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dilly-dahlia · 6 months ago

Text

i. The Silver Starlet

pairing: Gene x popular!Reader

content: pdh, drill team!reader, opposites attract, suggestive but not explicit, allusions to blackmail, reader is described as having straightened hair, images used are NOT an indication of the reader’s appearance

summary: Gene was always looking for the next person to mess with. The next person to join his gang or blackmail into doing his bidding. But when he set his sights on what he assumed to be the ditzy drill team captain, he didn't expect to fall for her.

total word count: 6.2k

masterlist

The Problem With Popularity masterlist

"Five, six, seven, eight!"

"I was almost on the drill team," Sasha mused, leaning against the bleachers as she watched the Silver Starlets, Phoenix Drop High's drill team, practice. "I was a cheerleader when I was, like, five and my mom kept me in it till I was a freshman. She really wanted me to be a Silver Starlet."

Zenix glanced up from his phone, raising his brows at Sasha. "You were a cheerleader?"

"Yup."

She had never liked it. She didn't like that football season happened during the coldest months of the year and being outside, moving and hopping and yelling at the top of her lungs, made her want to die. It would have been the same if she'd decided to join the Silver Starlets. Practice in the crisp cold mornings and hot afternoons before and after the first day of school. For the whole year.

It sounded like hell.

"Come on girls! We've got a pep rally and game this Friday!"

"I find that hard to believe," Gene said. He leaned against the bleachers beside Sasha, watching the thirty-something girls as they tossed each other into the air and jumped around and practiced high kicks and did very. . . not Sasha things. "You did this?"

"Not this exactly, obviously. I was on a junior cheer team for peewee football, or something." Sasha let out a heavy breath, pushing herself away from the bleachers, glancing at the time on her phone. "It wasn't for me, so I quit. Hey, the bell's about to ring."

Gene waved Sasha off absentmindedly, keeping his gaze on the drill team. Zenix hopped up from the box of football supplies he sat on, pocketing his phone and stretching. "God, I can't wait to go home."

"If you're that unenthusiastic about being here then why did you come?" Sasha asked as she shouldered her backpack. It was a lot heavier than it should've been for the first day of school, but that was the result of not cleaning it out over the summer.

"Because my ISS carried over to this year." Zenix rolled his eyes. "I don't get why the board's so pissed about me bringing a piñata for students to hit. It was just a fun thing for the last day."

"Maybe because you ended up giving another student a concussion with the bat, Zenix."

"Well, maybe if Balto hadn't been pissing me off he wouldn't have been whacked."

"Gene, are you coming?" Sasha called. She and Zenix had walked a couple feet away before realizing Gene wasn't following.

"Huh?" Gene peeled his gaze from where the Silver Starlets were huddled, probably discussing their practice, to look back at Sasha and Zenix. He waved them off. "Nah, I'll meet you inside in a minute."

"'Kay. Usual spot?"

"Yeah," Gene shouted after them. The pair went around the corner of the bleachers, disappearing from his line of sight. Gene followed them with his gaze, lingering where they had turned the corner as he thought.

He was bored. This school year would be shit for him if he had to actually attend his classes (something his mom had gotten onto him about after receiving a threat of court the previous year). If he was forced to go to those classes, he might as well have fun.

And girls from the drill team were the easiest to mess with. Most had light colored hair and very few had common sense. Gene hated to say it, but he was pretty sure ninety percent of them fit some sort of dumb blonde or ditzy girl stereotype.

Gene glanced back out at the field. Most of the girls had grabbed their bags and were beginning to head inside, but there were a few that lingered. One in particular stood on the opposite side of where he stood, hunched over her bag as she drank from her white water bottle.

She lifted her gaze and met his. Her lips curled around the straw of her water bottle and she lowered it from her lips to properly smile and wave at him. Her straightened hair was starting to frizz, but a headband prevented it from falling in her eyes. Her makeup was simply done and done in a way that highlighted her eyes. It was obvious she was already physically exhausted, but she still seemed full with life.

Gene knew who she was, and there was no doubt she also knew who he was. Gene returned her smile, though his seemed more mischievous, and waved to her as well. When she turned her head at the sound of someone trying to get her attention, Gene slipped out from under the bleachers and followed Sasha and Zenix's path.

Y/n L/n. She was a very well liked junior. Very sociable, Captain of the Silver Starlets, the kindest girl anyone would ever meet (as Gene had overheard from multiple students) and her dream was to be accepted into Juilliard's dance program and, hopefully, become a Rockette. She had a hand in practically every extracurricular the school offered to get there, but the drill team was her main focus.

Another small, minuscule detail that had held Gene's attention since he became aware of it was her dating history. She was Laurance Zvahl's ex-girlfriend, but before they started dating it had been rumored that Garroth Ro'Meave liked her. What was interesting to Gene was how close she remained to both boys after her breakup with Laurance. So close, in fact, that there was the odd student here and there that speculated she was still dating Laurance.

Gene knew they weren't. He had eyes and ears everywhere and knew one thing or another about practically every student (and a few teachers) in the student body. If someone wanted dirt on someone else, they would come to him and he would offer it so long as he was given something in return. It was how he knew so much—he exchanged knowledge for knowledge.

It'd be fun, he found himself thinking as he walked across the edge of the football field. If he messed with Y/n, he'd undoubtedly mess with her friends. Laurance, Garroth, Katelyn. There was a long list of popular kids he'd be able to humble when he messed with Y/n.

Not to mention it'd take her preppy, happy go lucky self off the idealistic pedestal she'd been put on. Gene didn't have anything scandalous on her yet, but he'd find something. He always did.

Gene smiled to himself as he pulled the doors open and stepped into the school. He had a new target.

—

"Molly, wrap this around the booth, will you?"

You held out the folded banner to Molly. The blonde nodded, taking the sparkly banner in her hands and recruiting the help of Stephanie, one of the newer Silver Starlets, to help.

You thanked her and blew out a breath, flattening the sparkly, powder blue sheet of plastic on the white table. The iridescent sheet crinkled beneath your fingers as you shifted it before Molly and Stephanie secured the banner around it. You still had to set up the sign that would go over the booth, and . . . God, you hated first day orientation.

You grabbed a small towel from your duffel beneath the table and dabbed at the perspiration gathering on your upper lip and forehead. It was unnaturally hot in the gym, and the thick material the Silver Starlet outfit was made of was not a good match for it. Not to mention the scratchy cowboy hat on your head and heavy makeup. You loved it, but not when you were in a room that would be crowded with freshmen.

Someone placed a pack of six water bottles on the table, and when you looked up you smiled at Laurance.

"Thanks," you said, reaching to break one of the plastic bottles away from the others. You had forgotten your own in the locker room, which was all the way across the gym and behind a booth that had already been set up. You deeply regretted that, so having Laurance bring you cold water was nice. Teony, president of student council, quickly passed by your table to drop off the countless fliers and registration forms for the Silver Starlets. "How's it going? Did you like Brazil?"

Laurance, having been adopted and living in Phoenix Drop practically his whole life, had suddenly harbored a burning desire to know where he was from the previous year. He'd asked Hayden to take an ancestry test, and when he found out his birth parents were in Brazil he begged to take a trip.

Laurance nodded, leaning against the table. "Yeah, it was really nice there. I was able to meet Luiz and Eloísa."

His birth parents. You met his gaze and smiled at him after organizing the fliers and sign up sheets on your table, straightening your posture. "Really? How were they?"

"They were . . . Nice." Laurance sounded almost hesitant. He was careful with his next words, choosing them thoughtfully. "It felt weird, though. I didn't know them and they didn't know me and it was just . . . Weird."

You nodded. You weren't sure what the full story of Laurance being put into the system was, but you could understand what he was saying to a degree. You related it to meeting a family member you'd never met in your head. Though his situation was probably vastly different.

"Are you gonna talk to them anymore at all?" you asked. He nodded.

"Yeah. I downloaded WhatsApp and got their numbers. So did Hayden, so we'll probably talk more."

"That's good. At least you can build a relationship from there." Laurance hummed. You gave him a once over, noticing he was still in his typical school uniform. "Shouldn't you be wearing your game gear, soccer captain?"

Laurance's lips curled up, clearly glad for the change in topic and mention of his new title. He saluted to you before pushing himself off your table. "You are correct. I was waiting until it got closer to the start of orientation before I did, but I guess it's close now." Laurance glanced up at the large game board on the wall, taking note of the time. "Yeah. Well, I will see you at lunch, Dancing Queen. You have B, right?"

You rolled your eyes. Dancing Queen was the stupid nickname Laurance had given you the first time saw you running drills when you had started dating. He'd used it to talk about you one too many times, and now that's how most Silver Starlet events were advertised.

"Yes, Laurance. I have B Lunch."

"Cool. So does Garroth. We'll see you then." He waved to you before pivoting on his heel and running to the boys' locker room.

You rolled your eyes again and shook your head before looking back down at the table. You rapped your fingers against the crinkly table covering, wondering what was missing.

The table was set. Molly and Stephanie had set up the banner meant to go above the booth while you were talking to Laurance. You were dressed. Your makeup was done and your hat was on. You'd added body shimmer to your collarbone and legs in the locker room. Fliers and sign up sheets were organized. Someone (probably Donna) had left her pompoms on the front corner of the table.

A lightbulb went off in your head. Coach Geter had given you a bottle of glitter confetti her daughter had made. You reached down into your duffel and grabbed it, scattering the silver and blue and lavender stars across the table.

You still felt like you were missing something, but you couldn't think of anything else. You shrugged it off after a moment, deciding that if it was something detrimental then you would recall it sooner or later.

Teony had swung by again. Well, she really slid beside you to hand you two foldable chairs before wishing you luck and walking off to the student council booth. That's how you knew it was starting soon—Teony was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet.

You took a deep breath, waiting for the freshmen to start trickling into the gym.

—

Gene let out a puff of smoke, resting his wrist against his knee. Sasha laid on her stomach in front of him, scrolling on her phone. Zenix wasn't with them. As soon as Mr. Sanders, one of the school's AP's, spotted him, he'd dragged Zenix to the ISS room. Wherever that was.

The point: only Gene and Sasha were sitting in the shaded area outside the gym.

"You know Y/n?" Gene's question broke the comfortable silence between the two of them. Sasha let her phone fall into the grass and stared at him for a moment before responding.

"Obviously. She's in my homeroom." Sasha blinked at Gene. It reminded him of a cat. "Why?"

"Curious."

Sasha raised a brow, adjusting so she could prop the weight of her head against her hand. "Why?" she repeated. Gene huffed.

"I just thought she'd be fun to mess with."

Sasha was almost even more appalled. Her eyebrows rose so high they disappeared behind her bluntly cut bangs. "Y/n? As in Y/n L/n? Y/n L/n as in the single nicest, sweetest, brightest girl in school."

"Precisely."

Sasha scoffed, lifting her phone back up and turning her attention to it. "That's ambitious even for you, Gene. You have nothing on her."

"Yet," he corrected, a sly smile playing at his lips. "I'll find something."

"Good luck because there's nothing to find. She really is as nice and perfect as she appears at school."

"And you know that how?"

Sasha exhaled, thinking as she typed away on her phone. "We had English together last year and got paired up a lot. We worked in the maker space and she really was one of the best people I've met."

"So you're friends with her?"

Sasha hummed, crinkling her nose. "Acquaintances, really.”

"So you can start a friendship with her. Bring her around every now and then and it'll all fall into place."

Sasha laughed again, glancing at Gene. "You're funny."

"It'll be easy, Sash." Gene rolled his eyes, inhaling another puff of smoke before blowing it out. "She's one of the drill girls. She's probably all . . . Ditzy and what not. She'll be easy to manipulate."

"Sure." Sasha pushed herself to her knees, lifting her arms to stretch and pop her back. "We have B Lunch, right?"

"Yeah," Gene mused. He watched Sasha lift herself to her feet and stretch again. She grabbed her bag and hoisted it onto her shoulders.

"I'm gonna go get food. I'll meet you at the lounge, 'kay?"

Gene hummed in acknowledgement, grabbing his phone from where it sat beside him and scrolling through Instagram. He didn't watch Sasha go back inside the gym, instead choosing to rest the cigarette between his lips as he searched your name in the search bar.

