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fanatichistory · 2 years

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Mushroom Story Part 8

I should probably change my name from fanatichistory to fanaticrambling lol mainly because everytime I write a drabble or a prompt it turns into a multi-part series that just ends up as a sort of mini novel ^.^’ Oops? I hope you enjoy the rambles! Still can’t believe this all started with that darn mushroom meme >.< Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

"So...this Shadow...where do we start?" Aaron prompted again when the silence stretched on.

"Simple. Devana and I are creatures of light. Aaron, you're a witch with light magic and Zaviar a King. We wait for the Shadow to come to us. It won't pass up the four of us in one place for long, hungry as it is and with everyone evacuating to the Council Hall." Tristan answered finally with a plan formed in his mind.

A risky one, but one that seemed the only option with the least casualties to the greater population to their community in the Southern Kingdom. And the other Kingdoms it seemed as well, at this rate as far as things were going.

"What is the status on that, currently?" Zaviar crossed his arms in thought as he began to pace slow and deliberate, the wheels began turning in his mind. Unease was evident and no longer hidden behind his usual poker face.

"Ongoing. All hands are on deck to help the Guardians but there are still too many refugees enroute. Not all are accounted for and we can assume many are being picked off in this way." Tristan straightened as he knew where this was going.

"That includes my building. No one within my building has been notified of the evacuation notice, there is still 3rd shift arriving and clocking in as we speak for janitorial." Zaviar passed another glance at his computer and tapped his chin.

"Our first priority is always the citizens. We should follow protocol and get them to the Council Hall, but there is a high chance that the communication error that affected this building affected others as well. It could be that no one in any kingdom knows to evacuate."

"Or it could be that it's only the Southern Kingdom and the Council sees their opportunity." Tristan hated saying it out loud but knew by the look on Zaviar's otherwise smoothed poker face that his train of thought was right on the money and was why his friend was filled with such unease currently.

"Since one of the Council members is a host, in theory for now though most assuredly, it's likely they can create a shield to keep out the Shadow and that's why everyone's being told to go to the Council Hall. That means I might be able to as well, we can make our own safe haven." Devana offered, wanting to help and be of use. Especially with so many lives of innocent people being at risk.

"You're picking a hell of a time to try and find out." Tristan mused, Aaron nodded his agreement.

"Either way, we need to get everyone to a safe place. The Council Hall being on the other side of the city and now questionable for multiple reasons...This office is a modernized fortress to prevent attacks, we can easily have the employees that are already here have the desks pushed and moved out of the way to make room for the refugees. The only thing I see being a problem is the food. We only keep the café stocked and staffed for lunches and coffee breaks."

Tristan continued on with the planning as Zaviar typed the memos and sent the emails, apparently having already decided to go ahead with it and not wanting to put trust in the Council Hall either for whatever Devana couldn't fathom.

Aaron began sending the messages via social media and texts to the Supernaturals he knew and began that chain of communication through the witch community.

Devana...didn't know what to do. So she sat back down in the office chair, closed her eyes and bothered Mooshy again.

You do not bother me child, I enjoy our conversations. Though we will have to improve our topic matter.

Devana couldn't help but chuckle out loud at that, not noticing the glances from her friends before they returned to their respective tasks. They were beginning to get used to her tuning out and speaking telepathically with Mooshy now and only Tristan was really able to follow along now that he was connected too as a child of light.

'Is there any way to shield out the Shadow and keep the people safe? Can I do such a thing?'

Of course, with time and training. However, in this time of need I'm afraid this is something I must do to ensure it's success.

'What do you need me to do?'

Allow me temporary control. You will be back in the void, safe with me, and I will place the shield around this Tower. The Shadow will not be able to enter within it's walls, however...

'However?'

There runs the risk of the Shadow's host coming themselves, should the Shadow have one or create one. And it might. The Shadow has children after all, but not all beings have hosts.

'So if the Shadow has a host, it could still get in...and the children? The rogue priests and priestesses from Temple can get in too?'

Yes. The shield will only work on spirits, shadows and other sentient beings like myself. You will still need to be wary of others like you and your friends.

'Okay. Let's do this then. We got to save as many people as we can Mooshy, and they're all coming here. So you can take me over for as long as you need to keep them safe.'

Thank you...sweet child.

Tristan altered plans with Zaviar accordingly to accommodate for the Host and any rogue priests or priestesses who might try to crash through the Tower by physical force. He also couldn't help the trepidation the creeped down his spine at the mention of Devana allowing Mooshy control over her body.

However temporarily.

You doubt me, my son?

'I hardly know you. Neither does she. We know nothing of your Truth that you speak of.'

You will in time. It is natural that you fear me, given what you have been exposed to.

'As I imagine Devana would say, stranger danger.'

Unlike the Shadow who uses it's children to fetch it's dinner and unlike the being of unknown origin within the Council Member who uses Guardians, I am no such being. That is my Truth. Those who remain lost in my wood and refuse to see the light within night will remain lost. The creatures of the forest understand this. They live in balance with me.

'Then what is this void you mentioned with Devana? Why does she have to go there?'

It took awhile before Mooshy answered him, Zaviar still typing away on his computer and Aaron on his phone which gave him time to telepathically converse with the being.

Devana and I cannot exist without the other. She was in the process of dying when I made her my Host. The void keeps her spirit safe from those that would do harm to it. I keep her spirit safe, from passing on and completing the process of death or from being found and devoured by spirits or shadow in the otherworld.

'So...she was dead then.' He sat stone still in his seat as he tried wrapping his head around this. Their enemy was a Shadow and could easily be one of the things Mooshy mentioned that would devour her without the protection of this being within her.

No. But she was going to be when I interfered. If anything were to happen to me, she will complete the process. The spirit I keep safely in the void will reconnect with her consciousness and she will pass on to the otherworld. Her injuries that were sustained were fatal after all and cannot be reversed.

Tristan did not like the sound of this. Mooshy just admitted to him that her soul was tucked away in a pocket dimension and that Devana was walking around without her freaking soul.

There was no way she would even be able to enter the Council Hall for that damn meeting after all this is over, should they survive first, with the protections set up around the hall.

It was a precarious position to be in for sure...not only did it put a target on her back with the Council with her newfound and otherworldly glowing powers of light that made them want to figure her out, Mooshy was also the only thing keeping her alive and her spirit safe from other 'things' on the Otherside from eating her very soul which apparently she didn't even have on her.

'Not even with magic? Are you sure?'

Tristan didn't know why he was getting so emotional over a woman he just met and barely knew. What he did know was that she was one of the good ones. In the short time he knew her he found she put her all in everything. In her farm work, the love of her animals, heck she even got the King to do farm work much to his surprise.

Not that he would let on that he was watching from the sky either. He didn't want to come off that way, he just couldn't help but notice while he was keeping watch and patrolling the farm.

And now that they shared minds he could see her thought process. How much she put everyone else above herself. That she really was willing to sacrifice her autonomy to save a group of people she didn't know but knew were innocent.

And he knew the Council wouldn't understand even half of what he knew from this conversation with this being and would condemn Devana out of fear on not having her soul no matter the circumstances behind it, whether she was innocent or not.

Mooshy was also taking it's time again in answering him while he pondered his feelings and whether they were truly platonic or not as the protector in him rose and bared his teeth at the future threats that were looming against her and his friends.

The vampire tore out her jugular with his bite. She bled out fast. Magical healing is a possibility if one was prepared for it. Tell me, child of mine, are you planning to be rid of me so soon? To be be rid of me and prepare to heal her? Do you fear me so?

'I haven't decided. I don't know you well enough. I'm just worried about her and what she's about to do to help you shield this Tower and the toll it will take on her hasn’t even been addressed yet.'

I am used to being shunned by both creatures of light and other beings.

Tristan felt Mooshy's light pull away then before he could respond and lay dormant within him. As if shielding itself from his words and thoughts like it was hurt by being doubted by him as he tried to process the information further. For a second he felt for Mooshy.

But only a second.

There was still much to learn about the being and it's motives as Mooshy didn’t take the time to elaborate or answer him about the cost of shielding the Tower.

Unfortunately there was much going on and they were pressed for time. Tristan just hoped he could get through this war of of sentient beings, or gods, without hurting the feelings of the one he was connected with any further.

"Don't tell me you zone out and talk to this Mooshy too?" Zaviar questioned tiredly, pausing on the keyboard mid-type as if waiting for a reply from him.

"And the other Guardians. I'm telepathically connected to a lot of people Zaviar, it's quite noisy in here." He gave a joking tap to his forehead with the tip of finger as he smirked. Pointedly leaving out the fact that he suspected he was telepathically connected to Devana as well now.

He could certainly read her thoughts, he was just unsure if she could read his in turn. If it was only one way...or maybe she just hadn't figured out how telepathy worked with him yet.

"I can take to the skies and step in on anyone being targeted or picked off on their way to the Tower." He stated suddenly. Wanting to waste no more time in getting people safely within the building's walls and wanting to finally be able to something that lied outside of this office.

Zaviar began to nod his approval. "I agree. The dragons, harpies and those able to shapeshift into birds will be flying as well doing the same. Everyone knows to stay glamored at all costs to avoid exposure. The Were clans are leading the respective foot patrols and keeping three main routes to the Tower clear and guarded for the coming refugees. The employees on the clock are already making ready moving office desks and chairs out of the way on the floors below."

Aaron nodded absentmindedly as he typed away on his phone, updating his social media and standing next to Zaviar's side as he typed sent the routes through the community.

Devana began to glow brightly once more, brilliantly blue beneath her dark skin. Her eyes shining with the light and her long curly brown hair lifted as if in a gentle breeze as she stood up from the chair.

It was like a stone lodged in Tristan's chest as he understood that Mooshy had taken control just then. He wanted to trust the forest being, but couldn't bring himself to do so. Not seeing how completely it had full control over her body as she lithely rose up from the chair.

"Dev?" Aaron asked cautiously, reaching out a hand almost instinctively. "No, I am the one you call Mooshy. Devana has given me control so that I may shield this Tower from the Shadow and other spirits."

Without another word, Devana/Mooshy walked over to the office window and raised their arms as a rune of light appeared before dissipating into the window.

They watched uneasily as Devana/Mooshy made their way to the elevator, eyes still glowing bright making it apparent they were otherworldly, they stepped into the elevator once the doors dinged and opened.

"Change of plans. I'm sticking with Devana until she's done doing her thing just in case there's trouble." Tristan announced as he made for the elevator, his large wings he kept as neatly tucked to his back as he could but still trailing a bit behind him so he had to turn quick to sweep them out of the way of the doors in time to avoid being caught.

Zaviar and Aaron looked at each other apprehensively but otherwise both men glad that Tristan went with her.

"What do you think it meant by Devana 'giving control'?" Aaron asked him.

"I don't know. The one who might just walked out of here with her." He grumbled in response as he answered a few more emails that chimed in just then.

"Yeah well...I'm glad he did though. It's pretty obvious now that she's something else entirely. If anyone can protect her while you and I coordinate the evacuations, Tristan can."

Zaviar looked up at his friend and gave him a small smile. He was right after all. If Mooshy hadn't walked it's happy mushroom deity butt out of there before he had the chance to put Tristan on guard detail while they set up the shield...well, it was the call he would have made.

Tristan knew him well.

He struggled to trust Mooshy. Zaviar could tell even when he could not say and that alone reminded him to take a step back and remember to be wary. It was easy to get caught up in the wonder of magic the being had. The wonder of it all really.

Especially with her.

Being on her farm reminded him of times back when. The good days when things were less political and far more simple. Sure, there was responsibilities. Chores to do, creatures to take care of.

But at least the farm animals didn't talk back.

"Zaviar?" Aaron drew his attention back to the present and he cursed himself. Now was not the time. To many people were being picked off on the road, being plucked from their homes even when they were to scared to leave.

Now was not the time.

"Go ahead Aaron."

"I'm heading down to Bloombury Ave to help evacuate the witches and others present there." He announced.

Zaviar was stoic but he couldn't help the hesitation he felt inside. With it being war out there he knew there was a good chance he was looking on his friend for the last time. He also knew that there was no stopping Aaron either, nor would he.

"Watch your back. I wish I could join out there." And boy did he. Zaviar missed his days as a warrior.

Not the unnecessary death and bloodshed per se, but the saving of lives. He wanted to be out there with his friends doing something, physically doing something, to help his kingdom.

"Careful what you wish for." Aaron teased back half-heartedly as he took the elevator and left him alone in the opulent office as his computer continued to ding email notifications that demanded his urgent attention.

#mushroom story #scene prompt #whump scenario #writing #writing community #my oc's

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sparrowmoth · 2 years

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Ahhh thank you fir answering my ask firstly youre lovely and inspiring

I'm too scared to talk to you unanoned

To answer your question I'm thinking either something having to do with Jay or something with sea three I tend to focus on angst/hurt&comfort (I have several wips in the works including a Jay novel but I'm stuck atm so I thought maybe something different woukd help jostle the imagination and creativity)

Hi again, Anon! 🥰 Aww, of course! Thank you so much for the kind words, you’re very sweet. 🥰💖 If you’re more comfy on Anon, that’s totally fine! Please know you’re more than welcome to talk to me off Anon, too, though, if ever you want to.

Now, as for fic stuff, let’s seeee… I haven’t written much with the Sea Three (not that I don't love them, I just have Core Four tunnel vision lol), but Jay’s one of my absolute favourite characters ever so I’m sure I can rustle up some Jay-centric ideas for you! Hmmmm…

I’ve been thinking a lot about Aladdin so we’ll start there and see where it goes:

1. Aladdin’s magic carpet is locked up in the museum, which is… troubling given that the carpet seems to be alive and sentient to some degree. It would be really interesting if, while still new in Auradon, Jay stole the carpet from the museum with the intent of just taking it for a joyride for a few hours, only to realize that the carpet actually has a personality, which makes him reluctant to see the carpet “imprisoned” again.

The stakes are high, though. If security realizes the carpet is gone and Jay gets caught with it, he could risk getting sent back to the Isle. How much is he willing to risk for a magical rug?

2. A vague AU concept that’s been living up in the attic of my brain is an Anastasia-style plot where the Core Four catch wind of a story about a “stolen prince” from long ago who would be exactly Jay’s age in the present. They plan to con Aladdin and Jasmine into thinking Jay’s their long lost son just long enough to rob the palace blind and take off.

The only problem is… Jay really likes the life he’s been invited into, even if it’s a lie. He likes it so much, in fact, that the others are starting to wonder if he believes he might actually be the “stolen prince.” But is he?

3. I can’t for the life of me find the posts I’ve written about this atm, but I’d die to read any kind of Jay and Rajah interactions because I just think their dynamic would be so precious. Give Jay an emotional support tiger 2K22! Who even needs a plot, I just want to see Jay hiding his face in Rajah’s side, trying to muffle his sobs because he had a nightmare and he doesn’t want anyone to have to deal with that, but Rajah is like an uncle to him and he just purrs and nuzzles Jay and licks his head like he’s a cub, which totally messes up Jay’s hair but it makes him laugh a bit so totally worth it. Just… RAJAH AND JAY, I’m so passionate about them djakgjksdgjksd.

4. As much as I love protective!Jay and Jay priding himself in being the muscle of the gang, I feel like we need more of Jay being protected and taken care of. One thing my mind always goes back to is that scene in Book 2, Return to the Isle of the Lost (if I recall correctly) where Chad punches Jay and knocks him right to the ground, but Jay doesn’t fight back. He gets a black eye from it, but he just brushes it off when someone notices.

Basically, I want to see Jay getting bullied because not everyone on the tourney team is thrilled that this new kid from the Isle is showing them up on the field. Jay knows he could take them all bare-handed in a fair fight, but he’s trying to play by Auradon rules, so he keeps his head down and always comes up with some excuse for what happened when his friends ask questions.

Jay knows that letting this all happen is the only way to protect his gang because the second he throws a punch back, even to defend himself, he risks them all getting sent back, but when the others find out what’s going on, they aren’t too happy about it…

5. And finally, this is something inspired by a scene in the first graphic novel (I have a scan posted somewhere around here), but I think a lot about young Jay growing up on the Isle, having to watch as his father fawns over Iago and makes sure the parrot always has a good bite of food off his plate while Jay is left to provide for himself by stealing.

