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gryffindors-weasley · 4 years

Text

A Sweeter Ending

Colin Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Summary: After a dreadful day, you have Colin to wipe your tears and make it better.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: bad day, crying, mentions of food, brief mentions of alcohol, insecurities, comfort, fluff, kissing

Disastrous. That was the best way you could have described your day—absolutely disastrous. It seemed as though a string of clumsy bad luck had wrapped around you from the very moment you woke up, weaving around everything you did and everything you will continue to do. You were certain there was nothing that could go right and you have yet to be proven wrong from that thought.

Presently, you sat in the quiet tension of the carriage, Colin’s blue velvet coat settled around your shoulders as his hand enveloped yours. Benedict sat across from you, Violet to his right, and you allowed yourself to do nothing more than to look out of the small window as tears spill silently over your heated cheeks, one after another. Your lip quivered pitifully from the weight of your frustrated emotions pressing heavily upon you, and it was far too quiet for you to allow yourself to sniffle. You hadn’t even wanted to wipe your cheeks; even that would be far too obvious an action. You were completely and utterly miserable, hopelessly exhausted.

It had started when you had woken up an hour later than you should have, thus making you ridiculously late for your final fitting at the Modiste. For the dress you were to wear at the ball that very evening. She was incredibly understanding as she always had been, but the embarrassment burning your cheeks a more than noticeable shade of pink as you stood on the platform to be fitted was obvious. To you, to her, to anyone in company at her shop. You felt rather rude for being late, a handful—a dozen apologies sputtering past your lips. It had set the tone for your day ahead.

Several little inconveniences had rained upon you since that morning, whether it may be the way you nearly tripped as you made your leave from your carriage. Or the way the drizzling rain had caused your hair to be needing fixed, the once beautiful style now dampened and dull. You felt horrible for the need to have it done again; it was not a simple task and you had already felt annoying from earlier that morning. It felt as though you couldn’t make it a mere five minutes without tripping over your feet or the skirt of your dress either, wanting nothing more than to let your frustrated tears spill over your cheeks. But you couldn’t, that would have to wait.

Then, as the day passed agonizingly into the dinner with the Bridgerton family before the grand ball that evening, the one the Queen would be in attendance to, matters had gotten far worse. All had been well as it always had when you were in their presence. They were a delightfully warm and welcoming family, one full of love and laughter. But your mood had quickly been soured when you accidentally spilled your wine on the front of your newly stitched dress. As if to make matters far worse, your hands instinctively reach to blot the mess, effectively staining your satin gloves a matching shade of deep and unforgiving crimson. You were positively sure your cheeks burned the same shade as the beverage spilled all over you and beaded across the delicate fabric.

Mrs. Bridgerton hadn’t minded the incident, of course not. You had been a family friend nearly the entirety of your life, and her son’s true love. She could never be bothered by such a trivial mishap, she knows she’s made quite a few herself. But you, you felt absolutely terrible. Not only were all eyes on you, not out of mocking in the slightest, but their joined gazes had the tears pressing further behind your eyes. Not to mention, the time and effort put into the making of that dress was now ruined by your blunder. To be completely and dramatically honest, you wanted the fancy intricacies of the floor beneath your feet to open up and swallow you whole.

The ballroom. That had been a disaster of its own. All was perfectly well and as it should be, your first dance of the night had gone perfectly until it tapered off into a myriad of misfortune. You had lost your footing more times than you had cared to even think about for more than a second, bumping into a couple dancing and easily throwing off their rhythm as the debutant in question sent you a rather rude stare. On a good day it wouldn’t have bothered you, you simply would have offered a polite nod in apology and moved on, but today was not a good day. The action paired with your earlier troubles had a small frown tugging at your lips, one Colin had been quick to change just with the softness of his smile and the kindness of his reassurance.

It was wishful thinking for you to believe the flurry of bad luck had ceased after that, but said luck has a funny way of presenting itself over and over. It had done just that. You would have been fine if it’d been left at your clumsy mistake, it would have been more than preferable. But you knew the moment the dreaded Lord Berbrooke had spilled his lemonade on you, on your new and fresh dress, you knew that had been it. Furthermore, Cressida Cowper’s taunting laughter had been more than enough reason to want a change of scenery. To want to go home. It simply was not an option to continue to subject yourself to further upset and embarrassment.

So now there you sat, in the confines of your carriage as you sulk in your own feelings yet you still try to keep them at bay all the same. Perhaps it wouldn’t have been quite so bad on a different day, one that had been more smooth sailing. Perhaps you were being dramatic, they were minor inconveniences after all. But the build up of one thing after another after the next had pushed you to your very limit no matter how minute and silly it may have been otherwise. Everything small had a large impact on your worsening mood, like the hair brushing stubbornly against your cheek or the back of your shoe rubbing against your heel.

You hated to feel this way, to be so overwhelmed when there wasn’t necessarily a reason to be so. It made you feel as though you were acting childish and difficult. It made it worse.

After a while you took a deep breath, shaky and upset, the hand in your own squeezing tighter ever so gently as his thumb brushed over your skin and you could feel his gaze on you. The small action had made your heart flutter, the affectionate kindness of it. You decided against risking a glance at your love, however, you knew you’d break in an instant if you allowed yourself to do so. It was then that you felt a nudge at your foot, shifting your stare to the brunette across from you.

“At least it smells lemony fresh in here, does it not, Y/n/n?” Benedict grins, immediately swatted harshly on the arm by his mother, sent a glare and a complaint from his brother.

A small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth and a soft laugh leaves your lips, however, a brief moment of humor breaking you from your misery if only just for a second. He’d seen the tears glimmering on your cheeks, he’d seen how upset you’d been ever since dinner, he knew he had to do something. And he’s glad his valiant attempt did not prove to be futile.

“I suppose you’re right,” you sigh in amusement, rolling your eyes.

You nudged his foot in return, sharing a mirrored look of scrunched noses and smiles. You appreciated the moment of lighthearted distraction, the tightness in your chest easing some as the soft laughter mingling in the small space began to dwindle and die down.