He found your account immediately. Followed by dantes_infernoes, laurmanz and 157 others, it said beneath your URL. He didn't know who the 157 others might have been, but he could take a guess at a couple.

He clicked on your profile. He didn't follow, you—not yet, anyway—he just clicked through your highlights and scrolled through your posts. You didn't post much about yourself. Most of it was about an upcoming Silver Starlets performance or someone else. The only post mostly centered around you he saw on your profile was a homecoming post from last year. Most others were of scenery or taken with friends.

Laurance was on your arm in most of the homecoming pictures. When Gene looked at the comments, he only found three (from Laurance, Katelyn, and your mom) and saw the words comments on this post have been limited.

Interesting. None of your other posts had that.

Gene looked at the clock. First Day orientation was ending soon, and after lunch he'd only have two and a half hours of the school day left. He doubted he'd have any classes with you, seeing as you were a junior and he was a senior, so if he wanted to do anything today he'd have to do it now.

He pushed himself off the floor and snuffed his cigarette out on the brick wall before dropping it in the grass. He pocketed his phone and made his way to the gym doors.

You'd be in there, right?

—

You watched as your younger sister tried, and failed, to take the table covering off the foldable table without getting the confetti on it everywhere.

Julie failed miserably, and you snickered as she trudged across the gym and returned with a broom and dustpan. She picked the confetti up as you finished folding the plastic covering.

"You can go to lunch after," you said, nodding to the gym doors. "I'll take your trash and stuff."

Julie sighed, her shoulders falling. "Can't I eat with you and your friends?"

You exhaled, tilting your head at her. "Julie."

"I'm serious, Y/n! I haven't talked to anyone and I'm scared because what if they know I'm here on scholarship?"

You deadpanned. "With how loud you're being they definitely will." You had meant for it to be a lighthearted jest, but the panic that speared across Julie's expression made you rethink. "It's not a big deal that you got a scholarship, Jules. Lots of people did."

"None of your friends did . . ."

That's not the point, Julie." You crossed your arms, leaning back against the table. "Find some of the robotics kids and talk to them. I'm sure they'd love to be your friend."

"But what if they're stinky?"

You glared at her. "Then you have no right to complain about not having friends. Now go to lunch. You only have a couple minutes left now."

You rolled your eyes when she begrudgingly turned and sulked her way out of the gym. You loved her with all your heart, but Jesus.

The two of you didn't have the same lunch anyway, so it's not like she could have sat with you.

You sighed, looking back at the drill team booth. The plastic covering was now folded and ready to use for another event, but the banner hanging above the table was still up. And unfortunately, Molly and Stephanie had already left for lunch, leaving you to take it down by yourself.

Lucky you.

It was only after you found yourself standing on a chair, terrified of falling, and awkwardly holding the weight of the banner that you realized this was a two person job. Most everyone else had already cleaned up their booths and the ones that hadn't were in the locker rooms changing back into their school uniforms, so you were basically stuck unless you could figure out how to do this yourself.

You cursed under your breath, taking your hat off with a hand you managed to free and tossing it down. It landed on the floor, but you didn't care. You'd pick it up and dust it off in a moment.

"Need any help?"

You hummed glancing down to where the voice came from. Gene stood there. He was fairly tall, taller than you, so you found it amusing that you were looking down at him.

Now, you knew Gene. You were dating Laurance during his whole Shadow Knight phase and were practically an eyewitness to some of the bad, not to mention illegal, things he did. All reason pointed to you refusing his help, but . . . Well, how long were you really willing to hold up this banner by yourself?

"Yes, please," you said, glancing up at the other side. It looked like it would topple over and rip the fabric in half any moment. "Can you grab that side and unlatch it?"

Gene nodded, taking one long stride to the other side of the table. He reached up, hands wrapping around the pole, and lifted it from its confines. You did the same on your side, and Gene stepped closer to you and held out his hand to steady you as you stepped down from the chair.

You thanked him, letting go of his hand and handing him the pole in your other. "Hold this for a second?"

Gene complied, holding both metal rods together. You reached up and properly folded the banner, trying to stand even higher on your tiptoes to wrap it around itself.

"Watch your head," you warned, after which Gene slightly ducked to avoid being hit by either the banner or you. Once you had the fabric wrapped around the rods like a roll, you smiled at Gene. "Thank you so much, I can take it from here."

Gene returned your smile, though the way his lips curled made you think his intent was malicious. "No, I insist on helping. What else can I do for you?"

"Um . . ." Your eyes slightly widened, like an owl's, and you glanced around. There was one or two small things, but you could do that on your own. But you didn't want to seem rude by refusing his help . . . "Help me with the table?" you suggested.

He nodded, and you set the banner and rods down to help him turn the white table on its side and fold the legs in. You pointed him to where it should go, and once he lifted it you took hold of the banner and rods again.

You'd come back for the plastic sheet and your hat. But if Gene saw you were gone from the place, he'd probably go on with his day and you wouldn't have to talk to him again.

Clearly, your logic was flawed. It wasn't long before you felt the weight of the back half of the banner being lifted, and when you turned you saw Gene following behind you. He had your hat and the iridescent sheet in his other hand, and he flashed you another smile. You returned it with another tentative one of your own before turning your head and accepting your fate.

You knocked on the door to Coach Geter's office. It was locked, of course, and she was eating lunch so you were surprised by how fast she opened it. She didn't normally like being taken from any off time she had.

You beamed at her. Geter took note of the banner in your hands and pointed to an empty corner in the office before turning back to her computer.

"See you later, Y/n," she called after you once you and Gene walked out. You smiled and waved at her before fully closing the door.

Gene held your silver and blue cowboy hat out to you. You met his gaze as you tentatively took it, holding it against your stomach.

"Thank you," you said, smiling sweetly at him. "And thank you for helping me take down the booth. I was scared the banner was going to rip and then you just . . . appeared."

Gene nodded, leaning against the wall behind him. "It's not a problem. I'm always one to help someone in need, especially a pretty girl like you."

You hummed, though it was more of a courtesy than an actual response. You got told you were pretty all the time—it was all people ever noticed—but you doubted the sincerity when Gene said it. Laurance had told you how Gene worked. He would always butter up his victim by complimenting them and pretending to be clueless about what he knew.

"Well, thank you anyway. I appreciate it."

You pivoted on your heel to walk away, but Gene's voice stopped you. "I didn't get your name."

You chuckled, turning your head back to him. "Don't pretend you don't know who I am, Gene. I certainly know who you are."

His eyebrows raised. He'd hoped you'd play along. "What if I really didn't know your name?"

You rolled your eyes. "Please. You used to be friends with Laurance. I'm fairly positive he talked about me, not to mention Coach Geter literally just said it. Besides, even if Laurance didn't or you didn't hear, it'd be crazy if someone like you, who knows everything about everyone, didn't know my name."

He smirked, but this one had no malicious intent. He seemed amused. "Touché. Well, I will see you later, Y/n."

You hummed again, hoping that you wouldn't see him again for the rest of the school year. You didn't say anything else as you walked away. You only turned back when you reached the locker room doors, and you saw that Gene had already left. You watched for a moment as Laurance crossed the gym, jogging to reach the cafeteria before it got too full for B lunch.

You shrugged to yourself, letting the door slam loudly behind you as you entered the locker room.

—

"It was so weird," you said to Katelyn, tucking your undershirt into your skirt. "He didn't seem nearly as bad as people make him out to be."

"That's because he was trying to get you," Katelyn said. She sat on one of the benches in the center of the room, scrolling on her phone as she waited for you to finish putting on your uniform. "That's how Laurance got indoctrinated to join the Shadow Knights last year."

You exhaled, looking into the mirror on the inside of your locker to wipe off any remaining red lipstick. "I know that, but . . . I don't know. It was just a weird encounter." You grabbed your backpack and shouldered it, closing your locker and clicking the lock shut. "Oh, and do not tell Laurance. I don't need him up my ass about this."

"Whatever you say." Katelyn glanced up at the sound of your locker shutting, pocketing her phone and standing with you. She walked in front of you and held the door to the gym open for you, and the two of you kept walking side by side. "I won't tell Laurance, but that's not to say someone else—say, Gene—won't tell him. You know he likes starting drama."

"Oh, my God. You're talking like my mom when she found out I was dating Laurance. 'Boys are nothing but drama and only want to impregnate you.' It's not that serious, Katelyn. We talked for less than five minutes. I mean it's not like I'm going to date Gene."

Katelyn laughed, holding the gym door open for you again. You stepped forward, thankful for the long sleeves and fleece tights of your uniform because of how cold the school hallways were. "Whatever. Your mom knows what's up."

"Says the girl approaching her one year with her boyfriend."

"Jeffory's a good guy." Katelyn playfully hit your shoulder. "He would never impregnate me, plus my dad likes him."

You hummed in faux disbelief, scrunching your nose and looking over at your friend. "I don't know . . . You guys got kinda freaky at the movies that one time."

"Oh, my God, that was one time and we just made out!"

The both of you burst out laughing and dropped the subject there. You spent the rest of your walk to the cafeteria comparing schedules, finding out you had four (technically five, if you included athletics despite being on different teams) classes together.

The school lunch was always something to marvel at. It was significantly better than the provided lunch at your public school in Scaleswind or any other lunch you'd ever had. Though, good food was a given since Phoenix Drop High was a privately funded school.

And the good food was was free to you. Thank the Lord for scholarships.

You led Katelyn to the circular table Laurance and Garroth had commandeered and sat next to her. Seven of the eight seats at the table were taken, and the empty one was next to you. Dante, who had been previously sitting by a timid boy with white hair, swiftly switched to the empty seat beside you.

"Watch this, Travis." Dante turned to you, a flirty smirk playing at his lips. You raised your brows expectantly as you speared your fork through the pasta on your plate, waiting for whatever idiotic thing he was going to say. "Hey, baby, are you a freezer? Cause I wanna stick my meat in you."

"OH MY GOD."

"EW!"

"Dante Lars Accardi!"

"You are fifteen!"

"What is wrong with you?"

You coughed, shoving Dante away from you so hard he fell out of the seat.

"Do not talk to me ever again," you said, shaking your head. You reached beneath you for your backpack, unzipping the main compartment and digging around for something you'd made just in case something like this happened.

You pulled out a decorated jar. There was a pink ribbon wrapped around the lip and you had bedazzled it to say 'd-bag jar.' Garroth saw what it said and giggled.

"You actually did that?" he asked, nodding to the jar.

"Yes! Because I had a vision of the future and saw this happening." You uncapped the jar and set it on the table. "Fifteen dollars in the jar, Dante."

"What?" he yelled.

"Fifteen dollars," you repeated more firmly, motioning to the bedazzled jar. Dante heavily sighed, grabbing his wallet. "New rule guys; any time anyone says anything like are you a freezer cause I wanna stick my meat in you"—you side eyed Dante as he begrudgingly put a ten and five ones into the jar—"or does something a douchebag would do, you have to put money in the jar."

Katelyn laughed, but your proclamation was met by groans from Laurance and Garroth.

"When I said we should get a dirt bag jar last year I meant exclusively for Dante," Laurance groaned.

"What do you mean exclusively for me?"

"Take a guess."

"No," you said, recapping the jar and shoving it back in your bag. "It's for everyone now because I'm tired of him trying to ask me and the drill team girls out"—you pointed at Dante before moving to point at Garroth and Laurance—"and you two need to stop leading girls on just because you're hot. It's mean."

"I think it's a great idea," Katelyn said, shrugging.

"Only, because you'll never put money in it," Garroth said, rolling his eyes. "This is a rigged system. Us guys are going to end up putting more money in the jar."

You shrugged. "Maybe you shouldn't say and do jerky things."

"What are you even gonna do with the money at the end of the year?" Laurance asked.

"I was thinking we like split it among us at the end of the year or donate it," you replied, picking up pasta with your fork and putting it in your mouth.. "We'll figure it out later."

"Watch us forget about this halfway through the year," Katelyn said, chuckling softly.

