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randomfoggytiger · 1 month

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React: A Late-Canon Reviler Gives the Revival a Try (Founder's Mutation), Part II

This is gonna be quick and dirty because my keyboard’s acting up--

IT’S A CONTINUATION FROM MY STRUGGLE I?????????? NO WHY NO, PLEASE NO.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO--

WHY do those glasses not fit anymore?? If Mulder lifts his eyebrows, they don’t even touch his cheekbones. But they were fine last episode, what happened.

Mulder reminding us about William in yet another opening monologue. I may have the memory of a goldfish, Mulder, but I don’t have brain damage.

I’m already so tired.

Narration, narration, sudden voice change and drop, “Bringing Scully and I back together”-- okay, that’s straight-up David's voice.

Oh, good. A bloody eyeball. How marvelous.

If this is the brain Morse Code episode, I will throw hands.

I’m Dr. Sanjay. We’re both too tired.

WHAT’S WITH THE SHAKY CAM AS DR. SANJAY DETERIORATES.

I’m not gonna be nit-picky… okay, I am.

The X-Files has a certain style, aesthetically. Because of that, one has to operate inside the rules in order to cleverly bend them. Shaky cam AND close-up break two rules back-to-back.

This "modernization" isn’t a limbered stretch so much as a spinal dislocation.

Ghost in the Machine and Blood 2.0, I see. But worse.

The “Sanjay losing control” scene is… not too different from similar 90s ones.

But that’s the problem-- the visuals have updated, but not the method. And that leaves us with the impression that the director or screenwriter or both are either amateur or outdated.

It’s also incredibly cluttered and confusing. Not confusing in a way that would expertly translate the meltdown in Sanjay’s brain, but confusing in a way that bombards us, the audience, with compounding “lost in translation” errors.

Okay, welp, he’s dead.

WHY do Mulder and Scully sound so old? Was it absolutely necessary to suck the life force out of the actors every time they walked on set? For Pete’s sake, I’ve heard more life in David’s voice while reading a Lexus ad.

Okay, DD’s picking up a bit, and GA’s compensating with her expressions but none of this is engaging.

Minor nitpick-- and I know both actors complained about wardrobe later-- but the second Mulder gets pants that fit him and Scully remembers to finish buttoning up her top, the sooner I’ll get a glimpse of the old show. Just sayin’.

His pants will eventually swing to the opposite tragedy, copping a feel while forcing him to do a little Marilyn Monroe shimmy.

I shall call them Patriarchy Pants.

Scully knows Indian?

She really is the series’ language OC, isn’t she.

Mulder got this informant to trust him by flashing his puppy eyes. I mean… it’s always worked on Scully.

Speaking of which… where’s Scully?

I’m wracking my brain, but I thiiiiiiiiiiink it’s consistent, even pre-S9 canon, for Mulder to sneak off and fill Scully in later. So, no complaints. I think.

What is it about the comedy scene that didn’t work…?

Hm.

‘Kay, so, if this guy (Gupta, looked it up) is no longer a repressed homosexual-- like he chastises Mulder for being-- then why was he so skittish in the bar?

He didn’t know Sanjay was dead, so therefore he didn’t know he was in danger (note from the future: he isn't in danger... which explains his skittishness even less.)

So, is his jumpiness because of repressed or hidden homosexuality? But he says he's out and urges Mulder to come out, as well.

Perhaps he's saying one thing and living another, i.e. pretending to be out and proud to save face in front of Mulder.

But then... that would be the comedy in this scene-- that he would have to eat his words (ex. another guy opens the door on them and Gupta makes a big fuss trying to cover up the homosexuality of it all-- “no homo” dialed up to 11, etc.)

So, he was either scared to be on a hit list-- yet wasn’t aware he might be on one-- or scared of being outed-- yet didn't signal this in his actions or dialogue.

If this is Gupta’s only scene, it was a waste.

It was a waste of an introduction, regardless. But.

Oh, Scully’s doing an autopsy, got it.

Characters are playing by their strengths, got it.

Also, forgot to note, Mulder sensing the guys in the bar were bad news points to his years spent on the job. A great touch.

…Unless, now that I think of it, Gupta invited him to a gay or hookup bar, consequently making Mulder look like an out-of-touch old buffoon. Which… fits his characterization in My Struggle I, but I hope for better things.

I didn’t see any tension in Scully’s arms while pulling the instrument out of Sanjay’s ear, but, ya know, there weren’t perfect moments in OG canon, either.

Gupta’s still here, okay. (DD getting away with a bit of humor by having Mulder act slightly out-of-place chuggin down in a bar-- I see you.)

IT IS A GAY BAR.

MULDER’S AN IDIOT, CONFIRMED.

“He lived two lives.” Okay, that’s f-- “In two separate places.” NO, no, nonono-- get back over the unsubtle line before I whip out the broom, shooshooshooshooshoo.

Wait, why is Mulder explaining the autopsy results instead of Scully?

Even when he had a… siiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh.

Even when Mulder had a brewing theory in mind, he always let Scully explain all her results before asking pointed questions, hearing her findings, then craft a theory and run it by her.

Here, Scully says, “Broke fingers to find words on palm/instrument went into these parts of the brain” and Mulder says “It went in at that angle then turned at this angle/insert theory.”

When it SHOULD be: Scully explains fingers and cause of death, Mulder points at the pics and asks why the instrument’s angle changed, Scully says “it went in 90 degree angle then turned 60 degrees”, and Mulder concludes “Like he was hunting for something.”

The shots widen out or cut back for shock value, it seems. Sanjay’s body is shown obliquely until Scully says she “looked everywhere” for clues, which prompts the camera to cut to a wide shot and hang on his sawed-open skull. The timing’s oddly comedic, the music is light, and nothing about the scene meshes. It quickly pancakes, leaving us and the characters with dead (heh) air.

The dialogue leans “we’re gonna do this next” telling rather than natural conversation showing.

And-- I’ve gotta be frank-- I’ve not caught an ounce of chemistry from DD and GA aside from the scene where they were talk about phone stealing and Indian languages.

The car scene contributed nothing... except a kid accidentally fell over the hood. Reaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaal covert set-up, I tell ya.

Sanjay’s other apartment scene was… weird. They walk around, find pictures of experiments on kids, barely react, trip the silent alarm so the police show up--

Sorry, no, wait. The police show up ASAP, in THIS part of town? NAH. Not happening.

Okay, the scene where Mulder has a… brain… thingy WORKS because it uses just the right amount of “new trick”: closeups without disorienting lens action slapped on top. THAT’s how you integrate a modernized technique into an older show; and it fits seamlessly into The X-Files.

SO WHY DIDN’T THEY DO THIS FROM THE GET-GO?

Also, Scully may have had cancer, but she never had migraines. Those seem to be reserved for Mulder.

Oh, we’re in Skinner’s office now. I guess.

The clips are so poorly paced, switching or holding or integrating at the weirdest times. It even undercuts Mulder’s quips or Scully’s reactions.

On a side note, DD and GA probably had a hard time finding their characters-- as they mentioned for both IWTB and the Revival-- because all they had to work off of was plot regurgitation. ....What do you do with that?

I love the touch of Skinner playing hardball until Corporate Interest Guy leaves, then immediately switching to, “I assume you’re going to need [classified] copies, right?”

…

…..

…….

Scully really doesn’t have much to add, does she?

OH, we’re in the basement now. We're just... here. The first scene of these two back down here and they're just. Here. ...'Kay.

Mulder and Scully talking over his experience is the closest I’ve gotten to mature MSR… and it’s ruined by Scully stating the obvious, “There were no sounds. I didn’t hear anything.”

LOOK, OKAY? Mulder became CATATONIC before with these exact same symptoms and was only saved by a secret science mumbo jumbo brain surgery, WHY ISN’T SHE WORRIED. It’s equivalent to her getting a nosebleed and just wiping it away, no big deal.

“Mulder, what are you hiding?”

He’s not hiding anything, Scully, he’s telling you.

But if he were, that’d be outta character even for Beanpole Sneakybritches. By this point, he’d have a functioning theory to share with the class-- which he did, lest we forget-- or developed a taste for Hercule Poirot drama while holed up in depressed isolation, I guess. (Which you left him to, Scully, so this is your fault, tangentially.)

Which would be stupid.

(Note from the future: He was hiding something, but it didn't make sense how he leaped to that conclusion, anyway; so, logically, he has nothing to hide from her in this scene.)

But when's that stopped the show before?

“What are you hiding?”

“Sanjay heard sounds right before he died. It could be you, Mulder.”

WHAT.

Scully and Mulder established in the lab that Sanjay heard noises right before he died.

Mulder heard noises.

Tells Scully in the basement.

Scully: “I didn’t hear noises.” No reaction.

Scully: “What are you hiding?”

Mulder explains his frequency theory.

Scully doesn’t see how it fits.

Mulder: “What are you hiding?”

Scully: “Sanjay heard sounds right before he died. It could be you, Mulder.” No reaction.

PLEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASE END MY SUFFERING.

16 min. in.

Been typing nearly an hour (a dying keyboard’ll do it to ya.)

“This is dangerous,” Scully says, flatly.

“When has that ever stopped us?” Mulder asks, brightly.

He is quite literally trying to pump life back into her-- WHO directed GA this way? You can tell which scenes she is given freer reign in (more natural, less muted) and which ones she is more tightly “guided” (less alive, more dead.)

How is she spry enough to be a field agent? How is Mulder? Skinner hasn’t aged a day but these two have been MOWED. DOWN. DD and GA aren’t like this in real life, so what gives?

Our Lady of Sorrows, go away.

It’s Karen Kosseff except it isn’t.

Mulder and Scully sneakily scare the daylights outta a Conservative-adjacent medical personnel with the dreaded threat of an “Obamacare” witchhunt... and at this point, the social commentary seems performative rather than intelligent.

I’m not gonna break it down by politics; but suffice to say, while Mulder and Scully were never above a little “campaign of misinformation”, but they've never stooped low enough to fearmonger-- in fact, they looked down on those who did.

CC-- he wrote this episode, too, right?-- turned them from FBI agents with ethics into Secret Agents with a dose of Krycekian immorality.

Just when I think I’ve “found” MSR, the writing snatches them back from me.

…And ANOTHER THING.

Ever since IWTB, Our Lady of Sorrows has been an awful, horrible, no-good, close-minded facility stuffed to the brim with egos and bottom-of-the-barrel intelligence. At least they’ve been upgraded from “let the kid die” psychopaths to “OBAMACARE?? INVESTIGATING OUR SAINTED, CONSERVATIVE COLLEAGUE????” Which makes them stupidly impressionable and stupendously ignorant of the law. Which they would know… because it affects their hospital.

There’s no hint (thus far) that Scully has some dirt on them and maneuvers them into compliance by hinting at certain shortcuts they wouldn’t want investigated. No. Instead, she weaponizes their faith-- calling the guy they want to interview a “godsend”-- despite sharing it, and despite taking all matters of belief very seriously; then lets Mulder slip in the Obamacare line because… Conservative medical professionals would cow in the face of that implication instead of, I don’t know, stonewalling to protect their ranks?

It’s such a silly, nonsensical line.

I just want old Mulder and Scully back, is that too much to ask for?

And the lady almost stonewalled, anyway. It was pure luck that Scully pulled the right emotional strings.

UGH.

“I’ll agree to relay a message,” Not-Karen says… then walks off before asking what that message would be. …Sure, fine, that makes sense.

Pregnant teen or young woman and….

And….

WHAT, IS THIS A CONTINUED PLOT POINT???????????

ANOTHER PREGNANCY PLOTLINE?????????? DO THE POWERS-THAT-BE NO LONGER HAVE ACCESS TO TUBES OR JARS OR WHATHAVEYOU TO GROW THEIR EXPERIMENTS, OR DID THEY ALL COPYPASTE THE EVES' AND DR. PARENTI’S VERY SPECIFIC NICHE?????

Hate the camera angles, too, uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh.

Used and abused women, dismissed young mothers, callous Catholic hospitals…. It’s so… vitriolic. And all so poorly handled.

“Desire is the devil’s pitchfork,” oh, great, the Catholic nun? lady is eeeeeeeeeeevil, who would have knooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooown--

WHY. DOES. MULDER. SOUND. SO. OLD.

No wonder DD and GA think the series isn’t really about happy endings, they were shuffling around like geriatric Eeyores half the time.

Scully pushing back against Mulder protecting her from the incubation theory right after he tells her the incubation theory: in a word, disjointed. She needed to confront him BEFORE he spells it out to her--

…My brain melted and I lost the thought…. Wait…. Nope, it’s gone.

“Is this what you believe happened to me, fifteen years ago? When I got pregnant, when I had my baby?” WWWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAT.

“Mybaby”??????????? After all this time, MY BABY.

WHY ISN’T GA ACTING APPROPRIATELY, SHE’S GIVING US NOTHING DESPITE BEING THE SOLE EMOTIVE PERSON ON THIS TEAM.

IF THAT LINE IS MEANT TO IMPLY SHE’S CREATING DISTANCE WITH “MY BABY” BECAUSE SHE THINKS MULDER IS DISOWNING WILLIAM, YOU’VE NOT ESTABLISHED, AT ALL, THAT RETICENCE IS PART OF HER SELF-PRESERVATION-- NOT ONE TIME, SINCE THE REVIVAL STARTED.

AND IF THAT WERE THE CASE, SCULLY WOULD HAVE ACCUSED HIM DIFFERENTLY: NOT FLAT AND TIRED, BUT FLAT AND ANGRY. WHERE’S SCULLY’S ANGER THAT SHE’S HAD FROM DAY ONE, THAT SHE LOST RIGHT AFTER EXISTENCE SAID HAPPILY-EVER-AFTER????????

GIVE ME GUMPTION, GIVE ME SPIT, GIVE ME FIRE, GIVE ME RIGHTEOUS INDIGNATION!!!!

SO THEY ABANDONED THE INCUBATOR TALK TO TALK ABOUT HER REGRETS, I GUESS.

THERE WAS NO POINT A TO POINT B, WE’RE JUST HERE NOW.

I don’t mind the rehash-- Mulder and Scully both had a habit of doing that, back in the day… but I’m not getting any of MULDER or SCULLY from these two… Revival robots.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhh, this is the “what could have been” episode. Thanks, I’m gonna hate it.

“Do you think he could have been an experiment?”

