#first read either Doctor Who or Ashes to Ashes

[partywithponies]

Fanfic writers reblog this and say in the tags which fandom you first read fic for, and which h you first wrote for.

[cerastes]

What's your take on MumuDoc in Lonetrail?

Muelsyse in Lone Trail felt, in many ways, like seeing someone diving in a pool, and at first, you're not alarmed. They know how to swim. You don't really think much of it. But then a minute passes, and they are still underwater. Concern sinks in, and you make your way to the pool, and as you're about to jump in, their head surfaces, they are back up. They cough, they tough it out, and are a bit nervous about diving again, but you're going in the pool with them now, and they feel more at ease.

Take this, intensify it a hundredfold, stretch it a hundredfold, and scrutinize it a hundredfold, and you end up with Muelsyse, in her barest form, like a diamond born from a chunk of charcoal that had too much pressure put on it.

I can see Muelsyse's dynamic with Doctor being romantic. I can see Muelsyse's dynamic with Doctor not being romantic. Both are fine interpretations, if you ask me, I mean, her theme song is very much a love song, and at the same time, she feels desperate to find anyone who can just... Empathize in even the slightest of ways to her. Either read is fine, outright discounting either feels a tad disingenuous.

Alienation. Complete and utter alienation, an edge sharper and more injurious than isolation. This is, if you ask me, the main theme surrounding the Rhine Lab arc and cast.

Saria is alienated. She cannot find common ground with anyone else around her for the longest time. She used to have a shared dream with Kristen, but that bridge has burned and frozen and turned to ash all over. Kristen is alienated. She simply cannot see a point to anything except that obsessive doggedly persistent dream of hers, and it has been weighted more important than her humanity. Joyce is alienated. Forever a partial prisoner in her own head, there are few and far between that will ever put up with the unique intricacies of having to deal with someone that talks like her, has sudden Oripathy attacks like her, and falls asleep on the spot seemingly at random like her, fully cognizant of how high maintenance she can be on others. Ho'olheyak is alienated. On borrowed time, without kin or friend to call her own, living for a transcending mission far bigger than her and so, so small in the overarching beats of a world that can't be bothered to stop for her. Silence. Ifrit. Dorothy. Tin Man. I could go on. Alienated, all of them. Not isolated, because isolation would imply the lack of physical company. This is far colder, far darker. It's alienation. It's seeing the other side of the cliff, and no possibility of a bridge to connect it to your end of the cliff. Isolation stings, it's a pain you know is there. Alienation drowns, because you can see the surface, but you are convinced you'll never make it there, and it's a hundredfold worse.

Muelsyse is no different. Muelsyse is alienated, and goodness she has tried and tried and tried, she swims so, so hard to reach the surface, but she can't reach it. Being in Rhine Labs necessarily means you need to resort to some cutthroat cloak and dagger, it becomes routine, all for an ultimate goal, but is that ultimate goal even possible? With every step taken by Muelsyse, it seems two new steps materialized at the end of the staircase. Everyone she's met, for years now, has either been someone looking to use her, or someone she can use for her own advantage. Usually simultaneously. And it's in this context, when the 9 to 5 becomes tricking, blackmailing, snuffing and silencing that by chance, she comes across someone, possibly the sole person, that can actually understand the sheer weight on her shoulders: Doctor, someone who doesn't own their own past, but is shackled by it, someone who has no one to relate to, someone surrounded by sufficiently similar but ultimately infinitely different people to themselves, someone who by all means should be drowning in the same pool as her, but somehow, this person reached the surface. It's very easy to see why she'd become so utterly fascinated by this person, who shares many similarities with her, and yet, who seemingly has it so good, has it so sweet. It could have easily been jealousy, but end of the day, Muelsyse IS a sweet person. Yeah, she plays it up, always so cheerful and whimsical, but end of the day, Muelsyse is playing up something that is already there in the first place. Instead of jealousy, it brought her happiness, because maybe, just maybe, she could enjoy a bit of that je ne sais quoi that Doctor seems to have in spades and she is completely bankrupt of.

The first interactions between Muelsyse and Doctor are telling of this overwhelming rush of emotion: Muelsyse less talks with Doctor and more talks at them. She vomits words, emotion, whimsy, as if trying to put these emotions into words and actions after so long, emotions that was ready to never need to put into words in the first place. It eventually becomes a dialogue between two parties, but Muelsyse's interactions with Doctor are initially extremely one-sided, and they remain one-sided to some degree even moving forward. It was heartwrenching to me, honestly, to see the sheer joy Muelsyse radiated while around Doctor, because that is an almost manic amount of joy simply from possibly finding someone that gets it. Muelsyse has not had a bridge in so, so long, and suddenly, the finds someone that not only resembles her a lot, but also seems to have bridges in spades. Muelsyse and Doctor's dynamic should never be considered in a vacuum just between the two of them: One of the first things Muelsyse saw with her own eyes was that Doctor had a pretty friendly relationship, mutual respect included, with Saria. That, is immediately very telling of Doctor, given that Muelsyse understands exactly how difficult that is. We also know Muelsyse sneaks around Rhodes Island and chats with Ifrit now and then, and Ifrit also expressly has a very high opinion of Doctor. It simply makes sense that Muelsyse would feel as enthusiastic about her Dorothy's Vision brush with Doc, and all that Lone Trail entailed: It's terribly sad, because they don't even know each other, and even then, it's the shiniest ray of hope for herself that Muelsyse has had the chance to bask in: Doctor's essence, Doctor's existence, in and of itself, is a massive beacon of hope for Muelsyse.

And it's so damn sad, that this perfect stranger is the most familiar comrade she'll ever find.

Is this romantic love? Hell, the molotov cocktail of emotions involved might as well be, either now or in potentially in the future. Is it something unhealthily dependent? Yeah... Yeah. It might just be the euphoria of knowing that she can reach the surface, after all, that bridges, too, are possible for her to have, with not underlying motive, with no ulterior motive, without needing to offer something or to extract something. To put in the most basic of terms, Doctor, to Muelsyse, might as well represent the very first person in who knows how long that she can relate to at all. It is an immensely sad emotional starvation, and she finally found something to sink her teeth onto.

This is personal, but the way Muelsyse struck me, it felt to me that when she had even the barest of handles on Doctor, she related to someone for the first time in forever, and it shook her to her very core. It may have been the first time she saw, in someone else, a potentially happy Muelsyse.

It's extremely bittersweet. If you've ever dealt with alienation, think back on the first time you found someone who truly "got you". Add to that the fact that her routine of interacting with people had become to see others as tools, and to always be on the lookout for those wishing to use and expend you as a tool. Then, add to that that there are definitely more Elves, but Muelsyse is so fundamentally different to them that the sheer differences in temperament and culture make it so it's impossible for her to relate to them anyway. What could be lonelier than that? It's called Lone Trail for a reason, because alienation is a main theme for all of these people.

In finding the sole person that could possibly relate to her in circumstance and temperament, it's easy to see where Muelsyse's interest in Doctor comes from. Whether you interpret it as romantic or otherwise, it can't be denied that this immensely strong interest exists. It comes from finally seeing a way to reach the surface after the world told her for decades that she simply could only drown. Because Doctor is the only other person that could understand her in being the last of their race and in having no past and maybe even no future, and yet, Doctor having so many bridges, while she has none. I think Muelsyse craves companionship, not necessarily romantic, from Doctor, and, this is important, also wants to have what they have, and be part of it, of so many bridges built without ulterior motives.

[mayullla]

Title: La Signora's little follower(?)

Character(s): All the harbingers except Scaramouche (Genshin Impact) Pierro, Columbina, Pulcinella, Pantalone, Tartaglia (Childe), Dottore, Capitano, Sandrone, Arlecchino

Summary: The harbingers stand before the Fair Lady, La Signora casket. They didn't think a small visitor would arrive, adored by the woman who turned to ashes.

Note: This might/will become ooc later in the future or the very next day I post this but who knows and who cares! Writing this all I have is the vid "A Winter Night's Lazzo", Childe's voice lines about them and leaks so please be understanding later if it does happen.

Warnings/tags: Gn!reader (if by chance she/her is used for reader tell me I will edit it as soon as possible!), child!reader, slight soft yandere vibes from Childe (or protective vibes either one), implied cult au, Genshin leaks

Another note for tags: Isekai (implied), God!reader but child, like sagau cult kind of thing but never really mentioned till later, an au in one of my series called 'the child with gold blood' (which you don't have to read to understand this.)

...It was a surprise really, who would expect that when the butterfly that belonged to La Signora would erupt into a huge flame covering most of the casket that many of the harbingers had to take a step back.

They were about to put it out... what was what they planned to till they noticed something or someone inside those flames. There was a slight panic in the voices of the harbingers, as they got their weapons ready, yet it was Capitano who told them to stop and wait, curious as to what the Fair Lady could have gifted them after her death.

Just as soon the flames came to the world it died down living nothing but ashes and body…?

It was a small body as if it belonged to a child. Still alive, when they saw the small movements it made, still breathing. Columbia was the first to comment on it, how adorable you but at the same time in wonder who you were.

"Why is a small child here?" Sandrone asked in surprise, as the robot moved her closer to the casket, towards you. "Did Signora bring this child here?" She continued to ask.

"Interesting there is not a single lick of flame scorched that child." Dottore also walked close to the casket, everybody could see the sick interest that danced in his eyes, the calculated planning.

Yet when Dottore tried to reach for the small child a flame erupted covering you away from the man's hand at the sudden heat he hissed in pain taking a step back away from you. Sandrone's robot also took a step back shielding the surprised girl from the screams of fire.

Only a few moments went by till Pantalone spoke teasing Dottore, stating that either it was Signora's huge distrust towards him or the perverted malice that the doctor had shown. Dottore could only glare at the other man, stating that he keep his mouth shut.

"But that still leaves the question, who is this child? There were no reports that La Signora had a child nor is she the type to adopt one." Arlecchino stated as she watched the flames die down once again when Dottore was far enough away from the child. There in her eyes was interest but there was also a hidden pity in them.

It was Capitano and Pierro who noticed the 11th harbinger quiet as he only stared at the child on the casket of the Lady not saying anything yet holding familiarity towards the sleeping body.

"Tartaglia do you have something to say?" Pierro asked, staring as the young man whose eyes widen in surprise for being called suddenly... as if caught in the act.

Tartaglia called away from his thoughts, looked at the Jester. His face looked conflicted as he walked over to the child.

