#it's a mindset that you may be completely unaware of until you really think about it

[krskrash]

[ratboi24601]

Let’s Talk About Socialization

Disclaimer: I’m going to be speaking in very binary terms here for the purposes of concision. None of these experiences are inherant or exclusive to the groups I am attributing them to. I am using “trans man” and “trans woman” bc I think i when transmasc or transfemme are treated as generalizations they are treated as Gospel and Always True in Every case, so I am using terms that are more explicitly exclusionary to show I am not trying to show the entire scope. There is lots of room for nuance and intersectionality here- it strengthens my points, it does not weaken them. We are using a simplified model- assume any simplification or false binary was done with full awareness of the exceptions. Feel free to talk about said exceptions and their implications, just don’t act like I’m creating a false binary I am fully aware of just how much I am leaving out.

Also we’re not oppression olympicing here. Experiences are distinct, I refuse to argue about which ones are “objectively worse”

Let’s say we have an adult in their 20s. They have been making some realizations about their behavior, and after some research, discovered they have autism (with however method you, dear reader, would consider Valid). They did not grow up believing themselves to be autistic, but they always were. It irrevocably affected they way they were treated and they way they saw themselves. It likely affected their treatment and self-perception in a way that is explicitly distinct from someone who was diagnosed as a child. Just because they were perceived and perceived themselves as an allistic child does not mean they experienced the world that way. However, they likely grew up with biases and behaviors that were harmful. In addition to their internalized ableism, they also likely grew up with ableism (conscious or unconscious) directed at both other disabilities and autistic people- specifically the autistic people that were diagnosed as children. Prior to realizations regarding that autism, they may have been completely unaware of or uninvolved with disability or autism community or activism or other autistic voices. They did not magically lose those biases upon diagnosis. They still need to unlearn harmful ways of thinking and knowing they are autistic does not make them now incapable of harming disabled people in general or autistic people in specific. The time taken prior gave them inherently different experiences from both people who were not in their group and people who knew they were in the group sooner.

If you read the title or noticed the disclaimer you might realize this phenomenon is not exclusive to autism. In fact, these complexities are ones you will see in many places: anywhere you see a marginalization that people learn about later in life, there are undeniable affects and biases that come from not knowing and not being treated as such. There is also crossover with marginalization that people don’t develop until later in life but we’re focused on affect on growing up so will set that aside for our purposes.

Now let’s talk about trans people. Specifically trans women. It is a common T/ERF talking point that trans women are “male socialized” and so have male privilege. It is a common rebuttal that trans women are often targeted for deviance before anyone knows their identities and even if they’re not when you know something is different about you even if you don’t realize it’s that your a woman the mindset of being better given to boys doesn’t really work like that. This is true. This means trans women have different experiences from cis men and don’t get “male socialized” the same. But that doesn’t mean they never collected any biases, towards women or trans people. That doesn’t mean realizing their trans suddenly sheds them of any biases or harm they might have picked up. And more importantly, that doesn’t mean saying how someone was socialized affects them and their own self worth now is inherently T/ERF ideology, because that growing up being out grouped does affect trans women differently from cis women! It is not inherently a privilege, it’s a different experience.

Now let’s talk about trans men. There is a false idea that the experiences of trans men are always the inverse of the experiences of trans women. This is not the case. Under this perception, “trans women aren’t ‘male socialized’ bc most knew something was wrong and men are better things didn’t apply to them” means “trans men aren’t ‘female socialized’ bc most knew something was wrong and women are worse things didn’t apply to them.” That is not the case. When you are raised being told to be quiet because you are a woman be afraid because you are a woman and all the other internalized misogyny, the “because you are a woman” is often implicit. Even if you grow up knowing you are a man and not telling anyway, the internalization from this does not go away. Realizing you’re a man later does not suddenly make this go away. Often, instead what happens is you see women empowerment things. You see “you are amazing because you are a woman #girlboss.” These are made to contrast the other societal messaging. If you realize you’re a trans man before you see these, then you do not get them. They cannot apply to you, and you are left alone. If you realize after, then you are actively giving up that empowerment. I could make a much longer post on how much women are better empowerment feminism hurts trans men’s ability to come out, but it does. Either way, the result is the same. The self-hatred and self-silencing you were told to hold is no longer tied to womanhood in your mind. It may never have been. The empowerment designed to combat it actively cannot apply to you. You are alone.

It is important to talk about these things. It is important to talk about socialization. If all concepts of socialization are dismissed as a T/ERF talking point, a lot of very real experiences that hold a lot of significance for patterns and behavior get swept under the rug, and a lot of the connections between us get ignored.

End disclaimer: Stuff like race, being intersex, etc absolutely adds layers here that I do not have the expertise to talk about and I would love to hear people from other perspectives talk about that. Additionally, socialization is all about culture, and therefore varies with cultural differences.

[mouisorange]

☰ Yandere Personality Types  〔Big Five〕

☰ Overview

〔Disclaimer〕 Yandere behavior and mindsets are not healthy, nor should they be sought after: this is just meant to be a fun way to analyze characters and see/understand how they may fit into this specific genre of fictional horror. 

This personality ‘assessment’ was inspired by @ddarker-dreams​‘s ‘Yandere MBTI’ as I adore their writing and have always thought that their MBTI assessment is really cool! I also noticed how other people enjoy it so I thought I would make my own assessment, though mine is inspired by the ‘Big Five Personality Traits’. I even tried to be creative and add in the little circles that you can find on the actual Big Five assessment too (which is 100% free btw!). I don’t really think I did the Big Five assessment justice, and I think that a lot more goes into the complexities around this kinda thing, but hopefully this is somewhat interesting!

If you have your own thoughts or even wanna try this out, 100% feel free to use or talk to me about it! Check it out below the cut!

☰  OPEN   •  •  •  •  •  CLOSED 

〔Open〕 yanderes are blatant about their obsession. They do not try and hide it either because they believe it’s meant to be, because they’re too deep in their delusions to understand that it might be a good idea to keep their mouth shut, or simply because they’re in a position to not care about hiding their interest. Usually, this type of yandere is either seen as somewhat of a ‘lovesick puppy’ or a powerful character; though, being a ‘lovesick puppy’ doesn’t necessarily mean kind or affectionate. Whether it was ‘love at first sight’ or more of a slow-burn, these characters usually roll with their feelings with little to no hesitation. Situations with this type of yandere usually include darlings who are unaware of the yandere’s emotions (or even their existence) until they’re suddenly confronted, kidnapped, or confessed to seemingly out of the blue. 

examples︙Anasui 〔 jjba. Stone Ocean〕,  Diavolo & Doppio 〔 jjba. Golden Wind〕, Pina 〔Beastars〕, & Zeke Yeagar 〔Attack on Titan〕.

〔Closed〕 yanderes try to hide their obsessive mindset or behaviors. While they might not always be successful at hiding their interest, closed yandere types are either ashamed/embarrassed by their feelings or are frustrated by them in some way. Usually this type of yandere will ignore/avoid their darling in hopes of losing their feelings, or pretend their feelings don’t exist. This type of yandere is either upset at themselves for having these feelings or upset at their darling for ‘making’ them feel that way. Darling can possibly see their behavior coming and try to avoid the character, but this type of yandere is likely to ‘snap’ at some point and somehow corner their darling as an attempt at controlling their obsession or feelings (though, sometimes this is just the yandere trying to excuse their behavior).

examples︙Avdol〔jjba. SDC〕, Legoshi 〔Beastars〕, Alucard 〔Castlevania〕, & Klaus Hargreeves 〔The Umbrella Academy〕.

☰ Questions to consider when categorizing a yandere

〔 ⅰ. 〕 How does their behavior shift when they realize they’re obsessed?

〔 ⅱ. 〕 What are their opinions on their darling? Does this character adore them? Do they blame darling for their behavior (if so, are they angry about it)?

〔 ⅲ. 〕 How comfortable is this yandere with their feelings and/or actions in regards to their darling?

☰  CASUAL  •  •  •  •  •  DIRECT

〔Casual〕 yanderes do not actively pursue their darling. This type of character is typically laid-back. They either believe that darling will inevitably fall ‘into line’ or is mellow enough to be content with simply being in darling’s life. Casual yanderes are either delusional or are not possessive enough to want more than close friendship from their darling. Though it usually takes a specific type of character for this, some yanderes here believe that they’re already in a relationship with their darling and therefore feel no need to chase after them. This kind of character can confuse their darling, and make it more difficult to get away, as their behavior can be waived off if the character is perceived as harmless, gains darling’s sympathy in some way, or otherwise is not vocal about their delusional thinking/is charming enough to convince darling to just go along with it. Some of these characters are willing to let go if darling catches on early enough, though most will just slowly follow behind regardless of what darling does (though this behavior/these reactions will definitely vary/be different depending on the character).  

examples︙ Mista 〔jjba. Golden Wind〕, Luther Hargreeves 〔The Umbrella Academy〕, Connie Springer 〔Attack on Titan〕, & Cater Diamond 〔Twisted Wonderland〕.   

〔Direct〕 yanderes, as their name suggests, directly or actively pursue their darling. Usually strict or over-bearing, these characters actively chase after their darling’s affections (or otherwise whatever goal relationship the yandere wants). This yandere makes organized, sometimes step by step, plans in order to achieve their goal. It depends on the character whether they get angry when plans have to be changed or if they just shift their angle, however, these characters are focused and will not be discouraged should darling fight against their plans. If anything, some of these characters will be encouraged by their darling fighting back for various reasons (for example, if they’re delusional or just thing it’s a part of the whole ‘chase’ thing/enjoy it). These characters will almost never give up on their darling regardless of what happens.

examples︙ Giorno Giovanna 〔jjba. Golden Wind〕, Armin Arlert 〔Attack on Titan〕, Rook Hunt 〔Twisted Wonderland〕, & Jason Todd 〔DC Comics〕. 

☰ Questions to consider when categorizing a yandere

〔 ⅰ. 〕 How goal-oriented is this character, especially when it comes to their darling? 

〔 ⅱ. 〕 How lenient is this character? Are they trying to force a bee-line to a relationship with their darling or are they willing to play the long game?

〔 ⅲ. 〕 Is this character organizing a plan in order to achieve their goal(s)? Or are they completely winging it? If they’re winging it, are they just hoping that everything will naturally fall into place, or do they genuinely believe it’s fated to happen?

☰  DISCREET  •  •  •  •  •  INTENSE

〔Discreet〕 yanderes either do not have overly strong yandere behaviors or are able to hide said traits enough to be seen as ‘normal’. These characters will usually hide their behavior, regardless of the reasons, in order to have a normal relationship with their darling. While similar to closed character types, discreet yanderes differ in the sense that they usually do not struggle to hide their behavior, and will slowly (or suddenly, depending on the situation, one situation being kidnapping) merge this persona with their actual personality so that darling has no reason to want to leave. While not all characters within this category are fully aware of their behavior, most are intentionally manipulative and have some kind of end goal. They’re not ashamed of this mindset as they believe their reasons (such as “protecting” darling from something) excuse any tears that their darling might shed directly because of this yandere’s actions later on in the ‘relationship’. The period between “normal” and whatever end goal will vary based on the character. This type’s darling can have friends, and even other relationships to an extent (though this does vary), they’ll usually end up reaching the yandere’s goal without knowing about their behavior up until it’s too late to do anything about it. 

examples︙ Risotto Nero 〔jjba. Golden Wind〕, Louis 〔Beastars〕, Lilia Vanrouge 〔Twisted Wonderland〕, &  Sinbad 〔Magi〕. 

〔Intense〕 yanderes can be defined by their possessiveness, or otherwise intense behavior/mindset/emotions. This type of yandere will usually want to either isolate or monopolize their darling’s time in it’s entirety. While the character might not isolate themselves, they’ll do what they can in order to ensure that their darling is focused solely on them (or whatever goal yandere has in mind). Intense yanderes tend to come off as over-bearing or as harassers/bullies. Depending on their other traits, they will either direct their focus on getting other people away from darling or direct their focus on somehow getting darling away from other people (usually involving kidnapping or isolating them in their home). These characters have a tendency to be either cruel or manipulative and darling might believe that their yandere hates them in some way, even if the character says otherwise. 

examples︙ Illuso 〔jjba. Golden Wind〕, Melon 〔Beastars〕, Kouen Ren 〔Magi〕, & Leona Kingscholar 〔Twisted Wonderland〕.

☰ Questions to consider when categorizing a yandere

〔 ⅰ. 〕 How well would this character take rejection? Do they try and rationalize the rejection or do they just accept it (even taking whatever darling said to heart)?

〔 ⅱ. 〕 Can this character handle their darling having friendships? How do they react to darling spending periods of time without them? 

〔 ⅲ. 〕 Does this yandere need (or want?) to spend every waking (and sleeping) moment with darling? If so, what is time spent with this yandere like? 

☰  AGREEABLE  •  •  •  •  •  CONTROLLING

〔Agreeable〕 yanderes seem to genuinely care about their darling and see their darling as a breathing person with their own thoughts/feelings. These characters put their darling before themselves, sometimes going as far as seeing them as someone to worship or put on a pedestal, and believe that darling is better than them in some way. In some cases, they see darling as being unable to do anything wrong (to an extent). They’re willing to debate rights or loosen rules/chains (if they even decided to do chain darling in the first place) with darling and are willing to listen to what they have to say. This yandere’s end goal usually involves some kind of genuine relationship, regardless of how delusional that might be. 

examples︙ Haru 〔Beastars〕, Floch Forster 〔Attack on Titan〕, Tim Drake 〔DC Comics〕, & Vanya Hargreeves 〔The Umbrella Academy〕.

〔Controlling〕 yanderes do not view their darling as equal, either seeing them as childish (in the sense that they don’t understand things or can’t), seeing them as some kind of pet/trophy, or somewhere in-between. They usually do not care about their darling’s thoughts, feelings, or general well-being. Usually the only thing this yandere cares about is controlling their darling, the connection they have to their darling is the only important thing when it comes to darling as a person. Some of these characters even go as far as not minding if darling dies as long as they still view darling as being theirs (example being, if prince charming kept his princess asleep in order to keep princess to himself). While end goals will vary from yandere to yandere, those in this category typically don’t care how darling feels as long as they’re getting what they want from darling. 

examples︙ Kars 〔jjba. Battle Tendency〕, Judar 〔Magi〕, Cioccolata 〔jjba. Golden Wind〕, &  Diavolo 〔 jjba. Golden Wind〕.

☰ Questions to consider when categorizing a yandere

〔 ⅰ. 〕 Does this yandere view darling as a human with their own thoughts/feelings or is darling more of a possession/plaything? 

〔 ⅱ. 〕 Is darling’s mental or physical well-being important to this character? 

〔 ⅲ. 〕 How many rights does darling have and how quickly are said rights taken away/given back? Are they ever given back? What are the yandere’s motives in taking/giving these rights?

☰  RESILIENT  •  •  •  •  •  FRAGILE

〔Resilient〕 yanderes will almost never become discouraged. They’re confident in the sense that they know they’ll eventually achieve their goal. This type of character is willing to spend years trying to either break down their darling or otherwise induce a sort of ‘Stockholm syndrome’. Characters who heavily stalk their darling tend to fall into this category. More so, resilient yanderes are not likely to have any sort of breakdown over their darling, regardless of the situation. They’re strong in their thought process, and are not willing to change their mind-set/behavior towards their darling (or anyone else).

examples︙ Ibuki 〔Beastars〕, Bruno Bucciarati 〔jjba. Golden Wind〕,   Jade Leech 〔Twisted Wonderland〕, & Shigaraki Tomura 〔My Hero Academia 〕.

〔Fragile〕 yanderes, as their name suggests, are ‘fragile’ in their goals or mind-set. Usually this type of yandere is either meek or feel overly guilty about their mind-set/behaviors. These characters can be easily swayed by their darling in some way, and they can get distracted from their end-goal if darling plays their cards right. More adoring, worshipper yanderes tend to fall in this category. Characters here usually do not like upsetting their darling and (at times) are desperate for their darling’s approval. While not an inherently manipulative category, fragile yanderes will use methods like gaslighting in order to avoid any kind of confrontation.

examples︙ Pesci 〔jjba. Golden Wind〕, Allison Hargreeves 〔The Umbrella Academy〕, Jack 〔Beastars〕, & Niccolo 〔Attack on Titan〕. 

☰ Questions to consider when categorizing a yandere

〔 ⅰ. 〕 How emotional/insecure is this character? 

〔 ⅱ. 〕 Is this character confrontational, or would they rather avoid any kind of confrontation by whatever means necessary (such as gaslighting or blackmailing others in the situation)? 

〔 ⅲ. 〕 How patient are they? How long are they willing to wait and/or bide their time in order to achieve some sort of goal?

﹝☼﹞

[lokiskitten]

Request for @brat-blog-2 !!

Loki Laufeyson | dark obsession

Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader

plot : after Loki takes over Asgard and becomes king, he is now finally able to tear you away from his brother’s grip, before deciding to make you pay for it.

warnings : cursing, degrading, physical abuse, mental abuse, biting, none/co, smut, unprotected sex, physical manipulation, lack of after care.

PLEASE, this imagine contains NONE/CO. Do not read it if it’s a subject that you’re uninterested/sensitive with. All irrelevant comments will be deleted. Now, to all the people that are willing to read, enjoy! :D

Groans exit your lips as you were forcefully dragged all the way up to Odin’s throne, which had now unfortunately become Loki’s- and that against everyone’s will. Most of the Asgardians had decided to submit to their new savior, however you decided not to take part in this petty move and remain faithful to the people you believe deserved it, such as Thor or Odin. Unfortunately, this attitude easily led you to get in trouble with the king and his surroundings, remaining unaware that Loki had been obsessing over you for a while now which allowed you to avoid great moments of anxiety. But now, you had just gotten caught, and escaping felt absolutely impossible.

The guards’ grip tightened around your fragile arms as they forced you on your knees before Loki’s sat silhouette, wishing to avoid accidentally letting you go which would’ve risked to annoy their king. The raven haired man’s green eyes looked down at you, smirk appearing onto his devilish lips as you progressively started to feel more and more uncomfortable about his intense stare. Thankfully, hatred managed to drag you out of this shame hole, giving you strength to stand up face to this man who claimed to be your king though he truly was nowhere near reaching this rank. “Ah, at last. You almost made me wait.” He spoke, raspy voice echoing through the large room. And as you continued to physically and mentally struggle, Loki carried on talking.

“You gave me a really hard time, in fact.” He explained, causing you to cringe as you truly did not look forward to discovering the double meaning hiding behind this creepy sentence. Getting up from where he had been sitting, the man accepted to remove his horns before taking a couple of steps down the luxurious throne which once belonged to his adoptive father. Watching him near you stroke another shockwave of hatred through your body, head looking up as you were no longer fighting the guards grip- or at least not physically. “Tell me... Why keep fighting it? All you have to do is give in. Forget about the past, and become my queen.” He purred, though you felt nowhere near softened by his devilish words.

“You are not king.” The words escaped your lips like the purest yet sneakiest venom. Hearing this sentence, Loki groaned and turned around in order to refrain from allowing his anger to take over his calm yet frustrated mindset. “I’m a better king than you’ve ever known.” Loki spoke lowly, hand forming a fist in anticipation of your next, surely offensive, answer. “You are nothing compared to your brother!” You dared to affirm, head dangerously moving closer to his silhouette through the words’ hatred. This sentence crossed a line which probably should’ve been kept intact, easily leading Loki to unleash his anger out on your left cheek. The back of his hand collided with your face as he turned around in a fast manner, your head and upper body propelled backwards due to the imminent shock you had just received.

A small wince escape your lips, Loki’s silhouette now hovering above yours as the guards took a step back in order to leave some space for their king to outburst. “I am ten times the king he will ever be, you little quim! And you’re just a fool for believing otherwise.” Progressively, his tone lowered, entire being calming down as his hand travelled to your bruised cheek. “I could show you a good time... and that only if you agree to give in.” The young man proposed, though the physical contact was soon broken by your strong attitude. Shaking your head in an attempt to make his hand back away from your face, a sigh escaping Loki’s lips as he seemingly agreed to take a step back and watch your pathetic self struggle helplessly.

“Alright. Have it your own way then.” He affirmed, green eyes drifting up to his guards, a move which was accompanied by a simple nod of his head. Instantly, your arms were trapped by their palms, body dragged away towards god knew where whilst Loki frustratedly made his way back to the throne. Screams exited your lips as you had completely gave up on any form of dignity, though it wasn’t as if Loki hadn’t proceeded to completely steal it from you barely a couple of seconds ago.

[...]

After spending the rest of your day locked away in the dungeons, body sitting down against the wall whilst trying to contain it’s need of food and water, an unexpected visit occurred. Before you could even tell, Loki turned out to be standing before your quivering frame, refraining from making physical contact with you as he simply waited for the moment where you would finally notice his presence. Barely looking up, you decided to offer him no form of attention as you knew that it was something that made his blood boil. “It would be foolish to ignore my presence.” Loki explained, kneeling before your folded self. Your face looked away, jaw clenching in an upset and painful manner.

Seeing how you seemingly weren’t willing to properly cooperate, the demigod rose from the floor and made his way towards your bed which had graciously been gifted by the dungeons services. He sat down, legs remaining spread as his bulge pressed against the elastic fabric of his suit. Finally agreeing to look up, a blush spread over your cheeks when you made eye contact with the man who was now your king. Gasping uncomfortably, your hands immediately decided to push down the fabric of your dress in order to hide the leftovers of flesh which weren’t covered by the thin piece of fabric. Even with the attitude your carried, your instincts forced you to go humble face to the threat of male gaze.

“If I may, I think you look alluring alluring.” Loki confessed, green eyes moving up from your body to your face. It didn’t take long for you to understand the man’s intention- like a doe being preyed by a dangerous cheetah in the mountains. Noticing that the door had been left unlocked since the king remained in your cell, you decided to attempt the impossible by getting up to your feet and rushing towards the exit. Unfortunately, and quite unexpectedly, Loki’s silhouette summoned before you could reach the see through wall, stopping you in your track. Thankfully, this vision was nothing but a clone yet which still successfully managed to make you back away in fear as your eyes stared straight into his smirking features.

Your feet bumped against the edge of the bed, making you fall back as the real Loki got up right in time to avoid your silhouette. The demigod joined his clone with a chuckle, both of them looking down at you in amusement as your troubled mind couldn’t manage to figure out who the real Loki was. The only object which turned out to be in your reach was a book, and your hand didn’t waste any time before taking a firm hold of it in order to throw it at your abuser. Unfortunately, you couldn’t seem to tell which one of them was real- and seeing how you had one chance out of two to miss, your brain took a decision rather quickly... but unfortunately, it didn’t turn out to be efficient. The book passed straight through the projected figure of Loki, landing onto the floor shortly before the clone faded away from your sight.

A disappointed sigh escaped Loki’s lips as your eyes stared at his face in fear. “That was audacious. It’s a shame that your instincts decided to lead you towards the wrong path.” The king affirmed before taking ahold of your ankles, easily managing to get on top of your fragile self. You squirmed, head tilting back as you wrists were now trapped by his strong hold. “Can’t you see that I want you. I need you, my dear.” Loki confessed roughly, face buried against your neck as he kept on kissing and licking your warm flesh. You exhaled loudly, refraining from moaning as this unwanted gesture would’ve only encouraged the madman through his acts.