“I don’t know,” GET OUTTA HERE, ACTUALLY GET OUTTA HERE.

MULDER’S WHOLE ARC IN ESSENCE-EXISTENCE WAS THAT HE KNEW THE MATH ADDED UP TO BEING WILLIAM’S FATHER (though the writers did their best to obfuscate that issue) BUT WAS AFRAID SCULLY’S BABY WOULD BE BORN WITH SURPRISES. INSTEAD, HE WAS A NORMAL, HEALTHY BABY; AND MULDER CALLED HIS SON A MIRACLE BECAUSE OF IT.

BEFORE SEASON 9 RETCONNED IT, ANYWAY. BUT EVEN THEN, WILLIAM WAS UNDENIABLY HIS MINI MULDER.

Even in IWTB, how many years later, Mulder still considered William theirs.

Also, waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaait.

Pause.

Rewind.

Stop.

Mulder misses William but had to put that “behind him.”

That. has got to be. The most. antithetical statement to Mulder’s character that I have ever. Ever. heard.

You can’t have it both ways, CC: Mulder can’t be pushed by the ghosts of his past into wrecking his and Scully’s relationship, twice (IWTB and the Revival), while also putting HIS CHILD behind him.

nnooooooooooooooooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOnonononononNONONONONONONO.

THAT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE. THAT MAKES NO SENSE.

YOU’RE A LIAR, A LYING LIAR LIAR FACE.

THAT’S NOT MULDER.

MULDER WOULD NEVER SAY THAT.

SCULLY MIGHT, BUT EVEN THEN SHE’D STILL BE LYING TO HERSELF.

Scully was shattered into a million pieces in My Struggle I, and Mulder is obliterated in this one.

How.

Absolutely.

Lovely.

Also, again, Scully isn’t emoting fear or terror for her son. At all.

NORMAL SCULLY VOICE??????????????????????????????????

NORMAL. SCULLY. VOICE????????????????????????????????????????

WHAT.

I’M, I’M, WHAT.

FOR THE FLASHBACKS, BUT NOT FOR THE SERIES????????????????????????

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

The cutback from the flashback-dreamsequence-whatever to Scully just… sitting there. Not napping. Not dreaming, just. Thinking, I guess.

But the sequence was obviously a dream, so.

Can you imagine if she snapped upright from her dream, possibly at her desk? The gifs sets that could have been made mirroring this moment to Mulder’s nightmare in Paper Hearts.

THERE’S THE SAME “OPEN THE DESK DRAWER TO SEE A PHOTO” MOTIF, TOO.

...WHY IS THAT ASSISTANT WALKING LIKE SHE'S ON A CATWALK?

That actress said, “This is my big shot, I’m gonna stick out” (literally), and dressed to kill.

…Or she’s a piece of commentary on the Evil Scientist Doctor and the male gaze, or something.

Guys, no facility would have kids kept behind glass cages for their entire lifespan.

That’s dumb.

Scully tells the scientist he’s testing (trying to isolate) for alien DNA. He shows them out.

Agnes (the teen or young mother) got killed and her baby taken, of course.

At least Scully’s no longer pretending medical people aren’t stealing babies or creating mutants, I guess.

I GUESS.

Mulder had to wiggle his way over to the printer because his Patriarchy Pants (first sighting!) are too tight. (Told you his fashion swings in the opposite direction.)

Mulder said, “This is my skinny jean era”, and I think I’m traumatized.

Syndicate wanted to colonize the world with alien-human hybrids, says Mulder. And though it was unsuccessful--

(HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT)

--he doubts they stopped trying.

So, that sweeps away the Supersoldiers, I guess.

Since, y’know, the Revival said the aliens were never involved to begin with.

So it was just the government making a hoax of the government hiding aliens but pretending they weren’t but really were but weren’t.

Got it.

What did Scully’s study about all European men being traced back to three individuals in the Bronze age (that’s a reference to Shem, Ham, and Japheth, isn’t it CC?) have to do with Mulder’s point other than for her to talk about her study.

An illustrative hypothetical:

Mulder: “Everyone loves juice.”

Scully: “I read a paper last year that found the three most favored juice flavors tie back to the Whirligig tastebud genome.”

…’Kay.

I HAVE FIFTEEN MINUTES LEFT, LET IT EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEND.

Jackie (Evil Scientist Man's “insane” wife) doesn’t like cats and threw an apple at it. …Why’s there a loose cat in the “mental asylum”?

They put in the spooky track from the original show-- the tinkling symbol sound-- when she recounted her daughter breathing underwater, but I liked that bit.

Good filming, good bit.

Jackie was being used for experiments, crashed her car, was forced via the brain thingy to cut her child out, the end.

…Oh, right, this plot was supposed to be about Sanjay.

My bad.

You forgot, too, didn’t you.

…Why doesn’t Jackie like cats again?

(Note from the future: Jackie feared her biological daughter because she had supernatural abilities; and ran away hoping to save her son from the same experimentation and fate. ...But her son? (or her daughter?) already had powers and forced her to cut him out??? by manipulating her brain????????? to find his way back to his sister??????????????? Even though he was a baby??????????????????? (She still doesn't know this and wishes she could see him again...????????????????????????????????????????)

This is such a BAD. SCRIPT.

It has no direction, it swings wildly from topic to topic, nothing really connects together, it’s all… nonsensical garbage.

Mulder gets closeted at a gay bar, the Catholic lady hates men and thinks unwed mothers are damaged, women are made to cut babies out of their stomachs, Mulder put William behind him, Scully has a waking dream instead of a sleeping one, aaaaaaaaaaaaand… Jackie hates cats.

No, you will not get a logical explanation for any of this.

Awwww, look, Jackie’s talking about her missing boy because she thinks about him “every day” but hasn’t seen him since and so does Scully, of course, and Mulder can sense that so he, looks, too, and this case will make him cling to William’s memory again and--

One word. Riverdale.

“All my training-- everything that I know about psychology--” WHAT. Scully, you’re a medical doctor, not a psychologist. Definitely not a psychiatrist.

So Mulder can read x-rays with medical accuracy, and Scully can read Indian and diagnose someone’s psychological state.

Great.

Just peachy.

By the way, if you’re wondering why Mulder keeps getting bumped into or keeps peripherally noticing janitorial staff at each location, here’s your payoff (NO, IT WASN’T HAMFISTED, YOU JUST DIDN’T NOTICE THAT THIS WAS A PLOT POINT AT ALL, IT'S SO CLEVER):

The janitors work for a larger company that also services the hospitals. And Sanjay’s company.

….Eh? Eh? Clever isn’t it??

NOITISN’T.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, so the kids are dying and inadvertently killing… off… their… parent? Or something? Or the reverse?

(Note from the future: Jackie feared her biological daughter because she had supernatural abilities; and ran away hoping to save her son from the same experimentation and fate. ...But her son?-- or her daughter?-- already had powers and forced her to cut him out??? by manipulating her brain????????? to find his way back to his sister??????????????? Even though he was a baby??????????????????? And she still doesn't know this, hoping to see him again someday...????????????????????????????????????????

THAT DOESN'T EXPLAIN WHY THE TEEN/YOUNG WOMAN WAS ALSO FORCED TO CUT HER BABY OUT AFTER BEING HIT BY A CAR, per the baby's instructions. Because that's what the episode says happens.

DO THESE ALIEN BABIES HAVE SOMETHING AGAINST VEHICULAR MANSLAUGHTER OR WHAT????)

Guys, this is dumb.

Mulder’s stupid sunglasses.

But he looks goofy overall, so I’ll CHOOSE to be endeared rather than angry or petulant.

(IchoosethisIchoosethisIchoosethisIchoosethis--)

Wait, why does Mulder keep getting affected by the brain thing?

More importantly.

The episode is setting up a few, blatant parallels:

These parents are having brain problems.

Their kids are experimentation kids.

William's probably an experimentation kid.

Which is stupid, but would then prove Mulder is the biological father.

They will sacrifice this parallel to the plot but also because Scully, not Mulder, ends up being the one to communicate constantly with William.

Which would prove William-Jackson is still Scully's biologically.

(Note from the future: This complete theory is debunked in about two seconds; but will be recycled later for Scully's Morse Code seizure. Wonderful.)

It’s all.

So.

Stupid.

Stupid sunglasses.

I…

I died laughing.

Guys.

I’m gonna include a clip because it’s so goofy.

Context: Mulder’s brain thingy is acting up, so Scully has to run around to find a kid-- Kyle-- so he’ll… help? her partner. Hence, we have Gillian trying to keep up her Revival smoker voice whilst running off and shouting, “KYyyYYyyyyYYLLllelleleee”:

This is The X-Files.

Weep and gnash your teeth in torment.

This is old.

Sorry, Mulder’s ears should be busted by now. Gimme fic where he now has to use hearing aids.

They grabbed Kyle and stuffed him in the car.

Ahh, this is the scene where Mulder looks back at Kyle and someone mentioned it looks like Mulder looking back at William in another, better universe (post here.)

Okay, so, this kid doesn’t mean to hurt people by communicating with his mind, buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut was or wasn’t responsible for Sanjay’s death (who was helping him.)

Scully decides “LET’S PRETEND TO HAND HIM OVER TO HIS EVIL SCIENTIST DAD IN ORDER TO FIND HIS SISTER” and that sound and reasonable. As reasonable as a starving pig at a pie fair.

Wait.

The kid was a janitor.

Sanjay was helping him.

Sanjay was working for Evil Scientist dude.

Sanjay was trying to figure out where the kid's sister was, or he knew where she was but wasn't telling the kid?

The kid-- Kyle-- accidentally killed Sanjay because his... powers were outta control?

And... the kid can connect with different people's minds and that's how he hacked Mulder's brain (which retracts my biological theory... until, again, Scully's Morse Code seizure reinforces it.)

But the kid attacked Mulder when Mulder and Scully questioned his mom... didn't he already know who Mulder was?

And the kid kept pressuring Sanjay to find his sister, so much so that Sanjay hadn't been able to sleep well or function in weeks?

So, this kid's... questionable, at best.

Evil Scientist, M.D., pretended to introduce the kid to his sister, but Kyle wasn't BAMBOOZLED nor FOOLED.

Oh, btw, this kid is Jackie’s son. Looks an awful lot like William-Jackson... but anyway. (Jackson's storyline is brazenly ripped off from CC's own material, wow-- right down to the "never saw my son again" line. The writers have charming things to say about adopted families in The X-Files.)

Now he’s running around the hospital looking for Molly (the sister who scared Jackie because she can breathe underwater, etc. etc.)

Reunited with Molly.

Now the kids are throwing the adults with their minds and killing Evil Scientist Badman with the brain thing in order to stay reunited, I guess. Like the Eves. (Another rip-off recycle of their own source material.)

SO, anyway, the Evil Scientist Father died a very gruesome death.

Cut to the place swarmed with FBI.

Another guy said, “Skinner, keep your sfjfkfsdfksj behind the red tape.” I think. Can’t understand him.

Guys, this is the first Mulder-and-Scully posturing I’ve seen since the series began. Praise be, they’re not mannequins.

Here's the Mulder and William "could have been"s.

See, guys? His faith is back. He’s choosing to remember his son and reengage with his past~.

Yeah, and where did THAT come from.

To recap:

Mulder had depression sometime after 2012, so bad that it made Scully… leave, I guess (which would have been a death sentence for someone with a temperament like Mulder’s.)

But he shouldn't have had depression after 2012 because 2012 just reset the Colonization clock (according to he, himself, and his theory.)

So, he’s got "no reason" depression, then disconnects from Conspiracies and shoves away memories of William.

But he hadn’t had a breakdown or disconnect from reality before My Struggle I (which made Scully’s decision to leave even stupider.)

And Scully worries he’ll have a breakdown in My Struggle I.

And he actually didn’t leave Conspiracyville despite also leaving it and knowing things he shouldn’t and not knowing things he should.

Following?

Conspiracy guy calls up Skinner who calls up Scully who calls up Mulder; and he and she don't hesitate to investigate despite putting “that life” behind them.

There were no aliens, period, only men in government wearing suits or planting false memories or whathaveyou.

He’s still got depression but doesn’t, actually, in My Struggle I despite Scully thinking he does and worrying he’ll have a breakdown despite knowing he left Conspiracyville but not coming home, etc. etc.

Both are let into the FBI.

Still following?

He put William behind him but engages in conspiracies now (despite still engaging in them while not engaging in them-- you get it.)

Let me reiterate: Mulder. put someone that he loved. behind him.

Mulder makes peace with the thought that William’s his son regardless and daydreams about movies and rocketships.

And that’s that on all his hangups, I guess. His crops are watered and his depression is cured.

And now he and Scully are installed at the FBI... despite the unlikelihood either of them would pass the physical tests, let alone the training they'd need to requalify. To put them on the field otherwise would be very, very dangerous... right, Skinner?

The End.

Just make this easier for me next time and beat a bat over my head.

I do have another nitpick.

Mulder is too downcast in his “happier times” flashbacks, especially compared to Scully’s buoyant, sweet, upbeat persona. So, basically, he has a stunning lack of imagination, I guess.

Which, jokes aside, is an interesting thought: Mulder creating realities in his mind so convincingly mapped onto his current one that it’s even more devastating to snap out of them and face each and every unsatisfying day.

Also, both he and Scully have the same sort of nightmare....

This had BETTER be Jackson’s way of reaching out to them for help, or so help me I’m going to label these moments as narrative clickbait.

EYYYYYY, we got an actual Mulder “NO!” It sounded like him, too! FINALLY! SPIRIT! SPUNK! THE MULDER ESSENCE.

Oh, yeah, that William can get yeeted-- he doesn’t fit my headcanon, anyway.

Mulder's sitting upright, too, without having woken from a nightmare.

…So this was a deliberate choice on the filmmakers’ part.

So this is setting up for something. Like William communicating to them BOTH in waking dreams.

We all know that won’t happen, but, anyway.

CONCLUSION

YOU’RE NOT GETTING ME WITH THE HAPPY FAMILY TIMES, YOU MANIPULATORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.

YOU CAN’T TAKE ME ALIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE.

Also: very rarely do I like movie kitchens, but Mulder's... it's alright.