"This kid followed Signora around. I meet them at Liyue after Signora got the Gnosis from the Geo archon." He tried to explain. "So La Signora really did adopt a child?" The husky voice belonged to Capitano.

Tartaglia shook his head. "No Signora found the kid to be more annoying than anything. She tried to shoo away this kid multiple times but the kid kept on coming back."

"I am surprised, you would think not many children would like the lady because of her rather strong... personality." Pantalone raised an eyebrow when he watched Childe cautiously take the kid into his arms. The little kid didn't have any thick clothes instead wore something more for spring.

The poor thing was shivering as the 11th harbinger wrapped his red scarf around their neck.

"I also thought she didn't like kids well till I received a letter from her a few days after her death," Tartaglia grumbled moving the child a bit so he could also cover the child's body with his coat. "One of her trusted subordinates gave me a letter asking me to take care of this kid in case she ever dies. I didn't think she would have ever written something like that because of her pride but she did."

"Hmmm, then why did the child appear here like this then? La signora died a few days ago, why isn't the kid with you?" Dottore was unamused, annoyed even as he looked at his slightly scorched gloves, burned by the fire when he reached for you.

"You aren't gonna say that you would take care of the child, are you? Give them to me and I will bring them to the orphanage." Arachhino said, raising her hand as if asking Childe to hand the kid to her.

"Sorry but no. I will be taking care of this kid." There was no humor in Tartaglia's voice, moving as if to shield the child from Arlecchino. He was never fond of her to be fair. "The kid disappeared soon after Signora's death both my subordinates and Signora's all tried to search for this kid along with some others but we weren't able to find them."

"Tartaglia, who are these others that you mentioned?" Pantalone asked, staring at the hump on Childe's jacket.

Suddenly the members all heard a groan, small and childish they knew that the child had woken up. Childe watched you try to shift your position yet unable to do so, you slowly opened your eyes. Staring at him yet showed no recognition.

"Hey, kid woke up?" Childe said his tone was almost soft. As he watches you shift again to an almost sitting position in his arms where your head poked out from the fur collar of his coat as you rubbed your eyes.

"Who are you?" You grumbled, you didn't see the other people in the room all watching you yet you could hear one or maybe two people giggling or chuckling at you as you squinted at Childe's face.

"Ah aren't you that mister!" You paused surprised, Childe raised a brow when he saw you stopped, as you struggle to remember him. "How cruel, child. You forgot about me." You laughed when he booped your nose with his gloved hand. "Isn't mister teammates with Signora?" You tilted your head.

"Yes… Something like that…" It wasn't Childe who said that, but another voice. Looking to your side you saw other people, all wearing a similar outfits to Childe. The man who said it wore a mask as he looked at you with a frown on his mouth.

"You shouldn't be so mean to the child." Another voice said but you didn't look to see who it was as you stared at the man who showed clear discomfort. 

"Mister must be Dottore?" You tilted your head, your face curious as you lean to get a closer look at him. "Hmmm, didn't know La Signora would talk about me." There was sarcasm, you didn't see the glare on Childe's face as he tighten his hold around you. You blinked as if not catching the sarcasm at all

"Signora told me that you are mean and bad. But mister looks nice."

"Eh-?" "Huh?" Disbelief but giggles also spread in the room at what you said, Dottore looked at you as if you have lost your mind but you meant what you said yet it was hidden behind his mask.

"They are such a cute child." Childe looked down surprised when he saw a small lady standing right beside him. You looked at the girl tilting your head as you saw her pretty black hair with pink streaks. "Hello dear~ do you perhaps know my name?" She asked curiously.

You looked at her mask, her outfit, the small pretty wings on her hair. Signora had told you about three ladies in her team, one of them she told you had almost a fairy-like appearance. "Columbina?" You looked at her closely. "You are so pretty!"

"You really are such a cutie." Columbina laughed. Quickly she pointed at two girls in the room. "Can you guess what their names are?"

You looked at the lady standing with one hand on her hips, white hair and eyes that had a red x on them. "Umm… Arlecchino..?" You looked hesitant, you looked at the lady who sat in the hand of the robot your eyes glittered at the thing but you quickly shook your head to focus. "Uhh… Signora told me about someone who makes those big robots! Uhh.. Sa-Sandrone?"

"You are a very smart child~" she giggled, she tried to take you into her arms when Childe took a step back keeping you away from her hands, protective and guarding.

"Hmmm interesting, I didn't think that La signora would grow attached to someone this much that she would tell you about us." You looked at a man, smiling at you with his hand on his chin thinking. "Greeting young one, my name is Pantalone. I guess that the Fair Lady has talked about me?"

Your eyes lighten a bit. "Un! She told me that you are the richest man in teyvat!" You flayed your hands as if to show how rich he was. Pantalone chuckled.

"How did you meet La Signora child?" You looked at a short man looking at you, his face soft towards you compared to others. "Mister Pulcinella?" you asked.

"Why yes. That is correct. Did Signora talk about me too?" There was a warm smile on his face, "Nope!" You sang as you looked at the man who was holding you "He was the one who told me about you!"

"H-hey" Childe looked flustered at what you have done all the while Pulcinella looked a little contemplated.

"You haven't answered his question."

A gruff voice asked, it would have made anybody intimidated yet maybe because you were so young that you were so influenced by it glancing at the man who spoke you asked Childe to place you down.

Hesitant, he did and let you go as you trotted to the man who spoke. The man had a mask on... helmet? even with the light, you could not see the man's face hidden in the darkness. "I meet Signora at in Monstade, Mister Captain sir! I was lost back then and could not find a way home and she found me." You told the man. "She saved me when I was running away from a hilichurl that was chasing after me. After that, I start to follow her hehe!"

"She let you in?" The man asked but you shook your head, looking down almost ashamed, "Signora didn't like me at first…" you explained, it was so cute when you looked at the red scarf around your neck in interest. "But later when we are in Liyue she took me in. She didn't tell me much but she started to take care of me a lot!" You looked at the masked man. "Signora showed me many things! Many pretty things! Things that I have never seen before!"

"But why didn't you go back home instead child?" He asked, you looked at him as the light in your eyes dull a little.

"That is because I was told I can't go back..."

It wasn't a straight answer, an answer that explained yet left so many questions for a child to say with a lonely smile on their face.

"Then child, are you not sad that La signora passed away." Another voice asked another deep and powerful voice that was quiet this whole time ever since you opened your eyes. Everyone looked at him, and you also looked at the old man who spoke. "Signora told me that there was a man in her team that wore a mask on one eye that is the leader of the team! You must be Mister Pierro!" 

"You are correct, child. Now tell me why are you not sad that she passed away? As you stand on her tomb right now." His words were harsh, commanding. It was as if he wanted to test you, see what your reaction would be.

Yet instead of tears, you looked at the man straight in his eyes your smile gone. You didn't see how close Childe was to grabbing you into his arms again yet could not. The 11th harbinger was stopped when Pierro glared at him, silencing him from making a dumb decision in front of him.

Instead, you stand in the middle of the group all staring down at you, waiting for your answer.

It was odd.. it was unnatural really for a child to do so. The smile that graced your small face, wasn't that naive and childish like but something softer yet knowing, kind and loving yet with grief.

It didn't match your age, not at all and it made everyone only cautious instead of feeling pity.

"La Signora isn't dead, she is only sleeping."

It was as if time stopped for a moment at your answer, nobody was sure what to say yet before someone could say something the big door that where once closed suddenly slammed open as one of the fatui, one of low-rank suddenly burst in.

"I apologize for interrupting the meeting! But this is an emergency!!" The fatui member almost shouted, his voice rattled and panicked. 

"It must be important that you would rudely barge in like this." There was annoyance in Pantalone's voice as he placed his hands together. His face was smiling yet everybody could see his anger.

"The archons- No the nations Monstade, Liyue and Inazuma are going on a rampage!!" 

What?

"And what do you mean by that?" Pulcina asked. 

"They are attacking all the fatui members that are stationed there demanding we give back what is theirs!" The fatui member stuttered out.

"What are they looking for exactly?" Pulcinella asked tiredly, it wasn't like they were after the gnosis. The Anemo Archon is too weak to cause this much of a reaction, the Electro archon didn't care for it, while the Geo Archon made a deal with them for the Gnosis. He wasn't one who would turn back on a contract.

"They are looking for a small child!"

The members all looked at you, standing in front of Pierro yet instead of you standing on the floor you were in Childe's arms holding you tightly almost like a mother protecting her child. 

Who… are you?

Edit/Update: Edited again after a year TvT Thank you so much for all the love that has been shown to this fic but I will not be making a part 2 or a continuation to this little story unfortunately. It has been a long time now and while I did try to think out some stuff nothing really clicked, and that motivation just kind of died too at some point. If you want more platonic yandere stuff I do have more stories for that which you can find on the masterlist just not this particular one. Thank you again for understanding ^^

[127tyong]

Be There For You

Pairing: Jaemin X Reader

Genre: Smut, PWP (let's be real for a second... just the 1st P) Doctor Jaemin, Public(ish), Good Ending (an ai good ending.) (i know nothing about medicine this is all fiction)

Warnings: Mind break (honestly, not that bad imo)

Word Count: 2k

“Come on, I know you need the money! Just think about it!” Your friend slammed the stack of papers in front of you as you sat at the dining table. “It’s just an experiment, how bad could it be?”

“That’s the problem! Those things are always too good to be true.” You looked at the first page, reading “Sleep Clinical Trial 6.4”. “Like, what if they do something weird to me?”

“They won’t! They’re a legit pharmaceutical company! They give you medication, you sleep for a bit, and then you get like, 500 dollars! It’s not that big of a deal.” She sighed, her hands on her hips. “I did the 6.2 experiment, trust me, I know these guys!”

“Ugh…” You groaned. “Is this a pyramid scheme or something? Why are you vouching so hard for them?”

“Listen, I don’t wanna be that person, but you haven’t paid rent in 2 months. I love you, but I can’t let you keep eating and sleeping here for free. If you’re not gonna get a job, you can either do this, or get out.”

You sighed. “I’ll go. I don’t promise anything, but I’ll at least hear them out.” ~ The next day, you made your way into the trial clinic on the address your friend gave you.

“Hello! How can I help you?” The receptionist, wearing a “Jeno” name tag, asked you.

“Um, hi, I’m here to participate in the sleep clinical trial.” You told him, already nervous and fidgeting.

“Oh, dear…” He clicked his tongue. “Honey, that was yesterday…”

“Fuck! I’m sorry…” You nearly bolted out the door.

