#isolating myself from them was the stupidest thing i ever did | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hollenka99 · 4 years ago

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The Futility of Talking

Summary: Ghostbur decides Soulbur needs people to talk to.

Warnings: implied suicidal ideation, referenced parental neglect, referenced animal death, nearly drowning (accident unrelated to the first tw)

Masterlist

It takes days of wandering in the woods for Ghostbur to gradually decide he's had enough. It's isolating out here in the open. This isn't helped by the fact Soulbur seems hellbent on avoiding him whenever he is bestowed the privilege of catching a glimpse. Did he do something wrong? If he made Soulbur upset somehow, he'd really love to apologise and work through it.

Friend turns his head at a slight rustle coming from the trees. Ghostbur's face lights up when he follows the sheep's gaze and his eyes land on a calico lazing around on a branch. He commands Friend to stay there. Climbing the tree isn't that difficult so it doesn't take him long to perch on an adjacent branch, hand outstretched to gain the cat's trust. "Hi, I'm Ghostbur. Do you like chin scratches? I know she did." He sits by the steam, pole in hand. He's done for the morning with the trading he set out to the village for. There seems to be more than enough fish to spare here so today is getting more successful by the hour. A squid found itself on the end of his line earlier too. He'll have to work out how to prepare it. He's sure Phil demonstrated once but that was likely years ago. Phil himself has gone off for a short trip and was due to return by this evening. If Wilbur can keep the squid fresh enough, he'll ask him for advice so they can have some tomorrow night. A stray cat has warily made her way towards him. No sudden movements, he remembers. Strays tend to be skittish (this one evidently no exception) and need patience shown to them if you wish to pet one. He slowly offers the cat a chunk of one of the fish. She loves it and it is clear she is requesting more. So he gives in to her incessant mewling. What he hadn't considered during this interaction was how quickly a stray could begin viewing you with affection if you gave them the time of day. Having hung around him while he fished, she inevitably follows him after he packs up to go home. At first, he'd chuckled in a 'ha look at this cat attach itself to me' way. Then she leapt into his little boat and it suddenly grew more serious. Uh, yeah, you might not want to go all the way home with him, little kitty, it'll be a hell of a hike home otherwise. She looks to him expectantly. Ha, okay I know I gave you some fish today but you can't have any more because I need some left to eat myself so it's best if you hop out of- Oh alright you're going to clamber onto my lap, huh? Fine, fine, I'll let you hang out at my house for a little while. Prepare yourself for Tommy though, that kid can be a fairly boisterous at times. Tommy is quicker to greet her than help his brother with the bloody shopping or today's catch. He fusses over her as if she was already their pet. "Oh nice, have we got ourselves a cat then?" "No, they're-" Yes. Yes, they were absolutely going to take in this stray, weren't they? God damn it. "They're going to need a name before we do that." The two of them bounce names off of each other. In the mix are the likes of Pumpkin, Carrot, Rose, Apricot and Amber. Wilbur jokingly suggests 'Basilina' in reference to something which unfortunately leaves Tommy's face blank. Whatever gets suggested, none of the options come across as the right one. "Why do people call orange red?" Tommy asks out of nowhere. "Oh, it's because you're never going to get an animal with fur that's actually red but orange is close enough so you get people saying orange fur is red. Something like that. It's the same way someone might look at a cat and call their fur blue when actually it's more grey with blue tones." "That's dumb." Tommy scoffs. "Hey, apples are red." "...They are, yes." "I want to call her Apple." "I thought you liked Pumpkin a minute ago." "She can be both." "Like a first name-last name kind of deal? Well... I think Appleby might be an actual surname that exists so what do you think about Pumpkin Appleby?" The small boy bursts into giggles. "That's the stupidest name I have ever heard." "Oh really? Well if you're so great at coming up with names on the fly, you do better." He teases. Tommy frowns with concentration as he deliberates on the perfect identity for this ginger cat who has wandered into their lives until he comes up with "Apple Pumpkinson." "Sure." He laughs. "Sure, we'll call her Apple Pumpkinson, I guess. As good a name as any." He crafts the name tag that very afternoon. With the cat clearly not interested in social interaction right now, Ghostbur leaps to the ground. A familiar animal comes into existence. Apple gets a fair amount of attention before complying with his offer of being carried. It's been so long since he had her against his chest. It feels good. "Come on, let's find Soulbur. I'm sure he'll want to meet you." --- There is a voice drifting in the wind from somewhere nearby. Close enough to hear, far enough to not be able to discern more details about its origins. He knows it is most likely Ghostbur trying to chat with him despite all his effort to evade his company. Forgive him for hardly having 'talking through our last interaction' on his hypothetical 'stuff I'd prefer to do today' list. But then again, it could not be. Someone could have somehow breached the boundaries of his private world. Is that possible? He... thinks so. To be fair, he can leave so there must be exploitable fault lines somewhere. Perhaps he should defend himself. Obviously, a threat to his safety can only go so far given that he can't permanently sustain injuries, let alone die again. And fuck knows he never gave much of a shit about physically protecting himself in those last several weeks of life. But look at him waste valuable time deliberating. Shit like that could easily get you killed. Whoever is approaching, they're getting closer. Maybe Ghostbur. Maybe someone who doesn't wish him well. Does he risk trusting the most likely option? Or does he risk coming across as a paranoid weirdo who overthinks the slightest things too often? He's in an open space with no-one else around, in a sectioned off part of the void that no-one visits. Ha, someone could take him out and Ghostbur likely wouldn't find him until tomorrow or whatever. But wants to believe this will have the best outcome as a result of heavily misinterpreting his senses. God, there he goes again, decreasing his chances of properly defending himself from a potential threat in time. Listen, it's probably Ghostbur so don't manifest a weapon, it's probably Ghostbur so don't manifest a weapon, it's probably Ghostbur so don't manifest a weapon. He draws a sword as he whips around. If the pursuer is far away, he has time to switch to something long range like a bow and arrow. Otherwise, he won't have the chance to correct what could be a fatal mistake. "Hi, Soulbur!" The smile drops in shock. "O-Oh." See? Just Ghostbur with Friend tagging along close behind. Honestly, who else would it be? "Ghostbur." Shoulders sag in what could be interpreted as relief or some sort of exhaustion. The sword drops from his loosened grip, vanishing as if it never existed in the first place. He makes no further comment when he notices there's a ginger cat in the ghost's arms. Not just any feline with orange fur either. There is no doubt in his mind who this is. He wants to be flooded with recollections of petting sessions, moments spent unable to leave the spot he was sitting due to a napping lump and times he'd laughed while getting yelled at. Yet no matter how hard he tries, only two associated memories reveal themselves to be prominent. The first revolves around sitting on the large bed, one arm occupied with Fundy while the other drew Tommy closer without causing his brother's hand to slip away from the fur it was emerged in. The other featured the sweltering heat of the Nether and knowing it was possibly the very last place he wished to be at that very moment. "Do you remember her?" "Y-Yeah, I think so." He attempts to crouch but, thanks to still coming down from hyperactive thoughts, he miscalculates his balance and ends up sitting within seconds. Allowed back on the ground, Apple cautiously approaches Soulbur's offered backhand. "Oh." He exhales. "Hi, Aps." His eyes can fuck off. There is no way in hell he's letting himself cry over something that happened years ago. Especially not with Ghostbur present. Instead he focuses on gently kneading the spots behind her ears. "I am so sorry. It's my fault for not monitoring you more closely." "I'm guessing she stayed with Phil after Tommy, Fundy and Alivebur left." "You think we would have left her at home? No, no, no. She's been gone for years. It was back when Fundy was tiny. Tommy was watching him while we made dinner but called us over for something. We could have sworn we covered those mushrooms but Tommy made it sound urgent and we..." Soulbur's gaze redirects itself with a soft sigh. She glances back at him. "Why the hell did you have to go snooping around and nibbling on things you're not supposed to, huh missy?" "I don't know why but Tommy got it into his head it would be cool if we buried her in the Nether. Pretty sure we were too emotionally drained to say anything other than 'fuck it, why not'. There was a warped forest not far from where the nearest portal landed us so we left her under one of the trees. Did you like that? I know it was a bit warmer than you'd expect it to be." 'Tell me more about her', he wants to say. 'I know I'll forget pretty much as soon as you finish but could you spare a story?', he nearly asks. 'Let's practise futility together', he is seconds away from offering. "Thank you." He instead says. "So... are we letting bygones be bygones then?" "Did something happen? I'm trying to think but nothing is coming up." "Uh, yeah." He frowns. "We-" Oh. Of fucking course. Stupid him for stressing about a potential confrontation between them where they'd need to discuss their argument. All this time and Ghostbur didn't even bloody recall any of it. Well done, Soulbur, for wasting your goddamn week. His only consolation was that at least several days meant nothing when compared to near-infinity. "Never mind. It wasn't important anyway." "I'm sorry if I did something bad. I'm really trying to remember." "Sure. Whatever. Doesn't matter so don't worry about it. Either way, I'm sorry too." All across their world, out of their view, every fungal species goes extinct in an instant. Mostly because he refuses to let history to repeat itself, partially because he needs to say fuck you to something. --- Ghostbur is delighted to see Soulbur when he makes a surprise visit. It's completely unexpected but somehow, it makes the interruption to his day all the better. His counterpart encourages him to follow along. Apparently, there is something Soulbur would like to show him. He asks after Apple as they travel. She's doing alright and is back at Soulbur's hideout. Across a hill is an entire valley of flowers, populated by a variety of colourful plants. There were daisies over there, a rainbow's worth of tulips scattered in most directions and oh look, patches of bare grass. Friend will love that. At the centre of the flowery ocean is a dark blue pool of the flower he's been struggling to find up until now. From the edge where they are standing, there is pleasant line of birch trees acting as a border. Looking further, he spots a lake of the other side. "This whole thing is yours." "Everything?" "Yep. Knock yourself out." "But why?" "Because I can?" He shrugs. "You got me Apple and I'm not such a huge twat that I wouldn't at least attempt to return the gesture." "Thank you!" Ghostbur throws his arms open, spontaneously moving towards the other half of Alivebur. The momentum doesn't lead to his body affectionately colliding with Soulbur's. Instead, it causes his hands to impact with the ground, the only things preventing his face from joining them. Glancing up, he catches wide eyes staring back at him and the twitch of an arm that, in another set of circumstances, might not have been 'corrected' before the command to complete the intended action was fulfilled. Then the sight vanishes as Soulbur's expression morphs into something more akin to a fed up frown. "Yeah, don't mention it. No need to make a big fuss. In fact, I think I'm done here. Just um... maybe you could set your base here. I don't think you ever got around to actually building a house, right? You could clear some wood from these trees and put it around about here." With that, he sets off. Like... he always does. Looking out over it once more, there is no doubt that this place really was gorgeous. He's grateful that Soulbur thought to make something like this for him, he truly is. However, he can't fully appreciate it because Soulbur always seemed to end up mad whenever Ghostbur was around. He's even materialised a pearl to make his escape faster. Oh, hang on, what if it's simply him that's the issue? You can't expect somebody to like everyone they know. Perhaps the solution is to provide him with more people to talk to. He'd only had Schlatt (their lifetime hatred had transferred over) and Mexican Dream (while their relationship was better, it was hardly like they were close, as far as Ghostbur could tell). Now that this line of thought has occurred to him, he could also benefit from speaking to expanding his social circle while here. He sighs. But first, he should find Friend. He's sure his loyal companion of a sheep will love the grassy parts of this gift as much as Ghostbur does. --- Tucked in the cliff face, Soulbur was perfectly content with spending time with his cat. He'd half forgotten how it felt to have weight pressing on the side of his face or across his chest, if he's going to be honest. He knows his company is not the most entertaining but he appreciates that Apple seems not to outwardly mind. One day he might actually fish or hunt again for her instead of simply causing her food to appear from thin air. He's sure she'll like that. Either way, all of this is to say that no, Ghostbur, he would rather not get dragged to your field for some activity you haven't even explained clearly. All he'd managed to surmise was that it entailed speaking to someone. Had Schlatt or Mexican Dream discovered a way to come here? He hopes not since this was supposed to his private piece of the void. Although, now he thought about it, he's pretty sure he's unintentionally missed the last couple times he and Mexican Dream had tried to schedule a Spanish lesson. Damn it. Yeah, Mexican Dream likely wasn't super pleased about being left hanging. Next card session, he'd apologise. Had someone they'd known died and found their way here somehow? No, he's sure Ghostbur would have mentioned their name by now if that had been the case. Even when they reach their destination, nothing gains any clarity. "Alright, we're here. What do you want from me?" "I was thinking about how we can make people show up because, well, I already made Apple appear. Anyway, it might be good for you to have more friends here because before me, you were very lonely." "I'm not... lonely." He huffs. "Besides, when it comes to a lot of our 'friends', we didn't part on the best of terms. Lots of uh, animosity, I suppose you could say." "Then you get that anger out. You're very good at that." Yep, that's him, the guy who was always angry. Not like anger or its cousin frustration weren't simply the easiest to settle into. He's played the asshole villain once before, he can keep doing it for the sake of maintaining his reputation. He supposes he should be glad that Ghostbur has never caught any moments where his face hadn't been as dry whenever the ghost has approached his cave. Or when he's recovering from a rough nap. So yeah, Mr Angry, that's who he is. But god is it tiring to maintain a single emotion. Must be great for Ghostbur to get a wider range. "So who do you want first?" Deliberation. Then a stubborn sigh. "Phil. I guess." Within a minute, a replica of Phil is standing before them. He's a pretty decent copy of the real man, although he swears those wings should be darker and he's certain Phil's missing the handful of grey hairs his 40s have provided him. Close enough though. Not to mention this is literally only an illusion. Anything Soulbur might want to say to him doesn't matter because Phil's not actually going to hear it. Neither of them can predict how he'll genuinely react to wherever a potential conversation may lead. He comments as much to Ghostbur who comes across as unfazed by this issue. Well, screw it, might as well get it out of the gate. "Kind of a shitty thing you did. And I know that we apparently asked for it but... you didn't have to actually do it." "Go on, don't hold back." The ghost encourages. "I mean, where the hell do you want me to start? Him killing us, the frequent trips away that turned into fucking off indefinitely, the fact I didn't feel like-?" "Not me, him." A groan. "Fine. You agreed to let Tommy stay so he should have been your responsibility more than mine. In my teens, I should have been more preoccupied with dumb things like wanting to have a bunch of friends or catching a girl's attention. Not deciding whether I needed to leave Tommy home alone so we could still eat because you weren't back from another sodding trip yet. You probably know by now but surprise! Fundy was never just some rapidly aging kid I seemed to always be babysitting. Not that you were ever there long enough to press me on that by that point. You know, I didn't realise being a parent had a time limit. By that logic, I should have told Fundy to get on with being an independent adult as soon as he turned 5. Maybe it's a good thing Tommy pretty much chose to live on his own at 16, god forbid I had to spend another 2 or so years frequently looking out for him. I might not have known what I was doing and honestly, could have done with some tips, but at least you already taught me what not to do. God knows why I bothered to offer you a chance to start over with those letters." "I'm sorry." The fake Phil says. "You don't get to choose if he'd actually apologise." "Isn't that what you want?" "It's what you want." Ghostbur's brow furrow with genuine confusion. "And you don't?" "You want some perfect world where things can be fixed with a single conversation so no, I don't want that. Not realisitic." "What do you want from him then?" He takes a long, scrutinising look at the imitation of his pseudo-father before him. Objectively, he is vaguely aware there were many moments of affection that grew sparser the older he got and the more often Phil would go adventuring with Technoblade. He was... loved and he used to love back. Or that is his best guess. He was becoming very close friends with Techno back when they were in their teens too. There's a reason he was never able to fully trust the piglin hybrid during their time in Pogtopia. It was Phil's fault for entrusting him with responsibilities always a little bit too early. But it was Techno's fault for not bringing it up despite the amount of times they left without the other two when Wilbur made it as blatantly clear as he could that he wasn't happy about it. He didn't always shut the door more firmly than he should whenever they bid farewell. And he is sure that, once upon a time, being surrounded by one of Phil's wings was among his favourite places to be. Not anymore. "Guess." He answers. --- It's a week after he talks to 'Phil' that Ghostbur suggests they try the exercise once more. Soulbur begrudgingly accepts. "Oh, I know. How about Tommy? He and I used to hang out. We even went on holiday together." "A holiday?" "Mhmm," Ghostbur nods enthusiastically. "Dream took us on a boat and I did my best not to touch the water even though I like teasing Phil by sticking my hand out when it rains." Faintly, from an intangible distance he can't perceive the length of, alarm bells toll. Dream wasn't the type of guy to randomly send a teenager and his brother's ghost on a holiday abroad. He wouldn't be surprised if there were ulterior motives at play. After all, Dream had practically enabled Wilbur with the TNT stock increase so... he doesn't know what to make of it. One way or another, something didn't add up. However, he is lacking in context and if it's as dubious as he suspects, Soulbur doubts Ghostbur can recall the necessary background intel to complete the full picture. Ghostbur seems like he has more to say on the matter in his ramble but Soulbur jumps in with "Doesn't rain burn you though?" "Well yes but when it's tiny like drizzle, it's all tingly instead. It only really hurts when I touch a lot of it." "Like for example... the ocean." "Yes." He giggles. "But I wasn't going to actually do it. It would have been fun if I could. Phil always makes this face when I try to touch rain. It's like when Alivebur used to sneak a few more berries in his mouth than he was supposed to or when he got his clothes wet by jumping into rivers." "Right. Anyway, let's get Tommy over with." 'Tommy' is, again, a good copy. His hair has grown out which Soulbur suspects may have been something that occurred in his absence. He's not used to this length since Tommy always kept his hair in a flux of 'short and kind of tidy' to 'too annoying and shit'. You know what? This length lowkey suits him. If Soulbur, or more to the point Wilbur, were still alive, he'd say so to the real Tommy's face. But instead, he supposes he has to vent for the sake of the activity. It takes a minute but he is able to think of something. "You shouldn't have acted as my right hand in exile. You did decently during the war and did your part to help with the election. But when it came to exile? You kept opposing the TNT idea but didn't really offer any potential alternative solutions to deal with L'Manburg instead. At one point I think you even came close to unintentionally helping Schlatt with his plans for the sake of a distraction. And shit, Tubbo might have ended up being a bit of a yes man but at least I knew not to fully trust his motives and actions. You were supposed to stick by my side or tell me to get fucked. You did both and neither. You might not be an adult yet but you're certainly not a little boy anymore. If you are going to take a stand, you can't just let yourself be a dissenting bystander. I might have even listened to you if you came up with a viable enough plan to rid our country of tyranny without destroying it for good. But well... too late for that now." Tommy appears dejected. Immediately, Soulbur really wishes his ghostly twin would stop giving these clones feelings when the point of all this was to do it without the actual person they represented knowing what his thoughts were. They would have to sort it out. --- The sun is warm in his field and it's nearly enough to negate the slight universal chill he's slowly begun growing accustomed to. With Soulbur laying near him, Friend grazing somewhere off in the distance and Apple enjoying the sun in the gap between the humans, it's a rare moment but lovely all the same. "Do you ever think about how it was supposed to be over, how we were supposed to be done with everything?" Soulbur speaks up. "No? What do you mean?" "I mean the button. We kept telling Tommy we wouldn't die in the explosion, that the people who'd die were those unfortunate enough to be in L'Man- Manberg when we set it aflame. Never us, no no no. Us, in our little button room? Nah, why would you ever think that? People lied to us, we lied to them back. Nobody's fucking trustworthy. Eret dumped potatoes on us like 'Oh we're the best of friends now and everything's all great between us'. Fuck off, if you think I'd let my guard down around you, especially you, you have another thing coming. Probably wanted to hurt Tommy and I again for the hell of it. And maybe we weren't that far gone by October, maybe we were being honest about not intending to die with our nation. But on the day, we fucked up. I don't know what it was, I think... I think it was the combination of Tubbo being targeted for supposedly having loyalty towards Pogtopia, Schlatt being a prick as usual and everything seeming to happen at once. Whatever happened, we freaked out and couldn't focus enough to realise we needed to take maybe like... five steps forward to find where the entrance to the room was hidden. So we lost our great chance and had to wait for the next one. All that time telling ourselves we just had to get to the 16th and then we'd get what we wanted, all of it for nothing. I suppose we should consider ourselves lucky that it was only an extra month to get worse. When we set a date for war, it gave us a target to aim for. So yeah, we got worse and threw ourself into making sure that this time we would not fail under any circumstance. Who cares about basic things like staying safe and healthy when we knew the when and where of our death? We were like... we were like those people that are terminally ill and their body just loses its appetite the sicker they get. Either way, we got what we wanted and then realised this wasn't what we expected it to be. Screw us for hoping to catch a fucking break, right?" Ghostbur begins questioning why exactly he was going on a rant like this but Soulbur barrels on regardless. "Whenever people speculate about what the afterlife is like, a lot of them imagine it as this great time where you reunite with those you knew who went before you. You all sit in a circle and hold hands and enjoy each other's company, forever. You do that shit forever. Seeing people you cared about sounds nice in theory but in practice? There's a reason you don't stay in the presence of even your favourite person ever 24/7. It's tiring. Fuck that, you know? I don't know whether humans were made to be social for eternity. It's like 'Oh hey Grandma, fancy seeing you here for the trillionth time since I died'. Not for me, thanks. Not for a bunch of people either, I'm sure of it." "You said it was January when you left?" "Yes." "And you're sure about that?" "Yes." "Well that's only two months. And trust me, I might not know how long I've been here but I know it's been far longer than two months. Which means, Ghostbur, which means that time moves faster here. I don't know how much faster, there's no way of working it out, but one thing is for sure, we're going to get more days here than down there. Because... because here's the thing, Ghostbur, here's the thing, it doesn't matter how hard you try to keep count of the days in little notebooks or whatever, because it will get to a point where you don't care if the index number- that's what the little number in the top right corner is called, right? Nobody cares if the number is 8 or 9 by the time you've been here long enough to be counting that high. Who cares if you've been here for 2 times 10 to the power of 6 or- or 5 times 10 to the power of 300 days? One way or another, you'll have been dead for a long, long time. By that point, who gives a shit. The main problem is that it seems the dead are stuck with a longer infinity than the living." "Sometimes- Okay, I'm only admitting this out loud because technically we're the same person and I mean, who are you going to tell, other than Schlatt or Mexican Dream- Friend might also count, I don't know... Same difference. But fuck it, you're not going to tell anyone who actively gives a shit about trying to play the bigger person with the intent of stopping me." He catches his breath. "Sometimes, Ghostbur, sometimes I wonder if I were to collapse this pretend world and leave myself with no protection from the Void, whether that would cause me to lose consciousness. Wouldn't that be interesting? Never having to regain consciousness, just... lights out and then a nap that lasts long enough to see the universe end. Death as it should be." He glances over at Soulbur silently. Speechlessly even because what on earth is he supposed to say after all that? His other half is thoughtfully playing with a poppy still connected to the ground. He is seemingly none the wiser to Ghostbur's lost gaze. "I guess these flowers aren't too bad. Shame I'll get incredibly bored of them eventually." "...I think you need some blue. Let me find you some from my collection." "Believe me, I don't think blue will help in the slightest." "Try it anyway. It helps me." "Well, infinite time to gather infinite resources... I doubt you wasting some on me will make a difference in the long run." He stumbles as he rises. Blue, just focus on making blue. He's laughter and encouragement and an open pair