Lastly: again, I am so tired.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

#txf #React #mine #A Late-Canon Reviler Gives the Revival a Try #Part II #S10 #Founder's Mutation #Revival Reviler's first-time watch through #Revival #x-files #the x files #xfiles #Mulder #Scully #William #first-time watch through #thoughts #xf meta #uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh

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deansapplepie · 8 months

Text

Till THE DEAD do us part |Chapter 18

Chapter 17 Chapter 19

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter 18: I ain’t sleeping with Hershel

Summary: The group is hopeless until they find the prison, now they try to build a new home. While which one of them have to deal with their own issues.

Warnings: swearing, outbursts, walker killing, blood, gore, nightmares, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of baby being possibly dead, misunderstanding, fights, reader can be a brat, insecurities, jealousy (nit the reason for insecurities), reader and Lori implying Daryl would substitute reader for Rick (that’s a joke). Minors do not interact. (I probably forgot something because this chapter have a lot of things happening)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader (Rick’s Sister)

Word Count: 4,615

A/N: Not proofread. Not one of my best writing. This was a chapter I was expecting to write since I started, and I’m a little disappointed on how it came out. My summary also sucks.

It had been 8 months, 8 long months of survival on the road, finding shelter here and there but never for too long. You had found a house near a small road, the men and little specimen of man (Carl), went to the house to clean it of walkers. You preferred being in action, killing walkers and shit, but Lori had a enormous belly, soon she was going to give birth, so all care she could have was necessary, so you’d better stay behind and take care of her.

Hershel was trying to teach you how to deliver a baby, well you knew the basics, you had already helped many puppies and kittens born. Ok, it wasn’t the same thing, but… you had also told Hershel you didn’t know if you wanted to do this. She was your sister-in-law, medically speaking you shouldn’t perform any surgery on her. ‘If something happens to me, I need someone that’s going to be able to do so.’ He used to say, and you would always say the same ‘nothing is happening to you, I’m protecting you.’. To which he always replied he was too old, and you couldn’t protect him from that. Being responsible to act on big medical ‘events’ of the group still made you nervous and uncomfortable, you wish you had an actual doctor in the group so you didn’t need to be one of the docs and be put in the same level as Hershel, when you clearly wasn’t. You still doubted your abilities as a vet, which you studied to actually be one… how could you take care of humans? You knew it wasn’t like there was many doctors around, so you’d have to do.

You entered the house carrying all the things you’d need, it was a lot of things for people that didn’t have a place to live. There were days since all of you had a decent meal, everyone looked apathetic, as if life had been drawn from you. You gathered around what looked like a living room, silent… Daryl sat by your side, an owl at his hands, plucking it. You used to love owls, so beautiful and majestic, symbol of wisdom… but at this moment you couldn’t care less and was even proud your man had caught it.

You noticed Carl at the corner near Beth, he had a can of something in his hand and was opening it. Was it dog food? God, how did you end up like this? You’d eat it and wouldn’t complain. You’d be happy to have whatever in your stomach. Looking at that food, you remembered Luna and how you had missed her all those months… before you could go deep into your thoughts you got startled when Rick took the can from Carl’s hand and threw it to the other side of the room, making a resounding noise that echoed around the house.

What was his problem? That was food, regardless of what kind! You were ready to get up and tell him off, but Daryl grabbed your hand and motioned with his head for you to not do that. You deep breathed and started counting… until T. announced there were a large group of walkers coming and you need to flee as fast as you could.

At some point you stopped again to make some fire and cook the owl Daryl had killed. Owls were mostly made of feathers, there was little meat, but beggars can’t be choosers… so each of you got your small share of it.

“Let’s go hunt something.” Daryl told Rick. “The owl wasn’t even a starter.”

“I’m going with you.” I promptly said, but I already knew they would refuse my company, again. They often did it, and it was annoying.

“Stay with Lori, she might need you. Besides that you’re better trained than the others, I need your protection here.” Rick stated and you just rolled your eyes.

“You don’t even believe your own words.” You said, then you turned to the hunter. “Don’t take too long and bring something delicious, ok?”

“Yes ma’am! I’m at yer orders.” He kissed your temple before taking his crossbow and disappearing with Rick.

You stayed behind with the others against your will, you crossed your arms and observed the two men disappearing in the woods. Soon Lori, Carol and Maggie joined you. “Stop pouting, they just went hunting.” Maggie elbowed you playfully.

“Without me.” You stated. You got frustrated every time they left without you, especially Daryl. “They spend more time together than with me! It’s like they’re substituting me.”

“Seriously, Y/N/N? Are you jealous of them?” Carol asked with a smile of amusement.

“Rick can substitute you, but Daryl can’t…” Maggie affirmed. Rick couldn’t, he was substituting you… it was rare when he seek you to talk or advice.

“Rick, it’s true. But Daryl… I don’t know, Rick has a quite beautiful ass.” Lori joked, Rick and she were still not talking, but moments like this would bring her some sense of normalcy, just as if they were friends gossiping in the kitchen and there were no walkers around.

“Hey! I have a beautiful ass too.” You protested.

“Of course, you’re siblings.” Lori shrugged then she put one of her arms around your waist. “You worry too much, they’re men. They need this time away from us. Besides… I need you here, I feel better with my sis and the baby too.”

“Ugh… you always know the right words to convince me. Ok, let them be. I’d rather pass my time with my girls.” You told them and hugged Lori resting your hand on her belly.

“Or boy.” Lori completed, because you didn’t know the baby’s gender.

“Nah, I have a feeling it’s a baby girl. So, I prefer to pass my time with 4 of my favorite girls.” You said a grin on your face.

After a time, that felt like eternity, they came back with news that they found a place, a prison and you could stay there and make it your home. You just had to… take it back from the walkers.

You had to work together to take the yard. First you had to cut the fence so you could enter and after it you needed to close it again. That wasn’t the most difficult part, there was no walker in the corridors around the fence, but the yard…. It was full of them. Also, one of the gates was open and it needed to be closed otherwise you’d not be able to fight all of them. Rick wanted to close the gate while the rest of you distracted the walkers and covered him. The plan was perfectly executed and you could all clear the yard out of walkers.

It gave hope to all of you. If you could clean part by part, soon you’d have a place you could call home. A safe place to live. A place for Lori to have the baby, a little bit of the domestic life again. Later that day you were all reunited around the fire, eating the little hunt Daryl and Rick got earlier. Some chatted, Beth sang a beautiful song… Rick was near the fence that separated you from the walkers on the patio, it was safe, he could come to the fire, but he wouldn’t. You could go and try talking him into resting and relaxing near the bonfire, but you knew he wouldn’t listen to you. He never did. Not anymore.

Daryl was on top of a toppled bus, watching or something. Carol went there to take some food for him. They had developed a nice and kind friendship since the farm, you were glad he was getting close to everyone in the group. Even though you sometimes felt jealous, you just pushed this feeling to the coffins of your mind and didn’t think about it. You knew him, you trusted him. You knew Carol, she was your friend. Besides that you were also jealous of him and your brother, so this wasn’t something you had to take seriously.

Later that night, you were laying on a blanket close to the fire and in Daryl’s arms, and you couldn’t help but think about the future. “Do you think we’ll be able to make this our place?” You asked him, your hand playing with a thread from his poncho.

“Ya’re the positive one ‘ere. Don’t you think we’ll make this place our home?” He told you. You had changed during the last months, all of you. You and him, you that would always reassure him, not the opposite. You used to always see things on the bright side of it, but you found closure and lost it so many times already, that you didn’t know if you could be like that again.

“I dunno. It’s just… we’re looking for a place for so long that it all just seems unreal. It’s like tomorrow I’m opening the eyes and we’ll still be on the road, or maybe something will happen and we’ll need to leave.” You tried to explain what you were feeling, but that wasn’t even the start of it.

“We’ll be fine. We can do it. I know. We’re making it a home.” He told you, he didn’t even know if he believed in his own words, but he trusted Rick and he said it would work. Also, he’d do anything to take those worries from your mind.

You snuggled into him and the warmth of his body and his unique scent, even when you didn’t have a descent bath in ages, engulfed you in comfort. After some time of comfortable silence between you, you drifted to sleep letting the exhaustion take you.

The next day you needed to take the patio and try to clean one of the cell blocks. Rick, Daryl, T.Dog, Glenn, Maggie and you worked together on taking the patio while the others kept at the fence trying to distract them. You used your crossbow and knife, you also had a gun, but all of you would rather not use it, since you were low in ammo and of course it attracted many of the dead if you used it. Some police walkers gave you a hard time, but soon Maggie discovered how to kill them and it became easier for you. As soon as you finished, you entered Block C and killed the few remaining walkers that were still inside.

After, all of you started to enter the Block and settle in, bringing your belongings and cleaning what you could and the best way you were able to. While that the men started to carry the corpses from the block and from the patio so they could burn them and finish cleaning the place you already had. You chose a cell in the upper floor, you looked at it and could already see you and Daryl living there.

You let your belongings outside of it and started to clean. You shook the bedsheets to take away the dust and then arranged it all again. The bunk was rather narrow, but you two pretty much slept so into each other that it wouldn’t be a problem and you could arrange it in the future. For someone that the day before wasn’t so sure if you could make this place a home, you were very excited.

You heard some cries coming from some cells away from yours, you walked there and found Lori. Carol was squatting in front of her, trying to comfort the pregnant woman. “What if the baby is dead?” She cried. “I feel like there’s something wrong.”

“There’s nothing wrong. You’re good, the baby is fine. Your belly is perfectly normal.” Carol reassured her.

“Yeah” you intervened, sitting by your sister-in-law side and caressing her back. “Don’t worry. I’m a doc, ain’t I? I’m saying it and you can trust me.” You weren’t sure of your words, you were not this confident about treating people, but you wanted to soothe Lori in some way. “Do you want me to take Rick?”

“No! Not him. I… bring Hershel, please.” She asked, Rick wouldn’t give her any comfort. He didn’t even hug or kiss her in months… what good could possibly do having him around right now?

“Ok. I’m gonna take Hershel.” Carol got up and left to find the old man.

When the doctor of the group arrived, you left to give them some privacy, even though you already knew her worries.

Later that day everyone that hadn’t claimed a cell yet, was claiming one and preparing to have a well deserved rest after such hard work. You approached Daryl, excited to tell him about the cell you had arranged for both of you, but you weren’t expecting his answer. “D., I cleaned that one for us. We just need to take our things there.” You said pointing to a cell further in the end of the corridor upstairs.

“I ain’t sleeping in a cage like a damn animal.” He was quick to answer, giving you his back and going to a place on the stairs where he’d placed a mattress and his things. He didn’t know his words had come so harsh, he didn’t even reflect about it before saying. His aversion was exclusively, because his brother had already been in jail, also being on jail was something that everybody where he came from expected from him, even though he had never been, not even because of bar fights or shit, and let’s say that the Dixons never ran from a good fight.

He had hit right at your feelings. You were taken aback by his harsh words, you weren’t expecting this. You were tired, the last months had been exhausting and for the first time in months you had a safe and rather decent place to rest. You turned your back and walked in the direction of the cell. When he turned back he saw you getting distant, with your back turned to him, he didn’t see the hurt you were feeling, but he was also with questions on his mind, why wasn’t it obvious to you that he didn’t want to sleep on a cell and neither alone? He had no reaction.

‘Maybe she needs some time alone’, he thought throwing himself at the mattress not even caring about taking off his boots.

‘Maybe he doesn’t want me’, that was what was in your insecure ass mind, everything was so good, so why couldn’t you just get over it.

You took your things from outside the cell and entered it, throwing you shoes anywhere and after jumping on the bed. This was the most comfortable bed you had had in months, but you felt there was no joy in it, if you weren’t sharing it… well at least he had his own mattress all alone somewhere. The exhaustion took your body and soon you drifted to sleep, but that didn’t mean it would be a good restorative night of sleep.

You were at the prison patio, the sky was cloudy and the air was sultry. Near the gates you saw a group of people, they were inside and had their back turned to you… but their silhouettes were so familiar… one of them wore a fisher hat and wasn’t very tall. “Dale? Is that you?” You asked, it just could be him, but how was it possible. Then they turned one by one…

Dale with his guts falling outside his stomach, a walker. Also, Amy, Jim, Jacqui, Sophia, Jimmy, Shane and Patricia. All of them walkers, even Amy, Jacqui, Dale and Shane that you knew there was no chance of being there. And then, contouring them, came a dog, a german Shepherd, your Luna and god… how you missed her! But she wasn’t her anymore, she had also become a walker version of herself. You didn’t even know if the animals could be affected, but you didn’t have time to care, because she ran in your direction and jumped on you.

You woke up sitting in the bed. You were sweating. A scream caught in your throat, unable to get out. That was better, you didn’t want to wake everybody up. One hand on your chest feeling a burning sensation you always woke up with when you had nightmares. The other hand on your mouth muffling your sobs. You were tempted about getting up and looking for Daryl’s arms, but you resisted the urge. He was the one that made you sleep alone. You weren’t thinking straight. It wasn’t that you never had nightmares sleeping with him, you still had them from time to time, but at least you were in his arms and felt protected. It didn’t let you sink in your intrusive thoughts.

After some time, you didn’t know how long after, you laid again in bed and tried to think about anything else else that wasn’t that nightmare. It would be good if you found the infirmary, you would complain if the library was still good and had good books, you’d love if you found some ammo…

You woke up with the sun touching your face, you felt as if you had been hit by a truck. Your body was painful and you were super sleepy. You put your shoes on, the gun in the holster, the knife on your waist and the crossbow across your body. You left the cell while you made your hair into a ponytail and walked to the stairs. Daryl was already up, he stopped everything when he saw you. You looked at him and remembered what you went through having to sleep by yourself. “Good morning.” You said, you were still a polite person after all, even angry at your boyfriend.

“ ‘morning pup.” He caught you when you passed by him, before you could finish descending the stairs. Both of his arms wrapped around you, he pulled your back against his chest and his face on your shoulder.

Ok. You were not understanding him at all. The day before he pushed you away, and now he’s all lovely to you. You inhaled, and delicately you took his hands from you and left his embrace and went down the stairs. He didn’t understand a single thing. You loved morning hugs, you needed them to start your day and he was there giving you that without caring if anyone would see and he would feel embarrassed, so why were you so cold?

You walked to the common area where most of the awake people were gathered, you didn’t have anything to eat, but it wasn’t any news. You saw Rick, wished him a good morning and hugged him. Ok, now Daryl was remembering every step he gave in the last months just so he knew exactly what he did wrong. “Your eyes are swollen, have you been crying?” Your brother asked, first time in a long time he noticed something about you.