“Wait! Miss!” Another man called after you. “If you’re willing to, I’m testing something else out right now, I’ll pay you $2000!”

You spun around. “What is it?” 

He handed you a clipboard, with some papers attached. “Let me take you into my office.”

He dragged you into his office, the grandeur of it shocking you. Rows of bookshelves, giant velvet seats, and an oak wood desk that sat in the middle of the room, a leather chair in front of it. You focused your attention back to the doctor, who was wearing a suit with a lab coat over it, his hair an ash blue color, his glasses resting down his nose. 

“Let me introduce myself, I’m Na Jaemin, MD. I’m testing a medicine right now, it’s a female hormone regulator.” You shook his hand as you sat on the leather seat, him sitting across from you. You flipped through the papers. “What do I have to do for this, exactly?” 

You read the first page. “Project E 1.0”

The subject will be given a shot containing an unlabelled test medication. 

Effects may vary, but it will be used to treat PCOS and other hormone irregularities.

“You just have to take a shot, and I’ll do the rest. I’ll take your blood work, weight, physical changes… It’s supposed to be all good… hair growth, regulates your cholesterol, and makes your breasts bigger.”

“What are the possible side effects?” You asked.

“Hormones can cause a large amount of side effects, like birth control. Although, I must warn you that you are the first person to be administered this drug, which is why the pay is so good. There may be side effects we are unaware of.”

“...So basically you have no idea.” You rolled your eyes.

“Yes, but I’ll be here for you the whole time.”

You nodded. "I'll do it." After all, it seemed more good than bad, and $2000…

"You'll be taking a shot every 2 weeks, which I'll administer, then I'll have you report any changes in your mood, body, etcetera. Sign here, and then we can start!" Jaemin pointed to the last page of the stack he’d given you.

You quickly signed your sanity to Na Jaemin, MD.

~

You quickly realized the bad outweighed the good. Sure, your hair was healthier than it had ever been, your skin was glowing, your breasts grew…

But your back hurts from the weight gain and you’ve never been so horny in your life.

You were sweating, your vibrator overheating, and your cunt was drenched from the constant need of relief.

Your phone shined brightly in the dark of your bedroom. 2 weeks had passed. You needed to see your doctor again.

~

You were put together enough to make the average person think you were okay, but Jaemin could see through you, the pained look in your eyes familiar to him after working in the medical field for years. Mini skirt barely hiding the fact your juices were pouring down your legs, wishing you wore jeans, but you didn’t even have the strength to slide a pair up.

"So, I take it that the past two weeks haven't been the best?" Jaemin's pen clicked to the tempo of the clock ticking. 

"No…" You rubbed your thighs together, your sweat sticking to the leather chair. You could practically feel yourself soaking the leather, still so wet, so needy. “I’ve… had a raised libido, I guess.” Your throat was dry, swallowing.

"Have you tried masturbating?" His words filled you with dread, not knowing if he fully understood.

"Everyday… Multiple times everyday. I haven't been able to sleep properly because of it…" You felt sticky, hot. You could practically smell Jaemin, the scent of his cologne, his musk, glancing at the way his hands moved as he wrote, the veins traveling up his arms. You nearly started drooling, noticing he didn’t have a ring on his finger, imagining his fingers inside you. You shook your head, knowing you couldn’t do this to yourself.

Jaemin kissed his teeth, the pop echoing in your ears. "Is a partner not an option?"

"No, I'm single… Can I go to the bathroom?" You were throbbing, practically able to feel the blood rushing to your clit, your panties rubbing against it too much to handle. You nearly toppled over as you stood up, dizzy, your legs too weak from needing to cum more than anything.

Jaemin stood up then helped you stand up. "Are you okay?" His arm on your waist, the scent of his cologne overwhelming you.

"Is… too much." You whimpered. "Need to cum right now."

Jaemin rushed you into a sterile, brightly lit patient room. He started laying you down onto the small, leather bed covered in a disposable sheet, then shutting and locking the door. "How long has this been going on?"

Tears ran down your face. "Since I took it…"

"Why hasn't it worn off?" He grumbled to himself, pacing around the room. "It's been 2 weeks, it should be out of your system…"

"It hurts…" You cried out.

"Oh, right… Fuck, you should've called me when it started! What should I do?" He touched your cheek, wiping your tears away, the chill of his hand shocking you.

"Make me cum." You cried out, your body burning up. "Doctor, make me cum…"

As he thought to himself, Jaemin thought about how he couldn't fuck a patient, how he was a professional, how he could probably give you a pain medication to make it stop. But then seeing you in agony made him reconsider the fact that he was the one who did this to you, that he was responsible… Then he realized how hard he was from listening to your cries and how much he wanted to help you cum.

Jaemin spread your legs open, sliding your panties off as they stuck to your cunt, soaked. "So wet, cute…" He muttered to himself. His hands grabbed your thighs, squeezing onto them to stabilize himself as he bent down to eat you out.

Licking up your wetness, Jaemin sucked on your clit, flicking at it with his tongue.

"Cumming!" You cried out, your back arching, hips grinding against Jaemin's tongue.

Your pretty, high pitched whines were enough to make Jaemin risk losing his job. 

As Jaemin pulled away, he licked his lips and swallowed the taste of you. "Do you feel better?"

"A little…" You mumbled, sitting up, still dizzy, but less stressed.

Jaemin lowered the hospital bed using the remote on the end of the bed. "Bend over the bed."

“Doctor-” You stood up.

“Call me Jaemin, please.” Jaemin took your hand, spinning you around, then pressing his hand against your back, bending you over, his hand trailing up to the back of your head, pushing your cheek against the leather cushion. Your hands outstretched in front of you, gripping onto the paper-wrapped pillow.

“Jaemin…” You moaned, your voice only a little louder than a whisper, listening to the sounds of Jaemin removing his belt and unzipping his slacks.

His hand slid cupped your ass, watching you squirm from his touch. His tip rubbing your clit, covered in precum, getting even more wet from you. “I promise I’ll be gentle.” 

“Please, hurry up.” You whimpered, crying into the pillow.

“Of course.” Jaemin plunged straight into you, grabbing onto your hips, pulling you towards him.

You never really got a good look at his cock, but it was safe to say that he was longer, thicker than your dildo, or any man you’ve ever been with before. Your back arched instinctively, not knowing how to handle a cock that big. Jaemin was only inside you for a little while, but you were already close, and after a few thrusts from Jaemin, you were at your limit. “Doctor, please!” You moaned out, biting onto the pillow as you came.

Jaemin didn’t know how to react, but he knew how he wanted to react. He grabbed you by your neck and shoved the rest of his length into you. His hand was pressed against your windpipe, making you unable to properly breathe, forcing you to arch your back so you could breathe properly. Once you did, Jaemin adjusted his hand, squeezing onto the sides of your throat. 

“I told you to call me Jaemin.” He whispered into your ear.

“Sorry…” Jaemin’s pace began to quicken. “Sorry, I’m sorry!”

“You should’ve listened to me.” Jaemin started kissing your neck, nibbling, biting, trying to stop himself from pitifully moaning.

“Jaemin! Jaemin, I’m sorry!” His grip on your neck tightened, cutting off your jugular vein, making you feel euphoric.

“You’re so fucking nasty… It’s so beautiful.” He moaned into your ear while you whimpered, begging Jaemin for mercy.

You knew you were an overstimulated, noisy mess, left at the mercy of Jaemin, an overworked doctor who needed you to take his stress out into your pathetic hole.

Jaemin was certain Jeno could hear everything and prayed he would cover his ass. The way you screamed his name was worth it though. The way you shook when you came, the sweet squelching sounds you made, they were all beautiful.

“I’m gonna cum.” Jaemin bit down on your neck, already having left multiple bruises and bite marks on your pretty neck. Treating you how a dog bites down on his chew toy. Forcefully and mercilessly, like you couldn’t feel a thing.

And you basically couldn’t, afterall, all you could feel was how good Jaemin was fucking you. In that moment, Jaemin could’ve done anything he wanted to you and you would’ve nodded your head and taken it. 

Which is why you didn’t even say anything when your insides were coated with a thick layer of Jaemin’s cum.

Jaemin left you for a few hours, letting you get the sleep you desperately needed.

~

When you woke up, you realized you were no longer in pain. Forcing yourself to get dressed, you made your way over to Jaemin’s office.

“You’re up?” He looked up at you over his glasses.

You nodded, sitting back down at the chair you were sitting in earlier, noticing the wet mark was still there.

“Are you still in pain?” 

You shook your head, rubbing your arms.

“Shall we continue the trial then?” Jaemin stood up, removing his glasses and setting them on his desk.

“But I was in so much pain…” You looked up at Jaemin as he walked over to you. “I think I have a solution to that.” Caressing your cheek and gently kissing your lips.

“Please fuck me again, Jaemin.”

“As my patient wishes.”

[mosylufanfic]

RCWhumptober Day 29

I decided to use an alternate prompt for today, "aftermath of failure." This isn't as whumpy as some of my others, but they're both suffering.

Visiting Hours

For the fourth time in as many hours, Jyn was fighting with a reception droid. "I need to see him. I need to."

"The patient is a level four," the droid said stolidly. "Level four is not permitted non family visitors."

By this time, Jyn was very familiar with the leveling system of the Alliance medical ward. Level one meant you were in for a squirt of bacta gel, maybe an antiviral shot, and back to your quarters. 

As far as she could tell, level five meant death's door. 

A doctor came through one of the doors. They were Mirialan, their facial tattoos faded, the way they got without upkeep. The doctor themself looked as faded as their tattoos, deep purple shadows under their eyes. "What's this racket?" they said. 

"This civilian is insisting on seeing a level four patient. I have stated repeatedly that it is not possible."

"It's possible, you're just being a prick," Jyn fired back. 

"You're Jyn Erso," the doctor said.

She set her jaw. She couldn't read the tone of their voice. Was it contempt? Anger? "I need to see him," she repeated.

"Level fours are permitted fifteen minutes with a family member," the doctor said to the droid. 

"This is not a family member," it said. "The patient has no family listed."

The doctor looked at her searchingly. "Given that, I think we can fudge it." 

The droid made a very annoyed sound, but twisted its body back to face the door, pissily ignoring Jyn.

She tried not to think of another pissy droid. You are continually unexpected. 

The doctor jerked their head at Jyn. "In through here. Decon chamber first."

“When does my fifteen minutes start?” she asked, following them.