of comforting arms when necessary. He was not made to contemplate the universe or its mysteries. So he'll deliver blue to those who need it. Maybe he'll spare some blue for himself. But Soulbur first, definitely. --- The next week, amongst the suggestions he throws at Soulbur regarding who he should speak to this time, Niki's name gets mentioned. The more volatile half of Alivebur outright refuses to even consider it. His reasoning is that he has nothing to say to her, regardless of how much the real Niki likely has to say to him. Ghostbur doesn't get much of a chance to argue they could speak to Niki without having to criticize her. She appears in their void world either way when Soulbur is gone because who says he can't hang out with his friend? He provides all the ingredients. He lets her be in charge of grounding the wheat into flour since she is much better at it than him. Instead, he is in charge of slicing the apples into segments as equally as he can. The slices that won't go in the cake or on it as part of the decoration will become snacks for Friend. They work well as a team, chatting and laughing together as they prepare it all for baking. "Niki, Alivebur didn't do this often, did he?" "No but it's okay, he was a very busy man." "We should do this regularly. We can do that now." "Sure. It'll be fun." The end product is as delicious as it smells. They sample the result of their hard work, leaving a minimum of half to share with a certain someone. The cliff face never reeked of nicotine in life as far as he's aware. Then again, he has no memories of Alivebur ever considering touching a cigarette while living here. He doesn't expect to recall something like that in the first place but... he believes his point still stands. Apple Pumpkinson is probably lingering in the vicinity since he can't see her right now. He does, however, spot a figure with their knees tucked towards their chest and a glowing burning dot. There is a mix of sniffling and coughing coming from them as well. Part of Ghostbur plans to enquire whether that's simply the result of Soulbur's habit or an indication he isn't feeling great at the moment. Despite not truly wanting to, he decides to leave it. He doubts Soulbur would appreciate the intrusion. So he sticks to his original reason for coming here. "Niki and I baked a cake so here's your share of it. It's got a bunch of apples inside and on top. Don't tell anyone," He chuckles. "But I've already had a taste test. It's very, very good but I might be a little biased." Perhaps when he checks in tomorrow, the cake will have been undisturbed. More for him, he jokes internally. He does hope Soulbur will enjoy the gift though. So when he swings by again the next day to leave a new set of flowers (a bunch of oxeye daisies that were as lovely as they were cheery) and discovers there is no evidence of a baked product ever being delivered, Ghostbur is optimistically hopeful. It was a rather large portion which is why he expects Soulbur not have eaten it in one go. He comes to the conclusion it might be good if he does this more often. --- Having suggested people like Niki (nope, no thanks, he doesn't know if he could manage to look any version of her in the eye) and Eret (no chance in hell, for arguably the inverse reasons), Ghostbur has once again dragged him back to the flower field for one of the talks. It's Fundy this time, though he was incredibly reluctant to accept. There's no trace of war or any sort of strife for that matter on his son. He's in a t-shirt and an open black hoodie, slightly younger than he last recalls so perhaps in his late teens. It's dawningly apparent that this is the boy who was yet to sneak off to join his uncle on an adventure to find somewhere cool, far away. It won't do. Soulbur has things he wants to say but not to this kid who is probably only 17 or 18. The war veteran turned spy wearing a dark jacket with their familiar coloured stripes on the side of the partition appears as his replacement. That's better. "You went behind my back. You not only ran against me in the election, with one of my closest friends might I add, but then attempted to win by committing voter fraud. Not to mention you went on to basically side with Schlatt. I don't care if it was supposed to be a ruse. You still did things that benefitted his cause. I'm not going to go into the fucking flag because I don't feel like being here all day. I know full well showing you basic human decency doesn't mean you're in my debt. But the least you could have done was not turn your back on me the minute you decided you didn't need me anymore. Being in your early 20s doesn't mean you suddenly begin to know what the hell you're doing. I should know!" Ghostbur steps between them, arms thrown out wide. "Fundy is a good son. He's never done anything wrong." "Don't try to debate when you don't have all the evidence." "Well, you shouldn't either then." "Tell me, how great was your relationship as Ghostbur? Because I can't imagine he'd welcome the remnants of his dear old dad back with open arms after all the shit that had just gone down while we were exiled." "I visited him in his home. Phil was there sometimes too." He scoffs at the breezy nonchalance. "Bet that went well." He takes another look at his little boy, not quite as little as he once was, and that's all it takes for him to stop acting pissed off. Four months was a short amount of time for so much to happen to Wilbur. But, likewise, practically just as much happened to Fundy and the others once united under the flag of L'Manburg. Doesn't he know it. And that's exactly why he is positive he cannot stay here a minute longer. "You undoubtedly know where to find me." "Soulbur, wait! You don't have to go. We can-" "I'm tired, Ghostbur. I really don't want to keep doing this. Mostly because it's always been pointless but also, how many times do you want me to get purposefully upset at people we used to care about?" Dejectedly, Ghostbur's gaze diverts to the side as he mumbles out "Cliff or trees?" "Cliff, probably. Apple is there." There is a nod in response and that's all the cue he needs to get the hell out of here. "Do you want to stay up tonight?" He asks his cat. "I can feel it will most likely be a festival kind of thing if I close my eyes. A-And I really can't do that if... Fundy's so close to the front of my mind right now." Speaking of festivals, he thinks he knows who he should have a one sided chat with. But this time, he won't be the one doing the talking. --- He wasn't actually seeking out Soulbur this time. It's an accident that he catches the scene but he's glad to see Tubbo in front of him. It's great that Soulbur was in fact willing to give it a go after all. He felt like it might have slightly been an act, the whole reluctance and instances of hesitation to fully commit. He'll leave them be. If Soulbur wants to do this on his own, Ghostbur is hardly going to breach that privacy. Tubbo takes a breath and it goes downhill from there. "You got me killed. Twice. Your incompetence and neglect to see what was going on got us all killed. You should have realised sooner instead of helping to lead us down to a massacre. In fact, your leadership wasn't what won us the war. It was Tommy sacrificing one of his lives and then both his discs that won us our freedom. And when I trusted you to keep me safe while I risked so much to help you out, you let me die. You lied to me and told me Technoblade was on your side. Look how well that turned out. I was scared out of my mind. I thought you'd at least try to think of a way to help me. But no, you stayed on that roof. Even tried to use the chaos following my execution as a distraction while you ran to the fucking button. You know, it's a shame you destroyed L'Manburg because, even at only 16, I would have made a much bet-." Tubbo cuts off suddenly at the sound of sobbing. He'd tried his best to be silent, he really had. He's not sure why he didn't leave like he'd intended to once Tubbo began talking. Oh and there's Soulbur with that scowl on his face again. "The hell are you doing here, Ghostbur?" "Why are you making him say that? Tubbo wouldn't say that to us." Weary exasperation. "None of them are real, they're just manifestations for the sake of having something to focus on and visualise. What, you'd prefer I switch him to a more suitable individual?" Tubbo morphs into a tall man with unkempt brown hair, a trenchcoat and fingerless gloves. His face bears a matching scowl to Soulbur's one from a moment ago while displaying signs of neglecting basic care... the same sort that, again, Soulbur exhibited. Point made, the third Wilbur dissolves into the air. "You really think that Self Loathing Central is going to thrive positively in a mental capacity by saying things aloud? I'm not the one who needs to sort through his feelings when it comes to harsh truths, Ghostbur. The problem is you seem to be literally incapable of that, given your whole side of the amnesia. Can't help it, I know. But you don't know how- god, if only you knew how goddamn frustrating it is." "I'm sorry. I'm really trying." "Yeah. Me too." Soulbur spits back. The frown remains despite his sharp, conceding exhale. "I just struggle to imagine how we make up the same person sometimes." --- Ghostbur's typically calm, even sunny, demeanour changes to a frown. Okay... he questions whether he's gone too far, given that his counterpart's mood has now tipped into frustrated. Well, either way, he pissed people off in life and he's still continuing to piss them off (although now it's technically himself, in this scenario) in death. This isn't really anything new. Shit, he's even managed to push Ghostbur to a fleeting bout of frustrated anger once before. But this isn't fury, not yet. "Okay, why are you so mean? You are always angry or sad or- or bitter. It's like... what's the phrase? It's like talking to a brick wall. I don't like it." "You don't like a lot about me. Your point?" "My point is be more nice. I just want to get along." "So you can betray me again?" "I never betrayed you! I know Alivebur did a lot of bad th-" "Forget Alivebur." Soulbur spits. Okay, he supposes this is getting quite real now. Fuck knows where this will end up but who cares right now. "Never mind what wrong we did while alive. Right now this is about what you did. You specifically." "But we are the same person." "We are two halves of the same person, yes. Unequal halves at that. Which is your fault." "I never did anything." "Oh my god. Are you serious?!" He starts pacing slightly. Fingers make their way through his hair, stopping halfway, then join their respective arms in being thrown to the sky. He almost seems to be addressing the sun with his next words. "Do you hear that? Do you- do you bloody hear that? He never did anything wrong. Sweet, innocent, harmless Ghostbur is absolutely incapable of wrongdoing." Now whipping back to the ghost. "Why do you want to fuse? Be honest." "Well um, people need Alivebur back. I can't be him. So we need to-" "Go back down there? Yeah, sure, we planned to end up here after destroying L'Manburg but we'll just start living again as if the last few months of our life didn't happen. As if we didn't... Fuck." "But we can live again. Just different." "And that's the problem, isn't it, you being the one willing to live? You know what I want from a hypothetical fusion? To be whole. I want to have all our fucking memories in one spot, to remember what it was like to be goddamn happy. But no, can't risk that, especially now I'm sure you'll do the one thing I don't want you to." He can tell Ghostbur is attempting to formulate a counterpoint to this outburst. He doesn't allow him to. Besides, the ghost had been pushing him to vent at various 'friends' and, in Soulbur's opinion, there was one person who could do with targeting more than the others. Funnily enough, they were already standing right in front of him. "Do you know what it's like to be betrayed by someone you considered a friend?" No answer. "No? Well, I do. I know exactly what that's like because we thought Eret was loyal to L'Manburg's cause. If there were any red flags to be caught, we missed them all. People died. Kids died. In that room, I think we might have been one of the last to go, or at least lose consciousness. Being left to bleed out is bad enough. It's worse when you have enough time to realise how young the others were. We were left there with a couple of 16 years old, one of whom was our little brother we practically raised by ourself, and then our very own son. I'm sure you remember what it was like to watch Tommy and Fundy grow up though, don't you?" "Yeah." It leaves Ghostbur's mouth barely above the threshold for human hearing. "I don't, not really. But I do know we loved them. And I also remember seeing them stiller than we should have ever seen them. I'm not sure how exactly Tubbo died but there was certainly a ridiculous amount of blood around him. Fundy, I'm not too sure about either but Tommy, god Tommy. He was trying to escape Dream and fell, hit his head hard enough to die probably instantly. He was just- He was just lying there for a little while before his body registered it still had more lives and began the respawning process. And then the duel... that arrow hit him right in the chest and he simply stumbled back then dropped. More blood than I want to recall. You know what makes it worse? Those two deaths happened on the exact same day." "Do you know what it's like to watch all your friends leave you?" Again, no verbal response. This time though, there is a frown as Ghostbur recognises his twin was here to shame him. "No? Of course not. Listen, I admit that maybe I helped by refusing to fully trust anyone again but all they did was prove my point. You can't fault me for looking out for number one." "That sounds selfish." "It is not selfish to practise self preservation or wanting to make sure you don't repeat mistakes that had fatal consequences." "You're the reason everyone hated Alivebur." "We are both Wilbur. We are both responsible for everything he did or was. The only difference is that I am the one who remembers Pogtopia and you don't." "Why are you acting like it's my fault? I didn't do anything." "Because it is your fault, Ghostbur! You are literally the reason we split, the reason I've been stuck in this hellhole of a limbo with no decent memories to balance out the bad or even traumatic ones. You took that from me. You and only you. I thought I could rid the world of L'Manburg and everything that made it doomed to inevitably fail, myself included, then hopefully find some peace for the first time in who knows how long. But no. No, you had to decide you weren't as done with it all as I was. You took everything I wanted. You... you..." "You're being unfair. Who's to say you weren't the one who caused our split?" "Because I remember it. Unlike you, it seems." Soulbur's fury falters for a moment as this truth becomes apparent. This pause doesn't last long. "Oh, of course you wouldn't remember it. Why should I expect you to remember the most important moment of our post-death?! You are hopeless." "I'm not." Ghostbur's face is half covered in cornflower blue rivers flowing from his eyes. "You are. I would give anything to be whole again without needing to fuse with you. If I knew how to take those good memories back and leave you with as little as you left me, I think I would." "No, you're just lying to make me feel bad. Stop it. Just stop it." "Fucking make me." Ghostbur vigorously wipes his tears away, inevitably smearing the rich colour across his desaturated face. He's snivelling too as he pretends he's not in breaking down into whimpers. In another situation, if he saw Ghostbur like this, he would show sympathy. But at this very moment, with his wrath no longer kept at bay? He's almost inclined to call the sight before him pathetic. "You are a 24 year old man, stop acting like you're 4 and the world's ending because you scraped your knee." "Why are you acting like this?" "Because I want you to take responsibility for the misery you've forced me to endure! I've tried to keep a level head, god knows I have tried not to take it out on you too much, but I don't know how much longer I can keep this act up. You know, I keep seeing the people I cared about dead. If I think about L'Manburg for a few seconds too long, I end up watching the thing that was supposed to symbolise safety from back when I still had faith in it get destroyed over and over again. I can't stop thinking about how everyone turned their back on me, only to end up doing it to myself. For- for you to end up doing that to me." God damn it, why the hell can't his voice stay steady right now? "Do you understand how horrible that was? So grow up and show that you're sorry. Just saying it won't do. You have to prove it." Through the tears that had sprung from his own eyes, he can see the ghost has screwed his eyes shut tight with blocked ears. Oh, this was ridiculous. Soulbur grabs his counterpart's hands in an effort to pry them from the side of his head. "Stop acting like you can simply run from everything." There's more fuel to keep this fight going at his disposal but he doesn't get a chance to continue. Ghostbur tugs forcefully to free his hands. Unfortunately for both of them, it's too late. What's done is done. --- Wilbur wasn't used to having such a gathering. The only people who he could expect to be found in the house somewhere were Tommy and Phil. Technoblade too, as of his arrival in their lives a few months ago. He was technically in his early teens but Wilbur guesses piglin hybrids matured sooner than humans since he appeared to be approximately at the beginning of adulthood. Either way, the three people he lived under the same roof as weren't the only ones here today. He tended to hang out with his friends from the village instead of the other way around. It was far more convenient for him to make the short journey to them than all of them individually visiting him together. Yet here they all were, ready to celebrate today with him. And no, Tommy, he does not have a crush on any of the girls in the group. You even try to insinuate that in front of everyone today and you will find crumbs in the most annoying spots on your bed. Presents are exchanged while Phil dithers in the kitchen, awaiting his cue. He wouldn't say he had a bad go of it this year. He was definitely not expecting the newly forged diamond sword. These arrows are great as well. And oh, was that the cake Phil was bringing out? His arm comes too close to the cake as he goes to blow out the candles, eliciting a "Wil!" from his father. What the hell is he- oh shit. Fuck, his hoodie sleeve is on fire. Not good, not good at all. Shit, shit, shit. Stop staring at it. Do something, idiot. Uh... uh water. Kitchen. Dump it in the sink. Better dump it on the floor and stamp on that soggy piece of shit too for good measure. Remembering himself, he returns his attention to the others. "Um, I think the problem's solved." "You will be the death of me, you know that?" Phil takes a long exhale. There's also a laugh that sounds like someone coming down from stress. Which, he supposes, it is. "Just put it to the side somewhere and come have the cake. Preferably without setting yourself alight again." "Got it." Luckily for everyone, the rest of the cake section of the day goes off without a hitch. Wilbur animatedly chatters with his mates as they eat. He's not entirely sure how they end up at the topic of swimming. "Well, there's the river nearby. We should go there after this. Screw the 60 minute rule." Tommy's head perks up. "Can I come too?" "Obviously." "Guys..." Phil sighs. This weariness is met with a grin. "You only turn 16 once, Phil." Hand gripping his 8 year old brother's one, they sprint towards the water. Wilbur steps back a few paces once they get there so he can do a run up before entering the water in a cannonball position. Hair dripping, he encourages Tommy to do the same. His friends leap in at their own pace. One even pushes a mutual friend in, which only leads to a shriek that gets cut off abruptly then a string of words the youngest member of the party probably shouldn't be hearing. "Oi, Wil!" He turns to one of his friends, only to receive a faceful of water. "Happy birthday." "Oh, you fucker. Hey everyone, gang up on Mark." A war ensues that ends up with all of them getting their faces wet, some even have their heads dunked underwater. By the end of the day, there aren't enough towels to meet the demand. Either way, Wilbur's beaming, even as he deals with his soggy fringe in the middle of saying goodbye to all his guests. Pretty decent birthday, he'd say. --- It's not that Wilbur hasn't been freezing before, because he has, even outside of some dumb tundra. The main difference right now was that it was February and Phil had decided this was the perfect time of year to be in a place like this. He'd moaned and grumbled about it yet his father was having none of it. At least he'd been allowed his fair share of opportunities to pummel Phil with snowballs. There seemed to be an endless supply of ammunition here. Snow was also fun to run across sometimes. It was usually thick enough for him not to slip on the underlying ice too. So that's why, after getting temporarily distracted by a polar bear sighting, he dashes back to Phil's side without a second thought. There is less friction between his feet and the ground here. They really should have considered the ratio of ice to snow before any pounding transferral of body weight had been made. Neither he nor Phil had paid full attention to all of the increased risks until Wilbur was already in the water. He splutters. He kicks. He sinks and manages to drag himself back up again and again. And oh man, is it cold. Worse than cold. He wants to breathe, please let him stay upright long enough to catch a breath. His arms hurt too. They really, really do. It's like they're getting stabbed a bunch by icicles. Everything feels stabby like that, actually. He hates this. His mouth keeps getting hints of freezing salt too which is awful. Where's Phil? He's too busy trying not to bob down again to fully see. There's shouting though. "Wil! Wil, I swear to god, just calm down. Don't let the cold shock mess with you." 'Easy for you to say' is what he would bark back if he wasn't desperately trying his best to keep his head above the surface. "Wilbur, trust me, you're going to become a block of ice at the bottom if you keep reacting to the cold like that. Hang onto the edge and let yourself get used to the cold. That's it." He's still treading water a little too diligently when his body finally stops freaking out about the temperature so much. Phil will likely scold him for wasting energy like this. Not like he wasn't floundering in a panic a minute ago. Yeah no, Phil's totally going to have a go for that too. Wilbur was taught all this stuff when they got here. He should know exactly how to react in a situation like this. What if Phil hadn't been here? What would he do then, huh? Stupid, stupid, stupid. "Good, good. Now do your best to become horizontal." In the water, he forgets how to reposition his body. All his focus is on trying to move his legs accordingly and maintaining a secure enough grip on the ice. Glances towards Phil show that he's laying flat on his stomach as he instructs him. Something, something, surface area or spreading your body weight or whatever, right? When Wilbur has completed this next step, Phil slides a pickaxe over to him. Fumbling frozen fingers nearly allow it to slip under the water, out of reach. His co-ordination is practically non-existent right now but he still manages to position a tip of the pick into the ice. Dragging himself across to Phil is an arduous task but at least he's out of the water. They're on their stomachs until Phil feels absolutely sure they are not at risk of history repeating itself. After that point, he follows the man's lead by standing up with some help. He's barely on his feet when an external force is dragging his body in a direction he wasn't anticipating once more. Yet this time, he's in no real danger. It's just arms keeping him pressed against a heavy coat. Phil's shaking but not for the same reasons as him. "Christ sake, Wil. Try to be more careful next time. Otherwise I'll end up keeling over right here in the middle of nowhere." They reposition after a minute. Wilbur's hand is around Phil's waist while the winged man's grip secures itself to his son's left shoulder. Neither will drift far from each other like this. "You doing relatively alright, at least?" He hums briefly in response. Oh wow, that does not feel good. Vibrations are getting temporarily banned from his throat thanks. "Okay, let's get a move on then." "Okay. Ki- Kinda tired." Nope, nope, nope. "Can't- can't t-talk." He mumbles as they begin walking. "Shiv- shiverin' n' naus- naus-" "Nausea? Shivering and talking makes you feel nauseous?" The overwhelming tremors cause him to nod his head rapidly which is probably the most counterintuitive side effect he's ever experienced. Phil softly chuckles while drawing him in even closer with his arm. "Well, don't talk then, Wil. We'll sort out the shivering soon. After that, you can collapse in a heap on your bedding if you want." "Warn- warning. Just in... case." It's a struggle but he can't not communicate things that may be of importance. "Alright, alright. Thanks for the thought but you really should go easy on yourself, okay? It's not that far." Phil gets the fire going as soon as they return to their base. Wilbur simply sits there, desperately hoping his brain will stop sending signals to his throat and stomach to potentially prepare for a collaboration. His soaked clothes are stripped from him and replaced with blessedly dry ones. Any available blankets are piled on him for good measure. The past hour or so finally registers in full as Phil helps rub his arms through the layers in an effort to warm him up. "Pretty scary, wasn't it?" His father comments in response to the sudden bout of sobbing. "Try not to fall into anymore frozen water next time, alright? Don't think my heart could take another shock like that." "Do m'best." "Good lad." Phil smiles. "That's all I ask." He wipes a scalding tear off the boy's cheek as it comes cascading down. He'll sit with him and help discard of more tears hours from now when Wilbur wakes from visions of unending water or his mind fools him into believing he is caught in trembles that refuse to cease. And when it comes, Phil's decision to leave the tundra couldn't have brought more relief to Wilbur. --- It was odd. Soulbur had retained the part with the fire. He recalled the heat, the instinctual panic he felt upon realising he was in danger. He'd been able to somewhat be aware of when it had happened, that that disastrous moment had occurred during his 16th birthday. Although, that had been the extent of it. There were no birthday cakes or messing around in the water or well meaning banter amongst those he considered friends. He had even been oblivious to the identities of anyone who may have been present. When your safety and wellbeing are jeopardised, the last thing you're concentrating on is useless information like whether or not your father is standing beside you. So this was the kind of moments Ghostbur had hoarded for himself, was it? It feels so good. It's been too long since the last time he laughed. For a second, he can almost recall the feeling of drawing his stomach in as fuels for giggles and the pull of muscles as the corner of lips spread upwards. He waits for the inevitable withdrawal of it from his reach. His brain will go against him by discarding of the anomaly it just registered. Any second now. Maybe? ...No? Clearly, not enough time has elapsed. There is no point in getting his hopes up like an idiot. Except, he wants to. He desperately wishes this is not a fluke due to be rectified the moment he lets his guard down. It... isn't, apparently. And for the first time since he'd been abandoned in death, Soulbur kept a pleasant memory. It's not enough, a greedy part of him decides. No, he thinks Ghostbur needs to learn how to share. Surely there is more stored in the ghost's head than he needs. He won't miss a few more. Besides, why should that traitorous bastard get all the good stuff? Not to mention, they were as much his memories as they were Ghostbur's. They should have equal rights to them. All that seems to be required is a brief bit of skin contact. So that's what he'll do. Soulbur doesn't believe he has ever been the type of person to be all touchy-feely, not that he's particularly had the opportunity to prove otherwise, but for the sake of a few memories? Well, what's an occasional hand on the shoulder or pat on the back in the general scheme of things?