“No, why would I? Just If I was too happy we have a decent bed to sleep after a long time.” You said, a tad bit of acid in your tone. Your brother knew better than pushing you, so he let it be. He looked at the archer, which he discovered to be a good friend after many months on the road, and Daryl’s eyes showed he was as clueless as him.

You soon start talking about going further in the prison and cleaning other places, finding new places and supplements. “ I’ll be very glad if we find the library!” You said getting a little bit excited just by thinking about having books to read it.

“Oh it would be fantastic!” Hershel agreed. “I haven’t found a single good book the whole time we were in the road.”

“Alright” Rick said after you finished talking about everything that you could find in the prison. “I think we can go.”

“Don’t go.” You heard Daryl by your side, a gentle hand on your upper arm.

“Why shouldn’t I, Dixon?” God, he was so screwed… now he knew he was the problem, you almost never called him Dixon, not even in a sweet playful manner. So he knew it.

“Ya don’t look good.” He tried again.

“Well, good thing I’m going to kill walkers and not to a fashion show.” You faked a sweet smile.

“Wha’s up with the attitude?” He asked, he himself already getting annoyed.

“Just, I’m tired of being left out. I’m no damsel in distress so you have to tell me all the time to stay behind. Also, I’m not staying to be ‘protected’ by a 12 year-old.” You finally took a breath between your words. “ ‘sides that you’re not my father, nor my husband to tell me what to do. Even if you were…”

“Are you two done?” Rick tried to intervene while everyone watched the discussion without understanding a single thing, just as lost as Daryl was.

“Shut up Rick, I’m not over.” Your brother’s eyes popped and he was ready to tell you off.

“Also, you are taking Hershel with you, an old man, but the idea of me going is so absurd! No offense Hershel, but you guys are taking our best doctor in a risky mission. And I should not go, because I don’t look good?!” You vomited facts all around that weren’t needed to be said, none of those people around you were the reason you were so pissed off. Maybe Rick, because he was always leaving you behind.

“Well, I ain’t sleeping with Hershel!” Daryl blurted out the sentence, losing his temper.

“Neither with me, apparently.” You retorted, and realization hit him.

“That’s why ya’re upset and causing an scene?” He threw at you.

“Upset? I was upset yesterday. Now, I’m angry.” You took a breath and just as if nothing had happened you told the others. “I’m waiting for you on the patio.”

You left and everyone stayed behind sharing looks and glances between them. Daryl grunted in frustration, god damn, he thought you wanted to be alone the day before, but in fact you probably understood he didn’t want to sleep with you.

“When you wanted relationship advices you should have asked Hershel, not me.” Rick patted his shoulder before leaving.

“Yeah, guess so.” Daryl mumbled under his breath.

“Son, you two need to communicate better.” Hershel said to him. “Also, be grateful you don’t sleep with me, I snore quite a bit.” The old man joked.

Daryl breathed one more time and looked around, his eyes landing on one of the bulletproof vests that you were able to find. He took it and his crossbow and left block C, joining you on the patio. He came in your direction holding the vest and you almost rolled your eyes.

“Hands up.” He said.

“I’m not wearing this shit. It’s heavy and I can hold myself well without it.” You said.

“Yes, you are if ya wanna go inside with us.” You laughed.

“And what are you going to do? Are you going to lock me up in a cell.” You teased.

“If ya continue to act like a fucking brat, yeah” he said. “Now put yer arms up. We’ll talk later. We suck at communication sometimes.”

“You two, stop it. We have work to do.” Rick told you, a finger pointed in your direction. “Watch duty for both of you tonight, and you better make up.”

You rolled your eyes and put your arms up, Daryl slid the vest through your arms and then adjusted it on your body. “Stay close, and dun do anything reckless, ‘kay? I ain’t protective ‘cause I think ya’re useless. It’s ‘cause…” ‘I love ya’, he completed in his mind. Why was it so easy to tell you while you were sleeping, but so difficult to say with you wide awake. “… I can’t lose ya.”

You really wanted to be mad at him, but you just couldn't. You almost broke when he back hugged you earlier, and now even if he called you a brat, and was even harsh, you just couldn’t when you saw his blue eyes soften on you. You had really been a brat, but who wouldn’t in your place? Rick retold all of you what you were supposed to do and reaffirmed you shouldn’t leave formation, and like this you entered the building.

It was very calm at first, no walking corpse on sight, but soon they started to appear, small groups of them, you killed one by one. You used the crossbow to stop them from coming closer, but when they did you’d use your knife. That was great until a group of them separated all of you. “fuck…” Where was everyone? You kept walking in the dark trying to avoid the walkers and killing them before they’d kill you.

You walked on your side trying to maintain your eyes everywhere until you knocked into something and almost panicked before discovering the something had arms and wrapped one around you and covered your mouth immediately so you didn’t scream. “Told ya to stay close.” Daryl whispered.

“I can guarantee, I didn’t separate from you on purpose.” You whispered as soon as he took his hand from your mouth.

You continued to walk together, till you reunited with the others and… the worst had happened. Hershel was bitten, god damnit! Couldn’t they just say no to the old man and have left behind? You were all cornered in a corridor when you found the cafeteria, without much thinking you all got inside and ran to Hershel’s aid.

You ripped the leg of his pants and looked at the bite. Fuck. Your doctor was bitten. You had to be the doctor. ‘Think fast! Think!’, you repeated it like a mantra inside your head, and then the idea hit you.

“A BELT! Someone give me a belt!” You commanded and Rick was fast to give you his. “I’m sorry Hershel, we have nothing to lose anymore, so I need to try this.”

You put the belt around his leg and restrained his blood from flowing. “Rick, you do it. I don’t think I’m strong enough to do it in one.” Rick took his hatchet and did what he had to cutting off the bitten part of Hershel’s leg. The doctor got unconscious, Maggie was despaired and blood was everywhere. Suddenly you heard a sound coming from the very end of the cafeteria, most of you aimed your weapons in the direction of the sound just to be met by 5 strange faces and none of them belonging to a dead person.

“Holy shit!” Exclaimed a ginger man.

Wanna be added to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series) Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325

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#daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #twd #twd daryl #daryl x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl x y/n #daryl imagines #twd daryl dixon #imagine daryl #daryl twd #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl x you #daryl x female reader #till the dead do us part #deansapplepie

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ilovehugslikealotalot · 1 year

Text

The New Arrival (Series)

Alcina Dimitrescu x Fem!Reader

┌───── •✧✧• ─────┐ Welcome to Castle Dimitresu └───── •✧✧• ─────┘

(not my gif)

for context I had a vote on my Wattpad acc bc I js did and basically New Maid with speech problems was in the lead and overall won the selection. I’ll try my best to make an Arranged Marriage one!

WARNING: 18+ MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE fluff, angst, smut

Part 1 ✿ஜீ۞ஜீ✿•.¸¸.•*•.•ஜீ☼۞☼ஜீ•.•*•.¸¸.•✿ஜீ۞ஜீ✿

The cold winter breeze hits y/n’s skin, she was quite literally walking from the village to Castle Dimitrescu. The freezing air seemed to bite and pick at her skin.

The villagers saw y/n get beaten everyday, thiugh they never did anything about it, eventually joining in. Such a shame that y/n’s parents died, she was an orphan for not long.

When y/n was younger she was heavily abused, beaten half to dead almost everyday by other villagers and her parents. So it was normal for her to be obedient and listen. She did tasks with high efficiency and perfection, it was all she knew.

Listen and you don’t get in trouble, don’t and you get beaten.

Over time, y/n would develop selective mutism and mental disorders. Because of these disorders y/n would become dependent on someone unless given orders. It truly was beginning to turn into a problem. So, Eleonor, y/n’s adoptive mother gave her a special coin. With two emblems on the front and back, y/n didn’t quite understand but she knew that if she must make a decision on her own she must flip the coin and decide.

Now, as y/n grows up she becomes this beautiful girl now in her 20s she sparks interest among the villagers, now, many men and women would bow at her feet and plead for her hand in marriage. Y/n, of course, didn’t understand nor did she want to reciprocate. So, she would turn her head to the side and smile politely.

Perhaps, working in Castle Dimitrescu wouldn’t be that unpleasant.

Maybe.

The gigantic door to the Castle slowly slid open, the creaking sent a shiver down y/n’s spine. A few noises came from her side but she paid no attention. Flutters of wings came into y/n’s point of hearing. There was buzzing and cackling. Y/n didn’t quite comprehend what was happening until a blonde girl was in front of her with a wicked smile, the two others giggling and cackling.

“Ooh, what’s this a new toy? You look delicious” the raven haired girl growled licking her lips, Bela pushed her away with a hand slighty.

“You must be the new maiden! Welcome to Castle Dimitrescu! I’m Bela, the red-haired girl is Daniela, and miss hungry over here is Cassandra” Bela grinned, y/n wondered as to why one of the Dimitrescu sister’s was being so nice.

Was it because she was a maiden now?

Daniela looked at y/n happily with a wide smile, “what’s your name?” Dani asked, quite enthusiastically, to Daniela and Cassandra’s surprise y/n didn’t respond. Bela pinched her younger sisters, “did you nit listen to a word Mother had said?!” Bela scolded, she huffed in annoyance, “she can’t talk! Come on, let’s take her to Mother.” Bela exclaimed, obviously irritated with her sisters. Bela had lifted up y/n and the sister’s carried her in fly form to their mother’s chambers

“Mother, your new plaything is here!” Cassandra laughed, earning a smack from Bela. Alcina looked up from the papers and smiled at her daughters, after a few seconds her eyes land on the most gorgeous woman she ever did see. Though, of course, Alcina would never admit that.

Her pride was something no one could take away from her and she refuse to let her guard down. Only her daughters get to see that side of her, only a couple have tried but of course they ended up into scarecrows and wine. Ugh. Mortals.

“Ah, you are so kinds to me, daughters. I was about to get up.” Alcina smiled softly, “Now, run along, me and this maiden have some business to attend.” Of course, the three daughter’s obeyed and erupted into a sawrm of flies buzzing out the room, their cackles still piercing the ears lf anyone near by.

Alcina didn’t waste time to call Melina, the head chamber-maiden to fetch y/n. It seemed as though it was the quickest 3 seconds of her life. Y/n couldn’t help but marvel at the beautiful countess’s face. The head chamber-maiden quickly dragged the girl away, afraid the countess’s temper might run thin. Especially, after all of the incident’s around the castle.

“Melina, guide our new maiden in her quarters then return here. There’s something I wish to discuss with you” Alcina had ordered, it wasn’t aggressive but soft. It made y/n wonder if the lady was as bad as the villagers made her to be.

Quickly, Melina nodded and walked with the silent girl to her chamber, the loud screams and cackles echoed through the castle, though, everyone remained unfazed. Melina had gracefully led y/n to her quarters. The Grand Chamber-Maiden had instructed y/n to stay in her quarters until she is fetched by her or another Maiden sent by her. “Understood?” She stated, firmly, Y/n blinked up at Melina, “Oh, right. I forgot about your…situiation. I suggest you do your best to not get attached to Lady Dimitrescu if she tries anything. And as for your, vocal problems I’ll make sure you’re in good hands, love” She cooed, patting y/n’s back with a loving look on her face. “You know, you are quite the gorgeous girl, dear”

“I wonder…how come you aren’t married with that beautiful face of yours…” She pondered, inspecting your face. She smiled, opening the door to y/n’s chambers.

“Welcome to Castle Dimitrescu”

✿ஜீ۞ஜீ✿•.¸¸.•*•.•ஜீ☼۞☼ஜீ•.•*•.¸¸.•✿ஜீ۞ஜீ✿

Tags: @marilynthornhilllover @willalove75

idk who else to tag 😭

comment if you wanna be tagged!

part 2

#alcina is my purpose #resident evil alcina #she’s so perfect #alcina dimitriscu x reader #lady dimitrescu x female reader #re8 lady dimitrescu #re8 #something lgbt just happened to me #this took fucking forever #hope and pray I don’t procrastinate #love alcina #she’s so fucking beautiful

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mitzymossy33 · 2 months

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Jinx is my comfort character, here’s why;

So, ima be real with y’all for a second , I’m nit someone who likes to go on and on about trauma and dump my issues into other people, but I feel the need to post this, before we start, TW for mental illness, SA, childhood trauma, etc. Read at your own risk. So, Jinx, is my comfort character, and you may be asking why? While I don’t have schizophrenia or schitzo-affective disorder or anything else that would enable me to have hallucinations, Unless you account taking 12 melatonin gummies in one night, (I did that ONE time, ONE, okay?). But anyways, enough with the jokes, while I personally don’t have hallucinations, my mom did. A little backstory, my mom has pretty severe mental issues stemming from lots of childhood trauma, first off, SA, her dad left, she started smoking and doing drugs at like 11, got sent to a CATHOLIC boarding school labeled for troubled girls in the 80s-90s (you can tell how that went down) and whole lot of other stuff. Anyways, yeah, a lot. That’s why I feel for Jinx so much, her hallucinations, where erratic behavior, everything, because it feels so real, I’ve seen a bit of discussion on whether or not Jinx is a good representation f mental illness and I have to advocate for yes, I’ve seen first-hand what mental illness and trauma can do to a person, and it is not pretty. I remember days when I my mom used to hold me and ‘I can’t see you, I can’t see you’ and at the time I didn’t think much of it, but now that I understand what she went through, my stomach churns thinking about it. Most of my life my face probably looked distorted to her, even my dad’s did. Imagine a world where you can’t see the faces of your loved ones. Anyways, I appreciate the realism of Jinx, the delusions, the hallucinations, the mood swings, the impulsivity, everything, it’s just portrayed so tastefully and I could not be more grateful, with a lot of ‘crazy characters’ for example Harley Quin in the Birds of Prey movie, well, yes, she’s supposed to be crazy, she lacks actual mental illness, or it’s just played for laughs. It feels shallow. Watch a few Harley Quin scenes where she’s supposed to be acting unstable and you’ll see what I mean. The problem with the manic pixie dream girl, is that she lacks, well, mania. With Jinx, we see that, we don’t just see ‘oh haha crazy=funny=sexy’ we see her struggle, it’s scary, terrifying, all the other characters have to walk on eggshells often so she doesn’t go off the rails, like in the dinner scene, they all know one wrong move and someone ends up dead, and someone did. She flinches and reacts at hallucinations, which to others may seem odd, but it was the same with my mother, she would always grunt and put her arms up in a defensive position, reliving that pain, and that trauma over and over again. It’s genuinely sad, but unfortunately, you can’t just have someone be fixed, it’s a tragic reality, and that’s why Jinx’s behavior feels like a lunch in the gut.

