized from his brother’s face merging in with the familiar mix of love and mild irritation at an older sibling’s ridiculousness that Lan Wangji knew was often in his own, that had drawn Lan Wangji over to him – he couldn’t do much without threatening what was left of his family, his still-injured uncle and his dying father and his missing brother, but he could sit near to Jiang Cheng on the nights that he couldn’t sleep and offer him the silent support of company, if nothing else.

He found himself wishing that he could play the guqin for him, though of course he wasn’t allowed an instrument; he ended up drumming his fingers against a convenient log to create a calming tune, and Jiang Cheng would smile at him from across the flames of the campfire; sometimes, it even felt as if they were back in their quiet schooldays, sharing with a glance their mutual amusement and frustration with their classmate’s ridiculousness.

Jiang Cheng was someone who understood the burden of duty, while Wei Wuxian looked only at the burden of sacrifice, Lan Wangji had thought to himself then, and he would later be proved right even if he wouldn’t know about it for years on end.

Perhaps the indoctrination camp was where it started, but it was during the Sunshot Campaign that the spark finally caught, kindling in his heart. Jiang Cheng had lost everything, just the way Lan Wangji had, and his beloved shixiong had gone missing as well, just like Lan Xichen had after the burning of the Cloud Recesses; Lan Wangji at once volunteered to go help him in whatever way he needed.

It was good for sect unity, and safer, too, so Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren had agreed, but in his heart of hearts Lan Wangji wondered if he hadn’t gone just because he wanted to see how someone else was handling the same pain that he had.

The answer, to be frank, was badly, but – but Jiang Cheng was still that serious and earnest young man, diligent and hard-working, and armed with nothing more than his own determination he managed to resurrect a fallen sect and turn it into one of their most deadly weapons against the Wen sect.

Lan Wangji played him the guqin whenever he could, and listened to Jiang Cheng when he spoke – still looking over his shoulder for Wei Wuxian, an instinct he couldn’t seem to break – and found to his surprise that he had, somewhere along the way, grown quite fond of this man, grumpy and bitter and always trying so very hard to do his best.

It wasn’t what he’d thought love would feel like, the way his father had suffered from it: a sudden explosion in his heart that overwhelmed him and swept him away, a flood that consumed him and destroyed all self-restraint, a sudden single-minded selfishness, a single person becoming the light of his life to such an extent that it cast all else into shadow, with no room left behind for anything else, not self, not sect, not family.

No, this was – quieter. A recognition that his days were richer for having Jiang Cheng filling his eyes and ears, the feeling of comfort and familiarity that before had only been associated with his family, the slow realization that he wanted this to be his every day: this companion, by his side, working together.

The realization that he wanted more than this.

He wanted to have the right to take Jiang Cheng into his arms when he was sad, to take him to his bed when he was happy, to be greedy for those rare soft smiles and proud when others admired him –

Lan Wangji had long ago come to terms with the fact that he was a cutsleeve (it had been struggling to accept that realization, in fact, that had kept him in seclusion those extra few months), and he knew that there was a greater than average chance that he would be rejected, but he knew Jiang Cheng well enough by now to know that following his first instincts to keep his feelings hidden within his heart would only hurt Jiang Cheng more later on.

After the fall of the Lotus Pier, Jiang Cheng had learned to despise things outside his control – it was what he didn’t know that terrified him, the hidden motives in people’s hearts of which they never spoke, and he hated most of all the idea that people were making decisions on his behalf.

(He spoke of that hatred, sometimes, when the other sect leaders or remaining Jiang sect elders tried to order him around for what they believed was his own good, and his hands would always rise up to rub his arms as if he were cold; it was only after Lan Wangji heard the full story of how he had been bound by Zidian and forced away to save his own life, his parents overriding his desires and treating him as a child for the final time, that he understood the source of it.)

Lan Wangji knew that if he broke Jiang Cheng’s trust, his dreams of a future would never come to anything, and so he stiffened his spine and told him.

Well, he wrote him a letter, knowing his own lack of eloquence would trip him up if he tried to say it out loud, but he handed him the letter and waited while Jiang Cheng read it. The letter contained a myriad of assurances that Lan Wangji would never take any action if the feelings were unwelcome, that he was fine with being rejected and that nothing would change, that he merely wanted Jiang Cheng to know.

Jiang Cheng’s eyes went soft when he read the letter, and for a moment Lan Wangji had hope, but in the end he was rejected – but not for the reason he’d thought.