#dream smp #my writing #twobur au #tw suicidal ideation #tw drowning #tw parental neglect #tw animal death

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dukeofonions · 5 years ago

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Reaction Redux (I know it doesn’t make sense but it sounds cool)

Alright, here is my initial reaction to Putting Others First: Selfishness vs Selflessness Redux.

It’s finally here, I’ve watched it a total of two times and currently have it on in the background as I type this, and I have a lot of feelings. All of which would be too much for one post, so after I do this I’ll be making a few separate posts addressing certain points I’d like to expand on further.

So what I’m going to do is have the video playing as I write this out, that way I don’t miss out anything I wanted to discuss. Basically it’s not gonna be a full on analysis, just a lot of random ramblings with what I hope are some insightful gems sprinkled throughout. Consider these my notes for all my future serious analysis posts.

Good? Great. Let’s go. (Also spoilers under the cut)

So, how did I feel as I watched the video for the first time? Well considering I got the notification for the video while I was still at work, I couldn’t get as excited as I wanted to be about it because I didn’t get off until 8pm and had to deal with one too many dunderheads so I was pretty grumpy once I got off.

However, as soon as I got home and retreated to the safety of my isolation fortress (aka my bedroom) I was finally able to get excited as I got on my laptop and pulled up the video and let me just say I was a mess the entire time. I missed my boys!!! I knew they wouldn’t all be present, but I still missed my boys!!! And I loved seeing them again!!!

First things first, that song at the beginning! I think it’s called Review Redux (correct me if I’m wrong) it’s such a freaking bop and I wish it was longer because I could listen to it all day. I loved the artwork and little details that went into their characters, and how each of the circles represented who was singing/talking by their colors. Fun stuff and a great way to recap everything! As well as foreshadow things to come within the episode… “If our goals aligned with his what would that say?” Roman you’re in for a rude awakening bud…

Also, the little moment near the beginning where Patton is about to shut Thomas’ negative thinking down, but stops himself and allows Thomas to explain why he feels that way. Showing that he’s learned to ease up just a little since he learned to do so in Dealing With Intrusive Thoughts. Good for you Patton.

Speaking of Patton, oh he is so confused. I understand where he’s coming from, and honestly everything he said are things I have been taught growing up, and this is something I’ll address in another post because I have a lot of things to say about it. But just know that I adore the development Patton has been going through and watching him grow and mature.

Oh yes, I must mention I was pleasantly surprised to see Logan. I didn’t think he’d show up in this episode, or at the very least have a brief appearance, but I love how he took part and by far the funniest part in this episode (to me) is when he had so much to say in one little post that it popped up and hit Patton in the nose. It was one of the few moments where I laughed out loud and I rewound it a few times on my first viewing.

Plus Thomas being more concerned about the blinds than Patton. My type of humor. And Roman actually gets to use his sword for once, good for him!

(Funny enough as I typed this the video got to that part at the exact same time so I got a nice little laugh again)

Which brings up my next point: Logan getting yoinked after Patton skips his dialogue. No one talks about how he does his little impression of that philosopher, am I the only one who found that utterly adorable?

Let Logan geek out over philosophers please. He clearly loves it so much.

Then we get to Roman believing he’s the one responsible for everything, wanting to give up the driver’s seat to Patton. And just… This exchange of dialogue:

Thomas: “Roman, I only mean well when I say…” Thomas: “That that is the stupidest thing you have ever said.” Roman: “Oh Thomas, you’re just blowing smoke.”

I don’t know why I enjoy this so much but I do. Give me more of this. I crave it now.

And I just need to make a whole post about Patton in this video, there is so much to unpack with him alone.

Looking back and noticing that Thomas only starts listening to Logan after he’s been replaced by Deceit kinda hurts.

Speaking of which, can we appreciate how much better Deceit has gotten at impersonating Logan? Looks like he took Roman’s advice and focused on the little things. Good for him.

Alright, one of my absolute favorite parts from this episode and where things really start to shine: Patton freaks out and turns into a giant frog because he’s so desperate to have an answer for them he flips and honestly, sounds a little crazy. Which, I don’t know why but I find it both menacing and hilarious at the same time?

Also the fact he turns into a frog because he was talking about Frogger earlier, nice touch! (And Lilypadton that’s so cute)

Then we get probably the single greatest character entrance in the history of character entrances. We find out that Deceit finally reveals himself and steps in to stand up to Patton and get him to see how his actions have been having a negative effect on Thomas.

The way his voice changes from Logan’s to his own, his music kicking in, “The Lord of the Lies” oh my gosh it’s all just perfect! Also Roman’s “Reptilian Rapscallion! Reptilian Rapscallion! We’ve got a code yellow!”

And if I may: Roman: “What have you done with Logan?!” Deceit: “Nothing at all and I resent the question.”

WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM YOU SNEK?!

(in all honest probably nothing but what if)

Important to note here that Roman instantly begins defending Patton from Deceit as soon as he accuses him of misleading Thomas. This goes to show just how much Roman views him as a villain. Or in other words: Patton, good. Deceit, bad. A viewpoint he continues to hold onto until the end of the episode, which also deserves it’s entire post because we all know how much turbulence that caused within the fandom.

And to the observant eye, you’ll notice that the cane (or staff) Deceit uses is the same one that dragged Logan off screen.

Frog puns. That is all.

I just, I love Deceit’s dialogue throughout this scene. It’s stuff I need to hear and tell myself on a regular basis. And I’d honestly rewatch this part (along with the rest of what Deceit and Logan say later on in the video) because it’s all something I need to also teach myself. But this ain’t meant to be a personal post so I’ll just move on.

Deceit’s walk towards the camera. I don’t know why. It’s so smooth. He’s amazing. I love him. Snek…

I have problems don’t @ me.

Also no one is mentioning the reference to that one “Turn based rpg” short that Thomas made with his friends and I find that sad because it’s a neat and fitting reference given the theme of this video. Also earlier on when the trolley problem is first brought up all the people on the bottom track are Thomas’ friends. Another neat little detail, though sadly, their digital selves perished.

PETER SINGER

Logan doesn’t seem to like Deceit much, not outright hate him or anything, but it’s more like he just tolerates him but doesn’t seek to get on good terms with him. Which is a shame because as both parts of SVS have proven, these two have the capacity to work together. Which is why I hope Logan gets a debate episode with him as well because out of all the Sides, these two have interacted the least and that needs to be remedied (especially when they’re my two favorites)

Deceit is trying to make Roman understand, but he’s so caught up in this black and white thinking that he disregards everything Deceit says! Why? Because the last time he tried to hear Deceit out he was reprimanded. (In other words, I relate to Roman so much in this that it hits a little too close to home and I’m definitely making a separate post about this.

Deceit: *confused* Trees? And I’m so glad I found out I’m not the only dunce who thought Deceit’s name was going to be written on his hand…

But seriously this whole moment, with the buildup, Deceit’s reluctance to share his name, the music, I’d put it up there with Virgil’s “I was one of them” for best Sanders Sides scenes.

Also, Deceit’s name is Janus! I was a little iffy about it at first, but since I didn’t ever really have a prediction for his name, I wasn’t disappointed and the name is growing on me.

And then, the moment of trust is immediately ruined by Roman laughing. Dude, come on. (again though, post for another time because I understand where Roman is coming from here)

In all seriousness though I just love the last bits of this episode. The emotion, the angst, it doesn’t hold back and I appreciate the team taking things a step further than normal. Usually, moments like this are followed up by a joke to play it off, but they don’t do that after Roman sinks out. They stay in the moment until it’s had time to sink in. I wish the episode had ended a little more somberly, but I think this is a good step in the right direction. Showing that there won’t always be a 100% happy conclusion to things. Sometimes you need to take time in between to figure things out.

This line: “Do you think there’s a limit to how many times someone can say sorry before you have to admit that they’re just bad for you?” This line is so important to me within the context of the episode and outside of it. I won’t get too personal but I will say that I was raised to believe that if a person wronged me in any way, that if they said sorry, I had to forgive them. Even if they did the same thing over and over and over again. As long as they apologize, you have to forgive them and move on. And that has messed me up in so many different ways, especially when those people are family.

Janus sums it up best with “It depends” because yes, some people make the same mistakes again and again. But there’s a difference between someone trying to change and accidentally falling back on old habits, and someone taking advantage of your “forgiveness” that they continue to do those hurtful things because they know they can get away with it and not have to change.

Also, while it’s totally fine for people to dislike Patton, I can’t understand how anyone could watch this episode and claim that he’s still the same as he was at the beginning of SVS Part One because he has changed. He has finally realized just how much he’s been hurting Thomas, and even Roman. He sinks out at the end to apologize to him, he recognizes his faults, and he’s seeking to make amends. He wants to do the right thing here, and keep in mind that recently a lot of his views (which are also Thomas’ views) have been flipped on their heads and they both need to rethink some things. It’s part of growing up and becoming your own person.

I need to make a whole post about the more personal things that I got from the last three episodes (excluding Asides) because there’s just so many important things these episodes teach and I feel the need to address them.

Also everyone sleeping on the fact that Leslie Odom Jr. just casually makes an appearance and attempts to start a pilot episode for his own series “Odom Sides” which I wish him luck on. He just wants to be in the room where it happens.

Everything Patton did was for Thomas, so he wouldn’t be left in the dark again. He promised to keep fighting but ultimately, ended up fighting himself. Am I deep yet?

“Those imperfections don’t make you any less worthy of love” can you tell how much this episode means to me yet?

Janus’ “I’ll take care of him.” Ack, he just cares so much… My gosh… Where did this character come from and what did he do with the slimy boi? (I mean that in two different ways)

Oh, there he is. That’s my boi.

“There are smarter ways to get people to do what you want anyway.” “There are much less barbaric, much more fun, forms of sabotage.”

Parallels? Maybe? What the heck I love Janus whether he’s encouraging Thomas to look after his mental health or plot his schemes in the shadows. Do I trust Janus? Oh heck no, of course not. There is something suspicious going on here and I both love it and hate it. More on that in a different post though.

“You’re not stuck with an evil snake boi. You’re just stuck with a snek boi.”

Yes Thomas, continue to overthink every little issue until it results in a mental breakdown. Hm, sounds like what someone with anxiety does… I suppose that’s why this series exists.

Okay call me a bad person but I almost always space out during Thomas’ messages to the viewers at the end of the videos. I don’t know why but I cannot focus on them to save my life and usually end up skipping past them to get to the end card. I dunno, maybe because it takes me out of the moment? Especially during episodes where they don't’ address the audience at all and then suddenly “Oh yeah! This is a Youtube series lol” it just feels out of place in more story driven episodes like this one.

Okay am I the only one that’s kinda creeped out by Lee and Mary Lee? I dunno they just seem, off. Like if they were characters in a horror movie they’d be that overly nice couple that turn out to be the killers. Those are the vibes they give me. Maybe it’s because I have zero people skills due to being homeschooled all my life and the only social interaction I get is with coworkers so I dunno. They still creep me out. They creep me out more than Remus. And he legit freaked me out for a bit before he stole my heart. (I suppose this means I need to make a separate post about these two because I do have some opinions about whether or not it was a good idea to actually include them at the end. When I said I had too many thoughts about this episode I meant it)

And if the end card is any indication, I’m going to assume that the Sides are invisible to everyone except Thomas. Unless they’re just “observing” and not even Thomas can see them at this point, given he shows no indication of seeing or hearing them there. Maybe they get to choose when they’re visible? Or Thomas does? I dunno, the rules of this universe have never been clearly stated and are inconsistent.

I didn’t expect Patton to be the first to accept Janus, and I’m kinda glad I was proven wrong. It does seem fitting with Patton’s growth and I liked their little moment at the end.

And that wraps up my commentary. I hope you found something in this mess of, things. I plan to go more in depth with my separate posts which I’m going to have fun writing, so be on the lookout for those!

Also at the time of writing this I now have 63 followers?! Thank y’all so much! I never thought this blog would get this far and I’m so glad it did because I’m having a lot of fun with it and hope to bring out more content regularly! Again, thank you!!

#sanders sides #ts spoilers #sanders sides spoilers

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 5 years ago

Text

Love Isn’t Always On Time Part Thirteen

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

Notes: Sorry this took so long, I have been sick! Not beta-read. Summary: Accompanying Steve on this mission had to be the stupidest thing I’d done in my time in the past. I’d been out of action for so long, I was worried I’d lost some nerve.

Warnings: Some cursing; violence.

Rating: T (this may change)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

“Have you ever handled a weapon?” Peggy asked. Though yelled over the roar of the engine, it was calm, matter of fact. There wasn’t any judgement in her tone, like there had been from Stark, and would’ve been from Colonel Phillips.

“Yes,” I said honestly. I could feel Steve’s eyes on me, but I focused more on the piece Peggy handed me. Peggy glanced between me and Steve before she turned back to the map she’d brought on the plane with her, flipping it around to show us.