Another thing is Jinx’s identity thing, and while my mom didn’t start going by a new name, I personally relate to it, you see, because of my mom’s mental illness, and me being homeschool by her until sixth grade, it caused me to not have the best childhood myself. After I got out, and started processing and realizing what happened, I wanted to escape, I did this through maladaptive daydreaming, escaping into my own world where I was a new person, free of of what happened, someone who went through much worse and still came out on top, and that gave me comfort, because if she could do it, why couldn’t I? Anyways, at my worst in my mental health, this got taken to a new extreme, I started hating my birth name, wanting to separate myself from it and be a new person entirely, I went Cass, Cassie, Cassandra, and Moss, until I settled on Mossy. It was my way of reclaiming my freedom, saying that I wasn’t that same little girl who was so isolated that covid felt like nothing changed. That I wasn’t that little girl who had to listen as my mom had mental breakdowns, as my parents relentlessly fought, as my mom shook me and told me god’s an A-hole. It was a separation of identity, kill the past, embrace the future. And while I don’t hate my birth name anymore, I still choose to go by Mossy online for sake of privacy, as well as it just being my nickname. I feel the need for freedom from the Jinx and Powder thing. I love how realistic Jinx is, and I can only wish for her to have a happy ending, even though that is extremely unlikely. But, if you stuck it out this far, thank you for sticking around and I hope you didn’t mind my bit of trauma-dumping, just really wanted to pour my personal views and experiences into the amazing show that is Arcane!

Anyways, I hope you like my analysis, I wanted to go more in depth, but my memory was fogging up due to my brain blocking out what happened. Maybe I’ll edit this or update it somewhere in the future, but for now, this is what I got.

#arcane #arcane jinx #analysis

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starysky1289 · 6 months

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Baby blues. PT1

“ oh, oh look here! This is Vanessa on her first Halloween, look at how cute she is as a little rabbit! Everyone adored her. “

My father’s voice rang in my ears, stupid, this is all stupid. Why was he here, he was never here for me when I started college. He just wants to get near this baby, My baby.

“ oh how adorable! Vanessa I never realized you have curls! “

“ ah, they where just baby curls. But she looked adorable with them. “

Y/n, she’s the only reason I’m not dead. But god is she as dumb as rocks. Look at her, she’s the prettiest girl on earth, well, after me, and here she is. Laughing along with hour father about your old baby photos.

“ curls don’t look good on me anyways. My physique is for straight hair, maybe wavy tips if I need to look good. “

“ you always look good Vanessa…”

I felt myself smile slightly, rolling my eyes and looked back at my phone. Her compliments would usually keep me going, make me laugh and even cockier, but I didn’t want to show anything else around William. I hate him, I hate how he walks around like he’s not a monster. I hate how he has his name plaster around a building y/n frequents. I hate him.

But. Y/n is making it better. She looks beautiful with that baby bump, and I’ve been able to keep her in the house easier with all those rumors shes baby trapped me. She couldn’t even if she tried.

“ oh, is that Vanessa on her first day of school! Look at her cute little backpack!!! “

“ first day of kindergarten! Oh she clung to me and her mothers leg like- “

My heart raced as he said that. That word. That word could make me a mess if I let it.

“ William. Don’t talk about her. “

I try and remain calm. Y/n dosnt need to be asking questions about her. All she needs to know is my mother is…gone….

“ oh come on Vanessa, it’s just a photo. Here, look, here you are on picture day, you were always photogenic! “

I hate looking at my younger self. How naive and stupid I was. I’m better now, I’m smarter, I have a mate and a baby.

“ let’s see..ah Vanessa! Remeber your first visit to the restaurant? Oh I scared you with the costume, but as soon as she realized it was her dad she wouldn’t let go! “

The restaurant. Freddy’s….y/n dosnt need to know about that place. She dosnt need to know what happened. He needs to catch a drift and stop. Talking.

“ William why don’t you show her more Halloween pictures. Those are better “

“ yeah, what was she after the rabbit! “

Y/n is so interested in this. Why? Am I not interesting to talk to, does she not like me??

( Vanessa moves from her seat and sits next to y/n, putting a hand on her thigh as she looks at the pages with her )

“ here’s Vanessa when she was a penguin, here she is a Rapunzel…oh and here she is on her ninth Halloween, as a model! Always had it in you didn’t you ness? “

“ whatever…”

I hate him. I want him gone and away from my mate. But y/n adores him, she wants him to be apart of this babies life. Hes a monster, a beast. I want him away from my life.

“ Oh look! And here’s Vanessa with her mother…one of the last photos taken of them- “

“ THATS ENOUGH. GIVE ME THE STUPID BOOK “

He brought her up just to piss me off. Why wouldn’t he, he knew I’d get flamed up.

( Vanessa snatches the book from William, storming into the kitchen and throwing it under the counter. )

“ Get out if my house William. Get out and STOP COMING BACK! “

“ ok ok Jesus! Y/n, I’ll keep in touch, be safe- “

“ STOP TALKING TO HER. GET OUT! “

( Willam rolls his eyes and leaves, y/n looks up at Vanessa, who is obviously extremely pissed off )

“ v-Vanessa….why did you-? “

“ STOP TALKING. I CANT WITH YIU RIGHT NOW. HES NIT THE ANGEL OF A MAN YOU THINK HE IS. Jesus, I need to go smoke…”

“ Vanessa wait! You said you’d stop that stuff for us. “

she’s guilting me. She’s making me feel bad. He’s manipulating her into doing this. She’s lost her fucking mind.

“ well I’ll stop when you birth me and strong healthy alpha. Now move. “

( Vanessa pushes past y/n, and storms outside. Y/n sits back down on the couch in silence. )

#vanessa shelly #five nights at freddy's #vanessa shelly x reader #sorority!vanessa #toxic!vanessa #alpha!vanessa #omega!reader #here’s the fic I made from the comic me and my friend made!!

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topazy · 1 year

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Teen spirit

Pairing: Carl Grimes × reader, Maggie Greene × sister reader

Warnings: Swearing

Chapter: 5.02

The last twenty-four hours have been hard. Your group was low on ammo, food, and water, and everyone was exhausted. Everyone was on guard for any survivors from Terminus. Glenn told you how messed up the stuff they saw inside when they were taken was. A butchery full of human corpses and a room full of the belongings of the things they stole from the people they killed. It was extremely messed up.

While trekking through the woods, careful not to make too much noise, you hear a man scream for help in the distance. You all freeze until Carl urges his dad to follow him and help. Cautiously, you follow behind, wanting to be extra careful since you were holding Judith.

You find a man clinging to a rock surrounded by walkers. Carl shoots the one, grabbing the man’s foot in the head, while Carol, Daryl, and Rick bash the other walkers' heads in.

You look up at the man who’s shaking in fear; on closer inspection, you can see he’s a priest. You call up to him, “It’s safe to come down.”

Slowly, he brings himself to the edge of the rock and slides down. He still looks petrified as he takes in the appearance of your group. His eyes land on all the blood, and seconds later he’s vomiting, “Sorry, and thank you. I’m Gabriel.”

“Do you have any weapons on you?” Rick asks.

Gabriel chuckles nervously. “Do I look like I have any weapons?”

“We don’t give two short and curly what it looks like,” Abraham says sternly.

“I have no weapons of any kind. The word of God is the only protection I need. I called for help, and help came.”

You hold Judith closer to you as she starts to fuss. “Shh, it’s okay.”

After a brief conversation between Rick and Gabriel, which mainly consisted of Rick informing the priest, he revealed that he had a church, which meant you’d have shelter for the night.

He leads you to a white church built further into the woods. As you check the premonitory outside with Carl, you begin to wonder what the catch was. “I wonder what happened to his flock?”

“What do you mean?”

“My daddy used to take me to church, and priests and flocks are usually tight-nit. I find it hard to believe he’s had this church himself the whole time, and none of his people came to her for sanctuary.”

Carl stops walking and leans his fingers over to touch the wooden panel on the outside of the church. “You see this, claw marks?”

“Walkers?”

“I don’t think so; it’s too deep. It looks like someone clawed at it with their fingernails and knives.”

You spot something almost completely hidden by overgrown plants that makes you let out a small gasp, unintentionally grabbing Carl's arm. “Oh my god, are you seeing this?”

Someone had carved ‘You’ll burn for this’ on the outside of the church. Father Gabriel wasn’t as innocent as he seemed.

—

After Rick, along with others from your group, went to an overrun store and took out the walkers plaguing it, they were able to stock up on trolley loads of food, along with other supplies. With a small kitchen based in the church, you, Maggie, and Carol were able to make a pretty good feast from the selection of pasta and tin foods brought back.

“I’d like to propose a toast,” Abraham says, gaining everyone’s attention. “I look around this room... and I see survivors. Each and every one of you has earned that title. To the survivors.”

“Survivors!”

“Cheers!”

“Is that all you want to be? Wake up in the morning, fight the undead pricks, forage for food, go to sleep at night with two eyes open, rinse, and repeat? You can do that. I mean, you have the strength. You have the skill. The thing is, for you people, for what you can do, that’s just surrender. Now, we get Eugene to Washington, and he will make the dead die and the living will have the world again. And that is not a bad takeaway for a little road trip.”

You had a feeling Abraham’s speech was aimed more at Rick than anybody else.

“Eugene, what’s in DC?”

Eugene gulps down, “Infrastructure constructed to withstand pandemics even of this magnitude. That means food, fuel, and refuge. Restart.”

Abraham smiles at him and says, “However this plays out, however long it takes for the reset button to kick in, you can be safe there. Safer than you’ve been since the whole thing started. Come with us. Save the world for the little ones. Save it for yourselves. Save it for the people out there who have nothing left to do but survive.”

The room is silent as everyone contemplates the redhead's words until Judith makes a loud noise. “What was that?” Rick asks his daughter playfully, “I think she knows what I’m about to say. She’s in. If she’s in, I’m in. We’re in.”

The room fills with laughter and cheers, but you can’t shake the feeling that something is off. Like you’re being watched. Maggie sits down beside you and says, “Hey, did you know Tara was at the prison?”

“Yeah, she told me.”

“How do you feel about it?”

You shrug. “She didn’t know who the governor was, plus Tara and Glenn saved me, so she’s with us now.” Maggie hugs you, but thinking about what happened to your father at the prison makes you emotional. “I’ll just be a minute.”

Not wanting to seem weak and shed tears in front of the rest of your group, you head into the kitchen and begin washing dishes. You enjoy the solitude and focus on nothing except cleaning.

“Hey, you okay?” Carl asks, placing his hand on your back.

“Yeah,” hearing your own voice, breaks your eyes well up. “I’m fine, just tired.”

Carl pulls you in for a hug, wrapping his arms around your back. He holds you tightly and says, “We’re going to be okay.”

#the walking dead #carl grimes x reader #Carl Grimes x you #teen spirit #carl grimes/reader #carl grimes #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes fanfic #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fandom

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crazyk-imagine · 1 year

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Being Steve's Childhood Friend Headcanon

A/N: This was just something fun to write and I could not get it out of my head

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- You've known Steve for too damn long, or at least that's what you tell Danny when you first meet him

- Danny is interested in you, everyone can tell

- You don’t want to admit it but you also find yourself drawn to him

- Also, admitting it would make it real (and you don’t want to lose the bet)

- You’ve got big bucks coming your way if Danny asks you out first (which you’re of course thinking of putting towards your future date or a new tie. He seems like he’d like another)

- You try to be a people person but that doesn’t mean they always like you

- Speaking of, when you met his kids, they loved you and thought you were super cool like their aunt Kono (only cooler, to which she agrees on)

- Grace loves you (she tells you all the time, trying to help her dad out)

- So does Charlie (when he's born)

- They really like you because you protect their dad and make sure he comes home in one piece and same with uncle Steve

- Danny didn’t know but during one of your cases, the bad guy was aiming for him and would have gotten to him had you not been there to pull out some moves

- Grace only knew when you tried to hide your injury later while everyone was celebrating at Steve’s

“Are you okay? Do I need to have uncle Steve call an-”

You shake your head, “Nope. I got it.”

She shakes her head, “I don’t think you do. You’re bleeding.”

You glance at your stomach, “maybe I need medical attention.”

She nods and runs into the kitchen, looking for her dad.

“Wait- Grace, no.”

Her, Danny, and Steve run into the living room of Steve’s home and the detective catches you before you could fall face first onto the floor

That was the day when Danny started to look at you in a different light and started to pursue you

To which, your longest and childhood friend did not like… at all

“You’re not dating him.”

You roll your eyes. “I can date whoever I want.”

“Anyone but Danny.”

“Wouldn’t you rather I date someone who isn’t like every other guy I dated?”

Steve furrows his brows. “What- what about that one guy you dated back in high school?”

You shrug, “dead.”

He stares at you as if you’ve lost your mind, “I’m sorry? He’s dead?”

You wave him off, “Danny’s the better choice.”

“No.”

You spin around, keeping one hand on the door. “I’m going out with him and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

Steve doesn’t want to acknowledge the fact that you’re dating his best friend but when he sees how you two are

He stops making nit picking comments to joking about your guys future

You two laugh along with him before you shut him down with a sarcastic remark

And of course, Danny adds onto it

Another reason why Steve didn’t want you two to get together… the sarcasm is too much

Working together has its pros and cons

You and Danny didn’t realize how much it would affect you two until a bad case came up after you started dating

It was worse than the time when you quite literally took one for him

You were being held hostage with Kono and Jerry (who kept annoying the head honcho with his questions)

It was a few hours until they found you three

It wasn’t until Danny punched the day lights out of one the bad guys till he saw your face again

He’s never told you but he nearly collapsed at the sight of you looking all banged up, clearly taking the worst of it

About two months had passed by before he decides to pull back from you, feeling it was his fault you got hurt in the first place

Steve became more protective and kept a closer eye on you (Chin doing the same with Kono)

No one needed to worry about Jerry because he kept showing up

You knew what the detective was doing, you’ve done the same thing

Another reason why it took you so long to come back home

You can’t take it anymore and confront him

You close the door to his office and sit down at the chair across from him.