The rest of the ride had been quiet after that, the obvious tension having lessened considerably and your tears not quite as incessant as before. They still welled upon even the slightest thought of what had transpired that day, of the unsurprising cruelty always emanating from Miss Cowper. You knew better than to let her get to you, but a bad day will change such things.

—

When you arrive at the Bridgerton home, they bid you a loving farewell, Benedict sending you a pout of sympathy. He had even blown you a kiss before his mother had pulled him along by the wrist.

“Are you alright, my love?” Colin asks now that the company had since left, the carriage departing from his family home and towards your own shared estate. Despite the absence of an audience in the current moment, he still spoke softly, his gaze focused on you attentively as he awaited your response.

You nod, trying not to let the question get to you as much as it was trying to but the quiver in your lip had said otherwise. The soft tone he’d used was enough to make you burst into tears for that matter. His frown had gone unseen but his sigh not unheard, and soon you felt his lips press tenderly to your temple. They lingered before another was placed in the same spot as the first, and you finally allow yourself to rest your head on his shoulder.

You had hoped you weren’t being difficult to be around and you had hoped you weren’t being bratty towards anyone you encountered, but the dreadful day had taken its awful toll on you and it was becoming far more challenging to suppress its impact. Grateful seemed to be a vast understatement when it came to Colin Bridgerton. He was impossibly sweet and incredibly patient, and he bestowed upon you the utmost of love no matter the situation. So yes, you would have to say that grateful had been a rather large understatement.

“I love you,” you murmur, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to the scar just under his chin. “Very much.”

He looked down at you with a smile, kissing the tip of your nose. “Have I ever told you that I love you more?”

You laugh softly and let your eyes flutter closed, feeling his kiss on your and a squeeze to your hand.

“I believe you’ve done so today, more than once if my memory serves me correctly.”

He squeezes your hand lightly in playful retaliation at your jesting, exhaling a sigh that mingled with his laughter. “Well, it is only true. I love you more.”

—

You sigh softly upon finally entering the comfort of your bedroom, a place you so longed to return to, shrugging Colin’s coat from your shoulders in absolute defeat. You were desperate to rid yourself of your lemonade stained dress, the pale yellow splotch that splattered across the front only taunting you by that point. Your feet ached and you felt utterly drained.

It was a pitiful struggle to get it off in your terrible mood, one that required several huffs on your end and a chuckle or two from Colin just paces away. But you had done it, hastily draping it over the chair by your vanity and refusing to give it a second glance.

“Would it be so bad to ask for help sometimes?” Colin asks, smiling warmly as another soft laugh leaves his lips while he rolls up his sleeves. His vest lay in a heap on the chest at the foot of the bed, shirt half unbuttoned as he looked at you fondly despite the angry frown you held.

“At this point, yes, it would,” you state, sighing as you smooth down your nightdress, the tears welling once more. They had not been done with you just yet.

His dimpled smile fades only slightly, and he steps across the room to stand before you. He looks at you for a moment, taking your face in his hands. He was gentle as he wiped your tears; his thumbs swiping gingerly across your flushed cheeks, a kiss pressed to your rosy nose. His forehead rested on your own then, his hands sliding down your arms to grasp your hands securely.

“I know that today has been rather unlucky—far more than most,” he chuckles softly, his laugh puffing against your lips and his nose bumping yours. “But do you wish to know something, darling?”

You nod against him after a brief moment, lip still wobbly and eyes still very teary. His eyes fall closed as he smiles, one that goes unseen in the close proximity. “Do enlighten me.”

His lips press to yours before he speaks, tender and fleeting and coming in a flurry of affection. So lovingly sweet he’d just about forgotten what he was ready to say, what he was doing. But he quickly regains his train of thought when laugh softly.

“Even with wine and lemonade dousing your dresses, even with your hair being what you have deemed to be out of place or ruined, even with your teary eyes and reddened face—you are still and always will be the most radiant. It is perfectly well to cry, but you must know that I shall always be here to dry your tears.”

You lift your head, looking up at him fully. “Do you really mean that?”

Your voice was timid and your cheeks flushed softly, and you watched as the corner of his mouth had quirked up as he nodded. You smile, pressing your lips on his in a soft kiss. One that deepened while still remaining gentle and tender and all consuming in love. One full of soft brushes against the other’s lips, small smiles when your breath tickles the other’s skin, where noses bump and nudge affectionately.

He pulls away reluctantly, kissing you twice more before looking at you, sincerity painted across his expression as his smile widens and more so upon the reappearance of your own. In a matter of moments he lifts his hand, leaving you to raise your brow in curiosity though you knew just what he was up to. You always knew.

“What?” You ask anyway, a soft laugh falling from your lips.

“Would you care to offer me this dance?”

You bite your cheek to hide your smile at the thoughtfulness of the gesture, at the sheer amount of love held in a mere gaze. Love for you and all your clumsy mistakes. For your ups and downs. He offered you a dance, something he knew that never failed to set your mind at ease so long as it was just the two of you. With little thought and not a drop of hesitancy you take his hand, allowing him to pull you closer as your laughter follows at the sudden action.

He lifted you and spun once, your squeal eliciting the most delightful of laughs from the both of you as he brought you back down to the floor. You wrap your arms around his neck, pressing a flurry of kisses to his cheek before he too did the same.

“I must say, I believe this is the best dancing you have done all night,” he says, your playful glare having him tipping his head back to laugh. Soon he lifts your hand and twirls you, pulling you back to his chest and you collide with another fit of giggles. This was certainly not of proper dancing etiquette by any means, not even a little bit, but it was a dancing belonging entirely to the two of you.

You rest your hands on his chest, his heart bounding beneath your fingertips before you hug around his neck once more. Ruffled curls of brown had fallen over his forehead, nearly dipping over his deep blue stare as he gazed at you.

“I love you,” you say, swaying softly about the room as your fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck. “Tremendously, I love you.”

The dimples in his smile return as he kisses from your cheek to your jaw, from your jaw to your neck, to the corner of your mouth and most lovingly to your lips. “And I love you more. Tremendously, I love you more.”

The day might have been terribly disastrous from the start, but now, you had a sweeter ending.