“The HYDRA camp is in Krausberg, tucked between these two mountain ranges. It’s a factory of some kind.”

“We should be able to drop you right on the doorstep,“ Howard called back to us. Peggy excused herself, getting up to speak with Howard. I recognized the make and model of the gun Peggy had handed me: a Browning Hi Power. I’d only handled one once before, but I know the feel well enough. I leaned back, huffing out a breath and looking out one of the small plane windows. Steve was still staring at me. “You should stay on the plane,” He said. My head whipped around to stare at him. “No. No, I’m not going back with them.” “I don’t know what we’re gonna be walking into.” “All the more reason for you to have backup on the ground. You’re not going to talk me out of this.” His mouth twisted into a stern frown. “When have you handled a weapon before?”

I looked away from him, shaking my head as I tucked the gun into the back waistband of my pants. “There’s a lot that you don’t know about me, Steve.”

Peggy returned, passing the both of us our parachutes. I pulled mine on, buckling it up. Steve glanced up at her before peering forward, looking at Howard. “You know, you two are gonna be in a lot of trouble at the lab,” He said. “And you two won’t?” Peggy retorted. I tuned them out, looking back outside. Accompanying Steve on this mission had to be the stupidest thing I’d done in my time in the past. I’d been out of action for so long, I was worried I’d lost some nerve. My head snapped up as the plane was rocked by enemy fire. I saw Steve stand and head for the door of the plane. I turned to get one look at Peggy and Howard, in case it was my last. Peggy offered me a reassuring smile and I nodded back before jumping out of the plane after Steve. I could hear the wind rushing past my ears, the blast of detonations all around us. I got flashes of Steve’s parachute illuminated by the explosions as we sailed toward the treetops. I took a deep breath, bracing myself for impact.

—

Steve and I trudged through the forest, eyeing the fence outside the Krausberg camp. The front of the facility was gated; a sloth-like search light lighting up the opposite side of the fence. I turned my head at the sound of trucks before I reached out, gently pulling Steve to crouch beside me behind a tree. A line of vehicles were headed for the camp gates. I glanced over at Steve. “You thinking what I’m thinking?” I murmured. He nodded. “Let’s go.” Steve took hold of my hand, gripping my hand. We ran for the last truck in the procession, leaping through the canvas-covered back and sagging back against the inside… Only to be met by two Hydra officers. “Great,” I commented. “Fellas,” Steve greeted, looking between them. The Hydra officers lunged at us and Steve and I; we met them in the middle. Steve lifted one by the shirt, slamming him into the top of the vehicle. I leaned out of the way of the soldier’s punch, catching him by the arm and whirling us around. It only took one well-aimed kick to his chest to send him hurling out of the vehicle; Steve’s was thrown out not far behind. I crouched down, inspecting the contents of the truck. “What is it?” Steve asked. “Munitions, mostly,” I said. I wobbled as the truck reversed slowly. Steve took my hand, pulling me to crouch behind him as he brought his shield up to hide both of us. Once the docking agent was dispatched, we climbed out of the truck. We were quiet, moving as one was we crept through the grounds. I could feel my heart pounding as I climbed atop a tank ahead of Steve, sprinting along the roof and praying wee wouldn’t be seen.

The guards were dispatched between us; I knew I had a limited amount of ammo, to be used in the worst case scenario. The sound of gunfire would surely draw the attention of other soldiers. “What is that?” Steve murmured. I looked around as he stepped out from behind our cover. There were a number of glowing devices on the table. “I don’t know,” I said, following him out when the coast was clear. Steve glanced around before taking one, tucking it into his pocket. “Maybe Stark’ll have an idea. Come on.” —

“Who are you?” The soldiers we’d found were in considerably better condition than I expected. “I’m… Captain America,” Steve said, unsure of himself. I snorted, unhooking the guard’s keys from his best and straightening. We unlocked the cells, looking for Bucky and doing our best to hush the murmur of confused voices around us. “You see ‘im?” Steve asked. I shook my head, turning back to him. My stomach twisted with concern, but I did my best to force it down. Surely my involvement couldn’t have led to this— Bucky had to be here somewhere. “We’re looking for a Sergeant James Barnes,” Steve said, turning back to the others. “There’s an isolation ward in the factory, but no one’s ever come back from it,” a Brit spoke up. I nodded. “First time for everything, right?”

—

The desertion in the halls was eery— like stumbling across an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere. My overwhelming feeling that I shouldn’t be there was overpowered only by faith in Steve, and our need to get Bucky out. Steve was far ahead of me, but I stopped beside a hallway, hearing a man groaning not too far off. “Steve,” I hissed, waving him back. He followed me, and we rounded the corner into an examination room. I could her him before I could see him: a tired urge of a mumble: “Sergeant... 32557.” Steve and I rounded either side of the examination table. “Bucky,” Steve breathed out. I shook my head, working at the straps holding his wrists as Steve ripped off the ones that had pinned his legs. Bucky looked between us, stunned for a moment, like we were ghosts, until I rested my hand on his cheek. “Is— Is that—?” “It’s us,” I said softly, “It’s me and Steve.” “Come on,” Steve urged. We each took an arm, helping Bucky up. “Thought you were dead,” Steve sighed, relief in his tone. Bucky blinked dazedly for a moment, “Thought you were smaller.”

I wrapped my arm around Bucky’s middle. “We’ve gotta go.” Steve’s eyes were caught on something in the corner of the room, something I couldn’t see. “Steve, now,” I said firmly as the sound of gunfire outside grew louder and more rapid. He nodded, looping his arm around Bucky before the three of us headed out of the room.

— The factory below us was descending into chaos. There was no way we could escape through the entrances we’d used; the only way to go was up. Steve led the way and I brought up the rear, not wanting to lose track of Bucky in the chaos. “There,” Steve pointed out as we reached the next level— there was a bridge to cross. But there were people on the other side. “Captain America!” A mocking voice with a German accent rang out across the deck, and we slowed our pace. My hand moved to the gun in my waistband, keeping Bucky behind me. “How exciting! I am a great fan of your films,” The man went on, moving closer to the crossing. “Films?” I heard Bucky mumble behind me. “Steve, don’t,” I hissed as Steve stepped onto the bridge with the German. “So, Dr. Erskine managed it after all.” My blood ran cold. Of course. This was Doctor Johann Schmidt. “Not exactly an improvement, but still impressive,” Schmidt went on. Steve punched him, sending him stumbling back roughly. “You got no idea,” Steve said coldly. Schmidt straightened up, and Steve brought his shield up just in time to block the oncoming punch. “Haven’t I?” Steve reached for his gun, but not fast enough. It skittered over the side of the walkway as Schmidt advanced. Steve kicked him square in the chest, sending Schmidt flying back. A man on the other side of the walkway pulled a level, causing the walkway to retract, and leaving a chasm between us and our only escape. I reached out, gripping Steve’s jacket as if he’d make a run for it if I didn’t hold on. “No matter what lies Erskine told you, you see I was his greatest success!” Schmidt yelled from the other side. My jaw dropped as Schmidt peeled a mask off, revealing a red skull. “Holy…” I breathed. “You don’t have one of those, do you?” Bucky asked. “You are deluded, Captain. You pretend to be a simple soldier, but in reality you are just afraid to admit that we have left humanity behind. Unlike you, I embrace it proudly. Without fear!” “Then how come you’re running?” Steve yelled back. I turned my head to look at him, unable to help the fond smile that spread across my face, though it was at an entirely inappropriate time. No matter what, he was still that kid from Brooklyn. I shielded my face from another blast, this one closer than the others before it. “Now what?” I asked, looking around. Steve spotted a catwalk and nodded to it before he gripped Bucky’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go!” I stared at the catwalk with trepidation, my stomach churning.

Everyone, when they’re a kid, walks along low walls or curb edges, one foot in front of the other, arms out for balance. I’d never been able to get more than a few steps in before I’d tumble down and hit the pavement. Mine was a childhood of wobbly legs and skinned knees. This was not a low wall. This was a metal catwalk at least a hundred feet in the air over an imploding factory. “Oh, god the floor is lava,” I mumbled shakily. “What?” Bucky asked, frowning and turning to look at me. I shook my head. “Nothing,” I squeaked. “You first,” Steve urged. I whipped my head around to look at him. “W-What? No. No no, Bucky first—“ “You first,” Bucky agreed. I turned to look between them, jaw clenching. We didn’t have time to argue. I turned back to the catwalk, taking a shaky breath. I held tightly to the guard rail as I stepped over, setting both feet down on the walk. I had to side-step it. I could not look down. I couldn’t focus on the explosions around me, on Bucky and Steve behind me. All I could focus on was the other side. I faltered at the midway point, arms windmilling to keep my balance as the walk shook. I managed to run the last few feet and steady myself on the side rail before I turned back to Bucky. “Come on!” I yelled, eyeing the chaos below us. Bucky, while nervous, was more sure-footed than I had been, taking steady, even steps. The gantry’s mooring faltered, and my stomach clenched as Bucky edged closer. He, too, ran the last few yards, jumping and clinging to the railing as the gantry collapsed, falling below. I pulled Bucky up and over the railing, staring back at Steve. I looked around the catwalk. “What are you doing, go!” Steve yelled. “There’s gotta be a rope or something!” Bucky yelled back. “Just go, get out of here!” Steve yelled. “No!” I snapped as Bucky yelled, “Not without you!” Steve looked around for a moment before he eyed the space between us. Bucky and I watched as he backed up. “Is he gonna…?” Bucky asked. “Son of a bitch,” I groaned, gripping Bucky’s arm and tugging him to the side to clear a runway for Steve. I saw him run, and leap. There was an explosion below and I lost sight of him for a moment before he landed with a ‘thud’ against the railing. I straightened, grabbing his shoulder and helping him over to our side. “Holy shit—“ Bucky gripped Steve’s arm.

“We have to go, we have to go now,” I urged, leading the way down the steps. — The other soldiers cheered when we reached the tree line. “We thought you were a goner, Cap,” one laughed, clapping Steve’s arm. “So did we,” Bucky grumbled. I gave him a light squeeze. “Can’t relax yet. We’ve got a long walk ahead of us.” Bucky and I joined Steve at the front, leading the others back to base camp. Steve and I filled Bucky in on what we could on our way: the experiment, the tours, the films. He took in what he could, but I could see there were still a few hang-ups. He was troubled. I pushed my worry down for the time being— there was nothing that we could do in the middle of the forrest in the middle of the night, with the possibility of being ambushed. We walked though the night and into the day, out of Hydra territory and back to camp. We flooded in with the rest of the 107th, afforded a hero’s welcome as we came in. Phillips and Peggy met us in the middle of the action. Phillips was hard to read, but Peggy looked elated. Steve gave the Colonel of stiff salute. “Some of these men need medical attention.” He paused, then, “I’d like to surrender myself for disciplinary action.” Phillips didn’t answer for a moment. “That won’t be necessary.” “Yes sir.”

Phillips stepped away, and I watched him go before I glanced over to see Peggy approaching us.

“You’re late,” She said, looking between myself and Steve. Steve reached into his jacket, pulling out his broken radio out. “Couldn’t call my ride.” I snorted, shaking my head. “Maybe I ought to give you the radio next time,” Peggy added, turning to me. I nodded smiling. “I think that would be best.” I reached into my waistband, pulling the gun out and making to hand it back, but she waved me off. “Keep it. You may need it.” I nodded my gratitude, tucking it back. “Thank you, Agent Carter.” “Hey!” Steve and I turned as Bucky yelled. “Let’s hear it for Captain America!”

The soldiers around us erupted into applause. I looked around as some reached out to patted Steve shoulder. Steve smiled at Bucky, who smiled back at him. But I saw, as Steve looked away, Bucky’s smile drop. His lips flattened into an uneasy line, and his eyes darkened.

I knew Bucky well enough. This was the look he got when he saw Steve hurt badly, or didn’t know where the other had gotten off to after running his mouth off. This was fear. Tag list: @gloryevans @redryderdesigns @winter-scolder @aactuaaltraash @secretagentben @staplerrrr@moli1497@adayinmymeadow @allonszassbutt @mannls @witch-of-letters

#Love Isn't Always on Time #stucky #stucky x reader #stucky x you #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #steve rogers x bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you

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24hour-blues · 4 years ago

Note

all the ones you haven't answered yet? i'm sorry you're sad💙

thank you, that's very sweet. i hope you're doing alright 💛

1. when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? - more milk. i always end up putting too much.

2. do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? - yes

3. what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? - library receipts, post-its, junk mail, pencils

5. are you self-conscious of your smile? - i think it’s one of the few things i’m not self-conscious about, actually. i like my smile.

8. what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? - writing, often poetry but sometimes prose. i like creating playlists, too, and singing.

9. do you like singing/humming to yourself? - yeah, i sing to myself all the time. whatever song i have stuck in my head at the moment.

10. do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? - side, but very occasionally my stomach.

12. what’s your favorite planet? - jupiter

14. if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? - lots of pillows and blankets of all types. succulents and cacti on the windowsills. wooden utensils and dark cabinets in the kitchen. a breakfast bar with stools that don’t match. rugs with funky patterns. a big, soft couch in a bright color that you can sink into. a small balcony with fold-out chairs. rows of mugs and barely any plates. the bathroom crowded with makeup and skin products, writing on the mirror in blue marker. beds never made. a guitar in the corner of the sitting room.

15. go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! - there are more trees on earth than stars in the milky way

16. what’s your favorite pasta dish? - angel hair pasta with puttanesca sauce

18. tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. - i can’t think of anything...

19. do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? - everything. sometimes it’s big things, sometimes small. my fears and what i’m in love with. regrets. shame. hope.

20. what’s your favorite eye color? - grey

21. talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. - idk if it’s really my favorite, but my current backpack took me all through college and it’s good for storing stuff or using as an overnight bag. it’s from timberland and is a nice earthy brown with a flap over the top. lots of pockets.

22. are you a morning person? - i can be

23. what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? - make breakfast and tea. read or watch a movie that makes me rethink everything

25. what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into? - a school, i think?

26. what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit? - i haven’t had them forever, but i wear my doc martens with everything. i used to wear plain white keds with everything.

27. what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor? - winter green

28. sunrise or sunset? - sunrise

30. think of it: have you ever been truly scared? - yes

31. what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. - i like soft, fluffy socks and ones with fun patterns. i love hiking socks. i don’t wear them to sleep tho.

32. tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. - i went to a waffle house at 5am with a friend and some friends of hers i’d just met on her birthday. we were all really drunk, the food took forever, and it tasted awful, but we were happy and laughing.

33. what’s your fave pastry? - probably a cinnamon roll

35. do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? - i like a good calligraphy pen and new notebooks. i don’t use them often; i feel like i don’t have anything important enough to write.

37. do you like keeping your room messy or clean? - it’s usually clean unless i’m not feeling well. sometimes i get disorganized.

38. tell us about your pet peeves! - overlapping conversations. people interrupting others. loud mouth noises, like chewing or licking. people criticizing my driving. nitpicky comments on my clothes or how i look. being talked about.

39. what color do you wear the most? - black, probably.

41. what’s the last book you remember really, really loving? - how it feels to float by helena fox

42. do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! - nope

43. who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? - i’m not sure

44. when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? - i can’t remember

45. do you trust your instincts a lot? - not really

46. tell us the worst pun you can think of. - i can’t remember it but something about pigeons and being coo-l

47. what food do you think should be banned from the universe? - bacon. i just wanna make people angry.

48. what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? - my dad told me a story once, about when i was a kid. he said that he and i were walking together near the lake in the neighborhood across from mine. i was holding his hand, and i said to him that this was the happiest time in my life because i wouldn't be the same when i grew out of being a child. i think i have the same fear now--that i'll never be that happy again.

49 do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought?

- i like records but i only have one. it's an album by ccr. i really like them

50. what’s an odd thing you collect?

- beer bottle caps

52. what are your favorite memes of the year so far?

- maybe those "girl..." text posts that just say stupid shit

53. have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them?

- watched them all but pulp fiction. i don't really remember heathers at all

55. what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point?

- lets not talk about that

57. go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics?

- not in the mood sorry

58. who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? - bri is wine mom. quincy and i are vodka aunt.

60. do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?

- yes but i rarely remember favorites. i read so much and feel it then forget all the words

61. what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received?

- someone gave me a rock once. i get too nervous to give stupid gifts

62. do you drink juice in the morning? which kind?

- orange or cranberry

63. are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?

- i'm more fussy about music than books, but i do like my books organized. i like them worn in and well-read tho, not in perfect shape.

64. what color is the sky where you are right now?

- a fuzzy, light blue-grey. it's snowing

65. is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with?

- a few

66. what would your ideal flower crown look like?

- lots of green leaves in all different shapes and sizes. tiny white and blue flowers.

67. how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?

- isolated and insignificant. safe

68. what’s winter like where you live?

- cold, grey, snowy.

69. what are your favorite board games?

- idk if i really too many board games. maybe cranium. i like puzzles more

71. what’s your favorite kind of tea?

- honey vanilla chamomile

72. are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it?

- yea and even then i forget.

73. what are some of your worst habits?

- i give up too easily

74. describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns.

- excitable. emotional. so very smart. creative as all hell. self-conscious where they shouldn't be. never runs out of words in the best way. loves to share.

75. tell us about your pets!

- my dog shiver is turning into a little old man, but he still acts like a puppy. he likes attention and whines to communicate. he'll greet you at the door and put his front paws on your thighs to say hi. follows you all around the house. loves to cuddle.

- my pigeon spirit is young and vocal. she coos for attention. when i go to sleep, she grunts every time i move to ask where i am and if i'm okay. i take showers with her and sit on the tile; she puffs up right into my side and sticks her wings out for me to splash water on her. she likes to be close to me to get neck scritches and push her head into my neck and preen every bit of me she can.

76. is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t?

- a lot probably

77. pink or yellow lemonade?

- limeade

78. are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?

- i dunno they're cute

80. what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why?

- it's white wallpaper with pink roses along the top and ribbons of pink and green striped vertically. my mom chose it before i was born.

81. describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of.

- they sort of remind me of dark water where everything is reflected back in it--not just the sky but the trees and people walking--and they make you want to look closer because you know there's something in there, it's not just a reflection, like flat glass. but it's hidden until you dio your hand in the pictures broken.

82. are/were you good in school?

- pretty good

83. what’s some of your favorite album art?

- i don't look at albums

85. do you read comics? what are your faves?

- not really, but watchmen is one of my favorites.

86. do you like concept albums? which ones?

- dunno

88. are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy?

- um. idrk. i like whatever monet was doing.

91. where do you plan on traveling this year?

- maybe michigan

92. are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch?

- i like cheese

93. what’s the hairstyle you wear the most?

- i just kind of. let it do whatever.

94. who was the last person you know to have a birthday?

- my uncle

95. what are your plans for this weekend?

- honestly have no clue

96. do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot?

- put them off until windows tells me it's restarting the computer in five minutes

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?

- mb

98. when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it?

- in college with jacob, although i wouldn't really call it joking. we just walked through a state park. it was beautiful.

100. if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why?

- idk. i feel like i'd make the same mistakes if i went back, but the future scares me.

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sweeetmonstrosity · 6 years ago

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Grounded

Summary: In which the truth of your relationship comes to light.

Pairing: Pietro Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: Slight cursing, possibly a little angsty (not really?)

Square filled: Opposites Attract

Word count: 1823

Link: AO3

A/N: This is written for my @marvelfluffbingo card. This is my first time ever sharing my writing to the world, so it’s probably not the greatest so please, judge kindly! As always, any feedback is appreciated! xx

“They are completely different from each other, I don’t understand a thing about their relationship.”

You aren’t one hundred percent sure you knew which person said that, but the person who spoke next shattered what self-confidence you had.

“Honestly? I think he’s with her for the sex or maybe even money. I mean what else could there be with her?”