I can imagine he resents Iago a lot and even more so for all the times Iago would surely tattle-tale on him, like if Jay broke a plate or snuck a few coins from the Junk Shop’s till, that sort of thing.

Some parrots can be quite jealous, so I can imagine Iago attacking little Jay when Jafar’s not looking and then Jay getting in trouble for “provoking” Iago. Is there a plot in here somewhere? No idea, but I think it’s interesting ajdkgjksdjgkds

Anyway, I hope that helps!! Feel free to drop by my ask box anytime, and if you end up writing something inspired by one of my rambles, please don’t be shy to share, if you’d like! I’d love to read it! 💖💖

#anonymous #<3 #descendants #jay son of jafar #jafar descendants #descendants fanfiction #descendants fandom #the ask box #thanks for the ask hun!#I really needed to sit down and brainstorm story stuff #one step closer to kicking writer's block out of my path <3

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inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years

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Hello Steph! First, thank you for everything you do for this fandom!! I don’t know what we would do without you!! ♥️ I am looking to start my first novel length Johnlock fic. I found your list, and was wondering if you had a specific one to recommend to start off with? I’m looking for something that won’t make me too sad (the world does that on its own), and of course, lots of Johnlock!! Any recommendations would be appreciated, thank you!! Sending love!! *hugs*

HI NONNY!

Hmm, this is tough, because Novel Length is anything over 50K words, but some people don’t want to read “novels that short”. So I get a lot of requests for Epic novels over 100K, so like WOOO HOO LOL.

Hmm. How about I give you a few recs varying lengths, based on your requirements, and you can decide how long you want to go, since I list all my word counts on my recs?

First off, for when you become obsessed with the lengthy fics like I am now LOL:

Novel Length Fics: 50 to 100K (Nov. 2018)

Novel Length Fics: 50 to 100K Pt 2 (May 2020)

Novel Length Fics: 100K+ w. (May 2019)

Novel Length Fics: 100K+ w. Pt 2 (Aug 2020)

Novel Length Fics: 100K+ w. Pt 3 [MFL’s] (Dec 2020)

Next, here’s something for each range between 50 and 100K+ <3

BUT BEFORE I BEGIN: honourable mention because it IS my fave fic ever, and it fits your criteria minus the length so SORRY but please check it out:

A Promise Made to Be Broken by PlantsAreNeat (E, 37,018 w., 7 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Pining, Slow Burn, RST, Eventual Relationship, POV Sherlock) – A young John makes an ‘if we’re still single at 40, we’ll get together’ pledge to a woman who ends up all wrong for him. She keeps reminding him of the promise, and won’t let go of it. John asks Sherlock to pose as his boyfriend at a family wedding, so as to dash her hopes permanently. Sherlock, who has at last acknowledged his feelings for John, reluctantly agrees despite knowing how painful it will be to ‘have’ John, but not keep him.

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Okay, now the main event, of more-fluff-than-angst:

NOVEL LENGTH NOT-SO-ANGSTY FICS FOR NEWBIES

Spare Change by Ermerness (E, 51,966 w., 14 Ch. || Rich Holmeses AU || First Kiss / Time, Holmes Family, Virgin Sherlock, Anal, First Meetings, Bossy Bottomlock) – The Holmes family is one of the richest and most powerful in England. Sherlock spends his time flying around the world on the family's private jet drinking a lot and shopping at expensive boutiques as a way of trying to alleviate his endless boredom. His mother decides it's time he settles down with someone powerful, wealthy and well connected. John Watson happens to be none of those things.

Guilty Secrets by Ellipsical (E, 55,086 w., 16 Ch. || Post-TRF, Drumsticks, First Kiss/Time, Love Confession, Self-Sexual-Discovery, Anal, Rimming, Orgasm Denial, Butt Plugs, Cooking, Furniture Sex, Bath Sex, Rimming, Double Penetration, Prostate Massage, Anal Beads, Dancing, Romance, Tantric Edging, Internalized Homophobia, Case as Foreplay, Anal Beads, Tickling, Dancing, Dry Coming, Romance) – John has a prostate exam and discovers something surprising about himself. Experimentation follows. Sherlock wants to help. They're in love. You know the drill.

Bridging the Ravine by SilentAuror (E, 58,887 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Couple For a Case, Bed-Sharing, First Times, Confessions, Awkwardness, Sex Trafficking, Massages, Wet T-Shirt Contest, Group Therapy, Past Loss of Child) – Sherlock and John go undercover at Ravine Valley, a therapy centre for same-sex male couples in an investigation into a possible human trafficking ring. As they pose as a couple and fake their way through the therapy sessions for the sake of the case, it quickly becomes difficult to avoid discussing their very real issues. Set roughly six nine months after series 4.

Perdition's Flames by i_ship_an_armada (E, 63,435 w., 21 Ch. || Treklock AU, Est. Rel, Genetic Engineering, Angst & Fluff, BAMF!John) – Sherlock would do anything to save him. Risk anything. Give anything. His money, his life. His soul. What he does, though, is change both of their destinies forever. Genetic re-engineering is the only option left. It turns out researchers underestimated the life expectancy and potential abilities of genetically re-engineered subjects. The British government and what would eventually become the United Federation of Planets, however, had not. Part 1 of PF Universe

A Cure For Boredom by emmagrant01 (E, 81,665 w., 8 Ch. || Dirty Talk, Threesomes, Light Dom/Sub, Sex Club, Experiments, Anal, Mildly Dubious Consent, Rimming, Cheeking, Double Penetration, Mild Kink, Porn Watching, Voyeurism, Masturbation) – They’d never talked about sex in the year they’d known each other. Well, that wasn’t quite correct: Sherlock had never said a word about sex; John had bemoaned his personal dearth of it on many occasions.

Uphill by scullyseviltwin (E, 84,945 w., 18 Ch. || Olympics AU || Sherlock POV, Skier!Sherlock / Medic!John, Rivalry, 2014 Olympics, Happy Ending) – Sherlock Holmes is striving for gold in this, his fourth and final Olympics as a downhill Alpine racer.

A Study in Winning by Jupiter_Ash (E, 106,658 w., 11 Ch. || Tennis AU || John POV, Dirty Talk, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Happy Ending, Sherlock Speaks French, Switchlock, Wimbledon) – John and Sherlock are professional tennis players and it’s Wimbledon. One is a broken almost was at the end of his career, the other an arrogant rising star tipped for greatness. It should have been a straightforward tournament. It really should have been. How were they to know that a chance encounter would change everything? Part 1 of Tennis

A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada & ShinySherlock (E, 125,492 w., 23 Ch. || Historical Pirates AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Doctor John / Pirate Captain Sherlock, Sailing, UST / RST, Masturbation, Action / Adventure, Mild Angst & Peril, Romance, Shaving, Molly/Janine, Bottomlock, Hand / Blow Jobs, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Mild Violence, Facial Shaving, Happy Ending) – Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship's surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there's more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin' the eye, he has to choose... is it a pirate's life for him?

The Horse and his Doctor by khorazir (T, 129,003 w., 13 Ch. || Horse / Vet AU || Magical Realism, Horses, Vet John, Horse Sherlock, Implied Alcoholism) – Invalided after a run in with a poacher in Siberia, veterinary surgeon John Watson finds it difficult to acclimatise to the mundanity of London life. Things change when a friend invites him along to a local animal shelter and he meets their latest acquisition, a trouble-making Frisian with the strangest eyes and even stranger quirks John has ever encountered in a horse.

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w., 37 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it's a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

Midnight Blue Serenity by BeautifulFiction (E, 151,907 w., 19 Ch. || Friends to Lovers, Gay Bar / For a Case, Drugs, Pining, Case Fic, UST) – When Sherlock infiltrates a club in order to track down a serial killer, his altered appearance is enough to make John question his assumption that Sherlock is beyond his reach. However, is he the only one who appreciates his flatmate's charms, or is Sherlock at risk of becoming the next victim?

Gimme Shelter by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (E, 159,368 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || 70′s Surfer AU || Period Typical Homophobia, Hawaii, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Professional Surfers, Gay John / Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John was a Sailor, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining) – All John Watson wants is the feeling of a freshly waxed surfboard under his feet and the hot California sun baking down onto his back. To finally go pro in the newly formed world of professional surfing and leave the dark memories of his past behind him as he rips across the face of a towering blue barrel. To lounge beside the beach bonfire every evening with an ice cold beer tucked into the cool sand beside him and listen to Pink Floyd and the Doors while the saltwater dries in his sun bleached hair. That's all he wants, that is, until the hot young phenom taking Oahu and the Hawaiian shores by storm steps up next to him in the sand in the second round of the 1976 International Surf Competition. (PUBLISHED AS ‘The Sea Ain’t Mine Alone’)

Mise en Place by azriona (M, 161,004 w., 28 Ch. || Restaurant (Kitchen Nightmares) AU || Sherlock is Gordon Ramsay / Celebrity Sherlock, Restauranteur John, Harry Plays Prominent Role, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, Cranky Sherlock, Bed Sharing, Slow Burn) – John Watson had no intentions of taking over the family business, but when he returns from Afghanistan, battered and bruised, and discovers that his sister Harry has run their restaurant into the ground, he doesn't have much choice. There's only one thing that can save the Empire from closing for good – the celebrity star of the BBC series Restaurant Reconstructed, Chef Sherlock Holmes. Part 1 of Mise en Place

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Hope you enjoy those!!! <3 PLEASE read them all, though, and THEN READ ALL THE ONES ON THOSE LISTS. Because once you start long fics, you get REALLY INTO THEM. Hah hah <3

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #long fics #my fic recs #fave fics #johnlock for newcomers #sort of #Anonymous

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twstdreams · 4 years

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I've loved your non-romantic/platonic content that you've done so far! Adding on to that list, could I please request a short story surrounding MC, Ace, and Deuce? An accident occurs which ends in MC turning into a little kid and now it's up to the two boys to put their differences aside and babysit their friend until she's back to normal. Girl pronouns plz! Lol I can only imagine the chaos that would ensue. If you don't feel comfortable with this ask you can skip it! Thx for reading :)

I am always up for platonic content and shenanigans! Long story, so the rest is under the cut!

Warning: Minor spoilers for side stories (briefly alluded to)

Length: ~2.3K

“It’s this one!” Deuce declares with unfounded confidence.

“No, it’s not!” Ace rebuttals despite not making it past page 10 in his textbook.

“It’s mine!” Grimm shouts even though he most definitely does not understand the experiment at hand.

The magicless student can only sigh. Deuce and Ace suck at potions. So when the two bicker about what to add to their cauldron, the prefect doesn’t even blink an eye. Deuce mispronounces an ingredient, Ace corrects him, but neither are even talking about the right thing. She can practically sense Crewel’s glare despite her eyes remaining on the cauldron, cautiously waiting for bubbles to appear so she could add the indigo milk cap mushroom.

What is added next to her cauldron is not the mushroom in her hand but a random root Grimm throws in. In Deuce’s haste to catch the gremlin, he spills over his own cauldron and some of their potion spills into hers.

“What are you doing?” she asks, but it’s too late. The mixture in her cauldron is boiling profusely and suddenly envelopes her in a cloud of smoke.

“Funya! MC, are you okay?” Grim inquires. Deuce and Ace also call out her name but there is no response. When the smoke clears, everyone in the room is left speechless.

The potential beast tamer hasn’t moved but an inch but she’s at least two feet shorter and with rounder cheeks and wide eyes.

“WHAT?” she screeches in disbelief, suddenly too short to even reach the cauldron, “Fix this!”

And this is how the group’s long catastrophic day begins.

Adventure 1: The beginning

“What?!” Grim shouts. If looks could kill, Crewel’s glare would have toasted the monster.

“Yes, it is hard to predict when MC will return to normal because you carelessly threw together that potion. It should wear off in a day, but there’s no guarantee,” the teacher explains through gritted teeth. The bell rings but the quartet barely registers it.

“Go to the headmaster! It’s not my problem anymore,” Crewel declares.

Unfortunately, as most meetings with the headmaster are, the conversation is fruitless.

“Hah? We’re supposed to babysit her?” Ace asks.

“Yes! It’s your fault, is it not? Take care of her until the spell wears off,” Crowley declares.

“Isn’t there any way to break the spell?” Deuce inquires while nervously glancing towards MC.

“It’s hard to tell because you added in unknown amounts of various ingredients,” Crowley answers before muttering, “It takes too much time! I need to know what happens next in my novel.”

“Tch, what a lazy adult,” MC comments with a bored expression. She figured this would happen. She can’t even recall a moment when the headmaster had actually been helpful.

“What did you say?” Crowley demands. Deuce immediately picks up MC and heads for the door.

“Nothing! We’ll take care of her! See you later headmaster!” Ace explains while the two boys dash out of the office. They book it out of the hallway and then set her down on the ground.

“Hey! What was that about? It’s usually Grim saying stuff that gets us in trouble, not you,” Ace comments.

“Don’t tell me…Now she acts like a little kid too?” Deuce wonders.

Adventure 2: Stranger Danger

“Oh? Ramshackle prefect, you seem to be caught in quite the predicament.” MC glares at the Octavinelle dorm leader in return. Ace and Deuce are in the midst of calling Cater and Trey to ask for advice, giving Azul the perfect opportunity to approach her.

“I have an offer for you,” the second year begins.

“No.” MC is firm in her answer and has no intention of making any deals.

“Are you sure? I treat children well,” Azul adds but it only results in her frowning. There’s suddenly a glimmer in her eyes but before Azul can deduce what it means, MC begins shouting.

“STRANGER DANGER! STRANGER DANGER!”

“Stop that!” Azul insists but his wide eyes give away his flustered state. With a smile that looks a little too much like Chenya’s, MC continues her call for help. Soon enough, Deuce and Ace rush to her side.

“Stranger? That’s Prefect Azul! Have you forgotten him?” Deuce inquires with a look of concern. MC decides this is the perfect time to practice her puppy eyes and simply looks up at Deuce, wide eyes and with a pout.

Azul silently admits defeat as he forms a tight-lipped smile accompanied by some false pleasantries before exiting the area.

“I’m hungry!” she announces before anyone can question her further.

“Yes! Let’s go eat!” Grim agrees.

Adventure 3: Sweet Dreams

Getting lunch is a surprisingly painless affair. Though Night Raven College students could be quite self-centred, even they balked at harming a little girl. MC easily orders her favourites before sitting with her friends, though she has to sit on her knees to be at a comfortable height compared to the table.

“Wow! It’s true!~” Cater chimes while taking a seat at the table.

“How are you feeling?” Trey asks.

“Okay! It’s kinda weird but at least it was easy to get lunch,” she replies while taking a bite of her food.

“Now you really look like my minion!” Grim declares. MC shoots the monster a glare but doesn’t give him a response.

“You’re actually a little kid, huh? So, what do you wanna do when you grow up?” Ace teases.

“I want to control all the ghosts and have an army,” MC answers nonchalantly as if she had been discussing the weather.

“What?” Trey asks, slightly taken aback. Wasn’t this the person who was gullible enough to think that oyster sauce went in tarts?

“A ghost army,” she repeats confidently.

“Anyway! Aren’t you lucky? You get all these handsome guys to help you today!” Cater interjects, not wanting to unpack why the prefect wanted an army of the dead.

Her gaze scans the table before looking up at Cater, eyes wide and expression void of malice, and asks, “Where?”

Grim howls with laughter while the four Heartslabyul students try to recover from the blow to their ego. It’s definitely going to be a long day for them.

Adventure 4: Smiles and stares

“Hey wait!” MC whines. One disadvantage of becoming short is that her stride decreased accordingly, thus her struggles to keep up with her classmate’s pace.

“Just walk faster or we’ll be late for class!” Ace retorts, glancing up ahead to see how far away the next building is.

“AHH!” Ace turns around to see MC a couple of meters behind him face-first in a patch of grass.

“Uwah! Are you okay?” Grim asks while flying above the fallen girl. Ace groans at the predicament. Deuce ran ahead to warn the other teachers of MC’s unfortunate condition so the redhead was the only babysitter at the moment.

The situation only worsens when MC begins to sit up, knees scraped, eyes glistening with tears, brows furrowed, and lips pressed tightly together. Ace’s eyes widen at the sight.

“Please don’t cry,” he mutters under his breath before trying to think about how to soothe kids.