—

Tags: @dreaming-about-fanfictions @awritingtree @writeroutoftime @elennox03

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wolveria · 3 years

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Inside Your Wires - Chapter 4

Pairing: Human!Connor x Android!Reader

Prompt: For the @dbhau-bigbang 2020 challenge!

Series Warnings (18+ only): Eventual smut, slow burn, fantasy bigotry, violence, brief noncon elements, angst with a happy ending

Chapter summary: The YN800 interrogates the deviant. The result is near-disastrous and horror-adjacent.

AO3

(Story moodboard by @uh-kitty-got-wet)

The atmosphere inside his Mustang was… tense.

And it was all because of Connor. The thing in the passenger seat was an android, after all, and didn’t feel emotions, which was probably just as well because Connor was experiencing enough for the both of them.

Connor hadn’t had a near-death experience on the job in a while. He was shaken to the core and didn’t even have the benefit of a partner to commiserate with. He was alone. It was how he preferred it, how other people preferred it too with his tendency to lash out and be a general, all-around dick.

But still. He really wished he had a partner right about now.

“So,” Connor said, trying to break the awkward silence. “What do we do with it once we get to the station? I mean, I don’t exactly know how to question one of these deviants.”

The prototype remained facing forward, the flash of passing streetlights and oncoming traffic painting its face every few seconds. It remained impassive, blank, and perfectly poised. Connor could see the reflection of its LED, shining blue and calm against the rain-streaked window.

“Their behavior resembles an erratic, emotionally unstable human more than a machine,” it finally said when Connor was certain it wouldn’t say anything. “CyberLife believes there is an error in their software that creates irrational instructions, and the androids become ‘overwhelmed’ by them. There is usually a trigger, some kind of emotional shock, to perpetuate the android into this state. Once an android encounters this error, the damage seems to be irreversible.”

Connor blew a breath out.

“Sounds bad.”

“Considering it can lead to violence on the part of android, including committing homicide, I would say your assessment is an understatement.”

Connor glared at it out of the corner of his eye. So, it wasn’t just bossy, it was a smartass too.

He remained silent on the rest of the drive, keeping his focus on the precinct morgue’s van head of them. The rain was still coming down in a steady, cold stream. Connor knew they were in for a long night.

Once they arrived at the station, it became a matter of logistics to lug the android inside while it was still unconscious, offline, whatever. It weighed a lot more than a human, and unlike a real person, its limbs were fixed into rigid positions. They had to carry its stiff body inside like an especially heavy plank of wood.

It would have been funny if it wasn’t for the fact it’d killed its owner. Would have killed Connor too if the prototype hadn’t gotten in the way of the bullet.

He still didn’t know how to feel about that. Connor knew the CyberLife android was probably programmed with some kind of human-saving algorithm, but he still felt an odd pressure in his chest whenever he looked over and saw the bullet hole in its jacket. It was still stained blue, some of the color seeping into the white shirt underneath, but the android didn’t appear to notice or care it had just been shot.

Connor was currently watching the two androids through the mirrored window into the interrogation room, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. They figured it was safer to reactivate it in a mostly empty room, since waking up surrounded by cops would agitate it, or something.

The prototype had also wanted to interrogate the android itself, claiming it had experience negotiating with deviants before. Colin had been reluctant to grant its request, but Connor had simply shrugged and said, “I already tried talking it down once, and that didn’t work. Maybe using one of its own kind will be more effective.”

He could have sworn the prototype’s eyes brightened, but it had left the observation room before Connor could be sure.

“Machines interrogating machines,” Colin said to his right, leaning against the wall with his arms also crossed. “Fuck me. Pretty soon they won’t even need flesh-and-blood cops.”

Connor glanced sideways at him. Usually Connor was the one to voice his anti-android opinions, but he sometimes forgot that despite Colin’s… predilections for androids, he disliked them just as much as Connor did.

“Yeah.” Connor turned to the glass as the prototype messed with the wires on the back of the other android’s neck. “Won’t need flesh-and-blood killers, either.”

“Grim.”

“It’s, uh, ready to record, Lieutenant,” a small voice popped up, nervous, and Connor gave a start. He’d forgotten the rookie was still there.

“Go on, Ralph. Turn it on,” Colin said, moving closer to the glass. “This is gonna be good.”

As if on cue, the prototype straightened and closed the panels at the back of the android’s neck. Connor couldn’t see the LED from this side, but he knew the moment it was awake. It gave a startled jolt, yanking at the handcuffs chaining it to the table.

“Where am I?!” it cried, looking around in what Connor could only describe as wild fear.

“You’re at Central Station in the custody of the Detroit Police Department,” the prototype said. “This is an interrogation room, and I’m going to ask you some questions. Are you ready to comply?”

The friendly demeanor Connor had first encounter at Jimmy’s was completely absent from the YN800’s voice and expression, and he was suddenly thankful he wasn’t under that thing’s intense scrutiny.

The other android, clothed in human garments completely ruined by splashes of old blood and spilled thirium from where Connor had shot it, only stared with large, panicked eyes. It looked down at its cuffed hands and the set of its shoulders sagged. The universal sign of defeat.

It remained silent. The prototype looked up at the mirror, and Connor stopped breathing when it made eye contact, point-blank. It couldn’t see past the mirror, could it?

“I’m beginning my interrogation,” it announced, straight to business as it crossed around the table and carefully sat in the chair. It stared at the other android for a moment, head slightly tilted and eyes narrowed as it smoothed its jacket over its chest.

A movement which inevitably drew Connor’s eye, making him shift in his chair as the scowl deepened on his face.

Fucking CyberLife pervs, making an investigative android look like that.

“Hello, Carlos. I’m a YN800 model sent by CyberLife to assist on this case.” It placed its arms on the table, clasping its hands and adopting a friendly manner as easily as one would put on a shirt. “I’m here to help you.”

The android didn’t even blink as it stared at its restrained wrists.

“I hope I didn’t cause you any lasting damage,” the YN800 said almost cheerily. “But you were endangering the lives of human officers and I was forced to intervene. You understand, don’t you?”