“You haven’t met Wei Wuxian yet,” Jiang Cheng said, casting his eyes down. “One archery competition and a few distant glimpses during the indoctrination camp don’t count. You can’t – I know you think you like me, but you haven’t met him yet. And you will, one day, when we find him again, and that’s why I can’t agree.”

Lan Wangji hadn’t understood what Wei Wuxian had to do with anything.

“It’s like a man who’s only ever seen the moon suddenly encountering a sunrise,” Jiang Cheng tried to explain. “I can’t let you make a mistake that you’ll regret later on.”

In the end, Lan Wangji did get a chance to meet Wei Wuxian, and he understood a little of Jiang Cheng’s fears: Wei Wuxian was indeed a rising star, his utter brilliance in all aspects too-easily eclipsing Jiang Cheng’s not inconsiderable talent. He was witty and charming, charismatic without trying, a clever and imaginative thinker that refused to take no for an answer – he took the Jiang sect motto of ‘attempt the impossible’ as if it were a challenge that he were capable of living up to, and perhaps it was because of that no one noticed the dozens of impossible acts that Jiang Cheng quietly did every day.

It had been the same before, Lan Wangji suddenly thought to himself; in the cave of the Xuanwu of Slaughter, Wei Wuxian had energetically challenged the creature, and nearly come to grief – if Lan Wangji hadn’t turned his back away from him, irritated for no reason in particular, he might have missed the shaky-handed disciple that would have undoubtedly shot Wei Wuxian himself instead of the beast, and the blood would have sent the creature into a frenzy from which they might not escape.

Jiang Cheng had been the one to lead the disciples out, finding a way out through the murky water while Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji had fought the Xuanwu, but it was only Wei Wuxian’s brilliant idea of having Lan Wangji use Chord Assassination while he lured the creature in to be beheaded that anyone ever remembered; it had been Jiang Cheng who had put the injured Wei Wuxian on his back and walked seven days without rest to get him to the Lotus Pier for treatment, evading the Wen sect the entire time, but it was Wei Wuxian’s righteousness and witty challenge to Wen Chao that people recalled.

Wei Wuxian was as bright as the sun in the sky, but his light was blinding, the heat of it scorching those that came too close. Lan Wangji could have loved him, Jiang Cheng was right about that; Wei Wuxian had a way about him that was nearly irresistible. If he had been the first light that Lan Wangji had seen, he could have been blinded by it, unable to see any other, swept away the way his father had been – an explosion of love, a flood of it.

He hadn’t been, though.

Lan Wangji’s greatest achievement in his life, he would later think, would be that he had caught Jiang Cheng in a private moment shortly before Jin Ling’s one-month party and told him that he found that he preferred the quiet pleasures of stargazing by moonlight over the brilliance of a sunrise; it meant he had seen Jiang Cheng’s wide-eyed expression of utter delight, uncomplicated by sorrow or bitterness, for what may have been the very last time it appeared on this earth.

Later, after everything, Lan Wangji came to live in the Lotus Pier. He did not speak of love, for Jiang Cheng could not bear to think of such things at the beginning, and he only offered his company and his music, the way he had before. He helped Jiang Cheng learn the limits of his grief all over again, the line between righteous anger and merely lashing out; he helped guard against Jiang Cheng descending into nothing but bitterness and anger that would consume the rest of his life.

He stayed, and Jiang Cheng, who had started to doubt if anyone ever would, slowly grew to love him for it.

(It was Lan Wangji who realized that something had been off about Wei Wuxian’s demise, and started investigating it privately, although oddly enough in the end it was silly, frivolous Nie Huaisang who figured it out first – even if the way he went about it wasn’t something Lan Wangji would ever approve of.)

After Wei Wuxian returned in Mo Xuanyu’s body, after the three of them travelled together to investigate what had happened to Nie Mingjue, Jiang Cheng turned to Lan Wangji with old doubts he hadn’t seen in over a decade, and said, “You’re not going to –”

“Ridiculous,” Lan Wangji said, and Jiang Cheng smiled.

“Ugh, you two are so married,” Wei Wuxian whined, as if he wasn’t still very firmly in Lan Wangji’s bad books for the whole revelation regarding what he’d done with his golden core without telling Jiang Cheng about it. “Why aren’t you married, actually? Jiang Cheng! For shame! Be a man and do your duty!”

“Get lost,” Jiang Cheng said, but there was a lightness in his eyes that Lan Wangji rather liked. Even with all his secrets and his lies, having Wei Wuxian back was good for Jiang Cheng, and what was good for Jiang Cheng was something Lan Wangji approved of, even as troublesome a thing as Wei Wuxian. “We’re not married.”