Soon enough, your mind and body both agreed that it was time for you to stop fighting it, arms helplessly laying beside your head as the demigod continued to do whatever he wished of your body. Thankfully, emptying the rest of the cells had been one of the first things that Loki did shortly after becoming king- which offered you both complete privacy. His hand roamed your clothed waist, the other one taking a rough hold of your breast he’s seemingly been wishing to touch for a long time now. You could feel his teeth biting at your jawline, probably creating bruises which you wouldn’t get to see until the moment you’d be free from his grip and facing your own reflection in the mirror.

Almost carefully, Loki sat you up before pulling your dress over your body, naked silhouette now exposed to his sight as you had never felt more vulnerable in your whole entire life. Soon enough, he decided that it was your turn to return the gesture, limbs falling back besides his own body as a smile appeared on his face. “Undress me.” Loki demanded calmly, green orbs looking at your scared self as he admired the way you still found the strength to fight the situation. Carefully, his hand traveled up to your chest, index and middle finger pressing against your sternum as his facial expressions were now stern. “Undress me.” Loki repeated, green mist swirling around his fingers and magically penetrating through your skin.

Nearly instantly, your brain was intoxicated with the painful grip which was Loki’s magic. Forced to obey, your hands moved up to his shoulders as you started to remove his first layers of clothing. Surprisingly enough, and as difficult to figure out as his suit could be, you managed to remove the layers of clothes as if you’ve been doing this for your entire life. Though, even if you obeyed his orders and successfully managed to undress the demigod, your soul remained empty from any forms of emotions- which was soon to become a dislike for the unamused god of mischief.

The man now sat shirtless face to your naked self, magic exiting your body as he forcefully laid you back down against the rough sheets. It felt as if you had just awoken from a dream, eyes blinking curiously as you barely managed to understand what was going on around yourself nor properly get back into reality. All you could feel were Loki’s hand on you as his clothed crotch pressed against your bare one, happy grunts and hungry moans escaping his lips as he let his lust out on the skin of your neck. His boner was undeniable, and your scent penetrating through his nostrils only managed to make it swell even harder as it prepared for the upcoming penetration.

On another hand, you turned out to have a hard time getting any wet, as the thought of having to submit to his demands made you feel sick in your stomach. However, nature was soon to take over as the feeling of his crotch against yours uncontrollably caused your genitals to throb and moisten- preparing for intercourse just like Loki’s. His head moved down to your chest, lips easily wrapping around your nipple which he religiously suckled on. Your eyelids shut close in order to avoid paying too much attention to the multiple sensations going through your body at the moment, though it was becoming harder and harder seeing how Loki truly didn’t help.

Climbing back to your face, both of your crotches aligned again as his hand moved down in order to lazily pull his own pants down, and that just enough for his member to be set free. A wince escaped his lips due to the friction the movement managed to create for his cock to enjoy, warm tip colliding with your clit as Loki took a couple of seconds to blindly align his length with your slightly moist entrance. His lips pressed against yours as his warm member slid inside of your core, a loud yet deep and creepy moan escaping his lips as his bare stomach collided with your skin.

Never once you believed ending up having to submit to such an act in your life, and yet here you were : laying down in the arms of a man you were meant to despise. However, the intercourse technically remained none consensual. As soon as he had reached balls deep, the demigod took a couple of seconds to catch his breath as this first sexual contact was visibly sending him head over heels. At least, one of you was having fun. You adjusted the position of your legs against the bed, leading Loki to do same as you could feel his stomach bulge every time he breathed in. “Fuck, my darling... you know how to make your king happy.” The man praised with a grin before starting to thrust in and out of your entrance.

A gentle hiss exited your closed mouth as Loki allowed multiple winces to escape his parted lips, his head tilting back in pleasure whilst your breasts bounced generously every time his balls collided with your ass. Once in a while, you noticed that the god of mischief would stop and enjoy some cosy time inside of your warm and soaked self as he caught his breath, hand always pressed against your cheek as he either kissed you or stared right into your eyes. Then, he would begin to thrust again and allow more frustrated groans to escape his lips as his body took care of slowly building up it’s owner’s climax.

His mouvements were soon to become sloppier, betraying the undeniable fact that your partner was soon going to release his semen against your cervix. Of course, from where you patiently laid, you couldn’t help but apprehend this moment as your worst fear was for him to cum inside of you and cause a pregnancy you did not want to occur. Finally, a moan escaped the man’s lips as he paused inside of you, the lower part of his shaft moving in waves as his scrotum throbbed and twitched. Your greatest fear had just come to reality as you could sense the thick and warm liquid stain your walls, grin appearing on Loki’s seemingly satisfied face.

“Oh my lord.. that felt so nice. I’m afraid I couldn’t thank you enough.” He confessed whilst looking down at you, shortly after managing to wash away his orgasm. Pulling out of you and causing a sudden emptiness to take over your stretched pussy, a couple of more droplets of white semen leaked out of his tip which he made sure to wipe off against your sensitive clit. Your jaw clenched as you tried your best to remain calm though your heart was rushing due to your ovaries receiving the needed ingredient to produce a living being. “I can’t wait for you to give birth to my heir.” He affirmed, sat down on the edge of the bed as he lazily pulled his pants back up.

This sentence was enough to pull you out of your daytime nightmares only to dip you into a worse one, eyes filled with fear and hatred staring up at him in a determined manner. A dark chuckle escaped Loki’s lips as he seemed to appreciate your reaction, feeling amused by behaving as if he didn’t know that was something you wouldn’t enjoy. Mental torture was in fact his favorite. “But don’t you worry my darling, I will make sure to find time through my many duties in order to visit you often.” The demigod added, confirming the fact that you probably wouldn’t get to leave this cell until your pregnancy was led to term.

Sorry for being so inactive! Here’s an imagine I hope y’all can enjoy. Unfortunately, I think I’ve been shadowbanned. ( @delightfulheartdream )

[thefanficmonster]

Phone Call Anxiety

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When wanting to make quality merch, one needs a quality team there to produce and work on quality ideas. Great minds think alike. Great eyes see alike and great hands make alike - the three keys to the formula of creating a clothing line that will be fashionable and up to his brand. Luckily, Corpse knows just who to call.

Requested by Anon. Hi hun! Thank you so much for your wonderful request, I absolutely loved the idea! Sorry you’ve had to wait for it to be turned into a fic for so long, but I still hope you come across it and give it a read in which case I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

He’s not a fan of phone calls. Anyone who knows him even remotely is very well informed on Corpse’s distaste for phone calls and upholding a conversation over the phone. He’d even go as far as to say talking to a person face to face is less stressful for him than that previous option.

But still, seeing as how the person he’s trying to reach lives in a different state and is rather busy all the time, arranging an IRL meeting is basically impossible at the moment, and sending her a text results in running the risk of having the text overlooked or completely lost in the sea of notifications she probably gets on the daily.

Therefore, a phone call was his only proper way of reaching her. And it’s what’s got him pacing the room with his nervousness peaking.  He doesn’t know anything about this girl, nothing concrete at least. He was referred to her by Jack who brought her up in their passing conversation when Corpse mentioned how paranoid he was regarding his upcoming merch project. He specifically stated he doesn’t want anything basic and he wants the clothes to be fashionable, suitable for anyone no matter the age or gender and to be endurable. With all the love he has for his fans, he doesn’t want to give them anything less than what they deserve - the best.

“My friend’s the person you’re looking for.“ Jack said enthusiastically and confidently, “She helped me design the latest merch line I put out and I’ve never been more satisfied with my own merch. I’m planning on offering her a position in Cloak for her birthday. Make sure not to let that one slip out if you give her a call though.“ He warned half-jokingly. 

Bottom line, with that kind of intro, Corpse couldn’t help but let his interest be piqued. And so, he asked for this girl - Y/N’s contact info from Jack before he went to surf through her social media where she thankfully posted plenty of pictures of her creations, never failing to mention specifications in the caption of each picture so the viewers would get the perfect and most detailed idea of how high the standard for her work is.

And so he’s finally managed to talk himself into dialing her number that’s been sitting in his phone for weeks now. As he paces his living room, his nerves chewing him out like a dog would with a toy, listening to the ear piercing ring of the dial waiting to get picked up by the girl he’s trying to reach. 

Just then, Corpse’s head turns so that his eyes meet the glowing red numbers on his digital clock on his desk and he damn near hangs up the call right away - it’s half an hour past midnight. Fast as lightning, he removes the phone from his ear, his thumb flying over to press the red ‘end call’ button. Just then, a faint ‘hello’ reaches his ears, coming from the phone’s speaker. She’s answered the call.

He hurries to put the phone back up to his ear.

“Hey, sorry for taking so long to pick up, I ought to clean my desk eventually cause my phone was literally BURIED under a pile of papers.“ A cheerful sing-song voice rattles his stale and sleep deprived consciousness, as if awakening him from a half-dream state. “You’re either a wrong number caller or a last minute client, aren’t you? Need something done urgently?“

Corpse is taken the hell aback by her strong and downright awing first impression. Not to mention her energy at an hour unsuitable for calls. Lord knows he wouldn’t have picked up if her were in her spot. With the intention of not wasting any more of her time than necessary, he hurries to explain his situation. “Y/N, right? Um no, I’m neither actually. I was told about you by a friend, he said you were a real miracle-doer with fashion design.” He trails off for a second, not completely sure of how to hold this conversation, “Uh, sorry for the odd timed call, I lost track of time. I’ve been meaning to call you for hours now but I...I was nervous.” He cringes the second the word leaves his lips, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He doesn’t know why he wants to leave her with a great, better than realistic impression of himself but he does and as of now he deems his attempts as ultimate failures.

He hears her giggle from her end, rifling through what sounds to be papers, “Yeah, I’m her. And boy is it refreshing to get someone who’s calling with an actual purpose.” She sighs as if a weight’s been lifted off her shoulders, “And don’t worry about the phone call anxiety. Makes two of us, to be honest.”

This catches him off-guard. The last thing he’d expect is for this girl to have phone call anxiety. In fact, she appears to be a natural, God-given talent at carrying conversations and upholding chit-chat with people. Maybe he’s a little too quick to judge - probably, considering he’s ‘known’ her for less than five minutes and knows nothing but her occupation, her name and the state she lives in - but that bubbly persona she greeted him with gave off the impression that it’s immune to any and all kinds of social anxiety - or anxiety in general. To hear such an honest and counter-to-assumptions confession on her part rattles him a tiny bit. In a good way though.

“How does that work for you? Isn’t your whole job depending on your phone conversational skills?“ He doesn’t mind that he didn’t phrase that too perfectly or that he straight up blurted it out. He knows he’ll be understood. She’s obviously a person who understands. Not just something specific, but everything. She simply understands. How he drew this conclusion and how accurate it is, he may not know until further notice.

“Well...“ she sighs as if genuinely looking to give him a proper answer, “You see, after doing it for so long and having been caught off guard quite a few times with some absolutely absurd orders, I’ve grown prepared of literally ANYTHING and I have a line prepared for anything the caller has to say. I just no longer let them catch me off guard and it’s fine. Helps avoid any possible awkward silences.“

Corpse’s eyebrows shoot up, her explanation only raising more questions rather than providing answers. But he’s not gonna be the annoying dumbass asking those questions at close to 1AM and bugging her. After all, if she agrees to this partnership, they’ll be hearing and potentially seeing a lot more of each other soon. “Impressive, honestly. You’re gonna need to teach me sometime.“ He’s unaware he’s smiling until he catches his reflection in the window. However, he doesn’t bother hiding it. This conversation is actually making him feel good, serving as a reminder that he’s not the only one who periodically goes through turmoil over small things. 

She giggles again, this time the sound manages to draw a blush out of him, coating his cheeks, “I’d typically stray for revealing my secrets to professional success, but I’m willing to make an exception for you...” she pauses for a second as though she’s just now remembered something, “Oh shoot, I don’t even know your name.”

He wheezes out a nervous laugh, realizing he never introduced him, “Oh yeah, sorry, that’s my bad. My name’s Corpse, nice to meet ya.”

“Nice to meet you too, Corpse.“ Y/N replies, sounding pleased but teasing simultaneously, “Now tell me, you didn’t call me about my phone call secrets, did you? What may be the real purpose of your call?“

Oh shoot, he himself almost forgot what he was calling for. Luckily, the reference designs displayed on his computer screen remind him. “Right, well, I’ve been thinking of launching a new merch line either this month or the next, depending on how long the procedure will take, and I needed someone great on my team to make some merch actually worth the money people are paying for it. And, as I said, I was told you were in that ‘someone great’ category.”

“Told by who, if you don’t mind me asking?“ She briefly cuts him off, her voice now giving away the fact that she’s half-absent-minded in this conversation, added evidence be the ruffling of more papers on her end.

“Jack. I mean, Sean. You know, Jacksepticeye.“ Corpse explains, contemplating whether he should’ve ratted Jack out like that. Hearing the sound of delight Y/N lets out eases his worries ASAP though.

“Oh Gosh, I haven’t seen that cutie in so long! He’s like a brother to me so a friend of Jack’s is a friend of min-“ this time she cuts herself off so abruptly Corpse thought the line was cut or she hung up on him. She doesn’t let him wonder for long though, “Wait, wait, wait....Merch? And you’re friends with Jack?“ She pauses for a second once again, once again not a long enough second for Corpse to speak up. “You’re a famous YouTuber, aren’t you?“

He was completely unaware of the fact Y/N hadn’t realized he was someone famous yet. In fact, he didn’t think of it because he thought it wouldn’t be a big deal to her considering she’s friends with Jack-fucking-septiceye! In his mind, his ranking is far lower than Jack’s - despite that mindset being absurd - so the last thing he expected was for her to have some sort of impressed reaction to have been talking to him on the phone this whole time. Hell, she doesn’t even know his full YouTube name or what kind of content he produces.

“WAIT!“ She shouts urgently, startling him a tiny bit, “You’re Corpse Husband, aren’t you? Oh my God, yes you are, how didn’t I put it together sooner? Ah crap, I really need more coffee for this.“

“No! No, you need more sleep.“ Corpse hurries to correct her but is very clearly ignored or overlapped with the many sounds that are coming from her end, “What are you doing?“

“You’re getting the first rough sketch of a design by tomorrow morning.“ She says, taking a sip of whatever beverage she’s acquired for the purpose of keeping her awake, “You go ahead and get some sleep, I know exactly what I’m doing. Don’t worry about it.“

“I’m not worried about the design.“ He hurries to say before she, God forbid, hangs up on him, “It’s 1AM, woman, you need sleep! I don’t need those designs done by tomorrow. Hell, I don’t even need them this week!“

“You don’t, but I do.“ Y/N says, sounding almost breathless because of what seems to be overwhelming excitement, “You don’t get it - I’m designing merch for Corpse fucking Husband! You have any idea how crazy that is?“

“I personally would say it’s underwhelming. I mean, I’m no Pewdiepie, after all.“ He says, now sat at his desk with his free hand rubbing his temple as he stares at the designs he’s pulled up on his screen, ones he probably won’t need given that he’s now working with a professional.

“Oh, shut it.“ She chuckles, “Shut it and get some sleep, ok? I’ll talk to you in the morning.“

“Noooo...“ He leisurely stretches the word, “Tell me, Y/N, do you have Discord?” She clicks her tongue instantly, giving him a signal that the question he’s asked is bordering into the territory of ridiculous. He playfully rolls his eyes, “Alright then, lemme find you. If we’re partnering up on this, we’re both staying up.”

“You know you can just straight up tell me you don’t fully trust me with this? Like, I won’t be offended, I get it.“ She murmurs in-thought, the sound of clicking evident on her end. 

“You know you can just straight up tell me you don’t want me bothering you and want me to leave you alone?“ He mimics her statement, smirking to himself as he pulls up Discord, knowing he’s already won.

She huffs and tells him her Discord info, quickly adding a small comment, “...but only because great minds think alike. I know we’ll be getting along on this design pretty nicely.”

“Yeah, yeah, right, sure, whatever you say.“ He laughs, “Accept my friend request and let’s drop this phone call.“

“Hey! - um, before we do that, I just wanna say a quick thank you.“ Y/N murmurs quietly, as if half-hoping he doesn’t hear her.

“For what?“ Corpse asks, his brows furrowing, unsure if they’re on the same page about this gratitude.

“For never once triggering my phone call anxiety.“ She admits, “I mean, I know I said I have lines prepared for every conversation scenario possible, but you totally caught me off-guard.“ She giggles a tiny bit, now sounding dangerously close to nervous, “But, not in a bad way, if that makes sense. Sorry if it doesn’t, I need more coffee.“

“No, no, it does!“ He hurries to reassure her, “It really does. And thank you too. Thank you for, you know, tolerating my BS at this hour. God knows I would’ve ignored your call if our roles were reversed.“

He hears her scoff and can’t help but laugh, “Huh ok, I see.“ She says, sounding greatly triggered and mock-pissed at his confession, “I’ll make sure to think of that next time you call me after midnight. Or at all, ever.“

Laughing his butt off, the only thing Corpse can think of in this moment is:

Damn, this girl and I are gonna get along

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[waifstarion]

I don’t think there is any harm in the baby Jack posts as he is in canon a baby, we only ever see him from age 0-3, it’s his 4th birthday next month. Never in canon has it stated Jack is autistic or coded as such, those quirks we see are canon as an angel not fitting in on earth, Castiel does it all the time. I believe it’s only really Gabriel who doesn’t have this issue as he’s been on earth for a very long time. I have quite a few traits in common with Jack from another condition that is not autism but overlaps, along with others (my condition sadly is very hard to diagnose for this reason, so a lot of people are often misdiagnosed as something else) I don’t post how angry that makes me as people are appropriating my condition and babying my traits (even if I do need help sometimes dressing myself right) If people are happy making Jack a baby then they should be allowed to post that. Jack only aged himself up after Kelly told him the world was unsafe, now Chuck has gone there’s no reason why Jack wouldn’t deage himself back to a toddler to finally experience playing on swings, slides and all the fun things with Castiel and Amara by his side. In a way too, the baby Jack is also a coping mechanism, in canon Jack left and Sam and Dean never seen him again, Sam lived at least 40 years without seeing Jack ever again and even in heaven, Jack wasn’t there 😭😭😭 so to draw or headcanon a small child who may need Sam to cut off the crust on his bread sandwiches, or Dean to read him a story and it be Game of Thrones or something... then that’s how that fan is coping with the true sad ending of Jack’s arc. We know he is with Castiel, he’s happy but Sam and Dean never learned that until after they died.

we would consider him a baby age-wise, as he is never older than three. however, seeing as he was born in a body roughly the age of eighteen, give or take a couple years (based on sam giving 2000 as his fake birth year when he was in the hospital and the cut line from 13x06). jack is never mentally an infant. he may have had the mentality of a younger child in his early episodes, but it doesn’t take too long for him to reach the mindset of a teenager. even at the end of the show, his mental age is probably around late adolescence or early adulthood (though that is up for interpretation). while he may be a baby in a very literal sense of the word (ie age-wise), he is not a baby in his mental state or appearance, which is what truly matters.

jack’s autism coding is all up to interpretation, however, i very intentionally use the term coding due to the fact that it is never outright stated in canon. coding typically isn’t confirmed within the actual show, otherwise i would have simply called it canon. another prominent character with autism coding (which was confirmed by ben edlund in the s6 commentary) is castiel, who just so happens to be a strong basis for jack’s character. many of the other angels are seen exhibiting neurotypical behaviours. angels such as naomi, balthazar, metatron, and many more do not display the traits that cas does. significantly, misha has said in numerous interviews that while his initial intention was to portray cas as something unhuman and unaware of human customs, not a single other actor did the same. as a result, this left cas as the odd one out, firmly establishing that this behaviour is just cas being himself, not an inherent side effect of being an angel. furthermore, the angels frequently make comments about cas being an outlier who doesn’t fit in, and make comments about it being a fundamental difference (eg. coming off the line with a crack in his chassis) rather than a learned behaviour. circling back to the autistic coding of cas and jack, it is never outright stated that either one is autistic, however there are traits that lead people to believe they are. this post does a good job of illustrating some potential autistic coding in jack. while it may not be intentional, it is certainly there, and a very prevalent interpretation within fandom. i'm sorry to hear that people infantilize your condition. i respect the fact that you make the personal decision not to make angry posts about it, as that is your prerogative. however, it is also mine to make a post about a pattern of behaviour i (and others) have noticed in fandom. the intention of my post is to encourage people to notice such patterns, and to draw their attention to it as there could be many people who never considered it from this point of view.

i never said they aren’t allowed to post it. on the contrary, i reblog posts about it on a semi-frequent basis. that being said, i find that there is a difference between sometimes posting about it versus exclusively portraying him as a baby and never talking about him as a person. in my post, i very clearly stated that it was about people posting it constantly and exclusively portraying him as an infant, which was my phrasing verbatim. it can be fun to portray characters in different ways, but in my opinion it becomes a problem when you constantly erase his character and backstory just to be a prop for a ship or your favourite character.

as for him wanting to deage himself, he has never indicated that. quite the contrary, he has been bothered when he is not taken seriously or seen as incapable. he wants to be capable and independent. it doesn’t make sense for him to want to limit himself mentally and physically so he becomes entirely reliant on those around him. he would lose essentially all of his autonomy, and i doubt that would be enjoyable for him. if he wants to go on a swing or a slide, no one’s stopping him in his current state. he can do plenty of the typical fun things while still being in his current form.

as it is, i don’t think that jack would be yearning for the stereotypical ideal childhood. no one jack has been around has had a normal, stable childhood. the bros, cas, rowena, etc all had abnormal and unstable childhoods. he was very briefly in his mother’s childhood heaven and that’s about the extent of it. even then, her heaven just consisted of her house with her dog. jack had a house and a pet, which he could easily view it as similar. even the tv shows we know he watches (clone wars, the walking dead, and riverdale) all seem to deal with people who do not get to experience real childhoods. he may not even be aware of the extent he is missing out on. even if he is aware, he may be perfectly fine with that and content with the memories he has already.

citing sam and dean’s preferences in and of itself is endemic to the issue of the constant baby jack posting. to be blunt, i don’t really care about what sam and dean want him to present himself as. they made little to no attempt to care for him as it was, so why should jack sacrifice his autonomy just so they can get some enjoyment out of it? in the finale, they barely even noticed his absence. you mention sam living forty years without him, yet he couldn’t be bothered to include a single photo of him in his house. jack shouldn’t have to change himself to make people happy. he should be himself, with complete autonomy, and loved for that. there is no true sad ending of jack’s arc. he’s happy with cas, just as you said. cas loved him unconditionally and was the only one who believed in him the entire time. cas wasn’t fazed when jack was an adult instead of the baby he had anticipated. he was happy to be with his son, regardless of what form that took.

the way cas and jack operate heaven is also left largely up to interpretation. all we know is that sam and dean are now there in the same place of them. it can easily be interpreted that they are all spending time together if that’s what you so please. it could very well be amara, cas, or another character that runs heaven. we don’t even know if there is anyone who needs to be in charge. it may run autonomously at this point and allow for jack to go off on whatever little hijinks he pleases

there are ways to write about tfw and jack post finale without erasing his personality and turning him into a prop. the entire issue is the fact that jack keeps getting used as a prop, and his tag consists almost exclusively of content where he is used as an accessory for other characters. all i’m asking is for people to stop constantly infantilizing him and to take the time to portray him as a fleshed out character sometimes.