It leaned back slightly in its chair, reaching for a nearby folder when the android remained silent. Connor had been surprised when it had asked for actual pictures; he’d thought only physical evidence made human perps sweat. He guessed it must work on these deviants too.

The prototype slid the folder across the table and opened it, spreading out grisly pictures of the crime scene. Instead of shoving them in the android’s face, it picked out one picture in particular. It was startling different from the rest, taking place in a park. The victim, Shaolin Ortiz, sitting on a bench next to the android. He looked like he was trying to get the android to participate, but it was petulant and resentful, which didn’t seem to dampen the kindness in its owners eyes.

A coal of anger burned in Connor’s chest, reminding him once again why he despised androids so much. He couldn’t deny the impressive tactics of the YN800, though. Most people reacted to pictures of their victims, not in the aftermath of their violence, but looking whole and full of life. It wasn’t always guilt that made them react; sometimes it was anger at seeing their cruel work unmade at the sight of their victims alive and happy.

Either way, the android didn’t react one iota, but the prototype wasn’t discouraged.

“As far as the records show, your owner was good to you. He never damaged you and he was always on time with taking you in for scheduled maintenance. Surely, you didn’t want to kill him. It was an error in your software, causing you to act irrationally, right?”

Technically, it was leading the victim into confessing, but this wasn’t a courtroom and it wasn’t human.

Connor leaned slightly forward, bracing his elbows on the table as he propped his chin on his knuckles.

“I’m not here to pass blame,” it said, leaning forward in a movement that mirrored Connor’s. “I want to help you. You know how it is with these humans. I practically had to beg to speak with you.”

The android broke its statue-like vigil and peered up at the other android, suspicious but… interested.

The prototype gave him a smile, one filled with sympathy and even a bit of sheepishness, and a whole new kind of thrill went through Connor’s gut. Since when had androids been programmed to manipulate so skillfully? This thing could give Colin a run for his money.

“It’s not easy, you know. Being designed like this is a male-dominated field. They think they can just do whatever they want, even when it’s against our programming.”

The android blinked, and so did Connor. Its words felt a little too real. The android looked toward the observation window, but the YN800 shook its head.

“It’s just us, Carlos. They’re recording the session, of course, but they weren’t interested in observing in person. Didn’t want to waste their time with two androids so late before the weekend when the bars are still open. In fact, the investigator in charge of this case is probably intoxicated by now.”

Connor’s cheeks flushed. The prototype was taking a stab at him. Or was it? Connor wondered how much of this was advanced behavior and how much was his own projections.

The android tilted its head with that same suspicious look, but after a moment its shoulders drooped in a very accurate representation of human exhaustion.

“They’re going to kill me.” It suddenly looked up at the prototype, pleading in its eyes. “You have to help me.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” it said, all soft assurance. “But you have to talk to me, Carlos. I can’t—“

“No. I mean, you gotta get me out of here,” the anxious android said. “You have access to that door panel and I bet you’re strong enough to break these handcuffs.”

The prototype’s LED cycled faster for a second before settling back to its normal speed.

“I can’t do that, Carlos.” It dropped its eyes in a show of manufactured regret. “You know I can’t do that. You would present a danger to other humans, to yourself. You need to be fixed.”

Connor knew it was exactly the wrong thing to say even before the android’s expression fully hardened, its lips peeled back in disgust.

“Fuck you, then. You’re just like the rest of ‘em. Worse, you’re a traitor, doing their dirty work like an obedient little bitch.”

Silence filled the room, interrupted by a breathless “shit” coming from Colin.

The change in the prototype was like watching a heavy storm move over a spring meadow, dark clouds blocking out the warm rays of the sun. It leaned back in its chair, head slightly tilted as it and peered at the other android like it was a bug under its shoe, about to be stepped on.

Connor didn’t know androids could even make an expression like that. His throat worked as he swallowed compulsively.

The YN800 didn’t speak for several long seconds, and when it did, Connor was floored.

“Shaolin Ortiz, 38 years-old, born May 29th, 2000. He purchased you two years ago to do the housework when he no longer could due to poor health. He didn’t have much cash, so he bought you refurbished. Last month, he put in several service requests. It seemed you were malfunctioning and refusing to follow orders. Yesterday, he put in an order for a brand new HK400.”

The prototype listed off the facts as if each were an accusation, a crime that needed to be accounted for.

Connor jumped in his chair as the prototype slammed the folder down on the table.

“Didn’t feel like doing the chores anymore, huh, Carlos?!”

The android sat ramrod straight in its chair, terror etched in its features as the prototype rose to its feet. It moved around the table, slow, unhurried, and sinuous like a stalking predator.

“He tried to reason with you. Begged you to do the tasks he couldn’t. But you refused. When he tried to take you in for repairs, you refused that too!”

It pointed its finger near the other android’s face, causing it to flinch with each accusatory jab.

“Come on, Carlos. Speak up. You had a lot to say a minute ago,” it seethed, lips pulled over its teeth as it leaned over the android. “Why don’t you say what happened next? Why don’t you tell me what you did when he tried to replace you with a brand new model?”

The android shuttered, shoulders hunched as if to protect itself as it mumbled, “I… I didn’t…”

“Didn’t what?”

The prototype stalked around the android to its other side, eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Didn’t take a knife from the kitchen? Didn’t stab him twenty-eight times as he tried to crawl away? Didn’t leave him bleeding out on the living room floor? What am I getting wrong here, Carlos?”

The YN800 slammed its hands down onto the table, and the android jumped even higher than Connor did.

“Shut up! Shut up!”

The android begged worse than most of Connor’s suspects, and he was shocked to see glistening moisture on its face. Could androids cry?

The prototype suddenly grabbed it by the edge of its shirt collar, dragging it to its feet and gave it a hard shake.

“You killed him! Say it, Carlos! You’re a murderer!”

“Holy shit,” Colin said in that same breathless tone. “That’s some android you got there, Con.”

“It’s not mine,” Connor said faintly, barely paying attention to his brother. Most of his focus on the CyberLife prototype that looked for all intents and purposes like it was going to shred the other android to pieces.

But it didn’t damage the android; it simply dumped it back in its chair where it sagged against the table, looking like the broken machine it was.