“Oh my, that was quite a fall. You’re okay now though, right?” Jade asks while extending a gloved hand. His face is calm, showing no signs of concerns or worry with only a placid smile to demonstrate any emotion. MC stares at his face, analyzing his expression for a few moments. After finding the answer to her unsaid question, she accepts his hand and quickly sniffles before nodding.

Ace watches in amazement as all signs of pain and panic vanish from her expression. He decides not to question her mood change before ushering the prefect to their next class.

Adventure 5: What came first? The egg or the chicken?

“You have to!” Deuce insists.

“NO!” MC shouts back, sitting firmly on the ground. Deuce is startled by the force of her words but stands his ground.

“It’s for your own good! Kids need exercise!” Or at least that’s what Cater told him before going to light music club.

“You can’t move me an inch!” MC retorts.

“I’m older, you should respect your seniors,” Deuce adds, doing his best to retain some level of patience.

“At least I know where chickens come from!” she rebuttals and Deuce feels at a loss for words. It is certainly not honour student behaviour to yell at a young girl but the first year is at his limits. He came to NRC to learn about magic, not dealing with children!

“Let’s play tag,” Jack suggests. Being the only one with little siblings, he is quickly enlisted to help. While disappointed in Deuce and Ace’s carelessness, he didn’t want to risk MC’s safety by leaving her in their care. Thus making him a reluctant member of the babysitting team.

“Tag?” MC echoes before a bright smile forms on her face. “Can it be teams?”

“Sure,” Jack agrees nonchalantly.

“Jack and I are on the same team! We get to chase Deuce and Ace!” she declares gleefully.

“Huh? I didn’t agree to this,” Ace interjects.

“We need even teams!” MC responds with puffed cheeks.

“Too bad, so sad!” Ace replies without remorse.

“This is our fault Ace. Plus we promised the headmaster to take care of her. As Heartslabyul students and men, we can’t go back on our words!” Deuce declares. Jack’s firm gaze and Deuce’s blazing spirit give little room for negotiation and Ace sighs in defeat. Ace really does hate alchemy class from the bottom of his heart.

Adventure 6: Idiots, all of them

MC closes her eyes and enjoys the breeze while resting. Deuce and Jack had gone to the cafeteria to get drinks for everyone after several rounds of tag while Ace lay on the ground to catch his breath. It was quite entertaining to see the fastest first years engage in a game of tag and even more fun to watch Ace try to avoid his inevitable fate. Agile as he was, Ace couldn’t run fast enough to outdo Jack with his insane stamina and speed. She giggles at the memory.

“Bonjour petite princesse!” Rook looks down at the little girl with a shining smile. Her eyes snap open and follow the source of the cheerful voice.

“Isn’t it delightful to see a new side to your friends? Like escorting someone on their first dance, like watching a lazy lion transform into a beast for the sake of the hunt, like observing night flox bloom under a full moon!” Rook beams but MC merely shrugs in response.

“Yeah but I’ve also seen Ace fall off his broom, Deuce compliment plants, and Jack mistake onions for a chemical leak.”

“Oh? Is it not like having several princes tend to you?” he inquires.

She scrunches her nose in thought before replying, “If my prince got stuck in a tree and I had to go save him.”

“Dear me, and I thought you were une petite princesse mignonne [1]! Perhaps that was a misunderstanding,” Rook remarks though he doesn’t seem displeased with the discovery.

Adventure 7: Mandatory nap

“Let’s go to the infirmary,” Ace suggests, “MC needs a nap and it’s the closest building with beds.”

“I’m the one that needs a nap?” she asks while side-eyeing her tired friend.

“She hasn’t even run for 3 hours,” Jack comments.

“Kids need naps! Plus, who knows what the side-effects of the potion are?” Ace adds, “We shouldn’t take any chances with her health.”

“You do need proper sleep to grow strong!” Deuce concurs.

“Sure, sure,” she concedes. When they arrive at the infirmary, there is no staff in sight. Ace guides her to a bed with an expectant smile.

“Well, go to sleep now!” Ace announces.

“It doesn’t work like that. I’m not sleepy,” she responds.

“Just lie in bed and close your eyes!” Ace insists with a huff.

“Shut up. You’re so noisy,” a voice growls. Leona appears on the other side of a room divider. Jack lets out a sigh, disappointed but not surprised by his dorm leader.

“I was having such a nice nap and now I’m… hah?” His sentence trails off as he eyes the little girl before him.

“Well,” you launch into an explanation of what happened, Leona shooting a judgemental look towards Deuce and Ace midway, before concluding, “It should wear off by the end of the day.”

“Tch, what an annoyance. I’m going back to sleep, don’t be loud,” Leona warns before flopping back onto the bed.

“How do you fall asleep so fast?” MC inquires. Leona glares at her, lips pressed together to form a thin line, but he lets any threats die in his throat.

“It’s nap time. Count sheep like a good herbivore until you fall asleep,” he instructs before turning his back towards the group. More than she’d like to admit, her small body requires rest and what better excuse than this? Besides, it’s not like magical history homework was particularly appealing, so she plops onto the bed to rest.

“I’m exhausted. Taking care of kids is tiring,” Ace says before falling onto another bed.

“It’s been a long day. I’m glad MC is okay, though. Haaah…I’m sleepy,” Deuce murmurs before resting on a different bed. Jack doesn’t comment but quietly begins his homework while keeping watchful eye on the little girl, not that he’d admit it if asked.

Adventure 8: The End. For now, anyway

She stretches after waking up, pleased to find her body back to its normal size. Ace snores lightly, Deuce’s mouth is agape, and Leona is nowhere to be found.

“Are you feeling okay?” Jack asks.

“Yeah, I actually feel pretty good!” Their conversation awakens their friends.

“You’re finally back to normal! I’m relieved,” Deuce interjects.

“You’re a lot of work for a minion, ya know? You’re lucky I’m so great,” Grim comments.

“That was a pain! You owe me big time!” Ace adds. MC shakes her head and wonders if she has the greatest or most chaotic friends.

[1] une petite princesse mignonne = a cute little princess

#writing Rook and Deuce are hard #Rook is so extra #and Deuce's speech pattern is something I'm not used to #hope you enjoy #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #deuce spade #ace trappola #leona kingscholar #jack howl #rook hunt #cater diamond #trey clover #wow I cannot believe this is 2K

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tiredcowpoke · 4 years

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TITLE: Always Fleeting PAIRING: Arthur Morgan/Reader REQUEST: @arethusa-arose said: “Wow I've read all your stuff on ao3 so first of all thank you for sharing the talent and cowboy thirst! I'm a sucker for anything with the enemies to lovers trope. I'm thinking of the reader being Brontes right hand but meeting Arthur under different circumstances so that when the rivalry is revealed it adds more tension. I've tried writing some shitty drabbles on this but I'm actually terrible at writing lol” WARNINGS: Angst, confrontations, mentions of kidnapping, some suggestiveness but it’s mostly angst I’m sorry. NOTE: First off, thank you! Secondly, this is more like ‘lovers to enemies,’ but hopefully this is to your expectations! I really like this idea and there’s a lot to do with it, much as I struggled to find a spot to end this. Still, I’m flattered you trusted me with it. Thank you. lol Also, I should mention that I’m still struggling with my writing so I’m sorry if things seem...off.

It was approaching late evening when you heard a knock on your front door.

You were leaning against the small balcony of your apartment--it wasn’t anything special. As much as you knew you had enough in both money and connections to get a better place, you felt it was less suspicious with your line of work. Saint Denis was as busy as it always was, wagons and horses moving down the cobbled streets and people talking and bustling about. You didn’t give your address out to many, you could only count a couple people who knew.

So, the sound had you pausing as you furrowed your brow. You glanced behind yourself toward the closed wooden door, straightening somewhat as you took in a breath as another knock broke through the faint noise of the street. Who could that be? Your boss rarely came to you--it was almost always the other way around. If it was a disgruntled...former associate of him, you really didn’t like the idea of them knowing where you lived.

You paused a moment to pick up the weapon you had placed on a table, holding the hand behind your back with the revolver in your palm. Opening the door somewhat, you were greeted with an unexpected sight.

The last time he had visited had been almost a month ago, he sight of him taking a moment until your brain recognized him as Arthur turned to look over at you, hat in his hands. As gruff as he was, as rough as the lifestyle he led, the sight was always a bit amusing to you. It was rare to run into a polite outlaw--not that there were many who frequented the streets of Saint Denis. Still, the sight put a small, confused smile to your expression.

You felt a little bad for keeping the gun hidden behind your back and the door.

“Mr. Arthur,” you replied around a small chuckle, “What a surprise. You didn’t write--I would have come to meet you.”

“Naw, ya never need to do that,” he returned, “Didn’t intend to visit, anyway, but…”

“Well that makes me feel special,” you returned, sarcastic but it didn’t run too deeply. Still, the comment seemed to make him raise his head to meet your gaze, brow furrowed somewhat.

“Didn’t mean it like that, just...this whole situation’s real complicated.”

“Well, come in,” you offered, some confusion pulling the confidence from your tone, “If you’re not here to see me, you must have something else in mind.”

It was strange--you had gotten used to Arthur disappearing from the city for long periods of time. He had no reason to stay, much as a part of you liked to think you gave enough influence to, and he had to head back to that gang of his. Really, you hadn’t been expecting to get close to the man at all. It was a risk, doing this. Having attachments. It was a risk in that you made plenty of enemies working for your boss; it was a risk in that you had someone to use against you if you pissed off your boss.

Still, there was something about Arthur. He had stuck out in the city the first time you had met him, tucked away into the more run down saloon Saint Denis had to offer. The regulars of the Bastille had a habit of staring if you acted in a way that wasn’t easily dismissed, so you had gotten used to telling people to head to this one when you needed to see them. Who walked through the door, however, was not the man you were looking for. For all the tailored suits and haughty dispositions that ran around the city, Arthur’s dirty and travel worn clothing along with his gruff demeanor had caught your attention. It had been enough for you to open up conversation with him, buy him a drink for the length he had rode to get to the city--as unintentional as he said it was.

He looked like he hadn’t set foot in a city in his life--it was later on that you learned he had, and it was enough so to have him avoid them for the rest of his life.

“Seein’ you is probably the only reason I’ve been ridin’ out this far these days,” he admitted one night, his voice low as his breath tickled the back of your neck as you lay in bed together.

It had been a revelation that put such a warm feeling swelling in your chest while it also dropped a heavy, fearful stone into your gut. That had been the sign you got that this whole dynamic was getting more serious, and you weren’t the only one who had been feeling it.

You hadn’t intended to get close to him--he was a way to pass some time the first time you met him until a nervous looking man had walked into the saloon from the back door, staring at you from across the room until you were able to make your leave to attend to him. It hadn’t been a friendly conversation, a concern over a poor man’s debt that your boss eventually dismissed after he had sent you and a couple of his men to the debtor’s home to collect it.

That had been the way of things, and you had carried on as normal.

Well, not completely so. You kept running into the cowboy.

He had come and gone, not exactly open to telling you what he was doing there. You had no room to judge, you kept your past close to your chest. Still, a couple drinks and conversations were shared, the two of you growing closer as time went along. Arthur seemed to embody a lifestyle that you had only heard about in storybooks and novels about old gunslingers. Sure, you hadn’t exactly had an easy life, either. Growing up in the poorer areas of a city, your remaining parent doing what they could to keep food on the table until they were eventually gone, too. You knew the ins and outs of the city streets, and that had been valuable when Angelo Bronte picked you up off the street.

Though, with the eventual closeness you developed with Arthur, it was revealed that you may have had more in common with him than you had expected. Yet, he seemed more...free. He wasn’t tethered to Bronte, something you resented but were powerless against. It was either this or the streets. With how people started to know you were associated with Bronte, living on the streets was dangerous and it wasn’t something you wanted to risk.

Still, you kept that to yourself. Bronte, what you did for work, you didn’t tell Arthur anything about it. Even as you let him further in. Into your life, your home, your bed.

Despite everything, you could admit to you starting to miss him while he was gone, especially with only a letter every now and again saying he was coming.

So, the current moment? It was odd.

“I guess...well, I figured you might know this city better than I do,” he said once you let him into the apartment, “I’m lookin’ for someone. It’s real important I find him.”

“Well, I know the streets but people might be a little difficult…” you said, not liking where this was headed as you shut the door behind him.

“You heard of a man named Angelo Bronte?” he asked, glancing toward you as you paused somewhat.

Ah, shit. Shit, shit, shit.

You tried to not shut your eyes against the surge of thoughts that raced through your head at his question. Had he figured you out? What did he want with Bronte?

“...I mean, sure,” you returned, “I heard his name muttered around the streets here and there, but I don’t think I could tell you where he is. He’s a hard man to get to.”

“Yeah, you’re tellin’ me…” Arthur muttered, rubbing the back of his neck somewhat.

“What do you need him for?” you asked, wishing you could have been anywhere but there.

“I...We got some business, it’s just real important we find him,” Arthur said, meeting your gaze as you tried to keep your expression even.

“Well...he’s very rich, I doubt you’ll find him around these parts of the city,” you said, Arthur seeming to accept that with a small sigh.

“Alright, thank you for answerin’ my question,” he returned, making you nod lightly in return.

He seemed to pause a moment before stepping forward to pull you into a bit of an embrace, something you would have returned in full and yet in the moment you couldn’t hide how tense you were. Still, you rested your hands against his shoulders for a few moments before stepping away before there could be any further affection.

You knew you had to tell Bronte--if you didn’t and he knew you knew who was asking around for him, well you didn’t want to know what he’d do. Still, you could feel the tension mounting as Arthur cast you a strange look.

“Well...once this is sorted, I’ll come see ya proper, alright?”

“Sure,” you said with a quick nod, something he returned with a questioning look and grin before heading toward the door. You followed him toward it somewhat. Though, upon him glancing back as he moved to close the door, you found your voice again.

“Just...be careful,” you said, “Bronte...from what I’ve heard, he’s not a man to be underestimated.”

“I’ll try,” Arthur returned before shutting the door behind him, leaving you to bow your head and stare at the floor in thought.

There were many reasons he could have been looking for Bronte over, though you didn’t know if there was anything--unless…

***

“You’re back!”

You forced a small smile at the excited cry once you entered the room, Jack lifting his head from the toy he had been playing with, sitting on the bed in the room. Night had settled, leaving the room to be lit by the lanterns and hanging lights. It had been a while since you had returned to Bronte’s home, since you had last seen Arthur. If he was showing up that night, you weren’t too sure, but you had to know if he would be alone. Doing so would be a death wish--he seemed smarter than that, but you wanted to confirm. So, you ended up wandering down toward the room where Jack was being kept. It was...odd to see him so content staying there--you had been expecting more crying, asking for his parents. There was plenty of that in the beginning, but Bronte had a charm about him. Especially on the impressionable.

“How are you doing, friend?” you asked, kneeling somewhat at the edge of the bed so he didn’t have to look up at you.

“Good! Is Papa Bronte going to teach me more Italian words?”

“Maybe, when he’s not busy,” you replied, offering him a somewhat tight smile. “Though, actually, I wanted to ask you some questions.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. Not too many,” you replied, “You remember how you said your parents lived with a big group of people?”

“Yeah!” he said with a quick nod before lighting up some. “Are they coming?”

“I-I’m sure they are, but I don’t know. I’m sorry,” you replied, “Though, do you remember the names of the other people you live with?”

Jack nodded somewhat enthusiastically, despite seeming to deflate somewhat at your answer about his parents.

“Do you know an Arthur?” you asked, “A big guy, has a black hat.”

“Yeah! Uncle Arthur!” Jack exclaimed, seemingly happy to hear about a familiar face.

Happy for him, not so much for you. You had to battle the sinking feeling in your gut from showing too much in your expression--maybe if you left now, you could avoid the confrontation. It seemed that Arthur was running with that group of outlaws Jack had been talking about--it was unlikely he would show up by himself. Warning Bronte might give you enough of his grace to not get into much trouble over tucking tail.

Not that it mattered, you already felt like shit over a number of things.

“Oh, good,” you returned, a little stiff but you offered him a small smile as you rose to your feet, “I think that’s all I…”

You trailed off at the sound of quick footfalls coming toward the room, a rather stern looking guard of the manor sticking his head in the door. He opened his mouth to speak, but you raised a hand before approaching the door more. Whatever was happening, you didn’t want to risk Jack making too much noise about it.