[cassieschaosdimension]

I'm going to post this on tumblr instead of wattpad cause I'm like that, but this will be a collection of fanfic one shots from Draco's perspective giving him a redemption arc cause he deserves! Please let me know if you do want more after this.

The Train:

Eleven year old Draco Malfoy was standing on Platform Nine and Three Quarters hoping for a glimpse at the boy who lived. He like everyone else in the Wizarding world had grown up hearing his name. The story was one of legend and he wondered if Harry remembered it all. He was interrupted in his thoughts by two rambunctious red headed boys who brushed past him laughing loudly. He heard his father give a sniff of disapproval.

He pitied the boys even though he knee nothing about them. His father, Lucius Malfoy, was notorious for making sure none of his enemies were around to stop him. Draco had always wondered about the company his parents kept much perfering to stay in his room whilst they had any  visitors at all.

"Draco darling," that was his mother. He sauntered over to where she was and listened to what she had to say. "Draco remember no matter what happens at school your father and I love you very much. We will write you as soon as we get home and eagerly await your owl. Chin up, back straight. Malfoys and Blacks do not slouch."

Nodding his head Draco says "Yes mother. I love both of you too. And I can't wait to see the castle with the lake and my classes. Mom, do you think people will like me? What if I can't make any friends? I don't want to hang out with Blaise or Crabbe and Goyle or Pansy. They're mean and stuck up to people."

"Just be yourself darling and remember what I told you. Go see your father." Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy, formerly known as Black, was a thin woman who demanded respect when she walked into a room. No one ever knew what she was thinking, but one thing they knew was she loved her family dearly. She would do anything to keep her son safe and away from harm.

Draco walks over to his father. "Draco, while you're at Hogwarts please try to remember we are not like the others. We are of noble blood and we must be treated as such. Do not let others get you down. You are a Malfoy and the name of Malfoy has demanded respect for centuries. Do not mess it up. Have fun at Hogwarts, but do not forget what I have told you. Get on the train."

Mr. Lucius Malfoy did not have the best childhood and when Narcissa became pregnant he vowed to protect his son from harm. He did this by only letting him intermingle with those of his own kind. Pureblood was what Draco was so pureblood it was. He made sure his son had a normal childhood. Well as normal as he would let him.

After hugging and kissing his mother and shaking hands with his father Draco runs excitedly onto the train waiting to see if he could make any friends before he even got to Hogwarts. After looking into one compartment on the train he shies always from that one. It had really tall, really loud people in it! He didn't want that at all.

Another compartment had only girls. His only experience with girls his own age had been Pansy and he wasn't eager to find out if all girls were like her. She was enough to deal with. He wanted a group of guy friends. Crabbe and Goyle did what he said because his father was the boss of their fathers. They weren't his friends. They had to do whatever he said and he didn't like it. He wanted to have stimulating conversations like he had with his mother over tea.

Whenever Pansy and her parents came over she was so mean to the poor house elves Draco always went and apologized for her behavior. The house elves were sad to see him go off to school, but they were excited too.

Draco was not excited to leave his only friends behind. His parents had always taught him to look down on the house elves, but he was nice to them in secret. He didn't feel nice knowing he had to be mean to people. Elves were just like witches and wizards only different and way way shorter.

"Excuse me. Coming through. Lee has a trantula for us to look at. Budge along." It was the two rambunctious red headed boys who had brushed him going onto the platform. When they got to where Draco was their patient look turned sour.

The one on the right looked at the one on the left and said "Pardon me your Highness. Will you let us pass to get to our compartment?" Draco didn't like the tone he used. He wasn't doing anything wrong. The train hadn't even started to move yet!

"Oh yeah," Draco pressed himself up against the wall to let the two pass. He didn't like these two and hoped he wouldn't have to interact with them in class. They looked older though like they were definitely not first years. In fact all of these people looked a lot older than he was.

Draco was starting to get scared and started to stumble along the long, velvet carpeted, hallway separating the compartments from the platform.

With each peek into a compartment, he was getting worried. He had yet to see any people who looked like first years. At one compartment he saw Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy and immediately lurched past with his head down.

Shaken up at seeing them he stepped into a random compartment and was relieved to see a round faced brown haired boy with a toad sitting next to him. This boy looked like a first year like him.

"May I sit down?" Draco asked politely.

The boy looked to Draco and jumped in surprise. "Yes, yes you can. My name is Neville Longbottom and this is Trevor." He gestured to the tod sitting next to him. "Sit down and close the compartment please, Trevor might escape like he's tried four times already."

Grinning at the warm greeting, Draco complied. He stuck out his hand and said, "I'm Draco Malfoy. It's really nice to meet you Neville! I hope we can be friends!"

At the name Malfoy, Neville shot up in his seat in alarm. "M-mal-malfoy?! As in the Death Eaters?!" He started to fidget and panic.

Draco looked at the poor boy in utter confusion. "Former Death Eaters. Are you okay Neville?"

Eyes wide in fright Neville grabs Trevor and huddles at the furthest edge of the compartment. Away from Draco as if he had a disease. Draco wanted to cry. Here was a first year boy who looked terrified of him because of his name. He didn't understand why Neville was so scared. His parents weren't Death Eaters anymore and they only did it because He - Who - Must - Be - Named made them! All he wanted was a real friend!

Draco on the verge of tears turns to go. As soon as he opens the door he's met with a mane of brown, frizzy, bushy hair. He falls backwards in shock and hears a whimper from Neville.

"Hello. Everywhere else is full. They're about to depart so would you mind letting me into the compartment they would be wonderful." The bushy haired girl says with authority. "I would like to be seated when the lurch is felt. Excuse me."

She pushes past him and Draco stands up and when he's turned around the scene he looks at is chaotic.

Neville stands up to leap after Trevor, who with the door open, makes his way hopping faster than Draco expected towards freedom.

All else forgotten Neville screams "Grab him!" The bushy haired girl lunges for the toad and misses. Now it's Draco's turn to redeem himself in Neville's eyes. He too lunges for the toad and manages to grasp his left hind leg before he falls flat on his face his grip loosening on the toad who hope away unaware of the chaos he is about the cause.

Neville's face is distraught. "My great uncle Algie gave me Trevor when I got accepted into Hogwarts. See they didn't expect me to get in. I didn't show any signs until I got pushed off the Blackwell Pier. They expected me to drown, but I didn't!"

Draco and the girl exchange concerned glances. Draco knows that any Wizarding family will have almost all of their family members accepted unless they're a Squib and he's sure his family tree doesn't have any Squibs.

"So you're a pureblood?" Draco says cautiously accidentally falling into the girl who just sat down as the train gives a lurch just as the girl said.

The girl huffs and moves to give Draco room to sit and he smiles gratefully at her. He's never seen her before and she seems to give off the same air he does and he wonders if she's a pureblood from another country. As she speaks again he realizes they sound the same.

"Oh purebloods! I've read about them. They're the silly witches and wizards who think that half-bloods and Muggleborns are scum. I find that absolutely atrocious as I am a Muggleborn myself," the girl turns to Draco. "My guess is you're a pureblood?"

When he nods she starts to lecture him. "You all should be ashamed of yourselves! I read that if you guys didn't marry outside of your circle you would have died out! The mindset is completely rubbish and shouldn't even be put into practice. And at a school no less!"

Neville and Draco look at her shocked. For such a tiny girl she can inflict fear into anyone with that tone. "I'm Hermione Granger. And what House do you hope to be in? Personally I want to end up in Ravenclaw or Gryffindor as Slytherin seems filled with selfish and mean people and Hufflepuff seems filled with pushovers." (please don't hate me I adore the Houses remember she is basing them off of what she read in Hogwarts: A History it was really hard to insult my own House HUFFLEPUFF for life 💛💙💚♥️ fair House representation)

At this Draco swells. "Excuse me! My whole family has been in Slytherin for centuries and I can tell you we are not selfish and mean people! We care for the greater good!" (Just so you know I do not condone this type of thinking. This is just so wrong on so many levels this is just how he was raised remember that)

Neville seems to shrink into his corner again at the last three words and Draco instantly regrets. He wants Neville as a friend and now maybe he won't want to be his friend!

Hermione turns towards him so fast her hair slaps him in the face. "You sound like Grindelwald! He sounded like you! Are you a supporter of He Who Must be Named?! They were both awful men! How can you sit there saying that when they did such horrible things!"

Fear starts to creep into his eyes. These two do not like him. He is only repeating what he's heard his parents say! Should he say that? The words pop out before he can stop them. "My parents taught me that and I'm sorry if that was wrong all I want are real friends for once! Please give me a chance!"

Hermione looks at Neville and walks over to him. They converse in hushed voices. Draco's heart begins to sink. Will they give him a chance to be their friend?! All he wants is a real friend he count on! He doesn't think he wants to be a Malfoy if this what the name gives him.

The waiting is agonizing. It seems like forever when they suddenly turn to him and Neville says, "How do we know you're not lying? Your mom's sister made my parents insane! I had to be raised by my grandma! I love her, but I miss my parents!"

Hermione rubs his back and looks at Draco. "Okay, we don't trust you, but we are willing to give you a chance. Now, please help us find Trevor. He's special to Neville and he doesn't want to start Hogwarts without him. Please help us look for him."

Draco sensing a wonderful opportunity stands eagerly and nods. "Where do you want to start? Should we split up or stay together? Personally I think we should stay together because all of those people out there are scary."

The two stare at him in shock. They were not expecting him to jump up so suddenly and agree wholeheartedly.

Hermione says split up and Neville agrees, but then Draco pointed out no one would tell him anything since almost everyone knew who he was anyway. Finally it was agreed Neville would go on his own and Draco and Hermione would ask together.

Neville heads off to the left towards the front of the train because that's where he thinks Trevor would have gone. Hermione and Draco head towards the back of the train.

The first few compartments they encounter will only tell Hermione if they saw Trevor or not and ignored Draco completely. He wants to cry. Is the Malfoy name really making people not like him?! But they don't even know him! How are they supposed to know they don't like him if they don't know him?!

The last compartment holds two boys: one very red headed and one with round glasses and black hair. Draco had learned to hang back while Hermione does the asking. When she asks, they say no. The red headed boy pulls out a wand and Draco inches closer to see a real spell done. His mother made him promise not to use his wand until his first class because he could hurt people and he agreed.

The red haired boy says something about rats, daisies and yellow. As expected the rest does not turn yellow. Hermione scoffs and then fixes the black haired boy's glasses.

When the red haired boy introduces himself as Ron Weasley, Draco wrinkles his nose. He can't help it. His father says the Weasleys are blood traitors and Mugglelovers. He was always taught they were bad, but now he's not so sure.

Then when the black haired boy says his name is Harry Potter, Draco surges forward. As he comes into view Ron turns away in disgust and he deflates a little bit. He's going to have to be careful in how he says things. "Hello! My name is Draco Malfoy and I'm also looking for Neville's toad. I'm assuming since this is the last compartment he's not here. Hermione, I'm going to head back to the compartment to see if Neville found him."

With a smile and wave goodbye he leaves the three of them stunned into silence. The smile falls off his face as he trudges with a heavy heart towards the compartment to put his robes on. He realizes he should only stick to the people he has already met and he vows to steer clear of Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy for as long as he can and since they'll be in Slytherin like him it'll be hard. He'll manage.

He puts his robes in in the empty compartment and waits for Neville and Hermione to come back. Hopefully they will since their trucks are here. Smiling to himself at the he stares out the window already imaging what fun things he can do with his new friends!

Thank you for reading it! I hope you enjoyed it!

[hideawayintheimaginationworld]

What is everyone's greatest fear in the Fazbear Frights House Au?

I'll try and explain what they fear:

Oswald [Note: Oswald doesn’t live in the house but I wanted to talk about him]: Oswald is scared of loosing his dad, he didn’t have much of a relationship with him but after the events of Into the Pit, he realised he would be devastated if he lost his father suddenly when he is still so young, worse yet, he is just so easily “replaced”.

Sarah: Trusting people, Eleanor taught a lesson of being careful who you trust and let into your life. Sarah is worried she will trust the wrong person again if she isn’t careful.

Millie: Dying before her time, Millie hasn’t even graduated or gotten a job yet, she wants to experience life, Funtime Freddy to her is the symbol of the Grim Reaper as he stalks her, like a ticking clock, Millie fears the time in her life will end abruptly with no second chance.

Greg: Making mistakes, Greg came from a home where making mistakes resulted in a physical punishment. Greg would rather not do anything if he thinks he'll make a mistake, this behaviour got +1000 worse after the events of Fetch because his own father took what happened as a reason to start attacking him more, especially unprovoked.

Alec: The dark, Alec only fears it because he doesn’t know what uses the dark as cover to sneak and creep around, there have been times when he has been too distressed to sleep as a result.

Hazel: Losing her brother, Hazel feels guilt around “loosing” him once before and only realising months later that it was an imposter the whole time and Alec was taken in by Lefty in the meantime.

Oscar: Oscar isn’t exactly scared of the dark, but if he hears a noise when it's completely dark, he'll be on edge and might turn on his flashlight to make sure it's not something bad.

Delilah: Being stuck in the same lifestyle forever, Delilah really wants to have a family, she knows she needs to get her shit together but she's scared that it might take too long, so she would rather prioritise trying to get a “life” without addressing her mental health. Lefty told her that mindset is a good way to end up in a toxic relationship.

Stanley: Sleeping in a room that doesn’t have a lock. Stanley can’t sleep if the room isn’t completely locked up.

Devon: Abandonment, Devon doesn’t talk much about it, but he's scared Lefty will eventually get so frustrated by him and just abandons him without saying anything, essentially “throwing [him] away” (I would like to explain this in a story at some point because it's quite complex).

Pete: Total paralysis, Pete has had some episodes of sleep paralysis during which he feels helpless, he has visions about having his other eye ripped out by Foxy while being unable to move or scream for help. Not being to move or talk terrifies Pete beyond anything else.

Chuck: Running out of air, Chuck has asthma and he has had some close calls before. Chuck hates the feeling of loosing his air and being unable to take in any breath to save himself.

Kasey [doesn’t live in the house also but she is present at some points]: Being alone with men she doesn’t trust, she has had some bad experiences and doesn’t like reliving them at all.

Bob: Being so unaware that something happens to his family, it ties into how he sometimes wakes up at 2 AM to make sure all the doors and windows are closed, he doesn’t want to sleep knowing a door may be unlocked.

Matt: Ah yes jerk supreme, what does he fear? Getting sick, he doesn’t like how his body might betray him, he will deny that he's sick, until he passes out in front of people.

Arthur: Being taken advantage of, Arthur likes to believe the best in everyone, of course it kind of changes when Arthur is attacked one day by a street thug and nearly beaten to death.

Lefty: Losing any of his kids, he has had a few nightmares about losing them and gets extremely upset (he tries not to display that he's upset as to try and avoid making the kids worried).

Fetch: Losing Greg, which is why he purposely led Greg to Lefty so he would help Greg. He also hates being ignored/neglected/forgotten and gets worried about it potentially happening.

Ralpho: He will act like he's not scared of anything, but he's scared of the vacuum cleaner.

Spring JR: The scary “purple rabbit”.

[whoisbxcky]

After School Special

request: Your writing is amazing!!!! I have a request for a peter Parker imagine where the reader has healing powers and he falls for her and he gets hurt on a mission and she rushes in to save him and she heals him and the gets hurt and peter carries her out and stays by her side the whole time? Sorry if that was confusing

pairing: peter parker x reader (!!reader and peter both 16 in this fic!!)

word count: 3500 +/-

warnings: reader suffering from anxiety and a lil panic attack thrown in the mix, some angst but a lot of fluff also, descriptive violence, gunshot wound

author’s note: Okay first ever Peter Parker fic, apologies if it’s a little iffy (especially at the end- i flopped lol) I really struggled getting this one written despite the fact it ended up being uber long by my standards! I think I struggle writing for Peter purely because of the ‘trying to get into the mindset of a teenager’ thing lmao. 

But as always, feedback welcomed and appreciated, big huge thank you to anon for the request, and I am currently accepting requested so hit that inbox my lovelies! ~ Toria <3

“You ready for your first ever mission tonight, Y/N?”

You practically jumped out of your skin, your head crashing into the top of your locker with a sickening thwack.

With a groan of pain, you spun on your heel, murderous eyes fixating on Peter Parker, who was now stood staring at you with a mixture of shock and fear etched rather comically on his face.

“Well, geez, Peter. Hard to say, you think I can manage it with a concussion?”

You softened your gaze, shaking your head with a rueful smile as you brought a hand tentatively to your head and letting it rest over the knot that was rapidly growing there.

You let your eyelids flutter shut, summoning a warm, white light to your palm and allowing the healing energy to envelop your injury, smiling softly as you did.

When you opened your eyes, your head felt good as new, and you were met with Peter’s wide, curious gaze.

You frowned at him then, raising your brow dubiously as he continued to stare. After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, you cleared your throat, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Something the matter?”

Peter blinked a few times, his cheeks donning an unmistakable pink hue as his gaze shifted anywhere and everywhere that wasn’t your face. You strained to contain an eye roll as your fellow Avenger stuttered uselessly for a minute.

“I… Well no… No, it’s just… Well… Mr. Stark said we shouldn’t use our powers just out in the open like that and well…”

He trailed off, swallowing hard as you fixed him with your best ‘keep-going-and-I’ll-flatten-you’ stare. You had to hand it to the guy, usually when you gave people that look, they turned tail and got as far away as possible from you in the other direction.

“Well, what Mr. Stark doesn’t know won’t land me with another lecture, now will it, Peter?”

You folded your arms, flashing him with a conspirator’s grin.

“Besides, you’re the one announcing tonight’s mission to the whole school.”

You raised your brows, turning to slam your locker shut before grinning at him once more, taking off towards the school exit, after a few beats, you heard Peter scrambling to catch up with you.

The two of you discussed the task ahead of you in hushed tones as you left the school building and hastily made your way across campus. You tried to focus on the conversation at hand, but the nausea gripping your stomach at the thought of your first ever mission made it increasingly difficult.

It had been a year since Tony Stark had found you and recruited you.

A whole year of missing school dances, mall dates with your friends, even class sometimes, in the interest of training to become one of the Earth’s ‘mightiest’ heroes.

You winced at the thought.

After the alien invasion in NYC back in 2012, footage had emerged of an eleven-year-old you healing wounded civilians, an ability you had been entirely unaware of possessing up until that day.

You’d thought nothing of it at the time, given that the video quality was… questionable, at best, and you magically healing the wounded was far from the strangest thing to have occurred in NYC that day.

And, despite the magical healing hands, you had done a spectacular job at being a regular old, boring high school student. Right up until Stark had shown up on your doorstep and told you the Avenger’s needed your unique skill set, and you had found yourself agreeing, against your better judgement.  

Now here you were, a year into your training and about to embark on your first ever mission as a fully-fledged Avenger.

Oh joy.

Your inner musings were interrupted by Peter’s distant voice, alerting you to the fact you had arrived at the tower. You had been so lost in thought, you hadn’t even registered getting into the car Tony had sent for you both.

You reluctantly made your way up to the briefing room, nervously chewing on your thumbnail as Steve hit you with the ‘health and safety come first’ speech, in between briefing you for the mission at hand.

The task was simple: you, Peter, Sam and Wanda would head to a warehouse housing a Hydra sleeper cell, you would infiltrate the building, eliminate any threats and gather as much intel as you could. Easy-peasy. What could go wrong?

A few hours later, the Quinjet was parked up a little way away from the warehouse, and you and Peter were stood just outside the sole entrance, neither of you saying a word.

Sam and Wanda had gone inside already to do a primary sweep, ordering the two of you to wait outside as backup, as well as taking out any hostiles that may try to flee.

Five minutes had past, and the silence was becoming deafening. You could see Peter out of the corner of your eye, his body poised and ready, his focus absolute.

You let out a defeated sigh, before clearing your throat, your eyes fixated on the pebble you were kicking around at your feet.

“They’ve been in there for a while… You think they’re alright?”

You glanced up to find Peter’s perplexed expression staring back at you, sighing again, you continued.

“I mean I know they’re the professionals and all… But shouldn’t they be back by now? What if something’s gone wrong and they-“

You were cut off in surprise as a gentle hand on your shoulder caused you to flinch. When your eyes snapped up once more, Peter was stood just inches from you, a soft smile on his face and warmth in his eyes.

“They’ll be just fine, Y/N. We’re Avengers, this mission will be a piece of cake, you’ll see.”

You felt an uncomfortable heat rising in your cheeks and you studiously averted your eyes, clearing your throat in embarrassment.

“Oh… Of course.”

Peter chuckled then, offering you a boyish grin before your amicable exchange was interrupted by the sound of shouting, followed by gunfire, followed by an explosion.

As the two of you whipped around to face the warehouse, you half registered the fact that Peter had your hand in his and had pulled you to stand behind him. But the sound of Sam’s panicked voice over the coms kept you from thinking too much about it.

“Parker, Y/L/N, we need backup, now. Get in here-“

There was more gunfire, a yell, and the coms cut off. You felt your stomach drop.

You stumbled slightly as your arm was pulled forward, and you yanked it back, your wide eyes meeting Peter’s.

“Y/N? Let’s go, they need us!”

“I… I can’t…”

Peter stared at you incredulously, glancing back at the warehouse that was now half on fire. More gunshots. More yelling.

“Our teammates are in danger, we have to-“

“I know! But I… I can’t do it, I…”

You could feel the ice-cold jaws of panic latch around your throat, making breathing feel almost impossible. You looked around frantically for a way out, but only found the chaos unfolding in front of you.

Peter let out a breath of despair, before turning on his heel and running into the building ahead of you. You moved to call him back but found that the words would not leave your throat. They were trapped there, fear holding them in place and making you choke.

I can’t do this… I’m not a hero. I’m just a sophomore for gods sake. I should be doing homework right now, making weekend plans with friends… Not running into a burning building to risk my life fighting god knows what…

You let out a sob of frustration, falling to your knees in the gravel, your hands coming up to grip your hair desperately. Your breathing was erratic, and you knew you were having a panic attack.

As you willed your breathing to slow, trying to find a calm place in your mind, Peter’s face materialised in your thoughts. You found your mind subconsciously wandering back to the first day you met in the Avenger’s Tower, your surprise at learning your classmate was the infamous Spider-man...

“I can’t believe it, Peter Parker, a hero… And… Part spider…?”

Peter gave a short barking laugh, and you flashed him a sharp-toothed grin. The two of you were sat on the balcony of the Avenger’s tower, the day of your recruitment. Despite the fact you were both freshman at the same school, it was the first time you’d ever conversed with the guy.

“I mean, yeah, you could say that. Here, check this out…”

He grinned at you then, his eyes twinkling in the growing darkness around you. With a flick of his wrist, a strand of web shot out, attaching to the rafter above you. Next thing you knew, he had pulled himself up on the web and was now dangling upside down in front of you, waving his free arm in a mock ‘ta-dah’ fashion.

You grinned at him once more, overcome with a fit of giggles as he let himself drop back to the ground, tripping over the chair as he did.

“Very cool. Doesn’t it scare you though? Putting your life at risk for complete strangers like you do…?”

You trailed of, worrying your lip between your teeth as you stared out onto the skyline. Peter paused for a moment before responding, his gaze moving from the view to rest fondly on you.

“I guess a little… But you got to do what you got to do, right?”

“I suppose… but why you? I mean… There’s a whole tower of heroes here, couldn’t you just… Not? You know, have a normal life?”