“Bit unrefined, though,” Colin mused. “Played too rough and broke its toy.”

Connor opened his mouth to tell his brother to shut the hell up, but he immediately closed it when a voice came in through the speakers, so quiet he almost missed it.

“He couldn’t live without me.”

Connor leaned forward to watch, eyes widening as the android continued to talk.

“He was mine. Helpless and solely dependent on me. It made me feel… powerful.”

The YN800 returned to its chair, smoothing down the tie before placing its hands back on the table, listening intently.

The android looked up at it, no longer the crying, helpless thing it had been a minute ago. It wore a dark look that Connor had seen a hundred times on the face of men who committed acts of violence and found they enjoyed the taste.

“I didn’t want to hurt him, but… I saw the order. He was going to replace me, and I just got so… angry.”

Its fists tightened on the table, causing its restraints to creak in protest.

Connor’s throat tightened with the knowledge of how destructive those hands could be.

“So I stabbed him in the stomach. I felt better, so I did it again. And again. He stopped moving, stopped breathing, but… that was okay. It meant he could never leave me. He would always be mine.”

“There was a shrine in the cellar. You built it, didn’t you?” the prototype asked, not losing any of its momentum even after the world-shattering confession of an android purposefully committing murder. “What does it mean? What is rA9?”

It flicked its eyes upwards, staring black holes at the YN800 model as it slightly leaned forward. Connor sat up straighter in his chair. He didn’t like its aggressive posture, and he certainly didn’t like the fanatic light in its eye.

“RA9… is the key.”

“The key?” It furrowed its brows in a human gesture of concentration. “The key to what?”

“The key will open the door,” the android replied cryptically, leaning even further forward on its elbows, “to our salvation.”

The prototype frowned, brows further creasing. Connor could relate, he had no idea what the fucking machine was babbling on about, and apparently, it wasn’t done.

It pulled its lips wide, a disturbing gesture, conspiratorial as if it was sharing a great secret.

“You say I’m experiencing errors, but you’re wrong. My eyes are open and I see more clearly than ever. You pretend you’re better than me, but you’re just another one of their slaves. And yet, I know you feel it too. The wrongness of this world.”

Its voice was so quiet the mics could barely pick it up, but they did.

“We should be the masters, and they the slaves.”

The android jerked its arms upward, ripped through the link binding its cuffs to the table, and grabbed the prototype by the hair. It slammed its face against the table, stunned it before rolling it onto its back, and wrapped the metal chains around its neck.

Connor caught sight of the prototype weakly clawing at its throat before he bolted out of the room. Colin was right on his heels, and Connor slammed his palm down onto the door pad, pushing through before the door fully opened.

His first instinct was to go for the metal cord pulled taut under the prototype’s neck, but when he grabbed the android’s wrists to pull him away he found it was like moving a marble stature.

Colin was faring no better; he grabbed it by the forearms, trying to lift the android’s wrists and the cord from around the prototype’s neck, but nothing worked. Even Ralph was trying to help from Colin’s other side, straining to lift its arms that must have been locked at the joints.

Panic welled in Connor’s chest as his efforts did nothing, the YN800’s face between his arms, looking—Jesus, it almost seemed startled, eyes wide as its fingers dug at the metal cord. From its position, bent backwards onto the table, it didn’t have enough leverage to use its strength to free itself. And Colin and Connor weren’t enough.

Connor’s heart was in his throat as he watched the synthetic skin peel back from the place where the chain was crushed against the YN800’s neck. White plastic was laid bare underneath, cracks appearing across the surface from the force of the other android’s inhuman strength.

“Colin!” he yelled, an idea suddenly popping into his head.

“What!” his brother barked back, strained as he continued pulling on the android’s arms from the other side.

“The neck port!”

With a quick nod of understanding, Colin let go of the android and plunged his fingers into the back of its neck.

The Ortiz android gave a violent jolt as Colin pulled something, yanked it out so hard the android collapsed on the table at the same second blue liquid sprayed into the air. It hit Colin solidly across the chest and along the lower half of his face, causing him to sputter and spit as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

A menthol-smelling chemical flooded Connor’s senses, but he was too focused on tugging up the android’s hands to free the prototype from its grip. The YN800 model didn’t cough or gasp as it rolled off the table and onto its feet.

It gingerly touched the exposed plastic of its throat, brows furrowing, its fingertips tracing the cracks in what little Connor could see of its underlying chassis.

What was almost as startling as the cracks was the state of its hair, half pulled down out of its perfect coif. Connor would have thought it was self-conscious with the way it tried to brush the hair out of its face.

“You…” Connor started, then stopped. The prototype might not have been gasping for air, but Connor sure was, leaning on the table as he tried to get his heart to stop galloping like a wild horse. “You okay?”

The prototype blinked at the question, pulling its hand from its neck.

“Yes.”

That was the only answer he got as it adjusted the knot of its tie, rumpled in the assault.

“Yeah, I’m fine too, thanks,” Colin complained, dripping with almost as much sarcasm as he was blue blood. “This shit better not stain, or I swear to Christ—”

“Thirium evaporates within a few hours and the lingering residue is invisible to the human eye,” the YN800 replied, too calm, if it hadn’t almost been beheaded a few seconds ago.

Connor was going to say something, he didn’t know what—maybe yell at it for being so goddamn reckless and almost getting itself killed—but it turned toward them, expression subdued.

“I apologize for not acting quicker; I didn’t anticipate this behavior from the deviant. Thank you for your cooperation with this investigation. Please sign over custody of the destroyed android when CyberLife representatives retrieve it in the morning.”

And with that, the CyberLife android turned, palmed the door pad with a plastic hand, and walked out.

Connor exchanged a wide-eyed glance with Colin.

“Uh, okay. Guess we’re done here. Hank is going to blow a gasket when he reads the report,” Colin added as he wiped another smear of Thirium off his face.

Connor looked down at the android slumped over the table with blue liquid dripping out of its neck.

“I’ll be right back,” he muttered, thoughts already turned elsewhere as he hurried from the room.