Now that, that sounded like Wanda. She’s been your best friend since she joined the Avengers, which you’ve been on for about 2 years and around 5 years in the background working with Maria and Mr. Fury. Clint and Natasha were the ones to get you to trust them to bring you in to Mr. Fury. It was mostly Natasha though because she knew how it felt to be trained to be a weapon, to be pushed beyond your limits, your humanity so to speak. But Clint was the one to always calm you down immediately because you were terrified of your powers and not being able to control them fully was an incident waiting to happen that nobody needed to experience.

Nat and Clint became your family, the whole team did, but those two were who you ran too first. But at this moment, when you believed your best friend said her brother was with you only for the sex or money, which was the stupidest thing you’ve heard but, it made your fear of being alone and abandoned hear the unsaid words and felt the need to isolate yourself.

You were too unstable. You knew those times with him were when you didn’t have to control anything. You weren’t good enough for Pietro.

Running through your head was if Wanda believed that, then so did the rest of the team. That thought hit you straight in the chest, your family thought you were too fucked to be worth anything but a weapon. Just like the people who took you when you were little.

The hallways lightbulbs began to shatter as your emotions began going haywire, and you took off running. I have to go. I need to go now. I won’t hurt them or destroy their home, I love them. Get your stuff and go!

You grab your backpack and throw your clothes inside and grab your box of pictures full of times from the team parties and off days. But before you could begin to think about writing up an explanation on why you had to leave, you heard your boyfriend call out for you.

“Y/N? Princess, where are you?” You held your breath and tried to get a hold on your powers in order to leave unnoticed. You froze as you heard him call out again, “babe, are you in the bedroom?” When you finally noticed his voice was closer you started moving.

Pietro ran into the room as you were pushing open the door that leads outside and caged his arms around you. You let out a whine and tried to wiggle away from him.

He leans down to your ear and softly growls, “stop it, Y/N. Clint heard what those girls said, and they’re gone. Tony fired them all on the spot. You know it wasn’t Wanda that said what hurt you, right? She wouldn’t hurt or disrespect you, ever. She also may have punched the intern that said it. Either way, you’re not leaving, princess. I won’t let you leave your family for something those girls who mean nothing to us said to try and become my sisters’ friend.”

You sniffle slightly and shake your head, “they’re right, Pietro, we are so different from each other. You like to go out, talk to strangers and make friends wherever you go. I just like to be home, with you and the team. You deserve someone like you, to be outgoing.”

Pietro turned you around and moved your chin to look at him. “I need you. Y/N, I need someone who keeps me grounded. I mean, look at me babe! Everything I do is done as fast as I can possibly do it. If I was dating someone just like me, I’d burn myself out into nothing.”

You feel a couple tears fall down your cheeks and he wipes them away and smiles at you. “I’m with you for a reason, Y/N. I like that you can calm me down, keep me from running rampant through the compound. I love our calm time when you have me lay down and run your fingers through my hair. I love you. Only you. Understand?”

Letting out a small garbled laugh you nod your head. Pietro smiles and kisses your forehead then leans and kisses your lips softly. “Good! Now, let’s go tell your papa bear Clint to disarm the arrows and eat his lunch before he breaks a hip or something.”

Pietro intertwines your fingers with his and pulls you towards the door. You follow him quietly before you realize that he said he loved you. You let out a gasp and pull him to a stop.

“What’s wrong, princess?” He tilts his head waiting for you to answer.

“You said you love me?”

He smiles, “I did.”

You squeeze his fingers tightly, “and do you really?”

Pietro cups your cheeks in his hands, and it feels like he looks directly into your soul. “I do, Y/N, I do love you. More than I can put into words.”

Moving your hands to cup his cheek, you pull him down faintly to your face and lightly brush your lips over his. Then he’s sealing his lips over yours, stealing the breath from your lungs as he leans his body closer to yours. When you finally pull away to regain your breath, he leans his head against yours and laughs softly.

“Wha-“

His question is cut off by your words being repeated until you know he truly hears it and kisses you to make you stop. “I love you, too. God, I love you, Pietro, I love you so much. I lo-“

Before you know what’s happening Pietro has pulled away from your body, gave you that blinding smile and then, he’s gone. Running through the compound yelling as loud as he possibly can, “she loves me! She loves me! Old man! You didn’t see that coming did you!? She loves me!” You stand there, smiling like an idiot because you can hear the happiness in his voice.

Then you hear a glass shatter and laugh loudly as you see your boyfriend running full speed at you, a slightly worried look on his face and Clint is following close behind with his arrows ready trying to gain a shot. You’re still trying to control your giggles and hear Pietro smugly say, “you can’t shoot me when I’m holding your precious baby bird!”

When Clint sighs heavily, you begin to use your powers to switch his bow and arrow with a small nerf gun. He raises an eyebrow at you in question, so you mouth to him, don’t let him see it coming.

Your boyfriend is still laughing, enjoying his small win over Clint finally. While you’re in his arms you begin to smile at the ecstatic giddiness you feel thrumming through his body, and the pure joy pounding in your heart. After you enjoy the happiness and love surrounding you and your boyfriend for a minute or two, you finally lean your head to lay on his shoulder, so Clint has a clean shot.

Not hearing the shot or any arguments yet, you know why. Clint is trying to find the perfect thing to say before he shoots, and you giggle when you finally hear him. “Actually, asshat, I did see it coming.”

Pietro let’s out a small grunt when Clint shoots him right in the forehead five times and looks down at you when you let out the biggest laugh he’s heard in a few weeks and he pulls the nerf bullet off his forehead.

“What? Didn’t see that coming?” Clint laughed and turned to walk back to the common room before he paused and looked back at Pietro. “By the way kid,” Clint said laughing still, “you may be her boyfriend, but she’ll always have her papa bird’s – papa birds not papa bears - back.”

Once Clint was gone and Pietro lets you wiggle down from his strong arms, he gives you a small growl as you began to run through the halls laughing like never before. You obviously knew you would never outrun him, and he let you run until you get into your room. That’s when he grabbed you and threw you on the bed and dug his fingers into your sides. “You helped the bird-man, Y/N?! You’re supposed to protect me from not getting shot by him!”

Never once do your giggles and squeals stop since he began tickling you. “Pietro! Mercy, baby mercy!” Your giggles finally die down and Pietro falls back on his side facing you on the bed next. He looks over at you and runs a finger over your jaw as you smile up at him.

Pietro pouted as he laid there and mumbled “can’t believe you gave him a nerf gun, Y/N. You’re supposed to be on my side, protecting me from your bird dad. You should have given me a nerf gun so it would’ve been fair!”

Leaning forward to kiss his chin you smile softly and whisper, “he had to get payback for the glass breaking in the common room or else Tony or Stevie would’ve made your punishment a lot worse.”

He rolls his eyes and wraps his arms around you, “I suppose your right.” he grumbled and kissed your forehead. Laying there in the silence isn’t uncommon between you guys, its normal for you. Just when you decide taking a nap in your boyfriend’s warm strong arms, he breathes out, “you’re so beautiful, you know? Just laying there, completely relaxed with me. Nothing can ever compare to these times we have together. I love you so much, Y/N, so damn much.”

Heat rises to your face and you smile shyly as you wrap your arm around his waist. “You’re not the worst looking superhero I’ve met, babe.” You hear Pietro let out an exaggerated gasp at your words and you laugh again. “Trust me, love, I know, especially after today, I know it without a doubt. And I love you too babe, I truly love you with my entire heart and soul, Pietro.”

Kissing the top of your head, he pulls you up and walks to the dresser to grab a bag of water-balloons and fills some up quickly in the bathroom. Watching as he walks back to you, he silently tells you to climb on his back and when he begins running you hears him give his best maniacal laugh and say “now, let’s go start a war with your bird dad and weirdly protective superhero uncles!”

#marvelfluffbingo #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro fanfic #pietro maximoff #pietro x reader #pietro fluff #pietro oneshot #maximoff #avengers #pietro maximoff x y/n #marvel #baby bird #princess #rae writes

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sup-hoes-its-me · 6 years ago

Text

With Time (Tobirama x Reader)

A/N: I'm a terrible writer, I know. Tobirama x reader bc this guy doesn't get enough love. I really love the song anxiety by blackbear so here's a one shot inspired by the vibes i get from it.

word count: 4732

Part one/Part Two/Part Three

I am a Hatake. Naturally I loved dogs, right? They were our family’s summon, our most important companions (other than our human ones), and the one true beast we trusted with our lives. You’d think I’d get along with every dog and mutt out there, regardless of breed, right?

Wrong.

There was one absolute dog that I could not stand. His name was Tobirama Senju. He was the bane of my existence.

Ever since we were children growing up together, I couldn’t stand him. I was always close with his older brother, Hashirama, or as I nicknamed him, “Hashi-kun”. We would run through the forest together, playing silly games like cops and robbers, and pretending we were explorers from a far away land. Then, when we grew of age, we started to train together in our shinobi natures. While he was the only living person known to use the Wood nature, I inherited the Lightning nature from my father.

We were raised in the Warring States period, and although most clans were at war during this time, the Hatake and Senju never had issues with each other (idk if this is even true, just go with it, fam). It was mainly us against the terrible Uchiha who threatened our lives each time we battled. When we were old enough to engage in combat, we did. That’s how our childhood was. We fought for our lives if we could use our chakra, if not we stayed at home and did what we could to support our clans.

For the most part, I was a friendly, easy going girl. I liked normal things, like eating dango and climbing trees and making friends. But for some goddamn reason I could not bring myself to like Tobirama. Frankly, I thought he was a grumpy bitch, and I didn’t want anything to do with him.

Still, Hashirama insisted that I attempt to become friends with him. After all, they were brothers, and if I was to be one of his best friends, I would need to be civil with his only surviving brother.

But it was just everything about that mug that made me want to punch him in the face. His stupid spiky gray hair that almost matched that of my clan. I hated the way he marked his face every morning with that red paint. His face protector was the ugliest, stupidest thing I’d ever laid eyes on.

And god, was he rude to me. Always had been since I first met him at six years old. Six! He was five and I was six, and he completely embarrassed me in front of my friends by telling me my lightning release was weak, and his baby brother could do better. The comment was far from necessary, and it made me fume.

Not to mention he had to be better at everything. He had to best me at Water Release, and he always one upped me when we trained. Hashirama would laugh and always congratulate both of us for our skills, but I was always shamed I couldn’t impress anyone. He always had to show off in front of his clan, my friends, even my dad.

Even my summon, Popo, had taken a liking to him after I specifically told the dog that the boy was pure evil.

To put it simply, Tobirama was my rival and a pain in my neck. I’m not sure he was fully aware of how I felt because I tried to keep things civil, but I could tell from sideways glances and scoffs that he knew something was up between us.

The first time I actually spoke to him alone, without the comforting presence of Hashirama was almost eye-opening. I was sitting in a tree, the ripe age of seventeen. It was my birthday, and I spent it alone. Ever since my father died, I spent the majority of holidays alone.

I let my feet swing below me, hanging from the thick branch. I pulled one of my knees to my chest to hug, pressing my nose to my skin to hide my face. I wouldn’t cry, but I couldn’t help but feel empty. Being isolated in this way really damages a person.

The tree I sat in was producing bright green apples, and they hung around me. They were still sour, not quite ripe yet. I could smell them, the intense scent of freshly picked apples, like the ones my mother used to bring home to bake. They reminded me of a time when my older brother ate so many sour apples because of his and got so sick to his stomach he was throwing up for two days.

Suddenly, I jumped when an apple came hurtling my way and knocking into the trunk I leant against. I cursed under my breath and glared down at the ground, looking for the culprit so I could give them a good whack on the head. Instead, I was met with someone unexpected, and most definitely unwelcome.

“What the hell, Senju?” I growled at him, picking an apple by my head and throwing it down at him with deadly accuracy. He sidestepped it though with a soft ‘tsk’ under his breath. When he said nothing for another few moments, I persisted. “Well? Do you have an issue because I’d rather not be harassed by-”

“Shut up, Y/N. I’m not here to give you a hard time,” he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “I’m actually here to give you something.”

“Sure you are.” I rolled my eyes as I replied. He had to be pulling my leg. I mean, what would he have to give me other than a bad day and embarrassment. I crossed my arms over my chest and waited with my nose stuck in the air. He looked just as unimpressed and irritated as I did, but I could see some foreign emotion flashing through his red almond eyes. I questioned flatly, “What is it?”

He pulled a small box from his pocket, about as big as the palm of his hand and tossed it to me. I caught it in my hand and held it up to inspect it. It didn’t look dangerous, but it could have a paper bomb inside for all I knew. I pulled the box into my lap so I could glare down at him.

“Why are you giving this to me? What is it?”

“It’s just something I had lying around. Don’t think much of it, Hatake,” the boy told me gruffly before turning on his heel. Just as he made it a few steps in the other direction, he abruptly came to a stop and tilted his head forward. I wondered if he was contemplating something as he stood there with his hands strictly shoved in his pockets. I thought for a second to throw another apple at him, but decided against it. I’m so glad I didn’t.

He peered over his shoulder for a quick second before looking away again. “Happy Birthday, Y/N.”

I gaped at him as he walked away. When he was out of my sight, I looked down at the small box in my lap and narrowed my eyes. Was this really a birthday present from my rival? I took a deep breath and untied the wire holding the lid closed.

Hesitantly, I opened the lid and put it to the side. Inside the box were two absolutely beautiful shuriken. They were razor sharp, two of the best I’d ever seen. They were so new and polished that they glimmered in the sunlight. I gasped as I picked one up and held it in my hands. It was weighted perfectly and sat in my hand like it was made for me.

There was no way he just kept shuriken of this quality just sitting around. Tobirama must have bought these special for me. For my birthday. No one cared about my birthday anymore. Not even my brother who lived with his wife and family. As I held the shuriken in my hands, I let out a hitched breath.

Tobirama, you bastard.

_______________________________________

The second time I was alone with Tobirama was actually during a confrontation. Never in my entire life did I think I would defend the Senju, actually protect him from harm like I cared about him, only that’s precisely what happened when he encountered a certain Madara one day when he was in the forest training.

Tobirama had a special place he preferred to train. It was right at the edge of the forest beside the river. He was so skilled in his water jutsu and worked on this developing one. I forgot what it was called, but it involved beautiful water dragons. I watched him conjure it once while I worked on the side with Hashirama. I was completely captivated. It was beautiful, what this man had created.

I was walking through the forest with my summon by my side. He was a majestic husky with intense blue eyes and reddish-brown fur mixed into the white. I loved him like my own family, and often let just walk around with me when I was lonely. He was nice company.

He knew all about my conflicted feelings towards Tobirama. He knew how I thought that his jutsu were gorgeous, and that I’d been moved when he gifted me those shuriken for my birthday. He knew all about it. And he often teased me. It was like having an annoying older brother around, I swear.

“Are you aware that you’re leading us directly to where Tobir-” I swiftly cut Popo off before he could say anything else.

“I just wanted to visit the river today and sit on my favorite rock, Popo. I doubt he’ll be training this late, anyway.” That was a lie. I knew Tobirama would be training at this time. He trained nearly every day at six sharp, and it was a little after seven. He probably wouldn’t finish up for another hour.

I didn’t quite understand why I wanted to see him, but I was convincing myself it was just to thank him for the shuriken he gave me a week ago. That had to be it. I wasn’t going to visit Tobirama for my own satisfaction, was I?

My dog laughed to himself, but continued at my side obediently as always.

The forest was oddly tense as we approached the river where he would normally be. I could faintly make out his figure from where I was, but also there was another figure just beyond him, dressed in all black with black hair. My gut immediately told me, Uchiha, and I gasped. My hand subconsciously slipped out one of the shuriken from my pocket, clutching it tightly between my fingers as I approached on silent feet.

And as I listened in on their conversation, narrowly avoiding their range of sight behind trees and thick brushes, I realized the danger in this confrontation. I bit my lip and fiddled with my weapon, ready to pounce on Madara if needed. Strangely, I felt the need to protect Tobirama. It was like this odd burning desire in my stomach, and I desperately wished to smother the thought.

Only, my mind was on more important things.

I could barely make out what he saying at first, but finally I could hear what Tobirama was saying, and it left my heart racing. “-the only way to end this is to kill you.” He sounded so serious, his voice deep and terrifying. Although these two boys were only teenagers, barely seventeen, they were fully capable and ready to slaughter each other.

My back pressed to a tree, feeling the bark scratch my skin through the fishnets. The shaking through my hands was almost uncontrollable, and I had to steady them to keep from dropping my weapon. I was scared. I admit it. I was terrified. I didn’t want to just stand here and let Tobirama get hurt, but Madara, all of the Uchiha really, were terrifying.

“The day I allow you to raise a hand to me will be the day you die, Senju,” the other boy replied.

“So be it. We will see who really is superior.”

Then, the sound of a sword unsheathing made my head snap up and breath to suddenly inflate my lungs. The fear for myself left my body as I rushed out from behind the tree. I felt like crying as tears gathered behind my eyes. There would not be a fight to the death on this day, at this spot, if I could help it.

I threw myself between the pair. I thankfully kept myself on my feet as I gasped, gritting my teeth to keep myself from crying. I held up a hand towards Madara, as if I had a chance of keeping him from destroying me and getting to Tobirama with the snap of his fingers. My entire body was trembling so violently that I could barely keep my balance.

Tobirama was completely shocked to see me, his eyes wide and concerned. He noticed the glint of his shuriken in my hand and the tears streaming down my face. He was beginning to say something, but only my name left his lips.“Y/N-”

Madara rudely interrupted, his eyes scanning my quivering, minuscule form with amusement in his eyes. “Who is this? You’re little Hatake girlfriend? Can’t defend yourself, Tobirama,” he mocked. I glanced up at him finally, having enough courage to face him. He had no emotion in those blank black irises. Nothing. I felt another rough tremor run through my body at that.

“Please, don’t. N-Not here. Not now, M-Madara,” I whispered through my teeth. I took another step closer to Tobirama until I could feel the heat from his body. I kept my eyes on the Uchiha though. He had no right to threaten my friend like this. He had no right to cross this river where Tobirama trained and threaten to steal his life. “Tobirama, please,” I whimpered. His rough, calloused fingers touched my upper arm before wrapping around and tugging me closer to him, almost behind him in a protective stance.

His gaze was enough for the Uchiha to get the hint. It was not the time. “Fine,” he replied grimly. “Another day we will finally see who prevails.”

With those words being his last, he left into the forest.

I let out a sob, pressing my hands over my eyes to cover my pathetic tears. Why was I even crying? I wasn’t sure. Was it because of my fear, or because of my overwhelming rush of adrenaline? I felt like I was drowning in my emotions, and the only thing I could do was cry.

Tobirama sighed, brushing a few strands of my hair behind my ears. “Y/N, why did you do that?” he mumbled.

“I couldn’t just let you get hurt. I thought you might die, Tobirama!” I cried, burying my face further into my palms.

“Do you doubt my abilities?”

“Tobirama, please. I-I just couldn’t stand the thought of you getting hurt; even if you are strong, you can still make a mistake, you idiot!” I bawled, finally taking my hands off of my face. Before he had the time to protest, I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck and pulled him close to me, burying my snotty nose and salty eyes into his shoulder. “You dumb idiot. Are you trying to get yourself killed?” I scold him against his collarbone, my lips just barely skimming his skin.

He was awkward and tense, wrapped his arms strictly around my shoulders and patted me on the back.

“Don’t do that again!”

“Y/N-”

I hissed against his skin and tightened my grip on his neck. “Shut up. Just promise me!” I cried. He nodded begrudgingly, but that was enough for me. I melted in his hold and kept crying until all the tears had drained from my body. And he didn’t utter another word.

___________________________________________

The third time was different. The third time I knew I felt something for Tobirama at this point that I would have never even given thought to before. I was twenty, living alone in my single room apartment. I was a weak shinobi that woke up every morning, wore nearly the same outfit, drank the same tea from the same tea shop, saw the same faces on the street, and reported to the same hokage each morning.