“We have some men approaching the house,” he stated, “Signor Bronte wants you to keep with the boy and join once we are sure there will be no shooting.”

“Thank you,” you muttered, turning to offer Jack another reassuring smile before slightly closing the door somewhat and stepping into the dark hallway.

It took a minute or two before, sure enough, you saw some of Bronte’s armed men escort three men in from outside. The first two you didn’t recognize, one of them being rather sharply dressed while the other had some notable scars on his face--the third, well, you knew very well. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like Arthur had seen you, following the other two into the room with their hands up.

A good sign.

You lingered, hearing some conversation from the other room--Bronte’s voice, mostly, though one of the newcomers was speaking to him as well. However, you noticed the shift in atmosphere, watching as the man nearest to the hallway subtly gestured you forward. Carefully, you moved toward them, watching as Arthur kept his eye on the man in front of him as he seemed to hover his hand over his pistol.

However, as you moved to stand beside the man who had gestured you toward him, Arthur’s gaze flickered toward you. It landed on you for a moment without much recognition until he lingered, the hardness to his gaze shifting somewhat into confusion and surprise. With a slow inhale against the tightness in your chest, you removed your revolver and raised it to point it toward his head, training your expression to be impassive.

Arthur’s, however, was pretty easy to read. That confusion shifted into some sort of anger--betrayal. Really, you knew a part of you wanted to say something--tell him something. Yet, you had no idea what you would even say. You already raised your weapon at him, there was no taking that back.

However, much as the tension was thicker than ever between you and Arthur, it seemed to break with a sharp laugh from Bronte in the parlor, claiming his love for the man currently threatening him--Dutch Van Der Linde, as he had been quick to introduce with a somewhat charming laugh of his own.

Thankfully, Arthur and his companions were invited to sit in the parlor with Bronte, giving you a minute to breathe as your lover’s gaze lingered on you for a moment before he turned to join the other two in the room without a word.

It was hard to focus, hard to keep your expression from giving the current situation away too much.

Still, unsurprisingly, Bronte managed to spin the situation for his benefit. Do something for him, they get their reward--it was a routine you knew very well. Considering the reward was Jack returning to them safely, it seemed like Dutch was fairly quick to push Arthur and the other man, John, to head into the cemetery. As the two of them rose and Dutch seemed to preoccupy himself with his drink for a moment, Bronte met your gaze and gestured lightly with his head.

Escort them outside, make sure they didn’t cause any issues.

You turned to walk out toward the front of the house, John very quickly left the grounds--you figured he must have been Jack’s father. However, Arthur found himself pausing before turning back to face you, taking a couple steps forward.

“You--” he hissed, pausing as you pressed a hand against his shoulder to keep him where he was.

“Later,” you stated, voice low. You held his gaze for a few moments, seeing the anger sitting there clear as day. You let out a light scoff, more bitter about your situation than at what you were seeing from Arthur. “I’m not sleeping tonight, you know where I live.”

Which meant that John, Dutch, and whoever else would know should he make it their business.

However, you had a feeling this was personal. As foolish as it may be, you didn’t put much stock into that thought.

“Arthur!” John called, pausing in the street, “The hell’re you doin’?”

The man in question shouldered off your touch, moving out toward the gate that was being held open for him. You lingered, watching him storm off toward his horse. It was almost funny--a few hours ago you had been joyously surprised to see him. All the conversations, the embraces, the kisses, the nights spent together…

You let out a low breath, turning to head back into the house to check on Jack and likely be forced to sit in on Dutch and Bronte’s conversation.

***

You knew it had to have been a while since you had left Bronte and Dutch at the house, returning back home to your own. Yet, it didn’t feel long enough until you heard the sound of hooves against cobblestone in the relative quiet of the streets, the noise stopping just outside your building. With a sigh, you rubbed at your eyes before rising from where you had been sitting at the edge of your bed.

Sure enough, a few hard knocks came at your door. Well, at least he was nice enough not to kick the damn thing in.

Though, Arthur was quick to slip into the room when you opened the door. He turned on you almost instantly, the confrontation you had been expecting ever since you had cut him off in the yard.

“Bronte?” he almost growled, completely tense but made no move to grab or corner you.

Still, you couldn’t help but spread your arms out at your sides somewhat as you stepped around him.

“You met the man,” you replied, “What do you make of him?”

“Real charmin’,” Arthur snapped, “Though, he didn’t make as much of an impression than you pointin’ a gun at my head!”

“I did what I was told,” you replied, letting out a sigh through your nose as Arthur scoffed.

“Was you just doin’ what you were told when you kidnapped a kid? That somethin’ you agreed with?”

“I don’t have the luxury to decide if that was agreeable or not!” you snapped, “I don’t get to question what Bronte does. If he starts questioning my loyalty, with all I know about him--you think he’d let me live a week?”

That seemed to stop that train of questions, Arthur turning his head away with his lips pressed into a thin line. He shook his head, running a hand over his mouth. As much as you were stern in making your point across, you were aware of how this must have hurt him. If you were being honest with yourself, it was ripping you apart. Ever since Jack had gleefully confirmed that you would have to defend Bronte in front of Arthur, you knew this was over.

Yet, it hurt. It hurt to see him like this, the anger and betrayal he carried in his body language. You took in a slow breath, biting the inside of your lip before letting it out through your nose. As much as you weren’t as foolish enough to do so, there was a part of you that wanted to reach out toward him. Comfort him.

“Arthur…” you started, the softer tone there despite yourself. However, that wasn’t lost on him.

“Oh, don’t you start,” he replied, the bite far from leaving his tone like it had done so with yours. You let him stand there in silence, you could almost see the wheels turning in his head, the heavy breathing.

“Tell me somethin’...” he continued, his tone tense but somewhat more calm, “All them times...all them times you kissed me, held me, made love to--they mean anythin’?”

“Yes,” you replied, stepping closer but stopped when it seemed like he didn’t want you to even do that, “Yes. Arthur...I had no idea why you had turned up earlier today.”

“I can’t believe this,” Arthur replied, shaking his head slightly.

“Bronte...he pulled me off the street when I was a kid,” you started, “Wasn’t out of the kindness of his heart, no--I was good at stealing, getting information. I learned pretty early on that his mercy and good graces are conditional. If I had turned on him in there, if he had known we were...I’d be dead.”

“Could’ve told me,” Arthur remarked, “Would’ve tried to protect you.”

“No,” you said around a bitter laugh, “I know you haven’t explored this city much, just the places I’ve taken you. You don’t know Bronte.”

“You don’t know Dutch,” he returned, turning to face you, “Y’know he’s gonna be milkin’ Bronte for all he’s worth. How things have been goin’, ain’t gonna be pretty.”

“I guess we’ll be seeing more of each other, then.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Arthur stated, narrowing his eyes, “This mean you gonna shoot me when you get the chance?”

“Are you going to do the same?” you challenged, tilting your head, “Taking Bronte out, taking me out--you’ll be doing me a favor. It doesn’t matter what I want, I can’t leave.”

Not unless Bronte was gone.

Arthur let out a sigh, shaking his head as he pressed a hand against his temple for a moment before dropping it back down to his side. “Can’t believe this.”

“Me too,” you muttered, “I’m not going to beg you to stay, I knew as soon as I pointed that gun that everything before then was gone.”

“...Jack’s gettin’ welcomed back by his family and I’m here with you,” Arthur said, narrowing his eyes before shaking his head and turning to head back toward the door before he paused a moment. “I ain’t gonna beg you to change sides, but...well, I don’t need to warn you.”

“No. No, you don’t.”

He really didn’t. Yet, you knew if Dutch and Bronte went head to head...there was a chance that Bronte could be gone. There was a chance you could be free from this. It didn’t matter with the deeds you had already committed under his guidance, the people you had hurt--Arthur now included. Still, there was a chance.

Yet, as you heard your door shut heavily behind Arthur, you knew that you’d be alone regardless of the outcome.

#my writing.#arthur morgan x reader

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princesstutufandemonium · 4 years

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Rapsblüte no Yoru (Princess Tutu epilogue skit) and my thoughts

Or: Why a bitch is still salty after 9 years

So, as previously mentioned on this blog, there was a skit presented at a Princess Tutu convention in 2004 by series creator Ikuko Itoh and chief director Junichi Sato called “Rapsblüte no Yoru.” It takes place about a year after the anime’s ending and serves to wrap up some loose ends about the characters and their feelings - particularly Ahiru and Mytho.

So I’ve talked about it before, but now more time has passed, so I thought I’d let the raging monster out of its slumber to REALLY address the epilogue and my own uncensored thoughts and feelings about it. Half of this ended up reading like a rant, really, but I just had to get it all out there.

Here is the skit, as recited by Japanese blogger Goma and translated by LiveJournal user csakuras, along with my reactions and thoughts, which are indicated by the blockquotes.

"Quaack.." Ahiru seems to be swimming on the river during a night with a beautiful moon It's been a while since then, and every day I'm happy. It's fun talking with my bird friends, and Madam Pelican is a little noisy, but...it's fun. And besides......whenever I look up, Fakir is always there.

So Ahiru has returned to life as a bird and has settled in well. Good for her.

Ahiru: "I've come all the way to Gold Crown Academy....somehow I feel like dancing." Saying that, Ahiru climbs onto the bank and is surprised to find the whole surface covered with rape blossoms. Ahiru: "Gwak!!" Autor: "Oh? What's this?" It seems he stepped on Ahiru.. Ahiru: "Gwakgwak!!" Ahiru protests. Autor: "Oh it's you, Ahiru-kun...isn't Fakir with you?" Autor backs away as Ahiru tries to talk to him. Autor: "Sorry, but could you not get so close? I'll start sneezing from my bird allergies." (The mystery of his dislike of birds is solved.) Ahiru: "Charon-san and Raetsel-san had a child so Fakir went to the celebration."

The idea of this seems to negate all of Raetsel’s development, but okay then.

Autor: "I see....by the way, did you come to see the Night of Rapsblüte too?" Ahiru: "Rap..Rapsblüte?" Ahiru asks curiously. Ahiru: "Rapsblüte are rape blossoms, right?" Here, Autor goes Hnph! with his nose as if making fun of her. Autor: "The Night of Rapsblüte is when once every 50 years, all the rape blossoms bloom simultaneously on a night of the full moon. According to what I've researched in the library, in the records of a student from 50 years ago, there is an eye-witness account." Ahiru heaves a sigh (lol) Autor: "And tonight, the weather, the date, everything matches with the past data!" Autor is full of confidence. "Besides that, you're in the music department so maybe you should be studying piano instead..." Ahiru mutters. Autor: "Did you say something?" Ahiru: "Huh? Autor can understand me." Hnph, he laughs at her with his nose again. Autor: "Anything can happen tonight and it wouldn't be strange." Ahiru: "The moon is so pretty..." (Here, a man wearing a mask of the moon appears from behind..it's a great hit in the assembly) Autor: "What's that? An onion?" Ahiru: "!!" Uzura: "Ho~ Ahiru zura~" *Tototon* (her drum) Ahiru: "Uzura-chan!!" Ahiru: "Uzura-chan! Where were you?" Uzura: "I've been wandering the interval of time with the old man zura."

WHAT does that even mean?! What is the interval of time?! Considering Uzura’s previous life as Edel, it’s surprising that Uzura chooses to stick with Drosselmeyer. He’s the one who put her Ahiru and Fakir through so much trouble, after all. Then again, Uzura is a child and probably has no memory or idea of the role Drosselmeyer played and the evil things he did. Uzura also isn’t human, so maybe human morals don’t bother her as much.

Ahiru: "By the old man do you mean Drosselmyer-san? Then where's Drosselmyer-san?" "Drosselmyer?!!" <--(Autor's switch is on) Uzura: "The old man is busy with updating the site zura, sorry he's so irresponsible zura." (Here, Director Satou is rolling with laughter.) Autor: "Why didn't you bring him with you?!" Clearly, his Drosselmyer otaku switch is on lol

I hate you, Autor. I try not to but I do.

Uzura: "One more is coming zura." Autor: "One more?" Mytho: ".......Tutu." Ahiru: "Mytho!!" (I can never forget Ahiru's sad voice here)

Ah, and here it is. The agony.

You know, I could possibly stomach the whole damn ending of the show if the epilogue doesn’t go on to make it entirely clear how heartbroken Ahiru still is. I mean, if Ahiru is actually happy, there’s nothing more you can want for her. But this here kind of ruins it. Like, why?! How am I supposed to be content with her situation when she’s sad at the mere sight of Mytho?!

Mytho: "It's been a while...." Uzura: "He was dancing on the balcony so I brought him zura." (....At your own pace as usual, Prince.) Autor: "Prince Siegfried from the story!! Myu...Mytho-san." (He sounds as emotional as if he were meeting Drosselmyer.) Mytho: "Are you Fakir's friend...?" Autor: "I'm Autor!" Mytho: "You were the one who helped Fakir? Thank you..." (How does he know..)

How DOES he know? Well, there was a tiny time skip between the defeat of the Raven and Mytho and Rue’s departure to the story. Perhaps things were explained a little during then.

Autor: "No! It was an honor." (only dimly remember) Mytho: "If I remember correctly, during our ballet lessons you were asked by Neko-sensei to accompany us on piano." Autor: "Yes, I was asked to accompany you on piano by Neko-sensei 11 times, and I passed by you with Neko-sensei in the hall 27 times." (Jeez, Autor's in high spirits (lol)) Mytho: "Fakir sometimes sees cows and alligators flying in the sky, so I'm worried. Could you take care of Fakir?"

Mytho seems to naturally be a little bit of an airhead. It’s funny to see that qualities of him that we saw in the anime can be attributed not to his lack of a heart and common sense, but just to how his personality really is. Cute.

Autor: "Yes!! Mytho-san, please leave him to me." (He's been left to him without having a say, Fakir's in a pinch (lol)) Ahiru: "Mytho? How is Rue-chan?" Mytho: "Rue is doing well." Mytho: "It seems Rue is good at singing too and she's a popular princess among the people." Autor: "Rue-san?"

So Rue is a true lady of the arts, not good only at dancing but at singing too. Interesting that she’s so popular, considering that she honestly doesn’t seem to be the most sociable person. Polite, but not going out of her way to be friendly. Perhaps her time in the story with Mytho has defrosted her even more. What is the new Rue like, I wonder?

Uzura: "Mytho is rabu-rabu with Rue zura~" Autor: "Could you be quiet for a while..." His voice is lacking energy and sounds like he might cry (He knows they're rivals in love..is that okay?)

WHY is Autor so torn up over Rue still?! He never even really spent time with her. Foolish kids, I tell you. She was hardly more than a pretty face to him.

Ahiru: "Thank goodness... Mytho. "The Concluding Volume of The Prince and the Raven" got published. It's not a story without an end anymore." Ahiru: "And also, soon Fakir's going to dance an all-male version of La Sylphide with Matthew Bourne-sensei's choreography!"

Soooo this part is confusing. The concluding volume… So The Prince and the Raven was a story published in installments? The show made it look like it was just a single novel. Unless they mean that they simply published an official ending… But if the story was given an ending, wouldn’t that affect the storybook world? And who wrote the ending and got it published, Fakir? A couple of questions that remain here.

Mytho: "Fakir....I always feel like I'm connected with Fakir..the more my country becomes peaceful, I can feel him close by." (It's...mostly dim recollection. Just the nuance of it.)

Yeah, don’t act like you didn’t just up and leave him AND Ahiru once your business was finished, Mytho. Anyways, skipping the salt, does this mean that Fakir’s conclusion to the novel made things more peaceful in the story world? That’s what it sounds like to me.

Actually, isn’t it kind of scary that Fakir can still wield influence over Mytho’s world? What if he got pissed off at him? yikes

Ahiru: "Mytho...." "You should meet Fakir! He's coming back tomorrow..so then.." Mytho: "I can't..I can only come here because the interval of time is connected tonight..see, the moon is already sinking this much." (The man playing the moon sinks down (lol) The assembly bursts into laughter again) "I see..."

WHAT is with this ‘interval of time’ nonsense again! Someone explain it to me!

Also, fuck Fakir, apparently.

Mytho: "Princess Tutu.....thanks to you, I can be like this. Thank you." Ahiru: "I wanted to see you smile, so my wish is already granted." (only dimly remember)

AND THERE IT FINALLY IS!!!

