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#Hate how searches include the whole post and not just the damn tags
zoekrystall · 7 months
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Added more in my pinned post and accidentally talked too much in the tags to hit the limit whoops. Added that txt yesterday bc I saw people primarily (some only) sharing donation links. Can you tell when I wrote stuff was I just ever so slightly irritated by all the emotions talk. Which yknow I get feeling angry and whatnot but I am specifically talking abt the stuff w "how can you not feel _". Idk if I already talked abt it or deleted it before hitting post some other time I think I did. Also was irritated by all the people yelling at people for being triggered like if you don't know the difference between discomfort and triggered do I not want you near me. That difference is very significant.
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Idk man I am just tired of people equating empathy w humanity the most. I'm really glad I hardened up more bc I just think abt 2020 where I think I got first truly radicalized or/and learned a fuck ton but also all that guilt tripping and all made the already bad mental health further nosedive and that is just not sustainable neither for the cause or us. Like yes sharing and all actions that do help are important but it's also important to step away and do anything else to not burn out in like a day or two. Luckily the people that get followed got shaken up a bit and dash and rbs get focused more on positivity in general since then and that def helped long term (was gen "would _ rb that" "would _ scold if I would rb that" until it became a no brainer when my lifeline wasn't there. not the time to gush but fuck do I think I would still be in the same mud without him). Still not the best but better than then so sharing is easier on the mental health.
I feel. So weird for not being able to feel empathy for others but def feel it when others irritate me. Yeah I feel bad when I don't feel anything but what does it bring to force myself to feel something. I already knew in 2020 that the trying to force myself was empty I only felt like I have to try to feel awful bc of all the guilt tripping. It's hard to explain how it feels I think it's such a strange feeling. Anyways I'm at least aware enough to know if I get irritated around this I shouldn't constantly be vocal abt it bc it really does not matter in the grand scheme of things this is the only post and if further will I just on private bc no-one needs to see that but sometimes venting is needed.
I'm only really talking abt that bc reg the trigger stuff like ffs people still need to be able to function and there are things to do without getting triggered if the heavy topics are what do it. Also the people that want to help through sharing those can look at that if they know what they'll see and can get prepared first. I got ptsd doesn't mean I never ever look at any triggering stuff ever again I just need to be in the headspace and a heads up would always be very good. Really wish twt would do it like here w not completely not showing the tweet (minus in replies where you can click to show) if it has smth muted but saying "yo this post got this muted thing ya wanna see it". Like. People getting triggered are absolutely not the same people bitching bc they're just uncomfortable. The latter are the bad ones I do agree but know the fucking difference. Feeling uncomfortable just living happens like daily for the most standard reason so feeling that abt a horrendous situation should be a given. You however shouldn't get triggered daily. Also yes we can admire the people there but not everyone is as strong you shouldn't guilt them into dealing w more than they can. I'm gen (starting to consider, already did a few though) immediately blocking everyone posting that stuff esp the aggressive ones. I do not care if you have x or y not everyone experiences things the exact same way. I am being so good abt holding back insults.
And reg the emotions thing like people learn not everyone feels empathy and that it doesn't make people anything bad and that actions count challenge. Not everyone w aspd for example is automatically a evil person. What matters is if they talk abt things and if they genuinely stand behind them. Idk if I speak for most or if just past self but writing in all caps "how can you not feel bad/sad/angry/etc at seeing [atrocity, usually as video attached]" will make people not magically care if they didn't prior it'll just irritate them and scroll away. Factual information is what can make people turn around more (like, literally just share without that commentary for example). So many "both sides bad" focus on emotions afaik. Compassion, empathy, etc for both. There are people that see and feel bad abt what happens to them but still say both sides bad.
I'm tired I'll likely sleep now but yeah I just. Wanted to write abt it and get it out ig. Rb disabled and I won't bad faith argument idc if any of this sounded privileged to you. I can prob write all this way more eloquent but man idc this isn't a post that is supposed to spread and I wrote this while being sleepy. I also think there is, for individual people that aren't big names, some nuance reg having to talk abt something and being allowed to not engage in every important topic but 1 that is too complex to just kinda ramble about 2 this current event is less nuanced reg that I def think try to share as much as you can even if just occasionally. I think I only don't like it bc not saying anything online doesn't equal not doing anything. Someone could go to every protest they can and write and call but just not using their socials bc that takes their energy enough or smth. And some have multiple accs and only focus spreading it on their main (and/or w the biggest following, which should be used). I think that is what specifically gets me. But yeah didn't think abt it enough to form enough abt it and also maybe talking more abt it when this is over bc how I said it is less complicated rn. And. Yknow. When I am not tired as hell.
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takerfoxx · 3 years
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What Your Favorite Puella Magi Madoka Magica Ship Says About You
Inspired by DoubleCa5t's series, and since we're probably going to get an official video sooner or later, I'm putting my version out while I can.
Also, this is all in good fun, so don't take any teasing seriously.
...
MadoHomu (Madoka X Homura)
You are a firm believe in the inherent eroticism of this image.
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You have episode ten memorized.
You have a very specific emotional reaction to “Time After Time” by Cyndi Lauper.
You have severe problems with The Rebellion Story, particularly in how it upended the optimistic note that the original series ended on and recontextualized Homura’s devotion to Madoka as something unhealthy and even toxic, but you still can’t bring yourself to reject the movie entirely, because at the end of the day, even you have to admit that damn, that dress.
The phrase, “X character did nothing wrong” pops up a lot in your internet discourse.
You ship CatraDora.
KyouSaya (Kyouko X Sayaka)
You’re always a sucker for how the dynamic of Enemies to Lovers shifts from antagonism to devotion without losing its obsessive intensity.
Your ideal date can best be summed up as Be Gay, Do Crimes…after which you have to call your responsible friend to come bail both of you out.
You know that important stuff happens after episode nine, but to be quite frank, at that point you were too emotionally traumatized to get invested and were only watching out of a feeling of obligation.
You were uncharacteristically smug after watching The Rebellion Story despite what disproportionately little screentime your ship received.
You also ship CatraDora.
MadoSaya (Madoka X Sayaka)
You don’t understand what all the fuss is about when it comes to Enemies to Lovers when there’s a perfectly good Friends to Lovers right there.
This is the same joke as the first part of MadoHomu, but with the Hot Topic switched out for a Footlocker.
You lost your mind on 4chan over Persephone’s Waltz on more than one occasion and for more than one reason (hey, ErinPtah!).
KyouMami (Kyouko X Mami)
You read A Different Story, and probably listened to that one audio drama.
You’re a firm believer in the inherent eroticism of exes that still long for one another.
You feel that a lot of the issues that both these characters struggle with stem from how messy their falling out was, and had Mami been more supportive and Kyouko not abandoned her after the death of Kyouko’s family, a whole lot of grief could have been avoided.
MamiSaya (Mami X Sayaka)
Your ideal date is getting sempai to notice you.
You have gotten into at least one altercation with Anticrack-Kun.
MadoMami (Madoka X Mami)
Your ideal date is getting kouhai to notice you.
You’re just here for some girls being friends, gals being pals.
MamiNagi (Mami X Nagisa)
You were already shipping Mami with the human form of Charlotte before The Rebellion Story came out, and even afterward you’re still unwilling to let go despite how uncomfortable it makes you now, to the point where “Aged Up Characters” is a regular tag in your ao3 searches.
Either that, or…
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HomuMami (Homura X Mami)
You’re a firm believer in the inherent eroticism of passive-aggressiveness.
You were tilting your head in a particular manner during that scene where Mami ties up Homura, and feel that how it ended was a real missed opportunity.
You had to pause The Rebellion Story for about five minutes after the gunfight, and after you continued you shouted, “Goddamn it, Sayaka!” out loud.
HomuSaya (Homura X Sayaka)
This is the same joke as the first part of MadoHomu, but with the Sanrio switched out for a Footlocker.
Your favorite ao3 tag is “Hatesex.”
KyouHomu (Kyouko X Homura)
You know what's better than one edgy badass girl with a tragic past? Two edgy badass girls with a tragic past.
You felt that both these characters spent too much energy pursuing someone that just weren't into them as they were, and would better off settling with someone on more equal footing.
You are a firm believer in the inherent eroticism of game recognizing game.
You really wish that they reached that ramen shop in the movie.
KyouMado (Kyouko X Madoka)
Your favorite highschool relationship dynamic is edgy delinquent/ray of sunshine.
You are a firm believer in the inherent eroticism of “gap moe.”
HitoSuke (Hitomi X Kyousuke)
You feel that these two characters get way too much hate, and everything that happened wasn’t their fault. Like, come on, guys. How could they have known that their teenaged relationship drama would be exploited by a race of emotionless alien groomers?
Your main priority is keeping things canon…and you don’t have a whole lot else to work with.
HitoSaya (Hitomi X Sayaka)
You feel that the most effective way of resolving a love triangle is eliminating the heterosexual options.
You feel that when Hitomi declared, “Girls can’t love girls!”, Sayaka’s reaction ought to have been, “Challenged accepted.”
SayaSuke (Sayaka X Kyousuke)
You just want good things for Sayaka, but only in a first four episodes kind of way.
You are heterosexual.
SayaHitoSuke (Sayaka X Hitomi X Kyousuke)
You feel that the best way of resolving a love triangle is by connecting the bottom two axis.
You are heterosexual. Or possibly bisexual. Well, regardless, you are really horny.
HomuHito (Homura X Hitomi)
You’ve played the portable game.
MadoHito (Madoka X Hitomi)
You are constantly frustrated at how little attention this ship receives. After all, weren’t they friends too? But instead people seem to be more focused on shipping characters that don’t even like each other or never even interact in the show, and at this point you’re just glad that I acknowledged it in this silly meme post.
MamiHito (Mami X Hitomi)
You want to be a wealthy, unmarried Victorian duchess who is noted by history for your incredibly close relationship with your lovely companion who lives with you, does everything with you, up to and including sharing a bed, and after both of your deaths scholars will make note of what great friends you must have been.
KyouHito (Kyouko X Hitomi)
You were going out of your way to piss off Anticrack-kun. And really, who wouldn’t?
KyouSuke (Kyouko X Kyousuke)
You were going out of your way to piss off everybody, and I salute your courage.
HomuJun (Homura X Junko)
You are really into Pixar moms.
Also, obligatory…
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KazuJun (Kazuko X Junko)
This is the same joke as the second part of MadoMami, but you’re also really into Pixar moms.
MadoKyu (Madoka X Kyubey)
I can’t say for certain whether or not you’re a monsterfucker, but you certainly enjoy the chaos that the very implication of this ship creates.
PolyMegucas (Madoka X Sayaka X Homura X Kyouko X Mami)
You don’t understand why there has to be so much drama between all these different pairings. All the girls are wonderful in their own ways, and they would be so much happier if they just stopped fighting, formed a loving and mutually supportive team dynamic as was seen in the first part of the movie, and possibly smooched one another.
Also, you are extremely horny.
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fiblertsos · 3 years
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About IZ’s fandom policies, and why they are like this
Ok, since I’ve seen people taking screenshots of my tweets on this subject, I thought it’d be better for me to just make a Tumblr post.
I’m sorry for not putting this under a readmore, but I want people who visit the tag to read it all.
tl;dr: No, IZ isn’t LGBTQIA+phobic, nor do they hate your hcs and AUs. It’s just literally how JP fandom works.
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JP fandom etiquette functions as thus: the main tag is ONLY for content that complies with canon. This is done so anyone who searches for it has accurate information and the right “image” of the fandom they’re looking at.
“Image”, in this context, is not “oh I want new people to think this series is good and not icky like the icky fanart those fans make”. The “image” is, quite literally, a reflection what you see in official media. JP authors, while ok with headcanons, want people who get into the main tag to get what their series is about from the getgo, without confusion.
This is why shipping, “hard” headcanon content and AUs go into separate tags on Twitter: # whnoc (WH non-official content) and # whnos (WH non-official shipping)
What got IZ splitting hairs was not the headcanons themselves, but people using official art and the main tag to claim characters have canon sexualities when they do not. 
In JP fandom, the notion of “fantasy” is prevalent: fill in the gaps left by canon, and project anything you want in there. Characters having ambiguous sexualities and identities is something authors do on purpose, in order for a fan’s “fantasy” to take control in fandom.
What we see when someone edits official art to include a sexuality/identity flag and going “X is gay now! It’s canon!” is a fan acting on “fantasy”; semi-ironically declaring a character’s sexuality to express their love for the idea.
What a person engaged in JP fandom sees when someone does that is someone willingly breaking the ambiguity the creator put there on purpose just to selfishly declare their headcanon as truth, denying everything else. The main tags are for canon information, so if something like this is there, it’s seen as a declaration of canon truth.
Same with AUs! What a JP person thinks when they see an unspecified AU in the main tag, they go “oh that must happen in canon at some point”. It causes confusion due to the different views on tag etiquette, and that’s something IZ wants to avoid. 
(JP fandom has certain keywords to help them identify AUs, but we don’t have that system.)
About art edits, well. As an artist myself, not editing someone’s art should be pretty damn obvious. Not only do edits in the canon tag cause confusion, but it’s also the defacing of someone else’s art! 
About that, IZ has said cropping and resizing their art for video thumbnails, headers and such is ok, along with very light edits (like brightness or saturation, nothing that distorts the characters at all) that are positive towards the characters.
(Also, I know they don’t hate AUs and hcs because they’ve liked a bunch of them on Twitter, including when I made Wilardo and Ashe in FFXIV. If they’re fine with my ugly ass FFXIV models they’re fine with anything.)
The rumors of IZ hating LGBT fancontent were born from an earlier declaration of theirs, where they said “any LGBT content is not official nor intentional”. People took that as meaning IZ was denouncing shipping and sexuality headcanons as bad, but it was just them trying to reiterate the point about authors leaving sexualities vague. If I recall correctly, this was shortly after the whole siri/claire debacle, so people already wanted to pick a fight with them. A lot of the people who spread this rumor had blocked both Aster and myself, the two people who translate IZ’s tweets into English: so they had no source of translation except machine translators, which predictably enough did not do their job very well.
In summation: This is all a misunderstanding, JP fandom etiquette is literally just like that, and IZ just wants canon compliance in the main Twitter tag. You’re free to post hcs and AUs in another tag, and IZ even encourages it.
Edits are banned though.
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toutallyahoe · 3 years
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Everybody Talks ~ Iwaizumi Hajime (Haikyuu) pt 1
requested by: --
a/n: i forgot to post this here, lmao whoops
but anyways, had to split this because tumblr cant support 7000+ words asdfghjkll
this is my longest one shot so far, please enjoy it. em begging thee
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part one | part two | part three
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"Hey baby won't you look my way?
I can be your new addiction,"
There it goes again, the annoying song that he was already very familiarized with as it was the very same song that his soulmate had been listening non-stop for the past few days. Iwaizumi Hajime doesn't know if his soulmate had a different time zone than his (thirteen hours difference to be exact) or just a psychopath listening to the loud song for the whole night that the dark haired male could barely sleep. And it had been almost a week already!
"Hey baby what you gotta say?
All you're giving me is fiction,"
Hajime doesn't even understood the song that much despite it's catchy tune. It was in, on what he assumed, was english. Yes, it was very catchy song at first as the beat was very enjoyable and the singer had a nice voice— but listening to the song for almost one week straight? It can drive anyone insane. And Iwaizumi Hajime had to deal with listening to the song over and over again in non-stop repeat because of his (probably) psychopath soulmate listen to it in full volume.
"I'm a sorry sucker and this happens all the time,"
The dark haired male was rather a bit thankful that the volume of the song he was hearing was a bit bearable as whatever song anyone's soulmate was listening too, it was projected to the other about only eighty percent the noise. Still, the song was loud and Hajime wonders if his soulmate would go deaf with how loud the song was playing on their end. Well, if they weren't going deaf already.
"I found out that everybody talks,
Everybody talks, everybody talks,
It started with a whisper!"
Sighing, Hajime stared at the ceiling of his room, a small frown on his lips. God, his soulmate was lowkey an asshole for making him listen to the same song over and over again for the past few days. If he ever finds his soulmate, the dark haired male was sure to beat them up— or at least, be angry at them for making him listen to a song that he could barely sleep.
"And that was when I kissed her!
And then she made my lips hurt!"
Looking at the alarm clock on top of his nightstand beside his bed, the dark haired male let out another annoyed grunt as he saw the time. It was already midnight and he still had school to attend to tomorrow. Not to mention volleyball practice early in the morning aswell.
God, for a moment, Hajime hated the soulmate bond so, so much.
"I could hear the chit chat!
Take me to your love shack!"
But Iwaizumi Hajime also remembered that his soulmate rather had a nice taste in music that even made him listen to his soulmates favorite bands— or at least he assumes they were their favorite bands.
Hajime was stuck with the soulmate bond that let's him hear the song what his soulmate was listening too, and it reminded the dark haired male that his soulmate was somehow sharing a part of themselves to him.
"Mamas always gotta back track!
When everybody talks back!"
Sighing again, Hajime wished he would just smack his soulmate right now.
  
"Hey honey you could be my drug?
You could be my new prescription,"
Hajime let out an annoyed grunt as he just finished serving and stood outside the court. It was unfortunately out of bounds as he put too much pressure on hitting the ball, but Hajime could barely care about it right now.
"Too much could be an overdose!
All this trash talk make me itchin'!"
Jesus fucking Christ, it was practically by the end of the day, but his soulmate was still listening to the song? The dark haired male now fully believed his soulmate was a psychopath. Period.
"Oh my, my,
Everybody talks, everybody talks,
Everybody talks, too much..."
"Woah, losing your edge there ace!" Hajime turned his head to whoever had said those words and saw it was a fellow third year and (unfortunately) friend of his, Hanamaki Takahiro. The light brown (pink-ish?) haired male had an eyebrow raised towards him but an amused smirk on his lips with his arms crossed over his chest.
"You okay there? Or are you getting old already?" Takahiro snickered as Hajime rolled his eyes at the wing spiker. The light brown (salmon???) haired player was always a bit of a tease along with another third year, Matsukawa Issei. Speaking of the middle blocker, it seemed like the black haired middle blocker also decided to come and join on annoying the dark haired ace.
"You've been also more annoyed than usual," Issei pointed out as he stood next to his light brown (pastel pink???) haired friend with his arms crossed on his chest aswell. "Love the eye bags, by the way," Issei continued as he grinned while Takahiro snickered more at his comment.
"Oh, shut up," Hajime had grunted as he rubbed the temple on his head. The dark haired ace was already tired from the lack of sleep and practicing volleyball even if he do love the sport. He can't deal with his teams bullshit right now.
"Iwa-chan can't sleep because of his soulmate!" Yelled the volleyball captain of the males volleyball club of Aoba Johsai, Oikawa Tōru, who was unfortunately the dark haired male's best friend since childhood from across the court. How did he know what the three were talking about? No one would ever know other than knowing the captain enjoyed gossip and doesn't care if he even gets caught listening to conversations that doesn't include him. Oikawa Tōru had no shame.
Sighing again, Hajime was so fucking done. Of course the chocolate brown haired male would know about his soulmate problem even if he doesn't say anything about it. For some odd reason, Tōru had a sixth sense with him and his soulmate. How annoying.
"Because of your soulmate...?" Takahiro asked, confused. The confusion on his face was immediately then replaced with an amused look as a shit eating grin was replaced the smirk on his lips. Hajime already felt the headache coming.
"That's pretty kinky, not gonna lie," Takahiro said with no shame whatsoever. Obviously his imaginations running wild from the chocolate brown haired male's shout about Hajime and his soulmate. Issei could only chuckle at his friend's words as they both look at the dark haired ace who was slowly losing his sanity and patience.
"But seriously, Iwaizumi. What's the deal with your soulmate?" Issei asked. Finally something Hajime could actually answer and not be teased by the assholes that he calls his teammates and friends. Unfortunately.
"The dumbass hasn't stopped listening to this one song for almost a week now," Hajime grunted as he could still hear the said song in his mind.
"It started with a whisper!
And that was when I kissed her!
And then she made my lips hurt!"
"Really?" Takahiro said, a bit surprised that a measly song would annoy the dark haired ace. Sure, Iwaizumi Hajime was a bit of a hot headed person but he was a hot headed person who can control his temper— unless it's with Oikawa Tōru, then Hajime would not hesitate to beat the shit outta the chocolate haired captain.
"What's so bad with the song?" And it seemed like the black haired middle blocker agreed aswell as Issei asked that question. The taller male didn't know if he should congratulate their ace's soulmate for making the dark haired male so annoyed and irritated for the past few days or feel bad for Hajime.
"The song isn't the problem," Hajime huffed as he saw both Takahiro and Issei look at him with raised brows. Clearly wanting him to elaborate more since they were confused. Sighing, the dark haired male decided to just come out with it. "They just have been playing the song non-stop and it's driving me insane."
"I could hear the chit chat!
Take me to your love shack!"
"What's the song?" The light brown (peach?!?) haired male had asked. Curious on what Hajime's soulmate was listening to. Can you blame him though? Their ace seemed to be a bit secretive with his soulmate, even if they had been teammates and friends for years. Iwaizumi Hajime didn't seemed to like talking about his soulmate, either it be him not liking them or just likes his privacy. It was probably the latter but who knows?
Sighing again, Hajime gestured the two to follow him to the changing room. The practice was almost over anyways and both Takahiro and Issei had finished their serves earlier ago aswell. The dark haired ace was going to let the two third years hear the song he had been listening to for the past few days with his phone. Hajime, after all, downloaded the song his soulmate had been listening to non-stop.
  
"Mamas always gotta back track!
When everybody talks back!"
Arriving at the changing room with the two males tagging along, Hajime wasted no time going to his assigned locker and opened it up. Taking out his phone and unlocking it, Hajime immediately then went to his music app and searched the song his soulmate had forced him to listen to for almost a week.
"Never thought I'd live to see the day,
When everybody's words got in the way!"
Finding the song, the dark haired ace turned to both his friend and gave them a blank expression as he hit play on the song.
The familiar intro of the song played loud on the device's speaker and it didn't take long for the singer started singing the song that Hajime was song he could sing along perfectly from how much he had heard the song already. The dark haired male had practically memorized the lyrics of the song already and he wasn't even kidding.
"Woah," Issei whistled as he look at the song that was playing in Hajime's phone more closely. "Damn ace, you're soulmate has taste!" The black haired male said. Rather surprised and impressed to the song Hajime's soulmate taste in music.
"It's in english too," Takahiro pointed out. He then turned to look at Issei who looked at him aswell. The two seemed to be communicating without even saying anything, but seeing the furrowed eyebrows and small frown on their lips, Hajime knew what they were thinking.
"Your soulmate is probably in a foreign country..." Takahiro said as he looked back at the dark haired ace. A bit worried but the wing spiker seemed to force a grin on his lips. "That's so cool!"
"Yeah, you're pretty lucky to get a foreign soulmate ace," Issei said. "Imagine getting help with english!" The black haired male chuckled. The two friends continued on listing the positives of having a soulmate who can talk in english and joking about it.
The dark haired ace didn't seemed to listen to the two though.
Hajime knew that there was a huge possibility that his soulmate was in another country than where he was. Soulmates were rarely even in the same cities most of the time, so Hajime fully knows about him maybe not meeting his soulmate. Still, it still hurts to think that his soulmate was far away from him and probably would not meet.