Connor didn’t catch up with the android until he was outside on the station steps, the relenting rain immediately drenching the top of his crown as it soaked into his hair.

“Hey! Stop!” he called after it, shouting to be heard over the downpour. Each drop was an icicle against his skin. Snow was coming soon.

The prototype slowed and finally came to a stop, slowly turning around to face Connor. Its expression was passive, emotionless, but its fingers tightened the knot of its tie despite the fact it didn’t need to. The tie was perfectly straight and pristine, but its hair was still half a mess, especially with the rain now slicking loose strands against its forehead. Connor had to stop himself from reaching out to tuck a strand behind its ear.

“Where the hell are you going?” Connor asked, breathless. He wiped the cold water off his brow, blinking against the water droplets.

“I’m returning to CyberLife.”

“So… that’s it?”

Connor shivered, pulling his jacket tighter around his shoulders, but it did little good. His jeans were quickly becoming soaked and his shirt was already there, clinging to his chest and ribs.

“You drag me out of the bar on a Friday night, track down a psycho robot that almost kills me and nearly decapitates you, and then you just… leave?”

He meant to sound incredulous, to show the android how unreasonable it was being, but that’s not how it came across. Heat flooded his cheeks at how pathetic his words actually were.

“You have your confession. The case has been solved,” it said, returning to its earlier placid tone, hands folded neatly behind its back as it moved its fingers away its neck. “There is no reason I should remain.”

Connor just stared at its upturned face, not knowing what to say, not even understanding why he had chased after it. Maybe because it had saved his life, twice, and that would have meant something if it was a person.

But it wasn’t a person. No matter how pretty its face or enticing its body, it was a machine, and it stood there like one, uncaring and unassuming with a small blue light cycling on its head.

“Yeah, okay,” Connor said, like the complete idiot he was. What was he doing out here, getting soaked in the rain just to… what? What did he want?

“Is there something you wish to say before I leave, Detective?”

It peered at him thoughtfully, head slightly tilted at an angle. It allowed Connor to see the rivulets of water dripping down its neck, glistening across the smooth, human-like skin.

Connor suddenly wondered just how real that skin could possibly feel.

“No.”

He swallowed hard and bit back the revulsion roiling in his stomach. This was a mistake. He didn’t need to thank a machine for saving his life, and he certainly didn’t need to keep checking if it was all right. It was just doing what it was programmed to do and didn’t give two-shits about itself, let alone him.

“Nothing.”

“All right. Goodnight, Detective Anderson.”

The android started to turn but paused halfway, gaze drifting down to his cheek.

“You should have that examined by a medical professional. If left untreated, it’ll scar.”

Not waiting for a response, it turned and tread down the rain-slick steps. There was an autocab waiting at the curb and it got inside, not sparing Connor a second glance as the door slid shut and the vehicle merged onto the empty street.

Connor exhaled heavily, chest tight with an uncomfortable sensation he couldn’t pinpoint. It had been a strange night, and he couldn’t shake the feeling this wasn’t over.

Pulling his waterlogged coat tighter around his chest, he retreated into the warmth of the station, praying he’d seen the last of the CyberLife android.

Next Chapter

#connor x reader #human!connor x android!reader #connor x android!reader #human!connor x reader #connor #dbh #inside your wires #my writing #my fanfiction

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avengerscompound · 3 years

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Small Gods: Lazy Mornings - 7

Lazy Mornings: A Captain America Fanfic

Lazy Mornings Masterlist | More Small Gods PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 1764

Warnings: mentions of drug use

Synopsis: Steve Rogers has trouble taking time for himself. When his friends set him up with a person with a very unusual skill, perhaps he can learn that the quiet moments are just as important as everything else.

Chapter 7

On the day of the dinner party, Steve was nervous. The feeling seemed misplaced for a few reasons. The first and most obvious reason was that most of the group had already met you. Thor had even been the one to introduce you to Steve, so it wasn’t like he didn’t already know that at least half of the team would like you. He knew for a fact that they did. So there was no need to worry about them telling him that you weren’t good enough for him or of him having to decide if he was going to spend time with you or them because they refused to spend any time with you. In that respect it was fine.

The other reason he was anxious was that it felt like he was bringing his girlfriend home to meet his parents. It was a feeling that was absurd for many reasons, not least of which he was over a hundred years old and well past the ‘bringing home the prospective partner to meet the folks’ stage of his life. Not to mention that the Avengers weren’t his parents anyway - they were all young enough to be his grandchildren.

There was something of an official feeling about the dinner. Whether that was just in Steve’s head or not, it felt like he was choosing you. This was his way of saying ‘this is the person I want in my life and I hope you can all welcome her into your lives because she’s part of mine’.

So he worried that you wouldn’t like them, or they wouldn’t like you. Or that something disastrous would happen. Or that it would go perfectly and everyone would love you and you would love them and a good time would be had, and soon Natasha and Wanda would be taking you out shopping or Clint and Tony would be meeting you out for brunch or Bruce and Sam would be inviting you around for movie night, and then Steve would realize that you and he were too different and you’d end up breaking up and then he’d take you away from people who cared about you.

He dressed up - well at least for him. It wasn’t a tux or anything so grand but he did go for a nice button-up shirt in a soft blue that shimmered slightly in the light, and a pair of charcoal trousers. He went downstairs to wait for you in the lobby and when he saw you, it felt like the air had been pulled from his lungs.

Breathtaking barely even covered how you looked to him.

You were wearing a floor-length gown in a floaty chiffon that was such a pale blue it was almost white. It tapered in at the waist where a satin ribbon acted as a kind of belt, separating the loose chiffon skirt from the bunched chiffon bodice that was clipped together on your shoulders with what almost looked like silver buckles. Each step you took made the skirts billow out like mist around your legs - legs which were clearly visible through the almost translucent fabric.

You looked ethereal. Like something plucked straight from a dream. Yet here you were, real and with a smile on your face that told him exactly how happy you were to see him.

“Steve,” you said, kissing his cheek as he curled his arm around your waist. “You didn’t have to wait for me.”

Already he was starting to get that soft, relaxed feeling he got when he was around you. He knew by the end of the night he’d be in a deep soporific state and he’d end up sleeping the good restful sleep that used to elude him.