"Probably," you mused. You glanced up, expecting to meet the gaze of someone you knew but instead locking eyes with the black-haired girl. You smiled sweetly at her. You had seen her with the white haired boy during the first day orientation. She was probably friends with someone else at the table. "Hi," you said to her awkwardly after a moment. "Sorry about . . . That."

She smiled at you. "It's okay. Garroth kind of warned me something like that would happen."

You hummed, glancing at Garroth. So she was one of his friends. "I'm Y/n," you said, returning your gaze to her.

"Aphmau," she said. She motioned to the white-haired boy sitting next to her. "This is Travis."

"We met Aphmau this morning and decided to invite her to sit with us," Laurance said, motioning to himself and Garroth. "And turns out Travis and Dante were already friends, so it worked out."

You hummed and turned back to Aphmau, holding her amber gaze. "Do not fall for these lunatic's smooth words and romantic gestures, Aphmau. It will end badly."

Your tone was joking, but you were speaking from experience. It wasn't that you regretted dating Laurance, you simply regretted the things that happened while you were and the effect you let it have on you. You regretted the notes that fell out of your locker and the mean words you read in your DMs and the snide comments you overheard, even if they weren't your fault.

You didn't want that to happen to anyone else.

"What?" Laurance exclaimed. "I'm not that bad. You literally dated me!"

You hummed, side eyeing him. "Seriously, it's not worth it, Aphmau. The girls here can be mean."

Aphmau let out a strained breath of amusement, glancing between you and Laurance. "Are you two . . ."

You immediately shook your head. "No. We were last year, but we ended it mutually."

A look you could only describe as relief crossed Aphmau's face, and you knew already that you were too late to warn her about the problems that came with dating someone like Laurance or Garroth. The problems that came with dating Dante, even. The popular boys that had practically every girl wrapped around their fingers.

Aphmau hummed, and let the subject drop there. She kept conversation going, though, by asking other questions about the school as a whole. Travis jumped in with a comment or question of his own every now and then, but the rest of the lunch hour was spent simply getting to know the new freshmen.

You walked with Aphmau to her sixth period when the bell signalling lunch was over rang. You found out you had the same class as her (art, along with Garroth and Laurance) and sat with her at one of the tall tables. The four of you spent most of the period talking, since Mr. Smith led a fairly self guided art class.

You departed from the group for seventh period English. You knew Katelyn had the same class you did, so you waited for her outside the door so you could pick seats together. It took a moment, since her sixth period was practically across the campus, but you nearly ran into a silver-haired girl when you gave up on waiting and decided to walk into the class.

"Oh, Sasha!" you said, smiling at her. She looked up and returned your smile with a genuine one of her own when she saw you.

"Hey," she said. You knew Sasha was affiliated with Gene, but you liked her. Even with Laurance breathing down your neck about how terrible of a person she supposedly was, you considered her a friend. "Looks like we have English together again."

"Yeah." You nodded. Lucky for you, there was a group of three seats open. You set your bag in one to save it for Katelyn. "Katelyn has this class, too, but she's basically in another world right now." You laughed, settling into the desk beside Sasha.

"I don't think I've ever actually talked to Katelyn," Sasha said, setting her bag beneath her desk and leaning forward. She ran a hand thorough her straight hair. Her purple eyes were lined with dark eyeliner and she wore black lipstick. That paired with the paleness of her skin made you think she looked like a hauntingly beautiful ghost. "I don't think she likes me."

You shrugged. "Katelyn doesn't like a lot of people. I'm sure once she gets to know you she will."

Sasha smiled kindly. "That's good to know.”

Katelyn strolled into the class not long after. You moved your bag to beneath your desk so she could sit in the empty seat, and she greeted Sasha with a somewhat hesitant greeting.

It wasn't long until you were out in the field again, working with Hannah to straighten her legs when she did a high kick. You were thankful when practice ended you could finally go home. You could use the sleep after the long day.

Julie had already been picked up. You had texted your mom to let her know practice had finished and were now waiting on the bleachers to see her car lights pull up. You scrolled through your phone, thinking back to the offhanded comment you had made to Laurance, Garroth, and Aphmau in Art.

"I think I'm gonna try being more active on Instagram this year," you'd said. "Try to preserve memories."

Because of that, you spend the better half of the next fifteen minutes scrolling through your camera roll for a photo of the drill team. You found one with you and four other girls (the lieutenants) looking out at a football field and decided to use that.

You heard a car horn honk, and when you looked up you saw that your mom had rolled down the car window to wave to you. You smiled and stood up, running across the field with your bag to reach the car.

"How was school?" she asked, driving off once you secured your seatbelt.

"Good," you said. "I think Julie hates it, though."

Your mom laughed. "She definitely has . . . strong feelings about it. She told me that no one likes her, but you know how she tends to over exaggerate things."

You nodded. "I know. She's worried kids are gonna find out she's here on scholarship."

"Don't they know you are?"

"Yes! And once they find out she's my sister, they'll immediately know she is, too." You rolled your eyes, leaning against the center console to lightly press the top of your head to your mom's upper arm. "Oh, well. You can only do so much, I guess. What's for dinner?"

"Dad ordered Chick-fil-a to congratulate Julie for getting a scholarship and you for making Silver Starlet Captain." She smiled at you.

"Is he gonna be home tonight?" you asked, lifting your head. You mom shook her head.

"He will later. He's out fixing an AC unit right now."

You hummed. Your mom noticed the saddened tone and glanced over at you. She removed her right hand from the steering wheel and took hold of yours, running her thumb over your knuckles. "He'll be home tomorrow morning for sure. He said he wanted to drive you and Julie to school."

You nodded. "Okay."

She gave your hand once last squeeze before returning her hand to the wheel. The rest of the car ride was silent, only the soft sound of pop music coming through the car speakers.

i unfortunately cannot help but make chapters not long i guess

TAGGING: @garrothswiferealnotfake @wasting-away-on-the-internet @mellozhi @pushingdaisies1 i tagged anyone who showed an interest in this idea; if you’d like the be removed or notified whenever i update this story comment or DM to let me know!

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angstywaifu · 6 months ago

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Black Dahlia - 38. Dragged Along

Summary: Dahlia talks Bodhi into a little excursion to celebrate finishing their first year. A/N: Another follower milestone! I can't thank you guys enough for all the love and support. This is also our last part before Dahlia's second year and fourth wing/book content starts up. So enjoy this cute friend moment between Dahlia and Bodhi before we jump into that. Garrick Tavis x OC (Dahlia Aetos)

Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist | Links

“I can’t believe you talked me into this.” Bodhi grumbles as I lead him down the passage way I’d snuck us into back at Basgiath.

”Not my fault you’re easy to manipulate. You could have said no.” I toss over my shoulder back to him.

I briefly catch the mocking glare he shoots my way as we pass under a mage light.

”And face you’re wrath? No thanks.” He says with a nervous laugh.

I roll my eyes at him even though he can’t see it. “You have Xaden for a cousin and you’re scared of me?”

”I’ve grown up around him. Unless I stabbed him in the back and screwed him over, he ain’t going to do anything to me. I’ve only known you a year, and I’ve seen how ruthless you can be. You’re scarier than you think.”

”And yet here you are. Can’t be that bad.” I say with a smirk, the end of the passageway coming into view, the sun illuminating the outline of the hidden door.

”I feel like I’ve gotten myself in too deep with you to get out.” He grumbles.

”If anyone is in too deep it’s Garrick.” I say as I turn to him, Bodhi snickering at my comment.

”Very deep from what I hear.” He teases with a smirk.

He steps back as I raise my arm to hit him. “Xaden is perfectly capable of putting up his own sound barrier if it bothers him that much.”

”As is Garrick.” He points out, which I ignore as I pull out the casual infantry issued jackets I’d taken. “And do I want to know how the hell you got those?”

I look up at him and cock an eyebrow. “You’re really going to question how the biggest disappointment to her family who has lived at Basgiath for years managed to get these?”

Bodhi raises his hand and points a finger as he purses his lips and just nods. “Fair point.”

”Good. Now put this on and give me your jacket.” I tell him as I hold the infantry jacket out to him.

He takes it and shoves it on as I do the same before shoving both our jackets into the pack and lean it up against the wall next to the hidden door that will take us into Chantara.

”How did you know-” Bodhi’s words die on his lips as I look up at him, giving him a pointed stare. “Right, family disappointment and all that. Got it.”

I turn and push on the brick next to the door, releasing the door so we can push it open. There were plenty of other ways to get into town, but this was the easiest and safest. There was talks they were going to start letting riders into the town, but I still didn’t want to risk it till it was done. As long as Bodhi and I kept the jackets on and our relics covered, we would be safe from being reported. It also helped that Infantry cadets were able to wear whatever they wanted with their casual jackets in the town. Not many wore black, but we could make it work, especially with the setting sun.

And as we walk through the crowded town centre, no one bats an eye at Bodhi and I. We’d voiced the idea to Austin and Liz, but they weren’t as sold on sneaking out as we were and were happy to wait and see if the ban lifted, especially with the drinks now available to us at the Quadrant. But what I wanted to do couldn’t be done in the Quadrant. I hadn’t been here in over a year now, managing to sneak here just before crossing the parapet. I’m pleased to see their shop is still here. What they did wasn’t super popular, with their business mainly being to dragon riders. And seeing as Basgiath only held rider cadets for most of the year, their client base was few and far between.

”Oh fuck, he’s going to kill me.” Bodhi mutters from behind me as I lead him over to the shop, pushing open the door to the black painted store front.

A bell sounds overhead, announcing our arrival, a muffled voice coming from out the back. The inside is just as I remember. The walls adorned with paintings and designs on offer, the counter now freshly painted with a new coat of red, making it stand out from the dark wooden floors and black walls.

Hurried footsteps meet my ears, and from the doorway leading out back appears a familiar face I was more than happy to see. “Dahlia! About time my favourite client came back.” Blake says with a smile.

”Kinda hard with the ban on the riders quadrant being allowed into town.” I says with a smile. Till Bodhi and the others, Blake was the only one I would truly smile at. The one person who wouldn’t judge me.

”Though I see you found a way around that.” He says as he nods towards the navy blue jackets Bodhi and I wear. “Whose you’re friend?”

I turn and motion to Bodhi. “This is Bodhi. Bodhi, this is Blake.”

”Nice to meet you.” Bodhi says with a tight lipped smile as he side eyes me. Clearly not impressed on what I’d dragged him into.

”Did you get the request I sent?” I ask, turning my attention back to Blake.

He nods. “I sure did and it’s all ready to go.”

He turns and motions for Bodhi and I to follow him.

“You could have warned me. He’s going to kill me for this if he finds out I came with you.” Bodhi whispers to me.

”You’ll be fine. It’s not like we’re doing anything bad.” I point out as I follow Blake.

”Riders are banned from being here. This is going to scream where we have been.” He informs me as if I am not fully aware.

”Yes Rider’s are banned, but only on a town level. Nothing in the Codex states we can’t be here.” I say with a knowing smile before entering the room and walking over to the bench Blake already has laid out.

”What do you think?” Blake asks as I sit on the bench.

The design Blake holds out to me is amazing. Each flower is extremely detailed, and arranged just as I liked it. I couldn’t wait to see it once he did shading and detail work.

”It’s perfect.” I say with a smile and shrug off the infantry jacket I throw at Bodhi who catches it with ease.

”Perfect. Lets get stared.”

Bodhi grumbles as he sits in the chair next to me. “All I wanted was a drink in a damn bar.”