"I'll let you know." They hit the button to seal off the decon chamber and Jyn screwed up her face. It was a sonic process, stronger than the sonic showers that she'd used all her life but no different in theory. Still, the enclosed chamber made her teeth itch.

They let her out on the other end and escorted her down a sterile white ward, beds cloaked in plastic on either side. Some of them were from Scarif, she knew.

Not enough of them.

She swallowed hard.

The doctor stopped her in front of the last bed in the row. "Listen," they said quietly. "The only reason, and I mean the only one, that I made this exception is because he's been asking for you."

"He's conscious, then."

"Yes. He won't look so bad. But don't let that fool you. His injuries are primarily internal, and they are severe."

"I know. I was there."

"He has a long way to go before we can downgrade him even to level three. So I wouldn't tell him anything too . . . upsetting."

She gave them a flat look. "What am I supposed to talk about, doctor? The weather?"

They pressed their lips together and unsealed the plastic. "Fifteen minutes starting now," they said. "There's a button on his bedside table. If you need anything, hit it. Someone will respond."

Do you think anyone's out there?

I do. Someone's listening.

At the rustle of plastic, Cassian's eyes turned toward her. He couldn't move any more than that. He was braced six ways to Centaxday, immobile so his shattered bones and his lacerated insides could knit up. Deep shadows like bruises ringed his eyes, and his skin was pallid under the bruises and the stubble. "Jyn," he said hoarsely.

She mustered up a smile, or an approximation of one. "Hi," she said. "Don't you look like shit."

He smiled back. "The plans," he said haltingly. "Nobody - will tell me - "

"Let's not talk about that right now," she said. 

His eyes fastened on her face, and after a moment, he made a noise of assent. "Who - did we - lose?" he asked then.

"Um. A lot," she said. "Seven made it back."

That was it. Seven out of thirty. Twenty-three dead on the blood-soaked sand, their bodies turned to ash by the Death Star's vicious eye.

"I don't know most of their names," she said. "I didn't really have the time." And she hadn't thought she would make it back, so it hadn't seemed important. On this side of things, it felt massively important to know who'd given their life for her last-ditch rogue mission.

"S'okay," he muttered. "I'll hear."

"That one guy, you know the one? From Wobani? I hit him with a shovel."

"Melshi," he said.

"Yeah, that's it. He's somewhere around here." She gave a general sort of wave, indicating the medical wing. "Level two, I think. He got us off the beach. Stole a shuttle, got us back here."

Cassian's eyes widened. "Bodhi?"

She felt her mouth tremble. "Got hit with a grenade or something. It took out our shuttle, that's why Melshi had to steal one. Someone pulled him out. He got back alive, but he's - it's bad. Level five bad. He's been in bacta since we landed. It's all - it's all very touch and go."

He absorbed that. "Baze," he said. "Chirrut?"

"On the surface," she said, and didn't have to say anything more.

It felt wrong that they'd left them there. Jyn didn't know what kind of burial rituals Guardians had, or Jedhans for that matter. She felt sure it hadn't included being vaporized by the blast of a planet killer. 

"They wouldn't - have wanted - to be without - each other," Cassian said. 

She nodded. "And. Well. You know what happened to Kay."

"Backup," he murmured. "Kay always - backup."

It wouldn't do much good without a chassis, and knowing that pissy droid he'd broken his backup into pieces and hidden it through seventeen databases just to make trouble for them. But it made her smile a little. "Well, that's something."

They sat in silence for a time. Jyn could almost hear her fifteen minutes ticking away.

"You," he said. "How - are you?"

She gestured at herself. "In one piece. Got banged up, but nothing some bacta gel couldn't handle." She rubbed at the edge of the bed. "They're not sure what to do with me. Not like I can get court martialed or something. Surprised they didn't shove me in the prison cells again, honestly."

Especially after -

Well. 

"Glad you - stayed," he said. 

Mon Mothma had offered her the shuttle - "that was the agreement," she'd said in her calm voice - and Jyn had rejected it with a firmness that hadn't seemed to surprise the other woman at all. 

"Where would I go?" she said rhetorically.

His hand lay on the covers near his hip. He turned it palm up in a motion that looked like it hurt his whole body.

She put hers over it - "don't" - and saw the little smile. She rolled her eyes and left her hand where it was. 

"Jyn," he said. "The plans."

"I don't - it's not - " 

"Please," he said. "Please."

She looked over her shoulder, through the cloudy plastic. No doctor to wag their finger at her.

And maybe it was selfish of her, but she desperately wanted to talk to someone. To share this pain that rode in her chest like a stone. 

She shut her eyes and took a few shaky breaths. When she opened them again, he was watching her, eyes urgent.

"One of our ships did receive the transmission," she said. "I don't remember what it was called but there was someone important aboard. A princess or something."

"Leia," he said. 

"Yeah, that was her. They sent a message they were on their way. But they got waylaid. A Star Destroyer. Over some dustball on the edge of nowhere. I'd never even heard of the system." She frowned. "-tooine, something."

"Dantooine?" he said, brows pulling together in concern.

"No, not that one. Tatooine. That's it. Like I said, never heard of it."

"What - happened?"

She was stalling. She knew it. 

"They took the ship," she said. 

He sucked in his breath. "Did anyone - "

"Everyone aboard was either dead or captured. The ship itself was destroyed."

"The plans," Cassian said. 

"Nobody knows," she said. "Maybe they were aboard the ship, maybe the Empire took them back - we don't know."

If only she'd kept them. If only she'd grabbed the data cartridge out of the transmission station. But she'd thought it was all right, with all those ships in orbit backing them up, and Cassian had looked as if he was about to collapse. Her first thought had been him. 

"They're gone," he said.

She nodded dumbly. "And there's more."

"How?"

"We got news today. Alderaan." She could barely say. "The Death Star attacked Alderaan."

"Like Jedha?"

"Worse," she said. "Much worse. The whole planet."

"The whole - "

"Yes," she choked out, and saw the horror dawn in his eyes as he took that in.

It was stardust, shattered to nothingness. A whole planet. Not one like Jedha or Scarif, either, that could be covered up or written off as a mining accident. They'd flicked their fingers and destroyed Alderaan, a Core world with a population in the billions. With that one stroke, the Empire had established that it could do whatever it wanted and nobody could stand against it. 

And the plans . . . the plans they'd worked so hard to find, sacrificed so many. Saw, her father. Bodhi and Baze and Chirrut and Kay, and everyone else who'd died on Scarif or come back in pieces. They'd fought so hard, they'd lost so much, and - 

"It was for nothing." She felt a tear, hot as lava, slide out of her eye and carve a burning path down her cheek. "It was all for nothing."

FINIS

[tanis-fics]

Intermission

When Ash Jr. is trapped in a building shift incident and begins to freak out about his imminent death, the person who aids him is the least one he expects. The least helpful, too, but at the end of the day, Ash could really use a break. (A musical break, even)

Pairings: Theodore Ash Jr. & Ahti, Theodore Ash Jr. & Ahti & Oldest House ♦ Words: 1117 ♦ Notes: For the @februaryficletchallenge, prompt Trapped In An Elevator

[on ao3] ♦ [on squidgeworld] ♦ [read on site]

 When Dr. Theodore Ash Jr. first felt the elevator shake under his feet, and then stop menacingly, he immediately assumed he was going to die. Of course he was going to die after making the discovery of a lifetime, the cruel irony of it almost made him crack a smile; the fact that he could at least see the twisted beauty of the Oldest House in all its glory unlike his father before him almost brought him peace of mind, in those grim final moments.

 He took it in stride at first. Face it proudly like the bearer of his name should.

 Seeing the concrete surrounding him ad infinitum outside his fancy metal cage ever so slowly closing in, however, eventually panic began dawning on him.

 He couldn't die. Not now, of all times. He still had so many things to research, so many caves down in the Foundation to find and study. His friends, the Id, he couldn't just leave them all alone while the rest of his team (or, God forbid, Director Northmoor) probed the place without a care in the world.

 Breath began coming shallow as death started breathing on his neck. Trapped like an animal. No. Trapped like so many members of the Bureau by the shifting chimera of the building. Ash had been researching the energy leylines from the pillar, coming up with ways to stabilize it's uneasy entrails to avoid these senseless deaths, but maybe he had been far too late.

 As his windpipe closed in panic, Ash would have wanted to say that he hoped someone else took his investigations and finished his work for the Bureau. But he was just a coward, and his mind screamed for someone, anyone, to realize where he was and came help him.

"...Yksin sankar yöhön syvemmälle matkaa pois,

Se taakka hänen harteillaan kuin lupaus aina ois,"

 Jerking his head up, Ash recognized that faint melody before recognizing the accompanying voice. He couldn't see anything past the concrete, but the song came from a point somewhere above him. Swallowing, his throat hurt horrors, but he still croaked.

 "J, Janitor, is that you?" He cursed at himself for not remembering his name, despite his appreciation to the mysterious man. The singing stopped, and he felt panic rising again. "Are you there? Can you hear me?"

 Silence followed his many questions, until he heard his voice again, closer this time.

 "Doctor?" His thick accent brought a smile to his face, relief washing over him for a second. "Were you running with your head as your third leg, and got stuck in the walls?"

 He had no idea what that meant.

 "More or less, I suppose." He yelled back, voice breaking a bit at the end, and was met with a candid laugh. If it were anyone else, Ash would be enraged and humiliated, but the Fin's idiosyncrasies put his mind at ease, or as much as it could in that situation. The man had a surprisingly vast knowledge of the building, either inherent or learned, and if he could laugh in the jaws of danger maybe it wasn't as bad as he originally thought it was.

 Still, he was no God either.

 "Friend," he tried again, grabbing the metal curtain and facing the darkness from where the voice came from, "there was a shift in the building and I happened to get caught in the middle! I'll need you to call Security to get me out of here."

 "Yes, yes, do not worry, an emergency does not look like this. Ahti will make sure you get out of there, loose like a grandma's tooth." He sounded very sure of himself regardless of the wording, and Ash thanked him for that. Regardless, time started passing, with only the sound of the mop against the floor and the whistling of the man to fill it. Had... had he even called for help? He couldn't help but wonder, anxiously. Did he misjudge the strange man, misjudge Ahti? Or was he testing him? Could that be a test? "Eh. So nosy." The man called again, sounding... annoyed? Offended? "Don't wait as if waiting for the raising moon. You will not die. Not in an elevator, at least."

 Ash froze, but then sighed. Fine. If the Janitor said he wasn't going to die there, he couldn't possibly die there, he guessed, bittersweet.