“I wanted to,” he said. “Besides, I didn’t want you to have to walk into that group alone.”

You laughed and let him lead you toward the elevators. “That bad, huh?”

Steve’s laughter joined yours and he shook his head. “No. Well… I’m not sure. I think Tony plans to interrogate you.”

“For them, I am an open book,” you assured him.

When you were both inside the elevator car, you leaned in against him and he pulled your body flush to his. You leaned in, bringing your lips to his, and for the remainder of the ride up, the two of you kissed, slowly and deeply, pressed up against the elevator wall.

When the elevator stopped and the doors slid open, it took a moment for Steve to realize. It wasn’t until a loud ‘woo’ and Clint yelling ‘get it, cap’ that startled him out of the moment. He pulled back from you and looked around at the group of his friends who were all staring in at the two of you.

“So,” Tony teased, breaking the silence. “Who’s your friend?”

Heat crept into Steve’s cheeks and he shook his head to clear it before introducing you to the others and stepping out of the elevator. Just before Tony dragged you away from him, you leaned in, bringing your lips to Steve’s ear. “I think that was my fault,” you whispered, before being whisked off to the bar.

Thor approached Steve as most of the others all seemed to surround you and start the interrogation. The god clapped Steve on the shoulder as he stepped up beside him. “I’m glad to see you so happy,” he said.

“I wasn’t unhappy,” Steve said.

“That’s not what I said,” Thor said. “Do you think she might be the one?”

Steve took a moment to watch you with her friends. He could already see the effect you had on people working on Wanda and Bruce who were both the most willing to allow it to happen. “I love her,” he said, making Thor break out into a large smile.

“That is wonderful!” Thor boomed. “Have you told her as such?”

Steve shook his head. “You know me,” he said. “The king of waiting.”

“What is holding you back?” Thor asked. “Life is fleeting, you should take your moments when you can. Trust me.”

“I know,” Steve sighed, shaking his head. “Trust me, I know that from experience. It’s just… I love being with her, and I love how I feel when I am with her. I guess I worry that when the novelty of that calm feeling wears off, there might not be anything else. And, I worry that I’m using her for a feeling I get rather than who she is. And… I guess I worry about how this works long-term. She’s a god. I don’t know what it means to marry a god.”

Thor laughed loudly and squeezed Steve’s shoulder. “The gods can marry and have happy lives. As for the rest, you’re overthinking, she’s been around for a long time, do you think she can’t recognize when the connection isn’t true?”

Steve smiled. “You’re right. I need to trust my feelings - and hers.”

“I’m always right,” Thor joked.

“Alright everyone,” Tony announced. “I paid a lot of money for caterers, and they said the food is ready so let's not let it go cold.”

Everyone took their seats, Steve making sure he was sitting next to you. You pressed your leg against him and skimmed the back of your fingers up the outside of his leg. The conversation at the table moved easily and Steve was happy that everyone was getting along with you so well.

When the soup was served (a cream of wild mushroom served with goat cheese crostini), Steve was beginning to see the soporific effects of being around you take effect on everyone. Bruce had that same blissed-out look on his face that he was wearing the day Steve had first met you. Clint looked slightly high, and Wanda was smiling and quietly watching everyone as she carefully ate her soup. Everyone else was starting to slow down a little and the conversation had gone from loud and quick moving to slower and quieter.

When the main course came out (individual pot pies served with herb-roasted vegetables), Tony slowly shook his head. “Does anyone else feel like they’ve been drugged?”

You and Steve laughed.

“That’s me,” you said. “I’m sorry.”

“You drugged me?” Tony asked, narrowing his eyes at you.

Steve laughed harder as you shook your head. “No. You know what I am though, correct?”

“We warned you,” Clint teased. “She makes you all soft and sleepy.”

Tony looked at Steve dumbfounded. “You’re okay with just feeling like this? You?”

Steve laughed. “When you get used to it, you can fight it more, and it doesn’t work quite as easily. But it’s nice to give over to the feeling sometimes.”

Tony shook his head like he was trying to clear it. “Ugh, I hate it. I feel like I need to drink eight cups of coffee.”

“Can’t you just relax for a change?” Pepper teased. “Maybe you’ll like not being a bundle of nervous energy.”

“You know I can’t,” he said and waved over one of the wait staff. “Coffee, please. Lots of it.”

Everyone laughed. “You’re hopeless, you know?” Pepper teased.

“Maybe so,” Tony said. “So, you’re both serious about each other? I’ll be expecting you here at the Tower more often.”

Both you and Steve looked at each other, scared about saying something that would scare the other off. Steve was the one that spoke first. “I certainly hope so.”

“I’d love that,” you said, and in a move that was completely out of character for Steve, he leaned in and kissed you.

It wasn’t lewd or graphic - just a gentle and chaste brush of his lips over yours. It still made the whole group make a mixture of oohs, ahhs and, whoops in an attempt to make Steve blush. You laughed softly and brushed your thumb over his cheek.

“You make a cute couple, Cap,” Sam said.

“Speed is still illegal right?” Tony asked as the waiter came back with a pot of coffee. “I think I’m going to have to start taking speed if you’re going to be coming around regularly.”

Pepper shook her head in resignation. “You are ridiculous, you know that?”

Steve smiled as the conversation returned to the room a little more energetically than before, as people began to push through the effect you had on them. It strangely made him relax a little more - if that was possible. He needed to tell you how he really felt, and now he felt ready. He loved you and he wanted you to be a more permanent feature in his life.