@imtoanonymousforyou @simplyme-fornow @omalmal @lalaluch @wolfbc97 @leptitlu @fullmoon-94 @the-fandom-ness @fan-of-many-bands @awkardnerd @heeseungthel0ml @acourtofsmutandstarlight @fairchild06 @freyagallileaevans @pit-and-the-pen @hannraumari @elliot-rain @thestarseternaal @stupid-and-contagious01 @hyperfixation-train-station @lxnvmvrzx @thebreadisthetruevillian @red0202 @fangirling-galore @craftytrashprincess @taliyahvermillion @xadenswhore @fenixyrie @lagrandeourse @hellodarling1357 @iambored24601 @thegiftofacreativemind @fanfictionjunkie1112 @mysticalfuncollectorus

Dahlia Tattoo Inspiration

#fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #the fourth wing #garrick tavis #fourth wing imagine #the empyrean #garrick tavis imagine #garrick tavis x reader #fourth wing x reader #garrick tavis x oc #garrick tavis x dahlia aetos #dahlia aetos #black dahlia #bodhi durran #bodhi fourth wing

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whattheskyknows · 3 months ago

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Aaaaa here's some 13 Students Remain trivia for those interested!!! Warning, obnoxiously long post below:

Misc.:

13 Students Remain was supposed to have class trials and investigations. The main reason why I decided to not include them was because after five chapters, the fic was already 60k words long. I knew if I included class trials and investigations, the fic would end up ridiculously long.

Additionally, I find writing class trials and investigations really difficult.

Whilst Shuichi, Maki and Himiko had always been included in the tags since day one, when I first started this fic, I had absolutely no intention of including them. I initially included them in the tags so the twist that they weren't in the simulation anymore wasn't spoiled right off the bat. I didn't actually have much interest in creating character/story arcs for them because they already had their time to shine in the actual game.

13 Students Remain was supposed to be made up of LOTS of shorter loops, not just three. However, a couple chapters in, I realised this would make this passion project longer than anticipated.

That being said, Kaede was always supposed to be the protagonist of the first loop. After that it was going to be a mash up of Kokichi and Kaito.

After deciding I wasn't going to include investigations and trials, I decided that instead of focussing on murder mysteries, I wanted to focus on developing friendships and character arcs. One of my biggest issues with DRV3 and Danganronpa in general is the lack of screen time and character development certain characters get. I wanted to dedicate as much time as possible developing the characters and letting them grow.

Interestingly enough, when I first started this fic, I didn't actually have a planned ending for it. All I knew was that I wanted everyone to escape one way or another.

Kaede's Loop:

Unfortunately, I don't have much trivial for Kaede's loop. It was actually pretty straight forward to write.

I listened to a lot of piano music whilst writing her loop. Depending on what sort of mood/atmosphere I wanted to create, I'd try to find a song to match.

Only two people were ever supposed to survive Kaede's loop. My main inspiration for the end of her loop was the rule 'The killing game and class trials will continue until only two surviving students remain.'

Kokichi's Loop:

Now THIS is where the trivia gets interesting

Right off the bat, I knew I wanted Kokichi's loop to end the complete opposite way Kaede's had. Kokichi was doomed to die from the start.

Tsumugi was going to initially set Kokichi up for the first murder, and give him the ultimatum that he can either play along and keep quiet about knowing she's the mastermind or she'll have him killed off. I altered this idea to instead have Kokichi make the decision to be quiet by himself, having realised that he needed to play the long game if he wanted to defeat her.

I was in my Project Sekai phase whilst writing Kokichi's loop, and used the song 'Lower'/'Lower One's Eyes' as inspiration for his and Kaito's relationship. The specific lines that I used for inspiration are 'I'm protecting something I can't have.' 'If we're separated, if we're lost, Every time we are, I try to connect with you over and over again.' And the most important line: 'No one knows yet, I'll be saved by a feeling.' (I know this song can be interpreted in different ways, but I chose to interpret it in a way that fit my fic lol.)

These lines in particular helped me write Kaito's regret following him throughout the loops. I didn't want Kaito to befriend Kokichi for literally no reason, because that would've made no sense, so I used Kaito's regret as inspiration to fuel their relationship.

Admittedly, Kokichi's loop is the loop I had the most fun writing. I thought writing him would be tricky, but Kokichi, surprisingly enough, was the protagonist I found the easiest to write.

During the bangle motive where everyone was given instructions, I completely forgot that I gave Kaito the instruction that he wasn't allowed to say he believed in people. I 100% forgot, then proceeded to write a scene that included him telling Kokichi he very much believed in him. I only realised my huge blunder after posting the chapter. The change of Kaito's motive was me bullshitting my way out of my mistake.

It took me a while to come up with an ending for Kokichi's loop I was satisfied with. A lot of my initial ideas were a lot darker.

At the end of the first Encore chapter, instead of visiting the hangar with Ryoma and seeing Kaito, Kokichi was supposed to take a nap in his room and accidentally use the Key of Love. He was going to wake up in Kaito's fantasy. Kaito was going to notice straight away that his 'rival' wasn't looking well, and spend most of the fantasy trying to cheer Kokichi up. Eventually, they were going to lie down together and Kokichi was going to have a moment to reflect with his eyes closed. When he next opened his eyes, he was going to see for a split second that Kaito was no longer lying next to him, before abruptly waking up in his own bedroom. I was initially going to use the mechanics of the Hotel as a way to subtly foreshadow Kaito's death; characters who have died don't appear in the hotel. Kokichi, Ryoma and Miu were going to head to the hangar and find Kaito actually crushed in the hydraulic press.

I scrapped this idea for several reasons. First, it felt out of place. Second, I wanted to focus more on Kokichi's and Ryoma's friendship. It was Ryoma who pulled Kokichi out of the depths of despair, and it felt wrong to end the chapter with an oumota heavy scene. I felt Ryoma deserved more recognition. Third, this would mean Kaito would've been actually killed off before Kokichi, Miu and Ryoma found him.

After scrapping that idea, I thought about having Ryoma and Kokichi team up to fake Kokichi's death. In order to lure Tsumugi out of the hangar, Ryoma was going to tell her he found Kokichi's body. Eventually, she was going to come out and investigate, only to find that Kokichi was actually dead. The plan was Kokichi was going to lie on the floor with a bottle of poison, but not drink it. However, what was going to happen instead was Kokichi was actually going to drink it, still full of despair. Again, this idea was scrapped because of Ryoma's role during the Encore chapter.

Ryoma wasn't supposed to pop off as hard as he did during the Encore chapter. Kokichi was only going to pretend to behave. Instead, the more I wrote this chapter, the more I was rooting for Ryoma to help Kokichi. Whilst I was extremely happy with this chapter (I'm gonna be honest, Encore Part 1&2 are my favourite chapters) I also realised I needed to find a way to kill Kokichi off without being too cruel to Ryoma.

Because I knew I wanted Kaito to be the third protagonist, I knew he also wasn't allowed to survive. As read above, he was supposed to die in the hangar. However, I didn't want Kokichi to die alone.

Then came the idea of the End Wall itself killing Kokichi. I felt like it was an ironic and perfect ending for him. Kokichi knew reaching beyond the wall would get everyone out the simulation. Breaking down the wall had been his goal for a long time. However, I decided the moment Kokichi turned a blind eye to Angie's and Gonta's deaths, he lost his right to escape. Saving everyone else whilst being skewered by the wall seemed like a poetic sort of ending for him. A happy ending, even. After all, he went through so much during his loop.

It was going to be revealed during Kaito's loop (specifically, Tsumugi was going to tell Kaito whilst he was wallowing) that Kaito accidentally pushed Kokichi into a piece of glass whilst shielding him, thus killing him. (A little bit more lore, during the end of his loop, Kokichi knew Kaito had pushed him into a shard of glass, but kept his mouth shut, knowing Kaito would be devastated that he caused his death again.) This idea was scrapped because I didn't want to be too mean haha.

Kaito's Loop:

Kaito's loop was the hardest loop to write because I had no clue what I wanted to happened. I knew I wanted Kaede's and Kokichi's loop to compliment each other, but I wanted Kaito's to be different so things wouldn't get boring.

I begrudgingly decided to bring Shuichi, Himiko and Maki back because I decided I wanted Maki and Kokichi to have a scene together. I also wanted to explore the outside world too.

Again, I turned to Project Sekai for inspiration. For Kaito, his loop AND character arc was heavily inspired by the song 'Cinema.' The lines in particular that inspired me were: 'I wonder when it'll be me playing the leading role.' 'Invaluable escapades and a misunderstood hero playing pretend.' 'What are you playing at? Who are you trying to be?' 'If you're not suited for the role then just rewrite the script.' 'Someday it'll be bye-bye when the end comes. Smile for the curtain call and the applause. The future I wanted to change has come.' 'I made it here, all the way from the bottom. Just like a movie, this is my story.' Anyway Cinema is such a bop please listen to it.

I wanted to use Kaito's loop as a way to show how everyone's characters had changed since the beginning of DRV3. The DRV3 cast are all scripted characters, with pre-decided roles and thoughts and likes and dislikes. I wanted to explore what sort of people everyone would become beyond DRV3's script.

I was going to add Gonta to the Kaito, Kokichi, Tenko, Ryoma training group, but didn't have the time or opportunity.

I decided I wanted to explore what sort of person Shuichi would become after finding out the grand finale of DRV3 was also a scripted lie. I wanted to explore how he'd react finding out his final stand was all for nothing, and was also scripted.

Heartless Journey became my most listened to song on Spotify during 2024, and I blame the hangar scene (or more specifically, 53 Hours Remain.)

If I ever felt stuck writing a scene, I'd listen to the DRV3 soundtrack. Heartless Journey became my go-to. However, for the last chapter, Killing Game Completion Ceremony was my go-to song. I felt that song captured the vibes I was going for.

I realised I could do something REALLY funny and have 13 Students escape from Team Danganronpa, thus truly giving the title of the fic a full circle moment. That is literally how I figured out how I could end the fic, all because I wanted to be funny. I'm not going to pretend it was pre-planned, I just saw an opportunity and took it.

Whilst Amamatsu had a romantic scene during the fic that basically confirmed they were dating, I didn't actually really want to give Oumota one. I think Kaito and Kokichi have a very complicated relationship, only something they understand. Having them being all lovey-dovey out of nowhere didn't feel right. That because said, their relationship is NOT platonic.

Ironically, I didn't want to go into much detail regarding their relationship, just because I thought hiding it/keeping it low-key would be something Oumota would do to upset (in the 13 Students Remain universe) Danganronpa fans.

I was initially worried that I trashed Tsumugi's character whilst writing this fic, but I didn't see the point having her act meek all the time, especially since we all know she isn't who she pretends to be. I really like my interpretation of Tsumugi. She's someone who knew what was going on from the start and wrote the script for the 53rd season.

I turned to Junko Enoshima for inspiration for Tsumugi's actions during the last chapter. As far as I'm aware, Junko Enoshima loved her classmates, which is why it caused her so much despair to watch them kill each other (at least, that's what I interpreted??? If I'm wrong then whoops.) I wanted to spell it out that whilst Tsumugi had fun tormenting everyone, she actually did love everyone deep down too.

I wanted Tsumugi's ending to mirror the ending in DRV3 where she's waving outside the school. Only instead, in the real world where rocks don't fall out the sky because a wall is being brought down by a flying robot, she gets the 'boring' ending of returning to her work. Tsumugi's storyline was supposed to have an anti-climatic ending.

In fact, the entire fic was supposed to end with not a bang, but with something quieter and more peaceful. Something that doesn't satisfy the audience, but the characters themselves.

#drv3 #kokichi ouma #kaito momota #kaede akamatsu #danganronpa v3 #ndrv3 #danganronpa v3 killing harmony #SORRY THIS GOT SO LONG AAAAA #as you can all see Kokichi's loop had a much more darker ending #and it's only because of Ryoma that oumota got to die together so #everyone say thank you to Ryoma #I really do miss this fic it means so much to me

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raayllum · 7 months ago

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Spark notes on "Callum lost his true heart" in S2. Excellent true heart meta here by @kradogsrats on how the concept works more generally that I would 100% recommend reading before coming back here

The true heart is a gift of childhood. For a few wonder-filled years, we each have innocent eyes to experience the world’s beauty in a simple way.

We see Callum on the cusp of being 15 undeniably believing that the resolution to the war can be that simple (even if we know well before S7, wherein Aaravos directly says they have similar views of how the world works, that Callum does not hold onto this simplicity for long). This is demonstrated, as Krads points out, in Callum's conversation in 1x02:

CALLUM: Can't you just make peace with them? HARROW: It's not that simple. CALLUM: It seems pretty simple to me. You don't want to die, I'm sure the elves and dragons don't want to die, so everyone agrees.