Iwaizumi Hajime didn't considered himself as a hopeless romantic, but it had always been his dream to meet the other person who he had sharing music to since he was seven years old.
There were two reasons why Hajime hated sharing about his soulmates music taste. First was that it hurts to be reminded that Hajime would only hear the song his soulmate was listening to and most of the time those songs were in english and were too loud for his liking. Sure, his soulmate listened to some mellow song aswell like lo-fi and even taking note on songs he listened too aswell, but his soulmate seemed to enjoy the upbeat and loud ones a lot.
Second was that Hajime felt like the music he listened from his soulmate were sacred. It was a silly thing to think but for the dark haired ace, the music and songs his soulmate was listening too, it was only for him to listen to and only him alone.
God, perhaps Iwaizumi Hajime was a hopeless romantic. Or at least, a little bit of a hopeless romantic with how he thinks about some dumb songs his soulmate was listening too.
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veliseraptor · 3 years
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2020 Fanfiction Round-Up
I do one of these every year! And have since I think 2016. Can’t break a tradition even if it’s been a clusterfuck of a time and filling this out was in some ways an exercise in remembering the ways I have failed myself as a writer this year. 
But oh well!
Total Year-Long Wordcount: I’ll post the final final number tonight after I finish the writing I want to do this afternoon (and plan to do this afternoon), but it’s currently 451,803 words written this year. Guessing I’m going to land somewhere around 453,000ish. (AO3 claims a higher number than that but that’s because it is counting the entirety of fics where I posted chapters this year.
This year I wrote and posted: I wrote a fair number more than I posted (there are five fics finished but for various reasons unposted on my hard drive) but based on Tumblr I posted 78 posts in my fic tag, which, not including chapter specific updates and three sentence meme answers (but including at least two Tumblr-only longer fics), probably comes out to about 60 or so “full length” fics that saw the light of day in 2020.
Overall Thoughts
Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d predicted? 
Well, I wrote more than I did last year, which is sort of a surprise to me (all things considered) but also maybe not, because I was doing a lot less of most other things that could’ve been occupying my time, including two hours daily of commuting. 
But still less than I did in 2018. Which is fine.
What’s your own favorite story of the year? 
Lord, I don’t know. It depends on when you ask me. Lately I’ve been in a bit of a “I hate everything I’ve written ever” state of mind, so that makes it sort of hard to do any kind of...reasonable assessment. 
I know I’m proud of With Absolute Splendor but I have all these reservations about it and I can’t reread it for the most part because I always notice new things I wish I’d done differently. I feel pretty good about efforts in a common cause but something about it still makes me cringe, which I suspect has to do with my general self-consciousness. I have a hard time feeling unreservedly proud about...anything I wrote this year, really. 
I feel like the closest I get is maybe nor autumn falter which I am pretty pleased with and also which does hurt me a lot personally. Or I did end up overall pretty pleased with what came out of By Proxy.
But also the more I look at this question the more I start hating all my own work, so...guess this is kind of coming at a bad time.
Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?
I mean, I started writing in my first non-English fandom in many years, and specifically one where I was trying to engage more with the cultural background of the setting (in a way I wasn’t with, say, Death Note, when I was writing Death Note fic). So that was a risk. And I learned that it’s very stressful and there’s so many ways to make mistakes and I am, in many ways, a coward. But also I think I’ve learned a fair amount thanks to a lot of very patient people on the internet, so...there’s that.
Otherwise...I mean, I got ambitious with a few projects this year (the Big Bang fic and With Absolute Splendor stand out), but I’m not sure how much I really tried new things. 
I feel like I had to fight myself a little on writing straight up bad sex for By Proxy - I planned on it being hot, and it really wasn’t. It was mostly just miserable. Which made for a better fic, but was a new experience for me as far as ‘I thought I was going to write porn and that isn’t what I wrote.’
From my past year of writing, what was….
My most popular story of this year: 
By far, With Absolute Splendor. In fact, it has now become my second most kudosed fic of all time, behind only fuckin Life in Reverse. So like. That’s a thing.
(It is still less than half as many as Life in Reverse, but for context Life in Reverse has been around for going on eight years.)
Most fun story to write: 
Most fics where I feel like “I’m having so much fun writing this!” also go through a “oh god I hate this it’s terrible” phase which makes this sort of hard to assess. But I did have overall a lot of fun writing Mutual Friends despite all my frustration with the canon-wrangling I had to do to make it work in my head. 
But also I feel like both Retributive Justice and Embedded were in different ways deeply iddy fics that were just fun to write. That actually goes for a lot of the Whumptober fics. That was a very self-indulgent month. Excited to do it again in February (hopefully, if I can write things in a timely manner at all).
Story with the single sexiest moment: 
I feel like the beauty of your repair might be my personal favorite smut I posted this year, but I think my personal favorite that I wrote is in the big bang fic nobody will see until January. 
I feel like most of the sexiest moments I’ve written this year are in the porn fics I’m going to start posting in January also. But just generally I feel like the beauty of your repair is the sexiest thing I wrote and posted.
Most “Holy crap, that’s wrong, even for you” story: 
I mean, I Come With Knives is definitely up there. It’s not that wrong or anything, but it got pretty intense in some ways I wasn’t expecting. Mostly in how much blood got involved, which was actually more than I’d had it involved in a sex thing before! Kind of surprises me that I haven’t previously done more with bloodplay stuff but. Well. First time for everything!
I don’t think this was a year that really had any “wow, what the fuck, Lise” things in it. Nothing on the level of last year’s winner. I’m almost disappointed in myself.
Abattoir was definitely the story that generated the weirdest conversation and creepiest search questions, though, so it does get points for that. 
Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters: 
I feel like the writing of everyone else is spring bound was a lot of...me thinking through my Jiang Cheng feelings and specifically my Jiang Cheng post-canon feelings. 
the martyr, the victim was pretty formative in shaping how I think about both Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji and their relationship with each other. It was the first fic I wrote that really dug into them in any way, I think, and definitely one that informed how I thought about writing Lan Xichen later.
Hardest story to write: 
I was thinking it was the one that I haven’t posted yet but I did technically finish, aka my Big Bang fic, the terrible threesome fic, the massive “I’m gonna keep everyone in the Yi City arc alive” AU that I started shortly after finishing The Untamed and finished in December. So I spent most of the year writing it.
But then I was like - no, I’m going to have to go with we live until we die even though it’s technically been ‘in progress’ for five years and really kicked into gear in 2019 and I just finished it and posted it this year, because that fic was like. The culmination of a big arc in an enormous verse dealing with a whole lot of balls in the air and trying to tie up a whole lot of threads. It was ambitious and the stakes were high and it was full of plot and action which are not two of my strengths...frankly I’m still amazed I pulled the damn thing off.
Biggest Disappointment: 
I think it is better if I refrain from going too in depth on this because it would just end up as me listing a bunch of my perceived failings. But I think off the top of my head I’m frustrated by the fact that I still haven’t really managed to write a XueXiao smut fic that quite hits the spot for me, myself. I’ve written two and for various reasons I don’t really like either of them. 
Biggest Surprise: 
The fact that my Jiang Cheng fic took off the way it did. Legitimately did not see that coming! At all! I mean, I’m delighted by it but it wasn’t what I saw happening as far as “niche I’d find in this fandom” or “thing I’d write that people would really enjoy reading.”
Particularly with By Proxy. That fic got a lot more attention than I would’ve expected. 
Most Unintentionally Telling Story: 
I feel like every fic I write with Xue Yang in it tells you something about me and most of those things are things that make me, on some level, deeply self-conscious, but I try not to think about that too much.  
I feel like the most telling story is maybe we all drift sometimes because I literally wrote it out of a depressive episode about a bad brain day but that wasn’t unintentional.
Favorite Opening Line(s):
1. So it turned out that if you touched the tendons of a dead person’s wrist and channeled a little bit of spiritual energy just right, it made the fingers twitch and curl like they were still alive. (Abattoir)
2. Here’s the thing: your Daozhang is glorious when he kills. (tear out all your tenderness)
3. Turned out that a sect leader’s head came off like anyone else’s. (Unnatural Selection)
4. The first hint that anything had gone awry was the letter from Lan Wangji (His Excellency Hanguang-jun, pardon me) that simply said have you heard from Wei Ying? (some good mistakes)
5. What Jiang Cheng wanted to do, more than anything, was to go home and take a nap. (everyone else is spring bound)
Favorite Line(s) from Anywhere:
I usually keep this to 10 but because I’ve been in such a :| place about my own writing I indulged myself this once.
1. Sometimes it felt like all he had done since descending the mountain was shatter his own dreams and accumulate regrets. (nor autumn falter)
**
2. It felt like she was holding all the components of a bomb in her hands, half assembled. If she moved the right way they would stay just that: components. But if she moved the wrong way… (til my judgment day)
**
3. He should have killed him. Should have been the one to strike that blow, in revenge for Jin Zixuan and their sister and everyone else dead for Wei Wuxian’s pride. Maybe then there would not be this gnawing, aching thing embedded in his chest; this itching, unfinished feeling. Maybe then he would not feel torn in two, sometimes like he should have reached out with his other hand and sometimes like he should have struck truer and sometimes both, in the same moment. (Interstitial)
**
4. He owed Wei Wuxian more than he could ever give back in this lifetime. Forgiving him felt like betraying his sister’s memory. Not forgiving him felt like trying to walk with a thorn in his foot. He was just - stuck, caught like a demon in a spiritual net.
Jiang Cheng thought of the way Wei Wuxian looked at Lan Wangji, with warmth and trust and love, and the aching, sick jealousy he had no right to feel returned. He felt a little like a child watching someone pick up a toy he’d abandoned and suddenly realizing that he wanted it back. (everyone else is spring bound)
**
5. You close your eyes and think about how he looked back in that town, Shuanghua slicing clean through a man’s neck, opening it to the spine, and think dizzily that he could open you like that and it’d be good, as long as it lasted. (tear out all your tenderness)
**
6. When Wangji loved, he loved with his whole being, without reserve. And now he had been placed between the rock of his convictions and the hard place of his devotion to Wei Wuxian. (the martyr, the victim)
**
7. He spent a week turning the idea over in his head. Studying it like a corpse he was going to dissect, poking at it, cutting it open and examining its insides. (dead reckoning)
**
8. When the world hurt you, that was the only thing to do, after all. Hurt it back, harder, worse. Spill rivers of blood for every drop it squeezed from you.
And when the end came, never go quietly. (the blood in your mouth)
**
9. I would stand with you through the end of the world, said Loki’s voice in his head, and Steve’s heart wasn’t in his chest anymore, was somewhere off on another planet where Loki was lying dead in a ruined city. (we live until we die)
**
10. Was it always going to be like this? Stumbling into traps, tripping over familiar skeletons, slicing himself open on the edges of old hurts. Was there really such a thing as leaving the past behind? He still felt stuck in it, unable to move, and every time he thought he might be finally dragging himself free something pulled him back. (With Absolute Splendor)
**
11. His chest was full of poison. His throat was full of grief. And he was still a little drunk.
Jiang Cheng went to his room, sat down on his bed, put his face in his hands, and cried until he couldn’t breathe. (By Proxy)
Top 5 Scenes from Anywhere You Would Choose to Have Illustrated:
I think the scene from nor autumn falter of Xiao Xingchen just crying his heart out over Xue Yang’s dead body would be up there.
The Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian hug from the end of With Absolute Splendor.
Okay, just gonna say it: Xue Yang and Jin Guangyao having sex by the table with Nie Mingjue’s headless corpse on it. So sue me.
The scene in the blood in your mouth where Song Lan has stabbed Xue Yang and Xiao Xingchen is following the line of Fuxue to the latter. I have a very clear visual of it in my head and if I could art I’d art it.
Xue Yang with the hallucinatory Xiao Xingchen from liberate spirits, liberate souls.
Fic-writing goals for 2021:
Finish Walking Far From Home.
Maybe I’ll finish some of these MCU WIPs? I’d kind of like to, on an abstract level if nothing else.
Become a more well-adjusted human being about the relationship between my productivity and my self-worth.
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slipper007 · 3 years
Text
WIP: Sing Me To Sleep
Word Count: 2,485 (of 15000+ so far)
Tags: Destiel, Fix-It Fic, Grief and Mourning, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Canon-Typical Alcoholism, Ignores S15E20 Carry On, more to be added when I post the full piece
Notes: a little addition to celebrate hitting 15k words. Read the begining here. Once it's done, I'll post the whole fic here and on my AO3
As soon as they got back to the Bunker, Dean started making a home for Miracle. He gathered some spare blankets before having an epiphany: she could just sleep with him. She would love the bed, and he would love having her there with him.
It was just his luck the Men of Letters, stuffy old guys that they’d been, had some food dishes perfect for Miracle. He had seen them months ago when he had been looking for an artifact and left them in storage without another thought. He headed over to get them now only to freeze in front of the doorway.
The door to Room 7B was heavy and even standing in front of it took a toll. Mouth dry, Dean managed to put his hand on the knob but couldn’t find it in himself to open the door. He knew what waited on the other side for him, and he didn’t want to see it. The empty space, the sheer nothingness—not even goo or a coat this time—was too much.
He could get the dishes later. Better yet, he could buy new ones. Miracle would love that, wouldn’t she? She deserved nice new dishes to eat from. And while he was out, he could get her food and toys as well.
Dean went back to his room to start making space for Miracle’s things only to see himself in his mirror and freeze. There was a handprint on his shoulder, marked in blood. Slowly, Dean slotted his hand over the mark, aligning the fingers with his own.
Cas.
Dean turned away and bit his lip, hard. Tasting blood, he took his utility jacket off and folded it neatly before putting it in a drawer out of sight. He was too sober for this.
He wandered out into the library, looking for Miracle and pointedly ignoring everything else when he stopped. SW. DW. MW. His family, immortalized in the wood of the table. His fingers traced his mother’s initials absently in thought. Family didn’t end in blood, and the Bunker had been a home to far more than just the Winchesters. They deserved to have their legacy remembered, too.
Dean pulled out his pocketknife, the same one Castiel had used, back in the dungeon. Slowly, carefully, he dug it into the wood and painstakingly added two names: Jack and Castiel. They always should have been there. They should have known that they belonged. It was Dean’s fault for not including them enough, not helping them to feel seen. Maybe if he had, they wouldn’t have left. With a heavy heart, Dean remembered standing in this same library, shouting that Jack wasn’t family. He remembered nearly killing him and blaming him for things beyond his control. Just as bad was the memory of Castiel at this same table, sitting and eating a burrito and being content, happy even, just before Dean had kicked him out. That wasn’t even the worst, was it? No, he had done so much worse to Castiel, even just in the library.
What about beating him to a bloody pulp and leaving him broken on the floor? Mark or no Mark, he had done that. Even if it had taken him everything not to give in to the Mark and kill him. The Collette to his Cain, only asking him to stop. What about only a few months ago?
Something went wrong. You know this. Something always goes wrong.
Yeah, why does that something always seem to be you?
Dean felt sick just thinking about it. He could vividly remember the hurt on Cas’ face and the shock that Dean had said that. It was one of his biggest fears, being a useless screw-up, only around until he was no longer useful. Dean had known that and still said it. What kind of a person did that make him? And more than that, what did that make Cas’ true happiness? How do you love someone like that, someone irredeemable? It couldn’t be love.
Castiel was wrong. He hadn’t done everything out of love. If he had, he never would have pushed Cas away.
To distract himself, Dean tore his eyes from the newly added names and caught himself thinking about adding more. Who else was family, who else had they neglected to include?
Sam came out from the hallway looking ready to have a heart to heart and Dean couldn’t take it.
“You want a beer?” Without waiting for an answer, Dean stood. “I’m gonna grab a beer.” Then he headed towards the kitchen.
“It's pretty quiet,” Sam said once Dean returned, taking the offered beer. Dean hummed in agreement.
There was a silence, so heavy that Dean almost didn’t break it. In a rough voice, he managed to say, “To everyone that we lost along the way.” He clinked his beer against Sam’s and took a swig, ending it abruptly. He needed something stronger. Vodka, maybe, or bourbon, though he wasn’t sure if they had either of those in the Bunker anymore. He had already gone through a fair amount after Cas was taken, and then even more when it was the whole world. Still, maybe he had missed a bottle somewhere. He was about to stand to search when Sam started to speak.
“You know…with Chuck not writing our story anymore, we get to write our own.” His voice lilted upwards, optimistic in a way that Dean hadn’t heard in months. “You know, just you and me going wherever the story takes us…. Just us.”
“Finally free,” Dean summed up. He thought about the last few months, his own obsession with freedom. Sam’s statement was right—it was just them. They hadn’t reached out to anyone else yet, too overwhelmed with the implications of Chuck being defeated. That didn’t change the fact that Castiel wasn’t there to share it with them. Or Jack for that matter. He had been shoehorned into the position of God, had never gotten to be a kid. Dean’s heart ached in sympathy. If anything, Jack was more trapped than ever.
Sam and Dean had gotten their freedom, but at one hell of a cost. Still, Sam looked so hopeful…. Dean could be content, or at least pretend to be, for Sam’s sake.
He clapped his little brother on the shoulder, forced a smile, and they went for a drive.
For a little while, he dared to hope that by flooring it on the open road, with music blasting from the radio, Dean might be able to escape his grief. They could go anywhere, do anything. He and Sam had earned the right to a fresh start after at least three apocalypses, but Dean didn’t know if that was what he wanted. How could he start over if his best friend was dead and their kid was gone? He might still have Sam, but what about the rest of his family? Didn’t they all deserve the chance to begin again?
There was no destination to their journey and even Dean didn’t know where they were going. All he knew was that they were going away. To distract himself from the road, he paid more attention to the music, only to balk at it. Running on Empty. He couldn’t help grimacing at that last word and turned the music off rather than changing the station.
Sam, for his part, was watching Dean, taking in and gauging his reaction. Well, what was the damn point of the drive if neither of them was enjoying it?
When they got back, Sam seemed just as disturbed as Dean felt. The world had fundamentally changed, and it was like it hadn’t. The world went on, every moment passed as though there wasn’t a throbbing ache in Dean’s chest. They had lost their son and best friend. They were alone all over again, just like those first few lonely years when they had been looking for John.
Dean hated it.
The Winchesters settled in their respective spaces—Dean in the kitchen and Sam in the library. The stash of alcohol in the kitchen was gone. Had he really drunk it all already? Dean sighed and took a beer from the fridge instead while he made dinner. He managed to find some solace in it, as he always did. It was nice to cook and bake, to wear a silly apron and ask people to “try this!” After years of living on the road and killing monsters, Dean was able to flip the script. He was able to use his hands, hands that had become accustomed to being covered in blood and gore and dirt, to do good in another way. He didn’t need to be violent anymore; he could care for his family, or what was left of it.
Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love.
Dean swallowed thickly as emotion rose within him, but managed to keep pushing it down, holding it back. He would deal with it later, once he was alone in his room and sure that Sam wouldn’t walk in. He finished cooking up the burgers and took a few steps over to where he had already laid out the plates and hamburger buns.
Four plates waited to be filled. Only Sam and Dean remained.
“Going out!” he shouted over his shoulder a few heartbeats later, running up the stairway and out the door before Sam could stop him.
He didn’t make it to the liquor store. His eyes were burning and his vision swimming only minutes after he left, and rapidly he found himself pulling off onto the side of the road. Everything was too much.
Castiel was gone. He was dead, after nearly a dozen years of it not sticking. Dean had thought that maybe grieving would get easier. After all, he had lost everyone: his mother, his father, his brother, Bobby, every friend they had ever had, and so many more. It hurt like hell, every single time, but eventually he could cope. He had lost Castiel before, five deaths and countless almosts before this one. Why did it hurt worse? Every single time, losing Castiel left him emptier and emptier.
Cas was… Cas was his best friend. A pillar in his life. Someone who he could count on. Someone who should have outlived him. But he was more than that, wasn’t he? Dean hadn’t gotten the chance to reply, had hardly gotten to process before Castiel was gone. Cas loved him, and Dean hadn’t—
Dean neither knew nor cared how long he sat there. His grief only grew deeper with each minute, especially with the sheer despair of realizing that Castiel’s true happiness was what had killed him. His happiness was coming out, speaking his truth, and now he was dead. Dean ran out of tears, but ugly, breathless sobs still racked his body when he found it in himself to pull back onto the road.
The sales clerk in the liquor store gave him a look as he checked out. Dean didn’t know if it was for the volume he was buying or how fucked he undoubtedly looked. Didn’t care, either. He held off for the drive back and started drinking in the garage. Then the library. When Sam found him on his way to his room, Dean was solidly drunk and sobbing again, too far gone to care about appearances anymore. He just wanted the pain of it all to be gone.
He fought to keep the bottle of bourbon but Sam managed to take it, along with the rest. Without something in his hands, they were restless. Dean ran them over his face and through his hair before they ended up clutching at Sam’s shirt as the weight of his grief pulled him down.
“They’re… they’re jus'… gone,” he mumbled into Sam’s shoulder. “Jack… ‘nd C— Cas…”
He felt his brother’s arms close tighter around him and somehow felt worse, like he didn’t deserve it.
“I…I k-killed ‘im, Sam. He tol’… me he l-loved me, ‘nd then he was…”
Sam helped him to his room and stayed with him until he fell asleep, listening and shushing him in equal regard. With his eyes bleary and full of unshed tears, Dean thought the silhouette of Sam in the extra chair looked almost like Castiel, and he took comfort in that for a few minutes.
When Dean woke up, his heart was racing and the distorted nightmare of black goo was rapidly fading. He turned to the empty chair in his room and then to the door before seeing Miracle. She had situated herself in between his legs and was whining loudly. If he had been a little less hungover, he probably would have found it terrifying, given the number of nightmares he’d had featuring whines and growls. The sound grated against his ears but she seemed to perk up seeing him awake. Decidedly less nightmare-ish. He carefully extracted himself from his bed and ran the cold tap water over his hands and wrists, letting it ground him before washing the sweat from his face and popping a pain-reliever. He looked rough, with bags under bloodshot eyes and stubble across his jaw and cheeks. He probably smelled as well, wearing yesterday’s clothes soiled by booze and sweat. It didn’t matter much; Dean had no intention of going anywhere and lacked the energy to get cleaned up.
Miracle whined loudly again and Dean allowed himself to get back into bed to lay with her until she was a little happier. He absentmindedly scratched Miracle’s head while waiting for the throbbing ache in his head and chest to dissipate. He settled for one of the two and, after a few hours, made his way out of his room.
Sam was on the phone in the library, but upon seeing his brother put an end to his conversation. Dean didn’t know what he expected: to be chastised, perhaps, or to be forced through a heart-to-heart. Worse, to have Sam look at him with pity without saying a damn thing. Instead, his brother wrapped him in a brief hug.
“How are you holding up?”
“’M fine.”
“Dean…”
“’M fine, Sam.” Dean kept his tone stiff as he pulled out a seat, unwilling to become the sobbing mess again in front of his brother. Maybe Sam understood that, as he changed the subject after a beat.
“Hey, I talked to Jody. She and the girls are okay, and she says Donna is, too.”
“That’s awesome,” Dean said, nodding.
“Yeah. She wanted to know if we wanted to catch dinner next week sometime.”
Dean froze for a second before shaking his head adamantly. “Maybe some other time.”