But I rarely slept. My sleeping schedule ran wild and irregular. It was because I could never get him off my mind. The brother of the first Hokage, the boy who gifted me those shuriken when we were seventeen. The boy who threatened an entire clan and could probably succeed. The boy who held me when I cried and promised me things would be okay.

I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way he smirked when someone did something stupid, or the way he rolled his eyes when his brother spoke about gambling and laughed like a complete lunatic. I couldn’t stop thinking about his face, and how he looked just right when the sun was shining in from the east. I liked the color of his hair, and that his eyes were a unique red, unlike the sharingan, but perfect for him.

His jutsus were outstanding, and his speed rivalled that of no other. He was amazing.

I was entranced by Tobirama Senju, and no one was to know. Not even my best friend, Hashirama. Definitely not him. He would no doubt attempt to meddle and ruin everything. He would be ecstatic and tell me that his plan or whatever worked out, that he was jumping for joy that his best friend was interested in his little brother.

The mere thought of that man’s reaction made me want to be sick.

I’m not sure why I suddenly had this infatuation with the light haired warrior. I wanted I drown out those thoughts, but they kept coming back. I could barely keep my composure when we were working together. He was so handsome, and each time we touched I felt jolts go up and down my arms. Not only was it embarrassing, but incredibly frustrating. I couldn’t get my work done properly with him around.

The only one to know about my feelings was, of course, Popo.

‘Y/N, I’ve known since you were five years old that you were interested in that Senju boy,’ Popo would tell me as if he really knew this would happen all along. He would say, ‘Although, he doesn’t seem like the dating type, and is quite cold, I believe that you two have history and chemistry to work through the dents.’

And I always scoffed. I did not want to pursue a relationship with him. He was still the annoying Senju I’ve always known, only now he’s grown up and isn’t as rude and ugly anymore. He might even be helpful and attractive...at times. That’s all I’m saying.

Anyway, after the village was created and Hashirama took place as Hokage, he was quick to let me take the place as his personal assistant, which basically meant I just helped him with paperwork and advised him on some important issues facing Konoha. Tobirama was also there to make decisions. We all worked together to keep the village afloat and developing.

I sat beside the long-haired man’s desk with Popo sitting by my side, his head resting in my lap. I stroked his fur softly with my free hand as I filled out paperwork with the other. Hashirama drank tea and scanned over his lotto tickets from earlier that week. He was quite the gambler, and he’d even passed the trait onto his granddaughter, Tsunade. Cute little girl, I tell you, but god was she stubborn.

I took a break from the work to sip at my own green tea, my eyes sliding from the work to my friend. He caught my gaze and grinned. “Y/N, you really don’t have to fill that out if you don’t want to. It’s my job after all.”

“It’s fine. Gives me something to do.”

“Or we could just talk, like old times! What do you say?! It’s been weeks since we had a long, fun conversation, don’t you think, Hatake?” he asked with a chuckle. I nodded, a smile growing on my lips as well. I set down my tea and placed my pen into the ink pot.

“How’s life? Treating you well?”

I nodded, wondering why he was asking. He saw me everyday, and asked the same question each morning, and then after lunch. “I mean, yeah. I don’t have anything to complain about,” I replied, trying to come up with something other than “fine” or “good” like usual.

“Any suitors yet? I know you’ve been single for a long time.”

“Hashi-kun, you know me. Lonely as always. None of the other shinobi catch my eye,” I lied through my teeth. And as always, my cheeks turned a bit red. They always did when I was thinking about Tobirama. When he mentioned suitors, I hated that my mind immediately went to him. “Well, there might be one person, but it’s not plausible.”

He quirked a brow, and I noticed the bright smile growing on his face fill with mischief. I guess this is why he’s my best friend. “Oh? Care to share?”

“Not particularly. I don’t want to get your hopes up,” I laughed, but it was obviously to cover up my nervousness. He noticed.

“Ah, I see. Well, if you need help, I’m all ears, and I can be quite the matchmaker.”

We talked about some other stuff, like his family and my dogs, especially Popo, who remained asleep in my lap for the conversation. The door finally swung open an hour or so later after the sun had begun to set and our tea run cold. Without a knock or anything, the door creaked open and in entered Tobirama in his casual clothes, forehead protector nowhere to be seen. That was my favorite time to stare at his face, as weird as that is. He just looked so...manly. Kinda...well, hot! He was hot as fuck with his hair falling down and his face clear.

He froze when he noticed me sitting at the desk with his brother and my summon. Eyes scanned my form, and I felt myself shift under his gaze. “Tobi,” I hummed the sweet nickname I adopted about a year or two before.

Tobirama rolled his eyes at my nickname, still not used to the casualness behind it. His hand went to rub the back of his neck. “Y/N, I didn’t know you were here.” He averted his gaze from me to the floor.

I noticed when he walked it that he looked clean and rid of sweat and dirt. He must not have trained today, or a least not at the usual time. He maintained that evening practice long into his adulthood. “I thought you would be training. Normally you’re out until eight or so working on your new jutsu,” I said.

“I decided to relax today.”

Satisfied, I smiled up at him and clapped my hands together.“That’s great. You deserve a break, you know. After all, you work so hard during the day trying to bring peace to Konoha and all.” It felt awkward: what I saying, praising him this way, the way he was looking at me as if I was the only one in the room that mattered.

Hashirama noticed the air between us, smugly crossing his arms across his chest and flicking his gaze between us. I gaped at him like a fish and quickly ducked my head, burying my face in my dog’s fur. He stirred from his slumber, but didn’t move, only sighed.

“I hope your conversation wasn’t too important-”

“Nope. We were actually just discussing you.”

I bit my lip, trying not to explode. What the hell were you doing, Hashirama? I screamed in my head. If he exposed me, I would kill him. Godlike shinobi or not, I would actually murder him.

Thankfully, Tobirama said nothing.

“What did you need, brother?”

“Tsunade was calling for you. She wishes you read her a story before bed,” he muttered sheepishly, a phrase I never thought I would use when talking about the man. Sheepish. He was the most blunt, brute man that I knew. Hashirama laughed as he stood from his desk, nodding his head.

He really adored his kin. I admired that about him. He had so many children and grandchildren, no wonder he was such a happy man. I peeked up from Popo’s fur to see my friend leaving the room. He waved to me and saved me a wink for when he was shutting the door. Dammit, Hashi. Like I thought, he was a meddling bastard.

“Y/N, how are you this evening?”

I bit my lip and looked to the side, not daring to look in his crimson eyes. My heart would no doubt skip a beat.

“I’m good, I guess. Just a lot of paperwork,” I told him softly, just barely below my normal speaking voice. He nodded firmly, and suddenly I couldn’t handle the tension between us. If possible, you could cut this tension with a knife. It was awkward and tense, and I could feel my pulse in my chest with every anxious, confused breath.

I stood from my place at the desk and brushed down my skirt, straightening my top as well. He scanned my form; I could feel it from the corner of my eye. I placed the files and papers in a neat pile on the desk, threw the pen in the bucket, and patted Popo on the back, as a signal we were about to leave.

He raised a non-existent brow at me, judging me with that dog logic of his.

“Are you leaving?”

“Yeah, well, Hashirama is gone, and I don’t have any more work tonight so-”

“Right, right. I won’t keep you,” he agreed, his voice lacking his normal confidence. He seemed tired, or even disappointed. Yet, I was too distracted with my own feelings to take much notice. “It was...nice speaking with you.”

I tried to gaze up at him, a small, lopsided smile on my lips. But his face was just too much for me to handle. I loved the way his lip was curved up in a weird grimace, almost a smile but almost a cringe. He looked hilarious. I liked the way his eyes stared out the window as if he felt nervous. He held his head high, chin in the air, but he looked so timid at the same time. He was completely adorable.

No doubt my cheeks were red as I turned my head down once again. “It was nice seeing you too, Tobi-kun.” My voice, as light as a feather sighed. I started to walk to the door and had my hand on the knob when my dog grabbed at my sleeve, making me pause if only for a split second.

But that second was enough.

“Y/N.”

Swiftly, I peered over my shoulder at him. The strange urgency in his tone made me take a second guess. I wasn’t sure how either of us were feeling in that moment. His emotions were hard to read that night. I felt like I was staring at a puzzle, an impossible one.

“Yes?”

“It’s nothing. I don’t know why I called your name. Carry on, Hatake.” My heart broke when he called me by my surname for the first time in years. Once again, I turned around and grabbed the doorknob, only this time I pushed the door open and left the room.

Popo sighed loudly as he trotted by my side down the long corridor. “You are a fool, Y/N. An absolutely foolish little girl.” And I couldn’t say anything back. I knew he was right.

#naruto #naruto x reader #tobirama #tobirama senju #senju x reader #tobirama x reader #naruto imagine #naruto shippuden #second hokage #wow i cant believe i wrote this long of a fic #i finished all three parts before post tho so check them all out #the ending is worth it #at least i hope it is #writing #mine #oneshot #naruto one shot

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retrauxpunk · 7 years ago

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tagged by @sardoniyx THANK U HUN XX

when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?: I categorically Do Not have cereal. ...but it’s pretty much been milk in the past because i like the cereal much more than the milk.

do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day?: i mean i think i did sometimes when cold weather was a novelty rather than the five-year-long winter that this current winter in london feels like

how do you take your coffee/tea?: coffee with a shitload of sugar and milk and sometimes flavourings ... tea with milk and one sugar.

do you keep plants?: nah

what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?: writing (poetic prose/poetry if it’s a particular brand of romantic/romance-adjacent feeling) ... sometimes drawing

do you like singing/humming to yourself?: yeeeees

what’s something that made you smile today?: oh man. i haven’t had a good day. but something that made me INTERNALLY SMILE was this excellent message @cheapskate-bleeding-queer sent me :)

what’s your favorite pasta dish?: spaghetti/penne with GARLIC and CHEESE and sometimes CHILLI and (usually but not a necessity) a meat like chicken or cured meats, in a cream/egg sauce UGHHH GOD. also bolognese is pretty Rad. with heaps of herbs/spices. unghhhhhh

what’s your favorite eye color?: i don’t know if i have one? my first fave as a kid was green. i used to not think very highly of dark brown eyes (which i have) bc it’s basically never lauded in popular media etc but then i got crushes on a series of guys with dark eyes and now i see they’re PRETTY RAD TOO

what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor?: peppermint/spearmint

what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks: SOCKS ARE FUN AND NICE AND WARM. I LIKE SOCKS WITH FUNKY/CUTE DESIGNS. wearing mismatched socks is FUN. socks that fit poorly are deeply bad. i don’t sleep with socks. i used to when i was a kid.

what’s your fave pastry?: anything with cheese and bacon. at work they have these cheese and bacon turnovers which are kind of puff pastry and they are the most fucking delicious thing ever every time i eat one i’m like jesus fucking christ how can something taset this good oh man

tell us about your pet peeves!: when people put their bags on seats on public transport and DON’T MOVE THEM when others approach to sit! when people sit on the outer seat of a two-seater on a bus/train and DON’T MOVE IN OR GET UP WHEN SOMEONE WANTS TO SIT! When someone is playing music through SPEAKERS in a PUBLIC PLACE and they are not some kind of busker/paid musician and especially if it’s shit music! people who roar down busy/populated/suburban/urban areas in EXTREMELY LOUD CARS AND MOTORCYCLES WHY? is this necessary? if it isn’t -- DO YOU FEEL REALLY SECURE ABOUT YOUR EGO? IS YOUR JUNK MONUMENTOUS? IS YOUR DICK SO BIG YOU CAN SWING IT ROUND LIKE A FIRE HOSE? also, fuckwits who open conversations with me by asking “excuse me, what part of china are you from”. if anyone presumes my ethnicity again (i don’t care if they’re correct) i’m going to make up some bullshit like “i am white, with a rare strain of jaundice” or just speak german to them and pretend i don’t know english at all.

think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you?: a gold/enamel pendant that’s a disc with a hole in the middle that looks like a segmented colour wheel. i bought it in the Exploratorium gift shop in San Francisco, I was not having a great time and bought it to cheer myself up a bit? and i turned it into a symbol of overcoming unpleasant thought spirals or something like that, in my head.

do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it!: i like the tom n toms chain in sydney. i go to the one in central or the one in town hall and i’ve been there so many times with so many people and have basically always had a great time, drinking the peppermint hot chocolate. many hours of bitching/moaning about my love life has been spent there. it’s been great. i was even there with an ex once but the place CANNOT BE RUINED because i’ve also been there with like all of my best friends. and it’s always a stellar experience. yum. also, brainwave cafe which was right near the design building at my uni. a cute aesthetic, nice food, and i love the proximity to my alma mater, and i had nice experiences at uni overall, therefore GOOD ASSOCIATIONS, etc.

do you trust your instincts a lot?: i did, but lately they seem to have gone on a leave of absence so ........... like ........... yeah i dunno.

what food do you think should be banned from the universe?: anything that necessitates inhumane/cruel slaughter or treatment of animals e.g. foie gras, lobster that had to be boiled alive, whales killed by being dragged through the sea by harpoons, those sadistic dishes from asia (don’t google if you don’t want to learn about actually graphic/disturbing mistreatment of animals)

do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought?: records yes because i have a record player and kind of want to be a Vinyl Person because aesthetic and i hate having money apparently HAHAH. the last one i bought was Beautiful People Will Ruin Your Life by The Wombats -- I preordered it -- there were a series of fiascos about the delivery but I think I’ll have it in my hands by the end of the week FINALLY

think of a person. what song do you associate with them?: literally anything by the killers (you know who you are). Waiting For The End by Linkin Park reminds me of my first bf (though not in a bad way).

do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?: yes, but i have very specific taste. i like Kelsey Rakes and a bunch of others whom I found on deviantART back when that was my life.

what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever received?: a couple times i was regifted the gifts that i got those people in the first place HAHAH not a hug deal though

what’s winter like where you live?: currently london. from the perspective of a sydneysider, it is ....... ......... GREY. you wake up and if you have a commitment like work, you just push through. if you don’t and you’re in the house, you open the curtains and see how the light level inside basically doesn’t change and you think WHAT IS THE POINT OF BEING ALIVE. also in the middle of winter the sun literally sets BEFORE FOUR P.M. WHAT THE EVERLOVING FUCK. the cold isn’t too bad, but the lack of sunlight is depressing. on the other hand, mulled wine is nice.

what are your favorite board games?: INNOVATION, HANDS DOWN. i also really like Monikers.

is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t?: i don’t think so ... sleeping, maybe?

are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?: in isolation they’re pretty cute and in movie context they’re funny but oversaturation/inappropriate usage makes them a little tiresome. also i read a tweet of minion smut and it was hilarious and i loved it.

are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?: i have one tattoo which is one half of a super dumb in joke/relationship meme that i came up with .......... so i want to get the second half at some point. it’ll be a couple inches square, on my right leg. i also want to get a big one on my upper arm of some kind of bird, in a bit of an industrial style.

are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy?: i rather enjoy dadaism as a concept ... man there’s one i think is on the tip of my brain but i... can’t think of it ...? i like luminism. i like warhol and lichtenstein’s pop art. roccoco is fun.

talk about your one of you favorite cities: y’know, i do like london. i love the shit-ton of theatres, the fact that musicians/performers ACTUALLY COME HERE, the WONDERFUL ABUNDANCE OF LIVE COMEDY, the fact i can go see studio recordings of TV shows, the PROXIMITY TO THE REST OF EUROPE OMG, the general aesthetic/vibe, the pleasant accents, the general feeling of safety/cleanliness. also you know what? SYDNEY. SYDNEY FUCKING ROCKS. the weather is beautiful, every fucking sydneysider who complains about sydney weather honestly doesn’t know shit. the harbour/seaside is GORGEOUS. there is a GREAT foodie/hipster cafe scene. it’s relatively clean and safe. it’s wonderfully multicultural. it’s lively but not too busy/crowded. (oh man the weather!!) ....yeah both are also crazy fucking expensive and i seem to hate living in affordable places haha kill me

where do you plan on traveling this year?: i don’t want to go anywhere. i know my family wants me to go to china but considering how my last trip went, i am Not Really Keen? but i probably should, to see the rellies

myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?: either INFP or INFJ i think? depending on the test, aries, ravenclaw/gryffindor

oh yeah tagging: @cheapskate-bleeding-queer @dandelionwyne @soapbubblepopper @whyteraven91 @watching-the-fire-dance @monkiponken @themythicalgarden + anyone who wants to do this ^_^

#about me #GOD THIS WAS FUN #you know what's a great way to spend a bad mood?#TALKING A LOT IN THESE ASK TAGS THEY ARE SO FUN #tagged

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likexporcelain · 7 years ago

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Anatomy of a Shadow (Chapter 1/9) - Jonerys

Summary: While isolating herself at her family's vacation home on the small Pacific Northwestern island of Dragonstone, Daenerys stumbles upon a crime scene which leads her to form an intense bond with a mysterious and possibly dangerous young man who won't speak to her, touch her, or even show her his face. Jon Snow is her shadow on the wall, but is he really protecting her from those who would do her harm, or is he simply leading harm right to her doorstep? Daenerys is the sun in his dark sky, but is she really worth protecting?

Rating: Explicit (for eventual and continual violence and some smut)

First chapter up on Ao3 -- see additional tags/notes/warnings there

DAENERYS

It is raining, which is a good thing. It's much more difficult to follow someone when it's raining, right? Let the water wash away any trace of me – my finger prints, shoe prints, the tire marks from my Jetta as I speed down the highway. No. The rain won't make a difference. I'll have to board the ferry to get to my family's old vacation home. That means buying a ticket, showing my I.D. and – fuck – I'll have to use my credit card because the only cash I have is a couple crumpled up five dollar bills stashed in my glove box. What am I doing? Running away is probably the stupidest thing I could do. Only guilty people run.

Still, I stand in line and buy the ticket to Dragonstone. It's my family's house after all. It would be only natural that after suffering such a traumatic event as finding my roommate with a knife dug into the center of her chest, lying between the beds in our dorm room that I would feel the need to get away, go someplace quiet to clear my head. That is what I'm really doing. I just need to get away from everyone and get these images out of my head. The detectives will soon figure out that I've left school and it will be easy for them to discover where I've gone. But that's okay, because I'm not trying to hide from them, because I did nothing wrong. Nothing they can prove, I hope.

The moon is up and the rain is still falling when I make it to the house. It's large by normal standards – three bedrooms, two bathrooms, an open main living area with floor to ceiling windows that overlook the sea – but my dad is rich and growing richer by the day, so this home was eventually stamped unworthy of a Targaryen vacation. It's been years since anyone has set foot in this house, as evident by all of the dust and the cold, musty smell I'm bombarded with as soon as I walk in. White linens cover expensive furniture and priceless artwork no one cares about anymore.

Thankfully, my dad has still been paying the bills for this place because the lights turn on when I hit the light switches and the water runs when I turn on the bathtub facet in the master bathroom. I make up the king sized bed while the tub fills with scalding water. The basin is large enough to fit three of me, so I have plenty of time to kill. I find candles and a box of matches under the bathroom sink and arranged them around the tub, light them, then turn out the sconce lighting. I prefer darkness. The tub has jets, but I have no use for them. I prefer quiet too.

When the water is high, I turn off the facet and step in. Just standing in the center of the tub, the water reaches my knees, so hot that I think my skin will bubble, but I revel in the pain. I want more. Slowly, I lower myself with closed eyes, teeth digging into my bottom lip so hard I can taste blood.

Blood.

Blood on the floor, spilling from the chest of my roommate, pooling at either side of her, expanding like round red wings ready to fly her up to heaven, or maybe hell. I hadn't known her very well. Maybe she was bad. As bad as me. No. There is no one as bad, as sick, as me.

Blood under my feet, on my knees where I knelt beside her, checking her pulse. When I had raised my hand to my mouth, I could taste it, colder than I'd expected, sweeter.