“We could be,” Lan Wangji said, and predictably Wei Wuxian started whooping in joy even as Jiang Cheng turned bright red. Lan Wangji ignored the troublemaker and reached out to take Jiang Cheng’s hands in his own. “I am yours. First and foremost.”

Jiang Cheng’s hands tightened on his, and even if he turned his face away to hide the fact that he was crying, Lan Wangji knew that he’d won his prize – that future every day that he’d dreamed of for so long – at last.

#mdzs #jiang cheng #lan wangji #wei wuxian #my fic #my fics #Anonymous

285 notes · View notes

djemsostylist · 3 years

Text

This is not Eda Yildiz's Story...

With SCK’s return in season 2 and this highly polarizing plot, I’ve seen a lot of talk and debate about plot and character and the direction of the show. I’ve complained enough on my tumblr that I think it’s pretty obvious where I stand, but lately I’ve been thinking less about what I hate and rather why it doesn’t work. Like it or hate it, I think we can all agree that the plot and direction of the show is strange. The story has been a mess, arguably, since the early teens. Once we’d finished Ayse’s initial arc, it was clear we were moving into “plot” controlled territory, and that trend continued. I don’t think anyone can deny that the new story follows a similar narrative “shift” that seems to have dominated the story since the 30s. It feels different, and I think that feeling has continued even with the return of the original writer. It sort of crystallized for me when I was watching one of summer’s new show, Cam Tavanlar. 40 minutes in and we had yet to meet the male lead, and it was then that I realized that’s it.

I’ve seen a lot of talk about how feminist SCK is, and how this is “Eda’s” story. Fans have long asked the question “when is Eda going to graduate?” and it’s a valid question if Eda is our main character, since that is one of her two primary motivations. It's worth noting before we begin that I like Eda--I loved her for the first 28 episodes, her portrayal by Hande is excellent, and she is a fun and easy character to love. But rewatching the early episodes of the show and then watching Cam Tavanlar made me realize the issue at hand: this isn’t Eda’s story, and she is not, nor has she ever been, the main character. The story of SCK is the story of Serkan Bolat--I just don’t think anyone realized it.

Let’s think about Eda for a moment. When we meet Eda, she is a down-on-her-luck college drop out. She’s lost her scholarship and is stuck working at her aunt’s flower shop until she figures out what to do with her life. From the first episode, we learn a few things. She has two main goals--graduate, and be with the man she loves. We also learn a little about her character--she is determined, strong-willed, stubborn, impulsive, kind-hearted, and loving. She believes in seeing the best in people (unless their name is Serkan Bolat), and she values family and friends above almost everything else. Her introduction shows her as slightly frazzled, a little overwhelmed, and very young.

Over the next 11 episodes, we learn surprisingly little else about her. These are the things we know:

She lives with her aunt after her parent’s untimely death which affects her to this day.

She blames her grandmother for their death and is scared of her control.

She and Melo have known each other since they were children.

She works with orphans and loves the idea of helping children.

She loves plants and flowers.

She likes dogs.

She has plans for two children someday.

She wants to study in Italy.

She used to own a charm bracelet.

She is claustrophobic, which is likely connected to her fainting when she is stressed because of a claustrophobic situation when she learned of her parents’ passing.

What we don’t know could fill books. We don’t know exactly why she blames her grandmother for their death. We don’t know if Eda actually knows/has met her grandmother after her aunt took her and left. We don’t know how she met or knows either Ceren or Fifi. We don't know why she wants to be a landscape architect, or what drew her to want to study in Italy. We don’t know why she never pursued any other options when she lost her scholarship. We don’t know how she got the scholarship in the first place (grades, essay, project, some combination?). We don’t know her long term goals other than graduate and get married. Does she want her own company, is there a project she really wants or a company she would love to work for? We don’t really even know her feelings on relationships and marriage. How long did she date Cenk? How did they meet? What did she hope for their future? We don’t know anything about her childhood or how she was raised, and we aren’t even that clear on her relationship with her aunt, since it vacillates from almost no guidance at all to extremely controlling and manipulative. The point is, Eda is still, even 39 episodes in, more a collection of traits than a fully realized character.

Eda starts Episode 1 as a headstrong, independent, impulsive, kind, strong-willed, determined woman who wants to graduate and be with the man she loves. She ends episode 12 exactly the same--different man, same goals, same traits. She ends the way she starts.

The next 12 are the same. Eda starts as a headstrong, independent, impulsive, kind, strong-willed, determined woman who wants to graduate and be with the man she loves. She ends episode 24 the same way. This time, everything is the same as it was 12 episodes ago--same man, same goals, same traits. Again, what changes does Eda truly go through in these episodes? Any? Does she learn to think before she acts? Does she learn to temper her stubbornness? Does she define her future goals?