He raises a brow, “hello to you too.”

“Cut the bull, you think it’s your fault, don’t you?”

“Can we rewind to when you gave me a little background information?”

You push yourself in the seat, resting your elbows on your knees as your butt rests at the edge of the seat, “no because you know exactly what I mean.”

“Do I?”

“I miss you.”

“I’m here.”

“You’re not,” your fingers run through your, usually, neat hair; messing it up. “We haven’t been the same since the case and don’t pretend like-”

He nods, “you’re right. That’s on me. I mean,” he sighs, suddenly feeling uncomfortable talking about his feelings. “It was because I was scared before but then I realized what I was doing and it felt like it was too late to change something and now, we’re here.”

“Can we at least make an effort for some kind of familiarity? I mean, its been months since we actually talked for more than three minutes.”

“How about we ditch our favorite person and go out?”

“Please tell me were not going on a break to Komokona’s shrimp truck.”

He smiles and fixes your hair before pecking your lips. “No, I’m taking you somewhere nice. Somewhere a beautiful and amazing person like yourself deserves.”

You gasp and accept his help. “You mean your bed?!”

A faux chuckle escapes him, “very funny.”

“I try.”

Steve was speechless when you two quiet literally said you’re ditching and wouldn’t be back for a bit

You two enjoyed yourselves

You managed to hold off responding to your friends many, many messages which annoyed the both of you

After that it was good, you two had never been closer or had better relationships than now

Danny still doesn’t know how he got you to agree to go out with him but he’s happy and you make him feel like the luckiest guy ever

You feel the same and consider yourself lucky to be apart of Williams family and your work family

You’re happy you decided to come back and stay where you grew up

Steve still can’t handle when you two gang up on him for anything and everything

The sarcasm is off the charts

#hawaii five 0 #hawaii five 0 fanfic #hawaii five 0 fanfiction #hawaii five 0 headcanon #danny williams #danny williams x reader #danny williams fanfiction #danny williams fanfic #danny williams x you #crazyk-imagine

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voidsdamned · 1 month

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Wicked Natures - The Ghoul/OC (Female Character) Chapter Thirteen

Summary: Bounty hunters are frequent customers at Mulholland's Saloon, and Rue's taken quite a shine to one gunslinger in particular: a cantankerous, old Ghoul in a tattered duster. Witness her unabashedly lust after him in all his irradiated glory (as we are all currently doing), as well as navigate the precarious relationship she unfortunately has with local law enforcement.

Minors, do not interact.

Content Warnings: the usual swearing, use of alcohol, mentions of prostitution, murder.

Enjoy <3

Chapter Thirteen: Wrong Decision

The spot on the floor sort of looks like a dog: a big, fluffy one with a dopey, squishable face Rue would very much like to season with kisses. She’d like to give it a hug around the neck, bury her face in its fur, and take a nap. She’d like it if the dog was big enough for her to take a nap on –so big she could lie on its side and sink down into it like a mattress.

Hell, she’d just like a nap after days and days of Deck’s ridiculous, early-morning nit-picking and the long, tiresome nights that follow. Nights where she gets two or so hours of sleep at most because she works so damn late and Deck’s developed this irksome habit of popping in at the ass-crack of dawn for a breakfast Rue doesn’t want –doesn’t have the energy– to make.

The sheriff’s gone now. He left around noon for out-of-town business that’s supposed to keep him tied up for a week or two, and such news nearly brought Rue to tears of relief and joy. She’s still tired, though, and the only thing keeping her going is the promise of a late-morning sleep. But the prospect of lying down and petting the floor-spot dog is sorely tempting.

“Rue, honey, you there?”

Her fuzzy, heavy, half-not-in-her-head brain perks at her name. At the slow, concerned tone of Bo Fortenberry. She glances to him, not fond of the furrow-browed look on his face, and then her eyes go right back to the floor. She points at the spot.

“That look like a dog to you?”

“Huh.” Bo makes a teeth-kissing, curious sound. “Kinda?”

“More like a chicken to me,” Len Thomas comments, peering over the edge of the table. “That dirt or just the way the wood warps?”

“Better not be dirt,” Rue grumbles, scrubbing at the dog spot with the toe of her boot. It doesn’t move. Doesn’t have any sort of texture to it other than wood grain. “Tired of scrubbin’ the damn floors….” She decides it’s just the wood grain and sighs before shooting a grin at her table. “I completely forgot if I was comin’ or goin’. You boys need anything?”

Three out of four boys shake their heads in the negative, but Gen Guthrie bobs his as he takes a big gulp of beer.

“Just to know how long the waitin’ list is on… Ana? Anis?” Gen sets his beer down, head cocking and brows scrunching. “Annie?”

“Second one was closest,” Rue tells him, fingergunning. “Anais. And buddy, ya might not get a spot for months. She really knows how to –and I’m quotin’ Brent Mahonne directly here, ‘Lay it on a guy.’ So, I’m guessin’ she’s pretty good.”

“Brent Mahonne’s a dog,” Fat Patrick tosses in around a laugh. “Long as it’s got a hole, he’d fuck it.”

Rue believes it. She heard him proposition Adel once, and well… Rue doesn’t like that she’s imagined it, but she thinks cigarette smoke probably billows out of Adel’s cooze the same way it does from her mouth. She wouldn’t go near it. But Brent Mahonne sounded earnest and wanting when he suggested they pop out back.

She decides to not share that with the boys, though. Adel’s been shrieking at her enough as is, and Rue’s sick of it. Instead, she smiles devious and says, “Bet him and gulper fucker are best pals.”

Bo gives a short laugh but corrects her, “Naw, they can’t stand one another –both think the other’s nasty as hell and oughta be shot.” He takes a quick sip of beer. “Personally, I think the gulper fucker’s the worse of the two. Takes a depraved fucker to put their dick in somethin’ dead.”

“So, you’re sayin’ it wouldn’t be as bad if it were live when he did it?” Gen poses.

Bo’s nose scrunches, but he dips his head. “Kinda?”

“Stop talkin’ ‘bout the gulper fucker and dead things,” Len groans, green as a supermutant around the gills. “I just wanna drink my beer without hearin’ ‘bout it.”

“Awe, we’ll leave it alone, Len,” Roo coos, smile soft and teasing. She spares a swink for the rest of the boys. “I’ll come back ‘round in a bit.”

Varied appreciation comes from the table as Rue turns to leave, eyes catching on the dog spot a final time before she drags her gaze away. She has to focus and stop thinking about fluffy things to nap on. There’s a shift to get through, and then her lumpy couch can swallow her up.

Her mind spins back around to her couch often, though. When her arms wobble under the weight of a too-full tray. When Yumi keeps stealing her goddamn drinks. When Rina tells Rue she’s, “Just not feelin’ it,” when a neglected table has Rue go hunting for her. When Adel bids Rue to guess at how many caps Harvey James just offered to get Rue in the broom closet with him. When Hal asks her for the dozenth time tonight to run up the stairs to take drinks to one of the girls’ rooms.

Rue slogs herself up the staircase, a bottle of red wine in the hand that doesn’t pull her heavy body upwards with tugs at the stair rail. On the landing, she hesitates but for a moment before heading towards the room that used to be Lara’s.

Rue couldn’t actually say how long it’s been since Lara left –time runs together for her worse than it ever has– but her absence still feels very new and strange. And she frankly doesn’t like it even though she is glad Lara got to leave. Rue’s glad she’s far away and hopefully enjoying the hell of that tall, muscley boy she landed, but Rue misses Lara as fiercely as she misses hot water (if not more). She misses her honey eyes. Her quick smile. Her secret devilishness. She misses the way Lara would humour her silliness and let her try just about anything with her hair and makeup. She misses talking about nothing. She misses talking about everything. She misses the simple pleasure of sharing the same space.

And then there’s the fact that Anais isn’t very nice or likeable. She’s another Molly. Another Rina and Yumi. She’s rude, demanding, refuses to learn how to work the floor in the server kind of way, mistakenly jealous of how much attention Deck unfortunately gives Rue, and doesn’t know how to do her makeup. But she thinks she does. She gets the spitting, throwing shit kind of mad when Adel sends Rue to her room to fix whatever travesty the courtesan has thrown together.

Rue’s quick about the drink drop. She knocks loud and clear, sets the bottle down, and turns to book it back downstairs.

But then she hears her name come from further down the hall, around the corner one would take to get to Adel’s room.

People talk about Rue all the time, and she used to ignore it. She’d space out or leave it, but ever since Artie, Rue hones in when she hears her name. Something in her pricks and demands to know what is said. It could be important. Something she can use. A warning.

She takes a step down the hall, pausing for just a moment when the door to Lara’s old room parts just a fraction and a freckled hand slithers out to snatch up the wine bottle. The door shuts; Rue moves more steps, careful and slow until she comes to the corner where she takes the quickest of peaks.

Lucky and a man she doesn’t know the name of (but she knows she’s seen hanging around Deck for a little while now) lean into a wide, open window. Cigarettes smoke idly between lips or fingers, curls of grey filtering into the midnight air.

Lucky’s taking a particularly long drag, expelling it with a great sigh. “Well, they think Lara probably begged her for it, and Rue… she’s not altogether there, but she’s sweet. Sweet and simple. She’d give anyone the shirt off her back, and Deck’s pissed Lara took advantage of that.”

Rue pulls back, spine pressing into the wall and heart doing all manners of flip-flops in her chest. That’s bad. She hasn’t heard much, but that’s really, really bad.

“That… that still don’t sound like a good enough reason to send someone after her.”

Rue’s flip-flopping heart splats to the floor. She…. Maybe she’s just misunderstanding the situation? Surely, they’re not talking about Lara having a bounty her. Not Lara. Not Lara who’s never done anything but love someone –who didn’t even ask Rue for help.

“It’s enough for him.”

“…He’s weird ‘bout that one.”

A grumbled, heavily sighed. “Buddy, ya don’t know the half of it. He don’t like it when anyone gets too close to her or when she does anything for anyone other than him. And it’s just been gettin’ worse and worse here lately with everything goin’ on. Her interactin’ with folks here is gettin’ to be too much for him. Can’t tell ya how many times he’s complained ‘bout Bo Fortenberry and his boys or that Ghoul takin’ up too much of her time. He’s even startin’ to get weird ‘bout Hal and… and that Ghoul rancher –shit, what’s her name….” A snap of the fingers. “Ira Jean. Just everyone now. And he’s stuck her in the absolute worse place for him to be this way. But that’s the other half of it! He likes to show her off. He likes hearin’ how bad some people want her. It’s askin’ for fuckin’ disaster.”

Rue’s stomach has joined her heart on the ground, and both sort of just writhe down there. Twisting. Thundering. Her head spins hard. Horribly.

“Makes me think of that off-his-rocker fella he was spinnin’ like a twister ‘bout when I first joined up. Think I ‘member someone sayin’ she patched him up on her porch and that’s what set him off?”

A tired, “Yup. …That was one job I really didn’t wanna do. I was relieved whoever hurt him came back and got him so quick.” Another sigh. “But that’s back in my lap now.”

“Why’s that?”

“Ya see that redhead that stopped in earlier?”

“Uh… blue hat and a .357?”

“Mhm” A quick pause. A vocal exhale. “That’s Geraldine. She brought me a head, claimin’ it was Artie’s. Said she found him down in Two-Sun just wanderin’ ‘round.”

Everything goes out of Rue, goes brittle and cold, and she goes to shaking so violently her vision vibrates. She bites down so hard on her lip she tastes copper, but there’s no pain to it. There’s only rage and a scream she can’t let leave her throat. She has to keep it together. She has to hear the rest.

Rue stares up at the ceiling, blood dribbling down her chin and eyes burning.

“He escaped?”

“Must’ve. Maybe? I dunno that it’s really his head. It’s busted to hell and back, decayed bad, and Geraldine’s got a reputation for fakin’ bounties. …She brought us a head off a raider boss, Macho, a few years back. It was in rough shape –we couldn’t confirm or deny the identity– but we took her at her word. ‘Bout two weeks later, another hunter comes in with Macho’s head in pristine condition. No doubt it was his. So, we had Geraldine brought in, and the only reason she ain’t dead –still doin’ business with us– is ‘cause she coughed the caps up, and… well… she soothed Deck’s ego. If ya catch my drift.”

“Think she’d be dumb enough to try it again?”

“Some people don’t learn. …I decided to not to give her the full bounty. Told her she could wait ‘round for Deck to come back to town and take it up with him. Guess it’s sort of a good sign she’s still here, but I don’t trust her.”

“Don’t reckon I would either….” There comes a lecherous chuckle that firmly boots Rue out of her focus. “But I’d let her soothe my ego.”

Rue barely hears Lucky’s response of, “Fuckin’ dog,” as she pushes away from the wall, as she tries to hold her head and heart and her entire self together. She’s moved into a different frequency. Spiraling away. And all she can think about is getting away. Running and running. She’ll explode if she doesn’t.

She almost falls down the stairs, fumbling the last few steps, and she’s not nearly as dexterous as she usually is as she winds through the main floor of Mulholland’s. She’s not right enough in her own mind to avoid folks, and their voices sound like big-band trumpets. Every accidental brush of another against her burns. Pricks like cactus needles. They… they all kind of look like cacti to her. Just these faceless shapes, all lumpy, spiney, and too close.

A figure is suddenly in her path, and Rue doesn’t even think about stopping. She can’t. She collides, teeth and left shoulder ringing. Everything’s ringing. Vibrating. It’s gone from trumpets to a church bell tolling in her head. It’s loud and terrible, and Rue’s hands clamp over her ears to stop the noise, to keep her skull from rattling apart.

She’s hit again, knocked to the floor. Her ass strikes, rough, splintering wood, sending shocks up her spine. Rue’s spinning eyes stare up, fixing on a red-haired woman in a blue hat that is absolutely ranting and raving. Spitting as she glares down, as she pulls out a shining, .357 magnum and levels it on Rue.

Rue goes very still inside, her scattered world coming into intense focus around the redhead. She speaks a name aloud in question, a breath of confusion, “Geraldine?”

“Who’s fuckin’ askin’?” The redhead’s voice is a temperamental, not-quite shout full of growl and venom. “You need to watch where the fuck you’re goin’.”