Blood around me, covering me, filling me. I open my eyes and I see all the red. I'm bathing in my roommates blood. Missandei. That was her name, but then again, I didn't really care about her. She hadn't mattered. All that mattered was the blood.

I submerge myself up to my neck, letting the heat consume me. My hand is between my legs, rubbing the tender, burning flesh, but there's no use. It's not the same. No matter how vivid the memories are, no reverie could recreate the way I felt that night with that taste in my mouth and the sight of the red pools growing in size.

For a half hour, I try, but just can't cum. I can't even get close. It's been too long. Just three days and I'm already suffering withdrawals. I thought the first time was supposed to linger. I thought I could live off of her death for years.

When the water turns cold, I pull the plug on the drain and sob until I am left lying in the middle of the tub, hugging my knees to my chest, wondering how many days I will have to myself before everyone realizes what sort of a girl I really am. Daenerys Targaryen. Beautiful, smart, rich. Possessed, deranged, dangerous.

Evil.

* * * * *

I wake up early the next morning. I'm not usually a morning person, but sleep was hard to come by when I was so convinced that at any moment one of the detectives I'd met the night of Missandei's unfortunate murder would knock on my door and ask me why I had left school, left Seattle, without notifying them. They would be suspicious, and I would eventually crack under their questioning.

But no one knocked.

The sun is rising over the trees, casting a shine over the calm ocean water that I watch from the back deck. There are some old Swiss Miss packets in one of the kitchen cupboards and I make myself a mug, but that is about the extent of the food supply here. I will have to go to the grocery store. Use my credit card again, but I suppose that at this point, it hardly matters. My fate is sealed. All I can do now is live a peaceful life for however many days, or hours, I have left.

I change into one of the few outfits I brought with me – just essentials, stuffed into a small gym bag – and tie my long, Targaryen-silver hair up in a messy pony tail. I don't bother with makeup, because impressing people isn't part of my life anymore. I am different now. No longer an over-achieving college junior. No longer the sweet daughter of one of the state's richest businessmen. My entire life is this empty house now, on this scantily populated island.

There isn't a cloud in the sky as I walk to the market, about a two mile hike, and the air smells fresh from last night's storm. So fresh I wonder for a moment if the rain had worked on me as it had on the air. Am I clean now too? Have all my sins washed away into the sea? Is that why I am walking into town right now and not riding in the back of a police car?

The closest neighbor to my family's house is half a mile down the road. Unless they've moved, it belongs to a retired couple. A retired man and his wife, I should say. She'd never worked a day in her life. He was a finance man. Hedge funds, or investment banking. Maybe both. Is there even a difference? Who knows. Either way, he's a boring old man who has too much money and never smiles despite having everything anyone could ever want. That's probably why he and my father always got along.

Sure enough, as I pass their impressive abode, Mrs. Baratheon is in the front garden. Her eyes widen when they fall to me and I raise my hand in a wave. I am always recognizable from a distance, due to the odd coloring of my hair. Or, I guess I should say, the odd absence of color. Even whiter than my alabaster skin. I stop walking so that she can approach me, smiling wide.

“My, my. Little Daenerys Targaryen? I haven't seen you since you were. . . How old were you? Fifteen?”

I smile sweetly. It's easy to lie to people who don't suspect anything of me. In a way, I'd been doing that my whole life. Any time I would drift into a gruesome daydream and someone asked “What are you thinking about?” I would smile sweetly and lie.

“You're looking well, Mrs. Baratheon,” I tell her, even though she really doesn't. Her hair is stringy and her face is wrinkled. Her gardening clothes are noticeably expensive, though, so there's that.

She brushes away my complement, not buying it, but blushes nonetheless. “Is your father and brother here? Gosh, I haven't seen them in ages either.”

“They don't come here much anymore. Viserys is down in California working on some silly nonsense project with his Silicon Valley friends. We don't exactly keep in touch. Dad's simply grown tired of the fog. He's more of a Hawaii man now. It's good to be back here. This was always my favorite place growing up.”

“Mine too! Well, that's why I insisted on moving here full-time. It does mean that Stannis is away from me quite often, but I manage. He's been working again, though only part-time. It's hard for men like him to sit still.”

“My father is the same way. His job is like a third child – his favorite child.”

Mrs. Baratheon claps her hands in front of her. “Where are my manners? Would you like to come in for some coffee? A bagel? Stannis isn't home. He's out of town until tomorrow, so you won't have to sit through any of his boring economics lectures.”

I take a breath, staring down the road while thinking the proposal over. Today more than any other day should be treated as a stop-and-smell-the-roses day, so I accept. “A bagel sounds lovely, but I'll only stay for a bit. I'm actually on my way to the market now, but it's so far and I'm famished.”

“Better fuel up then!” She exclaims, placing her hand on my shoulder and leading me up the path to her home, so lavish it makes mine feel modest. Marble floors cover every square foot of the main living area and a grand stone fireplace stretches up twenty feet to the ceiling. A staircase with a hand-carved banister curves around a crystal chandelier, leading up to a second floor overhang. A five foot tall portrait bordered by a gold frame hangs on the wall opposite the fireplace. Mr. and Mrs. Baratheon posing with their daughter, Shireen, dressed like they are characters in a Dickens novel and standing in what looks to be a drab library.

While Mrs. Baratheon brings a tray of bagels and coffee into the living room, I ask “How is your daughter? She must be a teenager by now.”

“Oh.” Her nose scrunches as she shakes her head. “Yes, yes. She's well. We have her in a boarder academy in the Northeast. She says she hates it there, but she's always been a complainer. It's good for her. I'm hoping that some time spent around other girls will do her some good. Better than hanging around here all the time, getting under toe, that's for sure.”

Nodding once, I find myself feeling odd about the response. There was no warmth in the woman's voice. I'd liked to imagine that if I'd ever have a daughter, I would speak of her warmly. I've never experienced real love or even simple affection for another human, but a child is different. I think I could love a child. But, that doesn't matter anymore either, because I will never have one of those, unless those news articles about how male prison guards treat female inmates is accurate.

I don't partake in any coffee, but I pick up one half of a toasted sesame seed bagel and smear it with Strawberry jam from a crystal bowl. Mrs. Baratheon takes a seat on the couch, but I remain standing, my eyes catching the shine of something interesting perched on the reclaimed wood mantel above the hearth.

Resting on a stand made of iron, is a knife – a dagger? – with a gold handle, intricately carved in a flourishing design. The blade is curved and at least a foot in length, clean and sharp. I gravitate toward it, my hand raising, fingers erecting to brush the smooth steel. It's beautiful, not just in appearance, but in utility, in how much damage it could do with just one swift thrust, one quick slice.

“Valyrian steel,” Mrs. Baratheon's voice rings from behind me, dripping with indifference like the daggers presence bores her. I feel offended and briefly wonder if she'd let me have it if I asked. Then again, one swift thrust, one quick slice, and I could simply take it. “Stannis brought it home with him a year ago. Some antique ceremonial weapon from one of those Eastern barbarian cultures. Personally, I think it's gaudy and dangerous, but my husband loves the thing, and I'm sure it cost him a pretty penny. I figure I'll sell it once the cigars catch up with him.”

Fingertips sliding down the flat steel surface to the golden handle, I wish to pick it up, just to see how heavy it is. It has to be heavier than the hunting knife I'd thieved from a bedroom in the frat house I'd attended a party at a week before my roommate was murdered. I'd been drawn to it the same way I am drawn to this Valyrian steel dagger, but to compare the two would be like comparing my Jetta to my father's new Maserati.

“Daenerys?”

My eyes close and behind my eyelids, I see red.

“Daenerys?”

Mrs. Baratheon's hand lands on my shoulder and my eyes snap open as I jump, pulling my hand away from the dagger.

“I'm sorry,” I say quickly.

With a smile, she says “No need to apologize. That thing is spooky as heck. Gives me a good fright nearly every day.”

While I finish my bagel, I sit with my back to the dagger and try to focus on Mrs. Baratheon's words rather than the pulsing of her jugular vein, prominent due to her lithe frame, and as soon as I've had my fill, I thank her for her hospitality and leave, but not before agreeing to come over for dinner tomorrow night. “Stannis would love to catch up with you,” Mrs. Baratheon had insisted. I don't want to come over, but I hadn't prepared an excuse to get out of it, and I figure there is a decent chance I'll already be in handcuffs by dinner time tomorrow anyway.

At the market, I optimistically purchase a weeks worth of pre-made salads, stove-top dinners and ingredients for sandwiches, quesadillas and spaghetti, along with a carton of eggs. As the cashier checks me out and bags my groceries – I'd sprung for a couple of one-dollar reusable bags because, fuck it – I turn my eyes up to the TV mounted to the wall. Seattle news. A murder, according to the headline and my heart races for a moment thinking they are talking about Missandei's murder. I half expect my photo to pop up with “Wanted for Questioning” captioned below. However, as I read the subtitles, I learn they are speaking of a different murder, a more important murder, because the man who has died was a politician. One of those conspiracy theorist-types who didn't have a shot at winning, but whose campaign was really just a way to bolster a certain subset of humans who thought they deserved more rights than anyone else simply for being white and stupid.

“The sketch seen on your screen now is that of a man police suspect is connected to the crime. He was seen by a neighbor leaving the home of the victim the night of the murder. If you have any information as to the identity or whereabouts of this man, please contact the Seattle police department immediately.”

I squint my eyes at the sketch, wondering if he is someone I know, but even if I did know him, it's not as if I'm going to contact the police about it. I am trying to avoid a murder investigation, not insert myself into a new one. But, I do not recognize the man at all. His hair is cut short to the scalp without any style, his face is covered in stubble not long enough to be considered an actual beard, his lips are thin and his cheeks look dirty, though that is probably just sloppy shading on the sketch artist's part.

“This incident follows just one day after the suspicious slaying of a nineteen year old King's Landing University student. So far, police say they have found no connection between these two murders, but have yet to rule this out as a possibility.”

“Miss?” asked the young, pimply cashier. “That'll be forty-seven fifty.”

I turned away from the TV, offer her a smile and my credit card.

Another murder. And one that is much higher in profile to mine – I mean, to my roommate's. This could only be good news, right? Scum bag or not, the assassination of a political figure will always take precedent over the stabbing of a marginally popular coed, right?

When my card is returned to me, I take my bags with another smile, but this time it is genuine. Maybe I'll have more time left than I'd thought.

* * * * *

JON

It's cold in this room. Damp. There's a leak somewhere. I hear it drip at night, but I have yet to find it's source. I don't like it here in the North where it's cold and wet and drippy. I feel like it's been years since I've felt the sun on my face. Maybe it has been years. The room is cold and so am I, even in my corduroy pants, sweater, gloves and my mask. Everything black.

“Are you a fucking moron?! Like, an actual fucking moron?!” shouts Theon Greyjoy. He's loud. Always loud. I don't like him because he's loud. It makes it difficult to hear other things, more important things, like if someone is walking up behind me or if a gun is being drawn from a holster. He's yelling at the kid because of something he saw on the news, but I've learned that most of what Theon says isn't worth listening to so I focus on listening through him, to the sound of the kid rubbing his hands anxiously across his jeans.

“I'm sorry! I forgot to put my mask on before going back outside, but it was three in the morning! How was I supposed to know some fat old man would be walking his dog at three in the morning!” the kid replies.

Gendry isn't really a kid. He's around the same age as the rest of us, but he's younger in spirit I guess. It isn't an insult that I think of him as a kid. I wish I could be a kid again. Change something. Go down a different path. One different than my brother's. It's too late now, though. I am who I am now. Only twenty-one but already an old dog unable to learn any new tricks, like being a normal person who goes outside during the day instead of sitting in a cold, damp, drippy basement until the sun is gone.

The sun. What does she look like again?

“You're not! You're supposed to know never to take your fucking mask off!” Theon retorts, clenching his fists in the fabric of Gendry's t-shirt. “Even if that mother fucker hadn't fucking seen you – There's probably fucking hair and skin and your fucking boogers all over that son of a bitch's house now! You're in the fucking system! I swear to God, if they get your finger prints I'm going to fucking --”

“I didn't take off my gloves, man!” The kid's hands are up like he's about to be arrested. “And my mask was only off for a minute! They're not going to find anything!”

Theon releases the kid from his grip, plants one hand on his hip while thrusting his other in my direction, pointing at me. “This fucking psycho doesn't even take his fucking mask off to take a fucking shower and you can't keep yours on long enough to get out of the fucking house of the dude we just fucking killed?!”

Still listening through Theon, I hear the sound of a gun sliding against the leather of a belt. It's coming from behind me. Then footsteps, quick and heavy. In a second, the gun is digging into Theon's temple with Ramsay on the trigger side.

“I think you owe my brother an apology,” he sneers. I can't see his face, but I know that one corner of his mouth is lifted in a smirk. He wants to shoot Theon. He's wanted to for a long time. He would shoot everyone he meets if he could get away with it. Maybe even me.

Eyes wide with fear, Theon takes a hard swallow and says “Put the gun away. I was just pissed, alright? Let's not over react.”

“That didn't sound like an apology.” Ramsay turns his head to me and I was right, he's smirking. “That didn't sound like an apology, did it, Jon?”

I don't respond. No words, no shake or nod of my head. It wouldn't matter anyway. Ramsay does what he wants and I don't try to stop him. That's how it's always been. I wonder if he's actually going to pull the trigger this time. It would be a shame, not because I don't want to see Theon die, but because I've always hated guns. Quick, loud, and uncaring. That's Ramsay, though.

Before I can wonder too long, the scene is interrupted by our leader – our boss, I suppose. A boss who pays us not just in money, but also in warm bodies to kill.

“Put it away,” Roose demands in his dry, bored voice. “We have one more project and then we'll be out of the state. Gendry made a serious error, but it doesn't change our game plan.”

Ramsay complies, sliding the gun back behind him, into the waistband of his pants. He always listens to Roose Bolton. I think he sees the balding, middle-aged man with almost as little personality as me as a father figure. Maybe I should feel happy about that, because Ramsay never had a real father, but I don't feel happy about it because I don't know if I can feel happy about anything anymore.

Sitting in this cold, damp, drippy room of this cold, damp, drippy basement, we go over the mission again. Though he acts like what the kid did is no big deal, Roose doesn't trust him anymore, which makes him not trust any of us anymore, so after we go over the mission, we go over it again, and again. The target is some money man – I don't bother learning names anymore – who helps to launder money for foreign dictators or some such thing. Roose always makes sure to tell us all the reasons why a person is better off dead, but it never really matters. He could tell us the target is a teenage beauty queen with Ivy League ambitions and a spotless record and we would still show up at her house and take care of business.

Any murderer who claims to have a code, is a liar. I surely don't have a code, unless hating guns constitutes a code, but then again, I'm not a murderer. Not in the literal sense of the term anyway. I've never killed anyone. Not one person. Ever. I wouldn't be able to, and sometimes I feel weak because of it. Even the kid can kill, but I can't. I watch. I watch and then, when the job is done, I clean. That's why Roose isn't worried about Gendry's fingerprints or hair being found. It's because I cleaned. It's my job. It's what I'm good at. I listen, I watch, I clean. And I never take off the mask.

Well. . . not never. Theon was wrong. I do take it off to shower, because showers are a safe place when the bathroom door is locked. There's a bathroom in this basement we've been calling home for the past week. It's small and there is mold growing in the corner behind the sink that I still haven't fully eradicated. I wait until everyone else is asleep and then I go in, lock the door, and turn the water in the shower stall on. Until the shower heats up, the bathroom is even colder than the rest of the basement and as I disrobe, my skin tightens and stings and twitches in it's yearning for shelter.

There is a mirror above the sink, rusted on the edges and speckled with toothpaste and whatever else. I look at myself when my clothes are off and in a pile on the floor. I stare at my chest and stomach. My muscles are made more prominent by the fact that I haven't eaten in a day. Food is hard to come by while we are on missions because the need to lay low is even greater. Across my chest and my stomach are long, jagged, discolored scars. Every night I look at them and think back to the day I acquired them. On my knees in a filthy alleyway.

The mask is always last to come off. I have to prepare myself every time. The pain I feel without it's warm cloth covering my head and neck and face is real. I've grown so accustomed to always having my breathing partially compromised by the fabric over my mouth that I can no longer inhale normally without it. I take short, shallow breaths through my teeth. My eyes have grown so used to seeing through the fabric as well that light burns my eyes now without it. I have to unscrew two of the three bulbs mounted in an industrial light fixture above the mirror just to stand it.

When the mask is off, I look at my face, but never for too long. I'm pale, a ghost of a man, and there are scars there too, making me look older than I am, making me look ugly. I've grown a short beard, thinking it would detract from the scars, but I am still hideous. My dark hair is long too, and greasy from always being cocooned.

Steam envelops me now and my image blurs in the fog, relieving me of my own haunting reflection.

#jonerys #jon x dany #jon x daenerys #jonerys fanficiton #game of thrones fanfiction #jonerys fic #anatomy of a shadow: chapter one #anatomy of a shadow #my fic #my fanfiction #mine

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ionlyeatcomfortfood · 5 years ago

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The Asks

@fandima did all of them for me, so I shall do them all for her.

1. When you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?

Cereal

2. Do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintry day?

No. Cold can go fuck itself.

3. What random objects do you use to bookmark your books?

Hands, leaves, socks.

4. How do you take your coffee/tea?

Coffee I do with a little creamer, and tea I take as is.

5. Are you self-conscious about your smile?

Yes. There’s a reason I say my teeth are ‘monster teeth’

6. Do you keep plants?

I don’t get plants, so no.

7. Do you name your plants?

I name everything. I may not name my plants, but I sure do name my friend’s.

8. What artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?

Music. I will sing a sad song when I am sad, I will scream-sing at you if I am mad.

9. Do you like singing/humming to yourself.

Yep. Do it all the time.

10. Do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach?

Side.

11. What’s an inner joke you have with your friends?

Ha ha..... tree.

12. What’s your favorite planet?

Pluto. Pluto is family. Ohana means family. Family means no one is left behind or forgotten.

13. What’s something that made you smile today?

My little sister laughing.

14. If you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like?

Messy, art shit everywhere. Something is cooking and it smells wonderful. The walls are painted with murals, and every piece of furniture is soft and comfortable. There are so many books.

15. Go Google a weird space fact and tell us what it is!

The Milky Way smells like rum and tastes like raspberries.

16. What’s your favorite pasta dish?

Any pasta dish, except spaghetti.

17. What color do you really want to dye your hair?

All of them! But mostly rainbow right now.

18. Tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up.

Not always brought up, but my friends really like to make fun of me when I mess up grammar, considering I’m the one who normally corrects them.

19. Do you keep a journal? What do you write/draw in it?

I used to, but I don’t anymore.

20. What’s your favorite eye color?

All of them!

21. Talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces?

I don’t really have a bag like that.

22. Are you a morning person?

No. I almost always would prefer night to the morning.

23. What’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days when you have 0 obligations?

Read or write.

24. Is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?

No. Nothing against any of those people, it’s all me.

25. What’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into?

Old abandoned Marsh store.

26. What are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit?

My tennis shoes.

27. What’s your favorite gum flavor?

Peppermint!

28. Sunrise or sunset?

Both, when I’m up for sunrise.

29. What’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing?

Aven makes emoticon faces and it’s really cute!

30. Think of it: have you ever been truly scared?

Yes. A couple of times, actually. Once I thought I was in a fucking horror movie. Not fun.

31. What is your opinion of socks? Do you like wearing weird socks? Do you sleep with socks? Do you confine yourself to white sock hell? Really, just talk about socks.

Socks are awesome! I wear exclusively weird socks, none of that white sock shit. No socks when sleeping, though.

32. Tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3 am with your friends?

I only stay up to three by myself.

33. What’s your fave pastry?

Baklava!

34. Tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. What is it called? What does it look like? Do you still keep it?

There was a couple, but my favorite was Peanut Butter, a light brown teddy bear my aunt got me. And yes I do still have it.

35. Do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? Do you use them often?

No and no.