“What? Why?”
“Claire. Sam, I would have to tell her that Cas….”
Sam’s face filled with understanding and his own grief. “I’ll tell her we can’t make it.”
///
AN: I swear this is gonna end happily.
Tagging some people who might be interested in the update: (ask to be added or removed!)
@becky-srs @bizzlepotter @bonkybornes @casgirl @chaoticbisexualdean @evermorecastiel @ineffable-impala @lassoted @poohkeepsee @professorerudite @theangelwiththewormstache @thiscastielhasflown
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amwritesitall · 4 years
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Cordelia Goode Dating a Human Would Include
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Masterlist
anonymous said: Cordelia dating a plain ol’ human, maybe?
Anon I love how you worded this. It made me chuckle :) and I have many thoughts on this! I probably could make a whole other post with more hcs like there is so much here
Tagged: @make--your--life--spectacular​
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I like to forget Hank ever existed SO I’d like to think you met Cordelia before she was the Supreme and pre-Coven
You knew her when she was searching desperately to find other witches (but you didn’t know she was a witch at the time) as far as you knew they were just normal potential students
The two of you meet at a book store
Cordelia is carrying a huge stack of books and accidentally runs into you, dropping all the books
She apologizes profusely and leans down to pick up the books
You tell her it’s alright and help her
When your eyes meet Cordelia can’t help but blush
Once the both of you are standing back up straight, books safe in Cordelia’s arms, you introduce yourself
This exchange ultimately ends with you asking Cordelia if she would like to get coffee at a place near by
The two of you instantly hit it off
Cordelia tells you that she’s a headmistress at Miss Robichaux’s but leaves out the whole witch thing (not wanting to scare you off)
You pick her up from the Academy for dates
Madison is one of the only students there at the time and she picks on Cordelia about her going out on dates
“Cordy, your girlfriend is here!” “Don’t stay out past your curfew”
Cordelia always makes sure to give her a pointed look but you don’t miss the slight pink tint rising to her cheeks
Some nights staying over at the academy and having to sneak out early in the morning to avoid any of the girls seeing you leaving their headmistress’s room
You and Cordelia go out on many dates before she tells you about her being a witch
She tells you by taking you back to the green house and showing you a spell on the plants
At first you think it’s some kind of prank, but she performs a couple of more spells and you are absolutely in awe
She explains some of the magic world to you
Explaining to you that her Auntie Myrtle (that you had met a couple of times) was on what was called the Council and that her mother was the Supreme
“What’s a Supreme?” “If she’s your mother does that mean you’re the next Supreme?”
“No, honey, it doesn’t work like that”
You love to listen to her talk about anything magic related since it’s all so new and different to you
After over a year of dating, she asks if you want to move in with her
It takes another year or so before you propose to her
The girls all like you
How could they not? You made Cordelia happy and if Cordelia was happy that meant she was more lenient on them
Madison does continue to pick on you about more explicit things
Cordelia learns how to put a noise canceling charm on her room after you and her were a little too loud one night
Poor Nan has to hear some thoughts you and Cordelia have about each other that she really wishes she hadn’t
She also hears your humorous thoughts on what the hell was happening around you because magic was still quite confusing to you
Overall you get to know all the girls pretty well
Sometimes you help cook for them, but you’re not an official member of the staff
You just like helping out
A couple of times you catch the girls sneaking out but you pretend you didn’t see anything
This ultimately wins them over
You sometimes join them for morning gathering on days when you don’t have to go into work as early or on the weekends
Fiona doesn’t actually hate you, but she is skeptical
Cordelia is always super protective of you when it comes to magic things
She shields you from her mother for a while before you assure her that it’d be ok
This protectiveness over you intensifies during the events of Coven (and Apocalypse but we’re not there yet)
You finally win Fiona over when you show up within minutes to the hospital after Cordelia is attacked and never leave her side
It’s then when she really sees how much you care about her daughter
She still picks on you after this, but you know that she’s just doing it to be tough
You help Cordelia as much as you can when she comes home from the hospital
Making her tea, helping her get dressed, taking days off of work just so you can be with her
She has to make you go back to work, assuring you that she’ll be fine and that the girls are here if she needs anything
Cordelia has to explain to you what the Seven Wonders are and their importance
You are a nervous wreck when she performs descensum
As soon as she’s back, you are by her side, holding her close
Cordelia is of course fine, but she embraces you back because she knows how scared you were for her
“And you said I was wrong about you being the next Supreme”
As she runs the Coven as headmistress and Supreme, you help her in any way you can
Helping her destress from long, hard days and her doing the same for you
Once the school gets more students you have to be careful about locking the door to Cordelia’s room and her office when certain activities are happening
Her having to make sure the girls know that they should always knock before entering when a door is closed 
There have definitely been a few close calls
The two of you do eventually start a family together after she settles into her role as Supreme
You two have a daughter that ends up being a witch
The most precious gal ever
Cordelia tries to keep you as informed as she can about things going on in the Coven and always answers all of your questions
Cordelia’s protectiveness of you and your daughter intensifies during Apocalypse
She tells you about Langdon, but refuses to let you do anything that will put you in danger
Langdon learning about you and your daughter and trying to use you and her against Cordelia, but Cordelia performs the memory spell on you and your daughter like she did with Mallory, Coco, and Dinah to keep the two of you safe from him
The Apocalypse is reversed and your little family is reunited like nothing happened
Cuteness ensues
There is enough here that I could write a whole damn fic...?
-
You might like:  Cordelia Goode Dating a Younger Woman Would Include or  Dating Cordelia as a Teen Would Include
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staliasjeronica · 3 years
Text
Riverdale S5 Ep11 Thoughts *Spoilers*
thoughts under cut to keep tag from being cluttered :)
- Oh yeah I forgot that Chad was blackmailing Veronica about the dirty dealings in her company even though it’s not her at all (unless it’s just been so long and I’ve forgotten but she’s my baby and I feel like I would’ve remembered but-
- Hiram and this dumb prison is one of the worst things for this show it’s a constant plot of people escaping and it’s so annoying like sure Hiram owns it and he was in the jail but no one has, like, taken him back to jail…??? Hiram is a fucking disease smh
- “back to remote learning” why didn’t you just stay that way though… like even right now in covid schools are opening back up and kids are complaining because it’s still not safe so like… just… go back to it??? I’m so not built for this world fasdhfkahf
- Veronica and Smithers 🥺🥺💞💞
- the way Veronica hugs Archie is so cute bc she’s so tiny but like she always gives her all and Archie is just 😐 never giving anything ahjfsdfsh it’s quite sad you can tell how done KJ is with Varchie lol
- “I really hate that I’m dragging you through this.” … what about constantly pulling him into your mob boss father mess that the writers refuse to allow you to escape from?
- “until you and Chad are officially done, I think we should keep our distance.” Varchie bones!!! you just KNOW that Archie has been looking forward to this because that man is whole heartedly in love with Betty and has been since forever and that while Chad prolongs the divorce papers, Archie will not be waiting for Veronica considering he doesn’t want her. Varchie = bones we love to see it!
- now who tf would join Penelope Blossom’s ministry… no one, realistically.
- can Cheryl stop being given the craziest and usually most boring plots ever please...
- Not someone holding a gun to Tabitha literally don’t hurt Riverdale’s best girl weirdo
- these bitches really haven’t aged huh…. poor Veronica though being robbed but like they stole some watches or something and the opal like that’s all you take..?? okay-
- Fangs 💞💞💞💞💞 also rip to him having to work with his ex tho
- STOP HAVING ARCHIE GO TO HIRAM WE’RE TIRED
- You know considering the whole reason why Hiram is still here as the villain and ruining Veronica’s life/growth to keep her in his plots al because Mark is a big soap opera celeb and apparently brings in money, you’d assume they would give him GOOD shit instead of everything he’s gotten. If they hadn’t of hired Mark can you imagine how much better off the show would be if they didn’t have to keep him around bc of his status????? God why-
- Reggie’s always there for Veronica muah…. oh fuck me I guess fjasjkdf
- “I work for one Lodge and it’s not you.” lmao okay??? you acting like that’s a flex, and that you’re working for the better Lodge who literally left you to die after the Serpents thought you shot Fangs so-
- MARTY BEING WHY REGGIE IS WORKING FOR HIRAM…….. YOUR DAD IS ABUSIVE LET HIM HANDLE HIS OWN DEBT??? God both Veronica and Reggie are always fucked over when it comes to their parents huh
- don’t you just love when they make characters act ooc for a plot ahhhhhh it’s totally fun to watch and totally not frustratingly annoying
- “FOR OLD TIMES SAKE.” 💞💞💞 we love Veggie even though they made Veronica act ooc and hurt him back then and they weren’t given an actual chance.
- “don’t be such a Betty” now why is Betty so surprised she only ever had fun when she was with Archie, when she’s with Jughead all she did was do what she wanted and order him around so likeefjhakdfh
- “he shouldn’t really be my problem anymore.” BUGHEAD BONES YASSSSS
- I know it was just a sound they used but like that squish sound when Darla kicked Tom’s face… did she like smash his face in damn what is this The Walking Dead?
- see the problem with them randomly bringing characters/parents in when they need them is that they’re never around so like no one really cares… like they could have utilized the parents so much (and Skeet and Marisol never would have left) and it would have been so much better than random appearances that make them look incompetent and awful parents because they’re never there during all the other times their kids need them. but we have to see the two toxic parents that won’t go away constantly??? literally what the fuck
- Betty calling Jughead’s writing cringey wbk she’s never liked his writing she was just stroking his ego bc she was his gf and had to be supportive lmaoo
- why are these 60+ year old men beating up Jughead like for why???
- so they just forgot that Tom was checking in on the convict huh gotta love dumbing down characters for plot!
- Fangs with his switchblade muah
- jealous Tabitha muahhh over a password
- “wait THE BETTY?"
- Cheryl looks so good
- Find meaning in his death… girl didn’t you not care that your husband killed your son over the illegal maple stuff I forgot the plot but it was something illegal and dumb
- “drain the vein” …...
- Reggie helping muah
- Why is Archie acting like an ass? like sure he doesn’t know that Chad is abusive and toxic but c’mon fucker you cheated on her and never apologized and you don’t even wanna be with her in the first place so why are you acting like you’re personally hurt sit down
- God Archie really hates Veronica huh… I don’t even blame him considering the shit she’s brought him into time and time again.
- Jughead was kicked like maybe five times yet he was fine falling out of a two story window and the serpent imitation but now he needs antibiotics..? plot convenience!
- literally don’t remember anything about Doc tbh or him talking to Donna and Bret like—
- ever since Negan people are obsessed with bats with barbed wire.
- also! yes please kill Hiram <3 I know they end up saving him bc of the opal but c'mon
- they searched basically nothing for five seconds wow such great detective work you guys!
- we know you just want his manuscript Jessica
- Cheryl with her rainbow skirt how cute!
- “daddykins” girl you’re like 25
- Veronica acting like she cares about Hiram fjsadhkfhas these guys thinking that they’d kill Hiram even though they need him lol
- bad bitch Ronnie we love her even though she’s gonna have to save her father to save others and get her opal </3
- not Veronica calling Archie first and not Kevin considering Kevin’s dad is there…. this is the pandering va fan service bs we have bc it makes no sense and it’s so forced
- Fangs knowing Archie rides with tools in his truck mmhm that’s a little sus idk how but archiefangs agenda coming through!
- no one would actually believe that Jessica ashkjdfsj and they take this bait…??? you gotta be joking lmao
- Jug got to help doc this time 🥺😭
- …. tell me why when he said boyfriend I immediately thought of Reggie I hate myself for wishing fahsdjkfsafj
- okay as cheesy and corny and awful the fight scene is since they posted a clip of it, them working together is so refreshing and nice we love leader!Veronica bc she’s so good at it. but the show only cares for Betty which is funny since she’s an awful detective fbahsdjfj
- my god enough with Jason’s body!!!!!!!!! you burned his body please let him stay dead let his body rest
- okay but the back and forth from Betty and Jessica is so good like I wish we could get that kind of rivalry drama type stuff all the time. too bad they refuse to let Veronica act like a normal person and get angry at being cheated on and such :/ when will Veronica slap the fuck out of Betty
- he’s not a blameless victim but Betty take responsibility for how awful a person you are PLEASE
- THE VOICEMAILLLLLLL Jughead only speaks the truth! it’s weird that he only realized what we all knew about Betty after but whatever, finally he gets upset like damn. also jeronica crumb he’s the only one to ever include Veronica smh ALSO Cole acted the fuck outta this voice mail muah
- the way Betty just sits there uncaring… she really is a freak huh god when will someone punch her in the face and take her ego down a million notches she’s so annoying
- “that’s darkness.” …?? what?
- the way bh’s relationship parallels jughead’s with Jessica though. the unhealthy habits, the bad energy, etc. except Jessica left it and Betty didn’t and it turned Betty into whatever the fuck this is. I miss s1 Betty :/
- so when will they sue Jessica for drugging them? mmhm probably never
- poor Tabitha being the only one who cares about jughead tho
- oh no I forgot there was a random musical number…
- you’re gonna have Betty and Tabitha act like THAT and not put them together so rude
- when will Cheryl be free from her mom. is was like turned on by abuse or something sigh why do the toxic (and most boring!) parents get plots and screen time and everyone else doesn’t...
- Veronica would be able to do Moree than pepper spray but whatever only Betty is allowed be “badass"
- fangs being fangs ugh so sexy my babyyyyy
- Trevor Stines is so attractive it’s a shame they only bring him back for five seconds to traumatize Cheryl over and over again though </3
- wow varchie in a pop’s booth what season is this again??
- god it’s so upsetting how amazing varchie would have been as just friends…
- the way he smiled at Veronica was so contradicting to the blank, “please don’t” expression when she was telling him she was gonna get divorced as fast as possible. why can’t he just admit he doesn’t want to be with her!!!!!! my god they’ve put off barchie long enough just let them be together so their characters can finally act in character and stop being so awful and annoying
- “this cause” what cause you fucking weirdo
- not Hiram threatening the mayor he could literally be your downfall if we had good writers fjasdkjfasf
- jughead how would you have killed him with a small wooden basket
- I like doc so much but I know we’ll never see him again until we randomly need him seasons from noow
- Betty wasn’t hit by the drugs until after the message though… how would she not remember? it didn’t seem to be doing anything to Betty until the bunker
- hopefully since they’re friends now Tabitha can make Betty act like a decent human being <3
- the way Tabitha looked at Betty please stop doing this to me...
- maybe we can finish that dance!!!!!!!!!!!!!! jabitha rising bughead dying we love to see it!
wow that episode felt like it was two hours long but thankfully I finally finished it… don’t have many actual thoughts but anyways hope you enjoyed my live blog of my thoughts!
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cescalr · 4 years
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Why Is Draco Malfoy So Underrated?
A repost of a Quora answer because Quora hates me for some reason
@vivithefolle​ i take little convincing here I go -
SO!
You. Yeah, you. You, nebulous quora questioner, you think Malfoy is underrated, do you? Well I, CescaLR, am here to set the record straight. The following is the answer I posted to Quora, that was flagged with ‘answer may need improvement’, which means some asshole was trawling the answers to the question posted and didn’t like mine so they had the moderators hide it because said person doesn’t like differing opinions. This post is thereby an archive, so if my answer is never again allowed to see the light of day on Quora, at least my maths is visible elsewhere. 
Hopefully, this entertains you, tumblr user reading this post. Also, as fair warning, if you do like Draco Malfoy and somehow stumbled across this post, I recommend skipping it. 
Why is Draco Malfoy so underrated?
Fleur Lee-Ranger
Author of 857406 words of fanfiction and counting.
ANSWER:
HAHAHAHA.
Ha.
Ha.
hah…..
For god’s sake, I hope you’re not serious.
Let’s look at YouTube, first:
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Does 2.2 million f*cking views on a woobie Draco edit seem like he’s underrated to you? Any character that gets 2.2 million views on an edit that interprets the character in a sympathetic, caring light…. Jesus Christ. They’re not underrated.
You could make a clear argument for them being overrated, by matter of fact!
The first result is his entire life story, and a redemption of the Malfoy family as a whole, and it’s… super popular!
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look at that! 70k likes versus 1.7k dislikes. Let’s use my favourite maths thing once again: Ratios!!
(I hate ratios. The things I do to prove a point, eh?)
This video has 5201431 million views. It has around 70k likes, 1.1k dislikes. We’ll round 5201431, as 70k and 1.1k are both rounded numbers and I can’t be bothered to deal with numbers that are too complicated right now, it’s nearly nine pm. 5201431 -> 5.2 million. It’s the rounded number YouTube itself uses on the search page - check the first image if you don’t believe me, and since YouTube thinks that’s good enough, so will we.
5200000 : 70000 : 1100
52000 : 700 : 11
Divide all by 11 (and round awkward numbers, because we’re already dealing in rounded numbers anyway, which is kind of bad practice, but it’ll do for this context):
4,727 : 64 : 1
As I’ve proven before (not on Quora, you can probably find it in the comments of one of my fanfictions, I’ll end up moving it over here one day when I find the right question), fandom content engagement rates are always pretty bad. But honestly? every four thousand or so views, you get 64 likes, compared to just one dislike. That’s great! That’s incredible! I’d kill for those kinds of ratings!!
(Draco’d probably wimp out, though. hehe. Jokes, jokes.)
As for his woobie video:
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2.3m : 152k : 715
2300000 : 153000 : 715
Nice, don’t need to remove any superfluous zeroes. Bad, for… well, your hypothesis, to put it nicely, since that means there are only seven hundred and fifteen goddamn dislikes on this video, what the f*ck, why do so many people like this b*stard child.
Ahem. Sorry, that’s rude to illegitimate children like myself. There is nothing wrong with having unmarried parents.
…Anyway, lets slim down that ratio:
3217 : 214 : 1
Holy sh*t. I would do more than kill for this ratio. Oh my god.
That’s some great engagement there. So many likes! Clearly, Draco dearie is a very popular boy! He’d love that. I hate this on principle. God am I glad 13 year old me didn’t really use YouTube (I watched gaming content and little else, didn’t even find fandom content until 2015) or I’d have contributed one of those likes, probably.
Oh wait, no! Never mind! I can’t have contributed one of those likes, because this f*cking video was posted last year!!!!!
LAST GODDAMN YEAR!!!!
Do you understand that? Do you - do you have any idea how - just how difficult it is to get that many views that quickly and with that good an engagement???? Do you???????? It has been, get this, seven, seven whole f*cking months, Less time than it takes to make a baby, and this f*cking video has 2,265,900!!! million!!!! views!!!! With a ratio of 214 likes to one goddamn dislike.
oh my god.
oh my god
oh my god
I’m having a minor mental breakdown. Jesus f*cking H Christ on a goddamn bike.
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Look at these comments! Look at how many likes they have!! Oh my god!!!! Draco Malfoy might just be one of the most beloved characters ever to get this sort of reaction, for hell’s sake!
I don’t know what kind of dunderhead you are to not notice how f*cking popular this jackass little b*stard boy is, but god, the whiny little sh*t has more fans than oh, I don’t know. Someone really popular. Tom Holland? I don’t know celebrities. Sorry.
But my point is, for god’s sake, Malfoy isn’t underrated. I don’t know what rock you’ve been living under, my friend, but that sheer idolisation you so crave of your wimpy f*cking husband is right there in front of you! Just search his name, and you’ll see it front and goddamn centre. Those of us that don’t worship the ground he walks on are generally much more background.
For god’s sake, he’s a trope namer.
Draco In Leather Pants.
How much more evidence do you need than that?
Of course, I could be jumping the gun. You could be a fan of his that is frustrated by the fanon interpretation of his character. ‘Why is he reduced to a bad boy with a heart of gold when actually he’s a more complicated asshole with sh*tty morality and no backbone that gives a whole ass damn about his family but not much else?’ Good question! Blame Cassie Claire, though I suppose that’s my go-to for most things.
Seriously though; Draco Malfoy is not even remotely overrated. He’s a whiny, terrible, useless waste of space in the books; and in fandom, he’s transformed into a cool, collected, redeemable or outright good person who’s smart and talented and like, super hot you guys, doesn’t he look cute with Hermione/Harry/Insert Author’s Projected Character Here?!!!!
Also: Y’all are f*cking creeps for this shit:
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THAT’S A SCENE FROM WHEN THE KID IS TWELVE, FOR GOD’S SAKE. I’m not even joking, half of you are nonces and I want nothing to do with you! ‘hot draco malfoy edits’ HE’S TWELVE
HE’S TWELVE
HE’S TWELVE.
Hot take time:
Draco Malfoy is overhyped, overrated, and oversexualised and I want all of this to stop, because you’re doing it to Tom Felton, when he was a child. A child! That’s creepy! Please do not make hot edits of children, thank you!!!!!
Someone call the police. I’m done with this f*cking fandom, oh my god.
(Also, if you think I edited that in like some sick weirdo might do, just go find that video and give it a watch. I wouldn’t if I were you, I’d believe me, because watching that video probably puts you on a watchlist somewhere.
It should.)
Okay. Deep breaths. It’s been a few months, this answer was flagged with the wonderfully opaque ‘this answer may need improvement’, and I’m back to refine this. I’m not taking anything out, but I’m adding some extra investigation. For posterity’s sake; the original answer only contained YouTube analysis. Let’s look through Archive Of Our Own, shall we?
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As I showed in my answer re: the well-liked-ness of Lilly and Hermione, this is the number of total fics within the HP tag.
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This is the number of tags when ‘Draco Malfoy’ is added to the ‘included characters’ filter.
So, in terms of ‘fandom work presence’ (AO3 is mostly fanfic, but it is not all fanfic, there are a few vids and some art on there, too) Malfoy’s ratio is thus:
254603:65469
3.8889… : 1
4 : 1
So, rounding up, for every four works on AO3, there is one that includes Draco dearie. Good lord, he’s pervasive, isn’t he? Can’t turn a corner in the fandom without seeing his pasty ferret face plastered all over the walls… lovely.
Now, once again - that wasn’t the best ratio. I didn’t remove bashing, for example, so not all those works will be positive (as in, since you think he’s underrated, that means - I assume - you think people don’t like him enough) so let’s go the long mile:
I will find a ratio for Mr Malfoy Jr’s fans, versus his haters, in terms of - how many fics bash Malfoy, and how many greatly enjoy his existence?
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Add the bashing tag, and now let’s see how many fics there are with a) Draco in it, and b) Draco Bashing:
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hahahhahagag;k;asdkf
Oh no!
Oh my god I dodn’t…. one second… give me just one second….
Right. Laughing fit over, okay. 17.
So, 65469 works with Draco present, 17 of which don’t like him overmuch, and 65452 like him just fine/present him as he appears in canon! Awesome. Of course, people who present him as he is in canon may not like him the way you want him to, so, not awesome? Hmm. I’m not sure how to filter for that. I suppose you wouldn’t want people who write him OOC, though, because that’s not rating him properly, is it? Should we add OOC to the bashing, to get people who don’t appreciate his… many positive character traits… to the extent that you would like?
Yes, I think we should.