Rue tries to stand. The redhead plants a boot in her chest. It hits so hollowly –Rue barely feels it– but it puts her right back on her ass.

“I didn’t say ya could get up, cunt,” probably-Geraldine barks. “Ya owe me a proper apology and some goddamn respect.”

The gun glints in the low light of the saloon. There’s a click of the safety being disengaged.

A complete disconnect occurs in Rue’s mind. She doesn’t realize that she lunges forward or that the .357 fires. She doesn’t realize she’s wrapped herself around the redhead’s legs like a rabid radcoon, bringing her down to harsh floors. And she doesn’t realize she’s screaming. That she’s scrambling or straddling the woman, bringing her netted hands down into a combined fist upon Geraldine’s face over and over again. She doesn’t feel the hot wetness of blood. She doesn’t feel flesh connect with flesh, breaking and splitting.

She doesn’t feel the arms around her, lifting and hauling her back. She can only see herself being pulled away from the redhead, who really is just a red head now. A spreading pool of crimson fluid and fiery strand of slicked hair.

Rue shakes again, whole body pulsating. Her vision blurry and uncertain. Worsening. Wet. The world spins, and she looks up at a ceiling. A terrified face she suddenly recognizes as Hal’s. He looks like he might be shouting. Maybe at her?

The world dims. Air rushes. She can barely see him anymore. Will she see him again? Will Deck kill him for touching her? Will he kill Mrs. Ira Jean for her kindness towards Rue? Murder Bo, Len, Gen, and Fat Patrick for being one of her favourites? The Ghoul for being her favourite.

It’s like trying to move the earth, but Rue manages to reach up. To find Hal’s face. Her slick fingers drag across his stubbly cheek, and she presses them to his lips, tracing a red smile.

“I… c-can’t keep ya s…safe,” she tells him, not hearing the heartbreak to her own voice. The way it wavers. There’s just the way it vibrates up her throat and slips through her lips. “I-I could…could…n’t keep… n-no one sss-safe.”

Her heavy, unseeing eyes slip closed, and Rue feels everything go out of her. Every ounce of anything until she’s just a hollowed-out outline of herself that’s slurped up by warmth and nothing. And that nothing, that darkness that eats her up… it’s really, very nice.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Being spat up is miserable. A brief glimpse at something bright, and then having to claw her way towards it. Again and again until Rue snags a sensation, and it’s wretched. A headache which pounds like a drum in her skull. A throat that feels sharply raw. Her limbs are lead and far away, but not as far away as her body. It’s not real at all. Not yet. But then the nausea hits, and Rue is aware of every inch of herself and the intense possibility that she is going to vomit.

She takes slow, deep breaths. She doesn’t want to vomit. She hates to vomit. She’d rather a knife go through her hand. …Shit, she feels like knives have already gone through her everywhere.

“No, her still being unconscious is very normal. Stimpaks can only do so much, especially with multiple injuries involved. And they’re a strain on the human body. A period of deep rest often follows their use, and compounded with the exhaustion physical trauma can cause… she could sleep for another day.”

Rue’s eyes part a fraction at the sound of Doc Nguyen’s voice, that precise and careful cadence. So clear and no-nonsense. So… educational.

There’s a sharp, puffing exhale. “Right, right. If you’re sure she’s fine. Or going to be…. She’s going to be?”

That sounds like Lucky, and Rue can’t figure out why the sound of his voice puts her so on edge. Makes her want to hold her breath.

“Yes, she will, and you can thank Hal for that. If not for him getting her here as quickly as he did, blood loss likely would have taken her.”

“I’ll… uh….” Lucky sounds so winded, so tired. “I’ll most definitely do that. And thank ya, too, Doc. …Will ya send word once she’s up and ready for visitors?”

“I will.”

“Thank ya –again.”

“You’re welcome. Have a good day, Lucky.”

“You too, Doc.”

Footsteps sound against wood flooring. A door opens and closes. Silence follows in its wake, soon broken by a sigh.

The doorknob to the room Rue guesses she was dying in at some point rattles and turns. The door creaks open, allowing the tall, elegant figure of Doc Nguyen to breeze in. She pulls her salt-and-pepper hair out of her face, into a tight bun at the base of her neck, but stops halfway through the motions of it to cut Rue a mild glare.

“How long have you been awake?”

“Long enough to know I almost kicked the bucket.” Rue’s voice is hoarse and broken, but it works well enough. “And hell, I fuckin’ feel it.”

Doc Nguyen fights off a grin, finishes tying her hair off, adjusts the glasses perched on the tip of her nose, and grabs a chair from close by, rolling it to Rue’s bedside. “You’re lucid enough, so let’s talk. I know you don’t feel well but describe exactly how you’re feeling to me.”

“Mmm. Not all the way here –like half of me’s still down for the count. But what I do feel aches…. Vomity. Headachy. My throat’s raw.”

The doctor spins away. Rue doesn’t turn her head to watch where she goes because it makes the world go into cartwheels. So, she listens as something slides open and gets rattled around. Doc Nguyen comes back and presses something chalky to Rue’s lips.

“Chew.”

Rue does.

Several more somethings with waxier coatings are held to her mouth. “Hold.”

Rue holds the pills in her mouth. The rim of a bottle is held steady to her lips. She is bid to, “Swallow,” and does so, washing the weird flavours out of her mouth.

“Give it ten minutes.”

“I got all the minutes.”

The good doctor clicks her tongue. “You almost didn’t have any….” Rue snorts; Nguyen goes on. “Why don’t you use a few of them to tell me what you’ve been doing to get a mild case of radiation sickness.”

Riding a necrotic cowboy into the sunset, but I swear I did a RadAway drip each time after….

But Rue’s obviously not going to say that. She likes Doc Nguyen –she’s been caring for Rue since she came to Dust– and she wants to trust her; but Rue’s secrets don’t feel safe with anyone but herself.

“Indulgin’ in Cram despite knowin’ better.” It’s an easy fib. Believable if she’s been eating the canned meat a little bit too regularly. “It’s so good fried, Nguyen. Ya can’t even taste the decades and decades it’s been marinatin’ in a tin can when ya fry it.”

“I’m going to recommend you quit. If not for keeping your rads down, then for keeping your intestines in working order.”

“I’ll take it into consideration.”

Nguyen sighs. “If I weren’t a doctor, I’d hurt you. Just a little bit.”

Rue grins drowsily. “Only a lil’?”

Doc Nguyen’s lips quirk ever so slightly, but she’s good at squashing her amusement down. She’s straight-faced and not-quite-frowning in an eyeblink. “Moving on. If it’s too foggy or hurts your head, don’t press, but I’d like to know what the last thing you remember is before waking up here.”

“I had a fit?” That’s the only thing Rue can currently guess at. She always ends up in Doc Nguyen’s office in a sorry state when she’s had a fit, and it’s a bit up in the air if she’ll remember the why behind it. Sometimes she does; sometimes she doesn’t. She definitely doesn’t at the moment.

“Yes, but let’s not call it a fit. We’re going to say a mental health crisis.”

“That sounds worse.”

Impatience leaks into an otherwise even, professional tone. “Rue.”

Rue sighs. She knows that voice and that she should probably stop dicking around. “Sorry, Nguyen. Lemme think….”

“Take your time.”

The last thing Rue remembers with any kind of clarity is being at Mulholland’s, running drinks and chatting with tables. How tired and ready for bed she was. At one point, she was thinking about Lara. Missing Lara. It twists at her even now, but there’s something deeper there. A worry she doesn’t understand.

Rue starts over, retracing all her steps. Her morning was average. She was able to do all her normal chores and feed Eggshells before Deck and the three or four boys he’s taken to keeping on him at all times swung by to walk her to work. He bid her goodbye on the saloon’s front porch, pulling her in for a hug that lasted for far too long and ended with a kiss against her hair.

Rue mentally pushes that away, wishing she could erase it completely, but she’s never so lucky as to forget that kind of shit. But she was a little lucky when she went inside the saloon and popped behind the bar to tuck Baby Destiny in her safe place. Hal had saved her a muffin, and Rue scarfed it down in three bites before helping him with stocking glasses. Then she headed upstairs to help the girls get ready, and that was as thrilling and enjoyable as it usually is.

Now that she’s thinking about it, she spent an awful lot of time going up and down the stairs last night because Anais likes to share drinks with her clients. In fact, Rue has a very vivid memory of watching Anais’ arm slip out her cracked bedroom door and snatch up a wine bottle before she… she followed the sound of her name and her heart went to hurricane-ing.

Because Lucky. Because Deck. Because Lara. Because Bo. Because the Ghoul. Because Hal. Because Ira Jean. Because Geraldine. Because… because Artie.

Rue’s sore fingers spastically clench. Her whole body recoils, and she wants to claw out the heart in her chest that goes so tight. That aches and rages and breaks apart bit by bit.

“Rue? Rue, what’s wrong?” A hand comes down gentle on Rue’s bandaged right hand.

Rue stares at it hard, seeing it red stained. Seeing red on floors. Red hair.

“Did I kill that lady?” Rue asks, quietly.

Doc Nguyen is silent for a long moment, and when she speaks, she does so plainly, “You did. One of your blows struck her nose in a very particular way. It shoved the bone into her brain.”

Rue keeps staring at her bandaged hand, through it. Through the thin bedsheets and mattress and all the way down to the hell she never thought existed. But she thinks it might now. She thinks it might be all around her. Demons and figments and bright spots only used to hurt her even worse later.

“You aren’t in trouble for it, Rue,” Doc Nguyen goes on. “Everyone agrees what happened, happened because the other party escalated the situation when she pushed you down and drew her firearm.”

“Nguyen,” Rue says carefully, as calmly as she can muster with her heart and eyes burning like wildfire and her throat so tight on account of tears. “I don’t wanna talk no more.”

“That’s… that’s alright. We don’t have to.” Doc Nguyen’s hand on hers pets so gently. “Is it alright for me to run through my check-up?”

Rue simply nods, not moving another muscle as the doctor does whatever she needs to do.

And Rue’s brain spins through what she needs to do. Or not do. She can’t do anything. She couldn’t save Artie. Lara might have a goddamn, fucking bounty out on her. Everyone who comes into contact with her is in danger because Deck Craven loves her in the most twisted, fucked-up, obsessive way someone could love another. But it’s not love. It’s not right. He’s ruining her life. He’s ending lives. And the universe doesn’t want her to end his –or that’s how it’s really starting to feel. Every attempt she made was foiled, and he’s gone the night she snapped and killed someone.

It shoulda been him. It shoulda been him. It shoulda been him.

She… she doesn’t know what to do anymore. Did she ever? It feels as if she’s made every wrong decision, but they always felt like the only ones she had. She couldn’t run. Bounty hunters would have gotten her. She never wanted to tell a soul what he did, never wanted to drag them into her shit. It was her and Deck’s business. It was never supposed to be anyone else’s. No one else was supposed to die because of her.

Rue’s eyes slip shut, the keen, horrible realization that everything she’s ever done and endured was pointless burrowing deep. Breaking her down so low, making her feel so weak and helpless and small. So, so stupid –as stupid as everyone says she is.

Rue suddenly, desperately, wants her Pa. No, she needs him. She needs him to scoop her up and hold her tight. Needs him to pat her hair and tell her everything is alright, and goddammit, he always made it so. He always knew what to do, and she really fucking doesn’t. She’s just some burnt-brained kid fumbling around, making bigger and bigger messes that get the people she loves killed.

“N-Nguyen,” Rue’s voice is watery, wavering, “do ya still-.” She sniffs, breathing uneven. “Do ya still have my holotape? I-I wanna hear Smile.”

Nguyen looks up from the small, scabbing over cuts on Rue’s knuckles. Her hazel eyes pick over Rue’s face, and for a moment, Rue sees sadness and worry. More kindness she doesn’t deserve. More love she can’t have. But she wants so desperately, that she greedily clings to despite knowing better.

“Of course I do.” Doc Nguyen rises, patting the back of Rue’s hand very carefully before stepping away. “I promised I would keep it safe. I even have a pair of headphones for you this time around if you want to try them.”

Rue can only bob her head, no longer trusting her voice to speak.

#the ghoul #cooper howard #fallout #fallout the series #fallout 2024 #fallout tv series

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ellievickstar · 2 years

Text

To Cut My Losses (Heather)

A/N: As per tradition the 100 follower special is angst :) I’m not doing request from 1 to 10 October because I have exams hops you can forgive me :( After that I will spit out a shitton of fics. Also I might start Harry Potter and Marvel fics…Is anyone still a fan of Big Bang Theory?

Ship: Eris x Sibling!Reader, Azriel x Mate!Reader, Elorcan

Please note this is after Beron finally dies

Warning:

Official Masterlist

Inspired by: Heather but a different sexuality

I still remember the third of December

me in your sweater

when you said I looked better the you did

“Come here you trouble maker!” He laughed as he chased me around the house. I stuck my tongue out at him as I winnowed again. He chuckled. “Fine keep it, it looks better on you anyways,” He shrugged. Folding his arms across his tattooed chest. I blushed as I ducked my head, glancing at the sweater I had stolen from him, baggy and way to big for me. But, it felt nice.

I peered up at him through my lashes and that’s when it hit me, that mind-numbing sense of home. The mating bond. I looked down and up at him again, eyes widening but he seemed so unfazed. I guess it didn’t click for him. I was about to say something when Elain walked in and Azriel straightened. Of Course.

Only if you knew how much I like you

But I watch your eyes as she walks by

What a sight for sore eyes

Brighter than the blue skies

She’s got you mesmerised while I die

Azriel’s eyes trailed Elain as she laughed with Feyre about whatever they were talking about. And when she started to complain it was cold, he asked for his sweater from me and passed it to Elain. I silently watched before my vision blurred. Swallowing, as I winnowed away back to the Autumn Court.

“Eris,” I whispered as I winnowed into his study. My older brother barely looked at me but when he saw my tear-filled eyes he immediately set his book down. “Y/N…,” “He’s my mate,” I sobbed. “Azriel is my mate,” I cried. Eris was confused but it then hit him like a ton of bricks. “He like Elain,” I nodded as I cried harder into my brother’s shirt, staining it with my tears. It reminded me of when I was younger, how father would beat me because I wasn’t a boy. How Eris would come and comfort me.