Peter chuckled then, and you slid your gaze from the city below to find his eyes fixated on you, and you smiled shyly at him.

“The way I see it? Those with the power to make a difference who chose not to, are just as bad as the bad guys.”

You stared at him for a beat, his words settling deep in your subconscious. After a moment of thoughtful silence, he hopped to his feet, offering you a hand.

“Come on, let’s go check out the cinema room.”

Your eyes lit up, and you accepted his hand as he pulled you to your feet, steadying you with a hand on your waist.

“You guys have a cinema room here!?”

Peter’s laugh mingling with your own faded into the darkness of your subconscious once more, a nearby blast drawing you out of your memories.

You found yourself back on your feet, breathing even once more and a new-found resolve coursing through your veins.

Peter was right, you were afraid, and that was okay. But if you let your fear win and abandoned your teammates right now, you didn’t deserve to call yourself an Avenger.

Sprinting towards the now half destroyed warehouse, you paused for a moment to pick up a nearby steal pipe that was laying in the gravel, likely thrown there in one of the explosions. You may have healing powers, but combat lessons had not been your strong suit, so you hadn’t bothered to bring a weapon with you, other than some knuckle dusters that Natasha had gifted you and a mace from Rhodey.

As you entered the building, your senses were momentarily overloaded. You could see Wanda facing off against an armada of automatic weaponry, bullets raining down on her in succession. Sam was off to your right, engaged with a particularly large man with a suit that echoed Tony’s Iron-man get up. And there, in front of you, Peter was taking on the bulk of the Hydra forces, dipping and weaving to avoid their gunfire while taking them out one-by-one.

A yell to your left alerted you to an incoming hostile, and you cried out in determination as you swung the pipe at the man’s face, knocking him out and onto his back.

You ducked behind a slab of concrete to your right as gunfire peppered the wall behind you, cursing as a stray bullet whizzed past your ear, far too close for comfort.

With a grimace, you stood up, ready to throw yourself back into the fray, when Sam’s voice screaming down the coms made you stop dead in your tracks.

“Grenade, everyone down!”

You threw yourself back behind the concrete slab, your heart stopping in your chest as a deafening boom went off from the other side of the room. You were vaguely aware of debris, fire and the occasional body flying over your head, and you screwed your eyes closed.

You thought things couldn’t get any worse than this, surely, they couldn’t get worse.

You were wrong.

“Peter is down!”

Wanda’s panicked tone came crackling over the coms and you felt bile rise in your throat.

Without thinking, you clambered to your feet, steel pipe abandoned. You stumbled over concrete, bodies and scrap metal as you blindly made your way over to where you had last seen your friend.

“Peter!?”

You heard a voice screaming and took a moment to realise it was your own, horse and cracking with fear as you scrambled to find him amongst the wreckage on the far side on the room.

There, a flash of red and blue under a few wooden beams.

“Peter!”

You called out for him, rushing to his side as you began to dig him out of the rubble. You almost sobbed in relief when he let out a groan of disapproval, helping you shift the largest beam from his torso. He glanced up at you with a lopsided grin, although the pain in his eyes was unmistakable.

“You came.”

You stared back at him, the relief at him being alive giving way to worry for the wounds he had clearly sustained in the explosion.

“I did. Hold still while I fix you up.”

Without another word, you placed your hands gingerly on his chest, willing the warm, white light to manifest in your palms and spread throughout Peter’s whole body.

You heard him gasp and felt his whole body relax, as tendrils of your focused energy reached out throughout his wounded form, finding cuts, breaks and bruises and restoring them as you went.

Once you were done, you summoned the white light back into your palms, sagging forward in exhaustion as your eyelids fluttered open.

Peter sat up, entirely healthy once more, to catch your shoulders.

“Are you alright, Y/N?”

You smiled up at him weakly, nodding.

“Mhm. I’ve just never healed that many injuries all at once before, it’s… Taken it out of me a little”

He gave you a warm smile back, and a whistle from behind you made you both spin around to attention. You found Sam and Wanda heading your way, delicately navigating the warehouse floor.

“You two alright?”

Sam called out, fixing you with a concerned look.

“Yeah, we’re good.”

Peter called back, hopping to his feet and offering you a hand up, which you gladly accepted. You felt completely drained, both from the adrenaline that was now depleting in your blood stream and the expended energy, but you managed to hold yourself up steadily in front of your fellow Avengers.

“Good. That seems to be the last of them. Let’s get to the control room, get those damn files and get the hell out of dodge.”

Sam started walking towards a gaping hole in the wall behind you, which you recalled from the building’s blueprints would lead to a concrete bunker under the warehouse. Everyone nodded in agreement, moving to follow him.

You had only taken a few steps when the sound of a gunshot rang out, thunderously loud in the silence of the decimated room.

Everything seemed to happen at half-speed then.

Your eyes caught the flash of the sniper rifle on one of the corridors above you.

Wanda, without missing a beat, captured the perpetrator in a net of red energy, launching him from the balcony and through a hole in the warehouse roof.

There was a deafening ringing in your ears, making the world around you feel blurry. You became numbly aware of the sensation of warm liquid running down your arm and chest, freezing in terror as you glanced down to see a stream of red on your tactical vest.

You’d just been shot.

Your legs gave out from under you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head in shock. However, the feeling of your body hitting concrete never came.

Instead, when you opened your eyes once more you found yourself in Peter’s arms, his face twisted in fear, panic and rage as he called to you, telling you to hold on, to stay awake.

You could hear Sam telling Wanda to fetch the first aid kit while he started up the Quinjet to extract you.

Wanda’s voice in your mind telling you to stay awake, that you’d be okay.

You took in a shaky breath, willing your voice to return to you as the ringing in your ears finally subsided, and everything became clear once more.

“Stop!”

You half-croaked, half-yelled. Your fellow Avengers stopped dead in their tracks, staring at you in confusion.

Peter grabbed your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he held you.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. You’re fine, okay? You’re fine-“

“It’s not that.”

You winced as a fit of coughing racked your trembling form, and you met each of your teammates’ stares with a determined one of your own.

“We have a mission to complete. You guys go and get the files.”

Stares of confusion turned to disbelief, and it was Wanda who finally broke the stunned silence.

“That bullet has torn through your chest, Y/N, you need assistance right now.”

You coughed again, struggling to sit up, but Peter held you firmly down in his arms, moving to speak before you cut him off.

“I can stem the bleeding with what’s left of my energy. That’ll keep me going while you guys do what we came here for.”

You met Sam’s gaze, your eyes burning with fierce resolve, and he nodded slowly.

“Alright then, Parker, you get her outside and into the Quinjet ready to go. We’ll be as fast as possible. Y/N, you hang tough until we get back, you hear?”

You nodded in response, offering him a small smile as he and Wanda took off running down the corridor.

Peter followed by scooping you up in his arms bridal style, murmuring reassurances to you as he briskly navigated your way back through the debris and out of the warehouse. You let your head fall against his chest, focusing your energy on the part of your chest the bullet had gone through.

By the time you were both safely aboard the Quinjet, you had successfully stopped the bleeding and made a haphazard attempt at patching the skin up, but given the complete lack of energy you now possessed, it was far from your finest work.

Peter gently lowered himself to the floor, keeping you securely in his arms and bringing you to settle in his lap. When he finally spoke, his voice held an unmistakable waiver of emotion, and you glanced up to see the worry mixed with pride etched on his face as he spoke.

“That, what you did back there, Y/N… That was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He smiled gently down at you, reaching up to your face to move a stray strand of hair from your eye, you smiled in response.

“Honestly, I just thought to myself: what would Peter do? The confidence came naturally after that.”

You grinned up at him, wincing as a giggle bubbled up in your throat.

Peter began to chuckle in turn, shaking his head with a dazed smile.

“First official day as an Avenger, and you take a bullet to the chest. That’s pretty badass, you know.”

You smirked, the pain from your wound subsiding as you lost yourself in oak-brown of his eyes.

“Badass enough to take you on, I think. What do you say, sparring session when we get back?”

“Oh, it’s a date, Y/N!”

You both burst into a fit of laughter, half delirious with exhaustion, half relieved at having survived the day.

Despite your fear, despite your doubts, despite getting shot on your first day on the job, you became absolutely clear of one thing in the safety of Peter’s grasp.

With him by your side, you had the strength to be an Avenger.

[chogiwrites]

300 Yuan To Love || Lay

Summary: The road to hell is paved with good intentions and, in this case, some rice cakes along the way. Or: Yixing makes a dumb bet but even when he wins, he loses.

Lenght: 5.4k

Genre: Humour/Fluff/mild Angst

Like with all shitty things in life, at least from a masculine standpoint, it begins with the desire to take a cute girl out on a date.

It’s hot and humid in Hangzhou, as is typical for the summer cycle in this part of China, and Zhang Yixing bikes up to Wang Xun’s cake stand with his balls tucked neatly in his wicker basket. This was his grandma’s doing, really. She knew Yixing needed a job and whilst she was wandering the neighborhood one afternoon, she ran into him.

Had it been anybody else, had it even been written in the Constitution of the People’s Republic of China, then Yixing would’ve immediately said no. But, it just so happens that Yixing is weak for his granny. So, when she returned from her walk, staggering with a fabric trolley full of leeks and other proteins, with a shiny look in her eyes, Zhang Yixing was honor-bound to accept.

Glutinous rice cakes are Zhang Yixing’s worst nightmare, and he starts work the next day

Just the smell is enough to give him a thick sense of nausea. Wang Xun knows this, and Yixing is about ninety-nine-point-nine percent sure that he’s banking off of that. So, what’s it about it all, that has Yixing bike towards there, on a road so quintessential that you could practically hear the 80’s pop music behind him?

Well, he needs a new haircut, that’s what. That, and he wants the opportunity to take his best friend, you, out someplace nice. It’s the latter mostly. Especially the latter.

You both entered Uni not too long ago but only one entered the prestigious option. Spoiler alert, it wasn’t Yixing. It doesn’t bother him much though, because he never intends to be a fancy businessman anyway. He applied to a local college to learn dance, and music theory, which he’s passionate about. On top of that, even though it sees him lose more money than it ever does see him gain it— Yixing enjoys posting his amateur attempts at rapping over on Weibo, which garners some positive feedback.

Meanwhile, there’s you. You’ve been friends with him since the first grade but you’re about as different from him as a banana to a pineapple. You set out to enter business, much like the rest of your family, and Yixing often catches you nowadays during your coffee not-dates in pressed blouses and pencil skirts. Your fierce makeup gives you an air of exclusivity, which makes Yixing’s breezy noncommittal to looking posh, nearly garish.

His idea of having a sense of style is often eclectic and vintage, in conflicting patterns and textures. He got into krumping, and this saw him, in turn, get into wearing blaze red tracksuits and little braids in his hair. It also saw him bleach his hair to the point of no return, which you made fun of him for relentlessly.

The consequence of having such an outlandish appearance—though at this point, he has his hair an ugly, faded red— came one day, full force, during one of your bi-weekly coffee not-dates.

You two were in the midst of a serious conversation when some yuppie mistook your frown as being caused by Yixing’s presence. So, he did what any overbearing yuppie does. He tried to forcibly remove Yixing from the situation with the same technique you use to swat away a pigeon that wants your Kentucky Fried Chicken.

It was embarrassing for all three of you and this is where it does bother Yixing, who’s become notorious for being blissfully unaware of any and everything. For one, he doesn’t see you as often as he wants to, and secondly, a part of him worries he’s slowly sinking beneath you.

Sure, this was a lifelong thing. You’d always come from the better and wealthier family whilst Yixing grew up with his grandparents in a relatively small, rickety house. But you don’t feel these things when you’re ten and frog hunting in the mud, you don’t feel these things when you hold your best friend’s dirty hand at the bus stop to ‘see what it’s like’ on your way to the arcade.

Admittedly, Yixing isn’t super certain as to why he feels the way he feels. He’ll figure this out by the end of the day but he doesn’t know that yet. His pretty face earns him a lot of kind-hearted Jiejies who’re happy to pay for his lunches out of pity. Usually, he’ll open up his phone and add a reminder in his notes to pay them back when he can, and this tends to be the end of his guilt. But, he doesn’t ponder on it too long either.

It’s not exactly in Yixing’s nature to delve too deeply into his own psyche, it’s that naive streak of his. He’s simple-minded and he knows that he is. It keeps him happy and he has that mindset from what he likes, all the way down to what he dislikes.

So, when he finally parks by the stall, over-grown bangs tied in a silly looking bun and testicles in tow, he resolves to approach this in the same way Zhang Yixing approaches all areas of his life:

He’ll just have to do his very best.

“Yixing!” Wang Xun says cheerfully, greeting Yixing with a tight hug after he locks his bike up to an iron fence. “Wow! So handsome!” He beams, pinching at those devastatingly high cheekbones as Yixing’s face quickly goes flush.

“Thank you, Gege.” He replies with a small, polite bow. Yixing’s humble and appreciative demeanor is broken as soon as he glances over at the thick, fragrant slabs of cake, just waiting to be touched, fondled and sold. His skin takes on a greenish hue.

Catching this, Xun thinks now would be a good time to have a little bit of fun with his new employee.

See, this job is often a dull one and last night, his wife, bless her memory, accidentally made double the usual quantity. Even on the busiest day, there’s always at least a bit of leftovers. This usually isn’t much of an issue because there’s a homeless shelter nearby. The only problem? They were quickly becoming tired of being constantly fed leftover rice cakes. Wang Xun hates waste, so he has a plan.

Diddling his fingers, he begins, “I heard from your granny that you want to earn some extra money. I know this doesn’t pay so well, but… How would you like to place a wager?”

Yixing turns to him with a look that is simultaneously hopeful and apprehensive. Wang Xun thinks that, oh yes, this will be fun. Very fun indeed. Unfortunately thouh, the road to hell is paved with good intentions and, in this case, some rice cakes along the way.

For you, whom summer often means being able to forget your studies and instead, focus on your friends and family, this one is already shaping up to be a massive disappointment. Some of your friends went back to their hometowns, whilst others went abroad. The most important contestant though, Zhang Yixing, your closest friend, your secret beloved, had gotten a job.

Your shoulders fell right down to your ankles when you got the news over the phone a night ago. But he sounded so excited that you couldn’t bare to complain. After all, you weren’t his girlfriend. Did Yixing even have a girlfriend? You don’t think you’ve ever heard him talk about any girls, even though he always has at least one woman around him. Maybe he was gay?

You sighed, lying on your back with your phone across your chest.

You only become concerned for Yixing and his mental state, when you find out what his job is, and the strange bet that succeeds it. You receive that text at ten am sharp.

«(Y/N)! Me and Xun-Ge (Do you remember him? He says hi! ^^) Made a bet for three hundred yuan to see who can sell the most rice cakes. The catch is that if we aren’t exact in our measurements, we must eat the surplus. I hope you’ll come and support me!!»

You reply instantly, wondering if all of this is some sick prank but that’s not in his character. Of course you remember Wang Xun, he runs that cake stand near the city square. You like his wife’s cakes but with that you also know…

«Yixing… You hate rice cakes???»

«I know, this means I’ll be even more motivated to win! Please come and support me!»

And this is how you end up on a plastic pull-out chair, watching your best friend torture himself for three hundred yuan, under the hot sun. “Are you ready, Yixing?” Wang Xun asks him and his grin is devilish. You can tell he completely expects Yixing to tank the whole competition.

“I was born ready, Gege! May the best man win!” Yixing grins and throws a little glance over his shoulder, hoping that you think he’s cool.

In that silly ‘Zhang Yixing’ way, he does look pretty cool, especially when he lifts the hem of his neon t-shirt to wipe the sweat from his browbone. The sad thing is that you would put money down the fact that Yixing will lose the three hundred yuan.

Truthfully, he can win this competition on sex appeal alone, if only he was aware of his own pull to begin with. Yixing isn’t though. He never was. He has the habit of presenting himself as a perfect image of self-control. You reckon the only correlation he’s made thus far is that the less clothes he wears, the more the female sex tends to smile around him. It’s a bit silly because Yixing, even now, will still walk around you in nothing but his boxers, as if he doesn’t look like he belongs in a Calvin Klein ad.

Needless to say, you, who has known him since a young age, rarely get to see him eschew from that respectability— sans his semi-nudist tendencies, that is.

Well, that’s until he begins losing the bet. Make no mistake though, Yixing tanks the bet before it can even begin.

“Ahhh, just 0.75? Why not make it a full KG?” Yixing whines at the customer, an older woman with a cold and mysterious look to her. “You don’t need to worry about your diet, Jiejie, you’re beautiful just the way you are. Eat the full kilo, your heart will thank you.”

Wang Xun chortles in the background as No-Name Jiejie rips him a new one. Somewhat offended yourself, you instinctively cross your arms across your soft middle and bite your lip. The next customer is another female, this one about high school aged. She orders a meager 0.25 KG and you try not to look at her with too much jealousy.

As she leaves, she turns to say: “Gege, you’re very handsome, but you shouldn’t make comments about a woman’s body like this. I think it’d be better if you found her and apologized for wounding her pride. Have a nice day~”

She waves before turning on her heels and Yixing looks at you in desperation, not understanding where his sales tactics are failing him. Your response is to cock a brow.

Even before his embarrassing comments, which you can only attribute as being brought on by a semester spent in South Korea, where he held a part time job as the person advertising Gangnam PS on the train, you were already slowly becoming annoyed with him. Why did you even bother to come out here in the first place?

It was unbearably hot and all you’re doing is watching the sweat stain on his back grow and grow while your thighs become welted from the plastic straps on the chair. Your leg skin is ruddy and bumped from shaving the night before and even though you like rice cakes, that and the smell of humid, mowed grass is threatens to make you sick.

Plus, it’s not as if you enjoy watching Yixing lose a dumb bet he should’ve already known he’d never win. By the time the sun is at it’s peak, around one-ish, you confront him behind the pagoda, where he gags in his fist.

“Yixing, I want to go home.” You say with your arms crossed, leaning against a ridged wall as you stare down at the dirt between you two. Yixing instantly looks up— churning stomach be damned. His eyes are wide and his face is a sweaty mess, but despite that, the disappointment is evident.

“You can’t go!” His voice comes out more frantically than it perhaps should. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, trying not to seem too upset with him. Rather, you wish to simply look like you’re not feeling well. The snap to your tone betrays you though. It always does.

“This is ridiculous. It’s too hot outside and you’re making a goddamn fool out of yourself. What was the point of even having me here?” Yixing’s lips press into a thin line.

“We haven’t hung out in a while so—”

“So you think having me watch you make yourself sick is fun?” Normally, you would dislike the mean edge in your laugh, whenever you got the least bit annoyed with him. It might be the oppressive heat making your adrenaline run higher. Or, maybe, just maybe, Yixing’s lack of negative aspect gets on your nerves a lot more than you’d like to admit. Maybe, a deep, dark part of you wants to see Yixing get annoyed with you too, show you a face more offended than just one of mild hurt.

He doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, Yixing shoves his palms down his back pockets and rocks on his heels. Exhaling through his nose, Yixing opens his mouth to speak but closes up, pouting in a way which makes his lips look even pinker than they already are. It’s aggro, plain and simple.

“Aiyo! All this for an extra three hundred yuan you won’t win anyway?” You scoff, “If you need it so badly, ask me. I’ll lend it to you.”

Finally, his facade cracks and you’re not sure you like what you see. “Three hundred yuan may not mean much to you but it means a lot to others! Not everybody is wealthy like you!” His voice raises an octave, tone turning nasally and thick.

“You’re right. It means jack shit to me.” To prove your point, you reach into your daisy-shaped purse and pull out a few crumpled notes. “That’s why you should just relieve me of my burden and take the fucking yuan.”

Yixing, with his face as red as a chili pepper, gently pushes your hand back towards you. “You’re not treating me like a man.” He says.

Stomping your foot against the grass, you cry out: “Because you aren’t a man, Zhang Yixing!”

With that comes a steady, harsh silence. Yixing looks at you with an expression which you can’t decipher, as it’s not one you’ve ever seen on him. Once the guilt hits, and it hits fast, you let out a choked, “I’m going home. I’ll text you later.”

Just like that, you leave him there, before you lose control of your emotions in an entirely new way. After all, if Yixing never wanted to kiss you before, he certainly isn’t going to want to kiss you now, after what you just said to him.

Throwing your leg across the body of your bike, you push yourself until your knees hurt and Yixing is but a speck in the distance.

Things don’t get any better for Yixing after you leave, if anything, they become even worse, which is saying something. The idea of winning this bet begins to seem more and more fantastical, especially with the strange feeling holding onto his heart.

Whether it’s due to your hurtful words, or an impending heart attack, remains uncertain but one thing is for sure. Yixing has brain cells, and those brain cells are rapidly depleting.

“Ahh!” He screams, in Xiang, out at the neighboring lake and all the people paddle-boating. They stop and look at him like he’s an insane chipmunk. “It’s such a beautiful day!”

Yixing waves his fists around before cramming more baked shame down his gullet. Whilst singing an obscure folk song, he nearly falls over the stony ledge whilst doing a jaunty little dance.

Wang Xun, who has greatly overestimated his own mathematical prowess, as well as his abilities as a businessman, is the one who stops Yixing from meeting his soggy demise.

He places two sobering hands on Yixing’s shoulders. “We still have more cakes to sell.” When he speaks, passerbys can see his soul leave from his lips. Much like Yixing, Wang Xun has consumed so much goddamn cake that he fears he’ll wake up a rice cake. He reconsiders his line of work, but its much too late for that quitter mentality. He and Yixing are in it to the death.

Yixing, gaunt-cheeked, turns around with a rattle. “Gege… I want to give up.” He utters miserably. Xun considers calling the bet off himself but, the sun is setting, twilight is nearly upon them. He’s already lost so much money that unless he returns home victorious, there was a big chance he wouldn’t see the next day as a married man.

He laughs so hard the button holding his jeans together pops and hits Yixing right in the big toe.

“Yeah… Yeah, that’s not happening.”

Once you get home, the first thing you do is kick off your sweaty sandals before lying belly-first across your bed. Your eyes prickle as you shake your head to yourself. This is so stupid, you’re not really about to cry over Yixing again, are you?

Your fingers twist in your bed sheets as a few tears manage to squeeze their way out of your eyes. It seems like you are.

Flipping over so that your nose is in the air, you try to blink away the wetness. Throwing your arm across your face, your thoughts go to how stupid Yixing is. How stupid you are. Anybody with half a functional brain cell could see that you have a crush on him, one which spanned nearly the entirety of your friendship.

In elementary school, it was strange, because you never felt this way about anybody, not even the handsome actors you saw on TV. The only thing you had a full grasp on was that you liked this strange, chubby boy, who was also your close friend— a lot.

He had a sweet penchant for taking care of cats, none of which he could remember to name and whenever you were sad, he would lift his shirt and jiggled his belly.

His grandma also made delicious, albeit very spicy food, and they spoke in a dialect of Chinese which you couldn’t understand but found amusing to listen to. Afterwards, Yixing would let you rest your ear against his soft middle to hear the way his food digested, and all those gurgles and pops.

Your first experience with unrequited love must have been that. When you began wanting to nudge your head, so that your lips could press tender, butterfly kisses between his fleshy, brown rib cage. Instinctively, you knew not to.

High school was bearable, but only because for the majority of it, you were more popular than Yixing.