 The walls stopped closing in, though.

 "That's right, perkele." He heard him say, proudly, yet probably to himself, before stating louder, in a way that seemed less and less like a suggestion. "Take a rest. It will do you good."

 Odd. What an odd fellow.

 Two peas in a pod, he supposed. The Janitor and the House.

 The Janitor and him, too.

 Resting his back on the opposite wall and sliding to the floor, Ash could swear he felt a rumbling on the elevator, and despite every logic and every alarm ringing on his mind he actually felt his fear slowly melting away, as his breath eventually slowed down too. The Fin's words ticked him, but he was tired, he couldn't remember the last time he took a break. The last time he allowed himself to take a break.

 Maybe he was safe. Call it good luck, or affinity, maybe the house wasn't going to swallow him alive. Not that day, at least.

 "Ahti." He called eventually.

 "Yes?"

 "Could I ask one thing of you, at least?" Since you're clearly not calling anyone.

 "What is it?"

 "Could you sing to me that song you're always singing to yourself?" He heard a surprised noise.

 "Sankarin Tango! You like it?"

 "As a matter of fact, I do!" And then, to himself, somewhat feeling like the compliment will reach his ears regardless. "I've always found it quite lovely, actually."

 "Ah..."

 Ahti sounded extremely pleased, speaking to himself in Finnish with an audible smile on his lips, and Ash couldn't help but smile too as the last traces of fear left his mind and body. As music filled the air around him his worry was replaced instead with the low rumbling that now enveloped him, louder. Did it came from the elevator? From the Oldest House itself? Was it, and could even be a reaction, let alone a positive one? Was it a response to Ahti's singing? First drafts of theories rose and fell like his calmed down breathing, like the melody carried by the air, as he waited to be rescued. Or, as it eventually will come to happen, for the walls to open and for him to meet his janitor friend, standing alone on a recently cleaned room.

 For now, Theodore Ash Jr. simply sat there, enjoying the choir in peace.

[lordy-lou]

and now you are and i am now

written for @tentoorosemicrofics, stretching the prompts of “edge” and “singing” beyond all possible recognition.  check it out on ao3 here.

As Rose stands, shattered-fixed-frozen and holding his human-sweaty hand on that blustering beach, the Doctor is suddenly reminded of poetry.

Not of any one specific poem, mind you, but instead of the idea of poetry as a whole: rhyme, meter, repetition and symbolism, all words and silences and spacing trying to express that which is too much to be borne.  All art aspires to the condition of music, he remembers, he knows, and poetry comes the closest, a gratifyingly representational element wrapped up in abstraction and inference.  A rhetorical bent, a meandering and cutting of thoughts wrapped up in syllabic precision, in artful chaos.  

He wonders what the poetry is like in this universe.   Different—new—connotations and allusions.  Perhaps a bluebird meant despair, a croaking raven upon a bust a harbinger of fortune.  A phoenix, death.  No stirring ashes here.

As under a green sea he imagines drowning.  Physical life as perpetual motion, and his single heart hares towards its conclusion contraction by contraction, his mind a tremulous wisp constantly reforming itself in the stream of blood and sense impressions.  His sense of time, of potentiality, the complex biology of a being capable of experiencing and witnessing and manipulating the block universe—oh, it’s all there, the shutter-slides of possible moments one after the other clicking past like a child’s image viewer.

Rose's eyes are wet and luminous in the afternoon sun, staring at the disappearing indented square where the TARDIS had parked in the sand, and when she finally looks at him, he is trapped in her gaze like a failing satellite in a deprecating orbit.

Poetry. He’s never been good with words, gob notwithstanding.  Couldn’t ever get the right ones out when it’d mattered most, couldn’t see the… the… not effect, not point, but necessity of something so intangibly small and terrifying as  I love you.   His people hadn’t had a term for it, in the end.  They hadn’t had poetry, either, not in the way that the others in the universe had in more-than-equal measure.  They’d had art in the most rigid and elegant of representations, with love and brilliance and joy expressed through equation instead of emotion, and even then so repressed and turned down to a low, bare simmer that it paled in comparison to the lightning-fast boil of humanity.

It’s what’d drawn him to them in the first place.  That potential, that passion.  That poetry, that intervallic and linguistic playfulness, from the tight-structured villanelles to the Modernist explosion, of faces in a crowd to lost watches to shared oranges to an old pond all wrapped in heavy symbolism and interpretation; but always, the common fellow-feeling.  That one can read through and see another and the self in words, individuals bound together by the great weavings of the human experience.  

He can see himself mirrored in Rose’s eyes, and he half-hates the image he can see there.  So he pushes past, looks at her: a thinner face, lighter makeup, a tense, straight set to her shoulders under her leather jacket—and oh, how he wants to hold the rounds of those shoulders in his hands, to pull them from their flexion and gentle them until they’re soft against him.  He thinks of the bare skin of her, under his hands—

—and his mind, that tremulous wisp drowning under a stream of blood and sense impressions, flickers, and he brushes aside his time senses, his training all screaming at him to stop, stop, this is beneath you and it’s frighteningly easy to ignore the entirety of it with this new human element in his system.  Nearly a millennium of self- and societal-imposed asceticism, up in flames for a woman who had looked at him with tender, brave eyes and offered her company to an old, broken man.  

He doesn’t find a single atom of regret in the ashes of his strictures.

His grip on her hand changes, fingers twining like he’s found home, and he steps closer to her, his brilliant, bowed human love.  She hasn’t stopped staring at him, like he’s something unreal.  Perhaps he is.  He doesn’t feel quite real, in this moment that continues to flow from could be to wriggly now to solid past.  Time is passing,  and he only has so many heartbeats left.

“Rose,” he starts.  She’s still silent, but she’s turned to face him, all tightly-wound limbs and runner’s grace kicking through her bones. “Rose—,” he begins again, and his throat closes up, so he snarls at the sky instead.  Her hand squeezes his, and he looks back to her.  There is something quiet and considering in her gaze, now.  He wants to give her anything, everything, all of him.

Poetry.  

He’s always been shit at it, honestly.

“Did you mean it?” she says into his tortured silence.  “What you said?”

He tilts his head.  Thinks of recitations he could give to her, arcing words of beauty he knows he could never really deliver correctly.  He brushes his thumb against hers slowly as he thinks, and he catalogues and revels in the shudder that rushes through her and then through him in return.  Thinks of—no, knows, his time senses and potentialities flickering back in at his bequest—growing old with her, grey and withered, and that self-same shudder at the rasp of skin on skin, of a growing TARDIS and comfortable mornings wrapped up in each other, house-rattling arguments, a child wild with laughter at a birthday cake, paired golden rings growing dull and scratched with time and adventure and love and death—

Gently, he steps finally, fully into her space, and his free hand cups her jaw.

“Oh, Rose Tyler,” he says, resting his forehead against hers.  Their breaths mingle and he can hear the blood rushing through his veins, pounding in his ears.  “I meant every word.”  For the first time since the golden fire of the time vortex embodied, he presses his lips to hers.  Beneath him, she hums, and there is a smile on her lips and tears on her cheeks as she kisses him back.

“Good,” she whispers between breaths.  Then she laughs softly as he chases across her cheek with kisses, and he wants to hear that sound forever. No weight of the universe on him now, only the comforting pressure of gravity and fatigue in his bones; only the sweet press of Rose Tyler against his chest.

His heart beats ever on.

[seldonhari]

Tag game: tag 9 people you’d like to get to know better

Tagged by the loveliest @somebirdortheother!! Thank you, friend

Last song: Tu Rumba. I'm listening to Just Coolin' right now, but I'm not sure if I can call it a "song"

Currently watching: I started Mad Men last week and I'm planning to rewatch Peter Capaldi's Doctor Who episodes. Or not. To be quite honest, I'd rather go back to reading more in my free time

Three ships: Not in a super shippy mood, either. Hmm. Let's go with Twelve and Clara - the ultimate ship, Gene and Alex (from Ashes to ashes), James and Anna (from Above Suspicion lmao, Ciarán Hinds girlies will understand)

Favourite colour: Warm orange and Autumn yellow

Currently consuming: Jared Harris interviews Sugar-free cookies (dinner) and tea

First ship: I'd say twelveclara, but I vaguely remember shipping House and Cuddy when I was a kid (Terrible, I know). Can I mention a brotp here? Because I ADORED Alan Shore and Denny Crane from Boston Legal (Was this show even real?)

Relationship status: The next best thing to be

Last movie: Much Ado About Nothing (1993)

Currently working on: 1) My Spanish? 2) Goddamn Christmas cards (for 2024, because I'm late this year) and a few drawings for moots aka you

Tagging (no pressure) @daincrediblegg @merrycrozier @lady-of-imladris @queenmeriadoc @partywithponies @cakesandsnouts @camecrawlingback @csswingandeasy @lillersdabomb and everyone who feels like participating

[kiana-kaslana-423]

Mmk, I'll try my best with Ho'ol's personality. I can't guarantee accuracy, though, mainly because while I have read the current event story that she features in; that does not mean i comprehend it well. The same goes for her file and voice lines, but I do enjoy listening to her.

But to start off with something easy, she is the type of lady to tease, or at the very least sound like she's teasing even if her words are ones that will piss people off or it's threatening and a little murdery, until the person she teases either gets flustered, can be out of anger, or can't take it anymore, most likely out of anger, only to then slip away from their grasp with satisfaction, like a cat that ate the canary. Hoolheyak is a manipulative, conniving, smug bitch (affectionate), who does not have a single problem with deceiving, antagonizing, backstabbing others if it means that she will get closer to her current interests, goal, or even just because she can, and she is unapologetic about it and may enjoy it even.

https://pbs.twimg.com/media/FvCM7NfWcAIucr3?format=jpg&name=large

(^ Hool getting grabbed by another person, Saria, more or less because she kept provoking her during their fight, and the first thing she said as this happened was, "Oh dear, looks like I've lost." Anyways, she looks very pretty and smug like this.)

You could try and say that she's crazy, though that's not really the case. Then again, the line between the knowledgeable and the insane is blurred. But like I wouldn't blame her for that given that her entire bloodline/race(?) screwed her and those born in it with vast knowledge of their history and glory of their past only to then be doomed with a shortened lifespan and a mission that is impossible to complete the moment that they are born and that is if they're lucky enough to survive the magic surgery implant thing on their brain that gives them the aforementioned knowledge and short life.