This emphasis on what people want over what they're devoted/committed to ("I'm sure they don't want to die" -> "I am already dead") is similar to Ezran's in arc 2 ("We all want peace and we all want love [...] you want to hurt someone else") that is both dismantled and upheld ("You want Janai to attack!" / "I want them to hurt"). To hammer it in further, Harrow even denotes that Callum is operating under the illusion of childhood, where adults have all the power/freedom.

What happens, I think, over the course of season one and season two is a bit of a domino effect, with Callum making choices in season one that season two continually 'knocks' down so to speak. The first and easiest example, perhaps, is Callum's choice in 1x03 between staying and trying to save Harrow... or choosing his little brother, who will remain in danger the longer they stay at the castle (Runaan and Viren both presenting strong antagonistic forces) and even worse danger the longer the egg remains.

Callum glanced out a tower window and saw Ezran in the courtyard searching for him. But how could he leave the tower when the king was in so much danger? Callum tried to think of what the king would want him to do. “I’m coming, Ez,” he called out the window. He gave one final look back at the door to King Harrow’s chamber, then bolted to the spiral staircase. He took the stairs two at a time, trying not to look at the dead bodies strewn on the way to his little brother.

—Book One: Moon novelization

Now, this choice makes sense. It is in many ways just another version of the same one (choosing Ezran and his safety) that Callum had made earlier this same episode. Both are more complicated choices ("the right thing, I hope" does not beget certainty, and therefore does not beget simplicity) but we'll get to that in a moment.

The final domino set up in season one for Callum's true heart is, I think, choosing to destroy the primal stone. The reason I say these are the dominoes, so to speak, is because each of these choices are made in a very distinctly Callum-y way, by which I mean: he thinks to a certain degree he can skirt the consequences.

This is not to take away from the weight of the choices Callum is making — they're still sacrifices, they're still honourable, he's still aware that he's risking Something — but there's still clearly a 'block' of some kind between "this is what I'm choosing to sacrifice" and "this is the full consequential weight of my sacrifices".

For example, the primal stone means a great deal to Callum. He states that "without this, I'm nothing" and it's a great powerful tool of magic. However, when Callum destroys it, it is currently unknown to him that this means no more magic, point blank. The consequence for his choice is steeper than he'd imagined, and now he has to live with the reality of it (for a time, anyway, but it's not like the journey to primal magic isn't gruelling, anyway).

But as we grow up, we are forced to make choices, sacrifices, compromises. And they change us forever.

The same happens when it comes to learning about Harrow's death. Callum was happily writing him a letter two episodes ago, reassuring Ezran in 1x03, etc etc. And yet:

Callum made a sacrifice, then convinced himself that maybe he hadn't, and had to face the devastating reality of what he knew was most likely, on top of why Rayla wasn't able to tell him for the same reason(s) he couldn't tell Ezran.

I also want to highlight Claudia (and Soren)'s betrayal of Callum as well for two reasons. The first, and less interesting/important one in some ways (to me, anyway) is that if Callum's betrayal of 7x02 contributes to the last vestiges of Ezran's true heart being snapped to pieces, it would make sense that Claudia's betrayal would likewise contribute to Callum's.

The more interesting/important facet of the Callum/Claudia breakdown is, to me, what happens before Claudia shows her true colours, and whereupon she hasn't done anything (knowingly) wrong to Callum yet, and still:

RAYLA: Callum, I know you trust them, but if we let them come with us, by the time we know the truth, it'll be too late. Do you understand? We'll lose everything. CALLUM: So what do we do? How can we figure out if it's help, or a trap?

Callum has already made a Compromise. He trusts Claudia, but Rayla doesn't, and he ultimately trusts Rayla more than Claudia, even this early on, the same way he trusted Ezran more than Claudia (and didn't trust Claudia with Ezran, then) in 1x03. So he goes along with the illusion plan, which would've been pretty crappy to do to an old friend if Claudia (and Soren) had been genuine in their offer to help.

So I think in quick succession over a few days, most if not all of Callum's true heart gets shredded to pieces within the first few episodes of season two. Barring that, I think 2x07, specifically the choice to do dark magic, takes whatever remains.

AARAVOS: You call it corruption. I call it compromise.

'Could he really bring himself to go through with his plan? What if he didn’t succeed? What if he compromised his beliefs and it was all for nothing? […] But Rayla was in trouble.' —book two: sky novelization

While Aaravos lists off choices, sacrifices, and compromises as though they are separate things, and occasionally they can be, I think more often than not in life and within TDP that they are all the same thing.

Do you choose (sacrifice) your father or your baby brother? Do you sacrifice your oldest friendship (compromise) to ensure your travelling party can be safe? Do you use dark magic (a compromise, a sacrifice of yourself) to save someone you love?

And Callum's dark magic use falls into his previous pattern of you made a choice, and you knew there would be consequences, but you never dreamed it'd be This. And finally — finally — in 5x08, Callum makes a choice with the full knowledge of the consequences, of exactly what he's risking — and what he refuses to sacrifice.

His true heart has been gone for a while by this point, I think — but within the narrative, Callum is an adult from 5x08 onwards. He knows undeniably what he'll sacrifice and why, and what he won't.

(Something something sacrificing your true heart to protect the person who is your heart and your truth.)

#tdp #the dragon prince #callum #tdp callum #tdp meta #s2 #arc 1 #analysis series #mini meta #analysis #i also don't know (tbh) if rayla as we see her in show canon. ever has her true heart but #hmm

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feyclowns · 1 year ago

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a look at magic and the core system

the core system explanation and my loose idea of what magic is. this uh. this got long. this is a longass post.

my thoughts on magic

i have this idea that mother nature, while creating her earlier lifeforms, used magic as a sort of bind-all, something modeled after the overarching powers of time and creation, etc- giving them extra powers and extending their life (like a kid making their first ocs). most of her older creatures are on planes higher up and function on magic. as she got better with her craft she began to appreciate the complexity of making all those bits and pieces stuff on earth has, and the faster ebb and flow of life AND death. humans are one of her favorite creations.

magic is inherently chaotic. it exists in multiple forms, on multiple planes. it's something that touches things in a biological way and yet obeys physical laws set before it. it can be stored and used up. it can create more of itself. it can corrupt things. when mother nature realized it was a bad idea to give near-unlimited power to beings when she was creating ones of lower ability on the planes below, she changed magic and the creatures that used it- gave them weaknesses, sometimes bordering on the ridiculous, compulsions too. things to keep them in check.

i also like to think you can't entirely 1:1 seelie to humans on even a biological cell-scale. they just fundamentally are different.

magic's function

the more pure magic is, the more powerful it is- magic comes in all colors of the rainbow, but different colors have slightly different attributes. one can never truly filter one color out of magic entirely, as it needs all its components to function.

with the True Fey nearly extinct, the only beings that can use raw magic without the assistance of a device or sigil are genies, and i'd argue they got quite the short end of the stick considering their compulsion.

fairies, fey and their subspecies primarily function on purple magic. this stuff is filtered, diluted, as "neutral" as one can get. if you create magic rather than consume it, and your species functions on filtered magic, you cannot handle it raw. like, your body can't handle the extra energy. physically.

magical backup is when a fairy has so much magic in their system they cannot filter the chaotic energy that magic produces and explode.

filtered magic is also, simply, on paper, easiest to use. as a third party, non-seelie magic user- use raw magic while unprepared and get evaporated while changing the laws of physics. use overfiltered magic without the correct sigils and nothing happens except maybe a bitter taste in your mouth.

onto the core system.

the core system

the neural core is where magic flows freely up towards- the filter strains clean, purple magic from the magic produced by the central core. conscious wishes are also made from the brain connected to the core here.

the central core is where magic is generated. the central core takes calories and nutrients from ingested food (fairies have a stomach that is right next to their core) and converts it into magic. the core membrane acts as a storage for filtered magic in both areas.

the core pools are located at the base of the wrists of a fairy, which are where excess magic flows and stays in anticipation of use. when a fairy exhausts the magic from their pools, they must wait until they begin to refill from the reserves in the core membranes.

the inner cores are the most important part of the system; if this part of a fairy is damaged they will die. this part also holds the data for the rest of the body- if worse comes to worse, the inner cores will maintain the body parts left and rebuild the core system before completing the rest of the body. this is in part why fairies are so gd resilient. no inner core, no regeneration.

magic threads are what magic travels along throughout the body. they are thick, wide tubes that extend through the torso and extremities. the central thread is also called a nervous thread. during pregnancy, the body creates a sixth thread (and sometimes seventh) to deliver magic to the developing child's core.

fairies produce raw magic in their central cores. they have two cores- a central and neural core, which are connected to each other through the nervous thread and extend to their magic pools and flow magic through the body by the four magic threads.

anti-fairies are where all that excess magic goes when fairies filter it out. anti fairies don't need to generate magic or filter it- they can handle it just fine. they have a simpler core layout- a thick core membrane to hold their magic and the excess chaotic magic swirling about in their inner core. this enables anti-fairies to grant powerful rule-free wishes. anti-fairies tend to have strange colored magic threads, generally aligning with the color of their counterparts' eyes.

pixies are quirky things. pixies have the same amount of cores as their fairy cousins but do not produce raw magic. they instead need to feed on magical creatures (or take their magic supplements, as provided by pixies INC) to keep their core systems afloat. another issue is that most pixies' core filters still work- which would be fine if they produced magic. pixies overfilter their magic, leading them to use a highly complicated wand (along with several binding contracts) to utilize the magic still delivered to their core pools. (it's also a phone. why not toss that in for free? Head Pixie was feeling really nice when he made that decision.)

pixies have a very large core filter and membrane in their neural core, with a small central core and large magic pools. their magic threads are thin.

#gettin' biological #anti fairy biology #fairy biology #pixie biology #fairly oddparents #fop #the fairly oddparents

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felixcloud6288 · 6 months ago

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Dungeon Meshi Chapter 87

Villain Origin Story

I want to talk about something that relates to the chapter as a whole and I'm going to save it for last.

This will be interesting to watch animated.

Ear shape is the easiest distinguishing feature of the races. If they don't have obvious physical differences, the ears can help identify what race someone is. The ancient humans who first discovered the demon appear to be gnomes, but for some reason something feels a little off to me.

I'm making a heavy assumption here but I feel like the races were actually the results of various tribes wishing for things that set them apart from the other tribes. Some tribes wished to be tall and strong and that made the Tall-men. Some wished to be wise, long-lived, and magical and that made the elves. Some wished to be stout, industrious, and sturdy and that made the dwarfs. Orcs and Kobolds are the descendants of furries.

And maybe ear shape became the way the races could tell each other apart where there weren't other obvious features. Tall-men have small round ears, Elves have long pointed ears, Half-foots have large round ears, gnomes have large pointed ears that are higher up the skull.

At first, I thought the person saying "No, a little shorter" was talking about height, but they might be talking about lifespans. So perhaps the long-lived races' lifespans are shrinking because they have an innate desire to not live so long.

So let's throw out my genetic explanation to half-elves super lifespans for a magical one. The ancestors of the long-lived tribes wished for immortality and then constantly wished for it to become shorter. The ancestors of the Tall-man tribe likely did not make any such wishes to begin. So the reason Marcille and other half-elves will live 1,000 years might be because they count as part of the tribe that the 1,000 year lifespan wish applies to, but not part of the tribe the subsequent adjustments apply to.

In chapter 80, Marcille said that most half-elves don't actually live to old age because of illness and accidents so it might be possible that not even the 1,000-year lifespan wish applies to her and half-elves are actually immortal.

My eyes bulged when I saw this. It turns out Mithrun's demon depiction in chapter 62 was literal.

This person was a "dungeon lord" before the concept existed.

She's the one who speaks to the demon and whose wishes it grants. Since there was only one of it and multiple wishes could conflict, maybe the demon decided to work through a "lord" so it could have a singular point of focus when granting wishes.

Prior to dungeon lords, priests probably acted as a means to focus multiple people's desires toward a common goal which the demon could more easily feed on. But once it was sealed away, the demon prioritized quality over quantity.

This looks like the kind of world Laios would wish for.