Let’s look at Serkan Bolat. When we meet Serkan, he is the successful CEO of an architecture firm returning from a business trip. His main goal--his only goal--is to achieve success and recognition in business. We also learn a little about his character--he is a stubborn, strong-willed, independent, closed-off man who prioritizes work over everything. He believes love is a fairy tale, and that all relationships are ultimately contracts no different from work contracts. His introduction is calm, cool, collected, and in control.

Over the next 11 episodes, we learn A LOT about Serkan. We learn:

He had an older brother he was very close to. His brother was the golden child and the center of his family, who was a musician. We learn that Serkan was very close to him, and that his brother’s death rocked the foundations of his entire family.

He was sent away by his father to boarding school at an early age because his mother had a mental breakdown and couldn’t cope and his father wasn’t capable of handling it.

A lot about his relationship with his parents, their goals and expectations for him, and why he is so closed off and has a hard time making meaningful connections as a result of how he was raised.

That he has wanted to be an architect since he was a child, which is how long he has loved magic and the stars.

He studied astronomy in college.

He believes in supporting the education of young people.

He rescued his dog.

He moved home to be close to his mother who suffers from agoraphobia.

Where he met all of his close friends and enemies.

His feelings on relationships and marriage.

His fears and insecurities.

His hypochondria.

His various talents (horseback riding, car racing, swimming, guitar playing).

In fact, there is very little we don’t know about Serkan Bolat.

Serkan starts episode 1 as a strong-willed, closed-off, business minded asshole who believes all relationships are contracts and doesn’t believe in love. He ends the first 12 as a more open, giving, softer version of himself, who believes in love and the importance of a relationship and whose goal is no longer just to be a businessman, but to prioritize the needs of the woman he loves over his own.

Over the next 12 episodes, we see Serkan learn to navigate what it means to be in a relationship--to learn to trust, to give and take, to let go of control, or let his feelings guide him, and to be open and honest with what he feels and how he loves. We go from a Serkan who couldn’t say the word “love” when talking in private to his best friend and thought apologizing by email was the best choice, to a man who can sit in a room full of people and declare openly his love for the woman beside him. When the series comes to a close in 28, we have a Serkan Bolat whose priority is love and family, and whose main goal is to become a husband and father.

Serkan, from episodes 1-28, experiences an entire arc, from consummate businessman to family man. He goes from closed and cold to open and warm. From a man who can’t even bring himself to explain that he doesn’t love his ex-girlfriend, to a man who can openly sit and talk about how much he loves his fiancee. He goes from a man whose friends drift around the periphery of his life, to a man whose newest friend is a former business rival. He grows and changes and develops, and each of the storylines, from the fake contract in 1-12 to the breakup in 13-24, to working towards marriage in 25-28, all bring this about.

Even the story is shot to show us Serkan's pov. How many times do we see Eda through his eyes? How many times do we get to focus on Serkan and his reactions, whether it’s to Eda, to news, to his feelings? Think about it. If the story is really about Eda, then all the focus in the teens should be on Eda. And while we certainly see her reactions, the story is squarely centered on Serkan and his feelings. 13 is about his relationship with his father, dealing with his company in crisis, and making the choice to go to Italy with Eda. 14 is about him coming to grips with the news and deciding what he wants to do. 15/16 are watching him deal with the fallout and the loss of Eda in his life. 17 is about his fears and hopes for children and a family with Eda. 18/19 are him coming to realize how desperately he wants and needs her in his life. Eda gets reaction time sure, but she’s not the focus--Serkan is. Think about the episodes I just described--what does Eda really do in any of them?

Even their family and friends. Eda’s life is filled with people who are less characters and more set dressing for her story. Ayfer begins and ends our series as a character who seems to be whatever the narrative requires--she has no real defining personality traits, and her backstory is nonexistent. She has no life beyond Eda and the girls, and it isn’t even until after Ayse is gone that we start to see hints of her maybe becoming a real character. The results were disappointing, but I give props to the writers for giving Ayfer some kind of plot beyond “the flower shop is suddenly in a monetary crisis”. Fifi, Ceren, and Melo don’t fare much better. Ceren we know has the desire to be a shoe designer and has a rich lawyer daddy. She at least gets a side plot with Engin where we can see her as more of a person than Fifi, who was basically never a character at all. Melo fares the best, although much like Eda, she is boiled down to a few basic traits that don’t change. Eda’s life is otherwise devoid of color and life--no neighborhood friends or acquaintances, no backstory for her childhood. She seems to spring into our story like a fairy fully formed, and there is no real effort made to develop her at all.