After the plan to restore her bloodline's past glory failed, she found the resolve to work for the future with whatever time she has left. Is she an idealist who wants to change the future by avoiding the mistakes of the past? Maybe, maybe not, but she'll play nice or at least somewhat tolerable to those who share the same ideals or to those who simply interest her.

Anyways after that food for thought that I had shared, I've actually thought about it even more when I've finished reading some of the stuff about her and realized that yeah; doctor Mobius would probably hate her lmao, and Hoolheyak would find it amusing probably. But my point still stands that they would definitely have some tension going on. Hatefucking is probable

To visualize, if they were literal snakes; doc Mobius is hissing at Hoolheyak and is ready to strike at her while Hool is slithering close to Mobius just out of striking zone.

Also found a few specific voice lines from Hool that would work for an interaction between the two;

- Immoral scientist, disloyal mercenary, double-crossing spy... yes, that's all me. Rules are what bar you from working to your full efficiency, darling, and you must learn to break them. (Excerpt of Talk 1)

- Tell me, Doctor, how does it feel to lose your memory? I couldn't bear to see a great library reduced to ashes in a fire, but a librarian fool enough to only brush the dust off the shelves pains me even more. Who's sadder, you or me? (Talk after trust increase 3)

- Careful! These are rare documents. How did I get them? Relax, not by following procedure, I assure you. What? You want to interrogate me? (Trust Tap)

Totally normal for the 42-year-old feathered snake and the 'immortal' snake

You just gave me extreme ammo for the gun I didn't have loaded hehehe

This is a great help thank you!!!! <3333

[just-me-venting-cause-life-sucks]

Hey! COD fandom! Especially the ones who ship Ghost and Soap together!

You're not in trouble or anything, I just wanted to get your attention.

Now, I know that you like your fictional characters to be war criminals, gay and not mentally well. And so, I would like to share with you something that I have been obsessing over since... *looks at the calendar* September.

I would like to introduce you to... THE MECHANISMS.

The Mechanisms is a music band of immortal storytelling space pirates, who have fun where possible, violence when necessary(and unnecessary), and if they are lucky, then both at once!

The crew is very diverse, as only one character is of human origin. Here is a list of almost everyone in the crew(there are way too many):

Jonny d'Ville, the captain first mate, burned down a casino(?) after killing his dad

Gunpowder Tim, master at arms, blew up the Moon

Baron Marius von Raum, ship's doctor(he is not a doctor, he is not a Baron), we still don't really know

Drumbot Brian, the pilot, got flung into space

Ashes O'Reilly, quartermaster, burned down an entire planet, canonically uses they/them pronouns

Ivy Alexandria, archivist, she doesn't know either but there was fire

Nastya Rasputina, engineer, got killed in a revolution, canonically a lesbian and is having sex with the ship(we don't know how it works either, don't ask)

The Toy Soldier, yes, you read that right, this is a literal, human sized, wooden soldier, it will not leave them alone

I would recommend starting with their first album, Once Upon a Time (in space), and listening to each album in the order of release. You will cry because of how amazing it is. Please just give them a listen.

[itissnowing]

Tag 9 PPL U wanna get to know better

I'm going to combine it too xD @itslight666 @reznorty3

1. Three ships

Lawlight (duh xD), Lumity (Owl House), Eruri

(I have so many more 🥲 Historia/Ymir, Mello/Matt, Viktuuri, Ash/Eiji...)

2. First ever ship

I don't remember, it was either Doctor/Master from Doctor Who or Stexpert. The last one was a YouTube germany ship that was even shipped by the two people involved in it xDDD sixth grade was a wild place

3. Last song

L.A. Woman - The Doors

4. Last movie

Terminator 3

5. Currently reading

Sasaki and Miyano, Attack on Titan, Bullet Train

6. Currently watching

Star Trek The Original Series

7. Currently consuming

Ate some chips

8. Currently craving

A good grade in my physics exam and sleep

9. Tagging

@jessynote @pebblesgum @ratbefriender @cupid-bunny-light-yagami and anyone who wants to join :DD

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Trials and Defibrillations (Intermission 1)

Prev

He wasn’t particularly sure when he had stopped being human.

He had been, once, of that he was sure. He had once had a name, but he had long-since forgotten it. It didn’t really matter to him.

He couldn’t remember who that person was.

He only had the vaguest, blurriest memories of a time Before.

He’d had a father and a mother, and he remembered that he didn’t particularly like them. He remembered feeling trapped, constantly, remembered clawing at walls until his fingernails broke off. He remembered begging until his voice was raw. He remembered being pressed down, drinks and food and substances that shouldn’t have been called either getting forced down his throat in the name of a search for an elixir of life. He remembered a needling voice in the back of his head saying there was a solution to all of that.

He remembered a lot of blood and fire. That, too.

But all of that was hazy. It didn’t even feel like him. It was like he was in the back of someone else’s head, watching as they went through life. As they wandered.

Not that he hadn’t enjoyed wandering. He had learned to find newness interesting, refreshing. Time passed him by, and he knew instinctively that he should have been gone long ago, and yet there he was.

It was boring.

Humans, he found, were hard to get bored of. Even when you disregarded the differences caused by genetics, they were so varied. Sure, the ones he had met first had sucked, and maybe that was part of the reason he had started testing his abilities in the first place… but, if he was being honest with himself, he had just wanted to. Humans were interesting, and he wanted to make them more interesting.

And so he did.

He found he was never happier than when he was standing over a corpse, whether or not he had caused it was irrelevant.

Though causing it, he had to admit, was pretty fun.

So, that was what he did. He found more and more creative ways to send a civilization spiraling. Fires were his favorite, simple and effective and allowing for immediate gratification. But sometimes he went for more long-form methods. Watching people tear each other apart, their civilization collapsing under the weight of their own conflicting egos, was always a gratifying task.

Of course, eventually the fun would end, the city would lay in rubble at his feet, and he would have to move on. Satisfy himself with nature’s cruelty and learning new hobbies and languages while he waited to stumble upon a new place.

One time, he had been found out. A partner had realized he hadn’t been aging far sooner than he had thought they would, before he could get away.

And he had been worshiped as a god.

The town had ended up burned to ashes, but the idea had never really left him.

A god, he had thought. Well, that explained it.

And, as if to confirm the thought, he began seeing the numbers. A countdown over people’s heads telling him when, exactly, they were going to take their last breath.

Usually, the numbers were pretty small when he thought to look up and read them.

And that was his life. Not one that most would feel comfortable living – hell, even he wasn’t enjoying it, he was more than aware that, as the years passed, he felt less and less like the human he was born – but it was his.

Until she came along.

It was a normal day. He had long-since learned how to introduce plagues. It wasn’t even hard, really. Sometimes, if he really concentrated, he could even choose some of the symptoms.

And, so, he’d unleashed it on a random town he had come across.

It was going great.

Until he had noticed her.

A doctor, it seemed. He had been mildly surprised. Women didn’t often get to work outside of the homes because they were seen as too precious to get in harm’s way, but he supposed her being a doctor was still a stereotypically ‘womanly’ job, with the healing and bedside manners and all that…

Or maybe they were just desperate. She looked pretty young. Maybe fifteen or so. They were probably desperate.

But that wasn’t why he had concentrated on her.

No, it was because the number above her head said that she was set to live for another ten years.

He didn’t often interfere beyond his original nudges to get them where they wanted. Why would he? Too much interference would make things too monotonous, he would much rather watch people react in real time to the destruction heading their way. He wasn’t concerned with the scientific method’s emphasis on validity and reliability, he just wanted thing to be interesting. So, he introduced a situation and stepped back.

He didn’t often see anomalies like this, though, and he couldn’t help but want to learn more.

How was she going to live for so long? Everyone else was set to die in the next half a year or so, max. What was wrong? Was his plague so poorly constructed that a teenager could fight it off? Was it her?

He had decided to, just this once, clamber out of the belltower he had been using for a good vantage point, gather up a few items, and go to talk to her.

The bell over her door dinged. Her head shot up from where she had been grinding down a couple of herbs.

The smock she was wearing was large enough on her for him to want to laugh, but he was sure that it was helping her lengthened lifespan. Less exposed skin made for less ways for the plague to get her. Damn it. He knew he should have made it an airborne disease.

Whatever. He’d figure it out.

“Hi,” he said, leaning against the doorframe, tugging the strap of his bag up his shoulder. “Am I interrupting anything?”

She smiled at him. It was a kind thing that reached her eyes. She was the epitome of a kindly doctor. “Not at all! I can do this and talk.”

He smiled gratefully and opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off before he could:

“Has anyone ever told you your eyes look kinda like a cat’s?” She asked, pointing to the pupils that had slowly dilated over time.

He raised an eyebrow. “Has anyone ever told you your freckles make you look like a ladybug?”

Her face flushed red. Ironically, that only served to make her look more like one.

He crossed his arms over his chest, smiling a too-sharp grin. “Yeah. Weird thing to tell someone, right?”

“Sorry, sorry,” she said, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear and then thinking better of it (damn). “I guess that was wrong of me.”

He snorted. “It was. You should be very sorry.”

“I am! I even said it twice, so. That’s, like, extra sorry.”

“Oh, I see, I see,” he said. “Well, I’d be willing to forgive you, for a ‘price’. I’m here for a reason, and all.”

She glanced him up and down, no doubt taking in the skinny frame he had had for the longest time. He’d never really seen a need to eat when he didn’t need it for sustenance, it was a lot of effort to get food and even more to get specific currencies for it, and he had long-since grown used to the quiet hunger that had settled in him.

“Are you looking to be a patient?”

She looked a little tense, now. Her shoulders had already been hiked up to her ears since the moment he had spotted her, her infirmary was already running out of room, but he was sure she would say yes regardless.

Luckily for her, that wasn’t the cover he had gone with. He didn’t know how he was supposed to fake his death when he couldn’t even be injured.

He reached into his bag and pulled out a jar of leeches. If he was going to be committing to this, he was also going to be committing purposeful malpractice by introducing terrible ideas to the masses. “I’m a doctor from another town, actually.”

“Ohhhh. A foreign doctor. Why’re you here, did you get kicked out?” She asked, grinning.

He huffed. Actually, he had moved on after making them all tear each other apart, thanks. “I figured you guys could use all the help you can get.”

Her grin lessened somewhat and she looked down at the man curled in on himself on her table. He looked too pale, some sick clinging to the corner of his mouth. She gripped her mortar and pestle tighter.

“I’m going to figure this out.”