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Now, there’s no tag for ‘OOC Draco Malfoy’, because that would make my life too easy. And, I’m not going through 151 works to figure out which ones have Draco being the one OOC. If they’ve written one person OOC, and they’re self-aware enough to tag it, then I’m going to meanly assume they’ve written Draco OOC as well. When one person’s out of whack, I’ve found everyone else is, too, so I’m not just doing this to be a dick, I promise, it’s for a real, good, understandable reason, one that is not only because I really don’t want to have to do any maths more complicated than basic ratios.
So. 151 OOC works, 17 bashing works. 168 works of not properly appreciated Draco Malfoy, coming up, which takes our 65469 Draco works down to… 65301.
Well, that’s a lot, still.
So, there’s still some tags to remove, like Evil, and Abusive, and all that lark. I’ll go do that quickly, and come back with the maths.
(okay, but I do have to show this:)
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(fourteen works in the ‘Evil’ draco tag?? are you serious???)
(oh and you can’t filter by Abusive Draco Malfoy, like that’s not a tag, so I can’t exclude it, but it really adds to the general atmosphere of ‘Draco Malfoy? Yeah he’s cool I like him’ that this fandom has going on, doesn’t it?)
Alright so! We really only could take away those 14 works. Okay.
By the way, just so you know - I didn’t exclude tags like ‘Death Eater Draco Malfoy’ and ‘Bully Draco Malfoy’ (if the latter even exists), because those are things that happen in canon, and when I think of a character as being ‘underrated’ I include not acknowledging their canon actions, the bad and the good. A character is only as good as their complexities run deep.
So.
For the ratio, I guess;
65469 : 151 : 17 : 14
4,676.3571… : 10.7857… : 1.2142… : 1
4,676 : 11 : 1 : 1
Hmm.
For every 4 thousand 6 hundred fics Draco appears in, 11 of them have OOC tagged, 1 of them has Draco Bashing tagged, and 1 of them has Evil Draco tagged. That is…
That is unfathomably good. I’m really, genuinely having a hard time picturing it. I really, honestly, don’t think there’s been a character as unquestionably overrated as Draco Malfoy in all of fandom, because, good lord, look at that ratio! People love the guy!
Let’s see the good draco malfoy tag, shall we?
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Now, to be fair, most people don’t bother tagging any of this sort of thing, usually, so that’s a minor flaw in my ratio-ing. We can’t actually know exactly how many works laud Malfoy, or hate him, or feel ambivalent, because people don’t tag their shit properly. But I’m hoping this helps, at least a little. Anyway, 905! That’s a few. Not many, but certainly more than Evil or Bashing or even OOC.
65469 : 905 : 151 : 17 : 14
4,676.3571… : 64.6428 : 10.7857… : 1.2142… : 1
4,676 : 65 : 11 : 1 : 1
Yep. That’s not bad, not bad at all.
So. Most people seem to like him, if we’re honest. As I pointed out above, he’s a trope namer. If you didn’t click on the link for Draco In Leather Pants, here’s a brief summary from the TV Tropes page:
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[ Transcription:
Sometimes, a fanwork will portray a villainous character in a more positive light. It can be done out of sympathy for the character, for shipping reasons, as a part of a role-reversal story, several of the aforementioned or for the variety of other reasons.
The common subjects of this treatment are characters who are wicked in a classy or cool way. A physically attractive villain is much more likely to be subject to this trope than a physically ugly one; Beauty = Goodness, after all, and shallow as it may be, it seems that, for some fans, this is the case even when the character's beauty only extends to their appearance. All Girls Want Bad Boys may be a factor with male villains getting a female fandom that views them through this lens. A badass villain will naturally be preferred by many of these over meeker heroic characters at times, as well. Ugly Cute villains also get this pretty easily. ]
So! There’s that. He named a trope all about appreciating a character perhaps (usually definitely) more than they deserve, so I wouldn’t call him ‘underrated’ by most general definitions of the word:
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People seem to mostly believe him to be quite good, actually! Certainly enough to write about him a lot, to draw him a lot, to edit him a lot, to theorise about him a lot, to ship him with the main character so much that the 99th filter ever on AO3 was Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter.
Hey, actually, that’s a good idea! Which filter id is Draco Malfoy?
Now, if I’m not mistaken, it’s been a while since I had to do this -
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Draco Malfoy was the 1589th tag canonised in the tag system of AO3. Let’s check the Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter tag (which I know for certain was 99) to make sure:
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And lo and behold, I was right. That’s mad. That’s mad!!!!
Ooh, I’ve found a fun trick
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To change which rss feed you’re looking at, copy the https:// link up to .atom in the speech marks, and change the highlighted number. That shows you what uses that tag_ids: - in this case, 93 is Draco himself. The 93rd tag, dedicated to Draco Malfoy. Good lord, that’s insane! I guess there really weren’t many other things to prioritize at the time, but that’s still silly to me.
Fluff and Angst appears to be the fiftieth tag canonised, for comparison. Sometimes when you replace the rss feed’s ‘tag’ in the address bar it takes you to the tag’s page instead of the feed, because that tag doesn’t have an rss feed. The more you know!
Anyway, back on track: I think all of that, rss feeds, youtube analytics, fandom presence, all kind of proves my point:
Draco Malfoy is not underrated. He is, arguably, overrated as a character, but unarguably very popular within the greater Harry Potter fandom. Unpopular characters don’t tend to get paired with the lead, at the very least - and you can’t turn around in the Harry Potter fandom without seeing Drarry somewhere, can you?
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horrorlad · 3 years
Text
Horrorlad Reviews: The Dentist (1996)
Or at least, like, talks about it a bunch. 
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Boy was I overthinking my first real Horror Lad post! It was going to be Grave Encounters, but that will have to wait, because I got insomnia and decided to rewatch a movie I hadn’t seen seen since I was 14, which wound up being the perfect opportunity to write out a post!
Let’s talk about The Dentist!
So, The Dentist is a 1996 movie starring Corbin Bernsen. It was directed by Brian Yuzna (one of the producers of Re-Animator, he also directed the 1989 body horror film Society which I haven’t seen, though a cursory image search tells me I need to add to my watch list immediately).
Anyway, The Dentist is about a teethsman who catches his wife giving some other guy a BJ and gets so grossed out about it that he has a nervous breakdown about, uh, how dirty mouths are, I guess? He loses his absolute shit (though he didn’t seem to have it all that together to begin with; this guy’s Jack Torrance is way more Kubrick than King), and we the audience get to tag along for all the wacky fun.
Full disclosure: I can’t give an unbiased review of this movie. I watched it several times in high school, then completely forgot about it for ten years, until tonight. There’s too much nostalgia wrapped up in it.
That said, upon rewatching it, I am in LOVE with the structure of it as a film. You know how, some movies, you can tell that the people behind the scenes are having a blast? This is one of those movies. The structure of the shots vary wildly, and I suspect that there was not one tripod or stabilizer on that set. The makeup and effects are fun, every actor has an opportunity to shine at least once, and the pacing is totally bonkers. I will note, however, that for a slasher movie the confirmed death count is pretty low, AND most of the murders are less dentistry-related than you might expect. Still, it’s a good time, and right now it’s available to watch for free (with commercials) on Tubi, which is pretty sweet!
Read on for the content warnings and spoilers. In the meantime, I give The Dentist 3.5 tanks of nitrous oxide (use with caution).
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Content warnings and plot synopsis below the cut.
Content Warnings
Also, I don’t really know what to classify this one as, but there is a lot of “ick” factor to this movie — rotting teeth, sludge, etc. If you’re easily squicked out by that sort of stuff, I’d proceed with caution.
Dental torture (and how!) – it’s basically the whole movie, folks.
Sexual assault – multiple instances, including a character having their head forced down while giving oral sex (in a daydream), and another character being assaulted while on nitrous oxide.
Spousal abuse (physical and emotional) – again, there’s a lot of this.
Child abuse – A young child has their gums stabbed by the dentist.
Animal abuse – a dog is shot offscreen.
--------------------------------------
Okay, spoiler time!
Whoo boy, here we go!
I have no idea why I watched this movie so much as a teen. Probably because it was free on FearNet (remember FearNet?) and I would watch just about anything.
Watching it as an adult, my first thought is… man this is weirdly paced. My second thought is that there’s a lot more non-dental-related murders than I would have expected, but we’ll come back to that.
So, our hero(?) is a dentist, and we meet him at the beginning of a framing device, miming dentistry and offering to tell us about his story. The bulk of the movie is then a flashback about how he got to where he is, interspersed with his monologuing or whatever. We meet him and his wife (who are a straight couple in a movie and thus required to completely hate one another) on their anniversary, a fact which becomes clear while he’s in the middle of throwing a fit about his laundry.
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Pictured: a totally hinged man. Nothing unhinged going on here, no sir.
At any rate, he gets all suspicious after an interaction with the pool guy, and catches his wife having an affair with the guy. He continues framing-device-monologuing about decay and the world being filthy and all that, daydreams about assaulting his wife and murdering the pool boy, etc. He follows the pool guy to the neighbor’s house, acts all weird, shoots a dog — your basic Tuesday.
Eventually, he winds up at the office, starts hallucinating, assaults a couple of patients, and finally calls an early end to the day (self care is important). We get this delightful (in a heavy-handed sort of way) scene that keeps cutting back and forth between him setting out spooky dental tools and his wife getting dressed for the big anniversary surprise he’s has planned, and that’s when things really start to go haywire.
Okay.
So like.
I get that he’s a dentist.
I get that he’s a dentist whose whole shtick is having the themed exam rooms (though why we have aaaalll these rooms for a bunch of hygienists and one dentist is a little beyond me).
But you mean to tell me that this dude’s special anniversary surprise for his wife was to show her his new, opera-themed dental exam room?
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“Oh, honey… you really, really shouldn’t have…”
Like, I know he’s settled on a revenge plot by this point, but I still definitely believe that this guy was legitimately planning the entire time to show his wife his fancy new dental suite as an anniversary surprise. Not to be that guy, but no wonder she was having an affair.
Honestly though, I love this scene. I love the camera PoV shots as he shows off the dental suite, I love the excessive gesturing with his left hand. I love how the scene starts off with his point-of-view of her, and then transitions into her point-of-view of him, cut with those big beautiful teeth-yanking shots. It’s ridiculous.
And then, they get home, he has some monologuing about the pool, etc.
Next scene, it’s the next day, some cops come to ask questions about the murdered dog, his wife is out back on a pool chair with her giant sunhat covering her face (the way normal, totally-not-drugged people hang out by the pool) while the pool guy does his pool guy stuff. Eventually the cops leave, yadda yadda yadda, the pool guy scoops the wife’s tongue out of the pool, he sees how fucked up she is, the dentist murders the shit out of him. It’s beautiful.
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Don’t you love it when you finish your to-do list first thing in the morning?
The end.
Wait, no, that’s not right.
Somehow, there’s still almost half a movie left.
This movie starts with this dude fighting with his wife, catching his wife cheating with the pool guy, hallucinating his wife’s nasty mouth on everyone, etc. You’d think that, with his wife tortured all to shit and the pool guy dead, the movie would have wrapped up.
I mentioned before that the pacing of the movie is weird, which it is. I mean, he has his “oop guess I’m evil now” scene on his way to work the next day, which basically means that just over half of this movie is the origin story. It could be longer, with the big climactic nonsense taking up the last quarter or so. It could be shorter, with him freaking out about his wife, losing his shit, and having a proper dental rampage. Instead, The Dentist flies in the face of conventional story structure.
But this man is a busy man. He’s a dentist, damn it.
He has to get back to work!
Things are happening fast now, let’s get condensed.
We go back to work, he pulls some malpractice shit on that lady whose dog he shot yesterday, then strangles Jessica-the-hygienist (I think that’s her job) when she calls him on it. Later, a man from the IRS comes in and uses the dentist’s shady tax junk to get free dental work which is, uh, inadvisable. IRS man, Marvin Goldblum, starts talking about our dentist’s wife (and about how unhinged shiksas are in bed, in case we somehow we didn’t piece together that he’s an awful Jewish caricature), and I’m sure the rest of his appointment goes totally normally.
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Get a guy who looks at you like this.
Meanwhile, the cops are definitely onto him regarding the murder of that dog (after all, murdering dogs is THEIR turf). They go to his house, where he left the body of the pool guy he murdered just laying around outside for anyone to find (which they do). Then they go upstairs and find his wife, who is alive but so fucked up.
Back at the office, Karen-the-other-hygienist, looking for her coworker who got murdered earlier, stumbles upon the very fucked up IRS dude. We get to listen to the dentist give a little monologue about how grossed out he is that his wife put some dude’s “dirty, rotten… in her mouth!” before he injects air into a vein in Karen-the-other-hygienist’s neck to kill her.
Next up, this girl who has been waiting for two days to get her braces off gets called back. She’s adorable and chipper, so this, of course, can only go well. When’s the last time you had your dentist pull a gun on you?
Our scrappy youngster runs off, and he gives chase (we find that Mr. Goldblum’s jaw elongation procedure is going well by the way), before eventually letting her go after she promises to take very, very good care of her teeth.
After all, he’s got his next job to get to.
Let’s go teach dental students the importance of pulling out everyone’s teeth!
Yeeep, he’s a teacher! And after he shoots one of his students while hallucinating, the cops show up, resulting in the slowest chase scene any movie has ever had (I mean the dude is literally just briskly walking down the hall and he still gets away from them). Anyway, the dentist winds up in an auditorium where a woman is practicing her opera singing. The dentist is entranced by this (we know he loves opera from that scene with his wife earlier) and reaches out to the singer, but he hallucinates his wife’s hecked up face on her and drops to his knees, presumably to have the rest of his nervous breakdown. The cops… uh… well, they just kinda stand around looking disapprovingly at him while he sits on the floor. And that’s… that’s it, I guess?
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“Nah, let him rest, he’s had a big day.” 
 In our final scene, we have some orderlies at his new mental institution drag him down for his regular appointment, where his wife (who I guess is a dentist now) starts drilling at his teeth. This may or may not be a hallucination. It probably doesn’t matter.
Wow. That certainly was a film.
Alright, so, I’ve been typing up my thoughts as I watch, and I think I’ve figured out what I like about this movie, that had me coming back to it over and over as a youngster. There are some movies that just look fun to film, and this is one of them. A number of the shots are really charming, for lack of a better word. There’s the anniversary scene with his wife I mentioned before, but so many others — this movie plays around with point of view, extreme close-ups, some very fun effects used to indicate the hallucinations… there’s even a sideways shot of one of the cops coming down the stairs. I seem to have a real fondness for that sort-of manic, anything-goes approach to filming. Related side note: is there a single steady shot on this whole film? I’m beginning to doubt it.
Corbin Bernsen does a great job. I mean, all the actors do, really, but he is something else. Like, I can’t think offhand of many actors who could successfully take the character “dentist in bad marriage has a nervous breakdown because his wife gives someone else a blow job and it grosses him out; goes on torturemurder spree” without overacting to the point of distraction. “What are you talking about, this dude’s hammier than Easter dinner,” you say. Now, I get the urge here, but I have to disagree; Bernsen plays a fantastic Emasculated White Guy Throwing A Fit.
That picture I posted up there, after the bit about the laundry argument? A dude who makes that face over the idea of wearing the wrong cuff links to work is at most twelve seconds away from completely losing his shit at any given moment. And the dude’s anniversary surprise for his wife was to show off his new, opera-themed dental exam room; none of this behavior seems too off the wall for that character. Granted, I haven’t seen the sequel yet, and the image searches do suggest that our dear dentist is about to use his well-cared-for teeth to chew the hell out of some scenery in The Dentist 2, but in this movie? I’m just saying it’s not an unbelievable portrayal.
Disgruntled white dudes aside, the rest of the cast seems to have a fun time too. Shout out to the receptionist literally sobbing over what a great dentist this guy is (stunning work). If nothing else, stop by for wee baby Mark Ruffalo before he was famous. It’s adorable.
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LOOK AT HIM.
ALL THAT SAID, I have to state again how surprised I am by the sheer number of not-dental-related murders! Like, by my count, this guy commits a hefty amount of malpractice, but for a guy on a torturemurder spree, he sure does seem to keep his torture and his murder fairly separate. Let’s tally it:
I’m tired, let’s wrap this up. The Dentist is a fun movie about a dude who loses his shit, does some dental torture, does some murder, does ZERO dental torturemurders, and then just kinda tuckers himself out and sits down. It’s a big silly mess, and I love it.
Tortures: six
The kid at the beginning, the lady he sexually assaults (it counts), his wife (not dead), that lady whose dog he shot, Marvin the IRS guy (alive when last we see him), and the person at the dental school near the end.
Murders: three people, one dog.
The dog (shot), the pool guy (knifed), Jessica-the-hygienist (strangled), Karen-the-other-hygienist (air injected into artery), and that’s… it..? He does shoot that person at the dental school, but it doesn’t appear to be a fatal wound, and Marvin the IRS guy was alive when we saw him last.
Torturemurders: HECKIN’ ZERO.
Zero! None of the tortures are murdered, and nobody he murders is tortured! What the heck kind of slasher dentist doesn’t even kill people via dentistry? No wonder everyone looks down on him at the end.
Alright, first post written. I’m going to bed.
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archadianskies · 4 years
Text
Whumptober Day 23
Exhaustion + Sleep Deprivation  → part of the MT-RK900
Whumptober Masterlist | 23/31 of RK900 short stories ↳ on Ao3
Tags:  Post-Pacifist Best Ending x Exhaustion x Sleep Deprivation
{Character sheet + bonus art here, and here. }
It starts small, starts as barely noticeable symptoms that can easily be mistaken for something else. Nothing is easily mistaken to him, nothing is ever dismissed casually, not when he deals with people’s lives on a daily basis. That includes the lives of his colleagues too, and today, specifically, it involves the lives of his human colleagues.
“Dr Fitzpatrick, you are exhibiting the initial signs of influenza.” He tells his senior, the Director of the trauma unit and his attending leader for the shift. “It is best to take precautionary measures and time off to recuperate whilst removing yourself from possibly infecting others.”
“What?” She blinks at him, brows creased and lips pursed in a frown. “It’s been a long shift, that’s all.” He says nothing, though his expression must say a lot because her frown deepens. “You’re sure?”
“With adequate care you will recover much quicker and stop the spread amongst our colleagues, than if you were to continue working and possibly, quite rapidly, infect others.” Ronan says evenly. “Influenza season is already underway, we are treating more and more patients everyday and we have had three deaths already.”
She gives him a long hard look, searching his face for some sort of reaction before she sighs tiredly. “Are there others on the team you think might have it?”
“There are four possible nurses, one clerk, and two registrars also exhibiting early signs.” Ronan informs her and she groans into her hand, rubbing her temples. 
“It’s not up to me to give others time off, you know.”
“I know. But you can speak to the right staff, and I can give them my findings.” He nods.
“We’re run off our feet already, and you’re rostered at Jericho for the next three days!”
“I can change that. Androids are not susceptible to influenza, and aside from the cold weather affecting some of the older models, we weather winter well.” He glances at the door. “If you can help arrange it, I will stay on for the week and use mainly a team mostly made up of the other android nurses here, minimising the risk of infection amongst the staff.”
“Ronan, you- that’s insane! No one can work an entire week, especially not in trauma!”
“No human can, but I am not human.” Ronan reminds her gently, and he knows she is tired and she knows he is counting on this. She relents, shoulders sagging.
“Four days. Not seven. Four, and I will aim to be back by then.” She points her finger at him accusingly. “Don’t you dare take on more than you can handle. You’re the best trauma surgeon I’ve ever worked with, so god help me if you run yourself ragged because you’re too damn nice!”
So it begins. After careful negotiations the ration rises from five human nurses for every one android nurse, to two humans per one android. Ronan assigns various amounts of memory in his processing core to take over the clerical duties, and the E.D. phone is now answered by an ST300 temporarily stepping in from reception. This means she can answer the call and feed the information directly onto his HUD for ease of triaging. He keeps patient charts in a digital folder, and medication schedules, and theatre bookings.
He utilises programming that would normally be used for listing mission objectives and keeping tabs on the status of other soldiers in his battalion, for good instead, for saving lives and managing their care. At the seventieth hour mark, one of the android nurses pass him a bottle of thirium and he drains it, belatedly realising his levels are below optimum given how fast he is burning through it due to the high number of processes he is running. No matter. He will continue.
 At the eightieth hour, he receives a concerned message from Simon while he is operating on a stabbing victim. The knife penetrated into the victim’s small bowel and it is a race against time to repair the damage. He manages to send Simon a quick reassuring message that yes he is fine, but will not be able to come home for some time yet. Dr Fitzpatrick had said four days but he knows it will not be four days. He will need longer because the humans will need longer. It is alright. He is an RK900, CyberLife’s latest cutting edge android. He can manage.
As predicted, Dr Fitzpatrick does not return after four days. No matter. Ronan powers on, temporarily rotating out the last of the human nurses as a precautionary measure as a surge of new influenza patients floods the hospital. Humans are woefully unprepared for the season due to a lot of factors, be they socio-economic or just plain ignorance. There was a pandemic his father lived through, with many wild tales of humans simply ignoring even the basic, primitive safety measures attempted. It does not surprise Ronan to see so many victims this season either, given all that Hank has told him about those ‘unprecedented times’. 
There is no time to stand under the charging bay downlights. There has been a shooting and there are multiple victims en route to the hospital. And hours before that, there had been a multi vehicle crash on the highway. And hours before that, there was a case of food poisoning at a children’s party which meant Ronan had to call the paediatric registrar for extra help. There is never a good time, and so he has to be conservative about power usage to ensure he can still handle the workload safely. 
“Your hair is white.” One of the nurses whisper to him as they’re scrubbing up for yet another surgery. Ah. His stress levels must be high. He hasn’t checked- he turned off his notifications ten hours ago. 
“I am functioning adequately. It is only cosmetic.” He reassures them with words, and he’s glad there’s a mask over his mouth because he hasn’t quite mastered how to give reassuring smiles to match. 
“You’ve been on call for five days, nearly six now.” They’re brows crease in concern and beneath their mask Ronan knows they are frowning. “You’ve given all of us an hour break every eight hours to ensure we have enough time to charge adequately. You’ve done this for all android staff except yourself!”
“There is no other android qualified for surgery.” He reminds them, flicking through the patient’s stats and passing them on to the surgical team. “So I cannot rest.”
On the first surgery on his sixth consecutive day as the trauma surgeon on call, Ronan finds that the bulbs in the surgical downlights have been replaced with UV charging lights. The same nurse who raised concerns earlier gives him a somewhat stern, no-nonsense look.
“So you can charge while you operate.” A compromise, he realises, and a very kind one too. He gets to work, and he feels the tension unwind from his shoulders, his battery core soaking up the charge as the lights bear down on him. It’s not quite stasis, not quite reprieve from the onslaught of duties, but it’s close.
**
“Simon?” Dr Anthea looks up from her tablet, blinking in surprise as the Jericho leader stands in the doorway of her office. “What can I do for you?”
“Ronan is still at Detroit Metro.” The PL600 chews his bottom lip, wringing his hands together anxiously. “It’s been six whole days straight and he stopped answering my messages on the fourth day.”
“Yes he’s temporarily removed himself from our roster to manage Detroit Metro ED while the human staff recover from the flu.” She sighs, shaking her head. “He’s very much like you, you know: he’ll work himself ragged for the sake of others.” Not quite the answer Simon hopes to hear, she’s sure, but it’s the one she’s giving because she’s right. She’s heard the tales from Professor Joshua. She knows during Jericho’s early stage, Simon nearly died keeping everyone safe and functioning. 