Contrast this to Serkan’s family, where we get to watch not only his parents, but also Engin and even Piril and Ferit, grow and change. We see Aydan go from a stubborn, nasty, judgmental woman to a woman who is kind, open, and supportive of her son and the woman she wants to be her daughter. We see his father is more than merely an absent dad, but a man who is so stuck in his ways he is unable to open up--until Eda. (That his story is ruined is neither here nor there). Engin goes from a goofy sidekick to a competent husband and. Even Piril learns to unclench, Ferit goes from a doofy, hanger on to one of Serkan’s greatest supports.

The point is, the story of SCK is the story of how Serkan Bolat learned to open himself up to love, family, and the possibility of a life beyond work. That Eda is an essential part of that story goes without saying, but it is, ultimately, his story. It’s funny, but I remember at the end of 28 saying that I missed Serkan Bolat. My friends laughed at me “he’ll be back next week” and while at the time I was being dramatic, I realized it’s true. Because Serkan Bolat’s story was done at the end of 28 episodes. When he made the decision to get married to the woman he loves, to prioritize her over everything, to become a husband and father, his story came to a beautiful and natural close. Their love story was really his story, the story of two people who came together and loved each other, and the ways in which that love allowed him to live a full life.

Any story that would come after centered on Serkan wouldn’t make sense. At best, we could have a few episodes of Serkan as a married man, but really, he doesn’t have much else to give us. So, if the story was going to continue, something had to change. And that means finding a new character’s story to tell. Eda, naturally, fits the bill. Since her story and growth has taken a back seat to Serkan, it makes sense to pivot and make her the main character. At the end of 28, one of her goals has been fulfilled--be with the man she loves. Therefore, naturally, the next part of the story, the story she will now be telling, will be the other half of that goal--graduate and become a successful architect.

As Eda steps into the lead role, we no longer have a need to focus on a story about two people falling in love and how that love grows and changes them. That story was Serkan’s story, and the new story we are telling has Serkan in the supporting role, while Eda learns to navigate the corporate world. Her story is that of a woman who must balance work and life, motherhood and the job, family and friends while also running a successful business. In this new story, we have a time jump (5 years, which is necessary both because with covid we can’t have babies on set and also because they have found the perfect actress to portray their daughter). Serkan is taking more of a backseat role, having already achieved so many of his professional goals, so while he still is a successful CEO, he also has time to take care of their child and run the minutia of day to day business life while Eda stretches her wings and becomes the business woman she has dreamed of being.

In the final episodes, we would watch as Eda goes from a headstrong, willful, stubborn, impulsive young woman, to a strong, smart, business savvy boss who continues to put her family--her husband, children, and friends--in the forefront of her life. Their love story is now merely a backseat to Eda’s growth and journey.

Except, that’s not what they did. They made Eda the main character but then tried to retell a love story that had already concluded. And to do that, they needed to reset. Everything. After all, how do you retell a love story that has already finished? How do you retell a love story that we’ve already seen playout? How do you tell a love story between two people that has had a beginning, a middle and an end? The answer, it seems, is to start over. Scrap all previous growth, character progress, and storytelling from the first arc with one of your characters, and set him right back at square 1. Or, as it appears, square -10. Take your new main character, and change her. Tweak her just enough to make her work for this new and improved story by removing enough of her core to fit in the plot. Then, move forward from there, and pray the audience doesn’t see what you’ve done until it’s far too late.

So there it is. The fundamental problem with SCK. It’s not about liking or hating it--people like what they like, and this isn’t a judgement on anyone who is fine with the new plot. I’m hardly an expert writer, and perhaps I’m overlooking some missing nuance. But I don’t think you can argue that this new direction is good. It may be enjoyable, which is always subjective, but it’s not good. I don’t think it’s the sort of thing people will look back on and say “Oh, what an excellent piece of writing and characterization!” Hardcore Ayse stans will, I think, they seem impervious to critique or critical thinking, but a read on the fandom at large seems to indicate that most people accept that the plot itself is nonsensical, but they are here for Hande and Kerem and a cute little actress and not much else. To them, having Hanker on screen for another 10 episodes is enough, and there’s nothing wrong with that. I just think that it could have been so much more, and that’s what makes this so strange. But I guess maybe that’s what happens when not even the writer realizes who her own main character truly is.