No, you won’t, he thought.

“I hope so,” he lied through his teeth. He held a hand out to shake. “Adrien Agreste.”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she said, giving a slight bow in recognition instead. “Sorry about not taking your hand, but I don’t know if you’re safe yet and I don’t want the miasma to get to me.”

He let the hand drop, dispelling the plague that had been lingering on the tips of his fingers. No wonder she was going to live longer than the rest despite her occupation putting her in the line of fire. “Probably for the best.”

She giggled, setting down her chemicals. She clapped her hands together. “Well, if you want to try out your leeches, then I have another patient in the next room!”

“I’d love to see them,” he said and, for the first time during that entire conversation, he wasn’t lying.

+++

Up next: Jonathan is shocked to find out that being saved by a child is actually a short cut to adopting them

Next

Trials and defibrillations masterlist

[terapsina]

hi :)

just came across „questions for fic writers“ and I’m loving the questions! I really have to pace myself here: would love to read your answers to 1, 3, 7, 10.

(was this post a sign to read the bamf!elena fic of yours I’ve bookmarked forever ago & still love the premise of 🤔)

(I mean if you want read it I would not at all oppose it 😁 (I really am proud of my angry bamf!elena fic, it's ongoing but fuck if I haven't ended up stuffing it full of all my TVD issues and how I'd like to fix them (the story actually also includes caroline's road to healing, bamf!bonnie, revenge against the salvatores, elejah with pining, bit of klaroline, rebekah getting friends and perhaps moooore *cough*bonnie*cough*)).

But as for the actual questions.

1. What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?)

Well that obviously depends on what kind of fandoms a particular person enjoys but... I guess as something that would work as an introduction to my writing style and figuring out if it's something that is to the reader's taste? It should probably be one of my 5+1 type fics.

Because they're longer you'd get a proper read but because it's basically a small series of related short scenes you'd also see if you'd be interested in my shorter one shots (I have wayyy more fics that are 300 to 1500 words than the longer stories).

But to narrow it down to one story.

5 Times The Doctor Talked About River Song With Graham (+1 Time The Fam Finally Met Her)

The title is pretty self-explanatory I think. But basically Graham finds the Doctor's wedding ring and it opens up the way for the Doctor to actually talk about her wife.

And the fic contains both angst and fluff (both of which I tend to juggle on equal basis), grief and some bonding between two widowed people. And outsider POV on the romance (also something I've done a few times).

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?

Oh boy. I think I tend to write with a very deep focus into the emotional and mental space of the character. I tend to focus a lot on describing how a character feels during the scene.

Okay, so as an example from that bamf!elena fic.

One thing, one thing. Just one thing, so that she could take another breath and not have it scorch her lungs to ash.

It was like trying to build a sandcastle during high tide. She didn’t have anything to use that wouldn’t wash her away spinning into the next wave of awful flashbacks.

Nothing. Nothing except-

She’d been free. Freed from a conscience she couldn’t afford to give up again. Free from the grief she’d never actually wanted to abandon, not until the choice was taken from her. But also free from the two brothers that had been taking choices away from her from the moment they’d come to town.

And she didn’t want to give that freedom up. She wouldn’t. Not ever again.

She gasped in a deep, cleansing breath free of pain, - just one moment of utter clarity - and moved before either Stefan or Damon expected it. One of them too intent on coaching her through her returning humanity, the other with his arms holding her in place and his head within easy reach, neither of them saw her coming before it was too late and they’d already joined her first boyfriend on the ground with their necks in the same state as his.

Then she staggered in place. Feeling the starvation that had been inflicted on her these past few weeks as the Salvatore brothers tried to get their Elena back.

Her eyes strayed toward Damon again without her consent and she felt a moment of reignited terror at the tug within her, the encroaching pull to not hurt him. She could still feel it. Weaker than she remembered, frayed copper wire instead of hard steel cuffs, but still there. The sire bond wasn’t gone. Not entirely.

“No,” she choked out and after only a momentary stop to take back her ring, was running toward the one place that might hold the information that could sever that last piece of chain. Because she couldn’t live with it in place, she’d rather go back to burning alive.

Other than this focus on the inner dialogue of the character from whose point I'm writing.

I write a lot of pining. A lot of angst that's mixed with comedy. And fluff that's mixed with comedy. And fluff that's mixed with angst.

Also. I guess I have a particular weakness for fix-it fics maybe? And I think my best stories are probably the ones that involve at least some gen elements that twine through the romance stuff.

7. Any worldbuilding you’re particularly proud of?

Well, I mostly tend to write canon universe/canon divergence stories which don't include all that much world building on my part. But there is one AU fic I'm rather proud of.

Royal Marriage Agreements and Cursed Princesses and Dragons Oh My!

It's my 'feminist fairy tale Clizzy with a touch of Malec' fic. Where Izzy's a princess who's supposed to marry against her wishes and instead goes 'fuck that' to go wake up the cursed to sleep princess and get out of it. I enjoyed coming up with some fun world stuff for that one (Magnus is the dragon btw).

10. How do you decide what to write?

Hell if I know.

My writing habits are made out of pure chaos. But stuff usually starts out with a concept or a scene.

Stuff like: what if Elena's sire bond didn't get broken but she wants it gone and what if Elena actually found out what Damon did to Caroline?; what if Henry found the ring before Hook could propose and stole it to buy his moms some time to figure their stuff out because clearly Emma and his mom are in love?; what if Kate got badly injured and Alice brought her to Mary still dressed as Batwoman? (I wrote this before Mary found out in canon); what if I go through six seasons worth of times Bellamy tried to stop being in love with Clarke while failing miserably and then gave them their freaking happy ending?; what if I tear out my own heart by writing through Monica's POV all the times she and her mom talked about Auntie Carol and what if I also add some matchmaking parent trap at the end there?

After that. There's one of two ways it could go. Either I come up with the dialogue and then add the inner monologue and description of scene around that OR I do the inner voice first and then build the dialogue around that.

And then I forget everything I ever knew about writing until new 'what if' arises and I write and rewrite stuff till out comes something I don't entirely hate.

[legiomiam]

I cannot find an ask meme so HERE please tell me five facts each about two characters whose names start with R (I know you have a lot 😤🖤🌲)

Okay I should finally answer this:

5 facts about two characters with R names and I have a lot but probably no facts okie dokie here we go:

I talk enough about Rashka so let's talk about her kids instead Reign and Renee. Though I may do all 3 because at least one fact for them all ties together.

Reign fact 1: Reign wasn't the OG main character when I first created them in 2014. They were honestly an older brother for an OC named Europe for a Divergent fic that I was working on. It was supposed to be like the group as they left chicago found a different facility that was an abandoned testing site the Bureau had made. Reign at the time was a young 20s gay man who fell in love with a doctor and watched his kids.

Rashka fact 1: So Rashka was dead. Like in the OG story when it was a divergent AU. And she and Brahm did not have a good relationship and she was the younger sister of a character named Velda who was the mom of Reign and Europe, and wife of Brahm. When the story started slipping from a divergent fic it became really dark really fast as I tried to figure out how to write a dystopian about these siblings who were hiding from their tyrant father.

Renee fact 1: Renee did not exist either not for a bit, anyways. So then I came up with Matheson who was just Mahdi and had his own story where he was the kid that Velda ran away with so he didn’t grow up with his siblings Europe and Reign who were left behind. As the story got dark and it became that they went back to their home they found Rashka had been living in the walls of their home as punishment. There wasn’t enough spice because Reign and Matty had beef with how they grew up that I wanted another sibling to sorta balance it out thus Renee was created and much much younger. For me in 2014 I was 20 and based my age and my characters together: Reign was 24, Matty was 20, Europe was 17, and Renee was 9.

Reign fact 2: her story came well after a big shift in what I was writing. I went from dystopian and having already started thinking of a different dystopian story (From Ashes And Dust) that I didn’t want two dystopians and I really wanted to get back into fantasy, the switch happened after reading ACOTAR. So I came up with an idea of a story of Vampires and Fae being mortal enemies but I had no characters. Reign came back to life with a vengeance wanting to be at the forefront instead of their sister Europe (who would later go on her own drastic change). I wrote so much none of it made sense because I had no real plot, just scenes I wanted to get down. This bitch also really didn’t like the fact her now mother (Rashka) and her father Brahm didn’t get along so they shifted into a begrudging relationship.

Rashka fact 2: Her story came once I got a plot for Reign’s and then I realized that writing on how the siblings all came to be was gonna be more than a few chapters, Rashka’s story needed to be told, along with the fact that she started being more than a vampire that had some kids with a Fae. In writing her, her relationship with Brahm changed as did her relationship with her parents and her own children. She was no longer a character’s mother but an extension of myself.

Renee fact 2: *spoilers for a part of the plot*  He was still very 2 dimensional and for most part referred to as Reign 2.0 or the remix. But when I started plotting both Reign and Rashka’s stories to figure out what would be told where he was the only one who didn’t believe Reign was dead when she got banished for being part Fae. And was the first to look for her and create Reign’s story into the idea that the children have their own stories to tell. He also aged up much more so if they existed now their ages would be: Reign- 28 (same age as me), Matheson- 27, Sonja- 24, Renee- 23

Okay now into some few actual not depressing story building facts about the characters

Reign fact 3: Reign is trans/trans nonbinary and uses they/them and she/her pronouns. Her transition came at the time I was figuring myself out. Yes parents and siblings are accepting and there was never an idea for them not to be EVER. Rashka and Brahm are too proud of their children. When she is feeling like she wants to look more masc they only use they/them. And as a shapeshifter it's easy. That came along with Reign stealing the MC spotlight from their sister.

Rashka fact 3: Her name was a weird thing to happen it just came to me one day. She was just ‘nameless mother’ and then it’s like boom her name is Rashka same with her last name Ananulli. I know I wanted a mix of names that could be found online or in baby books and name sites and a mix of ones that I made up. And it worked because I based her family off a mix of ethnicities, races, cultures because I’m mixed race, at the time I was married to someone who was not of my race either and I had step children my ex had used a surrogate for with their first spouse who was not of either of our races. So all in all Rashka’s mother is afro hispanic and her father is asian and come from two different areas in this world where they do not speak each other’s languages at first. My step kids also knew sign language since there was a chance one would develop hearing issues later on, so I sat like how would her parents learn to communicate if they could not talk to each other and it became that they would find a way in a form of sign language and charades in this fantasy world….