“I just- I’ve left so many messages at reception and though the receptionist assures me she’s passed them on, I can’t help but feel like he literally won’t stop unless he’s physically unable to keep working.” Simon gives her a pained look to which she can only reply with a cocked brow.
“Like you, Simon?”
“Well- alright, yes, like me!” Simon huffs, and it coaxes a laugh from her as the PL600 looks torn between embarrassment and determination. “You are the only android surgeon still qualified to work at human hospitals. To work at that human hospital.” He says it quietly, with caution, because they both know that was a different part of her life. Not an unpleasant one, definitely not, given she deviated out of empathy, out of kindness, but still a different chapter now put behind her. She has the qualifications because she never bothered to give them up like the other medroids. Sentimentality, perhaps, because Detroit Metro had been her home for so very long and to still see a valid ID badge gives her a little spark of joy whenever she opens her drawer. 
“Please?” Simon of the Jericho Four is pleading with her and she knows she cannot deny him a single thing, lovely and courageous and prone to martyrdom as he is.
*
It’s been eight days, twice the number of days she thought she’d need, but she’s feeling strong and healthy and definitely not weighed down by any symptoms anymore. Damn that android and his perceptive, persuasive ways. She both hates and loves how he’d been right, and yes he’s been running an incredibly tight ship here in her absence, though she wonders which other staff he’s rostered on to replace him because obviously he hasn’t been working the entire eight days straight. Right? Surely not. Obviously not. She warned him she’d be Very Cross if he worked more than four days. 
“Nicola?” She turns at the voice and there, right there is Medroid Anthea. The surgeon she shoved into an ambulance with as many android nurses as she could find when racing through the unit after that horrible announcement androids had to be surrendered to the police. Not on her watch, no damn way. 
“Anthea.” She smiles, though a little puzzled. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, you’ve worn my best surgeon down to his bones here so I’m coming back as a favour, just so he gets rest.” There’s a pause as she lets that sink in.
“Are you telling me Ronan’s been here the entire time?! All eight days?!” She nearly explodes with anger and Anthea cocks a perfectly arched brow in that gesture she hasn’t realised she’s missed seeing so much. They made such a great team.
“Why do you sound like you didn’t know this?”
“Because I didn’t! I’ve been on sick leave, recovering from the flu! Oh that boy, honestly!”
“Simon’s here to drag him home, and I’m here for his shift.” Anthea smiles as she clips her ID onto her scrubs. “Just like old times?”
She’s smiling so hard her cheeks ache. “Yeah. Just like old times.”
Simon can’t even stay angry with him. The anger just seeps out of him the moment he sees how exhausted Ronan looks, his hair stark white meaning his stress levels are at their peak given the weather isn’t cold enough to activate his tundra camouflage. He’d demanded his stats and the RK900 had given them with great embarrassment and Simon realised he’d been so very close to just shutting down to conserve what pitiful charge he had left. Honestly.
“You’re mad at me.” Ronan says quietly as Simon ushers him inside the apartment.
“I was.” Simon hangs up their coats before wrapping his arms around his waist and pressing his cheek to his chest. “Couldn’t stay mad, though. I know why you did it.”
“I had to help.”
“I know, love. I know.” Simon sighs, looking up at him fondly. “Because you’re a good, kind person and a wonderful colleague.”
Ronan says nothing, only offers a small smile before leaning down to bump his nose against his fondly.
“Right.” Simon declares with a nod, stepping back, grabbing his wrist and tugging him to their bedroom. “I’m putting you under the lights for a six hour charge and you are not leaving the bed a second earlier.”
“Yes, doctor.” Ronan smiles tiredly, pausing only to press their lips together in quiet gratitude before he lays down and closes his eyes. 
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unstoppablepjm · 5 years
Text
My Ultimate Jikook Fic Rec Part 1
Hello everyone~
Finally! I’ll be starting my kookmin/jikook fic rec. This has taken quite a while and I have over 500 fics to share 😭I’ll be dividing my posts into different parts and hopefully when I read new ones, I can start posting them separately.
So again, some disclaimers before we start!
Most of the fics I read involve some pretty heavy tags and almost always involve smut (lmao sorry, I’m a heathen what can I say)
With that said, READ THE TAGS FOR EACH FIC. Remember kids: dead dove don’t eat. 
This compilation will include: one-shots (c*mshots hekhek), chaptered, on-going, completed, and discontinued (yes, sadistic i know).
There may be some fluff recs here. But don’t count on it.
I'll cut the summaries as much as I can so that you won't get the whole block of text some writers include ksjdkjs
Again, and I will not stress this enough, don’t come at me if there are fics with dubious tags. I am a pretty open-minded reader and I’ve read my sizeable share of dark, disturbing fics so if you see tags not for you, move along.
I won't tag side ships unless they're tagged as the main relationship too
Also, I’ll intersperse some personal comments/observation if I feel like it. Usually I have these if a fic is particularly good or if I love how it's written  😊
Here's the link to my previous fic rec post: My Ultimate Jikook One-shot Fic Rec
OKAY, LET’S GET IT!
You are my home | On-going (15/?) | by: Erika1694
Summary: Jungkook is an awkward guy who befriends his next door neighbour Taehyung. Things go well until Taehyung introduces him to Jimin after which Jungkook's world turns upside down and he starts questioning everything including his sexuality.
His Pup | On-going (7/?) | by:Cho_Ha
Summary:Park Jimin must be going crazy because there was no way this disheveled looking guy was the cute little puppy he used to feed everyday after his night shift at the restaurant. Or Park Jimin feeds a puppy and meets a naked-ass dude.
Eden Afterworld | On-going (22/?) | by:Hadefex
Summary:Driven by rage over the public execution of his law abiding parents, Jimin enters the elite military district under the guise of being a prized Omega Positive to come face-to-face with the one person he hates more than himself - High Commander Jeon Jungkook. In a world where being Neutral is about as useless as being dead, how far is Jimin willing to go to get revenge?
Comment: i LOVE the writer's big mind. this is ot5 before jikook happens tho ehehe so if ur not down with that, skip
My Honey, You Taste So Sweet | On-going (7/?) | by:MyHope (CutesyMe)
Summary:Where Jimin only wants to find his soulmate but there is a war threatening him every second of his life
PHASES | On-going (2/?) | by:disneykoo
Summary:It was 4:30pm on a sunny friday evening in the middle of Seoul with nobody noticing that Park Jimin, son of CEO Park Jaemin, got kidnapped in the span of 15 seconds.
Typhon.exe | On-going (5/?) | by:kookiepeach
Summary:When grey hat hacker Jeon Jungkook sees Park Jimin at a party, all he wants to do is find out just a little bit more.
Your heartbeats told me | Completed (27/27) | by:Linn_Linn
Summary:What starts off with hate, soon turns to something else as Jimin and Jungkook begin to meet in secret. But what happens when secrets no longer can be kept? Friends comes and goes, but what about soulmates?
Comment: OMG I LOVE THIS FIC SM!! the gay awakening, the jk POV, the character development, the twists UGH! love it
Stockholm Syndrome | On-going (9/15) | by:expensive_latTae
Summary:“P-please, I’m sorry, let me go!” “You’re mine now. I’ll only let you go in death Angel.” Jimin never understood the Jeon Mafia’s Heir’s twisted obsession with him, and when did the pulsing pain under his skin and the artificial cage he was locked up in become a sign of love.
Comment: I'm interested to see where this goes. Hopefully the writer hasn't abandoned this yet
I Want Your Heart, Not Just Body | On-going (27/?) | by:IlovewritingJikook
Summary:When his village is attacked, Jimin is captured made a slave where he is bought on a whim as a birthday gift, and his life takes a drastic turn. Third Prince, Jungkook receives a surprising birthday gift- a beautiful, human named, Jimin. But Jungkook has no use for a personal slave, however, Jungkook has no choice but to keep him. The Two find friendship and love when they least expect it but can love between a vampire and a slave survive the lies, deceit, and betrayal that looms around every corner of the palace?
Kindred | On-going (2/?) | by:serendiplini
Summary:Jeon Jeongguk, heir of the illustrious Jeon Enterprises, is sent to a sleepy lakeside town to stake out a location for a new shopping mall. Unfortunately, his search quickly reaches a dead end—literally—when he learns the previous owner of the property has passed away with an iron grip on the deed to the land. Luckily for him, it just so happens that his eccentric innkeeper Park Jimin has a way of communicating with the dead. For a price, of course.
Soul Mates | On-going *Abandoned?* (8/?) | by:SomewhereAnywhere
Summary:Jeon Jeongguk, heir of the illustrious Jeon Enterprises, is sent to a sleepy lakeside town to stake out a location for a new shopping mall. Unfortunately, his search quickly reaches a dead end—literally—when he learns the previous owner of the property has passed away with an iron grip on the deed to the land. Luckily for him, it just so happens that his eccentric innkeeper Park Jimin has a way of communicating with the dead. For a price, of course.
the heart of a siren | Completed (16/16) | by:namakemono
Summary:Beware of what you take from the sea. She is not a treasure to be plundered, but a dark, vast void that will swallow you up and think nothing of it.
Comment: What a damn wonderful fic. The merman!JM fic I've always wanted to read. Loved the writing, the plot and how each character was portrayed.
Blood, Love & Tears | On-going *Abandoned?* (9/?) | by:Iamconfusion
Summary:You would think Jimin's life is like any other broke, 23 years old university student.
He has the craziest bestfriends.
He works a waitersjob at a highclass club.
He caught the interest of Jeon Jungkook.
Maybe it’s not so ordinary afterall.
This is Another Jikook Mafia au.
Comment: I hate that the writer seems to have abandoned this but good lord this fic is HOT.
The Lost Kingdom of Crows | On-going (7/10) | by:Priska
Summary:Jimin, who belongs to the widely spread kingdom of swans, falls in love with the youngest heir of a small noble family despite knowing they can never be. Jungkook, the youngest and wildest Prince of the crows, doesn't care about rules and restrictions. Wars and politics. He wants Jimin anyway. He wants him, even if it results in a curse that'll follow them through time and into a different reality.
Comment: Cute fic.
Life As a Beta | On-going (4/?) | by:lapetitemortjm
Summary:“Who wanted to present as a Beta?” Park Jimin had shit for luck when his unrequited love happened to be Jeon Jeongguk, an Alpha.
Dark Paradise | Completed (13/13) | by:makimonojjk
Summary:Park Jimin has life sorted. He does. He has a good job, a lovely wife and two beautiful kids. When he starts working at one of the most dangerous prisons in Seoul, he begins to question many of his life choices. When a certain inmate, Jeon Jeongguk, gets into his head and makes him rethink his whole life he knows he's in big trouble.
Comment: I enjoyed this fic sm. I loved the unique setting and ohhh myy JM is so hot in this one.
Arrangement Null And Void | Completed (15/15) | by:Holymotherofduck
Summary:Jungkook is the prince of the north. Dutiful to his position and passionate about his kingdom. When his parents announce they have found him a partner he is not surprised it is a member of the south kingdom. They had spoken for years on a union between the two sides of their country. What he does not expect is for that person to be a prince, in the same position he is and with the same passion. Prince Park Jimin. Unfortunately their views differ greatly and Jungkook has little respect for the south's soft approach, but Jimin is a prince just like him and will not stand by and let him have his way.
Comment: Nice plot progression.
Nemesis: Love | Completed (18/18) | by:AttilaTheHun
Summary:Park Jimin works hard, and everyone knows it. His boss likes him, his coworkers adore him, and he knows it's just a matter of time until he graduates from the ranks of the desk farm and into something better. All he has to do is conquer every single feeling of inadequacy he's ever had. Simple enough. Job-stealing newcomer Jeon Jeongguk doesn't seem to work for much of anything at all, and he's more than arrogant enough for them both. But he's certainly well-connected, tall and rich and good at everything. Jimin hates him on sight, and by the end of the first week he's sure they're eternal enemies. And sure, Jeongguk may be cute, even hot underneath his suits, but Jimin doesn't care about that. Not at all.
Comment: They say this is the must-read office!KM fic.
The Scent of Lemons | Completed (1/1) | by:Portent
Summary:There's Jimin, a dog, a duck and a tree. There's Jungkook, a little prejudiced, a little clueless and a whole lot gorgeous. Then there's this thing called love. Sometimes it hits like a truck and sometimes it blows like a gentle breeze.
Comment: The writing is awesome! This fic is too cute for words and literally JM is so cute here with his lil pets :D
a dose of salt | On-going (9/10) | by:Daisyjjang
Summary:Park Jimin is a renown cardiothoracic surgeon—a genius, a medical prodigy, the best surgeon at the hospital. He’s kind, friendly, handsome, and patient. He’s also the son of the hospital’s Chairman. But nobody needs to know that since he’s worked for and earned everything he’s accomplished on his own without the help of nepotism. Everyone loves him. Everyone but Jeon Jungkook, the hot new military trauma surgeon straight out of the army. The decorated veteran is brilliant and quick witted, but has a hot temper and absolutely zero tolerance for bullshit. When Park Jimin makes a bad first impression on him, things get extremely salty between the two very different personalities.
Comment: From one of my fave twitter AU writers, she never disappoints. The medical!KM fic y'all should read. Don't be bothered by the remaining chapter, I think it's only an epilogue to the story anyway.
Okay, this is it for now! I'll create part 2 in a while. Let me know if you loved any of these! Enjoyyy! Thanks!!
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gimmeyoon · 5 years
Text
Drink About [1]
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       ↳ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader x Jin
       ↳ Setting: College AU
       ↳ Word Count: 4.3k
       ↳ Warnings: mentions of binge drinking, language
       ↳ Songs: Waste It One Me by Steve Aoki ft. BTS and Hands by the Vamps
       ❝you just wanted to get drunk and dance and now he’s all you think about❞
| Next
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    There’s nothing quite as humbling as vomiting in a fraternity bathroom with two people getting it on in the stall next to you.
    Sana hits at the stall wall as if that will stop the wild animals from doing exactly what they came here to do. Joy tries to sooth you as she pulls your hair out of your face, but she’s so drunk and it’s clear she wishes she was anywhere else at this point. You have to agree with her on that.
    If your life was a cheesy teen romantic comedy, a record would scratch and an older, wiser version of yourself would say, ‘I’m sure you’re wondering how I wound up in this mess.” Though, you figure no one would stay to watch a movie that starts this utterly disgusting. The prop department could have at least mopped the floor before letting your bare ass sit on tiles hopefully made sticky by spilt alcohol, though the moment of sobriety that comes as one is barfing up their brains tells you that’s only one of the residues at best. You suppose the fashion department wouldn’t have let you walk on set without underwear under your dress the way that Joy and Sana had.
    “Honestly, _____, fuck him,” Sana says, abandoning her attempt to stop the actual fucking happening right next to you. “If he’s already with Chaeyoung, then he’s an even bigger fuckboy than any of us thought, and we do not cry over fuckboys.”
    You wonder if you’re supposed to respond as you dry heave next to your friend, but figure Sana will understand. She does have a point though, your makeup is absolutely ruined at this point, which is more than he deserves.
    It’s a process. Sitting in front of your mirror on a Friday night, you carefully beat your face to the gods in preparation for your favorite part of the week. It’s the same every time, the plans slightly different, but the process the same. Your shift at the gym’s reception desk ends at 5:00 and you head back to your apartment where you become slightly jealous at the sight of Joy napping on the couch and head back to your room. You stare at your closest until you figure out which of your outfits sparks joy, Marie Kondo style, and then you grab your tools. You turn on one of your favorite beauty guru’s videos and then the craft begins.
    Joy never misses a chance to tease you about the pure time commitment this process is, but you haven’t been late to a pregame yet.
    Now in your second year of college, you can say without a doubt that this process is the highlight of your week. Sure, occasionally something happens that outshines it, but it’s a constant. You have three hours secured to yourself where it’s just you and tasks that at the end of the day mean very little, but when finished, you have something to show for yourself. It’s about the only productive thing you allow on Friday night.
    You surprise your friends back home with how often you go out, but you promised yourself after a failing your first class Freshmen year due to the sheer amount of time you spent with your friends that you would focus completely on school work during the week and that on the weekend you would let yourself be free and unstructured. Joy and Sana knew better than anyone how hard it was to get you to deviate from your color-coded planner for even the tiniest thing. They liked to joke that if they didn’t schedule getting fries at McDonald’s with you three weeks in advance, there wouldn’t be an opening. They weren’t that far off.
    The weekend was different. It was the only time you let yourself give into the part of your soul that screamed to live life on the edge.
    That was how you had ended up at Beta Tau Sigma months ago with Joy and Sana by your side. You were standing in the kitchen talking to the one member of the fraternity that Joy knew when you saw him for the first time.  
    Well, for the first time in person. You had followed Jungkook on Instagram after one of your friends had tagged him in their photo. He had followed back, and you could always count on a like from him on your posts.
    You grabbed Joy’s arm when you saw him, drawing everyone’s attention towards yourself and the deer in headlights look you could only imagine was on your face.
    “What,” Hoseok asked as he followed your gaze. “You look like you saw a ghost. Do I need to kick some asshole out?”
    “No, sorry. I-I thought I saw someone, but I was wrong.”
    “You sure? Taehyung’s too nice, he’ll just let anyone in.”
    You smiled as you released your grip on Joy’s arm. “Seriously, it was nothing. I think I just need a drink.”
    Hoseok nodded and motioned upstairs. “We keep the good stuff upstairs, and since Joy is the only reason I’m going to pass the human machine, you guys are welcome to it. Consider it my penance.”
    “Oh, so you know penance, but an introductory biology class is too much?” Joy teased as you followed Hoseok.
    “My dad’s a literature professor so he used big words at dinner and made us figure them out. I learned penance when I hid my sister’s laptop in the attic.” Hoseok leads you into the first room on the right and pulls back a curtain to reveal a fully stocked bar. “Jimin’s really into mixology and also showing off his money. So, help yourself,” he said with a dramatic bow.
    “Hoseok, when I say you’re my hero, I want you to really hear me,” you said. “You are my hero and two shots from now, I will tell you that repeatedly.”
    “She’s a very nice drunk,” Sana confirms as she pulls a bottle of tequila from the bar. She pours four shots from the bottle and after those have been forced down, she pours another four.
     That’s how you find the courage to move onto the dance floor, an act that normally doesn’t require much liquid confidence. It’s also an act that doesn’t usually include being as close to Jungkook as it currently has you.
     “Joy,” you start with a giggle. “How many times do I have to look at Jeon Jungkook for him to get the message that I want to put my ass on his dick and pose on that shit?”
     “Firstly, if you ever quote a New Boyz song in presence again, you will be excommunicated from our apartment. Secondly, I think it’s going to take more than a look to communicate all of that.”
    “Not if I have very expressive eyes,” you say with a wiggle of your eyebrows.
    “If you do that, he’ll file a restraining order with the college,” Joy laughs.
    “Joy,” you whine.
    “_____,” she teases. “Seriously, you are a 21st century woman, just tell that boy that you want to dance.”
    “If he says no, I can never show my face here again, you know that, right?”
    “We’ll throw the whole fraternity away if we have to, babe.”
    You decide that a sensible person would at least wait for the song to change before making their move, so three songs later you turn to acquire your target. He’s standing with one of his friends, Jimin you think, and you hate how good he looks. He’s in all black, like he usually is, but the dance room is so hot that his normally straight hair now frames his face in waves. You push back the thought that this is what his hair would look like after sex and make your way across the floor. He’s just a boy, you remind yourself the closer you get. Then you’re there, and you realize you probably should have practiced what you were going to say to him during the previous three songs. And now as Usher guides your movements, it’s too late.
    He looks over as you approach and he offers you a smile, which you know is meant to be inviting, but he looks so damn good that it makes your arms break out in goosebumps.
    “Hi,” you manage with a smile.
    “Hi.”
    You think you might let the silence fall for a beat too long, because Jungkook’s friend that may or may not be named Jimin has the time to look between the two of you before you continue.
    “I follow you on Instagram,” is out of your mouth before you can stop it, and you can feel your ears visibly redden once you realize how stupid that sounds.
     He laughs and you pray to whatever god might be listening that he wasn’t laughing at you.
     “I follow you too,” he says.
     “Thanks for that,” you cringe. It’s silent again for a beat too long, but then you think some god must have been listening, because his friend becomes your second hero of the night.
     “He’d love to dance with you,” Maybe Jimin says as he pushes Jungkook in your direction, and that’s exactly the intervention you need to reach out for his hand.
      You pull Jungkook through the crowd of people and begin to dance with him as soon as you find a spot that doesn’t make you feel claustrophobic. You think for a second how ironic it is to find an open space when you place your hips flush with his and begin to dance to whatever overplayed song the fraternity brother playing DJ has chosen.
      He’s a better dancer than you would have guessed, his hips moving heavenly with the music, and the way he hardens beneath you helps heighten the confidence the alcohol gave you. His body is strong behind yours, and for a moment you wish you hadn’t had so much to drink because then you might have invited him back to your place to see what his body felt like on top of yours.
    It’s four songs later when the sound of his name breaks your heart.
    “Jeon!” Someone yells, from across the room, causing Jungkook to pull away from you and search for his friend. He must find him when he grabs your hand and pulls you with him. The culprit is smiling as you meet him and motions for you to follow him. “We need two more for beer pong and it’s time for you to put your money where your mouth is.”
    Jungkook looks back at you, “Do you want to play?”
    Considering your options appear to be leaving Jungkook to writhe around in the dance room with some other people that you are absolutely no longer interested in or play a drinking game with Jungkook and potentially speak to him about something other than the fact that you follow him on Instagram, you do not hesitate to say yes.
    You find out two things about Jungkook very quickly. Firstly, he is very good at beer pong and secondly, he is very competitive, which the first thing helps.
    “Taehyung is going to regret asking us to play,” Jungkook smiles as he hands you a ping pong ball.
    “Less trash talking, and more playing, yeah?” Taehyung raises an eyebrow.
     “Don’t rush my partner, yeah?” Jungkook copies Taehyung’s stature, and you can’t help but laugh at how theatrical he is.
     “Patience is a virtue, young Taehyung,” you say as you aim for a red solo cup.
     The ball lands in the drink with a satisfying slosh and Jungkook high-fives your success. It’s five more games of this and then your stomach betrays you. No longer are you focused on winning. No, now you are focused on feeding whatever beast entered your system with the alcohol.
     “Jungkook,” you start. “How do you feel about shenanigans?”
     His head tilts to the side as he looks at you. “Shenanigans?”
     “Do you trust me?”
     He smiles and nods his head. “Lead the way, Captain,” he says with a salute.
     Your fingers intertwine with his as you lead him out of the fraternity house and onto the streets.
     “Shenanigans,” you say turning around to look at him, continuing to walk backwards, “are what happens after the party. Anything can be a shenanigan if you really set your mind to it.”
     “And what does tonight have in store for us,” he asks.
     “Well, Jungkook, I hope you’re hungry. Because it’s waffle time.”
     “Lucky for you,” he laughs. “I’m always hungry.”
     You laugh as well as you turn in a circle. When you stop your whirling, you find Jungkook’s arms braced, clearly ready to catch you.
     “You’re going to fall, drunkie.”
     “Please call me by my government name, Drunkard Joseph Montgomery Alabama the third.”