The city looks like the dwarf ruins in the seventh floor and the tree looks like Marcille's house. Maybe the demon admired the ancient peoples' vision and wanted to preserve and recreate it in some way. Or maybe it's creatively sterile and can only copy what other people have thought of.

Yeah. That would explain why the demon manipulates its lord.

From what I can tell, the demon didn't manipulate its lord before this. It would grant any wish asked even if the demon didn't like it. But after granting a wish that deprived it of its favorite food, the demon has become far more picky about how it grants wishes.

Perhaps the demon ate too much of that lord. All that was left in him was a hollow emptiness and a desire to end everything. And maybe the demon now takes that as the cue that it's time to consume its current lord. When the lord starts to desire an end to everything, the demon grants it by eating all their desires and leaving them to die like they want.

The demon said it can't grant its own wishes, but maybe it actually can in a roundabout way. When it destroyed the world, the demon wished it had eaten everyone without worry of running out. And almost as if in response, a human discovered it.

What if the world was indeed completely destroyed but the demon's wish restored the upper world to a state where its wish could be fulfilled if it worked toward that?

What if the demon's wish allowed it to have its own will and the power to choose what wishes it grants so that it cannot be forced to act against its own desires?

What if the demon's wish twisted its mind in the same way the demon twists the minds of its lords?

Long ago, several humans sat together for a wonderful meal and one of them wished that this happiness could last forever. And the demon mourned that it couldn't grant that. And after it destroyed the world, the demon had to start back from the beginning, granting wishes for shared meals and full bellies.

And this time, the demon decided that it will grant that wish it thought it couldn't. But it's approach is missing the actual reasons anyone would make such a wish. So what the demon will create is something that ultimately will not satisfy it, just like what every dungeon lord feels.

This went longer than I thought it would but now let me get onto that thing I mentioned at the start.

The demon's backstory doesn't quite align with the backstory Mithrun gave in chapter 62. According to Mithrun, the ancients opened a gate to a dimension with infinity and demons came out of it as well. But the lion's recollection indicates that particles from that dimension just drifted into the world.

There's always the possibility that somewhere else in the world, humans were experimenting with magic and accidentally opened a small portal, but it also feels like mana comes from that other dimension and periodically flows into the world.

Perhaps mana and spirits come from that infinite dimension and flow into this world when mana is depleted. Ancients used magic, and they attempted to refine magic to make it work batter. And that refinement caused the infinite dimension to begin shaping itself to try understanding this dimension.

It kinda sounds like gnome magic. Maybe gnomes were the original humans and all other species branched off them.

And the whole origin of demons was because of a screw-up where the magic kept responding to primal desires of every living creature. And since it wanted to understand, it started eating things as well which gave it an appetite.

So the demon's origins might be the equivalent of a machine-learning algorithm being fed horribly unbalanced training data. It is just like gnome magic and the issues with making golem cores.

I feel like this is an important aspect to understanding the demon's true desires.

The demon is an infinite being but I think what it truly wants is to be part of this finite world. It fed itself to everything it could and those bits became part of the world. But as an infinite being, it could never be fully consumed and thus couldn't fully become part of the world.

I suggested the demon's wish may have twisted its mind and my greatest argument for that is this: It originally wanted to be part of this world and it would eat and be eaten in the hopes that it could achieve that. But now it's forgotten that part and it instead just wants to eat. Now it's trying to swallow the world and make it part of itself rather than trying to be part of the world. It's chasing after what it thinks will give it what it truly wants and is willing to sacrifice what it truly wants to get it. It's just like all the dungeon lords.

back

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi readthrough

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sysmedsaresexist · 1 year ago

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Psych Critical

This post is highly related to this post, and I hope you'll read both. This was written second.

I've sent a couple asks to anti psych blogs talking about my own situation.

My goal isn't to change their minds, but to see what options they think are available to my family. Not every attempt at communication is an attack on a stance. I have real questions.

If there are other options, I'd love to hear them. I want these options to exist. I want more than what my family is going to get.

However, no one has responded to my asks. Maybe they think it's bait and I'm trying to catch them in a trick, maybe they don't know the answer, maybe they don't care (if you're one of those blogs, you've forfeited an opinion on my life).

So I'm going to post, under my own name, and ask again.

This isn't bait. This is my life, my every day normal. This is my father's life, every single day.

Psych Critical is a stance that I don't have a choice in. The psych system is only one thing that my family will turn to for help, and if we don't approach it first, it'll approach us on less kind circumstances. And that's genuinely what we're looking for.

Help.

And I think blanket generalizations like the above are about as useful as trash. I shouldn't have to hate myself and my family for needing help and seeking it out.

My father has something called NF (Neurofibromatosis). You might know this as "elephant man disease," though these are distinct disorders that are different from each other. It's the easiest way to describe it, though. He has tumors all over his body, inside and out, in his case. Visible lumps all over his body.

Unfortunately, these tumors are also on his brain. This causes him to have seizures, strokes, hallucinate, and have bouts of violence towards anyone and everyone. Specifically concerning is the voice of God telling him to punish his (now adult) children, and threatening to harm people based on the colour of their skin and religion. These hallucinations likely stem from the fact that he was raised as an orphan in the church (yes, it's exactly what you think).

There was a time when he could have gotten treatment, but we're past that. Initially, he refused. He was scared, I'm sure he didn't think it would end up like this. Now, he's unable to consent to treatment, and it's so progressed that surgery isn't an option. Chemo never was. To make matters worse, he's an alcoholic, to the point that not drinking will cause seizures and will likely result in death. Not to mention the damage to his liver that's slowly killing him. It's not functioning well these days.

There is no POA or will, and he's not able to consent to signing either. He will not go to any doctors at this point. You can't even have a conversation about this with him. Every plan he's set up on, retirement, pension, disability-- he calls them constantly to fuck around with it, cancel it, take his children's names off it, tell them he doesn't need it. They've stopped talking to him and will only discuss with my mother, despite there being no POA in place.

He is only going to get worse. He is going to die, and he doesn't understand.

My father is already dead. The man that raised me is gone, the man that cared isn't in that head anymore. It's a cruel soul using his body like a puppet until it finally gives out.

At this point... my siblings, mother, and I have had to cut him out of our lives. He's mean. He's so goddamn mean and cruel. His words cut harder than his fists, only because there's nothing left to him. He's skin and bones.

I don't know how much longer my cousin can let him stay there. Then what?

At some point, he will need to be forcibly committed and treated, if only to make him comfortable during his final... years? Months? Days? Because of the unique circumstances, there's likely not a drug that can help curb any of the symptoms. Drugs might be able to get him off the alcohol, but he's not going to like that at all, and that's not what's causing the hallucinations. His memory only gets worse by the day. Simple daily things like using the stove are becoming more of a danger, because he keeps walking away and forgetting.

I have about as much choice in this as he does, and the sooner he's committed, the better for everyone, including him. I mean, he can continue to stay out, and pass out on the streets trying to get home from the bar after getting kicked out for starting fights or getting angry when he's cut off. I don't know if or when he's going to forget the way home, and even if I try not to care... I'm scared.

I fear the day he's picked up by the police. I want him in the legal system even less than the psych system, and I think he'll fight any police that try to approach him. This is a man that, I promise you, would rather be homeless than denied alcohol.

This is not my biological father. He came into my life when I was only 1 year old. My biological father was, surprise surprise, also an alcoholic. He was in a drunk driving accident before I was born that killed other people. He was the driver.

My step dad, the only dad I've ever known, scares me sometimes.

I don't want to be the child of two murderers.

So I ask again, what do you suggest? How is this ableist? Your focus is psychotic people, but that's not the only people in these facilities. That's not the only disease that they treat. I read a couple posts from a linked resource (it's tumblr posts, let's not lie), and one of them mentioned something akin to outpatient treatment. @trans-axolotl because I'm using your post. I actually appreciate the "I don't know" of your answer.

It's a lot better than, "you're ableist for even thinking about this."

Friendos, I don't have a choice but to think about this.

This seemed silly to me, though, because psych wards already act like that. Many of the patients leave during the day to work, shop and visit family, and return at night. Rinse and repeat for them, every day. There's a surprising amount of individualized treatment, freedoms, and steps for each patient.

But not everyone can adhere to that. If my dad got out during the day, he would be drinking, and this would exacerbate the symptoms. He's a dick when he's drunk on the best of days. It's why my mother divorced him originally, before the hallucinations started.

A dry house wouldn't work, either. The places this man has hidden alcohol... he's like a squirrel, it's just everywhere, and he comes across them like,

Inside the WALLS, my guys. Hidden in the basement, the wall goes up to uncovered beams and there's a gap, and he hides them down behind those walls.

Do you know how many spiders are in there? He can fucking drink them, he wins that battle. Touché, dad.

When they tear the house down in the far future, I'm willing to bet they'll find a full liquor store down there. And again, the first time someone says, "you can't bring that in here," he'll turn around and say, "then I'm not going in there, diddles," because his fucking language part of the brain is broken and no matter how many times you explain that "diddle" is a CSA word that you can't just use randomly like that, he forgets.

When I first got married, I had him over to my apartment to spend a few nights. The amount of alcohol that got into my house... I don't even think he brought boxers, just alcohol, and it ended in a fight, and I made him leave. After that, he refused to come visit me. He's never been to my sibling's homes. It was the final straw for me, the things he said to my husband are unforgivable. I keep watch from afar now, talking to my cousin about him.

I said a few paragraphs up that the man that cared is gone. Sometimes, I look back, and I'm reminded of all the doubts growing up that he ever really cared. But I still care, and loving him is painful. The fear of what he's going to do next is even worse.

I want to finish this off with one of my... I don't want to say favorite, but this documentary was one that helped me, a fair bit, when it came out. I'd genuinely like the opinions of anti psych people on this documentary, and the true extent of violence and self harm that some patients display. Heavy trigger warning for severe self harm and violence toward others. Obviously.

For some of these patients, do you see another option for treatment? If not psych wards, what do you suggest happens to some of the patients in the video? What role did the staff actually play in some of the events portrayed?

youtube

As a general reminder, this isn't to change minds but open dialogue.

"Psych crits are ableist," is a pretty harsh statement considering the number of people in similar positions to myself. I feel like there's a huge disregard and ignorance for the violence that real people are experiencing.

Again, I'm psych critical, I don't accept the system as it is now, I think there's many improvements to be made. I think there is a need, in a very not small number of cases, for this type of system. I understand and appreciate the intersection of race, poverty and mental health that leads to anti psych sentiments, and I agree. There is a large number of people in psych wards that shouldn't be. This needs to be addressed.

But how do you reconcile both? I can't figure it out. I don't know.

#anti psych #psych critical #real life example #tw csa mention #tw involuntary commitment #not to mention that I'VE been in therapy since i was 4 #i certainly didn't have a choice in the system's lifelong involvement in my own personal life

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ask-a-vetblr · 1 year ago

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Hi I’m starting a book set in Australia (I’m an Aussie!) and it’s about Rabies getting loose in Australia but going to be like a sci/fi and horror novel. I thought I’d ask actual vets if you knew what could happen if rabies got loose in Australia?

gettingvetted here.

Our founder and native Aussie, drferox, is on hiatus, so I will give this a go.

Unfortunately for your book, rabies is one of the easiest diseases to control and eradicate, especially on a small scale and especially if you know the animal of origin. Vaccinations literally have to be upwards of 95% effective (at least in the US) in order to become licensed for use, and the immunity derived from rabies vaccines is long lasting at 1-3 years at minimum; it probably lasts longer but official studies to license vaccines for that long have not been done due to expense. Likewise, the vaccines are usually inexpensive compared to other vaccines like Lyme, as you can vaccinate a cat or dog for 3 years for roughly $25 per vaccine. You typically have plenty of time (weeks to months) after a possible exposure to determine if the biting animal is rabid, and even if you never find that out, rabies vaccination will prevent rabies in an exposed individual as long as they themselves are not showing symptoms (aka, there's a handful of known rabies positive animals in the country and you/your dog just got bitten by a kangaroo? get vaccinated, you're going to be fine even if they can't find the kangaroo again). The symptoms are pretty obvious and pretty classic, making the animal easily identifiable even among its peers, and once the stage of being symptomatic has arrived and thus transmission is possible, the animal will die in a handful of days, thus self-limiting the spread. The only "treatment" is humane euthanasia and as wildlife are the usual reservoir of the virus, there isn't much of an uproar when a select few are euthanized for testing or prevention each year. An interesting factoid is that while the US still has rabies, we *only* have wildlife strains present (not canine rabies). So even if a dog gets rabies from another dog, they will still have acquired skunk, bat, or raccoon strains of rabies. This is due to years of regulating that cats, dogs, and ferrets (domesticated carnivores) be vaccinated for rabies and euthanized for biting if unvaccinated until the canine strain was eradicated. Canine rabies is still an issue in countries with lots of feral dogs.