He ran a hand through my hair as I asked him, “Would he ever like me? I’m not even half as pretty. He gave her his sweater, it’s just polyester,” My voice cracked and Eris soothed me again. “Don’t say that about yourself, you can stay here from now on,” He mused. “Maybe it might cheer you up that Father died two hours ago,” I blinked at his words. Before giggling a little. As sadistic as it is, I was glad he was dead and I hoped he burned for what he did to Mother, to me, to all of us.

It did make me feel better, for a while.

Watch as she stands with her, holding your hand

Put your arm 'round her shoulder, now I'm getting colder

But how could I hate her? She's such an angel

But then again, kinda wish she were dead

It was the winter solstice as I mingled around, Eris at my side. That was when a loud gasp echoed through the room. Eris instantly turned to block my view but I saw Azriel kneeling in front of Elain, asking for her permission to get together. My heart broke in that instant.

How could he nit like her? She was clad in a beautiful flower dress that was pale pink with a snowflake necklace across her neck. And me? I was in Autumn colours, with bell sleeves, the skirt reached my knees. I turned and exited the House of Wind. Elain wouldn’t say yes, I knew that. She had written to Lorcan a few days ago wanting to try with him. But Azriel didn’t know that, yet he chose her. He chose her.

“Y/N?” A voice suddenly asked. I turned as I came face to face with my mate. “Let me guess she said no,” I deadpanned. He nodded before sitting on the bench on the porch. He looked up at me before his shadows suddenly speared for me and his eyes widened. He knew. He knew now. “Y/N, I-,” “Save it,” Was all I said. I turned away from him. “I spent years pining on you, you never reciprocated, always told me I was a sister to you,” A tear was on his face as he tried to stand. I stopped him. “I don’t think a mating bond can change the fact you don’t feel the same,” My voice was steady.

“Cause I see your eyes as she walks by, what a sight for sore eyes,” I scoffed, “Cause she is brighter then the blue skies, and she had you mesmerised while I died,” I gulped, “I wish I was her, but not anymore. I don’t want to be with someone after years of them leading me on then breaking my heart, first with Mor, then gwyn, now Elain. I have to stop breaking my own heart, I have to cut my losses” I finally finished my piece and left. Maybe one day, if he can truly love me, maybe I just met him at the wrong time. Maybe one day, but I have to cut my losses.

Cause you like her better

I wish I was her

A/N: Hot damn. This is a short one, I am still working on Chapter 4 of Climbing out but I hope you enjoy this short 100 special.

(P.S. I’m hoping to post Chapter 4 by today or tomorrow so look out for that)

tag list: @moonfawnx @bankerfrog @younxii @hideing @flightlesslittlebirdie @menagerofmischief @famousbasementpainter @owllover123 @bookworm-nerd6 @gigisssz @bethany-bee0128 @cityofidek @aetherl0l @valeridarkness @starrstrucked @judig92 @starlit-terror

#azriel x reader #acotar #acosf #acotar fandom #azriel shadowsinger #azriel angst #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #azriel #azriel x you #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction #elain archeron #mor acotar #eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra

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carnivorousyandeere · 1 year

Note

Wait a minute, did I remember to ask for possessive/jellous headcanons for the librarian, Felicity? (Dyslexia hates this name /lh) if nit I simply must! A librarian cat has ti be an interesting person when jealous!

Also hi! Hope you're doing well after the while sick thing

Also got cowgirl brainrot, but thats for later ;3c

Thank you, Alice~! I’m doing much better now. Hope you’re doing well, too ☺️ (You can also call her Fee or Fifi, if it helps any— she’d be over the moon to receive a cute nickname from her Darling~)

Felicity is an incredibly shy and skittish person, the type of yan who quietly follows her Darling for at least a few months before she even thinks of trying to speak to them. Especially when you’re in the library she works at— Felicity’s heart races every time you come in. She follows you throughout the building, keeping just a few shelves’ distance between you, trying not to hyperventilate at your closeness.

And the whole time, her jealousy eats her alive.

Every time you need help finding something in the library, and she’s too shy to offer to help, she grits her teeth and clenches her fists until her nails or cat claws dig into her palms, watching as one of her coworkers helps you instead. Felicity will use her jobs as a way to follow you— if you frequent a different library or bookstore, she’ll apply there instead. And she follows you outside of work, too, a jealous and silently-seething shadow you can never quite get a good look at.

Felicity had really only taken the position as a librarian to pay rent and fill time. Her real passion lies in writing. Throughout the first few weeks of following you, she manages to write novel-length romantic adventures with you and her as the leads— saving each other from dragons and loveless engagements to other people— but as time wears on, and her sleepless nights stretch on to write and watch you sleep, her pen slows.

Fee isn’t much for technology, barely tolerating the old desktops of the library and the one in her house that she uses to finalize manuscripts. Her writing is contained in notebooks upon notebooks, red and pink cursive filling the pages with a passionate slant. The longer she watches you, sees you interacting with other people, the more her stories begin to include the suffering she wishes would befall anyone else who gets too close to you. She fills pages upon pages of wishing those others were dead in the dirt for daring to disgrace your mind with their empty words and lay their filthy hands on your perfect form. She doesn’t deserve you— but neither do they.

Other pages are simply filled with your name, scrawled over and over again, increasingly messily.

One day she breaks down, thinking of the way you’d smiled at someone else yet again. Her pen breaks from her grip, ink soaking into the pages of her beloved notebook. Felicity sobs once, then twice, tears plopping onto the already ruined pages. Her claws tear at the edges of the notebook. She finds that she can’t write much at all for a while after that, even with a new notebook.

She wishes you would just smile at her like that, just once. Then she would be satisfied— not like those other greedy people, who steal so much of your time and attention.

But of course, one smile and one moment could never truly be enough for her, either.

~~~~

Felicity is not the type to confront her rivals directly. Mostly, she will write about them dying in increasingly horrible ways with that morbid enthusiasm of hers, then write you and her living happily ever after, opting to stay in a beautiful fantasy world rather than confront reality. That won’t satisfy her jealousy forever, though. She’s the type to begin to stalk people close to you, too, and she’ll begin to blackmail them and leave them threatening letters to get them to stay away from you. Even though she feels she can’t have you, that she doesn’t deserve you, she can certainly make sure that nobody else can have you either.

#mail 📬#Alice📚#moot moot 💕#alicethemasked #oc felicity #my thoughts #yandere #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere cw

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storiesofsvu · 2 years

Text

Three Words Ch 2

Warnings: Language A/N: Okay, I’m taking major timeline liberties with this because, well..I fucking can.. Lol. The squad is based on season 17, with Liv as captain. Alex has just been “killed”, Casey’s taking over ADA. Olivia’s the only one that knows Alex is actually alive and in WPP, everyone else thinks she’s dead at this point. Just…to clarify. lololol

You gave a warm wave to Nick and Sonny as you crossed through the bull pen, file folder in hand, Melinda had asked you to drop off reports for Captain Benson on your way home. The door was open so you only gave the briefest of knocks on the frame as you entered.

“Oh come on Counsellor!” Olivia’s voice rung through the room, clearly angry you could tell from the tone in her voice she was simply not wanting to accept a new ADA. “We’ve given you everything we have on Richards, get us a warrant!”

“I can’t do that with circumstantial evidence, you should know that.”

“Shit, sorry.” You swerved, “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” You face scrunched quickly, breaking into a smile, “Hey.” You hadn’t realized Casey was the replacement for SVU. You’d been in touch, occasionally meeting up for drinks or lunch briefly, but you’d both been more than busy with work over the last few months.

“It’s fine Parker. Please tell me you’ve got good news on the Richards case.”

“Fraid I don’t.” You handed her the file, “She’s right, it’s circumstantial at best, DNA wasn’t a match.”

“Well what about the fingerprints? They were all over her office.” She was really grasping at straws here, the anger still very present in her voice, annoyed at the lawyer.

“Circumstantial, he was a client of hers, he was in that office nearly once a week.” Casey spoke calmly as to not egg her on even further. Benson began to nearly berate the younger woman, complaining about how she didn’t know what she was doing, too new and inexperienced in the world of sex crimes when you cut in.

“Liv! Take a second to chill, would you?” She froze, glancing over to you, perplexity written across her face, “You can’t chastise her for doing her job just because she’s not Alex.”

“Don’t you think you’re a little out of line?” She shot back.

“I’m just calling it how it is. You’re not the only one that misses her, trust me.” You understood where the emotion was coming from, but she had no reason to come after Alex’s replacement like that, whether or not it was Casey. Melinda had warned you about how Olivia had gotten after her partner was basically forced into retirement, how she’d constantly criticize Amaro over nit picky things, simply because he wasn’t Elliot. Truthfully, this was worse, having one of your closest friends shot in front of you wasn’t exactly an easy trauma to process. “You’ll have to keep digging, talk to her coworkers again, see if any of them will freely give up medical records, your perp had a vasectomy.”

“How do you know that?”

“The fluids present in the rape kit were semen, not sperm.”

“Fine.” Olivia groaned out, running a hand through her hair, turning her back to the two of you with a small wave of her hand as a signal that she was done with you.

“Thanks.” Casey shot you a warm smile as the elevator doors slid shut.

“No worries.” You smiled back, “Everyone’s a little on edge right now.”

“Understandably.”

“How’d they manage to convince you into this after white collar?”

“I asked for straight homicide, but this was the opening they had for me.” Glancing down to her watch quickly, she took in the fact that you weren’t in your work scrubs. “You got time for a drink? Get me up to speed on the squad.” She shot you a sly grin.

“Course.”

Twenty minutes later you and Casey were nestled into bar stools in the lounge side of Latitude, a glass of rose in front of you, her usual scotch set in front of her as you picked over some cauliflower wings and truffle fries. You’d caught up on the walk over, effortless conversation flowing between you, full of laughter and smiles, happy to actually get to enjoy some time together for once.

“So aside from being a little high strung right now, what do I need to watch out for with these guys?” Casey’s lips spread into a smirk, she knew if there was someone to have the workplace drama/gossip it would definitely be you. Something about working around dead bodies all day made you pay a little extra attention, having to gain entertainment from something. Not to mention you were used to working with the squad as an outside force, much like she would be.

“God…where to even start?” You hummed over a sip of wine, “Liv’s honestly not that bad, Alex was one of her like, only friends, she’s not exactly taking it well. Otherwise she’s got a good head on her shoulders, does her best to keep the squad under control, really good with the vic’s, spends a lot of time advocating for them. She’ll be pretty strong willed to make sure you’re doing everything you can to get them justice on the cases.”

“Noted.” Casey’s eyes shot down to her phone as the screen lit up, eyes scanning the message quickly, “She definitely seemed passionate today.”

“I’d keep an eye on how you conduct yourself around the Sarge. Honestly great guy, heart’s in the right place but the squad’s been nothing but unwelcoming since he showed up.”

“Why?”

“Mike Dodds.”

“As in the police chief’s son?”

“Exactly.” You popped a fry into your mouth, “They’re all freaked out that he’s a fucking snitch, ready to run off to Daddy anytime he witness anything that’s even the slightest toe over the line…which is a lot…”

“Oh great.” Casey rolled her eyes,

“Yeah. Good luck with that.” You laughed, glad that your end of the job didn’t have to worry too much about whether the detectives broke a rule or two along the way.

“Is he a snitch?” She asked in reference to Mike.

“No! He’s super chill, really sweet guy who just can’t seem to catch a break with this crowd.”

“Sounds like someone has a little work crush.” You snorted into your wine at the thought,

“Yeah…right! He’s too…proper. And then I’d have to go to all those stuffy fucking galas, no thanks. I’ll stick to my dead people.” Casey laughed at that, knowing how much you hated glitzy parties, hell you’d nearly skipped your own graduation.

“Okay so who’re the hot messes then?” The look you gave her in response was one that she instantly knew she’d be more than bickering with the next names.

“Amaro and Rollins are honestly fucking disasters. Like, I’m talking personal life and half the time at work…and dragging personal lives into work. Wow.” You drained your wine at the thought, asking for a refill as you continued, “Rollins was great when she first got here, she was more timid, worked really well but her and Nick just constantly edge each other on. She’s the one you’ll have the most to worry about going rogue undercover without permission or even mentioning it to anyone. Nearly got herself assaulted twice, not to mention the gambling problem. She’s got some weird thing going on with Carisi, none of us are really sure what it is. I don’t even think they really know.” You let out a huff of a laugh.

“And Nick?”

“I’d go over his jacket for sure if I were you. He gets super fired up over situations, there’s bound to be a few excessive force complaints in there. His divorce was nasty, wife showed up at the precinct more than a few times, huge arguments in front of everyone until Benson could rally them into a conference room.”

“Okay so who do I have that’s going to actually help my job?” She asked with a groan,

“Carisi!” You enunciated your enthusiasm with a point of a french fry, “That kid is a fucking gem of an angel. And he’s in night school at Fordham, bonus there. And Fin is easily the most unproblematic of all of them, good guy, been at SVU nearly as long as Liv has and does good work.”

“All very good things to know.” She gave you a soft smile that you returned, “You still enjoying working at the lab?”

“Yeah. It’s perfect. Hours can get a bit intense but anything in this line of business does.”

“You still don’t find it weird you spend most of your time with dead bodies?”

“No.” You laughed over the rim of your wine glass, “I mean when it’s late and you’ve been at it for hours your mind definitely starts playing tricks on you, you start to think you saw a hand or foot move, but I’m usually not alone in the morgue.” Casey’s eyes fluttered to her phone once again, she’d seemed kind of distracted by the blinking device, but you knew what the job was like, “Work?” You questioned.

“No…” She shook her head, eyes glancing up right as your own phone went off. You huffed, annoyed at the interruption.

“Mine is…” You pulled out cash to cover your share while Casey flagged down the bartender.

“Perfect timing.” She replied, you noticed the bright smile on her face, eyes focussed behind you. You turned in time to see a woman greet Casey with a dazzling grin and a kiss on the cheek. “Y/N, this is Tara.”

“Oh..Hi..” You shook her hand gently, not missing the way Casey’s arm had wound around her waist. “I’ve gotta…” You gestured to your phone before answering it, giving Casey and Tara a wave as you grabbed your bag.

“Hey! Thanks for helping me kill time!” Casey called, you gave her a tight smile and a head nod before turning your full attention to what Melinda was saying to you.

#casey novak #casey novak x reader #three words #law and order svu #svu #law and order #law and order special victims unit

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