“Thank you, Tutu, for risking your life to save mine and restore my happiness and holding your tongue about your feelings for me so I could do nothing for you in return and leave hours later.”

No, I’m not salty. Anyways, the abrupt ending to the show without much dialogue was due to time constraints, not necessarily a true display of Mytho’s character, which I guess this epilogue was partly written to fix. It does seem pretty heartless when you watch the anime, though.

Mytho: "Princess Tutu, I wanted to be with you longer. I wanted to talk with you like this longer....to me, you are the light....because you are someone very special..." (?? Mytho/Ahiru?)

See, this is why I just can’t do it. Like, Mytho, are you fucking kidding?! You leave her alone as a duck and now you want to sweet-talk her?!

But actually, all bitterness aside, this is really sad. They obviously care for each other, but because of circumstances and plot, never once did they have the time to really just… talk.

And he still sees her as the light. I saw some people kind of making fun of this, but of COURSE he does. There was a considerable period of time when she was the only person vouching for him, keeping him safe, acting as his voice… and ultimately saving him in every way. He can only be a real person again because of her, and she never faltered in her mission. That’s INCREDIBLE. Of course he would hold her in high regard.

Mytho: "But, I have to protect Rue. Rue needs me...." (I'm sorry, it's completely out of memory...because I was so overwhelmed..(lol) I should take my reeling in moderation)

And here’s the dagger. After talking about how highly he thinks of Ahiru/Tutu… he backtracks by saying Rue needs him.

And you know why this is REALLY fucking sad? He doesn’t say that “But, I really enjoy being with Rue” or “But, I love Rue.”

He says he has to PROTECT Rue. Rue NEEDS him.

I don’t think I need to dive too deep into the implications of his wording to spell out why this is upsetting, but I’ll sum it up quick. Instead of saying he likes being with Rue, he says Rue needs me. That’s the first thing that comes to mind.

And if it means what I think it means, that’s just fucking harsh. That’s not fair for Rue. That’s not fair for Ahiru. That’s not fair for Mytho.

I mean, we all know the prince has a savior-complex, but the implication that he chose Rue because he feels a sense of duty to protect her instead of romantic affection is kind of… tragic. That’s not a happy ending at all, really. Does Rue have any idea?

I think this is why I have an issue with Ruetho, because no matter what you can’t escape the fact that Mytho will always view her through the lens of what she suffered. It’s just in his personality as a heroic, selfless prince. Doesn’t Rue deserve someone who sees her as… more than someone to protect?

Whatever, can’t be changed now.

Mytho: "Tutu...you have done so much for me, but I couldn't do anything for you." "Is there something I can do for you, Tutu?"

WHAT on Earth could he possibly expect to be able to do for her?! I mean, short of turning her human again, but I’m guessing that’s out of the scope of his abilities. Don’t be so bait-y.

Ahiru: "......Mytho! I.........." "No, nevermind..." (Ahiru sounds incredibly sad)

AUGHHHHHHHH

What was she going to say? You know what, probably doesn’t matter anyway. We know what she wants… she can’t have it, though.

Mytho: "It's almost time..." "See you again....Tutu...." (Jeez..I don't remember any of it) Ahiru: "Can we meet again?" Mytho: "Surely we will meet again..." Mytho (or is it Yanagi-san? lol): "We can meet again, when Sakurai-kun is here." (The assembly explodes with laughter)

NOOOOOOOO

No no no

No, do NOT meet again. This is just asking for trouble. Ahiru clearly isn’t over Mytho, and Mytho… clearly does not have his priorities straightened out. If they keep meeting like this…

Well, as the anime shows, it wouldn’t be the first time they put themselves through the wringer for love. Mytho recites something in German. "Waaao!!" <--(Uzura)

What did he say? I’m curious.

Here, Mytho says his never-ending feelings for Tutu (if someone remembers this part please tell me~) And at the end, Mytho: ".......Ahiru."

……..Yeahhh, probably not a good idea to meet again.

Like, I get that this epilogue is to ‘tie up loose ends’ including the torched remnants of Mythiru that were dropped so abruptly at the end, but...

Why, oh why, Mytho, did you choose Rue if you’re still hung up on Tutu?

Additionally, we see that Mytho DOES now know that Tutu is Ahiru. That’s bittersweet too, but in more of a good way. He finally knows that the little passionate goofball was the princess all along. I wonder who told him, or how he found out. Did he just figure it out on his own? Like, the duck that was once Princess Tutu must be Ahiru because Ahiru = duck? Maybe Uzura told him? I doubt Fakir would’ve, simply because once she was back to being a duck again permanently, there was really no reason to tell Mytho. Couldn’t much matter anymore, right?

Ahiru: "I get the feeling I heard Mytho's voice at the end." I am a duck....I can't wear toe shoes, I can't dance.. (I'm sorry, I don't remember) But inside my chest there is a sparkling gem that will never be broken. The end.

And that’s it.

Sooo a lot of conflicted feelings coming at me from this, if you couldn’t tell. I guess first is the question of whether or not this could be considered canon.

Honestly? I think so. Both Ikuko Itoh and Junichi Sato, the people behind Princess Tutu, worked on this and presented it. They even had some of the Japanese VAs present to act it out. Additionally, as I’d mentioned previously, it addresses some questions that were left open due to the somewhat rushed ending of the anime’s finale. And nothing presented in this skit goes against the show’s canon or really comes out of left field (aside Charon and Raetsel man tf). It’s short and sweet.

Moving on, the first time I read this I was really happy, simply because it makes it clear that YES, Mytho does return Ahiru’s feelings. Which I guess was clear in the anime too, but this skit makes it undeniable. It’s nice to feel validated.

But as time goes on and I’ve had the chance to chew over and really digest it… It’s kind of a really crappy situation for our heroine and hero. Like, so they are in love, and they want to continue seeing each other… but Mytho is SUPPOSED to be spoken for with Rue, and Ahiru is a duck. Not to mention that Ahiru is Rue’s FRIEND. C’mon girl, chicks before dicks. Of course, they could still interact platonically, but the confession from Mytho in this skit kind of shot that possibility dead. And what about Fakir in this mess? Granted, Fakir isn’t stupid – he’s known that Ahiru loves Mytho from the beginning, and it’s not exactly like he can be in a relationship with a duck. But still.

Maybe I’m just looking too far into things, but with a piece this short and direct, I don’t know how deep you can really dive.

Anyways, my final thoughts are: Mythiru is canon but in the most tragic way possible, Rue deserves better, annnnnnd I’m still left unsatisfied.

#princess tutu #pt #tutu #ahiru #mythiru #mythotutu #rant

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emmabirb8 · 4 years

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Regarding Lucifer

I have a dumb, random question for the Megamind fandom. Have you guys ever watched Lucifer? If not, I think you'd really enjoy it. I just recently finished the available seasons and immediately regretted not having watched it sooner. It's insanely good!!

Lucifer is based on a character from the DC/Vertigo comic series The Sandman, which is written by Neil Gaiman who ALSO happens to have co-written (with Terry Pratchett of course) the novel on which Good Omens is based, and I KNOW some of you Megamind fans are into Good Omens. (I personally haven’t watched it quite yet, but I plan to, and I know I’ll enjoy it.) Gaiman is not the showrunner or writer of Lucifer like he is with Good Omens, but from what I’ve seen, both are similar shows in terms of themes, subject matter, characters, etc.

Before I get into the Megamind-related bit, I gotta take a minute to plug Lucifer. :P

So, being named Lucifer, the main character of the show is, logically, the Devil. Now, I know that might sound off-putting, especially if you're religious, but I promise the way the show goes about storytelling makes it just the opposite.

It's very much a fantasy story that takes ideas from Abrahamic religions and shapes them into a mythological mishmash that totally challenges any previous ideas you might've had about the subject matter. It's fascinating! Lucifer himself comes off more like a Hades figure rather than… well, Satan lol.

It's mostly... cop drama meets comedy meets mythology/religious ideas and characters and it's just overall a really fun time. Oh, and there are a lot of fantastic female characters and characters of color, so that's an added bonus as well. It’s kind of unexpected coming from a show about Satan, but it's such a welcome breath of fresh air.

The reason I'm bringing it to the attention of Megamind fans in particular (besides the fact that it’s similar to Good Omens and has its origins in Neil Gaiman) is because there are SO MANY similarities between the main character, Lucifer, and Megamind. I totally wasn't expecting that when I went into it, but I was delightfully pleased when I made the connection.

Just off the top of my head, both Megamind and Lucifer:

are not human

are bisexual

were forced into the designated roles of "villains" or "bad guys" of their stories, though neither of them is actually evil (quite the contrary - both of them care about right and wrong more than most)

put on elaborate facades in public to hide their true selves and because they love the Presentation™️

struggle with finding their purpose in life and who they truly are/who they’re truly meant to be

tend to be judged harshly by the people around them

struggle with self-worth issues and deal with strong senses of self-hatred (believe themselves to be no good monsters)

fall in love with headstrong, passionate women with strong moral values who are able to see who they truly are on the inside and who love them back for who they truly are

call the women they're in love with by titles rather than first names ("Miss Ritchi" and "Detective" respectfully)

constantly banter back and forth with said women

have risked their lives to protect said women

act as though these women would automatically be attracted to them because they're just so handsome but in reality, they don't think of themselves as remotely genuinely desirable (in Lucifer’s case, anything on a deeper emotional level beyond the quick sex flings he has), and are honestly flabbergasted at the idea that they deserve to be loved authentically

And that's the other main reason I've grown so fond of the show. Lucifer and Chloe are practically a mirror image of Megamind and Roxanne. It's uncanny, really. Take a look at this scene from season 1 of Lucifer and tell me it's not eerily similar to the "Temptress" scene from Megamind.

Also this:

I mean… right?!

Besides that, it's just an incredibly entertaining, complex, and emotionally intense show, and I highly recommend it to anyone looking for something wild and different to watch.

Something I personally love about it is the fact that it places the blame for humanity’s sins solely on the humans themselves. This really struck a chord with me because in real life, people scapegoat far too often. Blaming “The Devil” or any other entity for your own wrongdoings is just an excuse to absolve yourself of your sins without having to face the reality that you have the free will to choose your actions, and you are choosing to do evil things. It’s certain people, NOT the Devil, who cause suffering in others, and those people need to own up to their actions and face consequences accordingly. This show fully embraces that ideology.

Oh, and I almost forgot to mention the soundtrack! This show has hands down the BEST soundtrack of any show I've ever seen. It adds a whole extra layer of awesome to it. :D

It originally aired on Fox, but the bastards cancelled it (of course). It would've stayed dead if it weren't for all the avid, determined fans who campaigned for its return, and it was (thank God! or perhaps Satan? ;P) picked up by Netflix who produced a fourth season. A fifth (and supposed final) season will be released later this year.

Seriously y'all, give it a chance if you haven't yet. It's so worth it.

(And Lucifer fans, give Megamind a watch. It does not disappoint. ^^)

#lucifer #lucifer on netflix #megamind fandom #megamind #lucifans #neil gaiman #lucifer and megamind #the bad guy characters #my posts #i'm so sorry this post is so long i always write essays when i post shit

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whumpgalore · 5 years

Note

New to tumblr so apologies if this isn't how to ask a long question, but I've numbered the sections of my question so you can hopefully follow along - 1 - I just wanted to reach out to thank you for creating this blog. I only just discovered the term whump and this blog and community have helped clarify so much about myself I never really wanted to confront. For as long as I could remember I've been obsessed with this and always believed on some level I must be a psychopath to derive pleasure

2 - from watching people (specifically attractive men….) get hurt in increasingly specific situations. It’s so strange to have a word to put to this at last, and the last few days have almost felt like a hallucination, as I read other posters describe feelings and situations that are so similar to my own they could have come straight from my brain. I’d always known there were some serial killers that got off on hurting people, but I knew that wasn’t quite what I was experiencing.

3 - I could never feel anything other than disgust when it came to people getting hurt in real life, but as soon as it was behind the safety barrier of fictionalization anything was fair game. That is, the thought of even giving someone a papercut in real life made me feel horrible, but some attractive character in a tv show getting stabbed or shot was the best part of any series. Like many other posters I had informal collections of whump, and a little dvd case with chapter numbers memorized of

4 - the best movie scenes to watch to get my fix. One benefit of this odd attraction is that it’s easier to hide than a purely sexual one, as I wasn’t watching phoebe cates step out of a pool over and over again and risking my parents stepping in at the wrong moment, but was instead watching The Matrix for the 20th time or fast forwarding to all the Mr. Orange scenes in Reservoir Dogs. If this is turning into a therapy session I apologize, it just feels so strange to know that there are other

5 - people who understand this deep dark secret I’ve had since I was a child. My question is, do you or anyone else who read this blog have a physical sensation when watching a whump filled scene? It’s not really sexual, but I feel a very distinct sensation in my stomach, and it’s this sensation that I’m chasing by watching whump. When a scene is fresh this sensation is strongest, but there are diminishing returns over time if that makes sense. Just curious how it manifests in other people!

_______________________________________________________________________

Hello, hello!

First of all, as all my replies begin, I apologize for the ridiculous amount of time it took me to respond to this. Partly because I’ve been so absurdly busy, I haven’t had much time to devote to this blog - and partly because answering a question with this much weight intimidated me… haha.

Secondly (which perhaps I should’ve mentioned first - little P&P reference there for all you nerds aka me), welcome welcome welcome to the whump community!! This is the freakin’ best community in the world. I have no doubt about that whatsoever. The people here are the most welcoming, warm, understanding and open people I have ever “met”, and it absolutely makes my day to interact with any of them. We’re all free to be us here, no matter what kind of whump we like, how long we’ve liked whump, or why we like whump! It’s a community that has been built on our mutual love for whump - and has expanded into so much more. Okay, I’m done. But seriously. This is the best place to be. ;)

And BOY OH BOY. I feel like we all experienced these same feelings you expressed - in one degree of intensity or another - before discovering that there actually were other people out there who felt the same way and liked the same things that we felt shame for growing up! There’s nothing quite like that feeling of discovering that you’re not alone! Best. Feeling. EVER.

I know, speaking for myself, thinking I was a serial killer, sadistic, sick etc never really crossed my mind, because I knew me, and knew that that was not me in any way. Like you mentioned, seeing people injured in real life is terrible. I can’t stand it. (I decided not to go into nursing for that very reason. Blood etc doesn’t bother me, but I’m too empathetic, I couldn’t handle the emotional side of it.)

I’ve eventually discovered that most of my guilt / worry / unease came from the fear that other people would find out about my “obsession” (and it is an obsession, lol) with whump - and would think I was a serial killer, sick or something like that. I’m still very guarded about that in real life - because, for the most part, unless you’re a whumper yourself, there’s no way people would understand a whumper and what makes them tick. They just wouldn’t. I don’t think we quite understand ourselves in that way, haha.

And the cool thing about this community is that we have “kink” whumpers here - where their favorite kind of whump is sexual, non-con, bondage, etc - and we have “non-kink” whumpers (like myself) where there is nothing sexual about whump whatsoever. We also have whumpers that like the “hurt” side of h/c more than the “comfort”, and some (like myself) who prefer the “comfort” / aftercare aspect over the actual whump itself.

There is no scientific explanation (as of yet) that can explain why we like whump… and what makes us like different parts of whump / whumpees / situations, and what makes them our favorites! But, to answer your question, I think the majority of us have experienced that sensation in the pit of our stomach that feels like butterflies on an extreme level… we have dubbed them “whumperflies”. ;)

You described the whumperfly sensation perfectly! I find that the first time I watch some really good whump, the whumperflies are most active. That flutter in the pit of your stomach… I have no idea what that is, what it’s from or why we get it. Lol. (Gosh, this sounds hilarious. Whumperflies. I flipping love it, haha.) If I come right back to the whump scene, they’re not quite as active, but if I come back a few months later and watch a favorite whump scene again, they’re back to their full activity.