As a vet in the US, it is a MAJOR headache to ship animals from rabies-endemic areas to non-rabies-endemic areas. Even Hawaii is extremely difficult to pull off. Not only do they have to be vaccinated early (usually within 6 months of travel), they also often have to have rabies titers performed within the same time frame or sometimes even closer to the travel date. An extended quarantine period (I seem to recall that it is 6 months in some cases?) is also required prior to entry for countries such as Australia so that even if the rabies vaccination and titers were incorrect or forged and the animal has rabies, they would still show symptoms prior to entry into the country. Also, while unrelated to rabies, Australia requires veterinarians (not animal owners) to personally administer very specific parasite prevention to animals at very specific intervals to prevent certain parasites from entering the country too, so the amount of prep work required for export itself is often long enough such that if the animal had rabies, you would find out before they left the country. The regulations also differ depending on country of origin - countries with less control over their rabies status are either banned from importing animals or face even stricter import regulations. If any of these steps are performed incorrectly or without pristine official evidence of doing so, the animal gets right back on the plane and goes back to its country of origin, or is held in official government quarantine at customs. So it would be quite difficult to get a rabid animal into the country. Humans are a different story of course, so that may be the best way to bring rabies into Australia in your story. However, humans getting rabies is extremely rare, and considering the excellent healthcare in AUS, a human would probably seek care and be diagnosed before they could become insane enough to start biting wildlife (again, the only real scenario I could think of that could feasibly bring rabies to AUS, because if a rabies positive human bit another human or even a dog, you simply vaccinate that human or dog for rabies and they will be fine).

So, let's assume that you got rabies into the country and a handful of wild animals of various species are exposed. We'll even assume that it was a dog that somehow brought it in despite all the red tape designed to make it impossible, and that dog is ownerless or escaped so there is nobody to tell officials what type or how many animals it bit before it died of its symptoms. It would probably take a significant amount of time for anyone to figure out what was going on. Vets who are educated in countries that have endemic rabies are taught that any animal with any neurologic symptoms should be treated as if they have rabies unless they recover. I.e., if a neurologic animal dies without a definitive diagnosis of some other neurologic disease (such as EPM, distemper, etc) and especially if that animal is unvaccinated for rabies, you MUST assume they had rabies and send them for postmortem testing so that any human or animal who was exposed to the potentially rabid animal can be vaccinated if necessary. However, vets who are educated in non-endemic countries are of course aware of the disease, but probably wouldn't have it on their radar for a neurologic animal. It would probably take a few wildlife or pet animal cases being sent for necropsy and testing after sudden neurologic death before rabies was diagnosed, which probably wouldn't happen until a few months to a year after the first case arrived in the country, at the earliest. Then a few things would happen.

First, the owners of the pet animals and the organizations dealing with wildlife would be extensively interviewed to determine location and possibly the species of animal that bit the now-dead-and-necropsied rabid animal. These areas would be surveyed extensively and unfortunately a lot of local wildlife mammals would probably be preventively eradicated especially if positive cases were found in a given species. Import/export of ANY animals from the country would be immediately halted and mandatory vaccination of all owned animals in the country would likely be established and enforced. Travel of humans likely wouldn't be stopped, but rabies vaccination would be added to the list of recommended vaccines for travel to AUS, similar to malaria vaccines in endemic countries. Again, the excellent and affordable healthcare system of AUS (at least compared to the US) would probably lead many or most Australians to be vaccinated for rabies prophylactially, which can cost thousands of dollars in the US and is usually not covered by health insurance. There would probably be a huge push for vaccination of wildlife with rabies vaccines dropped from aircraft, which could be done both within the area that suspected exposed or definitively positive animals have been found, as well as a radius around those areas as prevention. Vets would be mandated to report any neurologic or behaviorally abnormal animal even if rabies wasn't the suspected cause, and unfortunately would likely be forced to euthanize many animals that were not rabid. There is a chance that with these measures, rabies could be eradicated, but it wouldn't be certain, probably ever. Longer term, surveillance measures would be taken (and I don't mean surveillance like the FBI, I mean epidemiologic surveillance such as monitoring cases that pop up and physically checking on and sampling the typical populations of wildlife that carry the disease). Regardless, it would be extremely difficult to cause any kind of fatal epidemic using a standard rabies virus. Ounce of prevention/pound of cure and all that, but Australia currently chooses a pound of prevention.

Definitely an interesting concept for a book, but I would go with a carnivore parvovirus or canine distemper virus that mutates quickly enough that it can't be vaccinated for, and is transmissible from animals to humans. Parvovirus, specifically, is extremely hardy in the environment and is far more contagious than rabies. Without effective vaccines, I'm betting that either distemper or parvo would cause more death than the plague, especially among pediatrics. I'm not familiar with hendravirus given that we don't have it in the US, but to my knowledge that is also a horrific and contagious disease that is already present in AUS.

Hope this helps!

#madwriterscorner #book writing #rabies #rabies epidemic

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gayofthefae · 6 months ago

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It isn't just about proof of behavior or anything, set that aside.

It's about how once you even just experiment with viewing Mike as a love interest to Will - not even having feelings for him, just "his eventual/endgame love interest" - he hits every romantic trope. Everything he does, in fact, is some sort of classic romantic trope in writing.

Something shouldn't be. The first thing I did to figure out if St@ncy was endgame was see if they had an overarching story - because it wasn't maintained through the seasons, I had to stretch a little bit and in the end, they didn't really. So with that example, any other pairing that isn't endgame - even canonically romantic, when placed into this test does fail.

Everything Mike does is able to be justified as motivated by romance or lending itself to romance. That should not be true.

I can prove Mike's queerness and feelings in the diagnostic-style: eliminating all other possible explanations to find only one that fits every data point.

But I can also format as the classic theory on universal truths, basing it on the simple absence of something from the world. "This is true because there is nothing that proves it wrong and there should be. The implication of a lack of disproof is proof."

Mike has feelings for Will because there's no other explanation. But Mike also has feelings for Will because I have rewatched this show repeatedly since believing so and a single scene should have not fit it by now.

Again, I have failed to justify other storylines before. I can't. This is not a testament to my ability to justify things. It should not have any structure or tropes at all, let alone classic romantic ones every time.

They wrote it like a love story and they never didn't. They didn't take breaks from writing it like a love story. They maintained the storyline the one occasion that they didn't, not doing so was the acknowledged storyline. They wrote it like a love story. It always comes back down to structure. Love Mike Wheeler all you want but he doesn't exist. You can insert anyone you want into their storyline - just like how people say if Will were a girl more people would get it - and it'll fit.

Jim loves Pam but she's with Roy. She thinks Roy is dead and they bond more as he supports her in that grief. Roy comes back but now she's distancing herself from Jim in a way she didn't before. He calls her out on it and she apologizes and he thinks they've made up, but after he and Roy both end up moving to the same place for a job opportunity, she does not keep in touch and when she visits them, he confronts her about it and she defends that she didn't keep in touch with him because they're just friends. Roy confronts her about not telling him she loves him in a long time to which she is unable to respond, so he agrees to a business trip far away from her. She thinks he might be in danger there, though, and she apologizes to Jim and they work together to go after him. She does not know why she can't tell him she loves him and says she thinks this is the end of their relationship. She also expresses that she's scared she's not good enough for him to stay in her life, so Jim tells her how much he loves her, saying it's Roy's words. When they get there, Roy is dying and feeling too low to fight for his life because he thinks she doesn't love him (we're stretching the genre here, I'm doing my best). Jim reminds her that he needs her and she is able to help, so she tells him she loves him. Jim is heartbroken but understands, he didn't want Roy to die either. After they get back and Roy is safe, Pam is spending more time with Jim than Roy.

Transferring the story to a sitcom maybe wasn't the easiest call, but you get it, right? That makes sense. It plays like a love triangle, and that final leg of her spending more time with him than her partner raises eyebrows to still having feelings for him from when they bonded while he was out of the picture. Maybe you don't know how it'll end, but it doesn't play like a friendship. It plays like a love triangle.

#byler #stranger things #mike wheeler is queer #byler tropes

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wyvchard · 3 months ago

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Ghosts and a Cup of Joe

John Juniper looks in the mirror late at night and wonders what went wrong in his life for things to end up this way. And if he can survive this role for a bit more longer.

Unfortunately, he is alone in dealing with his thoughts, without distractions. The past doesn't want to let him go but the future doesn't seem to welcome him either.

Inspired by "Multo" by Cup of Joe. You can find the song here.

Content Warnings: Canon-divergence / AU, implied character death, shattered dreams, self-loathing, regretting past actions, angst, hurt no comfort, out of context / meant to be part of a bigger fic

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"Where do you see yourself in five years?"

If anyone asked John Juniper that question before that fateful August day, he would have given you an answer. But now?

... He doesn't even know if he'll even make it tonight. Not when the world around him became so different, so foreign, so changed. Like he no longer mattered.

He really should have died, if the sting on the side of his face is any indication. The civilians seemed to buy that it was caused by a stray power line and that he was lucky to have survived.

Lucky.

Just like that agent. The same one covering their mouth despite wearing a mask over it already. That look of tamping down the screams, trying to stay grounded despite the horrors because distractions would get one killed. They had to stop themselves from screaming because he almost got executed. They were trying to pry the mask off but he was too busy trying to kill them.

What he wouldn't do to get a distraction tonight. Especially with the state of his mind. Not when the old newpapers he'd seen stuffed in the study table showed his memorial service.

And the agent? The Phoenix?

Declared dead alongside him.

But he lived. He's alive, breathing, even. There's no way the Phoenix would just die like that. Not when they ruined him-

No.

"I ruined my own life," he muttered, trying to fight the bile rising on his throat. The words felt sour on his tongue as the pain returned with a vengeance.

His undamaged hand gripped the tiled sink, the bathroom looking more cramped than he's used to.

Zor... isn't exactly the easiest person to get away from. Once they decided to get their hands on you, they'd stop at nothing to do so. They can worm their way into people's minds in the most terrifying ways.

Not even his mask technique can help him forget how their words just wrap him around their fingers with the mastered ease of a director. It was impressive, if it hadn't been him on the other side of it.

And he'd been on the other side. There was a twisted sense of relief when he thought he was still in their good graces. The world seemed grand, lively even. Like anything he set out to accomplish will be in his grasp soon enough if he just tried. Like he'd be remembered.

The neighborhood in this place felt... devoid of life, as if the souls of people are held in their breaths. As if just saying the wrong thing can just... make them disappear.

The tiles felt colder as he turned out the lights and gazed upon the empty bed. The sheets were messed up by his tossing and turning. A subtle white mask was placed on the nightstand, clearly just a modified mask that's been painted over.

Just like how he feels-painted over and modified that he doesn't even know what his role is supposed to be.

This hot and cold game is making him sick, treating him with the warmest decency one moment and then icing him out the next. What is he even doing wrong?!

Why can't he just disappear? Why all the indirect ways to torment him? And why is he even staying?!

Despite being left alone at night, the thoughts of his companion lingered, wondering what's so important that he'd be left behind in the middle of the night.

Maybe he was taking the mask too seriously. It can't be that he's started to worry over these types of things.

His fingers felt the soft material of the mask as he stared at it absent mindedly with a wry expression before putting it on his face.

The mask fit him imperfectly. It was too loose. Like he's missing a piece. But it'll have to do. He's been saying that far too often lately much to his dislike.