Renee fact 3: which brings me in part of Renee fact 3 since his and technically Reign’s name also tie in with Rashka’s fact 3. Language barriers do cause a snafu in understanding how syllables and pronunciation works. And when writing Rashka’s mom��s first meeting of Seung he embarasses her much like Moses did Zipporah in Prince of Egypt (though Seung’s was more making fun of the way that she acted and spoke because of a misunderstanding). Well Ivette although forgiving Seung many years later and having Rashka named her such in a way that it would be hard to pronounce her name to the northern empire in their language around fangs. That was Ivette’s payback to embarrass him. And like mother to daughter Rashka did the same when angry with her father when naming Reign and then when having her final kid he did something stupid again and although much better with pronunciation she named Renee his name because it was still a hindrance along with confusing that Rashka, Reign, Renee, (and at the time having a character named Roaan). Why R’s though? That is part in of myself because *and sorry for the gross fact* but for someone who has a bunch of R named characters my mouth is weird and produces too much saliva when my tongue is held a certain way R’s being one of them when there’s an R followed by a vowel my mouth starts producing more saliva. So I thought hmm what if I had characters with that hindrance.

Reign fact 4: She is left handed like her father. And can play many instruments— I am not and can not play anything but the clarinet. But I was amazed that one of my brothers taught himself to play the piano and violin. I made it an Ananulli thing and had Rashka teach her kids like her father taught her. She is also the one the grandparents taught the most of their Fae/Vampire cultures to.

Rashka fact 4: She loves to bake, mainly pies, and even if in a modern day of her being some rich bitch she’d still want to own a pie shop. Her favorites to make are: Blackberry maple bacon pie (Reign’s favorite), Tomato persimmon pie (Brahm, Seung, and Matheson’s favorite), a strawberry cucumber one that she makes for a few pregnant characters, and then one that she makes for herself and her pet griever which is a twist on a cherry danish.

Renee fact 4: Renee is the only one of the four born from Rashka and Brahm, and even if Reign and Sonya have green eyes, Renee’s is the only one with horns and blue hair from their paternal grandparents. All the while he looks like a darker skinned version of their maternal grandfather Seung, same face syndrome struck that boy. And while not getting his mother’ mind reading like Reign and Sonya he did get the slight shapeshifting and mainly used it to get rid of his horns and the blue hair feeling much like an outsider of his own siblings. Only growing into it when his adopted sister Caro later expressed her feelings of having a family she doesn’t look like.

And the finishing line let's see if anything more interesting comes up:

Reign fact 5: Reign only gets discovered and banished after taking the fall after changing a young woman named Nicolette into a vampire as made vampires have a high chance of becoming a griever. This is the only person Reign has made into a vampire and until she makes her acolytes after taking on the role of the goddess of death the first person Reign technically brings back to life and the first of seven that are tied to her, since made vampires have a bond with their sire. (joking Renee brings her back but only him and Reign know that for a while and it’s why Renee feels so guilty and needs to find Reign)

Rashka fact 5: She is the daughter of Ivette who is the daughter of a god, technically while Ivette should’ve been a demi-god and Rashka a quarter god Rashka is half god since Ivette is a full god thanks to the weird bloodline coming from IVette’s grandmother being a human turned into a god. She has a draw to gardening outside of baking which is because before her grandmother was captured she had more spring like qualities like her own mother. But since her grandmother was captured her powers in rage became more bitter and cold. So Rashka’s powers that aren’t part of her being death’s vessel are more ice like but she has never killed a plant in her garden.

Renee fact 5: He is the only sibling that does not share qualities with the god he’s supposed to be a vessel for. As the children are supposed to be the vessels for Death, War, Conquest/Pestilence, and Famine. Renee shows no traits of famine— which is noted by Rashka in his childhood and her hope that maybe she’s reading too much into this “curse”. Though it’s overlooked because Sonya is sick a lot later into childhood that Reign was the only child wanted by the thing that made the gods. The fear causes a sort of eating disorder with feeding and blood in Renee that he hides it from his parents and it then causes him to nearly turn feral and kill a young woman named Nicolette.

[sobercentre]

Mary-Kate Olsen drug addiction journey is just another two peas in a pod, as most Hollywood celebrities struggle with fame and substance abuse. In retrospect, the glamorization of drug abuse in Hollywood is all too common. Numerous tabloid stars have encountered drug abuse disorders, and if not, someone close to them is doing drugs. It is almost as if it comes with the territory since many have disclosed their battles with drug addiction to the public. But where did it all begin? It began in the 1930s when Hollywood stardom was flooded with young, rich, ambitious actors and actresses accustomed to publicity and long work hours brought about by their demanding careers. To fulfil the Hollywood hustle, the system encouraged pep pills or “vitamin shots,” as doctors called them, to help the superstars be energetic or get sleep. This gave them a ticket to abuse drugs as long as they would be on-set when needed and develop tolerance with time. It was, therefore, not unusual for celebrities to engage in alcoholism heroin or cocaine use. Worse, the public and the media began idolizing drug-abusing celebrities while stigmatizing ordinary people who fall victim to addictions. This Hollywood tragedy still lives on in the 21st century, where people are desensitized to drug abuse, just like they are desensitized to violence through movies and TV shows. The media has witnessed the likes of Zac Efron, Angelina Jolie, Oprah Winfrey, Robert Downey Jr., Lindsay Lohan, and many more media personalities confess their struggle with alcoholism, heroin and cocaine addictions. On that note, this article will look into Mary-Kate Olsen drug addiction through her screen career and how she got over the addiction. Grab a coffee and get comfortable. Mary-Kate Olsen’s screen debut As one-half of the sororal Olsen twins, Mary-Kate was born on June 13, 1986, with her twin Ashely Olsen and together, they began their screen careers at nine months old on the sitcom show Full House. While child labour laws restricted children to 20 minutes per episode, the director hit the jackpot with the lovely twins switching places to cover 40 minutes on-set. Their first gig was profoundly successful; since then, the duo has always been together. It was also an avenue for launching the Dualstar Entertainment Group, making them one of the youngest executive producers in Hollywood history. After a few years, Mary-Kate and Ashley produced countless shows, movies, and fashion lines, including The Row, Elizabeth and James, Olsenboye and StyleMint, and a metric ton of merchandise totaling their net worth of $500 million. Just like their career flourished, so did the twins maintain a stellar reputation, unlike the rich and famous teenagers of their age who were party animals. They either kept a clean record or were so good at escaping the tabloids. Well, the latter sounds truer if you keep reading. The beginning of the Olsen tragedy Mary-Kate and Ashley fell into the media limelight accidentally. They did not choose a life of fame. Nonetheless, they had to measure up; fortunately, it worked to their advantage. However, measuring up to their demanding career meant taking a lot of coffee to get them wired enough for the day. As a result, they developed a caffeine addiction at a very young age. As the twins confessed, their mother would make them pancakes and a tiny cup of coffee on the weekends. Mary-Kate tells the WMagazine, “I remember at 10 sneaking my own coffee and pouring a ton of sugar in and going up to the playroom and drinking it.” Additionally, the twins were obsessed with Starbucks and the paparazzi would always be selling pictures of them holding Starbucks cups around the city. Despite their efforts to maintain a clean reputation, their 18th birthday was not so squeaky clean. Dark rumours unveiled the duo’s liberation on their campus life at New York University. Their public image began shifting to that of divas who flaunted their smoking and drinking all over the tabloids.

This approved a previously leaked photo of Mary-Kate drinking at a party while in high school by Spencer Pratt, a reality series personality. While Mary-Kate regularly managed to make news in the media, Ashley stayed in their good books. Down the road to addiction Mary-Kate was exposed to drug abuse during their campus escapades, where they tried all sorts of drugs, from marijuana to ecstasy, cocaine and alcohol. Although her cocaine and alcohol addiction was known to the media, her family remained hushed. Her condition plummeted when she had to check herself into a rehab facility in 2004 for anorexia and drug addiction after a lifetime of denial. The family quickly denied that non of the girls had an addiction problem, but their bodyguards held contrasting opinions. They confessed to seeing the girls participate in pot circles and pass the joint around. To support it, Mary-Kate Olsen was often sported by paparazzi carrying a pack of cigarettes proudly into interviews, clubs, and bathrooms. She wasn’t quite into the under-the-radar affair about her drug use. Mary-Kate went through six weeks of treatment and, three years later, struggled with kidney problems. Her love life has also brought her to the mud after her boyfriend, Heath Ledger, died of an overdose in 2008. How is Mary-Kate Olsen today? Mary-Kate has had a bumpy recovery as rumours of her relapse made the headlines once a few times. Regardless, relapse is part of recovery. The Olsen twins retracted from the limelight to build their careers and work on their mental and physical health. She recently shared her thoughts in an interview with Marie Claire, where she was quoted: "I think it’s really important to be able to talk when something’s wrong". I learnt at a really young age that if you don’t talk about it, it can drive you insane. The 30-something-year-old fashion mogul now lives off social media and married Olivier Sarkozy in 2015. She has managed to hide from the public eye and lead a quiet private life. Ashley and Mary-Kate were last spotted at the 2017 Met Gala.

[screechfoxes]

tagged by @cadmusfly for a "nine people you want to get to know better" tag meme! <3

three ships: hard Q right now when i'm not really Into anything, so let's go Nie Huaisang/Jin Guangyao, Jon/Elias, and... i wanted to do three different fandoms, but honestly, Nie Huaisang/Mo Xuanyu.

(sorry, i don't have a boats answer 😔)

first ship: i am almost certain it was either Doctor/Rose from Doctor Who or Ash/Misty from Pokemon. how times change...

last song: E.V.O.L. by MARINA (which i originally found, years ago, on an 8tracks ship playlist from our old shared fandom. the version i have downloaded still has the playlist art as a thumbnail)

last film: last true film i have logged on my letterboxd is a rewatch of Labyrinth on July 8th, with some friends on Discord. i've watched parts of films since then on train journeys, but never finished one

currently reading: i'm between books right now! i was listening to some of the Ninefox Gambit audiobook at work earlier, and i have The Neon Court from the Matthew Swift series in my bag, but whether i'll continue either is anyone's guess

currently consuming: i just ate a kit-kat.

in a media sense, i've got back into Guild Wars 2 (sideblog here), and i'm planning to play it while catching up on/relistening to podcasts at some point. i want to catch up on The Silt Verses and relisten to The Magnus Archives!

currently craving: KFC popcorn chicken

as usual i am going to cop out of tagging anyone 😔 but there are many people i would like to know better, so feel free to take this as a tag!