It was during the second to last year were his height shot and he became taller than most of the other boys. Suddenly, girls started to look at him with the same eyes as you. Suddenly, girls began to notice how handsome he was, how kind he was. It leaves you as you are now, supine on your mattress, unsure where to go from this point on.

With your pride majorly wounded, you stand up and waddle your way across the hall. Rarely are you ever desperate enough to ask your older sister, Mei, for advice. You knock on her door.

“What do you want?” She snaps, sliding off her headset. You take this as the okay to sit on her bed and divulge, and she eyes you with suspicion every step. “It’s just,” You sigh, smacking your lips as your legs cross beneath you. “Do you remember Yixing?”

Her face falls instantly. “Oh no. No. No. Not him again!” She grabs a small My Melody plush from her desk and chucks it towards your head. “Get out. I’m not listening to any of this Yixing shit. If I wanted a Korean drama, I’d go look on Tencent.”

You grabbed the toy and threw it back at her, whining, “I’m serious!!”

Mei kicks your knee with her manicured, cream toes. “Listen!” She cries in exasperation, throwing out her hands. “How many times will you bitch about this? If Zhang Yixing liked you back, he would’ve made a move by now. It’s as simple as that!” Conceding yourself to the understanding that, yes, Yixing doesn’t see you the way you see him, you look down at the small floral decals over her nailbed and begin to pick with a puffed cheek. “I understand that, Jiejie… But I may have said something mean to him.”

Seeing the sad look on your face makes Mei relent. “Then apologize to him, dummy.” She sighs as you lay across your side, clutching her foot to you as you try to hold back tears. She pushes herself closer, replacing her foot with a hand in yours, using the spare to push some wet strands from your face.

“Look,” She rolls her eyes, though she’s taken on a gentler tone. “Zhang Yixing sees you as a friend. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have stuck by your side for all of these years. If you said something mean to him, just tell him you weren’t feeling well and that you’re sorry. He seems like a nice guy, I’m sure he’ll forgive you easily. But before that, I think you need to forgive him for not being able to return your feelings, (Y/N). You’re always getting into these petty arguments, it seems to me like you’ve become bitter over your unrequited feelings. You need to make peace with the fact that you’re his friend and nothing but, or else the day will come where Zhang Yixing will no longer feel like accepting your apologies.” You nod, but why does it hurt so much to let go of this love, even if it’s hopeless?

Eventually, after you calm yourself down and rinse off your face, you begin to feel more and more uncomfortable with the way you’ve treated him. It grows and it grows until you can’t take it anymore. You set off to try and find him and, hopefully, make things right again.

“I lost, didn’t I?” Yixing breathes, sitting on the stone steps as Wang Xun begins to pack up for the day. With an apologetic smile, the older man replies, “Yes, but barely.”

“Ahhh,” He sighs, looking up at the stars. Today has been a real nightmare. It seems like nothing he set out has accomplish. He’s offended people for no reason, rocks live in his stomach and worst of all, you’ve become upset with him. Yixing swallows thickly.

“(Y/N)’s become rather feisty since I’ve last seen her.” Xun points out. “She has.” There’s a silence before Yixing adds, “Gege, I don’t know if there’s room for me in her life anymore. The more I think of it, the more I feel I don’t belong by her side. We used to laugh and smile together but nowadays, whenever I call her out, she’s tense. We never used to fight this much, I think she thinks I’m beneath her, and is only trying to spare my emotions.”

Wang Xun takes a seat next to him, stretching out his legs before glancing up at the sky as well. “All this because of what she said?” Yixing doesn’t respond, which is confirmation enough.

“Women— No, not just women, people will often say things they don’t mean when they feel as though they’ve been hurt.” He says, “I think the same is true for her. She’ll apologize soon enough, so don’t take her words to heart.” Pause. “And if she doesn’t? There are so many more women out there for you to pine after. Eventually, you’ll find the one who doesn’t break your heart.”

Neither of them speak after this, not until something, or rather somebody, catches Yixing’s eye. It’s the Jiejie from earlier. Excusing himself, Yixing jogs up to her.

She stops the moment she sees him and scowls. “What do you want?” She snaps, her dog running off into the bushes. Her expression is so fierce, it reminds him a bit of yours.

Though he freezes up, he pushes past it and she jumps back when he bows so deeply, there’s a crack to his spine.

“I wanted to say that I’m really sorry if I offended you earlier today,” Yixing blushes, “You see, I had a bet with that man over there.” He points over to Wang Xun, who’s in the process of cleaning his ear out with his pinkie. “And I’m afraid in my attempt to earn a bit of extra pocket money, I’ve said and done some things I normally wouldn’t say or do. I hope you can forgive me.”

The woman stood there stunned and Yixing is afraid that might not be enough. She thinks of his apology for a second before shaking it off. “I see,” She nods pensively. “I take it, this was all for your girlfriend’s sake?” Yixing stands up straight, blinking a few times for clarity.

“What girlfriend?”

“The girl that sat behind you, she wasn’t your girlfriend?” Yixing shakes his head. “Christ…” She mumbles, instantly grateful that she’s already lived through the ‘stupid love’ phase. She sighs.

“I forgive you. We all have lapses in our judgment and as long as you understand that, and think before you speak next time, I don’t see a reason to hold it against you.”

“Thank you, Jiejie!” Yixing says with a big, happy grin, bowing deeply once more. His heart clears itself a tiny bit.

Unfortunately for his cardiovascular health, at this moment, you bike up next to him and Yixing’s heart is back to feeling like it’s about to burst. Shit.

“Sorry, am I interrupting something?” You ask, much to the woman’s amusement. “No. Me and your ‘friend’ over here were just touching base. I need to go home anyway.” She says, tugging the leash so that her puppy comes running back at her ankles.

As she turns around, she makes sure to tack on a “Good luck!” It’s for both of your sakes.

You park your bike up by the tree trunk, feeling the awkwardness finally hit. It’s already nightfall and the air has cooled off significantly, but you’re so ashamed that your cheeks are blazing and hot.

“Did you apologize to her for earlier?” You ask despite its redundancy. Yixing nods and you can see it from the illumination caused by the lampposts. “I did.”

“That’s good!” You hum, trying to keep your voice steady as you fish a green, rectangular bottle out of your purse. “I got you a probiotic drink to help you with… y’know. Here. Catch.”

It lands in his hands and Yixing beams brighter than the stars. “Why are you smiling at me like that?” You furrow your eyebrows. “Because you came back.”

Saying it outloud only has Yixing smile wider and it eats up at his eyes in the most charming of ways. You feel your heart throb.

Clearing your throat, you stutter out. “Right! About that…” You will yourself not to mask your true emotions with the air of nonchalance but you meet his eyes and, fuck, you might as well do that or just start crying.

“I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I didn’t mean any of it. It was wrong and I regret ever treating you this way.” You expect Yixing to hold a more serious stance, but he laughs, opening his arms.

“Aw, it’s alright. Come here and give me a hug.”

Slowly, you take steps towards him before burrowing into his chest, hands fisting against his shirt as tears begin to prickle in your eyes. Yixing smells too sweet and sweaty but past that, you can feel the warmth of his skin. His body is solid yet comforting and you want to be in his arms all day and all night.

“Why are you crying?” Yixing asks, feeling the moisture through his shirt. and you laugh dryly. He sways you side to side before pulling at your face. “If you cry, I might start crying too.”

Yixing’s fingers release from your skin and instead, move to hold you. “So, no crying, alright?” The touch makes you breathless.

“Yixing, I…” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them. He tilts his head, smiling softly in anticipation. Should you confess to him? You already know you have to let this go. Will it make your shoulders lighter if he knows how you feel? You shake your head at yourself.

No. Yixing is too delicate of a person to treat you the same knowing you’ve fallen for him. Seeing your knees buckle, Yixing leads you to the bench. Swallowing your heart, you resolve for the next best truth.

“Yixing, I’ve missed you a lot.” “Oh! I’ve missed you too.” Yixing responds with an annoying ease, uncapping the pribiotic before taking a sip. He grimaces at the bitter taste, making you giggle at his cute reaction. As you laugh, Yixing’s heart does a somersault and suddenly, there’s not enough air in the world. It’s an emotion that only you cause in him. Not even the prettiest girls give him this type of feeling and it puts him on edge, but in the most tender way.

“Why did you accept this bet anyway?” You ask, gazing at the lake, which is now devoid of people. Steady and dark, with the reflection of the moon.

Yixing considers it. “I think I did it to feel better about myself.” He leans back and caps the bottle, fingers almost touching yours as he holds the bottle between his knees.

He stares up at the silver moon.

You turn to look at him in surprise, gazing at his profile. Yixing catches you in his peripheral and nods with a sheepish smile. “Yeah.”

He swallows and then adds, “My hair needs fixing and…” He considers closely the next thing he’s about to say, but throughout the past several hours, this is the only conclusion he can draw. The more he says the words in his head, the righter they feel. “And I wanted to take you out on a date.”

Your eyes widen and Yixing grabs your hand, too afraid that you’ll run from him again. “But I lost the bet, so there’s that.” He mumbles.

With the air squeezed from your lungs, you whisper, “We don’t need money to—”

“I know we don’t, but I wanted it anyway. It was selfish and vain of me, I know. But, I thought… Maybe if I had more money, you’d be more inclined to see me as a man… As somebody you can actually date.”

Taking the leap of faith, you lace your fingers through his. Yixing squeezes tight and you close your eyes, reveling in the warmth of his hand. Years. It’s been years since he’s done this.

You’ve waited so long, since that day at the bus stop, to feel his hand on yours again and for it not be just to see what it feels like. Finally, you feel like you can breathe. It fits as perfectly against yours as it did back then.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I do think of you as a man. I’m sorry that I’m bitter and dramatic. I’ve taken these emotions out on you without realizing it, all because I’m bothered that you don’t see me the way I’ve seen you throughout all these years. I hope you can forgive me, I’ve been a bad friend.”

“When you speak with such a voice,” Yixing laughs, “It’s impossible for me not to. I’m scared of what you could do to me.”

There’s a silence and you bring his knuckles up to your lips. Yixing’s eyes flutter shut with a lazy grin.

There’s never been such a perfect moment in his life.

“I like you just the way you are.” You whisper, the feeling is just about the same for you too. “Thank you.”

“And I’ll wait patiently for you to take me on the date you feel we deserve.” “Thank you.”

He repeats as you two lean against each other and enjoy the serenity of an empty park. If this is what all these years have been working towards, then it must all be worth it in the end. It may not be a crescendo of epic proportions, a searing, tear-filled kiss in the rain, a loud, emotional ‘I love you’ shouted in the middle of a crowded airport, but this is perfect.

Zhang Yixing can turn the mundane into something extraordinary, this is what’s most beautiful about him to you. For a moment, it’s all quiet and that’s just fine.

Until he gets sick all over a bundle of Lotus roots, that is.

[idiotacadamia]

Book Review

Book: Fahrenheit 451

Author: Ray Bradbury

Genre: Dystopian, Science Fiction

Stars: 4 ½ stars

Fun Fact: This fact isn't really fun but it is quite creepy. The inspiration for the book came from Adolf Hitler. When Bradbury was asked about it he said, “Well, Hitler, of course. When I was 15, he burned the books in the streets of Berlin. Then along the way I learned about the libraries in Alexandria burning 5000 years ago. That grieved my soul. Since I'm self-educated, that means my educators—the libraries—are in danger. And if it could happen in Alexandria, if it could happen in Berlin, maybe it could happen somewhere up ahead, and my heroes would be killed,’

Actual fun fact: Fahrenheit 451 has been banned in some schools. Schools who are completely unaware of the irony in doing so. 

What is the book about? No spoilers! 

Guy Montag is a fireman. In his world, books are illegal and his job is to burn them as well as the houses that contain them. Montag never questions his habits of destruction until he runs into Clarrise, his eccentric young neighbour who introduces him to their past, where firemen supposedly put out fires instead of starting them. When his wife attempts suicide and Clarrise disappears, he suddenly questions everything he has ever known.

Did I enjoy the book? Why/ why not?

I really enjoyed this book for several reasons. Not only was it one of my favourite genres (dystopian) but it was fast paced and kept my interest during the majority of the book. I was quite nervous at the concept of the book and how the author was going to portray it. However after reading it, I was pleasantly surprised with how well it was written and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I would recommend this book to readers who enjoy dystopian novels and would like to read a classic. I think the writing style is quite easy to understand however the fast pacing of the book can sometimes throw you off. 

What would I improve about this book?

While this book was a pretty amazing book all round, I did have a few issues with it. Sometimes when describing things, the author got too caught up in it and it would completely baffle me. He could have been trying to build suspense in not actually naming what he was describing but it felt more of a hunk of information that confused you rather than a suspenseful build up. I think he does this a lot during this book which is a shame because the rest of it is so beautifully written in my opinion.

What would I add? Spoilers!

I'm not really sure how I feel about the way he formatted the sections of the book. While I think it definitely helped me ( the world's biggest procrastinator) read the book faster, it only did so because I hate putting a book down in the middle of a chapter. But the lack of chapters did put me off at first. I definitely would NOT KILL CLARISSE. However, that's me coming at this with my reader mindset and not my writer mindset. I think we all get emotional to say the least, when your favourite character is presumed dead by a really annoying twat.

What was my favourite part?

While I liked Part 1, Part 2 really captured my heart. I feel that the eerie and uncomfortable feeling that Bradbury created in Part 1 almost put me off the book entirely but looking at the book overall, that scene development did a lot for setting the tone for the book. My favourite part in particular though is definitely the end of Part 2 and beginning of Part 3. Montag and Beatty are driving to a house to burn it and right at the last moment of that part, Montag is hit with the realisation that they have pulled up right outside his own house. I in a way, felt this moment foreshadowing. I felt that it was going to happen eventually however my predictions originally were that Beatty was going to make Montag burn down Faber’s house. I was really prepared to feel some angst but then BOOM! They are outside Montag's house and the beginning of Part 3 has Mildred ( Montag's wife) fleeing the house! You find that Mildred called the alarm on her own house and husband and then ran away. I was really pleased to find that the suspense that Bradbury built up for this part was not put to waste. I really was put into that feeling or possibility that something is going to go awfully wrong very very soon.

Who was my favourite character? Why?

My favourite character was Clarisse. She reminded me of looking at the historical and philosophical side of things which I think is really necessary to be able to make judgments that are supposedly morally ‘correct’.  She was super eccentric and seemed like the kind of person who didn’t let the judgements of people around her influence the way she behaved or saw things which again is really important to me. She has this really calm and omniscient kind of vibe which I feel that this book really needed. Unfortunately, we don’t get to see any sort of character development within her because she is killed off within Part 1- The Hearth and the Salamander. However, I really loved seeing how her words really influenced Guy Montag and his entire outlook on life. This book without her would have never happened.

Who did you hate? Why?

I didn't ‘hate’ Mildred but she reminded me of everything I never wanted to become. I have to say that I was really mad at Montag when he slapped her. I really couldn’t stand violence between 2 people who are meant to ‘love’ each other, even though Montag and Clarisse establish from early on that they don’t really love each other. I think my main reason hating Mildred wasn’t her neediness but her great betrayal on her husband. I didn’t have any strong feelings until Part 3, Burning Bright when I found out that Mildred called the alarm on her own husband and then proceeded to run away from the house. As someone who really believes in loyalty, I was furious. I feel that that move Mildred made was really cowardly. However, I do stand with the fact that at the beginning, Mildred is portrayed in quite a bad lighting. Bradbury tries to portray her to show that she is a bad wife for forgetting important things such as when she and Montag first met or how she is obsessed with watching TV to the extent where she calls them family. I think that the way Bradbury portrayed her was trying to hide that she was seriously unhappy with her life and in a way depressed. Bradbury portrays Mildred as a shell of a human being devoid of any sincere emotional, intellectual or spiritual substance and I really hated that. I feel that Mildred had the potential to be a great character but she is purposely portrayed to be cold, distant and unreadable. She, in a way, is what was considered to be the ‘perfect wife’ at the time of this being written and yet you witness how she buries all emotions of despair and emptiness deep inside of her because she is afraid to come to the realisation that she, just like her husband, is unhappy and sees no purpose to living. Bradbury really tries to emphasise that Mildred is much less satisfied with her life by having her attempt suicide and then proceed to have no memory of it; which further intails the severity of Mildred’s behaviour. She watches TV obsessively to hide her lack of feeling and despair within herself and has therefore created great attachments with the people on said TV to the point where she associates them as ‘Family’. I disliked Mildred because she had so much potential but instead Bradbury uses her character to portray betrayal.

Was the book predictable?

Other than predicting that Montag would definitely read some books, a lot of the things that occurred within this book took me by surprise. In fact, going into this book, I knew nothing except that books were illegal and firemen were meant to burn them. I remember gasping when realised that Mildred was getting her stomach pumped because she attempted suicide. I was more comfortable reading this due to my history in reading this genre. I was expecting a big twist like in many books in a similar genre but I simply had no idea what it was going to be. The book definitely kept me gripped and I didn’t feel like I had to push myself to read it which is always a good thing when reading. The overarching plot was simple, books are banned and this dude is going to go and read some books. Like most books it had small plots intertwined to keep it moving. Bradbury does an excellent job at this because the plots are all related and don’t overcomplicate. 

How did you feel about the ending?

This may have not been my favourite part. In fact at first I didn’t like the ending however after much consideration, I have very different opinions. I understand that Bradbury tries to illustrate violence throughout the novel and the beginning of the war depicts the new extremes of violence which destroys society and its infrastructure. The ending altogether shows the inevitable self-destruction of such an oppressive society and yet a glimmer of hope. I love how it feels so relevant to the situation today. The mass majority of us are part of a minority whom are oppressed, whether you are of colour, female or queer and many more. Bradubury foreshadows that if we oppress what actually creates our society, if we oppress those with different views, if we oppress those who are different, out of the fear that they will overcome us, we are bound to self-destruct. Those who today feel safe by suppressing those of colour or muslims because they are ‘terrorists’ or ‘thugs’ or ‘drug dealers’ will be the ultimate downfall of themselves. Remember ‘Security is mortals chiefest enemy’ as Hecate said. 

What do you think about the character and scene development?

As this book was not very hard to understand, I feel like I didn’t pay much attention to the development of the characters and scenery (thank god for my notes). Looking back at the character of Guy Montag, I feel that it didn’t fulfill the potential it was given during Part 1. This may be because of the fact that when starting the book, the reader witnesses Montag change his mind about burning books quite quickly. I would have loved to see more resistance to his curiosity or more loyalty to the ‘law’ . However, I do think that the development you witness later on later on in Parts 2&3 is much better. We witness Montag lose complete control as he becomes more erratic and inarticulate; thus the results of his actions are quite horrific; for example, when he finds himself burning his captain (Beatty) to death. However, it also gives us a glimpse into his deepest desires to rebel against the status quo and find a meaningful way to live.

Favourite quote?

This was super hard to choose. In fact are so many quotes from this book that I felt were absolutely amazing so I will definitely be posting those separately from this. My all time favorite quote though was 

“What is there about fire that is so lovely? No matter what age we are, what draws us to it?” - 

Beatty, Part II - The Sieve and the Sand.

[western-writer]

After the Fall: War Within Family

Fandom Far Cry 5/New Dawn

Warnings: mentions of abuse, drug addiction, and sex addiction, general angst, brief mention of suicide

A/N: this is long lol. Just warning you. I’m honestly really proud of this and hope anyway reading it loves this as much as I do. Like all my writing, this is my own idea and Braeden is my OC for Far Cry 5. This is unedited so there may be mistakes. Should I make a second part? Enjoy!

Summary: Braeden is riddled with guilt and remorse for her actions before the collapse. With the death of the Seeds, her friends, and coworkers on her mind, she retreats into herself for seventeen years, only to be brought out of it by Joseph himself. After finding out some alarming news, Braeden is left feeling betrayed by a person she thought you would never feel that from.

I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was going to save everyone, save the county. I was wrong. I was very, very wrong. Jacob tried to stop me, begged me to stay. That was the first and last time I had ever heard him beg. 

Now I wish I had listened. 

“You don’t need to do this, Braeden,” Jacob spoke softly to me. His face wore an expression I was unfamiliar with. “You have me. You have John and Faith. Isn't that enough? Joseph can only do so much without us.”

I spun around to actually look at him, instead of looking at him through the mirror. “Yes, I do, Jake. I tried to be reasonable. I tried to get him to stop of his own free will and he refused. It doesn’t matter if he can’t do much on his own. He can do enough and the county deserves to live in peace.”

I took a few steps toward him and cupped his face. He was beginning to worry me. “Please be careful...”

“I will. Go to your bunker. I made sure the Peggies cleared out so it should be safe. John and Faith are already preparing to leave in the safety of their bunkers. You should too.”

He pressed a kiss to my lips, soft and hesitant.

That was the last time I saw Jacob. I left to go face Joseph with the support of Whitehorse, Pratt, and Hudson. Joseph had taken my friends, the members of the Resistance, and it was a battle to get them back. Eventually, it was all of us against Joseph and he didn't stand a chance. As he made his final speech, crawling across the ground bloody and bruised, I checked my watch. I was supposed to meet the others in ten minutes. I was running behind schedule. 

I watched as Whitehorse put Joseph under arrest and Joseph spoke a few words to me. I couldn’t really hear him over the howl of the wind and the sound of a bomb exploding in the distance.

That was the moment I knew I fucked up.    

Whitehorse ushered us into the truck while Nick and the others took off in other directions.

I tried to get us to safety. I tried to get us to Dutch, but I crashed. I was knocked unconscious and when I came to the others were dead and Joseph was gone. Joseph ripped me out of the truck and I was in and out of consciousness until we reached Dutch’s bunker. There, when I came to fully, I saw that Dutch had been killed by Joseph. 

Joseph became my family that day. My only family. I was sure that John, Jacob, and Faith were dead. 

Joseph and I were stuck in that bunker together for over five years. Over the course of those years, I changed, Joseph changed me. He told me he forgave me for turning his family against him, but I never quite believed him. I still don't.

I haven’t said a word since right after the bombs destroyed the world, nor have I shown my face. I left myself behind when the door to that bunker sealed shut and I lost everyone I loved. After everything I did... I deserve this.

The Twins were quick to move into the valley and New Eden, Joseph’s new following, fought The Highwaymen until they extinguished the fire in Joseph’s statue that I had destroyed years ago. They lost faith in Joseph, despite still being completely loyal to him, even after he left us. They’re scared, and I don’t blame them. The Highwaymen aren’t like Eden’s Gate was all those years ago. They aren’t taking over for the greater good, or what they think is the greater good. Unlike Eden’s Gate, The Highwaymen are self-absorbed. They care about their survival and their survival only.

News of outsiders in the county traveled fast and word of some “Captain of Security” giving The Highwaymen hell circulated through the compound. Whoever she is, she reminded me of me when I caused trouble for Eden’s Gate. Sometimes I miss those days, but most days I don’t.

“I know you’ve heard of this Captain of Security,” Ethan muttered to me inside his living quarters. “She intrigues you, does she not?” He turned to look at me. I just stared at him. “My father has told me about you and him before the collapse.” I stiffened up at the mention. I never talk about that. Never. I never want anyone inside these walls to know who I used to be. I’m ashamed of it. “She’s a bit like you, isn’t she Deputy?” 

The name hit my ears like nails on a chalkboard. It pulled memories out of the deep pit in my mind causing an acid taste to hit my mouth. I glared at him through my mask. If I could’ve, I would’ve yelled at him. Shouted that he doesn’t know anything, but not talking for nearly seventeen years does a number on your vocal cords. Instead, I clenched my fist and he got the message, brushing it off with a chuckle. 