#sen çal kapımı #sen cal kapimi #sck #eda yıldız #serkan bolat #this isn't a complaint post i swear #it's about how the plot has been failing since the 30s and why #it's because serkan is no longer the main character #and he always was #but when they tried to make eda the main character in a love story that had already been told #it meant they had to reset everything and change characters to fit

27 notes · View notes

boop-le-snoot · 3 years

Text

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 35

💖first time reader click here💖

Reader and Eddie going on their mission. They're all morons, okay? Some canon-typical violence, bad guys being bad guys. You guys can see that I treat the fighting plot points as total crack, right?

Eddie Brock was pissed, at the Avengers mostly - for not telling him of my accident - but also at me, for the fact that I didn't call him sooner. Venom had taken over at some point, eager to participate in my plan - and it I was being honest, my uncle's space boo was the one I had relied on to participate in the mayhem that was to be caused to finally let my family breathe in peace.

The Avengers wore various expressions of guilt when an angry Eddie stormed the tower, berating them for not getting into contact with him when I was in danger. Venom growled at them, too, just the right amount of teeth and drool for Tony to quickly usher me out to 'take a walk, have some fun, build a snowman' with uncle Eddie and Venom. It was almost too easy, too predictable. The guilt that reared it's ugly head was stomped down by me and two glasses of whiskey in Eddie's rented Airbnb as I went into the fine details of my plan.

Both I and Eddie were equally surprised when Venom dropped their sarcastic, angsty teenager attitude and approached the topic with maturity, giving valuable input. The goth space goo was much, much smarter than their first impressions showed. I belatedly remembered their remark about being an apex predator species... Scary.

The plan was pretty simple.

Eddie was a professional investigative reporter and an unregistered mutant, his files being hidden so deeply due to the alien nature of the symbiote that it was unlikely that underground gangs would have any idea as to who he truly was. His involvement with SHIELD was buried under so much red tape, even Coulson himself had very little idea about Eddie's body-mate.

My uncle would sniff around the mutant underworld, just enough to catch a whiff of the mercenary's whereabouts. It should be enough if he was as famous as Natasha claimed him to be. And if it wasn't enough... I'd be bait. I doubt that the merc knew the box has been retrieved and secured; every now and then, I still caught chatter about the SHIELD agents trailing me catching a person sent to monitor me. They weren't even trying to hide that hard.

I had my suspicions SHIELD was indirectly using me as bait, too, and both Eddie and Venom were inclined to agree with the notion. Over beers and ridiculous amount of chocolate cake, a third side of the operation Baby Thief had been formed. SHIELD played their own game, the Avengers and SI threw a ridiculous amount of resources on their own and then there was me and Eddie, two halves of a whole idiot.

For once, the plan didn't go south immediately off the bat. Eddie and Venom got the information - there was a lot of uproar in the mutant community, rumours about an artifact that would let them assume their rightful place in the world, pushing the pesky humans off their pedestal. I definitely supported mutant rights - but the common notion that violence was necessary to achieve the recognition of said rights didn't sit well with me at all. Eddie agreed with me, his own curiousity pushing him to dig deeper into the situation.

My uncle could be a brilliant investigative reporter with the proper motivation and his significant other at the side. I could never tire of Venom's stories: each and every time they saved Eddie from making a clown out of himself was remembered, documented and brought up at the quickest available opportunity. I haven't laughed so hard in months.

The positives of our plan? We got a hot trail and enough information to know about the mercenary's whereabouts. We possessed the manpower needed to off him in record time, Venom eagerly offering his digestive system for our convenience.

The negatives? We'd need to bring me. Apparently there was a hefty bounty on my pretty little head and the merc himself had given up trying to chase me, hiring a bunch of muscle to do the legwork for him instead. The mercenary, a man who went by the nickname Cadre, was an ex-shield agent, who knew enough to successfully avoid the organisation following hot on his heels.

And neither SHIELD, nor Tony nor Eddie knew who had ordered the retrieval of the artifact. The mysterious person had deep pockets: all of the men were supplied with high grade weaponry and the mutants participating in the missions had equipment specifically tailored to their powers.

Perhaps, I wasn't as clever as I wanted myself to be. There was something big and ugly brewing and the bounty on my head was just the tip of the iceberg. But what was done, was done, and Venom was looking forward to a hefty meal and we set the date of Eddie "kidnapping" me in a few days time.

I hoped I'd make it home for Christmas.

The biggest surprise was that nobody suspected anything. Not even Natasha's watchful eye and inherent knowledge of shit about to be stirred - somehow, Nat always just knew those things - had revealed itself and that's how I knew it was absolutely necessary for me to be successful. There was no room for failure. In the day before my planned trip to Cadre's lair, I forced the team into a movie night and took extra time with everybody, seeing as even the most cheerful people - Thor and Wanda - walked around with sullen faces for most of the time. Perhaps, deep down, I knew that chances of my plan going awry were pretty damn high.