Is this what everyone else has experienced? I’d definitely be curious myself to hear how the “whumperflies” act with each individual whumper. ;D

Anyway. Anyone who knows me knows that I can’t keep an answer simple, and absolutely must write a complete novel and ramble when presented with asks like this. I hope this was somewhat helpful to you - hopefully, you will see this! - and you are always welcome to message me with any questions / comments / recommendations, etc… or just to chat! I’m always here. (Even if it does take me 2 years to respond to questions #oops)

Anyone else have anything to add on this topic? I’d love to hear some other thoughts on the matter. :)

-WG

#anon #asks #whump community #long post

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janelevy · 5 years

Text

a witch in the woods (reesker)

@homeschooledbookfanatic requested “you owe me a kiss” + ava bekker. i know it came from a fluffy prompt list, but... this veered away from that a little!

summary: sarah has travelled a long way and after hearing unsettling rumors of an evil old hag living in the woods, she has no choice but to venture into danger and uncertainty. however, this witch turns out not to be what she imagined.

(so this is what happens when i get too carried away! this is meant to take place in some otherworld of the past, and world building is fun, lol. i guess this became super long to make up for my lack of reesker content? oops!)

When Sarah decided to stop and take a load off in the small village, she only planned to stay for a day, maybe two. She didn’t have time to hang around for too long, because each second that ticked by was another second for her little brothers to grow sicker.

She was exhausted, though, so she purchased one night’s stay at a shabby little inn on the corner of the main drag through town. When the front desk clerk told her the price, Sarah bit her tongue and poured nearly all the gold coins she was carrying out of their worn leather pouch onto the wooden desk. She counted out the correct amount and nudged the pile to the clerk, who in turn handed her an aged brass key with a corresponding room number engraved in it.

With a quiet “thank you,” Sarah turned away, heaved her knapsack higher up her shoulder, and began to climb up the creaky stairs. She took her time wandering down the second floor corridor to her room, which was situated all the way at the end of the hall to her left. This wasn’t a big place, but the hallway seemed endless with all its shadowy nooks and crannies. She peered around cautiously from the splintering oak floors to the cobweb-crusted door frames and decided she wouldn’t waste her time getting out of here in the morning.

Once she was in her room, Sarah shouldered off her bag and rested on a wobbly little nightstand. A dusty lamp perched precariously near the edge of the small table, and she pushed it closer to the center because just looking at it made her nervous. Then she slipped her hood off her head, took off her cloak, and kicked off her shoes. That was all she could manage to do before she fell into bed. The mattress seemed alive and pulsing beneath her, whining at every tiny movement Sarah made, so she slept restlessly. Still, she kept her eyes squeezed shut and stayed there until morning light crept in through the heavy, dust-caked window shades.

Hours later she sat up and squinted at the clock on the wall; it read a quarter after eight, though that seemed a little fast because the sunlight was only just gathering outside. Sarah was ready to leave, however. She felt like her lungs were lined with cobwebs now after breathing in this musty air all night. Quietly she gathered her meager belongings, swept her hair back into the hood of her cloak, and took her leave.

She was walking out the door after returning her key when her stomach rumbled. Of course. She had completely forgotten about breakfast... and last night’s dinner... and yesterday’s lunch. She was so distracted these days, so focused on just getting home. Maybe this explained why she felt so nauseous and shaky lately.

Instead of turning left out of town, Sarah turned right, back the way she had come in yesterday. She walked slowly, the rubbed-off toes of her boots scuffing the bumpy cobblestone street, and scanned over various storefronts and homes looking for a place to eat. After nearly ten minutes of searching, she found a tiny cafe nestled between a bustling general store and a wide alleyway.

Sarah stepped inside and was immediately met with a blast of coffee-scented warmth that greeted her with a hug like an old friend. She exhaled, gripping her hood tightly under her chin as she wove between the crowded round tables. All around her was conversational chatter, the clinking of mugs, and the sound of chairs scraping the scarred wood floor. The noise was a bit overwhelming, so she tried to drown it out by holding her hood as tightly as possible around her face.

She approached the front, where a straightforward menu was chalked onto the black painted surface of the counter. She was able to make out the blurry words “COFFEE ..... 5ȼ” and “BISCUITS ..... 2 FOR 15ȼ” between smudges, smears, and spills. Sarah smiled at the woman behind the counter and ordered those items before handing over the money.

A few minutes later, with a cup of black coffee and a cloth packed with warm, freshly-baked biscuits in her hands, she made her way over to a relatively private table in a corner and began eating quickly because there was no time to waste.

The entire time there Sarah kept to herself, but let her ears stay open to nearby conversations. She adored novels, but more than anything else, Sarah liked to listen to people for news rather than read words from a grimy newspaper page. It was the method she had adopted since beginning her travels, and she had managed to keep up with general events ever since.

The closest person to her was a middle-aged man who sat slouched in his chair with a newspaper spread wide in his hands. He shifted his spectacles up his nose and didn’t look up until another man who Sarah presumed to be his companion took the seat across from him.

“Lemme guess, you’re reading the story ‘bout that old hag in the woods,” the other man said as he wiped at his bushy mustache.

“It’s been reprinted day after day for weeks now, it’s difficult to avoid it,” his friend replied. He shook his head grimly and closed the paper, setting it on the table. “I can’t believe another innocent girl was lured in by dark magic. It’s the Devil’s work, I tell you.”

The mustached man sneered. “What I think they should do is send out a party to get rid of that vile woman once and for all. Shoot her dead, twist her neck ‘til it snaps, I don’t care. She’s old and ugly, won’t hurt her. Only then she’ll stop stealing our girls away.”

Sarah inwardly winced and stopped listening, focusing instead on finishing off her second biscuit. So, great, there was apparently a wicked witch hiding out in the woods, and Sarah’s planned route took her straight through the forest. There had to be a way to avoid this, right?

After finishing her food and drink, she returned to the front counter to drop off her empty mug. “Thank you,” she said again to the woman who was dusting off her apron and barely paying Sarah any attention. “Um, before I go, I wanted to know if you could help me?”

Just asking an out-of-the-ordinary question was making Sarah’s stomach flip over and over, but she knew it was better to be safe than sorry. The woman looked at her expectantly. “What is it?”

“I’ve been travelling quite a distance, and my next projected path leads me through the woods, but... I was curious if there is any way to avoid that, perhaps an alternate route...?”

The woman nodded, her face drawn and serious. “Oh, yes, you most definitely don’t want to enter the woods. You’re certain to run into that evil old witch.”

When she didn’t add anything to that, Sarah blinked and asked again, “I understand, but is there any other path I can follow that won’t lead me into that risk?”

The stranger’s response to that was a hearty laugh, and Sarah cringed and leaned away. “Oh, dear!” she said, grasping her chest. “You think there’s a way around all those trees and shadows? No! Of course there’s not.” She took a few seconds to calm down and regain her composure. It was then she said, “It’s better for you to either turn around or stay here.” She smiled, and Sarah’s skin crawled. The coffee in her stomach went cold. “There’s a reason they named this town Dead End, dear.”

Unsure how to absorb this, Sarah muttered out a rushed thank you and would’ve sprinted out of there if it weren’t for all the tables and people. Once she emerged back onto the street, she took a moment to catch her breath and think.

In the end, though, there really was no decision to be made; she knew what she had to do if she wanted to see her brothers and heal them. Sarah walked up to the edge of the woods, peered into its selection of shadows and secrets, then took the plunge.

Sarah moved briskly through the trees for about an hour, holding her compass steady in front of her the entire time. Half-rotted leaves crunched under her feet, rusted remnants of last autumn. Her surroundings were filled with endless undergrowth, twisted vines dotted with thorns, and skeletal branches rustling high above her head. She was grateful she got an early start, because this was not a place she would want to be at nightfall.

It was only when she stopped for a minute-long break when she felt that icy unease creep into her bloodstream. She had parked herself on a moss-covered boulder and was staying alert to what was around her, and she was alert enough to notice a small hut in the distance.

Instantly Sarah knew what that place must be, and right away she stood up and continued on. Then, with horror, she realized that her compass was pointing in the exact direction of the house. She gulped and shuddered; if she tried to make a wide detour around the structure, she didn’t trust herself not to get disoriented and lose her way.

And so, Sarah steeled herself and marched towards it, almost completely silent save for the leaves below her boots.

As she got closer to the house, she noticed how in shambles it was, and hoped for a split second that maybe it was uninhabited, because it sure looked that way. But hadn’t those men in the cafe mentioned the witch stealing another girl just recently? Sarah bit her lip and kept her distance just to be sure. She stared straight ahead and was so intent on getting past the house that she failed to notice the thinly-veiled trapdoor that would lead her right into it.

When Sarah awoke, she felt warm again. She peeled open her sleep-crusted eyes and groaned, noticing a heavy woolen blanket placed over her. She turned her head and noticed her knapsack hanging from a convenient hook in the wall, her cloak tucked under it. It took another minute for her to fully come to, and in that minute the panic set in and built up its strength.

Keeping quiet since she wasn’t sure of her captor’s current whereabouts, Sarah sat up in the cot and looked around. The window across the room only showed forest outside with a bright afternoon sky - damn, how many hours had she laid here? How many hours had been wasted? And she had a feeling she knew the exact place she was in, if her last memory served her right.

She knew she had to get out. It was just a matter of how. Holding her breath because even the slightest whistle could alert the old hag, Sarah slid her legs off the side of the bed and dragged her boots over. She only managed to get one of them on before she was interrupted.

“If you’re planning on leaving so soon, then at least give me time to brew you your next dose.”

A young woman came into Sarah’s view from around the corner. She wore a silvery gray gown that billowed gracefully around her bare feet; the plainness of her clothes contrasted with the brilliance of her looks. She tucked a wavy strand of caramel-colored hair behind her ear, which also had a quill pen propped behind it. Sarah stared into a set of unnervingly captivating hazel eyes and felt her heart rate spike with alarm.

“Dose?” she demanded in a hoarse voice that didn’t sound like her own. “What... what did you give me?”

Sarah could only assume that this beautiful stranger was the witch’s servant, or maybe one of the girls she had lured here. But she doubted it was the latter, because this woman seemed to know her way around the place. The servant leafed through a book with yellowed pages as she answered. “Just something to ease the pain in your head. You took quite a tumble.” She turned another page, then another, as Sarah watched. She couldn’t place the woman’s accent, but it was alluring nonetheless. Smooth and deep like the cup of black coffee she drank earlier.

“I took a tumble be- because of the trap your friend set,” Sarah said. She was too achy and taken aback to be angry.

The stranger froze and fixed her gaze on Sarah again. “My friend?”

“Yes, your friend! Or master, or whatever you call it.”

A smirk began to tug at the woman’s lips, and it got under Sarah’s skin way too easily. “Is that so? And who is this you’re speaking of?”

“The witch,” Sarah said, exasperated. “The witch everyone in that town has been talking about.”

“That town? Oh, you mean Dead End.” There was a chuckle, the kind that made Sarah think of nice things. “Everyone there is a little strange, Sarah.”

Sarah’s face fell even more. “How do you know my name?”

“How don’t you know mine?” the woman countered, gliding over to her like a skater on ice. “Since I’ve been such a popular subject over there.”

Her hands were feather light as they touched Sarah’s face. Fingers grazed over her jawbone, chin, forehead. Somehow she had the firm press of a doctor’s hands while also staying so gentle that Sarah didn’t want to shy away. After a minute she mumbled, “So you’re telling me you’re the witch.”

The pale brown eyes that had been evaluating Sarah’s face now pulled back and were paired with a charming smile. “Of course I am. Though after most people spend awhile here in my home, they start to call me Ava.” She remained crouched before Sarah a few moments more, then straightened and returned to paging through her book of... spells? Potions and magical elixirs? “Anyway,” Ava said, “if you would just allow me to prepare another dose of the painkiller, you can be on your way soon. I do apologize for the trapdoor; it’s old and I had completely forgotten about it. Usually people simply walk up to my front door or avoid my home altogether.”

Sarah nodded, and with permission granted Ava started to gather ingredients. She sat there cross-legged on the cot observing Ava’s tender, calculated work, and was a little too dumbfounded to speak. How had those townspeople gotten it so wrong? There was still one issue left unsolved, however, and it took her a while to draw up the courage to ask about it.

“I don’t understand. The villagers were talking about girls you lure to your ‘lair.’ They don’t just... fall through the trapdoor, then you fix them up and send them off?”

Ava stirred the pot and hummed in amusement. The steam coming off the soupy mixture caused a light flush that traveled down from her cheeks and settled in her chest. Sarah was positively entranced by her.

“I’m unsure where they got that idea from. I’ve had a few girlfriends that have come out here to spend time with me.”

“You make them come all the way out here?”

Ava ladled some of the brew into a glass jar and secured a lid on it. She walked back over to Sarah and sat beside her. “I prefer my solitude out here in the woods,” she told her, turning the jar over in her youthful yet calloused hands. There was a pause during which they gazed at each other, then Ava killed it by shoving the potion into Sarah’s arms. “Well, here it is. I won’t keep you any longer now.” She hesitated again, and Sarah didn’t stop her when a few weightless fingers stroked through her curls. Was she imagining Ava leaning in towards her?

But then Ava stopped and hopped up, feverishly wiping her hands on her dress. “I’ll see you out. I- I know you’re a medic, you need to get home to your brothers.”

Sarah swallowed and placed the jar inside her bag, then threw it onto her shoulder after sliding her cloak back on. She suddenly felt like her medical knowledge was worthless compared to the vast encyclopedia of healing methods she knew must be in Ava’s head. She figured she must have a vicious headache from her fall, yet she still felt not even a twinge from it. She had never known such a phenomenon was possible. Ava came straight out of the fairytales Sarah’s mother used to read to her before bed.

She could pick up on Ava’s restlessness, though, so she followed her to the door. Then she asked, “What do I owe you for this medicine?”

Ava halted and turned back to her. “Nothing, I suppose.”

“No, I... I insist.” Sarah started to dig through her knapsack. “I have coins--”

“No, please.” That made her drop everything and glance back up at Ava’s angel-carved face. Silence wrapped around them, and Ava seemed to wait until it became suffocating before she murmured, “What if I say you owe me a kiss?”

Sarah felt like she could swallow her own tongue whole, but that wouldn’t do her any good here. She calmed her trembling heart and all she could muster was a nod. Again Ava leaned in to her and this time successfully captured Sarah’s lips onto her own, holding her close for a long while. Sarah breathed her in, inhaling all of Ava’s sweet scent of lilac until every last drop was sucked away, because she wanted to remember her forever.

Sarah made it five minutes into the woods before she gave in to herself and turned around to go back. She needed more of Ava, more of something that she couldn’t quite grasp.

She walked and she walked and she was sure she should’ve come across the little hut a hundred times by now. Sarah spun around again, one eye on her compass, and came to a stop surrounded by the same old bushes and leaves and branches. Her gaze fluttered down to the bald earth below her feet. It seemed too firmly packed and smoothed over to not be manmade, yet there was no sign of life around her except for -

She knelt down and picked up the one object that caught her eye: an old quill pen covered in dust, as if it hadn’t been touched in hundreds of years. Sarah thought she had seen the feather tucked behind an ear mere minutes ago. She stood up, slipped it into her pocket, and thought maybe she was mistaken.

#chicago med #sarah reese #ava bekker #reesker #fanfic

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pnwswiftie · 5 years

Text

I felt owned by an employer once. He was sexist and baited me into working for him only to turn the tables and gaslight me. And to be honest I’ve never pin pointed the feeling that has sat in my gut about him until recently; until watching my idol go through the same thing on a large scale in front of the world, until what has happened, what has been happening to Taylor Swift in her industry.

Mine was a veterinary surgeon whom I worked with in the past. I left the veterinary field and started a new career. The Vet (we will call him) moved away and when he came back he contacted me with a new idea to start his own practice.

He painted me a beautiful picture of what this clinic would be like. He said he couldn’t do it without me and promised me the world. I still remember the phone call where he said the words- “you will be my practice manager, my right hand, you could run the show and have a handsome career, I’ll make sure you are set for life, you will have an opportunity to buy into the company as well, to profit share.

He offered to pay me whatever my current job paid me. I didn’t jump at saying yes. I worked so hard to be where I was and this was a big risk. My now husband was hesitant and didn’t trust him 🚩 but supportive of whatever I chose (love him). Well, im the only one of me so a month later I took the jump and put in my notice. I trusted him.