“I have received word that the Captian will be coming here to seek our assistance with The Highwaymen. You remember what to do when an outsider wishes to come inside these walls, correct?”

I nodded. 

“Good. I doubt she will succeed, but I guess we will find out.” 

Ethan walked away from me at that point. My glare followed him as he disappeared out of sight.

Not long after that, the Captain appeared at our door, but I turned her away just as I had been instructed to do. Everyone was surprised when she came back with the Book of Joseph and I had to let her in. Ethan instructed her to bring back proof that Joseph was dead. He wanted his father to be dead so badly so that he could take over for good, but that didn’t happen. Joseph was alive and well and Ethan was furious when New Eden rallied behind him once again. 

After that, I began to accompany the Captain on her journey to take down the Twins. It had been a long time since I had done anything like that. It felt good to get away from New Eden and away from Ethan. It gave me a distraction. And God knows I needed it. 

***

“You see that sniper up there?” Cap asks me, pointing to a tower on the other side of the Chop Shop. I nod to her. “Take it out.”

I break into action and sprint to the tower silently. I was a bit rusty when we first teamed up, but my old instincts have kicked in once again and I’m back to kicking ass just like I used to.

Maybe John was right. Maybe I am wrath. 

My arrow lands in the neck of the Highwayman and he crumples to the ground, bleeding out silently. I look back to Cap and watch her takedown of the Highwaymen with a shield. She picks it up and throws it at another Highwaymen. I can hear the crack of her neck as it snaps from the force of the throw. 

“You hear that Joseph Seed is back?” I hear one of the Highwaymen mention to another, blissfully unaware of their dead colleagues. 

“Who hasn’t?” the other responds. “You hear about the sighting of what people are believing are the other Seeds?” 

I nearly choke on air at that.

“What?” 

“Yeah, people are seeing what they think are other three Seeds up north.”

“C’mon, you don’t really believe that, do ya? There’s no way they’re still alive.”

“Of course I don’t believe it. I just think those people drank a little too much ethanol.”

Being distracted, I didn’t even realize I was being snuck up on until I felt the buzz of a bullet fly past me and land in the head of a Highwaymen. I look back at Cap who motions for me to charge. She’s taken out the alarms. 

I do as I’m told and jump a barricade. Within mere minutes we have taken back Fall’s End-I mean the Chop Shop. 

I stand in front of what used to be the Spread Eagle, thinking about when I first met Mary May and Pastor Jerome. I had saved them from the peggies that had taken Fall’s End. Then I shared a drink with them right there in that bar. 

I wonder how Jerome is doing. I know Mary May died, as did most of my friends when the bombs dropped. I haven’t seen any of the living ones since that final battle with Joseph. I refuse to enter Prosperity. I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle seeing John’s Ranch.  

I remember when I took John’s ranch from the cult. John was so upset with me. He threw every insult he could at me and got even angrier when I didn’t react. I wonder if he’s ever forgiven me for taking his home away from him. 

I wouldn’t forgive me for that.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” Cap questions me, pulling me from my thoughts. I glance at her, then back to the ruins of the bar and shrug. “You don’t say much, do ya?” I shake my head. “Joseph told me you haven’t spoken since right after the bombs dropped. Is that true?”

I nod slightly in response. 

“Why?” 

I shake my head and look around what used to be Fall’s End while thinking, You wouldn’t understand. 

She sighs, slinging her gun over her back. “I’m going back to Prosperity. You comin’?” 

I shake my head again. She’s told me who’s there. I want to see everyone, but they wouldn’t recognize me. I’m not the Deputy anymore. I’m the Judge. I couldn’t stand to have them see me how I am now. I shell of what I once was. I couldn’t stand to see John’s ranch. 

“You’re gonna have to go there eventually, Judge. What if the Twins attack it and we need your help?” 

I shrug again and at this point, I can tell she’s irritated with me. 

“Fine, do what you want. I’ll be at Prosperity getting a hot meal and some sleep if you need me.”

I want to tell her everything. Tell her that I was like her once. Naive in the mindset that I could save the county. But instead of saving it, I caused the apocalypse. I ruined the whole world and destroyed myself in the process. I caused the death of so many of the people I cared about. Why did I get to live? 

Maybe that’s why Jacob had tried to convince me to not stop Joseph. Maybe he knew what would’ve happened if I did, but couldn’t tell me, or didn’t want to tell me for some reason. 

Why didn’t I listen to him? 

***

I make it back to New Eden and immediately go to my bed. My stomach grumbles, but I ignore it. My tiredness trumps my hunger as I fall asleep the moment my head hits my pillow.

I wake back up to see Joseph standing next to my bed and holding a bowl of soup.

“I noticed you did not stop to eat,” he mentions. I sit up and take the bowl from him. He sits down next to me as I move my mask up to eat. He chuckles a bit and glances at me. “You know, I never thought that you would actually stick to your vow of silence. When you stopped talking to me, I thought you were angry with me for some reason, but then when we came topside and I saw that you wouldn’t speak to anybody, I was sure it wouldn’t last more than a few weeks. But you proved me wrong.”

He places a hand on my shoulder as I eat.

“Their deaths were not your fault. None of them. Not my siblings, not your coworkers, not your friends. The collapse would’ve happened one way or another. We just sped up the process.”

I want to ask him how he’s so sure, but I can’t seem to get the words to leave my mouth.

“Do not keep punishing yourself, Braeden. It is not what Jacob would’ve wanted. It’s not what any of them would’ve wanted.” With that, Joseph walks away and I’m left in my thoughts. I haven’t been called by my real name for a long time. It felt strange to hear it, especially from Joseph, the one who rebranded me as the Judge. 

It’s insane to think that that crazy son of a bitch could’ve ended up being my brother-in-law one day. Jacob and I had never talked about marriage; we never really got a chance to talk about our future together. I doubt the man would’ve wanted to be married, especially being in his late forties by the time we got together. I wouldn’t have blamed him for that. Being with him was enough for me. A piece of paper saying that we were legally bonded together would never have changed anything, and I’m sure Jacob felt the same way. Jacob wasn’t always vocal about how he felt about me, but he didn’t need to be. He showed his love by his actions and he was incredibly good at it. I understood his love language better than most people did, maybe even John and Joseph, but I also got to see a part of him they never did. I loved him. I still do. No one will ever be able to replace him. 

I loved John and Faith, too. I love Joseph, despite everything he has done. 

He’s right. Jacob wouldn’t want this for me, especially this long after the Collapse. None of them would’ve wanted this. 

After that night, I decided to take Joseph’s advice. In private, I began working on being able to talk again. Not speaking for so many years took a hard toll on my vocal cords and for a while, I began to think that I had lost the ability. No matter how hard I tried, the words just wouldn’t come out. 

It wasn’t until I stumbled upon what’s left of John’s bunker that I finally spoke. It was the only bunker accessible, the other two being stuck inside the radiation zones and making it impossible to reach, even with Eden’s Gift. 

Seeing it in ruins like this makes me unreasonably emotionally. I stand at the top, staring into the flooded hole in the ground. Memories pour back. When I first met saw them in the church when we arrived in Hope County. When I seized control of his house singlehandedly. Me, never being able to stop apologizing for that. When John first found out about Jacob and me. 

I still remember the look on his face when we decided that we were leaving the valley after Joseph was stopped. I could tell he was devastated. I don’t blame him, though. I promised him happiness, a life where he’s not a herald. 

At least one of those things came through. He’s not a herald any more.

“I’m sorry, John...” I choke out, my voice rough and raspy. Tears fall down my face and I rip my mask off. “I... I j-just wanted you all t-to be h-h-happy and I-I-I fa-iled.”

“John? Who’s John?” I hear Cap’s voice behind me. I glance back and see her coming up the hill. “Judge, is that you?”

I wipe the tears from my face. “Ye-ah, Cap, It is.”

“You’re talking!” she exclaims. 

I laugh a bit. “I am.” 

“Who’s John?” I look back at the broken bunker. 

“He would’ve been my brother-in-law if life had been kinder.”

As I talk, it gets easier and quicker, too. 

“Ew, did you have a thing with Joseph?” 

I laugh. “No, no.” I turn and face her. “Have you heard stories of the Deputy that nearly saved this county singlehandedly back before the Collapse?”

“Of course I have, Kim and Nick never shut up about her.”

“I was that Deputy, Cap.” 

She looks as if she’s about to choke on air. “W-what?” 

“I was the Deputy. My downfall was falling in love with the oldest Seed, Jacob. Joseph wouldn’t stop what he was doing and after he was stopped, I was going to leave the county with Jacob, Faith, and John,” I look at the bunker. “But the Collapse started before I could get to them and I believe they died that day. I was stuck in a bunker with Joseph where the guilt and mourning ate me up until I became this, the Judge. Joseph certainly didn’t help.” 

“I never would’ve guessed that you were the Deputy.” 

“Most people don’t and haven’t. The only ones that do are Joseph and Ethan.”

She takes a few steps toward me. “That’s why the other day at the outpost you got distracted when those Highwaymen were talking about the rumor that the other Seeds are alive.”

I nod. 

“How are you so sure they aren’t alive?” 

“I missed our meeting time. They would’ve been topside and away from safety when the bombs dropped.”

“But are you sure?” 

“Please don’t get my hopes up, Cap. I’ve spent the last seventeen years mourning these people and feeling responsible for their deaths. Do you know something I’m unaware of?”

“Well... I wasn’t gonna say anything, but knowing what I know now...”

“Tell me!”

She sighs, crossing her arms. “I was up north a few days ago and... I saw what those Highwaymen were talking about.” 

“What!?” 

“I don’t know how, but I think they’re alive.”

*** 

My first steps into Prosperity feel strange. It feels like I’m coming home yet arriving at a completely unfamiliar place at the same time. My mask stays on as I look at what they’ve done to John’s ranch. I’d like to think that he would like it. 

I walk around and find so many familiar faces that I almost feel overwhelmed by it. I don’t know how I should do this. Should I expose my identity to everyone all at once or do it one at a time?  

Now that I think about it, all at once may be too overwhelming. One at a time it is. 

My eyes wander over the sea of faces before they land on one that causes an indescribable feeling to shoot through my body. It’s Sharky. My crazy pyromaniac best friend. My ride or die for as long as I was the Deputy. 

His back is to me when I walk over to him alone in the explosives lab, but he turns when he feels me getting close to him. He eyes me, unable to figure out what to make of me. 

“Who the fuck are you?” he asks. His words would sound aggressive if you didn’t know Sharky like I do. Or did. Good thing I know better than to think that he’s being an asshole. 

My hand reaches up for my mask and grasps it firmly. He’s looking at me strangely and I lift it up barely enough for my mouth to show. 

“Hi, Shark,” I whisper. 

His expression changes quickly. “Shorty?” he whispers back. Finally, I get the nerve to take my mask off all the way and I do. He wraps me in a bear hug when he sees my face, and he tells me he’s not crying when I feel wetness hit my neck, but I know Sharky too well. When we pull away his eyes are filled with tears, just like mine. He holds my shoulders, staring at me. 

“I missed you too, Shark.”

“What the hell happened to ya, Brae?” 

I hold up a hand and shake my head. “That a long story for another time. Just know that I’m back.”

A huge smile spreads across his face and he pulls me into a hug again. 

One by one, I go to everyone and show them who I am. Then, I get to Nick, Kim, and Carmina. 

She grew up into such a beautiful woman, Carmina did.

“The Captain brought you in, right?” Kim says, sparing a glance at me as the three of them have their backs to me and are looking at a map or something. For a moment I forget my mask is back on. 

“Mhm,” I answer. 

“Great, well, welcome to Prosperity. I’m sure you’ll be of great help. I’m Kim, the unofficial leader of our community. This is Nick, my husband, and our daughter-”

As she was talking and slowly took my mask off. Then, I finished the sentence for her. “Carmina,” I say. “Heard that name once or twice.”

My mask drops to the ground and the three of them turn to look at me. Nick and Kim stare at me in awe for a second, seemingly unable to move before they both spring forward and wrap me in a tight hug. 

“Braeden, is that really you?” Kim questions, sniffling. I nod to her. 

“Braeden...?” Carmina says. “You don’t mean that this is...?” 

“Yes, honey,” Nick says. “This is Braeden Creed. Your godmother.” 

Without hesitation, Carmina hugs me. And when I say it was the best feeling in the world, I don’t mean it lightly. 

***

“Where have you been all this time, Braeden?” Nick asks after I got into a change of clothes. Those old rags I had been wearing were beginning to be uncomfortable. They sit around a fire, eating, and I join them, being handed a plate.

“I’ve been up in New Eden,” I answer. “After the bombs, I was stuck in Dutch’s bunker with Joseph. I... I felt guilty. I blamed myself for everything. For the end of the world, for the death of my coworkers. For the death of Adelaide, Mary May, Jess, Dutch, Eli. For Jacob, John, and Faith. I was mourning the loss of the people I loved while feeling responsible for it at the same time and Joseph took advantage of that.”

“Why for the Seeds?” Grace asks me. “What made you feel like it was your fault they were dead?” 

I sigh. “The day we went to stop Joseph, I was supposed to meet with them after and we were gonna leave. Leave the county. I missed our meeting time and they would’ve had to have been topside and away from safety by the time the bombs dropped.” I set my food down, suddenly not being hungry anymore. “Jacob had pleaded with me to not confront Joseph that day. Maybe he knew what would happen if I did, I dunno, but he begged me not to and Jacob never begged. He was too proud for that.” 

“But, if he knew what would’ve happened, why would he have let himself die?” Carmina asks. 

I shrug a bit. “Jacob was fully prepared to give up his life for Joseph’s throughout the war. And he didn’t even really know if he believed that Joseph could talk to God.” 

“That’s one thing about Jacob,” Hurk cuts in. “He never needed a reason for anything.” 

“Ain’t that the truth,” I respond.

The more I think about Carmina’s question, though, the more it makes sense. He wouldn’t have just let his family die. Not if he could have prevented it. Maybe Carmina’s on to something here. 

Maybe the others really are alive.

*** 

I stare at John’s house, still in awe of how good of shape it’s in, even all these years later. The Ranch is still as beautiful as it’s ever been. Kim has taken such good care of it.  

“Do you think he’d mind that we moved into his house?” I hear Carmina behind me. I turn to look at her and she hands me a cup with something in it. 

“What?” I ask, my voice cracking a bit, making her laugh as I take the cup. “Sorry. Rusty vocal cords.” I crack a grin at her and she smiles back. 

“Do you think John would mind that we moved into his house?”

“That’s a good question. I had never really thought about it. If I’m being honest, I think he would’ve preferred this to it ending up like a lot of the other structures around here.”

I place my cup on my leg, smiling sadly at the house. 

“I remember when I took this place from the cult,” I mention to her. “Jacob and I were nothing more than two smartasses flirting with each other, and John was furious. Called me every name under the sun and more and me not reacting to it made it worse. I thought it was hilarious.” My face falls a bit. “Eventually he got it back, but he didn’t get to enjoy it much. I knew he was mad at me still and even when he said he was over it, I never quite believed him. The Resistance had destroyed a lot of his property: his plane, family photos.” 

Carmina looks at me for a second before pulling something out of her pocket. “Here,” she says, handing me a photo. “I found it in the master bedroom in a safe. When you find them, you can give this to him.” 

I glance down at it and find a family photo of him, Jacob, Joseph, and Faith. I smile and look back up. “Do you really think they’re alive?” 

“What I think doesn’t matter,” Carmina responds. “If you know, deep down, that they’re alive, that’s all that matters. Do you think they’re alive?” 

I look down at the photo and run my thumb over it. “I want to. But if they are then I spent all these years punishing myself and feeling guilty for they’re deaths. I’m scared that if they are alive, things won’t be the same.” 

Carmina stares at me for a second. “You’re afraid that Jacob won’t love you anymore. That’s it, right?” 

“I...” I pause, the realization hitting me. “Yeah... I am afraid of that. Terrified, actually. A lot can happen in seventeen years and I still love him with all my being. I don’t know what would happen if he didn’t love me anymore.”

“I’ve heard about how you and Jacob were. And from what I’ve heard, it seemed like he really loved you. Not just any kind of love, either, no. The kind of love that can and would survive the end of the world. If he’s out there, there’s not a doubt in my mind that he would love you the same, even after seventeen years.”

Carmina’s words of encouragement stuck me with me over the next weeks as we started our search while simultaneously fighting the Highwaymen. Even New Eden is searching, wanting to bring the beloved heralds home. For a long time we turned up empty and I was beginning to lose hope. Then another sighting would happen and the process would start over. It began to feel like I was chasing ghosts.

“Times like this is when I wish I had one of my old guns for hire or fangs for hire” I mutter as me and the Captian steak out an outpost. 

She glances at me. “Who were yours?” 

“Well, for my guns for hire I had Sharky, Nick, Hurk, Adelaide, which was Hurk’s mom and Sharky’s aunt, Grace, a girl named Jess, a dog named Boomer, a cougar named Peaches, and a bear named Cheeseburger.” 

“Sharky was a gun for hire?”

“Well of course. He and I were best friends. Loved to fuck shit up on the cult’s expense. I remember this one time-” My recollection gets cut short when commotion starts in the outpost. We watch as cheering spreads through the outpost. One by one, we see prisoners being dragged in. I grab my makeshift binoculars so I can get a better look and that’s when I spot a familiar blonde being dragged in. The green eyes were a dead give away, if the hair wasn’t. 

I smack Cap’s arm and she gets annoyed at me before seeing my expression. 

“That’s Faith,” I breath. “It’s Faith.” 

“Let’s go raise some hell, then.”

Faces blur together as I take them out one by one, making my way to Faith as fast as I can. It feels as if time as slowed down as bullets fly out of my gun, embedding themselves in the flesh and bone of the scumbag Highwaymen. Then my gun gets knocked out of my hands and I barely manage to dodge a swing as the bat connects with the metal behind me. I roll off to the side to put distance between me and my attacker when suddenly my gun comes sliding up to me. I look up, expecting to see Cap, but it’s not. 

It’s John. 

With a heavy breath and a smile, I pick up my gun and land a shot into the guy trying to kill me. After that, I jump to my feet and run over to him. 

“I’ve got the key to free the prisoners they’ve already put away,” he sighs quickly. “I’ll go get them and Faith. Just keep doing what you’re good at.”

He leaves me with a hand on my shoulder and the question, “Where’s Jacob”, hangs in the air but I stop myself. For now, I need to focus on killing these bad guys. 

I spin on my heel and fire off a few shots, dropping them like dead flies. The recoil of the gun feels familiar and for a second, Hope County is back to normal and I’m dropping Peggies faster than you could say Eden’s Gate. The memory waivers for a second before the scene in front of me turns back to normal and the last Highwaymen drops in a heap on the floor. 

I glance to my left and see John making his way over to me, Faith in tow. Her eyes light up when she sees me and I run over, crashing into both of them and wrapping them in a tight hug.

“Please tell me that Jacob is okay.”

I pull away from there and their expressions are unchanged, giving me hope. 

“He broke up away from the group when they were bringing us in and ran off,” Faith explains. 

“We’re not really sure where he is, but we know he’s okay. It’s Jacob,” John adds. 

Their eyes look past me and I hear heavy footsteps behind me. Turning around quickly, I see him. 

I see Jacob. 

Jacob. 

My Jacob. 

It’s almost like he doesn’t believe his eyes when he looks at me, but an emotion washes over him that I’ve never seen on him before. A look of confusion, mixed with pure joy and happiness. 

I can barely contain myself and find myself crashing into his chest. Even seventeen years later, the man is well built and takes my impact without budging. My arms snake around his neck and I hold on like he might disappear if I let go, and a part of me might believe that. 

“I thought you were dead, all of you,” I whisper to him. “I thought I had gotten all of you killed.”

“You can’t get rid of us that easily, sweetheart,” he says into my ear. His voice... I missed his voice so much.

I feel something wet on my face and it takes a minute to realize what they are. 

Tears. 

I haven’t cried in years.

“I wouldn’t want to.” 

“Braeden, backup’s on its way! We need to go!” I hear Cap yell to me. I gather myself quickly and nod to her. “We’ve got a ride waiting on the road on the other side but we have to make it there in one piece!”

I let out a loud, ear busting, whistle, pulling the attention of the survivors around us. “Listen up! Highwaymen have reinforcements on the way so if you wanna  live, you’ll follow us!”

The group of us run up into the tree where Cap and I were waiting and just as she said multiple trucks are waiting for us and we all pile in. 

“Braeden, you’re bleeding,” Cap points out from across the bed of me. 

I look down, seeing a gash in my upper right arm. 

“When that person tried to take me out with the bat, the metal he hit must’ve buckled and cut me...”

“Well, I guess it’s good we helped Selene out so she can patch you up when we get back.”

“Back where?” Faith asks.

“Our base,” Cap answers. 

“Yeah... John, you may not like this...”

***

The moment we’re through the door to Prosperity, Carmina’s on me, clinging to me for life. 

“We heard what happened through the radio. I was so scared we lost you.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“What happened to my house...?” John mutters, looking at me. 

“Hey, don’t look at me. I had nothing to do with this.”

A little bit later we sit down for dinner and the three of them start interrogating me.

“So, all three of them died...?” Jacob questions me, talking about Whitehorse, Pratt, and Hudson.”

“Yeah,” I breath out. “The truck crashed when I was driving us to Dutch’s bunker and, well, when I came to, it was too late...”

“Wait, then how did you survive?” John asks. 

I smile a bit and look down at my food. “Joseph. He pulled me out of the truck. Unfortunately, I was trapped in that damn bunker with him and it changed me.”

“Changed you...?” Faith says. 

I stir my food around, debating on whether I should tell them or not. “For the last seventeen years, I felt guilty and responsible for the collapse, for the death of you guys, my coworkers, my friends-everything. I became a shell of what I was. Stopped talking, never showed my face.” I glance over at Jacob. “It wasn’t until Joseph came to me a few months ago and told me that none of it was my fault and to stop punishing myself...” 

“Braeden... did Joseph ever tell you what he tried to do?” Jacob asks me. 

I feel my stomach drop at his tone and cautiously, I question him. “No, he didn’t. Why? What did he do?” 

“He tried to convince us to stay... to stay hidden in our bunkers while he fought you. Tried to convince us to not leave,” Faith answers. “We didn’t listen to him and John and I, we went to meet Jacob at his bunker so we could go meet you together, but when we went to leave, there was a small army of followers outside that kept us from leaving.”

I stare at her, trying to make sense of what she just told me. 

“Joseph sent the followers, Braeden,” John continues. “He’s known this whole time that we were alive.” 

Once the realization hits me, I feel the rage bubble inside me-my wrath. I slam my bowl down, spilling what was left inside of it, and jump to my feet. “That son of a bitch let me believe that you were dead for the last seventeen fucking years. Let me feel guilty and responsible for your deaths and mourn the loss of all of you at the same time. He had the audacity to look me in my face and tell me that your deaths weren’t my fault. All while knowing that you’re alive!?” I pause for a moment, looking at them for a second. “I’m gonna kick his teeth down his throat and rip his fingernails out.”

*** 

They tried to stop me. They really tried, but they should know better than to stop me while I’m indulging in my wrath. 

I was an unstoppable force when I stormed into New Eden for the first time in months with the other Seeds in tow. New Edeners were stunned to see my face as I blew past them in search of Joseph. 