It felt like I was leaving for war. And perhaps, I was. The nervous, anxious energy increased as the hour X drew closer and I couldn't hide it anymore. My insomnia wore Tony's face: I could see his disappointment as clear as day, but I figured he'd forgive me for the betrayal eventually. Every single thing I hid from my newfound family made me feel a traitor. Unfortunately, there was simply no other option.

That afternoon, Eddie picked me up from the tower and drove me to one of the hideouts that belonged to Cabre. He'd tied my hands together and blindfolded me, all for show of course, whilst Venom briefly connected with my body to induce a drowsy state of mind. I didn't actually mind to be drugged and was way more wary of the symbiote's effects on my body but the space pudding extended his tentacles so quickly, I barely had the time to even swear at them.

To my (and their) surprise, it wasn't as bad as we thought it would be. In my hazy state, I briefly head Venom growl that I could be a decent short-term host if something would to happen with Eddie; I did not know how that information made me feel but did not disregard it completely. I was out of my depth on this one yet marched on towards the danger with grim determination.

"Here's the girl," Eddie's voice penetrated through the curtain of chemicals that Venom had dosed me with; I was tossed none too gently on what felt like a mattress, the landing haphazard but not painful. Venom must've dulled my pain receptors, too. "Where's our money?"

I was unceremoniously groped, my face examined by a man with ice-cold hands. Whatever he found, he deemed it satisfactory. "I'm impressed," He whistled. "We've been trying to get her for months. Care to share how you achieved this?" The strange man sounded suspicious.

"WE HAVE OUR OWN TRICKS," Venom's deep voice filled out the room like thick smoke and I just knew that the man who had been groping me was twitching in discomfort. "SO?"

"Alright, alright," The man mumbled, voice unsteady. My drowsiness slowly began to recede and I finally could focus my eyes somewhat; Eddie was partially obscured by the writhing, onyx mass of his symbiote and the man was dialing up the phone, speaking in a rapid-fire dialect I did not know. "Cabre will be here in an hour. Care for a beer?" Just like that, the man was obviously attempting to placate Eddie.

"HOT CHOCOLATE," Venom announced flatly and I had to struggle to hold back my laughter at the image of a seven feet tall tentacle monster sipping hot cocoa from a tiny porcelain cup. My nerves had me feeling ten types of way, as usual, and props to Ven making me unable to speak. I would have already killed myself by running my mouth ten times over.

The hour passed by with me floating in my mindsphere, Eddie loudly playing Candy Crush on his phone and Venom consuming ridiculous amounts of hot chocolate. It was absurd and the eerie calm was beginning to make me suspicious; I had expected... More. Threatening thugs with guns, experiments, blood tests and physical violence. Instead, the man who met with Eddie was sitting with a vacant, bored expression as he practiced card tricks in the corner furthest away from Venom.

Finally, a knock on the door forced all of us to pay attention to the newcomer. It was a tall, massively built man in his early forties. His face was covered in scars, narrow red lines that looked like small cuts; one of his eyes was completely black while the other was blue. He looked like the man at the coffee shop but at the same time, nothing like him at all.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," His voice was low and quiet. If not for the heavyweight weapon hanging over his shoulder, I would have considered him to be one of those men who only look threatening but actually are gentle giants. With steps too quiet for a man his size, he approached me, crouching down to look me in the face. "Hello, child. I've been looking for you for a long time. It's a shame we had to meet this way," He removed the strands of hair sticking to my face. For all purposes, his touch could have been considered fatherly. "Richard, bring the money." With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the man who was babysitting me and Eddie and he promptly disappeared behind the steel door.

"Hello," Eddie briefly shook his hands with Cabre after the merc left me alone. I noted Venom had disappeared into the reporter's body completely. "We are Venom," Eddie introduced himself (they introduced themselves?).

"Cabre," The Merc watched my honorary uncle with a sharp eye, taking note of Eddie's lack of weapons, his worn clothes and the shaggy hair, the bags under his eyes. "Tell me, Venom, what do you know of this child?"

"Not much," Eddie shrugged, convincingly. "Just that the Avengers picked her up for some reason and locked her up in Stark's tower. We're guessing she didn't like it much 'cuz she kept sneaking out and trying to shake off the tail. Had to go through quite a few SHIELD agents to get to her," Just like we agreed, Eddie spoke with slight disdain towards Tony and SHIELD, making sure to let Cabre believe he was on the mutants' side. "We just need the money, man. Not many people will hire us," To top it up, Eddie spread his arms, showing his skin ripple and move on it's own prominently under his ratty t-shirt. Atta boy!