He's no longer John Juniper, but a different John. A different John living a different life.

A life he attempted to escape from. A life that blends in. A life that is forgotten.

He made his way into the kitchen, glancing around the 'home' he's been staying in. Anything to avoid feeling alone in this place, feeling like he'd been abandoned again.

This house doesn't feel like his, despite everything else implying it is: clothes that fit him perfectly, certifcates and papers that frame his life, and considerations that give his eccentricities space. The day he arrived in this house felt like an audition to a role he had no script for but got the part anyway for some reason.

The calendar on the wall was placed in a way that's implied to have trinkets accompanying it. Like the house gutted itself to hide its treasures.

He doesn't belong here. The ring 'round his finger fits perfectly but it's just wrong. It's not his. This is not his part. He's not a husband. And he doesn't have this life.

He should've been arrested but everything feels like it's designed so he doesn't go through that. As if he's still being forced onto the stage to fulfill a role.

He flinched as soon as he turned on the stove and started boiling the water. The sharp tick was too sudden in the quiet lonely house this late.

He lost the script years ago. Not since Zor. Not since he demanded orders that could've killed Gibson, the first person he looked for upon waking up.

Someone else answered and that someone felt more like his warden and captor than someone who wanted to help him. A player who tried to show warmth, only to pull away once the warmth became too overbearing for both until they're burned.

He tipped the hot water on a cup and poured in a single serving packet of instant coffee. Part of him is slowly getting used to the taste, despite his reservations.

Their entanglement due to their rings and surname was suffocating. He can't even get out even if he wants to. He knows that it's a mutual feeling. But he supposes even ordinary people like to keep up appearances.

He can't even break free to pursue whatever he wants anymore. Not when he has to think about so many things. It's like directing a movie but the rest of the cast doesn't even want to listen to him.

Leaning on the kitchen table, he turned his head towards the moonlight that slipped in past the soft curtains. A small spot of light made him flinch before he traced where it's coming from: his ring. He promptly removed it from the light.

The silence in the house only made the noise outside worse. If he was straining his ears, he swears he can hear footsteps if anyone were to walk nearby. Which had been occurring more and more lately.

He stares at his ring again. While he's not exactly the most... restrained, he never imagined he'd be married in this disaster of a marriage. What kind of person would leave him alone in the house at a time like this?

... He doesn't want to be a widower despite the fact his marriage is strained at best. It's familiar in this world now, in a time where the sands of time have made his death a wound that scabbed over. Even as he still feels the sharp pang every time he's reminded of it, the soothing aspect of routine is... comfortable.

Maybe both of them are staying for the same reason. How pathetic.

The front door opened, revealing the one person he'd never admit waiting for.

"John?"

He knew another argument will brew within the next few minutes.

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This is a short idea I had for a long fic but I wanted to get this out there before I lose motivation due to life draining me.

Let's just say... whoever he's 'married' to has a ton of secrets. >:3

Tag List:

@phoenix-and-found-family, @the-one-and-only-043, @agentwraith, @agent--shadow, @silverdragon889, @blueorchid-95

@tillywunderwing, @agent-nor, @dandorime, @juniperfan16, @jellyfishgummy, @agentpheoness

@stellar-collective, @warden-draws-sometimes, @definitelyunhingedagentphoenix

#ieytd #i expect you to die #john juniper #ieytd fanfic #ieytd au #For *at least one* of you... You might know what AU this is.#Funny I wrote angst for him on his birthday. XD #Whoops then again he had it coming

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grandlinedreams · 2 years ago

Text

[heads up!: vague au setting, vampire!law, mentions of blood and blood drinking, cursing, there will be a part 2 to this]

He's hungry.

Normally that isn't a problem for Law, because he knows a work-around, tried and true ㅡ in the form of small white tablets that he drops into water, watches dissolve into watery red and downs without a second thought.

Far from the best tasting thing, but it works well enough to curb the burn in his gums, the insistent hunger that makes his eyes glow a vivid gold at the height of it.

But he doesn't have any tablets on him, hasn't made them in ages ㅡ because there'd been an issue with distribution of an ingredient he needs for them, and now he hasn't eaten in weeks.

He knows what Corazon will say, suggesting he find someone to feed off of ㅡ like it's the easiest thing in in the world. As if Law isn't a creature of myth, damned to the shadows and lurking at the corner of nightmares.

He's worked too hard to conceal himself and what he is to throw it away like that ㅡ no matter how tempting it truly is. He takes pride in the fact that it's gotten easier to explain away the pallor of his skin, the dark shadows beneath his eyes ㅡ he works the night shift at this clinic, and nobody asks. Nobody wants this shift, anyways.

The problem with not eating as of late, however, is the constant wear on his ever thinning restraint. The nastier of cases always seem to come in at night ㅡ consequences of drunken antics. Broken noses, shredded skin. The more severe are always cleaned up and shipped off to the hospital, because there's only so much they can do here. (There's also only so much he can take of the seemingly boundless stupidity that plagues this town's people, too.)

At least tonight has been slow ㅡ slow enough that he'd managed to convince his coworkers to leave with the promise of contacting them if he needs them. Now he has no company outside of the tinny strains of music and low hum of electricity, watching the dull glow of headlights thrown against the waiting room walls.

And then there's a set of headlights that slow to a crawl, blazing before they dim with the low purr of an engine stopping. Law sits up, listens for car doors opening (two. the driver side, and then the passenger) and shutting in tandem before looking up as the sliding doors give a hiss of pressurized air.

"Oh thank god." The speaker is a blonde man that reminds him a little of Corazon, unlit cigarette in his mouth wobbling as he speaks. "You can help, can't you?"

Depends, Law wants to say, but knows he needs to work on his bedside manner, because not everyone has the same flavor of humor that he does. So he nods instead. "I can certainly try. What seems to be the problem?"

Blonde man's visible blue eye flicks to his companion, and Law finally takes in how pale you are, the kitchen towel that's wrapped tightly around your forearm. Blonde man goes to unwrap it, and Law finally catches the sweet, delicious scent of blood.

"Wait." He says, tone sharper than he means to be as he backpedals, "Tell me what happened first." He definitely doesn't need you bleeding to death in the waiting room.

"It was an accident," you say, "and I think Sanji's being dramatic about it. I'll be fine." There's a haze to your eyes that makes Law think that Sanji is absolutely right in bringing you in, and that you're trying to downplay the severity of it ㅡ especially now that he can see the dark seep of blood into the kitchen towel.

He clenches his jaw, never more grateful for the mask that covers his mouth as he is now with the prominent burn of his gums and muted, answering growl of his stomach. He's so hungry and you've walked in like a goddamn buffet.

"I'll have to take a look at it and see if we need to call an ambulance to take you to the hospital," he says, and you blanch.

"Is that necessary?"

Sanji gives you a fierce look for him. "Do you want to die?"

"Still think you're being dramatic," you mumble, but it doesn't take a sharp eye to see that you're struggling to remain upright. Law reaches for the check-in sheet, placing it on a clipboard with a pen and pushes it to Sanji.

"I trust you can fill this out for them? I'll take them back and get an assessment done." He's on his feet and around the desk before you can blink, gripping your shoulders with surprising strength.

"Don't need your help."

He raises an eyebrow. "You want the wheelchair instead? I don't need to add head trauma to your chart if you pass out on me." That shuts you up, and he steers you through the double doors, watches you squint against the harsh lighting.

"Sit." He guides you to the examination bed, thin paper crinkling beneath you. Perching himself in the chair, he slides to a stop in front of you. "Let's take a look."

He's mindful as he peels the towel away, clicks his tongue in sympathy when you hiss as he pulls the towel away completely, pretending he doesn't want to pull his mask down and lick his gloved fingers clean of your blood.

He turns to grab a handful of gauze and the squeeze bottle of distilled water, ignores the watery red drip that puddles on the floor as he cleans your arm.

"How you haven't passed out is beyond me," he remarks as he examines the laceration, prodding carefully to see just how deep it goes. "But you're lucky."

You find it in yourself to scoff. "And how's that?"

"Still alive, aren't you?" Sharp gold eyes meet yours. "And you'll get to go home with just some stitches." With his hold on your arm, he can feel you stiffen.

"Stitches?" If possible, your face goes even paler. "I don't do stitches."

He raises an eyebrow. "Something like this won't just go away," he says, "and it'll take even longer to heal if left like this. Stitches areㅡ"

"No," you cut in. "No stitches."

Law's brow knits. Do you have some personal vendetta against stitches? True, they've never been a favorite of his either especially with how they itch while they heal. And if it's the application of them that you're worried about, he's good at them, hands steady and swift.

"I don't care what you do," you tell him, jaw set and eyes surprisingly clear now even for the blood loss, "but no stitches."

He hates the immediate solution that comes to mind. But it's two birds with one stone, even with the alarm bells going off in his head. It's a bad idea ㅡ a really bad idea. But he's so hungry, and you don't want stitches.

"I have another idea," he says slowly, still weighing his options, the mental flip of a coin. He's going to regret this if it goes sideways, but it's all he can think of at the moment. "But you need to trust me. And not tell anyone."

This time, it's you who raises an eyebrow, expression wary. "Okay? As long as it isn't stitches, I really don't care."

Law takes a deep breath, steeling himself before he tugs his mask down. He feels the descent of his fangs, the weight of them in his mouth as he tugs your arm closer.

"Remember what I said," he tells you as you watch him in growing confusion, "you can't tell anyone about this."

You don't scream, and part of him wonders if blood loss is finally taking its toll on you and you'll think that this is some kind of resulting delirium. Whatever you want to believe, so long as it keeps him out of trouble. The sink of his fangs into your skin makes you hiss, his grip tightening to keep you from flinching away as he waits for the numbing quality of his saliva to kick in. When you finally sigh and relax, he eases up.

And then he licks your wound. The glide of his tongue is slow and intentional, cleaning the beading of fresh blood from it and biting back a groan of satisfaction. Part of him notes now that the wound is too straight and precise to be a true accident, but he can't bring himself to pull away and demand a detailed answer because you taste so much better than those damn tablets.

The first swallow is rough, the tang of your blood on his tongue intoxicating ㅡ and then he takes another, and another.

Law knows he can't take too much from you, aware that you've already lost quite a bit but is still reluctant as he retracts his fangs. Another slow lick along the length of it finishes the job, and Law moves to clean residual blood before he wraps it in clean white bandage.

"There we go," he announces, watches the slow, sleepy blink of your eyes ㅡ and determines that even though it's still a gamble, you won't be telling anyone what you just witnessed. "Good as new."

"Thanks, doc." Your speech is slurred, and he wonders if he did take too much. But you're steadier than he expects when he helps you to your feet, letting him guide you back through the doors to where Sanji is waiting.

"All patched up," he reports, "just let us know if you notice anything out of the ordinary. Fever in the localized area or full body temperature, increased pain or if it starts weeping."

"Thanks," Sanji answers, handing him the clipboard in exchange for you, and Law watches the two of you leave, listening for the sound of car doors and the purr of the engine.

It's only once you're gone that what he's done fully hits him, guilt in the place of hunger. What was he thinking? Had he been thinking at all?

"How are you feeling?" Sanji's question makes you roll away from where you've been counting streetlamps, prompting you to sit up.

Clearly not. He hisses a low curse, reaching into his pocket for his phone. He needs to call Corazon, see if they need to run damage control.

ㅡ

"Like crap," you tell him flatly, "next time Zoro suggests something like this, how about he does it."

"You didn't have to cut so deep."

You pinch the bridge of your nose. "Hush," you say, and he waits for you to continue. "Intel was right, though. Definitely a vampire."

Sanji rolls down the window, exhaling a cloud of smoke from the cigarette he'd finally lit while waiting for you. "Think he suspected anything?"

You reach for the neat bandaging of your arm. Unraveling it to expose smooth, unbroken skin, you're momentarily grateful that the thin, looping scars are spiderweb thin and invisible to anyone not trained to look for them. "No," you answer, studying where the laceration had been, "I don't think he did."

#ㅡmine.#one piece x reader #one piece scenario #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #–ml: law.#it wouldn't leave me be til I wrote it so enjoy!

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