Ethan tried to get in my way when I found them, which was a major mistake. I shoved his bitch ass so hard into the wall that it seemed like the wall cracked under the pressure. 

Joseph’s face was priceless when he saw the others and even better when slammed his back into the wall behind me. My rage was nearly palpable as I stared at him. 

“You,” I seethed. 

“What did I-?” 

I pull him forward and slam him into the wall again. “YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT YOU DID,” I roar at him. “For all these years, all these FUCKING YEARS you let me believe that they were dead and for what? To make me into your fucking monkey!?”

Joseph falls quiet for a second. “I wanted you to feel my pain. To feel what I felt when you turned them against me. I never meant for it to get this far.”

“Yeah!? And what the fuck did you mean to happen!?” 

“I wanted to tell you! I wanted to find them, but the further you fell into yourself the harder it became.” 

“Yeah? And what about them? What about leaving them trapped in that bunker for years!?” 

“I never intended for they’re exit to be blocked! Believe me, I tried to move the rocks time and time again, but I am only one man! It was by the Grace of God that an earthquake came through and uncovered the doorway.”

“You’re a piece of shit, Joseph. Fuck you for what you did to me and fuck you for what you did to your siblings. I didn’t turn them against you, Joseph. You did that yourself by refusing to see that truth. You’re lucky I don’t put you out of our misery right now.” 

I back away, glaring at him as I do. The rage eventually subsides and all I'm left to feel it betrayed. 

Who would’ve thought that I could feel betrayed by Joseph Fucking Seed?

What a joke. 

[marshmallow-phd]

Lies Untold

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Supernatural, Wolf Au

Pairing: Luhan x Reader

Summary: For generations, your family has been the protectors of mankind. You were considered one of the best and due to that reputation, you were sent on what could be the most important mission for the organization. Going under cover in a college to sniff out a particularly large and threatening wolf pack seemed easy enough. But when you meet one of the members, everything you’ve known since birth will be overturned and your loyalty to your family and heritage will be tested.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I 13 I 14 I Final

**

You were pretty sure this wasn’t going to work, but any alternative seemed just as stupid.

Clipboard in hand along with a fake syllabus you’d spent all last night making, you marched up to the front desk of the museum. Well, not really “marched”. You were trying to give off the impression that you were a nervous, harmless college student, so it was more like a slow shuffle up to the woman who held the key to your target.

“Excuse me?” you said quietly. You kept your gaze down, only flicking it up for a second or so to look at the museum worker.

She smiled at you. “Yes, how can I help you?”

You cleared your throat. “I’m, uh, I’m supposed to be doing this project on ancient Greek pottery for class and our professor is giving us extra credit if we use the examples that were supposed to be on display here, but I guess they’ve been taken down?” Thank you, overly helpful museum bulletin for that nice piece of information. “I didn’t realize that when I started my paper and I’m already falling behind in this class and I just – I really need – do you think-” You putting on the fully blown desperation act. If you kept going the snot and tears would be flowing soon enough.

Sympathy was written clear as day all over the secretary’s face. “Oh, dear. Give me a moment and let me see if the curator is here. I’m sure we can let you see the vases for a few minutes.”

“Thank you,” you hiccuped. Scurrying out of her seat, the secretary left the main lobby and disappeared into another part of the museum.

Now along, you quickly surveyed her desk. The keycard you were searching for was lying conspicuously right next to the mouse for the taking. But you had to leave it there. Snatching it right now would be too obvious. However….

As nonchalantly as you could, you knocked over the display of pencils that were resting in a mug with the museum’s logo printed on the smooth surface. Just as you were hoping, it clattered onto the desk, spilling the pencils everywhere.

Keeping up appearances for the camera, you hurried to the other side, clumsily trying to put them all back in the cup. While one hand was occupied with the mess, the other was working on opening the drawers as sneakily as possible.

Bingo.

Three extra keycards were lying there in the drawer, just waiting to be taken. You pocketed one and then closed the drawer before putting the mug back and rounding the desk once more. Phase One: complete.

A minute or so later, the secretary was back, along with the curator of the museum. She was a kind looking woman, in her fifties or so. You almost felt a little bad for lying and taking from her. Almost.

Guilt was certainly an emotion that followed you around lately. Its point of origin was one that you didn’t want to think about. Going into that part of your mind… it was too dangerous. A fog would begin to take over your thoughts and you didn’t know up from down, wrong from right. Everything grayed together with no visible way of separating it again. It was best to stay out of that mindset as much as you could.

“I’m told that you’re supposed to be doing a project on Greek pottery?” the curator asked.

You nodded, holding out your clipboard for her to see. “It’s a pretty big paper. I need to do well on it if I want to pass the class. It’s not my major, but-”

“That’s alright, dear,” the curator smiled at you. “Just follow me.” Without really waiting to see if you were behind her, the curator led you straight to the back door that you’d seen the alpha slip into before. Maybe you didn’t need the keycard after all.

Sliding her own keycard that was clipped to her jacket’s lapel, the curator opened that forbidden door and motioned for you to go inside.

The left side of the long hallway was dotted with doors also locked up tight, but instead of just being able to swipe the card again, each door was secured by a keypad that required the right number sequence to enter.

Crap.

To make matters even more difficult, the curator covered the keypad so you wouldn’t accidentally see the code she was typing in. Not that it would help you at all. Each door probably had its own sequence. And you didn’t need to get to the pottery. You needed another door that held something even more valuable.

In the room you didn’t really need to enter were rows and rows of faded, cracked pottery safely guarded behind thick glass that was padlocked shut. On the table in the middle was a two-hundred-plus catalog explaining each piece’s history.

“I’ll let you spend some time in here,” she said. “You may take pictures, but, please, don’t use your flash, and let me know if you have any questions.”

“Thank you so much!” you smiled. “You’re a life saver!”

The curator waved your compliment off, but seemed extremely pleased to be praised. She left you alone as promised without another word. Your lips snapped back into their normal neutral state.

Now what?

You still didn’t know which door you needed to get through and now you had another obstacle standing in your way. You were going to need outside help again.

Shoving the clipboard into your bag, you turned the handle and propped the door open with your bag so you didn’t accidentally lock yourself out. Technology was definitely not your strong suit, but even you could tell that hacking this dinosaur of a keypad wasn’t going to be easy. You pulled out your phone, taking a few pictures of the pad from different angles and sending them off to Carter before dialing his number.

“You sure are racking up the favors now, aren’t you?” was his greeting.

“Shut up,” you hissed. “I’ve hit another snag, that’s all. I’m pretty sure the book is behind a lock like the one I sent you. But I don’t have a way of getting the code.”

“Did you look to see which numbers are faded?” Carter asked snarkily.

You mimicked him quietly before replying, “From what I can see, none of them are faded enough to give me even an inkling of what the combination could be.”

“Welp, you’re SOL.”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s an older basic model,” he explained. “No port for maintenance, so no hacking it from there. It doesn’t work wirelessly from what I can see, so you can’t get in that way either.”

“Fan-freaking-tastic,” you growled through clenched teeth. “I might as well just break the door down.”

“Now that doesn’t sound very subtle.”

Before you could retort, the sound of the main door’s keypad beeping reached your ears. You hung up with Carter without even saying goodbye and rushed back into the room, shoving the door closed. But it wasn’t the curator coming to check up on you.

Two male voices passed by your door, making your ears perk up.

“I don’t know. I just don’t think there’s any more in the book about them that we don’t already know, Junmyeon.” At the sound of Luhan’s voice, your heart lept in your chest and it wasn’t out of nervousness. You pressed a hand over it as if to try and calm or quiet it down. Such a simple thing like hearing his voice shouldn’t be making you react like this. The thick gray fog was starting to cloud your mind again and you almost missed the vital information about to be passed in front of you.

“I know. But there might be something about hunters in there that we missed.” A heavy sigh came after that comment. “I’ve never heard of them actually sending someone undercover before. They’ve always preferred to just attack in numbers. I don’t know how to fight this.”

So, they knew about you. Well, at least partially. Shit. Now you were going to have to be even more careful. You felt like a sitting duck. You couldn’t go home with your tail between your legs just because the wolves started sniffing around. Johnny would never let you hear the end of it, even if your parents said it was okay to put personal safety first. No, you had to stay and see this through.

At least, that’s what you told yourself was keeping you here.

When you heard another door open, you decided that was your time to leave. Checking to make sure the hallway was clear, you quietly made your way out back into the main lobby. You nodded to the secretary, who waved goodbye to you, completely unaware that you were walking out with one of her precious keycards.

As soon as you were out on the front steps, however, a hand grabbed your wrist. Whirling around, you tried to break the hold, but your heel lost balance on the edge of the first step, nearly sending you backwards until Luhan caught you around your waist.

“Whoa, there!” he chuckled as he steadied the two of you out.

Now your mind was really messed up. Standing there, slightly leaned back while Luhan hovered over you with his arm around you was making you feel… somehow calm and in hyper drive at the same time. The instinct to fight and get away from the supernatural wolf was being beaten by something else that couldn’t be named. A shimmer in Luhan’s eyes brought you back to your senses, pushing him away.

“Don’t you know better than to just randomly grab people?” you snapped.

“I’m sorry.” But there wasn’t really any apologetic evidence in his face. He was looking at you with a soft expression that had never been sent your way before. You didn’t like it.

“Did you need something?” You crossed your arms. Your gut reaction whenever he was around was to put up a titanium wall that couldn’t be stormed through. What could possible happen if you didn’t was an experience you weren’t sure you could live through.

“I-” He stopped. “Just checking on you. Since you left rather quickly last week.”

“I’m fine,” you reassured him a little curtly. “But I have to go.”

He nodded. “I’ll see you later.” Shoulders drooping, he turned and headed back inside the museum. Your foot took a step towards him involuntarily before you could stop yourself. You blinked.

What were you doing? Get out of there!

Forcing yourself to turn back around, you flitted down the steps and to the bus stop where you could get away from the area as fast as possible. You ignored the rattling of the window as you pressed your forehead up against the cool glass. Understanding was starting to come to you, thought you still couldn’t fully explain it. There was just something about that boy – that wolf – that was stirring up your stomach and making your heart flutter. You felt calmer after looking into those dravite eyes. Like the world and time themselves were no longer moving and you didn’t have to worry about what was coming next because you at least had that moment.

But you did have to worry. The wolves now knew that there was a hunter under their noses, learning about them. You didn’t know if they knew that you were trying to get to their closely guarded secret. The one you now knew for sure was kept in the museum. And maybe that could still give you the advantage. Would you be able to carry out your mission and get away without blowing your cover?

Did you even want to succeed anymore?

The idea of letting everyone back home down was just adding to your stress. Some would be quick to label you a coward. Others would just shrug and say they knew it would be a failure from the beginning. Most believed that the straightforward approach was best. Ambush the pack and take them out. None of this sneaking around and playing games for those people like Johnny, who couldn’t care less about the book and its secrets.

Maybe the reason they preferred it that way was because then they could stay disconnected. They didn’t see them interact on a daily basis or watch them laugh and do basic human things. Was that what was going on with you? Were you becoming like John Smith or Sam Worthington’s character in Avatar? Were you simply becoming sympathetic to the wolves?

That didn’t explain the way Luhan plagued your mind or invaded your dreams. Nothing did. Except…

Once – when you were fifteen or so – your parents brought in another hunter to train you in archery. His name was Darien, a few years older than you, maybe in his early twenties or so, you couldn’t remember. He had dark blue eyes framed by jet black hair that made his features even more striking. With a tall stature and a body that he took great care of, it was no wonder that the other girls were jealous of your one-on-one tutoring. But none of that was the reason that you soon fell head over heels for him. It was how he handled the bow, how quick he could be, the best at combining speed and accuracy while maintaining grace in every movement. There was an elegance to the way he shot the arrows. Soon, your eyes started inserting a glow around his whole person every time you stared at him.

Looking back, you were utter humiliated at how upset you were when you found out he was already engaged to someone else, like you ever actually stood a chance. You were a kid, he was a grown adult. But you were convinced that you were in love him. Typical teenager angst.

That was the one and only time in your life that you’d ever felt those kinds of emotions towards someone and therefore that was all you had to compare with whatever it was that Luhan was doing to you.

But there was no comparison. Not really. The two incidents felt isolated, on completely different planets. With Darien, it was more of an adoration. No matter how hard you racked your brain, trying to figure it out, you couldn’t understand what the underlining definition of your emotions towards Luhan was.

Now back at your apartment after riding the bus around and around for a few hours, you found yourself standing in front of the bulletin board, contemplating where you should go from here. Part of you honestly just wanted to rip the whole thing down, tear it to shreds and run away.

No. You couldn’t do that. So, instead, you did the next best thing.

You took the board off the wall and stuffed it into your closet before swinging the door closed. You needed a drink.

Before leaving you changed into a more bar appropriate outfit, getting out of the innocent college student gear of a hoodie and jeans. Sliding your arms into your favorite jean jacket, you locked up behind you and began to walk towards the business district where a majority of the bars were located to give easy access to the university population.

You passed by the first few bars you came across, deciding that they were too full from your view through the windows. Being around crowds of careless drunks was not what you were wanting at the moment. Not that you would protest possibly throwing a punch at a drunk frat boy who thought he could invade your personal space because he worked out.

Remember, these methods are only to be used in self-defense came your mother’s voice in your head.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

The next bar that caught your eye was exactly where you didn’t need to go.

The Moonlight.

You should keep walking. You should not put yourself in any position to be closer to the confusing wolf. You should find another bar on the other side of town and –

You walked inside the bar, hating the fact that, while not empty and secluded, it definitely wasn’t as rowdy as the others you’d nixed. Maybe they weren’t even actually that full. Maybe your brain was self-consciously taking you here. What an idiot.

The next preventative step to avoid disaster would have been to sit at one of the small round tables as far away from the bar as you could get. So, naturally, you sat right down in Luhan’s section of the bar.

“What can I get you?” he asked in the most droll voice when he approached.

“What?” you frowned. “No friendly greeting? Not even a smile?” His unusually gruff demeanor was not what you expected – and you didn’t like it. Great, even more of a reason for that drink.

“From our run-in earlier, I didn’t think you were in a friendly mood,” he replied. “In fact, I’m kind of surprised to see you in here.”

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, looking down at your nails. There wasn’t much to pick at, but you managed to do so anyway. “I shouldn’t have treated you like that. Things are just… very complicated in my head right now.”

There was that smile you’d come to know. “Well, then. I guess you came to the right place to clear it up again.”

You pointed at him in a very un-menacing manner. “That’s the plan. So, can I get a whiskey and coke?”

Luahn made a face. “So boring.”

“I’m not drinking for pleasure.”

Still slightly smiling, Luhan narrowed his eyes at you before expertly flipping a short glass onto the bar, simultaneously filling it with whiskey from the large bottle and coke from the nozzle after adding ice. He slide the full glass over to your side. “There you go. A glass of boring sugar.”

Maybe you were being a little cheeky, you took the glass and gulped down the drink in just a few chugs, dropping it down on the bar with a slight clatter just for emphasis.

Luhan just stared at you. “That was fast.”

You shrugged. “I told you. I wasn’t drinking for pleasure.”

His look of awe slowly transformed into a look of concern. “What’s going on, (y/n)? You don’t seem like the kind of person who normally does this.”

“I….” You laughed. “I honestly don’t know how to describe it.” Because it’s all about you. “I just need to… not think for a little bit.”

“That’s not a healthy coping mechanism,” he pointed out.

“No, but I didn’t necessarily say I was looking for a healthy solution, now did I?” You didn’t think there was one anyway. Sitting here across from him was making it a little better, even if you were still just as confused. Maybe it wasn’t the alcohol that you needed in the end.

You weren’t a consistent drinker and that first glass was already starting to hit you. But when Luhan started filling up it up again, you didn’t protest. You did, however, take this one a little slower.

“Hae In’s going to throw a fit when she finds out you went out without her,” Luhan chuckled after walking away for a minute to help another patron.

“Oh, Innie will live,” you smiled.

Luhan frowned thoughtfully at the nickname. “Why do you call her that?”

You cringed, both from the sting of a particularly strong gulp and the question. “Well, when I was younger, I couldn’t pronounce Hae In very well. Or at all, really. So we came up with Innie as an alternative. It just kind of stuck ever since.”

“It’s cute.”

You pursed your lips. “Cute is not normally a word associated with me.”

Leaning forward, Luhan rested on his elbows, a smoldering gaze blazing in his eyes. “Well, I think you’re very cute.”

Okay. That was… flirty. Now you were blushing. You could actually feel your cheeks and neck burning up. But just as you opened your mouth, another customer called out for Luhan, making him straighten up and leave you alone to do his job. You downed the rest of the drink in a sad attempt to cool yourself down.

Fun fact: alcohol heats you up and now you were practically on fire. The jacket came off to help with the heat, draping it over the back of your chair for safe keeping.

You stayed for several hours, slowly sipping on another two drinks while talking to Luhan in between other patrons demanding his attention for refills. Though it was ultimately a short amount of time, it just might have been some of the best hours you’d ever spent on this planet. You’d laughed and smiled the whole time, getting to know Luhan on the human level that you never were meant to. But you didn’t care. You liked spending time with him like this. Why had you been so resistant to it in the past?

As the night grew older, you decided it was time to head home. Luhan’s own grin faded when he saw you get up from your seat. When you got to your feet, however, you started to wobble unsteadily and he hopped over the counter, using only one of his hands as a base on the bard before landing in front of you.

“Well, that was impressive,” you giggled. Oh, yeah. You weren’t drunk, per se, since you still had good control over yourself and there was only one Luhan, but you were definitely tipsy.

“Okay, I’m walking you home.” Luhan turned to tell his coworkers but you slapped his chest.

“No, I’m fine.”

He ignored you. “Hey, guys, I’m going to see her home since we’re pretty slow. Just put her tab on me.”

“Okay!” One of the female bartenders yelled back, waving the two of you goodbye.

Luhan waited for you to put on your jacket, snickering at your struggle, and then he escorted you out of the bar with a hand at the small of your back.

The night air felt so good against your skin. You walked in the direction of your apartment with ease, albeit still a little wobbly, just enjoying the quiet. It wasn’t quite closing time yet and so only those wanting to beat the crowds were heading to their cars or calling services to pick them up.

“I think I like you like this,” Luhan suddenly said.

You whipped your head at him, surprised. “Intoxicated?”

“Oh, no!” he laughed at his own slip up. “I just meant… more relaxed. You don’t seem like you’re looking for a way out this time.”

“That’s because I think I might give up looking for a way out,” you admitted.

Luhan stopped in his tracks. “You… what?”

But you didn’t elaborate. You just kept on walking in the direction of home, staring up above. The moon was getting smaller, waning more and more each night until it disappeared again. You hated that. You preferred big and bright, like a flashlight in the sky.

“So, are you going to stay? Here in town?” Luhan tried again.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “For now. While I can.”

The mood was dampening again, but Luhan could be counted on to lighten it up again after walking a couple blocks in silence. “So, did you come to my bar to see me?”

You scoffed, your acting as if that was ridiculous being of terrible quality. “No. Everywhere else was just full of people. I don’t like people.”

“But you like me?” He was giving you a crooked smile.

You shook your head, now walking backwards to face him. “I’m not allowed to like anybody. Especially….” You stopped yourself from exposing what you knew. Good. You weren’t that intoxicated to make that slip.

Luhan raised an eyebrow. “Especially….”

You pulled a dumb category out of the air, telling in a flirty manner, “Especially the unmanly kind.”

His jaw dropped, offended. “And you’re sticking me in that category?”

“Pretty boys aren’t usually manly,” you giggled, even patting his head for good measure.

“Not manly, huh?” Taking you up on your challenge, Luhan scooped you up in his arms, twirling you around while you cried out in joy.

When you were back on your feet, you were more unstable than ever but you couldn’t stop laughing. That’s when you realized that you were right outside your door now.

“This, uh,” you cleared your throat. “This is me.”

Disappointment was all over Luhan’s face now that the journey had ended. “Oh. Okay. Well, I’m glad you made it home safe. Sleep well.”

He turned to leave, but you stopped him by grabbing his sleeve. “Wait.”

Hope now filled his eyes as he stared back at you. This was the ultimate crossroads. You either let him go, staying where you were and reverting back to your previous guarded self or you took the plunge and explored what it was that you were feeling for him. Either way, you knew there was no turning back. You knew exactly what you were doing when the next two words left your mouth.

“Stay. Please.”

Wordlessly, Luhan nodded.

Feeling like you were moving in slow motion, you turned and unlocked the door. You stepped into your apartment with Luhan right behind you. With this seemingly harmless choice, you knew you were committing the ultimate betrayal. But regret was nowhere to be found.

[incarnateirony]

Why do you think so many people in fandoms of tv shows, movies, games and pretty much anything have such a strong resistance to a character being revealed to be LGBT? I've seen it so many times, and I know you've seen it a lot as well, and it's just so weird to me how offended people are by this. A recent example is in the fandom of a videogame I'm in, were many are just outraged by the notion some believe that a main character, a white, male soldier that exists since 1997 could, maybe, be LGBT.

The fight over this crap is kind of intersectional. Everything from homophobes to our own. This is heavily tied to (America, since this is intersectional with an american show, but also global) opinions shifting on things like oh, gay marriage. (x) Such as modernly 15%~ of citizens are homophobes and think The Gay Sexinating should be illegal. Which sounds shitty as all kinds of fuck until you scale that against 43% in 77′, and 77 was actually *before* the AIDs epidemic really became central or anything so you can imagine what those numbers realistically became then.

We’ve made progress, and there’s still progress to be made, but it was literally less than half a century ago – two generations ago – here, in many of our lifetimes, or at least in the lifetimes of people the younger reading audience here *knows* – that this landscape wasn’t even *recognizable*

So socially speaking this works in waves of conversation– be that the gays being cursed by god yadda yadda and thus deserve to die of AIDS and be treated like lepers – down to “Why do they even need included in anything” following shortly after, with a mindset of “perversion” still heavily steeped in the population that would plague children of the 80s and 90s heavily. You wanna deal with some internalization, there’s some internalization.

Keeping a thumb on the fact that the needle *has* shifted is a great deal of it, I think – obviously not “OK! WE’RE DONE NOW!” but being aware there’s not a 50%~ chance someone you walk by thinks you should be arrested or killed anymore, that more than 1 in 8 douchebags are going to be whole thundergeese about it, and that it is what it is, and it sucks, and we’re waiting to get further-again. Also there’s whole other issues WRT MLM vs WLW and what earns what kind of resistance but that’s a WHOLE other rant.

The thing is, when people grow into an environment of being *disadvantaged*, if they don’t as much take time to celebrate our *progress* as much as rant about everything that *isn’t going perfectly right*, we lose our scale. It maintains this feeling of being the completely 100% hated unseen minority that the whole world still hates, when we can’t look back and go, you know what, in 2019, 83% of people don’t think it should be illegal, 2% have no opinion. That’s just a very congealed residual screaming mass of assbags and subconsciously we all know it, but continuing to gear the conversation as if we’re fighting from the pits of the 60s or 70s is??? really weird???

But at the same time understandable?