Cabre appeared to have bought the lie, chuffing sympathetically, before pulling out a tablet and typing on it. "Well, not for long. My superiors have found an artifact that, if unlocked properly, will render most of the technology suppressing mutant powers useless. They won't be able to get rid of us that easily anymore."

Eddie nodded eagerly, for all purposes appearing to be ecstatic about the news. "Yeah, heard some rumors here and there. Well, you and your superiors know where to find me. I could always go with some extra cash," He scratched his head, carefully watching Cabre's fingers dance on the keyboard. "What's the kid got to do with it anyway? Seems like an ordinary spoiled brat to me," Eddie threw me a look, blinking twice. The fatigue and wariness, courtesy of Venom, had begun to recede quite some time ago; with Eddie's signal, I knew the shitshow was about to start very soon.

Eddie was smart, however, finding out the bits of information SHIELD hadn't bothered to disclose to me. The residue that the cursed box had left in me was removed, so I could not understand why SHIELD was still guarding me. There had to have been another reason, a reason that neither of us knew for sure.

Cabre paused his typing. "We've been watching her for years. She's a genius. We were hoping she could help us solve a few problems..." The merc paused to rub the bridge of his nose. "We tried to get her to come willingly but her parents forbade her from it. My superiors suggested to use the artifact but something malfunctioned." For all purposes, Cabre was looking apologetic. "I am not overly fond of kidnapping children but some things just need to be done." With that, the man turned around, landing his eyes on me. "Glad to see you're up and about." Something about his smile was unnatural, forced, malicious.

"Charmed to meet you," I sat up, dazed and confused about the turn of events. The things he was saying, they didn't add up. I hadn't received any requests for my participation in ANY kind of project, illlegal or not. No scholarships, no internship offers. Something was very, very wrong.

As soon as Cabre's back was turned, Venom enveloped Eddie, turning themselves into the seven feet tall outer space monstrosity I had seen on the first day. Their combined form was terrifying - but Cabre's fingers merely twitched at the rapid change of the situation as he took slow steps towards me. "Hmm," His voice still quiet, he once again crouched in front of me. "You fought us off once but we are many. There is nowhere to run, child," Cabre's eyes began to darken, his speech turning flat.

I recognized the speech pattern, recalled the expressionless, vacant face that stared at me. Cabre was infected with the Legion from the cursed box; I hadn't prepared for that, hadn't even regarded that, thinking the little epic speech the demon had given me was a mere intimidation tactic. Fear bloomed within me, opening it's jaws like a hungry Venus flytrap but I refused to succumb to it, clenching my fists against the waves of paralyzing terror.

Venom made a confused growling noise behind me, extending a tentacle to push Cabre away; with a sickeningly wet splat, their whole form collided with the opposite wall, sliding down it like a puddle of misshapen goop. "MORSEL, GET OUT." The symbiote growled, reforming itself back.

"Silence, beast!" Cabre shrieked, unstrapping his weapon and aiming it at Venom. No bullets came out as he pressed the trigger but my ear started ringing, eyes watering as the whole form of the symbiote began to morph and ripple. Pained groans and whines came from them. A sonic gun?

"Screw you, man," I attempted to draw Cabre's attention to myself by kicking out a leg towards the gun, disrupting his arm briefly. Things were going to shit faster than a party full of teenagers and alcohol. "Fuck you, listen, FUCK YOU!" I knew antagonizing people was my best skill and that's what I did, figuring the time needed for Venom to reassemble themself could be acquired if Cabre was pissed off enough at me.

The backhand hurt, not going to lie. I saw stars from that one sloppy hit the possessed merc delivered to my face. The adrenaline rush allowed me to stay somewhat coherent and just like that time when I was trapped in my nightmares, I dove for Cabre, winding myself around him as both of us landed on the floor in a heap of limbs.

Despite my best hopes, Venom remained a puddle of black on the floor. I saw something shiny attach itself to Eddie's chest; apparently that something prevented them from combining into one again. My smaller size proved to be a great advantage; I remembered Venom's words about being a suitable short-term host and with a shriek, I placed my palm into the nearest piece of symbiote I could reach, my vision being obscured by blackness a second later.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95 @gladiosamicitias @warrior1-19 @toomanyrobins @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming

#party favours #bun writes #tony stark x reader #bruce banner x reader #Stephen Strange x reader #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x you #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x y/n #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange x you

58 notes · View notes