I was hired on with one other person. A male, roughly my same age, overall a nice dude. We will call him Sam. I was in charge of all operations of the front desk and all aspects of the business side of things. I started every excel sheet for income tracking, taxes, inventory. I created every document, I created the scheduling program, I set up every vendor accounts. I scanned every piece of paper that came into the clinic doors, I set up our benefits. I answered phones I handled every single client. I visited clinics and preached to people our vision, so they would refer to us (we were a referral based clinic) on my days off. I did it ALL. I also scrubbed into surgery with the Vet and Sam, as there were only 3 of us running the entire show. If the phone rang, I would answer on a headset under my face mask and handle a client or clinic call right there, scrubbed in. I didn’t mind, I felt proud to show off my multitasking skills. He would give a little wink and a joke and the validation felt nice, like I earned his approval 🚩 when I did something above and beyond.

About a year went by and I was rolling in hard earned money, that’s for sure. I was working 7 am to 10 pm some days so I always had overtime. Sam was responsible for 1 thing- patient care, and I was responsible for LITERALLY everything else you could possibly think of. 🚩Needless to say I was getting worked to the BONE 🚩 . I was cool with it tho, this is what I signed up for right? We were growing and successful and getting BUSY!

One day I accidentally found out the pay gap 🚩between myself and Sam. I had been completely naive to the fact that we were not equals, nor was I getting paid “management” but that he made SUBSTANTIALLY more than me. I gave it some energy for a couple days and vented to my husband, then I let it go. Sam was nice, it’s not his fault. 🚩Maybe he’s just worth more than I am to the company, I told myself. 🚩Maybe he has a past history I didn’t know about that made him more valuable. It definitely should have been my red flag 🚩

My relationship with the Vet was kind of like a daughter and father but 🚩 only on his terms. Fun and playful and lots of “your our boss lady!”. It would also take very odd turns, 🚩 having to do small tasks outside my morals. In the office he would call me “the office manager, the boss, it’s all up to you, hospital administrator!” yet on the phone would call me 🚩 “the front desk person” 🚩“my receptionist” to other veterinarians. It bothered me, a lot, but I pushed it away. 🚩Who am I to be that nit picky over a title? 🚩He probably didn’t mean it or misspoke, I thought.

The tricky part is that I only have little under the radar examples of his abuse. 🚩 The ones you can’t QUITE put your finger on, that you can’t QUITE justify quitting on the spot but make you feel 🚩 worthless. They continued every day. He was incredibly sweet and funny, and then 🚩condescending and cruel. It was a roller coaster to try to please him constantly. It wore on me. I came to work and to deal with it I would make lists on scratch paper. Lists of why I was starting to hate my job. Lists that I would read in the car and cry. If I wasn’t cheerful he’d come in with 🚩“PMSING TODAY?” .... I’d laugh n bite my tongue. 🚩 That’s just being friendly playful right, he knows me well enough to say that to me, we’re like family, right? But every day I felt awful. And I needed my job now, more than ever. 🚩 He knew I needed this job, too. We had just put an offer on a house and surprise! we’re now expecting a baby.

Being pregnant changed things. I couldn’t assist in surgery and xrays like I used to. 🚩He would scoff when I would have to leave for prenatal appointments. 🚩 He would be caring and kind one minute, giving me hand me down baby clothes and gifts, and then cold and dry the next. 🚩Sam could and often would sleep in and no call/no show. He would roll in at noon and jump into surgery, acting like nothing happened, they’d joke together about women in front of me and being hung over. I was 5 min late once because of a traffic jam and had to have a “sit down meeting” about attendance. 🚩 I felt so ASHAMED and EMBARRASSED. 🚩 I had never once, NOT EVER, had work problems, attendance problems, behavioral problems, in my entire history of working. This job was my LIFE. 🚩 Was something seriously wrong with me???

The last straw came when I was 6 months pregnant. He claimed that everyone was having a private “check in meeting”. He told me at mine that 🚩him and Sam talked 🚩 and agreed that I’m not the happy bubbly girl I used to be. I sat with him in the shade of a big oak tree in the grass that has since fallen in a wind storm (ironically. He said I would be getting a $1 raise and that he wanted me to take on MORE responsibility since I could no longer assist in surgery and listed basically anything he could possibly think of to tack on to my job to make up for that $1. 🚩 all I could think was... how???? I was already drowning. I finally got courage this time and said NO. My lip quivered and tears ran down my face with 🚩 stress. I brought up valid arguments but looking back I wish my voice wasnt so timid. Or that I had the courage to call out just one, ONE instance of his inappropriate behavior. But lastly, 🚩 I asked why is my title “FRONT DESK PERSON” when Sam is now “Lead Surgery Operations Director (Who Does No Wrong)??

His response sticks with me to this day. It was painful and degrading and I will never forget it. After working my ass off and building this place from the bottom, the long nights and everything I gave them... I also will never forget his 🚩 smirk . “Well you see, giving you a title like that would be like rewarding a BAD DOG with a BONE” 🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩

🚩I was devastated. 🚩And confused. 🚩I’m a BAD DOG???

I stuck it out for the remainder of my pregnancy, working the 12 hour days up until I went into labor at work. I trained a new girl on every process, excel spread, schedule I had developed and created. I put on a fake smile and wrote my scratch lists and re-read my lists on the way home and cried. I couldn’t just quit. I couldn’t let my family down.

We had our baby and stared at his tiny toes and fingers and cried every single day that I may have to go back to my hell job. I interviewed for different clinics while on leave. I was desperate. The vet was on a sweet streak- 🚩 sending us gifts, having his wife cook us meals and checking in on us all the time. He frequently asked what date I was coming back. He informed me that when I came back I would need to take the later shift and give the new girl my current shift. 🚩She needed it, he said. He said we could discuss the title of “lead receptionist” now and could 🚩 continue to work towards my goal of hospital manager. 🚩 I accepted but I felt sick. 🚩 I felt like I had to go back to work for someone who I couldn’t trust. I felt like he owned me in the worst possible way. (At one time he even tried to tell me I had half of the PTO that I actually had saved up for maternity leave, another 🚩🚩🚩 but I saved my paystubs as PROOF)

Today I work for the clinic that we shared the building with. When they heard I left they immediately offered me a position. The Vet left to purchase his own facility. He acted shocked and surprised and in disbelief that I wasn’t returning. At first it was tough, not gonna lie. We literally ate noodles for a year because I went down to part time. But the bravest thing I ever did was RUN ♥️ I now LOVE my job and they treat their employees wonderfully and equally and have real life morals.

I actually didn’t intend for this to be a novel LOL but even if not a single soul reads this, it’s therapeutic for me to actually get my thoughts down after almost 6 years now. My advice is to ALWAYS trust your gut. TRUST THE 🚩 RED 🚩 FLAGS. Don’t let anyone make you question your character. Never EVER ACCEPT being controlled and manipulated against your morals. Choose the future over time spent in the past (thanks T @taylorswift) and work somewhere that respects you. That pays you FAIRLY. Don’t be afraid to TELL your story too because this has to STOP (I’ve almost deleted this whole thing 13x) If it happened to me I can’t imagine how many other women it happens to. Anyway if you read this then holy shit here’s a hug and CHIN UP YOU ARE WORTHY, YOU ARE NOT A BAD DOG. ♥️

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pacificwanderer · 6 years

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Why are shippers so sure that Ben really knows that Rey cares for him? Of course, we the audience knows this but how does he know that. Like it seems that these people are not thinking about Ben’s perspective in all of this. For all he knows, Rey risk her life to be there for the resistance and not for him.

FUN FUN FUN question, Nonnie!

I mean, there’s a lot to consider and sometimes it’s easy to get kind of caught up in shipping, but we’re working off of an incomplete story at this point, so a lot of it is going to be speculation, though I think you’re right (judging from the movie and the novelization) as I’m not convinced that Ben thinks anyone cares for him at all.

We know that Snoke has been influencing him since he was very young and, though this is speculation, I can imagine Snoke working hard to isolate Ben and make him believe that the only person in the world who has his best interests at heart, or cares about him, is him (abusive people work to isolate their victims from people who care about them). As far as relationships go, I think meeting Rey was the first time in a long time that he found someone who he really connected with, and what did they connect over? Shared loneliness and strange powers that further isolate them from the world at large.

You're so lonely. So afraid to leave. At night, desperate to sleep, you imagine an ocean. I see it...I see the island. And Han Solo. You feel like he's the father you never had. He would have disappointed you.

He’s describing her memories, but he might as well be speaking for himself there and, in retrospect, I think many people will look back on this scene and realize what was happening all along (aside from the Reylos, because obvs they’ve been calling this shit for years).

After they fight over the lightsaber, Ben wakes up and realizes that he’s still alive and thinks the possibility of her caring for him is a weakness (sheesh, where have I heard that before? Eat my entire ass, Snoke.)

Rey had recovered first. She must have realized he was at her mercy, yet she’d left him alive. Well, it was another foolish, sentimental decision.-TLJ novelization, p 259.

What a drama queen lol (runs in the family). Rey knows, because she’s come to understand, that she’s an instrument of the Force. While Ben is still looking for ways to bend the Force to his will, she’s decided to let it instruct her.

Rey had learned that the Force was not her instrument --that, in fact, it was the other way around. Just as Kylo was its instrument, despite his determination to bend it to his will. He would learn that one day, she sensed--the Force wasn’t finished with him... She would wait, and the future would unfold as the Force willed. -TLJ novelization, p 260-261.

Those who seek to bend the Force to their own wills end up learning a nasty lesson. Ben will learn that there are people out there in the galaxy that still care about him and that the future he’s fighting for means continually fighting against the light within himself, which will only end in misery for both him and those around him. Ben coming to understand that he’s loved and how to show that caring and understanding will help him come to terms with who he is and achieve a balance.

Ultimately, she went to him because she wanted to save Ben, even when Luke was telling her that it wasn’t going to go the way she wanted to. She didn’t tell the Resistance or her friends what she was planning. Only Chewie knew. She just cleaned herself up and shot herself over to him in a space coffin to rescue his ass from Snoke. That’s gutsy. Of course, it would help the Resistance if things were dismantled from the inside out (and I think they will be, but in other ways), but I think what she really wanted was to get Ben so, and I quote,

“Kylo had finally decided to join her just as she anticipated. Together they would return to Luke and rebuild the New Jedi Order. They would never have to be alone ever again.”

I mean, obviously things don’t turn out how she thinks they are, but we’ll see how EPIX ends up :) He’ll figure it out, one way or another, and won’t that be fun to watch?

Cheers!

#epix speculation #reylo #ben solo #kylo ren #snoke #abuse mention #asks and answers #anonymous asks #ask pacificwanderer #long post #text #Anonymous

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strangevoyages · 5 years

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Hello! This is probs a dumb question, but what tips would you give for coming up with a plot? I have a good idea of what I want my story to be about thematically and genre-wise, and I have my characters and their arcs and relationships with each other mostly planned out, but… wtf is a plot lol. I keep changing the plot on a fundamental level bc I just can’t decide what I want it to be. What tips would you give in coming up with a plot that ties together stuff like themes and character arcs?

Hi there! Not a dumb question at all, lol, this is probably the #1 reason why I abandon my own projects!

My number one advice for someone struggling to come up with a plot is to look at your characters.

Do you have an idea of who the “main” one is? And their arc and character development? Who you want them to be, grow into, end up as at the end of the story? How are they connected to the conflict of the story, be it one that affects only them and their psyche, one that impacts their social circle and family, or one that changes the entire world?

If you know who your characters are, how they relate to each other, and who you want them to be by the end of things, the next step is deciding what conflict they’ll be embroiled in for the good part of the novel. This is your main plot!

A conflict does not have to be external or epic, but it does have to be something that 1) has stakes and risks for the main character (and therefore the readers) and 2) is something that the main character can’t just walk away from.

(Your idea of what themes you want to be in your story is going to be very helpful here!)

Let’s trace the development of The Lord of the Rings backwards to illustrate this.

So, Tolkien has an idea of what he wants to write about: themes about World War II, specifically the effects of war and violence, and how conflict encroaches even on the innocent and the utopic. He has his main character, Frodo, and his relationship to his friend Sam. He knows Frodo starts off as an innocent and calm person, and he knows he wants Frodo to end as a hardened hero who’s nevertheless haunted by the things he saw and experienced during war. (A parallel of how Tolkien himself felt after returning from WWII.)

So how does he get Frodo from Point A to Point B?

He comes up with a conflict that Frodo can’t walk away from. Okay, so Middle-Earth is about to be plunged into war because this evil entity (Sauron) wants to destroy it all. Okay, that’s pretty important and high-stakes, but how does Frodo get involved? Well, there’s this weapon that Sauron needs in order to ultimately accomplish his war/destruction: the Ring. And the Ring ends up in Frodo’s hands because of his uncle, Bilbo, who Frodo is very close to. This is the thing that thrusts him into the heart of all this violence and politicking, and he can’t just walk away from the conflict (because it involves the fate of the world) or just give the Ring to someone else because X, Y, Z. (Often, the reason why a character can’t walk away from something is because they’re the only one who can do it. Which is awesome!) And thus he proceeds along the track to get him to point B (becoming the hardened hero he’s going to be) and how he meets all of these characters and how his story affects all of their stories, and vice-versa.

Does that make sense? At the end of things, your story need only boil down to:

The characters

The opening shot (where the characters are at the beginning (internally and externally) and what life looks like for them)

The conflict (internal or external; their goals and what’s preventing them from achieving those goals)

The call to action (the thing that prevents them from walking away from the conflict or just living the life they lived at the beginning of the story)

The destination or ending shot (the resolution of the conflict and where that leaves your characters and themes: what things look like at the end)

Once you’ve decided all of these factors (particularly the middle one), a plot will fall into place. (Changing the plot several times is normal, by the way, and I do that with every single one of my stories multiple times.) But if you already have an idea of who your characters and how they relate to each other are, you’ve already fought half the battle! Now it’s just a matter of coming up with something that draws them all together (or apart).

Another way of looking at “conflict” is looking at your main character’s goal. What do they aspire to or what do they want, and why is it important? The journey to get to the goal is the plot of your story, and everything standing against that goal is the conflict.

So, say your OC is an embittered Elf who’s struggling with the trauma of losing their family to hunters. What’s their goal? Is it to exact revenge or start a new life and move on? Find a way to bring their family back or drown their sorrows in alcohol? And what gets in the way of this?

If you can answer those questions, that’s the beginnings of your plot! Do that for every character you consider to be important and “main” to your story, and eventually they’ll all be strung together into a functioning narrative (how they meet, how they affect each other and the striving towards the main “goal”, and how that striving affects them).

If you’re still having trouble, I like Janice Hardy’s way of looking at it or this template on writing plot. I hope this helps you, and good luck!

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hellyeahomeland · 6 years

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How about explaining all of the episode’s titles? Would you? Maybe one a day/week.

“Ok, here we go. This is only from memory and if any of this is wrong or contains typos please don’t @ me I didn’t edit!

Season one:

“Pilot: twas the pilot!

“Grace”: Brody prays at the end

“Clean Skin”: I think this is because Nazir lets Brody take a bath

“Semper I”: it’s a play on “Semper Fi” which is short for “Semper Fidelis” which is a Marine motto which means “always faithful”

“Blind Spot”: Carrie thinks Brody uses the blind spot in the safe house to slip Hamid the razor blade plus her growing attraction for him is kind of her blind spot!!

“The Good Soldier”: almost undoubtedly a reference to a novel about a love triangle between a woman and two soldiers

“The Weekend”: because it’s THE weekend, duh

“Achilles Heel”: Saul’s Achilles heel is that he always answers when work calls, Tom Walker’s is that he loves his wife and kids… Carrie’s is literally every aspect of her existence

“Crossfire”: Issa gets stuck in the crossfire

“Representative Brody”: it’s the episode where Brody decides to run for Congress lol

“The Vest”: Brody tries on a vest!