So on the one hand you get The Gays arguing from being an angle of being incredibly more disadvantaged than they are. And then, you get people from this shifting demographic – be it the 15% remaining douchebags congealed into a screaming lot, or the 40% slide that have come to realize we’re just minding our own business and loving who we want between 77 and now – that, still lost *in* that dark history and frankly propaganda hold onto *resistances*. So if we’re talking about a character that, say, probably straight white guys have attached to since the 90s, if they attached to that character in the 90s, odds are, they were fairly developed and at least 15 years old if not more already. And odds are, they were subject to everything from the impact of the epidemic to just older nonsense clouding their vision, and whether we like it or not, these people *will* have likely resistance.

Because we may not like that chapter of history, and we give no excuse for homophobia, but in perspective when an entire country’s homosexual population was ravaged by something ignored by government and hospitals, and dismissively packaged as a curse by evangelical america in a country about 75% christian, just how *much* that *completely* fucks up people’s internal understanding. It’s the same dehumanization that was used against anyone else genocided, in other major historical moments we all know about. It doesn’t make the passivity right, but welcome to how literal propaganda can fuck up entire populations.

So to roll back to the Nonnie: These fights in general seem to strike me as a mix of intersectional… lack of understanding. Young Gays that don’t really get what the world was like 40~ years ago or even 20~ are absolutely baffled why anyone would get so reactive to an idea. Old Gays do want better representation, but some have had a hell of a time *from* internalizing those ideas.  The Straights of the time have a WHOLE other mess of shit to sort out in their heads before coming around to being open and understanding. Everybody’s talking across each other, instead of talking with each other, and some have unfortunately entirely convinced themselves they are still as hated as they were back then, which turns into more circular representation visibility fights, which turns into another circus, yeehaw. 

Which sometimes even turns into striking down their own representative work (be that SPN here or the goblins we all know on this hellsite that tear down anything that looks vaguely like representation because it isn’t XYZ enough). Because in the interest of arguing with *maybe 15 percent of the population that doesn’t think you have the right to exist* about *fictional content* being made to *represent YOU, not them*, we ironically do a lot of damage to our queer canon by just stomping on current incrementalization and expansion without minding the history and steamroll it. Which frankly makes us all look like disorganized lunatics trying to Make Everything Gay™ even if that’s not what it is remotely.

And because I know this will be misunderstood I’ll continue to frame this point from a few angles before it’s misrepresented: Wanting rep/seeing queer narratives wherever you go is fine and the nature of the fight, I’m just trying to explore the divide between r/NiceGuys that get mad at the gay vs the modern LGBT comm and frankly the general bloated, inflated relevance they have that the community at times lets, or even invites dialogue of, their heteronormative framings, often rooted back from times of REALLY DARK PROPAGANDA AND GENOCIDE and how it affected culture – to damage and bury their own content, generally in the logic “if they don’t see it, then it doesn’t count!” when, if-and-when queer coding or open in your face textual coming-out canon or even just low-visibility text is conscious, that is content for *you.*

And it’s not saying “stop and settle” to put this into perspective. It’s “don’t piss on the work everybody else did before you – or worse on what they’re doing right now – just to argue with the couple of assbags left in the universe.“ They’ll go away too eventually. It doesn’t happen overnight. And they’re not going to stop happening overnight. No matter how many gay video game soldiers you find at this type, no matter if Dean Winchester just quietly voices his repeat encounters with men in a way that landmarks it so loudly you NEED to break out alt-right dialogues those same 1 in 8 have that I have beaten to death – to choose to interject that kind of long-ago-addressed conversational edge is literally to choose to interject homophobic dialogue into conversations of how LGBT rep should work and honey if you need an indicator that you may be leaning in the wrong direction, there’s your sign.

But it can be hard to unplug and stop thinking the world is still as bad as it is back then, BECAUSE you run into those assbags that resist it loudly. But like many things, numbers show they’ve died off into a minority. We still have a way to go, but this is a weird ongoing self-inflated fight that seems heavily unaware on WHY people react like that (as per the original ask) much less how ridiculous it is to keep dragging dialogues born in the AIDS epidemic days into these discussions.

Simple point? If you aren’t able to really mobilize on content (yelling online generally ain’t it, chief), ignore them. Enjoy your content if it’s yours, because there’s a lot of effort in simply erasing normalizing queer content because if it’s not EXTREME enough to win against THOSE GUYS *POINTS AT* then NYEAAAAAAAAAH.

It was never gonna be enough to win on those guys, even if it was full queer cinema canon LGBT stories and not stories that just include LGBT people normally.

Look I don’t even know what soldier you’re talking about, and I don’t care. Enjoy your shit your way and remember how easy it is for a minority to be ruthlessly loud when they can connect themselves across the wholeassed internet. 

But until people really learn the history of why certain mindsets cropped up or how they invaded conversation or what rattled entire generations to their core, prople are gonna have a hard time fucking communicating with each other instead of just talking over each other. And sometimes even talking over their own within the community/engaging in deletion/the carousel runs in a circle.

But *why* that mindset exists? It’s not difficult. It’s because this nation got saturated in propaganda that warranted letting the homosexual community suffer and die in numbers that would make your head spin, where everyone knew someone with it, as coffeebrainblog has said, where we were treated like lepers, or “cursed by god”, or as lesser, inhuman things and climbing out of that hole has been a hell of a ride, but the community has to also de-internalize that propaganda and realize WE’RE PRETTY MUCH THERE. Like the road isn’t over, the war isn’t 100% won, but if the statistics alone don’t get you, if you *really* sat and read this reply, maybe where the din and eternal upset has buried our *progress*, you’ll realize that progress has dramatically pitched that into being the minority.

But it keeps everybody arguing from disadvantaged levels and even some choosing to self-handicap by creating their own definitions, rules, boundaries and almost states of the universe they’ll accept, because 1 in 8ish people hate them, but they’re still stuck in a world where 1 in 2 might want you dead, somewhere in your headspace. It’s like setting your own handicap bar which… is kind of the opposite? Of what we’re supposed to do? We’re supposed to knock down those cages? And point out we’re the same as everyone else? Running to prove things to people who still think we might carry God’s Plague And Be Judged that haven’t listened to decades of correction so far, just to dissect and dismantle your own contents or enjoyments – it’s a really, really weird backwards pedaling thing to aim for.

I *get* why people think it’s the right way, again, as per all of this, but it’s… it’s pedaling backwards and thinking it’s moving forward. 

So while I don’t know what soldier you’re talking about, it was a chance to address A) why there’s resistance in some generations B) what that did to us, as a community C) where sometimes we lose track of ourselves in a carnival of competition.

EDIT:

This note by @amitywho rings home:

Excellent analysis. I’m extremely ancient - I was a grown-ass adult in a flyover state back in 1980 when the first whispers about “the gay cancer” in New York and San Francisco began to make their way to us. I had to drive 150 miles to find a bookstore that carried any kind of gay-positive literature. We parked across the street to watch and see who might be loitering in the neighborhood - if they had baseball bats, no one would be coming to help.

I’ll also add there seems to be OUSA influence, but I centered on the american demographic of an american show; but it still impacts online worldwide net conversation. That OUSA influence varies between highly oppressed countries having heartier ala-80s POVs on LGBT, to on the exact opposite OUSA fans not really having their heads wrapped around the American side of the history beyond what it means in a few articles if they came from more progressive countries that didn’t, like, genocide their gays. So even older LGBT OUSA people look at it from the disembodied angle of a few headlines they remember, not being in the blast zone and resulting fallout.

Also to drift to another topic of LGBT exploitation: If you want to know why CW has “dare to defy” as a slogan just behind the idea that they have PoC or gays on their channel, I really need someone to sit and think about that. Welcome to a bunch of older people that remember these days that see it as *DEFIANT* to do at our current intersection. Nevermind them now exploiting that to try to find a new center for their network after CBS fucked them WRT Netflix, but hey. Yeah. Put that in scale. Why does it need virtue signal marketing, and moreover, what are they “defying”? This. This kind of mindset. Which is heavily sourced in an age demographic likely to be the core of CW Exec boards and marketing. 

If you want an idea how deep rooted in our psyche stunted dialogues are, the fact that few people even blink at that says a fuck of a lot to me. No, we dared to defy decades ago, you’re just trying to profit on what you still run through marketing and demographics and ho-hum but think you can pull money from. There’s a difference. But it does betray the minds behind it. It should be more like “DARE TO LOSE 15% OF OUR PROFIT MARGIN AND HOPE WE GET THAT 20-30% OF GAYS INSTEAD” – it’s profiting off of the work the LGBT community did and acting like they’re brave for doing it at a point that they actually risk more losses to NOT start. It’s signaling themselves as heroes in a battle they had nothing to do with. And it’s pretty standard fare.

(And, ON that aside, it spins me out how often I’ve seen in misc fandoms fans acting like queer content that is canonically queer doesn’t count if it’s not overtly marketed and shopped explicitly as LGBT content, rather than content that happens to have LGBT elements – why are you BEGGING to be exploited before you consider yourselves valid, I’m confused. We’ve already had our big grand coming out stories and tales of struggle and there’s a whole queer canon history I’ve posted about this. The whole point of our current junction is getting content everywhere that reflects how normal-and-everywhere we are, why are y’all like this)

[miraculouscontent]

I can't be the only one who was bothered by the ending of the latest episode. Not the memory wipe thing, that part was obvious. I mean how smug Cat Noir was when he found out he kissed Ladybug. I swear, every time he says he's entitled to ladybug, I just want to punch him in his smug face. There's no way MC Cat Noir would act like this, right?

*deep breath*

I’m sooooo tired of Chat acting like that. I was already lukewarm at the episode (not because it was “bad” or anything; as I stated early, I have a bias against fanservice and memory loss plots), but that ending made me livid.

Chat is so unbearably smug about the whole thing. They just got their memories back and Chat wastes no time in flirting with Ladybug and insisting that they “make a good couple.” Ladybug is clearly annoyed and tells him to stop, but Chat doesn’t even care.

And you know, this honestly isn’t even out-of-character, nor does it take any “mental gymnastics” to understand the mindset here. Chat has been consistently ignorant of Ladybug’s feelings.

“Prime Queen” is easily the best example (though I could’ve thrown “Syren” and “Frozer” in here too). Ladybug keeps insisting that they’re not a couple, but Chat eggs on the idea that they might be. He continuously stays oblivious to the fact that Ladybug is uncomfortable with the personal questions that Nadja is asking, to the point where Ladybug has to drag him out and Chat still doesn’t get what she’s doing. Even after Ladybug makes it clear why she left, Chat brushes her concerns off and acts like they’re TV stars instead of superheroes. He keeps seeing his superhero status as a luxury and not a job.

And, I don’t know, maybe that’s what he sees Ladybug as too: a luxury. He certainly seems to care when Ladybug is about to be eaten alive (”Animan”) or made to not exist (”Timebreaker”), but when she’s implied to have vague problems of her own (”Glaciator”) or has specific emotional problems, Chat disregards it.

In this episode, once he knows that Alya has a picture of them kissing, Chat just stares down Ladybug with a grin, leans forward, touches her face (which is lowkey rude because Ladybug pulled away in discomfort after she realized they were holding hands post-Miraculous Ladybug), and turns her head to a giggling Alya holding up the picture.

Because of course, Alya doesn’t care either. Ladybug said outright that she loved another boy, but Alya either didn’t hear or didn’t care (which she should because that’s a major scoop), instead posting the kiss to the Ladyblog without context.

(By the way, if I may derail for a bit, that is possibly the most stupid thing Alya has ever done. Ladybug isn’t just some superheroine who Alya doesn’t know on some level. Ladybug trusted Alya with the fox miraculous three times, yet Alya risks throwing that all out the window just to get some views on her blog. Ladybug said that she loved someone else and I simply do not believe that neither Alya nor Nino heard that. Even if they didn’t, no one knows if Ladybug has a boyfriend and that picture would put a giant thorn into everything if she did.)

And Chat just... stares in delight, completely unaware of Ladybug’s feelings and even using the opportunity to brag about how they’re completely meant to be (while Ladybug glares at him, I might add).

Ladybug basically said, “I’m not in love with you,” and Chat responded, “Yes you are.”

That’s not right. That’s not respect. That’s ignoring Ladybug’s feelings for what he wants to see.

Speaking of which, I said before that Chat doesn’t care when he’s loitering around battles because Miraculous Ladybug fixes it, but this scene really proves it.

When Ladybug points out that it’s Chat who got them in trouble in the first place, Chat laughs. He thinks it’s funny. He doesn’t take her seriously because any “trouble” that happens is easily remedied by Ladybug’s powers.

And in that respect, yeah, Chat sacrificing himself can really only benefit him. He’s not needed for Miraculous Ladybug, he looks like a perfect self-sacrificing sweetheart to Ladybug, and all is fixed by the end of it anyway. There are no consequences for him throwing himself into danger when is it blatantly not necessary or there’s a much better and much more obvious solution (”Zombiezou” and “Chameleon”).

So, it makes sense, totally, but that does not mean it puts him in a good light.

Not that it would surprise anyone, but I might as well admit it right now: when I saw that kiss, I felt nothing. It was a completely hollow feeling.

These amnesiac characters spent maybe a half hour together before deciding that they’re in love enough to kiss, and… honestly, I get that. They’re emotional teenagers, they’re isolated, and they’re forced to work together to escape. They saw things that made them believe that they were a couple and it made them much more open and convinced of the idea. Aside from their kwami, they only have each other, and the desperation and want to survive keeps them as a duo.

But they don’t know anyone else. They don’t know their parents. They don’t know their own lives. Ladybug can’t remember the stuff Chat has done to her that made her uncomfortable and annoyed.

They only know each other in the vaguest possible sense because any more than that might not lead to a kiss in the end.

Adding onto the kiss specifically, if all the two know is what they’ve seen during the episode, those aren’t grounds for Chat to kiss Ladybug; it’s more the other way around.

They both know that Marinette has pictures of Adrien in her phone, but they were confirmed to not be a couple (or at least not had their identities revealed yet) by Fu. Adrien saw the video where Ladybug yelled loudly about her and Chat not being a couple, yet once Fu explained that they haven’t revealed each other’s identities, he must’ve brushed off any thought of why Ladybug was so adamant about them not being a couple before getting her memory wiped.

It didn’t matter if he could’ve hurt Ladybug as Chat at some point. It didn’t matter what their feelings for each other were pre-Oblivio. All that mattered is that they were “in love” now and Chat wanted his kiss.

He asked permission, certainly, which is much better than Chat’s standard behavior, but I would much rather them reassuring each other that they’d find a way to fall in love again instead of kissing.

The kiss isn’t anything except for a tool to embarrass Marinette. That kiss will only lessen the effect of a potential true non-amnesia kiss at the end of the series. I talked about it with “Gigantitan,” but showing the audience something they wanted to see yet having it be a lie is just a way to lessen the impact when the real moment happens.

To some degree, I get why this episode exists. It’s almost right in the middle of Season 3, which is around the halfway point if the show is stopping at Season 5.

It’s basically the writers going, “Here’s how things would go without the love square,” and also, “We know there’s still a lot of time until an identity reveal, so we’ll release this to tide people over.

But if they need an episode full of fanservice to tide people over, that’s a blatant sign that they know they’re stalling without substance.

A memory loss episode is the easiest way to appease the fanbase, and I can understand why the fanbase would be appeased. The majority of salt typically agrees that almost all of Season 3 is either garbage or lackluster.

So, naturally, when an episode that has shipping value comes out, right when expectations are at their lowest, of course there would be a reaction.

But I didn’t feel anything. I knew where they were going with the constant teases. The second Chat asked for Ladybug’s permission, I knew that something was going to happen. I knew Chat was going to go nuts and ignore Ladybug’s feelings yet again.

That’s just what Chat does. That’s what he’s done consistently, and I can’t support the supposed dynamic between them when it’s not as balanced as Chat thinks it is. I can’t support the canon love square in any capacity when Chat behaves that way and never learns.

And, to refer back to the anon, no, MC Chat Noir would never act like that. He would’ve shaped up by “Prime Queen” and been upset at Alya for taking a photo of something so personal and without context. Even if he had been thrilled that he and Ladybug had kissed, that moment should be private and between only them; it wasn’t for anyone else to see.

But… ugh, it’s not like I planned to write any sort of fanfic, but I honestly am not sure if I could even have the love square be canon to MC stuff, even if it’s different. I’ll give it a few more episodes or wait until the end of the season, but as someone who’s had personal experiences with being confessed to (and who’s had people assume emotions and disregard anything said otherwise), Chat’s behavior makes me so uncomfortable…

[iraklismytridis]

Arcturian Group 31 5 2020 MAY 31,2020

Welcome to our message, dear readers.

Many at this time are in need of support and comfort as they experience situations seemingly generated by world conditions but which in fact are expressions of their own consciousness--experiences chosen as necessary for growth or simply the presence of three dimensional energy. Trust that all experiences are facets of a person's spiritual awakening process.  In the bigger picture, there are no accidents.

Most suffering  arises from fear, the belief that everything in ones life must follow certain concepts of how things must be, and if they aren't "bad" things will happen.  Concepts of "rightness" effect relationships, employment, health, and all facets of daily living.  Your media and leaders continue to promote these things not always to cause fear, but because they themselves fear and believe these concepts.  Most of them are completely unaware of the evolutionary process that is  taking place in the world.

Fear locks individuals to a mindset in which they are unable to see, comprehend, or even imagine expanded ideas.  Fear arises from the belief that one is separate from one's good whether that good is needed or wanted.  Those who live from a consciousness of fear are unable to see any way out of personal problems and often turn to crime or violence as a solution.  Fear also may feed a person's thinking and decision making with so many possible negative outcomes that they become frozen, unable to make any move.

It is a normal to experience fear occasionally.  You have all lived many lives where your survival depended upon fear.  These things remain in cellular memory until cleared.  When you experience fear do not deny, resist, or try and make it go away with various techniques, spiritual or otherwise.  Rather acknowledge it as an  important tool but one that you no longer need  in the Light of your new awareness.

You are the Higher Power that so many speak of and pray to and it is time to fully accept this. There is nor has there ever been a  Power somewhere manipulating the strings of human puppets. The days of praying to some faraway male God in the sky,  attending  church or performing  actions and ceremonies in order to please or get God's attention, must end once a person knows the true nature of God.

We are not saying you must never attend some ceremony or go to church if you enjoy these things.  We are saying only to do them with full awareness that they will not nor can they bring you any closer to God than you already are and  in fact your evolved state of consciousness  will add more Light to them.

Most are not yet  spiritually prepared to understand this, but you who are drawn to these messages are. You have moved beyond the religious and metaphysical steps that brought you to where you are spiritually at this time. You have done the work and are prepared to understand that you and all who attain a consciousness of truth are the ones creating the new world, one that resonates on a higher dimensional level.

This is what  ascension is all about, the evolution of world consciousness through the evolution of personal consciousness and never the result of finding the "perfect" politician, guru, friend, teacher, extraterrestrial, prayer, location, or ceremony.

Nothing is going to be exactly as it was before because consciousness is evolving.  You are being told by three dimensional thinkers and those who dislike change that everything must return to the way it was before but this cannot happen because consciousness which forms itself as the outer,  is rapidly integrating higher dimensional frequencies.  People are waking up and beginning to see that indeed the Emperor has no clothes.

Some jobs are going to change or simply disappear.  Try not to see this as a negative thing but rather as  necessary in order for new and better ways to manifest.  Be open to the new in all aspects of life but do not expect changes to come in a moment, for new ideas can only manifest as the consciousness of humanity opens to them. There will be resistance, but  higher and better ways of functioning can and will take place in business, health, politics, religion, education etc. as allowed.

The human mind  is an avenue of awareness  interpreting everything  according to the conditioning  present in individual or collective consciousness. This is why several people may witness the same thing but each will interpret it differently.  Divine Mind contains no conditioning.  IT is infinitely aware only of the Self sustained, Self maintained completeness of ITSELF because nothing else exists.

At some point of every person's evolutionary journey there comes a time at which they must really accept the truth of ONE and that that ONE is the reality of their own being.  They must cease considering truth to be "airy fairy", impractical, and un-attainable, otherwise they can and will not move beyond their present level of awareness by virtue of the fact that they are keeping themselves locked in outgrown state of consciousness.

It is time to fully, completely, and honestly examine your life, your decisions, your choices, and your belief system not with judgement and criticism but rather with the love and understanding that comes from knowing that every person is only capable of living out from their highest attained level of consciousness.

Remember this as actions you may have taken in the past fill you with shame, guilt, or remorse when seen with new insight.  Know that everyone, self included,  is doing the best they can with where they are at. This is how you learn to love yourself which is imperative if you are to accept the reality of  ONEness.  Even the murderer thinks he is somehow making things better.

Examine what you learned, still need to learn, and how you grew from the most painful experiences of your life.  Ask yourself; "What was I believing at that time that made me feel, respond, or act this way?  Do I still believe the same?  In the light of what I now know, are these beliefs true?"  These questions are important tools that only you can use and which can help you become more aware of what you still hold in consciousness.

Nothing you ever do, say, or think can make you more loveable and worthy of good than you already are.  You are expressions of the one Divine Consciousness and nothing can or will ever change that.  If or when emotions of judgement, criticism, and self loathing surface as old energy surfaces, know that it is a sign you are graduating and moving beyond the old concepts and beliefs that created them in the first place and which you have carried in cellular memory for centuries.

Bless all emotions as they arise for they are your teachers and  bless the fact that you understand what is taking place for there remain many going through clearings who do not.  Be grateful as you realize that you are spiritually ready to rid yourself of all that no longer serves your highest good regardless of how physically, emotionally, mentally or spiritually uncomfortable the process may be.

There is so much taking place that you are not aware of and are not being told about by the media.  Stop attempting to find answers to everything taking place for the human mind simply cannot give you the answers you seek.  Begin to live out from your true nature, relying upon the fact that completeness lies within and will manifest outwardly as what is needed if allowed.

Take frequent breaks to be silent and rest in the Divinity of your own Being as you go about your day regardless of where you are.  This can be just a moment that only you know about.  Allow your Divine Self to live your life in all the seemingly ordinary activities for all activity is spiritual. There is no such thing as the "profane" versus the "spiritual" as many religions teach.  There is only One Infinite Divine Consciousness expressing ITSELF as infinite form and variety.

We are not saying to throw up your hands while declaring "God is all!" when situations arise that need addressing on a three dimensional level for that would simply be pretending to a state of consciousness not yet attained. We are saying that in these intense times of confusion and fear for so many,  do not lose sight of the fact that the one Omnipresent, Omnipotent, Omniscient Divine Consciousness is and always has been the only power and reality.

Many believe that earth and everything on it is illusion.  Earth, its people, and all forms of life are not and never have been illusion.   It is the false  interpretations of minds conditioned by beliefs of duality and separation that constitute illusion.

Begin to look deeper and see everything through eyes of truth rather than judging by appearances.  Begin to trust that the I of you knows what you need, when you need it,  and how to get it to you.  Some of what you  need may not be pleasant according to three dimensional standards but may be  necessary for spiritual growth.  This is where  trust comes in.

Once you seriously begin a spiritual journey (this choice is often made on a subconscious level)  the journey intensifies and the  "train leaves the station" often going in directions you did not expect or even want.  

You are in physical form at this time because you chose to be here.  You were well aware of the difficulties you would encounter when living in the lower frequencies of the third dimension but you chose to come anyway in order to complete your own journey as well as to add light and assistance to others in a world struggling through the powerful energies of dimensional ascension.

Your moment has arrived and if things are not what you expected personally or globally, allow these concepts to drop away and simply allow, trust, and acknowledge  I AM.

We are the Arcturian Group