36. Which band’s sound would fit your mood right now?

Panic! At the Disco.

37. Do you like keeping your room messy or clean?

Clean

38. Tell us about your pet peeves!

Privilege.

39. What color do you wear the most?

Gray.

40. Think of a piece of jewelry you own what’s it’s story? Does it have any meaning to you?

Necklace and ring my nana gave to me. It has only meaning in the fact she got it for me. I don’t wear jewelry.

41. What’s the last book you remember really, really loving?

The Wrath and the Dawn, plus the sequel.

42. Do you have a favorite coffee shop? Describe it!

Starbucks? I don’t drink a whole lot of coffee.

43. Who was the last person you gazed at the stars with?

Myself.

44. When was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything?

Earlier today, after I finished yoga. I felt at peace.

45.Do you trust your instincts a lot?

Yes. Every time I don’t trust them, something bad happens.

46. Tell us the worst pun you can think of.

Gee, I can’t think of any. I feel super pun-intelligent.

47. What food do you think should be banned from the universe?

CELERY. FUCK IT. NO ONE SHOULD EAT IT EVER.

48. What was your biggest fear as a kid? Is it the same today?

I was afraid of the dark as a kid. Now I’m scared of heights.

49. Do you like buying CDs and records? What was the last one you bought?

No.

50. What’s an odd thing you collect?

Pop tabs.

51. Think of a person. What song do you associate with them?

I associate ‘Into the Unknown’ with my little sister since she loves the song so much.

52. What are your favorite memes of the year so far?

None. I do not seek out memes, they find me.

53. Have you ever watched the Rocky Horror Picture Show? Heathers? Beetlejuice? Pulp Fiction? What do you think of them?

No, but I love the musicals for Heathers and Beetlejuice.

54. Who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face?

My brother, when he was talking about a thing.

55. What’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point?

Almost set someone on fire.

56. What are some things you find endearing in people?

Everything. I love people.

57. Go listen to Bohemian Rhapsody. How did it make you feel? Did you dramatically reenact the lyrics?

I like the song. Nothing amazing, but I like it.

58. Who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? Why?

No one’s the wine mom, but my best friend is the vodka aunt. She is batshit crazy. (in a good way)

59. What’s your favorite myth?

Most Greek myths, but especially the story of Hades & Persephone.

60. Do you like poetry? What are some of your faves?

I am a poet, and I love Emily Dickinson. My favorite is ‘Hope is the Thing With Feathers’

61. What’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? The stupidest one you’ve ever received?

Idk what this would be. Any gifts I give or receive have meaning.

62. do you drink juice in the morning? which kind?

63. are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?

Music? No. Books? Yes. Alphabetized by author’s last name, like a library.

64: what color is the sky where you are right now?

Dark Blue

65: is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with?

My friends. D:

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like?

RAINBOW ROSES THAT MAKE ME LOOK PRETTY

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?

I feel at peace.

68: what’s winter like where you live?

Barely anything, especially compared to where I used to live.

69: what are your favorite board games?

All of them.

70: have you ever used a Ouija board?

No. Kaz don’t mess around with angry spirits.

71: what’s your favorite kind of tea?

Peppermint

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it?

Yes

73: what are some of your worst habits?

Nail biting and isolation

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns.

Sweet, gorgeous, attentive, and hard working.

75: tell us about your pets!

Kaz has no pets D:

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t?

Writing

77: pink or yellow lemonade?

Yellow

78: are you in the minion hateclub or Fan club?

I don’t hate the minions, but I certainly don’t like them.

79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?

Aven drew the Kaz Protection Squad Picture. It’s still one of my favorite things.

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color?

Off white. No

81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of.

The lightest void that shifts and shimmers

82: are/were you good in school?

83: what’s some of your favorite album art?

I like the art for Too Weird to Live, Too Rare to Die

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?

Yes. Heart on my wrist, ‘it’s okay’ on the other, ‘hetero-ever after doesn’t have to be the norm’ on the back of my calf, ‘and love is not a choice’ on my upper arm, ‘so smart’ on my inner arm, and a watercolor rainbow flag on my other upper arm.

85: do you read comics? what are your faves?

Peanuts.

86: do you like concept albums? which ones?

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives?

Coco

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy?

Surrealism

89: are you close to your parents?

Yes.

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities.

I don’t like cities. I like the country.

91: where do you plan on traveling this year?

Nowhere

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch?

The former

93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most?

Loose and messy

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday?

My dad.

95: what are your plans for this weekend?

Watch TV and YouTube

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot?

Procrastinate

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?

ISTJ-T/Logician, Taurus, Ravenclaw

98: when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it?

Forever ago. NO.

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them.

Recipe for Me, Demons, and Sober (never had a drink, just resonate with her feelings)

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why?

Future. The past needs to stay there.

#avi answers

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zologe · 7 years ago

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This makes my skin crawl

Hello there, fellow tumblrs!

I’m just gonna go out there and say this right now: I’m gonna rant about Cultural Appropriation and how stupid it is to think that it’s a hatecrime. So if you’re an SJW, just go ahead and read this, I don’t care what you think.

For starters, let’s get into who I am. I’m a white, cishet male from Sweden, with finnish and russian roots (The latter’s pretty far back though). With that out of the way, let’s get into why I think people going out and saying X Race can’t go wear Y Race’s Clothing and so on is a stupid and childish idea that should’ve been abolished long ago.

For those of you fortunate souls who have not heard of what Cultural Appropriation is, let me tell you what it means. It’s basically when members of one culture steals the traditions, foods and art from another culture and “Appropriates” it into their own. Pretty simple, yes? Well, not exactly. Because the SJW party, and anyone who really supports this idea of making it illegal is using the term wrongly, for starters. Just because I, a swedish, white man decide to dress up like a native american doesn’t mean I’m appropriating their culture. I’m not physically preventing them from wearing their clothing or practicing their beliefs. But that’s what the SJW’s want you to believe that you’re doing. In a sense, they want a sort of “Copyright” system for cultures and traditions, which is very hard to enforce.

Okay! Now you know what it is, and what it affects, let's take a look at how this would affect EVERYONE! And of course, why I think branding it as racist is the stupidest and most (ironically enough) racist fucking idea to ever grace tumblr, or whatever other places you may go to.

Let's play with the thought that for some reason this idea was accepted into an international sociey. Consuming basic things like Beer, Pasta, Thai Food and Saké etc. would be considered to be xenophobic by SJW standards, which to me is a preposterous idea. I’m not taking these away from you by eating or drinking any of it, ye? I mean, you can drink just as much Saké as I can. Now taking or placing the credit on some other culture entirely can cause problems, that I will admit. Like saying for instance that Vodka comes from Germany, when it is in fact a Russian drink, to make a ludicrus example. THAT is actual appropriation. But if I sit down, and wear something non-religious, like say a kimono or get myself some sick dreadlocks or cornrows, that’s not appropriation, as I’m not claiming or taking it away from the culture it comes from. That’s me appreciating that culture, unless I’m really making a mockery out of it, I.E Making something similiar to that of a blackface about it. Then it’s racist.

Calling cultural sharing racist is a silly notion. We’re all humans, in the end. We are all the same, regardless of where we are from, or where we go. If I wanna go dress like an ancient egyptian pharaoh for halloween, let me do so without screeching like a god damn harpy. I’m not doing it to be mean. I’m doing so because it’s a cool and creepy aesthetic which works very well for a halloween atmosphere. An ancient, mummified royal sounds pretty interesting and cool to me. I love the egyptian history, as it’s so rich and different from the culture of Surströmming (which is fucking disgusting, may I add) Kräftskivor and so on that I grew up with. Is it so wrong to reach out and try new things, if only for just a little bit? I love Thai food, I love Pasta and Babootie (That’s a south-african dish, by the way. Freaking amazing stuff. Try it out.) I’m not gonna throw a hissyfit because people wanna dress up as Vikings for some holiday or wear Thor’s hammer as a piece of Jewelry.

And don't come and say that Whites have no culture. We have a very rich culture spread across multiple countries in Europe. I've already stated a bunch of examples of white culture above. Scottish garb, beer, wine, rum, vodka, knighthood, classic fantasy, sci-fi, the foundations of your liberalist ideas come from France even for christ’s sake. The list goes on and on! And before you say that white cultures can't be appropriated, you blatantly stand by that disgusting double standard that it only applies when whites does it, and no one else. White cultures have been oppressed in the past (Sure, by other whites, but oppressed nontheless) but that doesn't mean that it doesn't exist or hasn't existed in the past. Want a current day example? Look at Ireland. It's arguably one of the most oppressed white societies in modern day. Want something less recent? Look at the Nazi Holocaust. Jews were being hunted like animals and put into slave camps. I am pretty sure that whatever oppression your race has been through, it's not been NEARLY as bad as what the jews have gone through over the millenia. And they are white... for the most part anyway. Now, if some of you out there want to adopt some scandinavian viking culture, go ahead. I'm not gonna be offended if you wanna drink mead or dress up like a lanky, black viking, or what have you. And you shouldn't be offended either when someone respectfully dresses up in your culture's clothing, or eats traditional food which has it's origins from wherever else. It's childish and stupid. You're getting angry over something that should be positive. Making the world more aware of what other cultures bring only makes us less racist. By separating cultures from oneanother, we’ll only breed more xenophobia. The less we have to do with eachother, the more we’ll start to resent oneanother. Of course, there are other causes for racist and fascist behaviours than just being separated from another culture.

But here’s a good example of how a racist mind could be born. Let’s say for instance that you live in a society where just recently some green-skinned humanoids immigrate. You’ve had absolutely zero interaction or experience with them before. And the first thing you see is one of them robbing and stabbing one of your own before running away. The Human brain likes to put things into categories, or stereotypes for easier management. That way, when you see something new, you make a new “file” which you can easily access later with information you’ve gathered regarding this paticular subject. This very fact has been proven several times in psychological studies. So after seeing this man commit this crime, you, subconsciously, start to think that perhaps all green-skinned men are somewhat into crimminal behaviour. This isn’t necessarily true, but since you have only this bit of experience with this alien race, you of course start treating them according to your experience. It’s not that hard to grasp, really.

So, the main cause for racism is indeed ignorance. Ignorance we would breed by separating us from oneanother, and only hanging out with our own. Why do you think the whites saw themselves as superior to the other races when we first met? Because our culture at that stage was more advanced and perhaps civilized due to the opportunities we’ve had, that others may have lacked. We didn’t know much about these new people and as such, we began to think that we were superior, and started bossing around with the poor blacks, which was a horrible thing to do.

If any form of Cultural Appropriation became a punishable crime worldwide, it would have the REVERSE effect of what you self-proclaimed ”Social Justice Warriors” want. Because with that, you would create “Culturally Isolated” societies, where eventually people would get racist. I get it, I get where you want this to go. A Racist-free society, yeah? Well, Racial and Cultural segregation is not the way to go. As I discussed earlier, racism is grounded in ignorance and fear of another race, which gives birth to the hate and what have you. If we shut cultures away from eachother, it would only reinforce that fear and ignorance, which is not what we want, yes? So why not open our doors instead, let people in and allow them to understand why your culture dresses up the way they do, why it's food is so significant... Our international society would be so much healthier if we could all just embrace our differences and allow anyone to partake in whatever they want, so long as it's not Physically or economically hurting someone else. I'm sorry if your feelings are hurt, but this bullshit makes my skin crawl. I hate having people tell me what I can and cannot do because of my skin color, sexual orientation or gender. And so should you.

And that's why I think treating Cultural Appropriation as racism is stupid. I don’t see any racists indulging in other cultures. Do you? Did the KKK have dreadlocks? Do white supremacists wear Burkas? NO! They pushed away that, because it belonged to a culture they hated and believed themselves to be superior to. Appropriating another culture isn’t racism. It’s preventing that racism.

#cultural appropriation #it is wrong

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stresser · 7 years ago

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i’m bored so i did this

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? cereal then milk. 2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? i’m indifferent to the feeling. 3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? toilet paper or tissues lmao, and sometimes i dog-ear the pages. 4: how do you take your coffee/tea? coffee with french vanilla creamer, tea with sugar. 5: are you self-conscious of your smile? eh. 6: do you keep plants? i have fake plants. 7: do you name your plants? no. 8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? hmm, writing. 9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? yep. 10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? side. 11: what's an inner joke you have with your friends? friends? 12: what's your favorite planet? eris, which is a dwarf planet. 13: what's something that made you smile today? playing the sims 3 pets. 14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? hardwood or concrete floors, eggshell-white walls decorated with minimalist-abstract art, open-concept living space, plants everywhere, white cabinets with wooden countertops in the kitchen, wooden beams on the ceiling, tall windows that look out onto the city. 15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! Neutron stars can spin at a rate of 600 rotations per second 16: what's your favorite pasta dish? fettuccine alfredo. 17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? right now it’s medium brown. i used to have it pink, and i’d like to switch back if it weren’t so much money and upkeep. 18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. umm... 19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? i don’t keep a journal. 20: what's your favorite eye color? brown or hazel. 21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that's been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. like a purse? i bought a michael kors purse (beige, over-the-shoulder, $150) almost three years ago that i still have and carry everywhere. it’s my only purse. 22: are you a morning person? ahha... no. 23: what's your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? sleep, play video games, bake, and write. 24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? yes. 25: what's the weirdest place you've ever broken into? my own home. 26: what are the shoes you've had for forever and wear with every single outfit? my mom’s old flipflops (used to be white, cheap, squeaky, always slip off my feet while i walk), which have somehow become mine. they’re super easy to put on when i’m in a hurry to go somewhere that doesn’t require a lot of walking. 27: what's your favorite bubblegum flavor? isn’t bubblegum a flavor? my favorite gum flavor is spearmint. 28: sunrise or sunset? sunset. 29: what's something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? it’s really cute how my friends don’t exist. 30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? yes 31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. i always lose and mismatch socks, so i typically only wear cheap white ones from wal mart. i steal my boyfriend’s socks a lot because i keep losing my own. i don’t know where they go. i also don’t have the money to just buy socks all the time, so if i bought some really cute patterned ones, i could see myself getting upset if i lost them (especially if they were expensive, like Nike, which like... how can people just have and afford Nike socks??) anyway, i can’t sleep with socks on. if i end up falling asleep without taking them off, they somehow come off in my sleep. 32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. it seems you’re under the impression that i have an extraordinarily active social life. 33: what's your fave pastry? baguettes 34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? i had a teddy bear named beary that my dog tore up when i was nine. 35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? i’m obsessed with stationary. i don’t use them i just like to look at them and organize them. 36: which band's sound would fit your mood right now? whichever one sounds like an eternal groan. 37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? i like a clean room, but sometimes i’m too lazy to clean it. 38: tell us about your pet peeves! people who are unnecessarily loud (especially in the mornings), slow walkers, people who get to skip the entire line because their friends are at the front, people who talk shit about somebody but the next day are practically arm-and-arm with the person they’d just talked shit about, people who listen to their music on speakers rather than on earbuds/headphones (see above: “unnecessarily loud”), when you’re trying to spend time with someone and they’re looking at their phone the entire time, people who dislike something just because it’s “mainstream” and they want to be an asshole, children screaming and acting like demons in public. 39: what color do you wear the most? gray or black. 40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what's it's story? does it have any meaning to you? i barely have any jewelry and what little jewelry i do have is from h&m and costs like six bucks. 41: what's the last book you remember really, really loving? i don’t read a lot but i remember reading jellicoe road for summer reading in tenth grade, and i was really surprised because it was actually quite good. 42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! the best coffee shop i’ve ever been to is intellegiencia in downtown chicago. 43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? my boyfriend, probably? i don’t remember. 44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? umm??? 45: do you trust your instincts a lot? yes. 46: tell us the worst pun you can think of. not a pun: i used to like puns but people are overusing them to an extreme so now i can’t fucking stand them lol. 47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? sprouts. they’re like the pubes of nature. 48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? the dark, and although i’m still perpetually afraid of the dark, i have a bigger fear of heights. 49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? no, not really. the last cd i bought was probably when i was nine. 50: what's an odd thing you collect? stress. 51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them? can’t think of anything. 52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far? “sometimes things that are expensive..... are worse.” 53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? i’ve watched heathers and beetlejuice in their entirety. i like them both but i have to be in a certain type of mood for them because they’re also a little weird. i’ve only seen the first part of pulp fiction because for some reason i keep falling asleep in that movie, lol. 54: who's the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? uhh?? 55: what's the most dramatic thing you've ever done to prove a point? i can’t think of anything right now but i don’t doubt that i’ve done something dramatic to prove a point. 56: what are some things you find endearing in people? i like when people are comfortable to be themselves and talk about themselves. i like being around people who don’t judge others. 57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? i’m sorry but i’m not listening to that song rn lol. 58: who's the wine mom and who's the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? i’m both 59: what's your favorite myth? the only one i can think of is from greek mythology where this man was transformed into a woman and then back into a man and then zeus and hera asked him/her which gender enjoyed sex more and the man/woman/man said the woman enjoyed it more so hera cursed him. lmfao it’s so obvious that a man wrote this myth, isn’t it? 60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? poetry is meh. 61: what's the stupidest gift you've ever given? the stupidest one you've ever received? i just gave my boyfriend a chess set except the chess pieces are shot glasses for his twenty-first birthday. the stupidest gift i’ve ever received... uhh, idk. 62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? no. 63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? leave them be. 64: what color is the sky where you are right now? dark. it’s... holy shit it’s 5am. 65: is there anyone you haven't seen in a long time who you'd love to hang out with? my grandma. 66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? nonexistent. 67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? depends where i am. inside: i’m okay. outside, walking to class: gloomy, irritable, and tired. 68: what's winter like where you live? like summer. 69: what are your favorite board games? life, probably, because it doesn’t take too long. 70: have you ever used a ouija board? no. 71: what's your favorite kind of tea? sweet. 72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you'll forget it? for the most part, yeah. 73: what are some of your worst habits? biting my nails, eating too many carbs, not texting people back and isolating myself. 74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. how ‘bout this: no. 75: tell us about your pets! i have a palomino bunny who is a little over one year old and his name is bean. he’s very sociable but he sheds so much. i bought him from a rescue center three hours away last year. i also have a gray and white kitten who is three or four months old and her name is matilda. she’s very floppy and hyper. my mom found her in her backyard in the middle of the night and i decided to just keep her. 76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren't? sleeping! 77: pink or yellow lemonade? pink. 78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? hateclub! 79: what's one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? i once pointed to this really expensive perfume in sephora and said it was my favorite scent but i’ve never owned it before. my boyfriend went back and bought it and gifted it to me for our anniversary. 80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? beige, and no, i didn’t choose them; my landlord did, i guess. 81: describe one of your friend's eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. my boyfriend’s eyes: they’re like two hot cups of tea, swimming with honey and sugar, set beneath the window of a bright yet chilly morning. 82: are/were you good in school? i used to be good in high school but i’m hopeless in college. 83: what's some of your favorite album art? ??? 84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? i used to think that i wanted tattoos but then i realized how much it cost to get one. 85: do you read comics? what are your faves? no 86: do you like concept albums? which ones? no? i think? 87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? star wars (episodes iv-vi), titanic, the princess bride, batman: the dark knight. 88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? not really. 89: are you close to your parents? not really. 90: talk about your one of you favorite cities. i haven’t been to very many places but i loved fort myers, florida. there seemed to be so much to do around that area, and it was warm even in december. 91: where do you plan on traveling this year? playa del carmen, mexico. 92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? drowns pasta in cheese. 93: what's the hairstyle you wear the most? “oops i forgot to brush my hair this morning after i got out of the shower and it’s still wet” 94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday? my bf 95: what are your plans for this weekend? go grocery shopping 96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? procrastinate 97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? istp, gemini, slytherin 98: when's the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it? about three months ago my family and i tried to hike up a mountain in june, but the trail was over three miles long so many of us quit halfway and headed back to the cars. 99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. n/a 100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? the past, because i want to enjoy being a kid again

#personal #me #september 10 2017

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