“Marine One”: *FORGET ABOUT BEFORE, THIS IS NOW. I SAW THEM! WHO? BRODY… THEY HUSTLED IT RIGHT THROUGH THE METAL DIRECTORS ALONG WITH THE VICE PRESIDENT. DO YOU EVEN REALIZE WHAT YOU’RE SAYING. YES. HE’S PLANNING ON TAKING THEM ALL OUT. THAT IS WHAT’S COMING. WE’VE BEEN HEARING CHATTER FOR DAYS NOW, MARINE ONE, MARINE TWO. IT’S NOT THE PRESIDENT’S HELICOPTER. IT’S ACTUAL MARINES. BRODY. AND WALKER. THEY ARE MARINE ONE AND MARINE TWO THEY’RE WORKING TOGETHER THEY MUST BE. **transcribed verbatim from memory

Season two:

“The Smile”: CARRIE FUCKING SMILES FOR FUCKING ONCE

“Beirut Is Back”: I could have sworn that there was a tourism campaign for the city of Beirut and this was the slogan but now I can find no evidence of that online

“State of Independence”: idk if this is a reference to the Donna Summers song or just a reference to Carrie being on her own again

“New Car Smell”: Brody gets a car wash to get rid of the odor of tobacco and murder

“Q&A”: Carrie asks some questions

“A Gettysburg Address”: play on words with Abraham Lincoln’s speech and the fact that Quinn & Co. literally go to a physical address in Gettysburg

“The Clearing”: I think this has multiple meanings: Carrie meets Brody in the clearing in the woods, Dana clears her conscience, Brody attempts to clear his

“I’ll Fly Away”: a reference to the 90s TV show that Henry Bromell (and, hi! Barbara Hall!) both wrote on but a more literal reference to Brody being whisked away on a helicopter at the end (lmao s2 is wild)

“Two Hats”: so many people wearing hats in this episode!!

“Broken Hearts”: lulz Walden’s breaks at the end

“In Memoriam”: because Nazir dies (fact: this episode was originally titled “The Motherfucker in the Turban” but was changed last minute, thank god)

“The Choice”: Carrie must choose between red and white wine JUST KIDDING IS ANYONE STILL READING THIS???

Season three:

“Tin Man Is Down”: someone says this during the weird Wizard of Oz op

“Uh… Oh… Aw”: phonetically it sounds like “fuck… you… saul” if you were drugged out on thorazine

“Tower of David”: Brody’s residence

“Game On”: because it’s when Carrie and Saul’s spy-came-in-from-the-cold operation is revealed

“The Yoga Play”: it’s Carrie’s very unoriginal name for an espionage scheme in which a lady with blonde hair attends a yoga class in her place

“Still Positive”: Carrie takes a 47th pregnancy test and is still positive #scarredforlife

“Gerontion”: ugh this is a poem I don’t know more go find Jacob Clifton’s TWoP recap

“A Red Wheelbarrow”: Carrie texts this to the Franklin man, it’s like spy code for “i’m the one answering this not some other dude”

“One Last Thing”: Saul to Brody: “you will do this one last thing” (literally though!)

“Good Night”: more spy code. I think it means “we’re fucked!”?

“Big Man in Tehran”: Brody becomes one of these when he denounces America for terrorism! (but only for show!)

“The Star”: probs dual meaning and allusion to the literal star Carrie draws and Damian Lewis’ stature on the show

Season four:

“The Drone Queen”: we stan one!

“Trylon and Perisphere”: a reference to the two structures at the World’s Fair and I can’t remember where I read this but I think it’s a reference to Quinn and the Landlady which is 100% horrific and offensive

“Shalwar Kameez”: this is the national dress of Pakistan but beyond that I got nothing

“Iron in the Fire”: Carrie says this about Aayan

“About a Boy”: think this is not a reference to the book/film but rather just to Carrie trying to figure out Aayan’s dealio

“From A to B and Back Again”: possibly a reference to the circular nature of the episode? They go from thinking they’ve got Haqqani to being back at square one by episode’s end

“Redux”: Carrie hallucinates Brody

“Halfway to a Donut”: Duck says this about some pastry. Like 4.06, they think they’ve got Saul and end up back to zero (donut)

“There’s Something Else Going On”: well there was!!

“13 Hours in Islamabad”: reference to the Benghazi attacks, which the episode basically lifts from directly and which also lasted ~13 hours

“Krieg Nicht Lieb”: Carrie meets a German spy woman! This means “war not love” (not perfectly translated), so an ironic take on “love not war”

“Long Time Coming”: Carrie and Quinn finally have sex!!!!!!! (just seeing if anyone is still reading this)

Season five:

“Separation Anxiety”: I think this a meta reference to the time jump and also to Carrie’s anxieties about being out of the CIA but back in that world

“The Tradition of Hospitality”: I believe this is a reference to Carrie + Otto being guests at the UN refugee camp and how… un-hospitably that trip ends

“Super Powers”: Carrie believes she has super powers when she’s off her meds

“Why Is This Night Different”: these words at said at Passover seder, which starts out the episode

“Better Call Saul”: horrifically embarrassing title that is a reference to Carrie calling Saul as well as the Breaking Bad spinoff starring Bob Odenkirk

“Parabiosis”: I honestly don’t know. It’s a scientific term and I haven’t rewatched those middle season five episodes since they aired and also don’t care to!

“Oriole”: this was Carrie’s code name with one of her assets in Iraq

“All About Allison”: this episode centers on our Lord and Savior Allison Carr, Queen of Online Handbag Shopping!

“The Litvinov Ruse”: I think this describes the trick they played on Allison thinking she was blown when she wasn’t

“New Normal”: some military or CIA person says this about ISIS or Russia and Quinn being gassed

“Our Man in Damascus”: this is the title of a book about a man who infiltrates a foreign government at the highest levels so I’m pretty sure it’s a reference to Allison

“A False Glimmer”: lifted straight from Quinn’s letter!

Season six:

“Fair Game”: was surely sad by Keane or Dar or Saul or someone else about something (sorry, haven’t rewatched these episodes either)

“The Man in the Basement”: it’s where Quinn threw that mug at Carrie

“The Covenant”: believe this is a reference to the scene with Saul and his sister and Palestine/Israel

“A Flash of Light”: Etai says* this to Saul: “And the question I keep asking myself is this-- should we [the Jewish people] pack up and leave before it's too late? All eight million of us? Should we go back to the ghettos of Europe and Asia and wait for the next pogrom? Or just pray it doesn't happen here first, in a flash of light?” *not recited from memory

“Casus Belli”: apparently this was the actual name of meat face?? The phrase actually means a justification for war, so...

“The Return”: isn’t the episode where Javadi comes back?

“Imminent Risk”: Carrie is this to Franny and Quinn is this to.... himself?

“alt.truth”: I think this was someone’s sock puppet handle or website name or something? Idk it was about online trolls I think

“Sock Puppets”: Max finds ‘em!

“The Flag House”: the house where meat face lives has a flag out front

“R is for Romeo”: there was an R on the white board at the flag house which I think meant eastern time?? It was spy code I can’t remember!!

“America First”: term that used to mean non-interventionist policy but has been today co-opted by the American right to mean that we gotta put America ahead of all other interests (moral, humane, rational, etc.) because... AMERICA!!! Typically used to justify fascist policies

Season seven:

“Enemy of the State”: Carrie’s power of bun have put her in the crosshairs (is anyone still reading this?)

“Rebel Rebel”: I remember this being a play on words and it’s a verb, not a noun. Said by those gun crazies with Brett O’Keefe.

“Standoff”: Saul and O’Keefe

“Like Bad at Things”: definition for “incompetent.” Said by Carl, who deserves a Best Supporting Actor Emmy

“Active Measures”: term for actions taken by Russia to undermine America

“Species Jump”: another science term to describe the jumping of a pathogen from one host to another... I’m thinking this might be Carrie understanding who Dante really was but it’s a Chip Johannessen title so anything is possible

“Andante”: it’s how Carrie ends the episode! (that is a joke and it is 100% another meaning for the title but it also refers to a moderately slow tempo which is basically this episode’s structure until, y’know, the ending!)

“Lies, Amplifiers, Fucking Twitter”: it’s one half of a haiku Carrie is writing

“Useful Idiot”: see: picture of Carrie in a PowerPoint presentation

“Clarity”: Carrie gets it (kinda)

“All In”: what Carrie must convince Saul she is for the 650th time because Saul remains trash

“Paean to the People”: a reference to Keane’s speech

#painterx92 #ask #hyh ask #by: sara #OH MY GOD I CAN'T BELIEVE I WROTE ALL THAT #i put it under a cut for kindness

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avelera · 6 years

Text

pazithigallifreya replied to your post “I think my fantasy novel needs a magic sword, because fuck you that’s...”

The Flaming Poisoning Raging Sword Of Doom?

LOL, though that would be epic.

Umm, but just to be serious for a second because I actually am trying to question whether or not to keep this element of the story, originally the sword was going to be specifically meant for the protection of the Monarch, and it has features that are kinda like an Avatar State? Basically, you get the skills of previous wielders, but also their scars? And it was going to be how Thea got those awful scars that made her family think she’d been badly abused (the previous wielder was the queen of Antillia and she died from attacks by assassins, but of course it has a lot of ugly looking mortal wounds too from people before her? And getting the marks from those old scars all over her when accepting the knighthood was going to be one reason Thea ran back to our world.)

I still like those features, but I’m beginning to fear it’s Too Much, given that I actually have a more plot-oriented role for the sword now. Basically, I’m now realizing it served a great role as an object needed to resolve the plot. Antillia is a world where the king’s health is tied to the land, BUT it’s all gone tits up because the king is now using that connection to destroy cities and keep the civil war raging.

So what if instead or in addition, the sword has the power to transfer the monarch’s connection to another person, so the monarch alway gives it to a most trusted person, so it’s not just symbolic it’s very real, but not a frequently used power? But he gave it to Thea after she helped him get his throne back (when they were both 14) and it can only have one user at a time and then she left so now it’s been sitting there, useless, and when the king “went bad” and began destroying cities, there was no way to take the connection from him. In theory they could force him to have an heir then kill him, but no one knows if he’s already had a kid (it’s kinda like that with guys, heh). So no one wants to kill him (well, not entirely true, Alma REALLY wants to kill him since she watched those quakes destroy entire cities) because they don’t know if there’s a bastard heir out there, also he’s protected by his side of the civil war of course, and with Thea gone there’s no way to forcibly remove his connection?

But then she comes back. And there’s a new plan by the rebels to launch a covert mission to get Thea closer to him to try to remove that connection, or just to kill him if that’s impossible, because the land is really DYING now and there’s not much time left. Some more extreme people (like Alma) are just willing to take the risk that there’s a bastard out there, or that whatever happens if the king is simply murdered won’t be as bad (such as the island SINKING) as having him alive because NO ONE KNOWS WHAT WILL HAPPEN IF THIS STUPID SPELL GOES AWAY (well, I do, hehehe).

So anyway, that kinda makes Thea’s absence a bigger deal, as well as her return. But I’m not sure if letting it have both powers is overkill now. IDK I just really wanted her to take a level in badass when she gets it back lol but then again, it just being the literal only governmental check or balance on the absolute world destroying power of this monarch is also a pretty big deal. I seriously wonder if I can get away with both and just anime that shit up.

Oh and for the record, the geniuses who came up with this system in the first place were a bunch of King Arthur nerds and that’s why it’s so fucking dumb and medieval, but that’s a story for another day buried in the background of Antillia and how it came to be :3

#pazithigallifreya #maggie's writing progress #MAGIC SWORD #dorothea #sorry to ramble #I'm still trying to figure out how much this sword breaks my plot #HELP ME INTERROGATE MY OWN PREMISE GUYS

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erindarroch · 7 years

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Who says 'I love you' first?

Who says ‘I love you’ first? Well, I guess it was probably Luke? Although I imagine Wedge wasn’t too shy about returning the sentiment…. ;)

Just kidding, dear Anon! I don’t particularly 'ship Luke with anybody at the moment, (and I am pretty sure you were asking about Han and Leia, anyway, right? Hah!) I just needed some way to answer you without answering you, because… I CAN’T MAKE UP MY MIND.

Actually, no. That’s not true. I am pretty sure it was Han. But he’s so…so…

Gah! He’s so disinclined to misty sentimentality or gushing feelings all over the place, it’s REALLY REALLY difficult to write those words coming out of his mouth without making it sound incredibly cheesy and wet. I have attempted it, but whenever I revisit those passages, I cringe a little at seeing The Words on the page.

On the other hand, IRL I think the abject inability to express one’s feelings is indicative of a certain lack of emotional maturity (and I mean that literally, not pejoratively), which I don’t like to ascribe to him by the time we get to Hoth. He’s in his early 30s by that point, and I just don’t like the idea of Han Solo as a perpetual man-child who can’t scrape up the courage to tell the woman he loves how he feels about her, without dicking around or playing mind games.

Still. Those words, from his mouth, are difficult to sell.

I think he definitely has feelings (lots of 'em) about Leia quite early on in their acquaintance, and I also think he becomes more aware of what they are as a consequence of “settling down” for a while with the Rebels. Once he stops flitting around the galaxy and starts living almost in a routine with people who eventually become his friends, I think he begins to reflect a little more than was normally his habit. He becomes more aware of how he feels — about everything, not just Leia — once he stops eschewing attachments (his attachment to Chewie being the exception, of course).

And my headcanon is that he just can’t help himself. He’s a GOOD GUY — although he doesn’t want anybody to notice that or comment on it. He doesn’t even think of himself that way. It’s just that he can’t make himself walk away from people in need, no matter how stridently he bellows that it’s every man for himself, and he only looks out for Number One, and all that nonsense. It’s just bluster. He spouts all of that stuff while simultaneously physically acting to protect others from harm. In the period between ANH and ESB, Han’s actions are always truer than his words.

So he shows his growing love for Leia in myriad ways, starting from a few months ABY and culminating in his decision to risk his life (and Chewie’s!!) to return to the Command Centre on Echo Base, grab her by the arm and then hustle her to safety. And Leia knows how he feels. He doesn’t have to say the words. She doesn’t have to say them, either. By the time we get to Hoth, they’re both well aware that they’re in love with each other, and they’ve already come perilously, deliciously close to spilling the beans and consummating the relationship…. but then Ord Mantell happens and their whole relationship undergoes a big setback as a consequence of what they experienced there. Uncertainty creeps in, along with a desire (possessed by each of them) to press the other into being the first to admit everything aloud, to lay it all on the line. And there we find them at the beginning of ESB. Stubbornly, stupidly about to break it off without confessing the truths they hold in their hearts.

The thing is, Leia’s done. She’s furious about it, and deeply hurt, but she’s D-O-N-E jacking around with Han Solo. She’s actually TRULY ready to let him go. She has decided she’ll cry about it later, when she’s alone in her quarters, and then she’s going to draw a line under it and get on with her life, because FUCK him and his apparent inability to commit to anything or anyone….

Han isn’t quite done, though. Despite having announced his imminent departure, he cannot help himself when it comes to Leia. Right up until the eve of his departure, he’s still needling her and trying to provoke her into being REAL with him. I don’t think he’s playing games… I don’t think he wants her to try to talk him out of going, because no matter what, he MUST go… But I do think he’s trying to provoke her into giving him a reason to come back (provided he survives his next meeting with Jabba). Otherwise, if she doesn’t want him, he may as well go elsewhere, do other work, for better pay, with less risk of Imperial entanglements, right? So his goading of her is partly a sort of plea: tell me you love me, Sweetheart, and you want me to come back. And I will.

The issue (for Han) is risk. He’s a survivor. Sure, he’s a gifted pilot and a crack shot with a blaster, but what he *really* does best is survive. He’s clever and resourceful, and he knows how to keep himself alive. It’s just that his primitive brain yammers at him that going all-in with Leia Organa will be the end of him in some way. And that is true, from a certain point of view. If he pledges himself to her, what’s left of his old life ends and a new one begins, and he doesn’t know what that looks like, or how it will work out. On some level, deep in his heart, he knows that his love for her is powerful enough to shred him, if it all goes wrong. So, it’s scary. And it takes him a while to work up to it.

But finally, quite early on in the trip to Bespin, there’s just nowhere left to hide. They’re stuck on the MF for “a few months” (the only bit of Disney canon I am willing to embrace lol), and Chewie most definitely is NOT going to get in their way. He’s had it up to his furry eyebrows with their ridiculous courtship, and just wants them to get on with it already.

So… they have to talk. And that’s when it happens.

If you want to know more, you’ll just have to wait until @jhgraham and I finish writing it, because at this point, I don’t even know. Hopefully, it won’t be drippy and awful.

Thanks for your question, Anon. I apologise again for writing a novel-length reply. My powers of procrastination know no bounds.

#jhgraham #trip to bespin #i love you i know #this is what i do when I should be working

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