     “Wow, that is a name.”
     “Thank you, it was my father’s and his father’s before him.”
     “Thus, the third.”
     “Thus, the third,” You laugh.
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     The fluorescent lights of your local Waffle House should make Jungkook look slightly worse for wear as you know they are doing to you and as they do to most humans, but clearly Jungkook is not like the rest of the mere mortals that roam this Earth, because you swear to god his eyes sparkle as he looks at the plastic menu before him. He keeps switching between the breakfast and the lunch/dinner side of the menu, mumbling under his breath that his not sure which he’s in the mood for at the moment.
    You do not face the same problem, as you order the All-Star breakfast every time. There has never been a moment where you have sat in these yellow booths and not wanted waffles. You figure if the establishment is named after a specific food, you should probably order that food, and you’re just about to tell Jungkook as much when he sets his menu down and looks up at you.
    “I have decided,” he said, his tone serious.
    “Do tell.”
    “Burger,” he smiled.
    “Wrong.”
    His face falls at this. “Wrong?”
    “We’re at Waffle House, the only right answer is waffles.”
    “Wrong,” he responds, copying your tone from before. “They sell more than just waffles; therefore, you are meant to order things other than waffles as well.”
     “Okay, IHOB.”
     “What did you just call me?” he asks, his face breaking into a large smile.
     “IHOB, as in the International House of Burgers,” you stick your tongue out, which earns a laugh from your companion. “When in Rome, order waffles.”
     “I don’t think that’s the saying,”
     “I don’t think this is a burger establishment.”
     The waitress approaches your booth at this moment, and Jungkook quickly places his burger order, sticking his tongue out at you as she writes his burger on the ticket.
     “And since I’m a responsible adult, I’ll be having the All-Star breakfast,” you said when it was your turn to order.
    The waitress nods as she writes down your order, “Bacon, sausage, or ham.”
    “Sausage, please.”
    “Wrong,” Jungkook responds as the waitress walks away. “The only valid choice when bacon is an option is bacon.”
    “Oh, grow up,” you roll your eyes. “Sausage is a valid option.”
    He shakes his head, “Only when bacon isn’t available.”
    “Pretty bold talk from a guy who might be asking me to choose his sausage later.”
     He reddens at this, his eyes widening, but never leaving your face. The words were out of your mouth before you could think better, and you’re pretty sure the only reason you don’t get up and leave is because you’re still pretty drunk.
     Jungkook shakes his head, as a smile spreads across his face. “I don’t think any bacon will be present at that moment, so sausage would be a valid choice.”
     You can’t help but laugh at this, and Jungkook joins you. You talk about school after you calm down, and you’ve started to talk about your hometowns by the time the waitress brings your meals. You both shake your heads at the other’s order, causing the laughter to return, and it takes a few moments before you can actually begin to eat.
     You’re almost finished with your waffle, when you realize everyone else in the restaurant is focused on the staff behind the counter. Jungkook is telling you a story about his older brother, but you can’t focus as you try and figure out what has everyone’s attention. You’re not sure if it’s the fact that you’re drunk, or the fact that talking to Jungkook comes so naturally, but you’ve completely missed the altercation brewing between the staff. Their voices get louder with each word, and before it can get any worse, you take money out of your wallet, quickly making sure that it is enough to cover both meals plus the tip and stand up. You reach for Jungkook’s hand, while he stares up at you dumbfounded, and you make your way for the door. You’re just about to make it out, when one of the employees finally makes contact with the other. You freeze at the action, and stand stunned, not sure if you’re waiting to see if he’s okay or if anyone will do anything to stop it. The next thing you know, the punched employee, is grabbing the other by the shirt and throwing him against the counter.
    Jungkook takes action at this, pulling you out the door with him and through the parking lot. You turn to look at Jungkook with wide eyes, not sure how your shenanigan ended up quite like this.
    “Holy shit,” he breathes, as he rakes a hand through his hair. “I guess that’s Waffle House at 2:00 a.m. for you.”
    You can’t help but laugh at this, though you feel a bit of guilt considering how awful the situation is. Jungkook smiles at this and for that alone you’re glad that you laughed.
    “Come on,” you say, as you look at your surroundings. “There’s a river around here, I want to show you.”
    Jungkook follows, not having dropped your hand yet, and you walk like this in the direction of the park you like to go to sometimes. It’s pitch-black as you near the location, which causes you to grip Jungkook’s hand a bit tighter than before. If he’s as nervous as you, he doesn’t let on, but he does pull his phone from his pocket and turn his flashlight on, which you are thankful for. Your pace quickens after this, the excitement of showing Jungkook the river driving you forward, and when you arrive, you drop his hand before skipping towards the bank.
    You turn around to face him, positively beaming as you stretch your arms as if to say here it is, the grand finale, and Jungkook matches your wide smile. He walks towards you, as you bend down to take your shoes off. When you look back up, he’s looking at you with confusion on his face.
    “Well, I’m not going to wear my shoes into the water,” you answered.
    “We’re going in the water?”
    “Shenanigans, Jungkook. They’re not done yet,” you said, as you turned around and made your way into the river. The silence of the night is inviting, and you find yourself closing your eyes and leaning your head back in relaxation. You hear Jungkook wade in behind you, and you only open your eyes when his movement stops.
    He’s looking at you and he smiles when your eyes meet his. “How did you find this place?”
    “I used to babysit these kids freshmen year, and their mom took them to this park.”
    “I haven’t really left campus that much,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’d be nice to run here though.”
    You nod in agreement, turning to look up at the few stars above. Jungkook reaches for your hand in the dark, and you reach back, feeling comforted by his presence here. You think for a moment that it’s nice that you two can just stand here in the silence like this, and you’re about to say something to that effect, when suddenly Jungkook sends a wave of water hurtling towards you. You’re shocked when you look down to see him crouched, ready to splash you again.
    “Shenanigans,” he says, simply, as he launches another attack on you.
    This time you’re prepared, and you block your face, though it does very little to help. Quickly, you’re crouching as well, not one to go down without a fight, and soon both of you are soaking wet and breathless. Jungkook’s hair hangs heavy around his face, water dripping from his black locks onto his cheeks, and you hate to even think about the state that your makeup is in now.
    The smirk on Jungkook’s face, tells you all you need to know, and you shake your head in response. “I look like a monster, right?”
    “You could convincingly be cast in a horror movie.”
     You give him the middle finger at this, before trudging back to land. You’re about halfway back, when you hear Jungkook running after you, and as you turn around to see what he is doing, he’s wrapping his arms around your middle and picking you up.
     “Jeon Jungkook!” you scream, as you pound at his back. “Put me down.”
     He only laughs in response, carrying you the rest of the way to the shore. He finally complies with your demand, placing you underneath a tree. He sits down, and when you don’t immediately follow, he pats the space beside him, looking up at you with big eyes.
    You chuckle as you join him at the base of the tree, and he smiles triumphantly.
    “Maybe it’s too soon to call, but I think I might be better at shenanigans than you.”
    You scoff. “You made me look like the grudge. That is foul play and not allowed during a night of shenanigans.”
    “Oh, excuse me. I was under the impression that there was only one rule and that was to have fun.”
    “I am not having fun.”
    “You’re not?” he frowns. “I don’t know, seemed like you were having fun.”
    “Nope, not anymore. I spent too much time and money on this makeup to consider this fun.”
    “What a shame,” he smiles. “I kind of like this look.”
    “Really?” you deadpan.
    “Yeah, it says ‘just know that if you ever break up with me, I will murder your ass.’”
    “Oh, good. That’s the energy I want to be putting out into the world.”
    Jungkook laughs. “You’re very welcome for helping you achieve your truest form.”
    You’re silent for a beat after this, both of you smiling widely at each other, and you think that you are in no rush to get home. You think that he may lean in and kiss you, because he keeps looking down at your lips, and he moves slightly forward, but his eyes completely leave yours, and he’s reaching for something on the ground instead.
    You’re about to stand up and leave, your new found sobriety horrified that you might have just embarrassed yourself, but then Jungkook is looking at you again and smiling.
   “A geode,” he said, bring a rock between the two of you. “My dad and I used to collect this when I was little.”
   You nod your head, not sure what to say because your brain just keeps screaming about how much of an idiot you are but also how cute he is, and it’s too much for you to come up with a reasonable response.
    “For you,” he smiles widely, as he reaches for your hand and places the rock into it. “Never forget our shenanigans.”
     “Never,” you agree, bringing the hand holding the rock to your heart.
      He beams at this and then stands up. “We should probably try and get home before the sun rises.”
     You nod your head, though you don’t agree. You would stay out here until the sun set again if you got to keep talking to Jungkook.  You begin the walk back to campus, showing Jungkook a shortcut you had found a few months ago, and when Jungkook should veer off to head back to his fraternity house, he keeps going straight with you. You try to fight the blush that creeps up your neck as you realize this.
    He’s talking animatedly about something Taehyung did a few weekends ago when you finally make it to your apartment. He seems to hesitate for a moment, but then he’s smiling and staying firmly on his side of the hallway.
   “Thanks for walking me back,” you said finally.
   “Of course,” he nods. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”
    You nod your head as well, a bit disappointed that yet again he isn’t attempting to kiss you, and you think for a moment that maybe this meant way more to you than it did to him.
   “Tight,” he said. “Then I better get going. Goodnight, _____.”
   “Goodnight, Jungkook.” You watched as he walked down the hallway towards the exit, and once he was out of sight you unlock the front door and make you way inside.
     You sigh as you kick off your shoes and make your way further into the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water. You’re taking your first sip when there’s a knock at the door. You check quickly to see who it is, and your heart races as familiar doe eyes stare back at you. Goosebumps cover your arms as you open the door.
   “Sorry, I just-” he nervously rubs at the back of his neck. “I forgot something,” he said, as he closed the distance between the two of you and pulled you into a kiss. Your damp clothes rub awkwardly against your body, and Jungkook’s burger breath catches you more off guard than the kiss itself, yet still you melt in his arms, and you think this is the kind of thing people write songs about.
    And when he’s pulling away, you think you want to capture the way he looks at you in a photo and look at it all day long.
    “Goodnight again, _____.”
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101 notes · View notes
twdeadfanfic · 5 years
Text
It’s a dog’s life Pt.10
*Summary: The reader is new and alone at the quarry’s camp, the only one she has is her dog, who seems to be best friends with Daryl Dixon, a not so friendly man, but that friendship will bring the reader closer to Daryl, finding that there’s more to Daryl than what you can see at first glance…besides, he’s pretty hot at first glance, isn’t him?
*Slow burn, both reader and Daryl’s pov, violence and language twd style.Follows the events of season 1 and 2.
*4112 words
*Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader
Chapters: 10/14
*Link to my masterlist with my other works can be found on the description of this blog. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but tumblr doesn’t show posts with links in the tags
Last chapter Daryl got hurt looking for Sophia and the reader has alternated between keeping an eye on him and going looking for Sophia. but she hasn’t had much luck at it...
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In just a day, Hershel declared Daryl good enough to leave the house, though he still had to rest on his tent and shouldn’t move too much or he might pop a stitch. Daryl was recovering fast, sure, but you also knew Hershel didn’t like to have your people in his house. Carl was on his feet too and running around already, to everyone’s relief.
You were cleaning the stables and tending to the horses, all of you were working around the farm to try and gain Hershel to your side, and you were trying to make up for having taken the horses too. As soon as you finished, you intended to go check on Daryl. Cole had been with you for a while, but now he had disappeared and you had a feeling of where he might be.
Your guess had been right, you saw him running away from Daryl’s tent to catch a small stick that had landed not too far from the tent and which probably Daryl had thrown him from inside. Cole took the stick and walked into the tent, you behind him.
“Hi, there.” You greeted, kneeling down inside the tent. Daryl gave you a nod and a hum, taking the stick and scratching Cole’s head, who just seemed to realize you were there, barking as a greeting and licking your hand. You noticed a book on the ground next to Daryl and you picked it up. “What you got there?”
“Andrea gave it to me earlier.”
You read the summary, it seemed to be some sort of detectives and crimes thing. You were pretty sure you had read through all of Dale’s books but it seemed you had missed that one. It seemed like a good way to pass the time.
“Want me to read it to you?”
“I can read it myself.” Daryl snapped.
“I know.” You rolled your eyes and nudged his leg with your foot. “I just thought it could be fun. But whatever.”
Daryl glanced at you for a split of a second, fidgeting with the stick he had been throwing to Cole, before lying down on his sleeping bag.
“Okay…read it if you want…” He said quietly. You opened the book and started reading it aloud.
You didn’t stop until it was time for dinner, almost having gone through the whole book.
“We’ll finish it tomorrow, alright?”
*
Next morning you were all having breakfast outside your tents, Daryl included. He looked so much better than a couple of days ago, though you knew his wound was still bothering him. Breakfast was delicious, a scramble made by Carol with fresh eggs, and you tried to enjoy it despite the tense and silent atmosphere around you. Whatever was going in on in the group, you didn’t really feel like getting involved, you just wanted to stay focused on Sophia’s search.
“Guys…” You hadn’t finished your scramble when Glenn began to speak, looking nervous. “So…there are walkers in the barn.”
You couldn’t believe it until you saw it, but it was true, you could see a group of walkers locked inside the barn and you couldn’t figure out why in the world would Hershel keep them there, and you had the feeling that asking him wouldn’t end up good. Apparently, according to Dale who somehow knew it, Hershel thought those walkers were his sick family and friends and therefore he wouldn’t kill them. You already had told Maggie about the CDC and Rick had done the same to Hershel, waiting for a cure was delusional, yet it didn’t seem like it would change the Greene’s mind.
A fight broke between Shane and Rick, since one wanted to clear the barn while Rick thought that would only make Hershel kick you out of the farm. You agreed with Rick, you were already on thin ice with Hershel, but living next to a barn full of walkers didn’t sound like the safest thing.
You could leave the farm, but you hated the idea of going back to the road without a destination, probably only to find that Fort Benning and everything else were gone forever, you couldn’t be sure you would find another heaven like that farm. Besides, you couldn’t leave without Sophia.
Turned out it seemed Shane could, as he thought there was no way you would find Sophia by now, much less alive. You knew how many days had passed, you knew how dangerous the world was, and if you had been less enraged at Shane for saying something like that in front of Carol and seeing tears coming to her eyes, you might have thought he had a point.
“Shut your mouth!” You snapped at Shane.
“I’m close to finding this girl. I just found her damn doll two days ago!” Daryl came from behind you to get on Shane’s face.
“You found her doll, Daryl. That’s what you did. You found a doll.” Shane snapped back. “I’m just saying what needs to be said. You get a good lead, it’s in the first 48 hours.”
Both men were glaring at each other and you were sure a fight was going to break between them so you stepped between them to try and stop them even though you wanted to punch Shane yourself, you didn’t want Daryl getting hurt and worsening his injuries, and if those two started fighting probably the situation would escalate too much. Rick came to stand at your side, trying to calm them down too.
“Let me tell you something else, man. If she was alive out there and saw you coming all methed out with your buck knife and geek ears around your neck, she would run in the other direction.”
Daryl tried to throw himself at Shane at that but the others rushed to try and pull both men apart. You couldn’t believe Shane would say something like that after all Daryl had done trying to find Sophia. You saw red, anger rising inside you, and you went for Shane, pushing him as hard as you could.
“Y/N!” Lori, who had been dragging Shane away from Daryl, looked at you wide-eyed but you didn’t even hear her.
“What the hell did you just say?!” You yelled at Shane, pushing him again. He was looking at you seeming too surprised to do anything. “You haven’t done shit to try and find Sophia, Daryl’s been there every day and organizing everything, so shut your mouth or I’ll make you shut it!”
“Why don’t we all calm down?” Andrea dragged you away from Shane and you didn’t resist, you could hear the walkers banging the doors of the barn, excited by the commotion going outside.
The discussion kept going about what to do, Dale seemed sure Hershel would never let you clear the barn, but Rick told everybody he would talk to Hershel. It wasn’t like you could do much else, if you cleared those walkers you would not only be kicked out of the farm but also couldn’t keep looking for Sophia from a safe place.
You saw Daryl storming away and you followed him. “Hey, hey wait.” Daryl didn’t stop, heading to his tent, and you tried to keep his pace. “Shane was talking bullshit.”
“Leave me alone, Y/N.” Daryl snapped and you tried not to take it to heart, knowing he was upset. Maybe he needed to be alone and so you stopped following him.
There were people on watch on the barn while Rick tried to sort things out with Hershel. Shane was one of them and you didn’t feel like facing him again so you walked away. You looked for Maggie, wanting to confront her about the barn. You tried to think about what to say so your temper wouldn’t get the best of you and you ended up lashing at her instead of just trying to have an actual talk.
“Maggie, hey, hum…let’s talk.” You maybe sounded more demanding than you had intended, but you didn’t think it was a bad start, you weren’t snapping or anything.
“You all know about the barn.” Maggie rolled her eyes before glaring at you. “I knew that idiot couldn’t have his mouth shut!”
“What did you expect him to do, we sleep there! We could be walkers dinner at any moment!” Your resolution to try to stay calm was soon gone. “How insane is to keep walkers in the barn?!”
“You know nothing!” Maggie snapped.
“No, you know nothing!” You snapped back. “You haven’t seen the things I’ve seen! I told you about the CDC already, your father is delusional thinking they’re sick people waiting for a cure…there’s no cure, there’s nothing, they’re dead!”
“You don’t understand it!” By know you knew Maggie’s temper was usually at par with yours, she’d stood her ground in your previous arguments, so you were shocked to notice her eyes watering. “Those you call monsters are my family!”
“They are people no more, they are dead…think about it and I know you’ll see it.” Your voice had softened, you didn’t have the heart to yell at her anymore. “It’s dangerous. We all have lost people…they’re gone, those are just bodies. And they aren’t coming back.”
Maggie said nothing, just shook her head and you didn’t see a point on keep pushing it. You could just hope Rick could make Hershel understand it, but you weren’t hopeful at all.
“Hey…Glenn did what he did to protect us, but he’s all head over heels with you.” You said softly. “Don’t go hard on him.”
“We’ll see about that…”
*
You were throwing sticks at Cole, not knowing what to do with yourself, when you saw Carol approaching you. She seemed upset and like she had been crying so you rushed to her, your head full of the worst scenarios about Sophia.
“What’s wrong?!”
“It’s Daryl…” Carol said and you blinked in surprise at that. “I found him on the stables, trying to get a horse ready to go looking for Sophia, but you know he’s not good enough, he’s still hurt.” You shook your head at his stubbornness. “And I’m grateful he’s looking but he already got hurt, I didn’t want him getting worse…he didn’t like it when I told him…”
You could imagine and you reached out to take Carol’s hand. “Don’t be upset, he’s an idiot sometimes.”
“I know.” Carol gave you a sad smile. “But he’s a good man and I don’t want him hurting himself…can you check on him so he doesn’t try to go again? Maybe you’ll have better luck than me.”
You let out a sigh. Babysitting Daryl when he was upset and angered didn’t sound like the best plan, but you were concerned Carol was right and Daryl might try again to go looking for Sophia when he was still recovering.
“Alright…maybe my dog will have better luck than I.”
You found Daryl inside his tent, fidgeting with an arrow, stabbing it in an out of one of the tent’s nets…it didn’t seem he was in the best mood, and he glared at you when he noticed you approaching but you kept going anyway, crouching down and getting inside the tent.
“Get out!” Daryl didn’t lose time to snap at you.
“Tell me that at least the horse you were trying to take wasn’t the one who threw you.” You tried to stay unfazed by his anger. “I mean, I’m not sure if you’d be sensible like that considering you just tried to leave, alone, riding a horse while still having stitches on your side, you know.”
“Leave me alone.” He growled.
“Okay. But if you try to do something like that again I’m not letting you.”
“I don’t need your permission or nothing, girl, you ain’t gonna babysit me, now leave me the hell alone!” Daryl threw away the arrow he had been playing with, angry, and Cole barked excitedly and ran to pick up the arrow as if he thought Daryl was playing with him. You rolled your eyes, maybe those two got along so well because they were idiots sometimes.
“You worried Carol, Daryl, she’s afraid you’ll hurt yourself…”
“I ain’t hurting myself! That bitch should be worrying about her damn daughter and not about me!”
“What the hell did you just call her?!” Now you were angry. “Daryl Dixon you might be my friend but if I ever hear you calling another woman that, I’m gonna smack you in the head so hard it’ll be worse than when Andrea shoot you.”
That seemed to silence Daryl, if only because he was surprised at your outburst. He averted his eyes from you and began fidgeting with the arrow that Cole had brought back, slightly chewed.
“Don’t know why she’d care anyway…” He mumbled.
“Because you’ve been looking for her little girl non-stop, giving her hope...because you’re a good man, Daryl, even though sometimes you’re a prick. So yes, she cares for you and doesn’t want you to hurt yourself.”
“I wasn’t gonna hurt myself,” Daryl grumbled again and you didn’t bother to reply, let him have that. “Carol said we don’t know if we’re gonna find Sophia…she gave up…”
“She didn’t, it’s just…” You let out a sigh and flopped down to sat down on the floor of the tent. “I guess she’s trying to be ready in case the worse might happen or in case we have to leave…”
“She doesn’t think I can find her.”
“It’s not that.” You nudged his foot with yours gently. “If-when we find Sophia, it’ll be thanks to you.”
“Not if I’m here sitting on my ass doing nothing.” He sounded angry again. “I have to go looking for her, none else is gonna do it, not now with the barn and all.”
“Yell all you want but I’m not letting you go, you’re recovering.” Daryl seemed about to snap but you kept talking before he could. “I’ll go, okay? Right now, I’ll go looking for Sophia.”
Daryl seemed to think it for a moment and then he nodded reluctantly. “Are you taking Maggie with you?”
“Well…I’m not sure if she’s angry at me or not…” You hadn’t talked to her again. “Besides, she left with Glenn on a run. I’ll go by myself.”
“You shouldn’t go alone.” Daryl surprised you, you had thought he’d be rushing you to leave.
“Don’t think none is about to join me…” You shrugged, Daryl was right, everyone seemed too busy right now.
“I would.”
“You’re recovering.” You said again, making Daryl roll his eyes.
“You won’t go alone.”
“Okay…what if I try and get some of the others to help me with the search?” Only a couple of people were watching the barn, the others should be free to join the search and you planned to make them feel as guilty as possible if they didn’t volunteer.
“Alright…But if they don’t then I’m going with you.”
“We’ll see about that…” Daryl seemed mostly okay but you could see some blood on his shirt from when he had hurt himself trying to saddle the horse, he still should take it easy. “And no horses this time.”
Daryl said nothing to that, just shrugged and kept fidgeting with the arrow. You reached out to pull up his shirt, wanting to check on his wound, and Daryl flinched away from your hand, wincing as he did so.
“Sorry.” You rushed to apologize, pulling your hand off him. “You’re bleeding.”
“I’m fine.” He grumbled, though she frowned as he looked at the bloodstains as if noticing it for the first time.
“You might have popped a stitch…can I check it?” You reached out again but didn’t touch him until Daryl nodded. You lifted his shirt and carefully removed the soiled bandage to reveal his wound. It had bled a bit but it didn’t look bad. “I don’t know…maybe Hershel should check it…”
“No.”
“Alright, let me clean it a bit then.” You had ‘borrowed’ some disinfectant, gauzes, antibiotics and things like that from Hershel’s cabinet, in case he sent you all away. You felt bad about it, but it’d be worse if you were on the road again and didn’t have medical supplies.
Daryl raised an eyebrow at you when he saw you taking out of your bag some gauze and disinfectant, as if guessing where you had taken it from, but he said nothing. Pouring some disinfectant into the gauze, you cleaned the wound and applied a fresh bandage.
“There you go.” You finished cleaning and rebandaging him. You bit your lip thinking about how the arrow had gone through his side, impaling him. It was a wonder he was not only alive and recovering so fast but also how he had managed to go back to the farm all by himself. You didn’t want to think how close he had been of dying.
“Thanks,” Daryl said without looking at you and you both stayed silent for a while, Daryl back at fidgeting with the arrow and you busying yourself stroking Cole’s fur. Maybe it was time for you to leave, but you kept catching Daryl giving you side glances and you waited for him to speak.
“When you went for Shane…” He finally began, eyes trained on the ground. “I hadn’t seen you that angry since you threatened that doc with an ax.”
“Yeah, well, Shane was spitting a lot of bullshit.” You were still angry at him. “I can’t believe he’d say that about Sophia in front of Carol. I can’t believe he said those stupid things about you, either!” You felt like punching him even though you knew you wouldn’t stand a chance against Shane. “You know it was bullshit, right?” Daryl just shrugged, avoiding your gaze. “Well, it was.”
“Thanks.” He whispered, eyes still down.
“You’re my friend I’m going to stand for you, and Shane was a prick. I’m not letting anyone talk bullshit about you.” You stated, unashamed, you didn’t know when you had become so protective over Daryl but there it was. “You’re a prick sometimes too but I would never smack you, no matter what I said before, I won’t. But I’ll smack Shane if he ever says something like that again.”
His eyes snapped up to look at you at that, seeming surprised, and then his lips curled up into a lopsided, small smile. He should smile more often. He looked down quickly, blushing. “Thanks.”
“That thing he said about you wearing geek ears…was that true?” You wanted to have him talking about something else and you were genuinely curious. “Why?” You asked when he nodded.
“Thought it might mistake the smell to other geeks.”
“That’s so smart…you’re so smart.” You were always amazed at how resourceful and quick at thinking Daryl was.
“Stop.” He grumbled, blushing even more.
“But it’s true!”
“I don’t know if it works or not.”
“Smart anyway.”
Silence fell between you both until Daryl broke it again. “Shane’s lying about Otis, I think he left the man as bait or something like that.”
“Why?” You didn’t doubt Daryl but that sounded too bad even for Shane.
“His story doesn’t add up.” Daryl didn’t elaborate more and you didn’t ask. You knew how observant and smart he was, so if he was suspicious about Shane then probably he had a reason and wasn’t mistaken. The idea was too horrible to think about it, though. “I ain’t saying anything, the Greene’s would kick us out of here if they knew.”
“Hershel might kick us out anyway.” You let out a sigh. “Rick’s talking with him…I’m gonna see if he’s done to ask him to come looking for Sophia with me.”
“Alright.”
“You gotta apologize to Carol, okay?” You reminded him and Daryl shrugged.
“How?” He murmured sheepishly, sounding so childish it was adorable.
“Try saying sorry.” You retorted and Daryl rolled his eyes.
You kneeled up but before you crawled out of the tent you leaned over to kiss Daryl’s cheek, you just felt like it. Daryl looked at you with wide, surprised eyes before frowning.
“What was that for?”
You just shrugged, giving him a small smile before leaving his tent.
Rick found you before you found him, walking towards you with a map on his hand. “It’s time we go back to the search, come with me?”
“I was just looking for you to ask you the same…did you talk with Hershel? Is he kicking us out?”
“We’re not leaving.” Rick didn’t hold your gaze and it wasn’t exactly the answer to what you were asking, but for now, it’d have to be enough, he was already unfolding the map before you could say anything. “So what do you think, should we check this area?”
“Maybe…I could ask Daryl, he’ll know what’s the best plan.”
“Alright, you do that and I go see if someone else’s free to join us.” Rick patted your shoulder and headed away, and you went back to Daryl’s tent.
He was outside, pacing back and forth as he glanced nervously at the RV where you knew Carol was. You couldn’t help your small smile, he was so cute sometimes. “Just go and say sorry,” you said as you placed a hand on his arm. He flinched but relaxed when he saw it was you. “She’s your friend and cares about you, she’ll forgive you if you apologize.”
Daryl shrugged as if trying to show he didn’t care, but you knew better. You unfolded the map and pointed at the area Rick was telling you. “So Rick thinks we could check this area, we’re leaving in about an hour, what you think?”
“Yeah…” Daryl nodded. “We should check this other again too. I’ll go too.”
“Not happening.”
“I’m fine, I can walk so I can search for her.” Daryl rolled his eyes, seeming exasperated again. He was just so damn stubborn.
“Apologize to Carol and then we’ll see.”
You went looking for Rick but couldn’t find him anywhere. He couldn’t have just disappeared in a moment. You noticed Glenn and Maggie on the stairs of the porch, seeming to have made up, at least that was good.
“Have you seen Rick?” You asked when you approached them. “We were supposed to go looking for Sophia.”
“No, sorry.”
You let out a sigh and sat down to wait for him. Time passed and he still wasn’t showing up, and you didn’t know if you should be angry at him or worried. You noticed Daryl and Carol approaching, those two seeming to have made up too and you couldn’t help your smile.
“Weren’t we leaving?” Daryl asked, annoyed.
“Don’t know where Rick is.”
“Fine, we leave without him.” He scoffed.
Before any of you could say anything else, Shane approached you carrying a big bag full of guns which he began passing to everyone, saying how you needed to secure the place and deal with that barn before it was too late, ignoring Maggie and Lori asking him to stop. You wanted the farm to be safe, sure, but doing what Shane intended to do would just cause more trouble and Hershel would never forgive it.
Cole growled, nervous, and you grabbed him by his collar, trying to calm him.
“This is not a good idea.” You grabbed Daryl’s arm with your free hand when he took one of the rifles, you thought he might yank his arm free but he didn’t, turning to look at you. “Hershel will kick us out for sure.”
“What the hell is that?”
You all followed Shane’s gaze to find Hershel and Rick walking towards the barn and you couldn’t believe your eyes but they had a walker with them in some sort of lash, as if they were walking it to the barn…did Hershel collect them there? What was that? You hadn’t thought the man insane, just delusional, but this was too much.
Shane ran to them, yelling at them, you all running behind…and then the storm began. Shane was out of control, yelling and shooting at the walker, and before any of you could do anything he had opened the barn, walkers stumbling out.
“Y/N, don’t let the dog go to them!” Daryl warned you while he aimed the rifle and shoot, along with Shane, Andrea, Rick, T-Dog, even Glenn, murdering the Greene’s family in front of their eyes. It had to be done, you knew it, those weren’t people, they were monsters, but the Greene’s looked so broken you couldn’t look while the monsters dropped dead.
And when you thought things couldn’t get worse, they did. A last, little walker stumbled out of the barn.
Sophia.
...................................................
Aw...you know what’s coming :( Do you think Daryl’d keep himself away from the reader and the dog? Or would he look for comfort on them? We’ll see...
Anyway, thank you for reading! Please, if you have a moment drop me a comment and let me know your thoughts, I’d love to read it and talk to all of you, it keeps me inspired and going!
As always, English is not my first language so sorry if there are mistakes.
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alleiradayne · 5 years
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THERE’S SOMETHING STRANGE A READER/SAM WINCHESTER SERIES
When Y/N Y/L/N escapes to the upper Midwest for a weekend of inspiration to begin her tenth paranormal thriller novel, she never imagined the source of that inspiration to be her own life. Between the old mansion, two peculiar men posing as antiquers, and the mysterious death of the heiress of Hill Manor one-hundred and fifty years ago, Y/N learns the truth about far more than the paranormal.
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Part IV - The Betrayal
Summary: The hunt begins! Warnings/Tags: Hunting, fluff, angst, near death experience, a poltergeist, I think it’s scary... Square filled: Author AU Characters/Pairings: Reader/Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester Word Count: 4,895 A/N: For @spnfluffbingo2019, this entire series fills the Author AU square. Super giant huge thank you to @atc74 who beta’d this giant thing for me. I also had to delete and reblog this post because I made some changes that were posted to AO3 and not here.
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The door creaked on its worn hinges as Dean crossed the threshold into her room. Over his shoulder he brandished an iron fireplace poker like a baseball bat. “Alright, what have you touched in here so far?”
From behind Sam, Y/N shoved her way into her room and strode past Dean. His feeble protest sounded more like a bruised ego than an actual complaint, and so she ignored it. “Everything,” she declared as she gestured to encompass her room. “I've touched everything in this room. If you can see it, I've touched it. It's kind of hard not to.”
Sam swallowed hard as he prepared to speak. “I warned you. Last night. Why didn't you listen?”
“Yeah, like that basketball player and her reporter friend,” Dean said. “They were smart and got the hell out when I told them to.”
Wait. Sam had been right? “You… weren't trying to fold the basketball player?”
Dean turned to Sam with a flat look. “Fold? Did you tell her to say that?”
“Would you have preferred I use ‘fuck’ instead? Bang? Nail? Drill? Take your pick,” Y/N snipped. “I've got more.”
Dean stared at her for a moment before turning back to Sam. “I hate you and I'm jealous of you, but I'm damn proud of you, Sammy. That's the kinda girl you should marry.”
“Shut up,” Sam hissed. “We need to find this… thing immediately. It might not even be here. Whatever it is,” he added as he looked the room once over.
Y/N looked as well but didn't have a single clue for what it was for which she searched. “Sam, who was that woman in that book? And why do you think her spirit is still attached to this place?”
Sam withdrew the book from under his arm and opened the it to read aloud. “Y/N Hillstead…” he paused as he looked at Dean who in turn looked at her, “of Hill Manor, writing her twentieth novel at her scrivener’s desk in her room.”
Y/N nodded as she frowned. “Okay, I'm just gonna ignore the fact that we have the same first name and we're both authors. Why do you think her spirit is here?”
Sam flipped a few pages ahead as Dean prodded at various pieces of furniture with the iron poker. “Y/N died within days of publishing the novel she was writing in her portrait. Her cause of death was unknown, her body unmarred and in top physical health for the time.”
“So, she had an aneurysm and a 19th century doctor couldn’t figure that out,” Y/N said as she picked at the enameled corner the writing desk. At the edge of her vision she saw Dean squint as his hackles bared his teeth. “There has to be more to this story if you’re both convinced her spirit is here.”
Sam snapped the book shut and his flat stare bore into hers. “What this book omits, either intentionally or otherwise, is the fact that Ms. Hillstead's body was found in the mansion's cemetery lying on her back right where her future grave would be.”
Okay. That was definitely suspicious. “I still feel like there's more missing,” she stated.
“Would you just tell her the whole story?” Dean growled as he slumped into a chair, only to leap out of it after a beat.
Sam rolled his eyes as he scoffed and shook his head at Dean. When Sam turned back to her, he explained. “Ms. Hillstead's body had been found posed. At least that's what other sources say. Given the items found on her person, we suspect she had lain that way on her own.”
He neared the writing desk as his words slowed. A glance between the book and the desk served him one final check before he said, “she had all the ritual components for creating a phylactery.”
Y/N slumped onto her bed. Christ. Real magic. Subconsciously, her fingers tapped her chin as she spoke. “You’re trying to find the phylactery. Before anyone else does.”
Dean grunted his agreement. “Ms. Hillstead was a witch in every sense of the word. A powerful one, too.”
A witch? A real, honest-to-God witch? Y/N wondered what other fairytales might be true. A shake of her head cleared her thoughts, and instead she asked, “How do you know she was a witch?”
“We uh… have contacts,” Sam stuttered.
“You know a witch?!”
Dean waved her off. “She’s been a pain in our ass for the better part of a decade now. Don’t make it sound cool.”
“I would love to meet her,” Y/N started, “I bet she has amazing stories.”
“Can we focus?” Sam asked as he continued to stare at the writing table. “Whatever this phylactery is, we need to find it immediately.”
Y/N stood as Dean inched his way to the door. “Wait a minute,” she demanded. Dean froze at the door, his hand an inch shy of the handle. “Is Y/N Hillstead actually dead?”
Sam and Dean traded a look. “We’re not sure,” Sam started. “Either way, we find her phylactery and get it to the right people, they can handle it. Ideally, they could eliminate that part of her soul and find out where the rest of her is.”
“Rest… of her?” Y/N asked.
Dean bristled at that. “We dug up her grave last night hoping to burn her corpse,” he said.
“With salt, right? To force her spirit to move on.” Y/N added.
He visibility relaxed at that, a small smile quirking his lips. He regarded Sam as he agreed. “Yeah. But her coffin was empty. So, she either isn’t dead, or, if she is, something else was done with her body. We think she’s not dead. She’s a lich and split her soul in two, and put one half in a phylactery. She could be a baelnorn, but that’s highly un—”
Sam backhanded his shoulder and Dean stopped short with a clipped tongue as Y/N paced the width of her room, deep in thought. A thousand questions running through her mind, rabbit hole after rabbit hole spawning more and more questions. But given their convictions, it all boiled down to one issue. “How do you destroy a phylactery?”
Dean rolled his eyes as his chin dropped to his chest. Sam, all too proud, withdrew a decorative vial from his jean pocket. Golden amber liquid glimmered in the yellow lamplight as he spun it between his fingers. She neared him as her eyes narrowed to examine the tiny bottle of crystal-clear glass. Stoppered by a cork in golden metal neck, the liquid swirled in undulating circles far too much for Sam’s steady hand. Inches away, a sudden flash of a violent shade of green startled Y/N so, she jumped back a step. “What the fuck is that?”
“Venom,” Sam said as he returned it to his pocket. “From a basilisk.”
Basilisks, too? As Y/N’s mind raced, it dawned on her. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” she scoffed.
“We’re not,” Dean groaned. “It’s so damn ridiculous. But it works.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Alright, fine. But we still have no clue where this phylactery is, or what it is. It might not even be in this house.”
Sam glanced at her writing desk once more. “We have reason to believe it is.”
“Sam and I were up most of the night doing research after we found her coffin empty,” Dean started as he caught Sam’s look. He hefted the iron poker in his fist as he neared the desk. “The things on Y/N Hillstead’s body included several possible phylacteries. At least, there was a list of items found on her body not necessary for the ritual. We’re assuming she planned to use one of them.”
A slow step in complete synchronization neared the brothers to the desk. “One of those items was a small journal,” Sam started.
“A diamond bracelet her husband had given her,” Dean added as they continued to close in on the writing desk.
“A scroll of parchment with the end of her last novel written on it,” Sam added, eyes still glued to the writing desk.
With each of their steps, Y/N backed further into her room until the dresser met the small of her back. Dean reached the desk first and hooked into the drawer with the poker. Its contents revealed, Dean regarded Sam out of the corner of his eye, then reached in with his bare hands.
“Wait!”
Too late, Y/N's exclamation echoed through her room unheard. Dean withdrew her leather notebook, its modern binding far too obvious among the other items in the drawn.
He discarded it on the bed before returning to the drawer. “The last item was a pen.”
“Like the one in her portrait?”
Sam withdrew a thin purple cloth from his back pocket and unfurled it with a snap of his wrist. A thick swallow stuck in her throat, and the room spun as adrenaline coursed through her veins. With rapt attention, Y/N stared as he reached into the desk, shuffled old paper aside, then froze.
Dean backed away a startled step before recovering with the iron poker bared. “Be careful.”
Y/N resisted the urge to laugh, Sam's flat glare and Dean's healthy fear of the unknown humorous in their own ways. “It's just a pen.”
“We don't know that yet,” Dean argued.
“He has a point,” Sam agreed as he searched the room, then found her empty notebook on her bed. “May I?” When Y/N nodded, he snatched it up and flipped it open to the first page and his brow furrowed. “I thought you said you started writing last night?”
“I… didn’t,” she stuttered. “There was just… too much going on. The mansion, the people. They were all…”
“Distracting?”
Sam’s bright stare locked with hers, and for a moment, the world around them ceased to exist. Dean faded to the blurry edges of her subconscious, as did the pen that Sam held. Empathy poured from him in waves, crashing over her and pulling her under. Damn his perception. Damn his emotional intelligence, too. And damn his enthralling gaze.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, will you two get a room?”
Reality returned in a rush when Dean ripped the pen and cloth from Sam’s hand and scribbled on the page of her open notebook. Y/N gasped despite not knowing what should or even could happen. And Sam nearly screamed as he bobbled the notebook into Dean's arms, where he fumbled it to the floor.
Still as stone, they froze as though that might protect them. Several seconds ticked by on the large mantle clock before Y/N opened her eyes that she had shut in a fit of terror only to find the notebook laying on the floor, unmarked by the pen.
“Piece of junk,” Dean spat as he shoved the cap on it. He tossed it back into the drawer as he handed Sam his cloth, then leaned down for the notebook and handed it back to Y/N. “Thanks. We’ll keep looking.”
“I could help,” she offered as she set her notebook on the desk.
Sam handed her the thin square of purple fabric as he said, “Use that. It’s… it has a Hoodoo barrier on it. Kinda like a… “
Dean flourished his from his pocket and grinned. “A magic condom.”
She almost felt bad for Sam. Almost. As she took the fabric from him, she looked to Dean and said, “Magic condom, hm? Does it make you look bigger when you wear it, Dean?”
The ridiculous grin on Dean's face disappeared without a trace. He looked to the door, then turned and strode out to the hallway, Sam’s cackling laughter following him as he, too, turned for the door.
“Sam.”
He stopped in the doorway, a smile so bright on his face despite the looming danger. “Y/N?”
“What should I do?”
Damn the quake in her voice. She only needed a straight answer from Sam. Not consoling or, worse, pity.
“I'll catch up to you,” he said into the hallway.
“Sure,” she heard Dean say. His heavy boots thumped down the hallway as he said, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, Y/N!”
She laughed despite Sam’s embarrassed blush. When Sam closed her door and turned back to her, she said, “He means well.”
“Yeah, he’s meant well for the better part of twenty-five years,” he said.
She sat on her bed and Sam followed, sitting so close the heat of his presence consumed her in every way possible. “Is that how long you two have been at… whatever this is?” she asked as she gestured to her room.
“Hunting.”
Of course. “Hunting,” she repeated.
“And yes. Dean's been hunting longer. My dad taught us,” he paused as his eyes glazed over, staring off into the middle distance as though reliving too many memories at once.
“Sam?” Her hand found his without thought. “Earth to Sam?”
He blinked at last, and his fingers tightened around hers when he looked to her. “Sorry. It's… a long story. One I don't think I have time to tell. Maybe I could write a book about it all someday. Although, I don't think there's enough ink in the entire world to print that monstrosity.”
The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as gooseflesh broke out along her arms. “What did you just say?”
Sam regarded his feet a moment before responding. “I should write a book about hunting. For hunters. You know, nothing I could really publish given that—”
“No, after that,” she urged as she stood.
Sam followed, his hand still held in hers. “That there isn't enough ink in the whole world to print that book.”
“Ink,” she muttered as she turned back to the writing desk. The drawer sat open a half inch and bright moonlight from the window glinted off something inside it.
“Yeah, ink,” Sam repeated. “What about it?”
“I… I'm not sure,” she sighed. Something about the pen and the mention of ink had snagged a recent memory. But far too often the last several weeks, her more intriguing thoughts fled at the first sign of scrutiny. “I thought I had an idea but, it's gone. Feels a lot like my writing these days.”
The warmth of his hands enveloped her shoulders as Sam squared her to face him. “You'll get out of this funk,” he said, “you've got a lot going on right now, especially with this bombshell of a truth dropping into your lap.”
“I know,” she groaned, “I'm just… impatient. And still so distracted.”
The second those words left her mouth she wished she could take them back. Sam parted from her with a sudden nervous shake as he said, “I'm sorry, I should go. Let you get back to work.”
Had dinner never happened? What of their walk? And the library earlier that afternoon? “I still want to help. Do you have to go?”
He checked the door over his shoulder. “I should. We really need to find this phylactery.”
The sinking sensation in her chest chilled her to her toes. “I… I understand. I'll keep looking here,” she said.
At the door, Sam paused and held up another purple cloth. “Don’t forget to use the one I gave you. And Y/N?”
“Yeah, Sam?”
“After we finish this, we’ll talk, okay?” he said with a small smile. “I promise. You deserve my complete attention and I want to give that to you when people's lives aren't at stake.”
A promise. Better than nothing. “Thanks, Sam.”
He disappeared through the door, its sharp clasp clicking against the wood as it shut behind him. For a long moment, Y/N stood in the center of her room, unsure of what to do for the first time in so many years. Though shocked, she found a sense of comfort in learning the truth, that her novels were not far from fact. Not in the least. If anything, her work demanded a review by the Winchesters. She wondered what her editor would think if she republished any of her books with corrections based on Sam and Dean’s feedback.
Shit. Too many distractions. She had intended to give Sam her phone number in case she found anything. If she moved fast enough, she might yet catch him in the hallway. From the writing desk, she retrieved her notebook. The cover flipped aside with a flick of her wrist, but when she went for her pen in the binding, it wasn’t there. The drawer of the desk came up empty but for the old fountain pen Dean and Sam had found and discarded.
The black glazed finish—wood or stone, she was unsure—glimmered in the lamplight. Thin, faint veins of gold and green shined as she twirled it between her fingers.
“Ink.”
If Y/N Hillstead had written twenty novels with that pen, maybe Y/N could tap into that well of inspiration.
All she needed was some ink.
Her room proved fruitless as she turned it over, using the Hoodoo cloth in most cases to touch anything remotely suspicious. Not a single inkwell surfaced in any of the drawers, dressers, or cabinets that lined her over-furnished quarters. The distinct lack of an inkwell in that room, the room in which Y/N Hillstead had supposedly written her novels, struck her odd. But that faint memory, newly formed earlier that afternoon, bubbled to the surface once more and she surrendered to it completely.
Corded muscle pressed against her entire body, enveloped in his suffocating embrace. How soft his lips on hers, softer than sin as they so gently teased them apart with his tongue and the faint taste of icy spearmint gum filled her mouth again. Gun oil and leather overwhelmed her nose as she breathed in to ease the relentless onslaught of arousal pooling between her thighs. Her bedroom spun as the memory unfolded and she relived it, his hands slipping to the small of her back, smoothing over the curve of her ass, and grasping, nearly lifting her from her feet.
Had Dean not interrupted them, she knew without a doubt Sam would have taken her on that very table in the library. And she would have so willingly wrapped her legs around his hips and let him fuck her cross-eyed.
But in that last moment before the memory faded at Dean’s barking interjection, an image flashed in her mind’s eye and Y/N saw it.
Behind Sam, an inkwell sat on a shelf all by itself. And beside it on the same base stood an identical pen to the one she held, standing tall in its holder.
Her eyes snapped open as she slapped her hand on the writing desk to catch her listing body. When the room stopped spinning and her breathing steadied, Y/N set her notebook and the pen on her bed as her plans took shape. She needed a change of clothes. As Sam had mentioned earlier that afternoon, running in heels begged for a broken ankle.
While she knew Sam would be well on his way by the time she changed into her jeans, t-shirt, jacket, and Chucks, she still wanted to give the pen a shot. Her superstitions about inspiration, muses, and motivation demanded she at least try it. So, she gathered up her things, stuffed them into her messenger bag, and headed for the library.
On her way, she expected to run into other guests, if only one. But no one interrupted her quick stride, not a single soul in sight from the hallway, down the stairs, and into the halls of study in the North wing of the house. Given the hour, she expected to see folks returning from dinner but when she had passed the dining room at the bottom of the stairs, darkness oozed from the doorway.
She darted in and headed for the kitchen door on a whim. If she had learned anything from all her years of research, she needed some sort of defense. In the kitchen, the overhead lights flickered to life when she flipped the switch. Y/N scanned the countertops, then, finding them bare, started in on the cupboards. The pantry proved fruitful; a large canister of salt sat on a bottom shelf and she tossed it into her bag.
On her way out, her eye caught a gleaming object hanging on the wall near the door. A small chef’s hand-torch sat in a mount and she snatched it up to toss it into her bag as she strode from the kitchen. Through the dining room, she returned to the dark hallway and headed for the library.
Around a nearby corner, she happened upon the library entrance quicker than she had expected. Yellow lamplight flooded the room and spilled into the hallway where Y/N had skidded to a stop. Empty but for the myriad rows of shelves, the library beckoned to her, inviting her to curl up in a secluded corner with a good book and a hot cup of tea on that chilly fall night.
One foot crossed the threshold, then the other as a creeping sense of dread crawled up her spine. She paused six feet inside the library doors for a breath and scanned the room as best she could. Too many obstacles obscured the furthest corners of the room, including the table at which she had found Sam earlier that afternoon. And yet, she hesitated. What might be around those dimly lit corners, the edges of shadows through which she could hardly see?
“Oh, get it together, Y/N,” she chastised as she pressed on, willing herself to traverse the bookcases once more.
Around the last row of shelves, she found the table and approached it only to stall in the last foot. She had stood there mere hours ago, lips locked with Sam’s as he all but overpowered her with his hulking frame and palpable desire. She wanted nothing more than to relive that moment again and again until her imagination finished the job and she would, at the very least, have the perfect inspiration for a scene in her novel.
But before she moved any further, her curiosity about the pen burned a hole in thoughts. She inspected the shelving surrounding her spot until at last she found the entire case of writing supplies. Near the top the inkwell sat on its base, the twin pen beside it and surrounded by copious amounts of old parchment and quills.
“Perfect.”
As she approached the shelf, Y/N noted the base upon which the inkwell sat had a second, empty holder beside the twin pen. Made of the same material—she still couldn’t tell if it was wood or stone—she determined the set must belong together.
Eager to reunite them, Y/N grabbed the base at both ends and slid it towards her. A sharp shift jolted the base as it popped free of its decades long resting place surrounded by a thick layer of dust.
Delicate hands carried the inkwell and base to the table where she set them down near a chair and sat. The moment of truth loomed, settled in her stomach like a lead weight as she dragged her notebook from her bag. On its heels, she withdrew the pen and removed the cap, its sharp clip loud as a crack of thunder in the silent library.
Her nerves had gotten the best of her, shaking hands struggling to fill the pen. Damn fragile piece of junk. The sad part, she knew, was that it probably wasn't worth it. The pen had most likely ceased to function properly decades ago.
The nib hovered over her notebook as she imagined how to begin her novel. As a solid drop of thick black ink gathered, Y/N had a second thought to take out her Hoodoo cloth and wrap it around the pen.
Just in case.
Metal met paper and dragged a thick, broad stroke as Y/N wrote in her neatest script.
The Betrayal at The House on The Hill
The last thing Natalie wanted, let alone needed, after the untimely death of her parents was to inherit a piece of property. Least of all the cursed house on the top of the hill at the edge of town. But there she stood in the massive ballroom, surrounded by too many faces with too few names.
Each sentence flowed from Y/N without thought, without any effort at all. She continued, each idea forming and solidifying in a matter of seconds. The words found their way to the page with such perfection, Y/N tore the pen away intentionally to allow herself a moment to breathe.
As she inhaled, the chill she had felt upon entering the library returned. The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and gooseflesh pebbled the skin of her arms as a numbing sense of dread chilled her toes and fingers. Her heart thumped faster and faster, hammering against her chest, until the rush of blood past her ears drowned out all her thoughts.
Lamps in the hallways flickered once, twice, then snuffed out. Darkness threatened the library as lamps along the walls followed, their brief flickers inevitably stilled. Y/N rose to her feet and reached into her bag, her fingers wrapping around a large container of salt as the last lights sputtered and died.
An unearthly cold gripped her like a vice and threatened to squeeze the life from her lungs. Ephemeral swirls of dust and dirt churned in a gathering mass not a foot before her, taking shape in the form of a hand around her throat. Y/N dropped the pen with a gasp, her scream silent as the grave, and though she clawed at the hands on her neck, she could not grasp them.
The dim light of the moon faded beneath heavy lids, her consciousness fleeing under the unholy strength of the malevolence rapidly forming before her. Before she succumbed to that darkness, the ghastly visage of a young woman—unmistakably Y/N Hillstead—stared back at her, sunken eyes wide and boring holes into her very soul.
Y/N gasped one last breath in desperation as she flung the can of salt at the spirit. Just like in her books, it scattered in a spray of dirt and dust, and Y/N collapsed to her knees as she gasped, choking for breath.
Her reprieve lasted a second before the spirit returned, but Y/N leaped faster and grabbed the pen as she rolled for the canister of salt. A handful flung in its face bought her the one second she needed to lunge for her bag and make the last move she had.
The chef’s torch ignited in one hand and she held the pen a scant inch shy of the flame. The spirit froze, expressionless but for her wide eyes glued to the pen.
“If you move one more inch, so help me God, I'll burn it,” Y/N growled. “You need leave. This is not the place for you.”
The spirit of Y/N Hillstead opened her mouth to speak but only a thin rasp emanated from her. Rage filled her eyes as her lips thinned to nothing, pressed closed as her jaw clenched.
And then everything happened all at once. A banshee wail of a scream rent the air as the spirit threw her head back and her jaw unhinged. Y/N clamped her hands over her ears as she collapsed to her knees and the pen fell to the floor, the most excruciating pain wracking her entire body. Regret plagued her final thoughts as consciousness faded once more, darkness creeping in at the edges of her vision.
But out of that deep, dark nothing, a familiar face brightened, illuminated by a flare of eerie green light. She searched the room for the source of the light and found it on the floor, shining blindingly bright out of the body of the pen. The impulse to grasp it, to encapsulate that power, assaulted Y/N with such relentless force, no amount of her willpower could have resisted. She lunged and clamped a hand over the pen, trapping it on the floor. As though she had covered its mouth, the spirit silenced in a wisp of dust, disappearing into thin air.
Warm, golden lamplight flickered to life and flooded the library in the absence of the spirit. That familiar face returned as Sam Winchester rushed to her side. His massive arms enveloped her with such ease, Y/N blushed despite the pain. She slumped into his embrace and allowed him to scoop her up into his arms, her hands shaking as they gripped at his coat.
He carried her from the library as she finally succumbed to the darkness, heavy lids drifting closed. But before she slipped into that unconsciousness, that infinitesimal space between asleep and awake, Y/N heard a gruff voice ask, “What the fuck just happened in there?”
Sam shifted her in his arms as he strode on, Dean catching up behind him. “I don’t know, man.”
“That wasn’t a lich, Sam! Or a spirit!” Dean hissed. “That was a full-on fucking poltergeist! Why is Y/N Hillstead a poltergeist?!”
A real, honest-to-god poltergeist. That final thought followed her down into the deep, dark nothing as she succumbed to unconsciousness at last.
Son of a bitch.
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26 notes · View notes
jq37 · 5 years
Note
i know you posted your thoughts on the big arguing scene in “we need to talk about pete” but i was wondering if you were going to post a full breakdown? that episode was a lot and i love hearing your thoughts on eps. ignore this if you have done a breakdown and i’m dumb and just missed it lol
**spoilers for the war of bugs and rats and we need to talk about pete**
What’s up denizens of Magic NYC? Now, I unfortunately live in normal NYC where I have to pay bills and stuff so I’ve been MIA with recaps for the past few eps but, no sweat. We’re gonna do a double feature of the above two eps and then I’ll group in the last battle episode with the upcoming episode. So lets catch up on what’s been going on in The Unsleeping City There’s a LOT to get through so vámanos y'all.
First up, we have our big bug fight in Queens, which Sophie enters with a camelback full of box wine because Emily is Emily.
“I’ve heard of gentrification but this is crazy!”
Brennan enjoys making those gross, chittering, bug noises way too much.
Have we talked about Pete’s cowboy hat? Because, for real, what is up with Pete’s cowboy hat? It seems absolutely apropos of nothing. Was he just like, “Sick,” and he decided to wear it everywhere? That seems to be how he makes all of his decisions.
“Butthole 2: Electric Boogaloo.”
Emily clocks the cat *immediately*. Like to the point where I’m almost thinking, “Did this cat exist before Emily mentioned looking for one?” And I want to say yes because La Gran Gata seems very fleshed out, specific, and intentional. But folks, we are living in a post-Avanash world so idk what to think. (Edit: The cat does have a mini now that I’ve gotten to that but idk, that insert shot could have been shot post ep so like, who knows?)
Anyway, Emily’s entire mission objective immediately becomes saving this cat she’s vaguely aware of.  
“5E you crazy.”
The Cast, Knowing Emily just rolled a 25 and still has a 1d8 Bless in Her Back Pocket if She Needs It: Brennan, Just Ask.
The horror on Emily’s face when she realizes that she just called an attack on the cat cocoon.
So Emily goes off on a very Emily side quest to rescue a random cat but happens to unlock a very cool NPC–La Gran Gata–who is like the spirit of all the bodega cats out there. Sophie immediately calls upon the entirety of her limited Spanish skills to try and make friends with the cat, and succeeds.
The, “To arms, to arms my brothers!” thing kills me every time. Are all rats just Like That? Is that what they’re like when they’re out and about too?
Kingston rolling a nat 20 to literally walk across the store is wild.
Oh also, Pete failed a wild magic surge roll which just lets him fly. So far, those wild magic surges have really been working out for him.
Anyway, Bug Boss Becky turns Ricky into a “buff-ass” dog.
Zac playing dog-Ricky with almost exactly the same self-awareness (or lack thereof) as normal-Ricky is so funny. He’s an Akita and I was expecting Dalmatian but that makes sense too. Ricky, the very good boy, attacks Becky and–as a Sentinel–stops her in her tracks.
Emily does a ton of damage and Brennan, about to describe her attack, is like, “Are you still drunk?” Emily shuts down the opportunity to look cooler and is like, “I am a messy, drunk bitch. Describe that.” Emily isn’t here to be cool. Emily is here to roleplay.
I had never heard the word brindled before now and Brennan uses it to describe two separate animals in this ep.
Siobhan rolls a nat 20 to dispel magic on Ricky which is objectively good but also I would have loved for him to be a dog a little longer. Also, this moment makes me really, really want to get some backstory on Misty. Like, clearly there are some serious Fae Shenanigans going on with her and I need specifics yesterday.
Also, Ricky comes back with pointier ears and wolfier senses and I’m just picturing Channing Tatum in Jupiter Ascending.
Before I forget, Sophie, Pete, and Misty yoink magical items from the magic bodega within the bodega La Gran Gata opened up. Sophie’s is a magic ring that amps up her punches. Misty took a mirror and Pete took a grill (like for your teeth). Not sure what those do yet.
The fact that this whole fight wasn’t under the Umbral Arcana and there are people out there that remember is a little concerning for me. I can’t quite tell if it’s the sort of thing that will come back or more of a warning of what can happen if the U.A. goes down again.
Post-fight, Sophie asks La Gran Gata for mismatched David Bowie eyes like the cat has. Siobahn goes, “That’s what you’re gonna ask? You drunk bitch.” But Sophie has her wish granted. I’m sure that won’t raise any questions with people who have known her her entire life. 
“She’s gonna fuck that cat.”
So the fight’s over and they realize that the Key to the City is missing which I can’t imagine is a good thing.
This brings us to the RP ep, We Need to Talk About Pete, which picks up directly where the previous ep ended.
Ally and Emily go for the exact same joke of getting Guinness’s post-fight. Kingston–as a medical professional, Vox Populi, and sanest adult of this troupe–loudly objects (smacking the beers out of Pete’s hands multiple times) and wants to know what the hell is going on with the bugs they just fought.
Sidenote: Sophie took a level in Warlock with La Gran Gata as her patron because of *course* she did. I wonder if this was the plan from the beginning or if Emily was watching all her friends spellcasting and started getting the jitters from magic user withdrawal.
Murph’s “What?” face when Emily says, “I’ll be waiting, but not in an impatient, desperate way,” is gold.
They search the bodega and find a thing of 1000 Hour Energy and Kugrash gives it to Ricky over Pete’s objections. They also find Holy Grail Laundry Detergent (Kingston pays for it), The Grill I mentioned earlier (Kingston hates this), and this bagel. 
All the magic users show up. Alejandro wants an explanation pronto and everyone points a finger at Pete who explains everything in his typical, nonchalant, vague, kinda spaced out way which Alejandro is not digging at all. He starts to go off on the enormity of the situation and Pete starts dropping acid.
I’m gonna stop here for a sec to talk about how Ally is playing Pete. There are moments when I feel like Ally is doing something as a comedian for a bit. And there’s kind of a sense of, is this funny? Obviously. But what are the in game implications of this move? Like the running joke of Pete constantly being high on something is funny, out of game. But,  in game, it’s massively concerning. And I’m really curious about where Ally is choosing to draw the line between doing the funny thing and doing the prudent thing. I almost said the in-character thing but Ally made a character so consistently bonkers that whatever he does could plausibly be the in-character thing. Pete is kind of a massive disaster.
Anyway, Alejandro drives home the point that Pete’s actions have consequences and have caused actual deaths at this point. Pete’s magic is internally going wonky as he gets more distressed (I really wanted to see a wild magic surge fail here but alas). But he’s still outwardly like a 4 on the giving a damn scale when the situation is a 13 out of 10. Pete is only half listening to this because he’s halfway out the door, smoking. Alejandro plans with Kingston to discuss Pete later.
Misty, always sowing seeds of chaos, suggests Alejandro stock up on Juul pods before they stop selling them completely. Kingston hates this (this is basically his mood for the episode).  
Outside, Pete gets a text from Priya which ends with them planning a meet up for later after leaving her on read for a while. Pete dips without saying anything to anyone but Kingston who ignores him (and also Sophie who Emily hilariously guilts Ally into including out of character). Dipping on the conversation about how to fix YOUR mess isn’t the wisest move but Pete isn’t the wisest guy.  
In the meantime, Ricky does the Twilight Bark to summon a dalmatian (yes!) to help him find the stolen key to the city. Kugrash turns into a busted ass dalmatian who has trouble keeping up.
Ricky doesn’t have the plate mail armor that usually makes a Paladin so unstealthy but he is so hot as to have the same lack of stealthiness which is one of my favorite adaptations of the game for this setting. Anyway, Ricky does the superhero thing of running through the city, helping everyone with a problem along the way, and loses the key in the Financial District which smells like death (feels about right).
Siobahn playing Misty as, “Oh, I can’t believe I didn’t realize it was Emma Lazarus,” when, in reality, she was the first person who made the connection was great. S/o to ppl who separate player and character knowledge. Misty partied w/ Emma of course because she partied with every historical figure that’s passed through NYC since she showed up.
Post adventure, people need to go to their day jobs. Misty has a +10 to performance but rolling a 3 is rolling a 3. It’s not her best work. Later, her assistant brings her holly, silver, and assorted other stuff which sounds like Fae BS if I’ve ever heard it. Misty cuts her off before she can elaborate more. I know we’re getting a secret spilling episode next time so I’m really hoping we get some Misty lore because she is being frustratingly cagey. She talks so much but says so little that means anything.
Kugrash sneaks into his son David’s house (while Emily learns a rat fact she clearly didn’t want to know) and Murph  and Brennan tag team go for the proverbial emotional jugular.
Murph rolls a nat 20 on his investigate and so he gets a lot of his old files and puts together that Robert is Robert Moses–a famous historical figure in NY who I actually heard about for the first time very recently. Or maybe I should say infamous. He did a lot with NY infrastructure–especially highways–(Emily connects this to the Highway Hex immediately) and he wasn’t exactly the warm and fuzzy type. His bread and butter was working the system. There’s a Pulitzer winning book called The Power Broker about how he was able to amass power and influence. I don’t know enough about NY history to run my mouth off about the guy but the little I do know is in character with his T.U.S. incarnation. Also, just FYI, irl this dude died in the 80s. So, you know. That’s interesting.
Brennan, I guess: Why invent new bad guys when history is full of terrible people I just have to give magic to?
Brennan, continuing his tradition of letting people get emotionally destroyed by nat 20s, has Murph find a crushing letter from David to Kug which was never mailed.
Note: So, as I was writing this, my video timed out right at the line, “I don’t expect this letter to find you before my funeral,” which is kinda good bc idk if this is what I need at 1 AM. Anyway, back to the pain.
The letter reveals that David has devoted his life to stopping crooks like him (Kug) and that he’s mostly upset about how his leaving has affected the younger, more fragile Wally.
“I leave the letter because I’ll remember it.” Yeah I bet you will.
It looks like Kug is gonna confront Wally next ep which I am now even more excited to see.
So let’s move onto the SECOND big gut-punch of the episode. Kingston goes down to the station to give a statement about the Santa Incident. He sees a shit elemental in a lineup which isn’t super relevant to the main events but I can’t not mention something like that.
Anyway, guess what? Kingston’s ex (Liz) isn’t dead! She’s an attorney for the justice system of The Unsleeping City and she’s pissed the hell off. During their interview, he stops the tape recorder to cuss out Kingston for going on a “date” with Misty and for getting her involved in all the magical junk which means she has to do things like fingerprint shit elementals instead of being on track to be D.A. like she originally was. The way she described it made it sound like she was press ganged into it which seems like it shouldn’t be how this works, you know? Is there no blue pill option here? Also, not to be all grass is greener but I actually am a lawyer in NY (closer to Kug’s job, minus the crime) and I would swap with Liz in a heartbeat.
The fact that anything Kingston says as Vox is per se admissible is a cool detail. 
Sophie fights an old man (Jackson) in a CVS and joins a monastery which sounds like a shitpost but it isn’t. With La Gran Gata’s blessing she is now a member of the Order of the Concrete Fist.
I saw the Staten Island joke coming the second Brennan started talking but it was still hysterical when it landed.
At the same time, Pete is getting knuckle tats because, sure. And he also goes to see Priya who I am baffled was with him for any length of time. Maybe it’s the artist thing?
Also, Sophie keeps postponing her meeting with Mario which is concerning to me. The story is still happening when you’re not interacting with it. Brennan specifically said when she texted him that she got no response which doesn’t make me feel good about what’s going on with him.
Ricky has three super jacked, fratty firefighter bros, all named John who are like woke as hell. I wish I could follow the dude around for a day because every single facet of his life is wild.
Well, this episode promised we were gonna talk about Pete so let’s talk about Pete.
The gang, sans Pete, meet up with the magical powers that be to discus the destruction the newest Vox his leaving in his wake.
Sidenote, wild that Sophie has been magic for like 15 minutes and got to go to this meeting.
Alejandro wants to know what the plan is for if Pete’s powers go off the rails again. Kingston, who has clearly seen Old Yeller, offers the most drastic solution immediately: if it comes to it, we take him out. (Cut to Ally’s “Yikes” face). Kug, Sophie, and Ricky push back on that.
Misty, hilariously (and also suspiciously), is mainly concerned about NY because she needs theater to keep happening. This woman is chaotic something and I’m not convinced it’s chaotic good yet.
Anyway, I already did my big write-up on this part of the episode, but I’ll say it again: Kingston is right. He’s harsh but he’s right. This is some Phoenix Force BS that’s happening and do you know how that arc ends (the OG one, not the million other Phoenix Sagas that have happened since)? It ends with Jean Grey killing herself so she doesn’t lose control and eat another planet. Ricky is too dangerous for his own good and he doesn’t seem to have the emotional maturity to care (or at least to care at the correct level). Like, he was a drug dealer when this started which is already not ideal. He caused a huge mess and then just bounced without trying to help fix it. He thought that a week was enough time for human casualties to be water under the bridge. Frankly, not considering the nuclear option and just having to figure out if killing him is something the group is willing to do on the fly would be the more irresponsible option.
And not including Pete in the discussion would bother me more if he hadn’t openly blown off every serious discussion people have tried to have with him so far. If he’s not going to take things seriously, it makes sense they don’t invite him to the serious discussions.
The version of this story where Pete accidentally gets a bunch of people killed, finds out what he did, cries about it for a full day, and then finds out they’re talking about possibly killing him is a story where Pete is more sympathetic imo. But still, finding out that people talked about killing you under any circumstances has got to be rough.
IMO, the order of things that should be done right now are (1) putting magical training wheels on Pete, (2a) getting Pete trained or his powers transferred if it’s possible/he wants out, (2b) either way, getting Pete into therapy (like, he needed therapy before he got magic. now it’s just a matter of life and death–besides just his own), (3) talking to Pete again about the stakes and telling him point blank but not in while heated that there’s the possibility of a scenario where his powers go out of control and you have to understand that at that point it’s a matter of saving as many lives as possible. Like, Kingston can say, with conviction, “If I go rogue, you should do the same to me.” They’re in the same boat. Kingston’s just been rowing longer. Well, similar boats anyway. I imagine the Vox Populi powers are less inherently chaotic. And maybe the knowledge that a nuclear option is on the table would make Pete not want the job or want him to have his powers muted or something. Cool. Then you have that discussion at that point. Just, these are the conversations that need to happen. And maybe his own mortality will be the thing that helps get Pete’s head in the game. 
What jewel did Ale take out of his pocket during this conversation? Taking note of that. (Juul, not jewel. Duh. Thx thethief )
Pete gets in touch w/ Alejandro’s granddaughters who tell him that Alejandro’s still pretty pissed (which is surprising to Pete but like, bro. People died). Then, Robert shows up to sweet talk Pete and show him the video (that he somehow has) of Kingston talking at the Pete Meeting. When I was watching this the first time I was like, “How long before this blows up in their face–oh, almost immediately. Cool.”
He takes Pete to his vampire nightclub and hits him with Pete’s own “I didn’t create the demand” line that you just know Brennan put a pin in to hit Pete with that Uno Reverse card.
Robert tries to get Pete to summon Nod and then just does it forcibly with some kind of blood magic when Pete is hesitant. Pete wild magic surges, kills a bunch of vamps, and Nod (super injured by being in the waking world) teleports them both to the subway.
The group (including Alejandro) meets them there so they can catch the L train to Nod but Epona shows up. And you already know from Fantasy High that Brennan is on the ACAB train (or is that AFCAB?). Epona is now wearing a crooked badge–crooked badge for a crooked cop. She wants Nod. No can do. The gang gets ready to–to quote Mr. Cubby-make some bacon while Alejandro tries to cast a spell to summon a train to Nod (the place not the person).
So I’ll see y’all next time (whenever that is) for some subway fighting and some backstory unlocking! 
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