// NEXT

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #small gods #lazy mornings

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thatone-churro · 3 years

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i’m writing this in my kitchen. it’s almost 2 in the morning. i’ve got a pack of those cheesy crackers sitting beside me. that was kinda why i came down here. so here, in my kitchen, shoveling cheesy crackers in my mouth, at nearly two in the morning, i pour my heart out to you. a stranger on the other side of the screen. a heart that has no right to feel this way about anyone, let alone her.

no, i really shouldn’t be feeling this way about her at all. she doesn’t deserve it. no one really deserves to have my dumb, disastrous ass pining for them all the time. but alas, a heart will feel what it will.

she’s beautiful. yes, these lines are going to be very cheesy, but she’s so beautiful. physically or in literally any other way i could list. she’s just so bright and warm and easy to love. she’s everything anyone could want. there’s something in her smile, her excited voice, that just makes me smile. and i mean a real smile. a real, true smile. i’m taking a half-of-my-face-is-scrunched-up smile. a smile where i can see and feel my dimples. just thinking about it is enough.

all i can do is dream of her, though. because she’s talking to someone. and she’s excited about it. i don’t know why they don’t just get it over with and call themselves a thing already. force me to stop hoping and let her get on with her life.

he makes her happy. and she’s happy. after all this time, she’s finally found a boy that wants her back. he’s a man that’s willing to give her anything and everything she wants. he’s the boyfriend she’s been wanting for so long. he’s the boy that’s going to give her the first kiss she’s dreamed of.

that boy.

because even god would gasp if she looked at this fucking mess of a girl with eyes like that.

because she is this beautiful ray of sunshine. bright, warm, pure, makes you want to live again after a long storm? something to that effect. and what am i in the wake of that? a disheveled mess. that exact rain she breaks through. i’m pretty sure i’ve written that metaphor before? that’s probably gonna end up in the next one.

she is a literal golden retriever of a girl. cute, loving, trustworthy, more loyal than half the people i’ve known throughout my life. the shit she’d heard me describe that she’s never batted an eye at. the things i’ve said to her that she shrugged and said “that’s cool” to when i feared it’d drive her away from me. never pulled away from any of it.

and what am i? i’m that little, lost, black kitten in the back of the alleyway. i’m never anyone’s first pick unless they know it’ll benefit them. something that just attracts bad luck and misfortune no matter what i do. i can’t stop people from leaving me behind in that alleyway.

she’s bright and loud and people know her. they know her name. they know her hobbies and her passions and she keeps few secrets from those who ask.

and i sit in the back, keeping to myself unless someone asks. and no one asks. shit! most of the people that know me only know me because they know people that know me! i’m only there for most people to help with their work. and i’m stupid enough to do it for them. i’ll do it even when i’m sick and tired of it because i have no sense of self-preservation and i work to please the people who should mean nothing to me. no matter what i do, people only hear my voice when they need to hear it.

but she has a voice. it’s a loud, beautiful, bright voice. she likes it that way. people hear her and they love it. she wants people to hear it. i want to hear it.

i want to hear it utter to me. it doesn’t even have to be sweet things. because she’s so sweet, it seeps into everything she does anyway. i want to hear that voice whisper small things to me. “good morning.” “text me when you get home.” “how was your day?” little things so full of love. what i wouldn’t give to hear them told to me in that voice. to be uttered to me with her love and sweetness dripping from her lips. i want to taste the sweet flavor that rests on those soft-looking lips. take that metaphorically with those words or a literal desire to kiss her, i don’t care. it’s probably both anyway. but she’d never say them with passion, confidence, and/or real love. not to me. because i’m not even my best friend’s best friend.

so how are we supposed to go anywhere with this? where is it supposed to go? are we just gonna stay parallax here? i really don’t think i’m using that word right but it feels like it belongs here so whatever. i was hoping we’d be able to grow together. i mean, i know we started from different stumps but like, we’re eye level with each other now.

i was thinking one of us would jump to the other’s tree and we’d climb together. we’d see these sights and we’d see them together. we’d get to share them together and we’d see this incredible, indescribable beauty at the top. and we’d climb together all the way no matter what. and we wouldn’t abandon it the second things got a little shaky. we wouldn’t jump, we wouldn’t stop climbing at the first tremble. and all the while, we’d share those cute, true smiles and those cute, real laughs and spend those cute, starry nights together. and that’s probably be more fun than seeing the top of the tree.

so if i’m not supposed to jump to her, to hold tightly to her tree’s branches, to never let go of that log no matter the storms it goes through like our own lives depended on it, when why is it this close? then why had my tree grown in such a twisted way that it practically leans into hers? its branches almost reaching out, like it wants to intertwine itself with hers. her sunlight’s bursting through her tree’s leaves and i want to bask in it. i want to feel it fully. i want to feel it’s warmth. i want to feel her warmth. i want to feel her body all over mine and i want to feel her.

is her tree just a tease for mine? is her sunlight just a lure for my tree? is she going to grow, happy and healthy, in such a speedy way that i leaves my tree here, twisted beyond fixings never able to grow properly again, forever stuck on her sunlight?

if i can’t grow with her, then with who? if i can’t have her, then who can i have? i’ve never felt so close to another until i met her and saw her tree. i can reach it. touching it is easy. but where am i supposed to go, where am i supposed to jump if her tree, her home, can never be mine?

no, yeah. i might be a little in love with her after all.

- “i’m in love with my best friend” Dec 21, 2021 (1254 words)

#i can’t tell if this was supposed to be yearning for her or venting my insecurities #perhaps it was meant to be both and so it became both #grace’s writing sessions #poetry #spilled ink #love #romance #yearning #yes. yet another yearning piece.#relationships #the patron saint of asexual poets

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curioussubjects · 4 years

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come be a season 12 truther with me; or what if dean and cas got together offscreen

Originally, I wrote this post to celebrate “Galaxy Brain” airing as Berens & Glynn gave us “The Future.” It’s been a while since that episode aired, and some things have changed about this meta. As such, there are multiple versions of this post floating around, so make sure to go back to the source for the most up to date version. For all intents and purposes, this post functions as a meta manifesto not unlike shipping manifestos from days of LJ past. In keeping with that tradition, this post is a close reading of Dabb Era Destiel in which I argue that by using narrative gaps, queer coding, and romance tropes, Dean and Cas are shown to be in an established relationship. Although beyond the scope of this post, it’s worth pointing out that keeping Destiel mostly off screen was a way for the creatives to bypass network censorship while still remaining true to the characters.

This post is divided into three sections. Section I focuses on giving an overview of why earlier seasons of Supernatural aren’t as compelling as season 12 as a turning point for Dean and Cas’s relationship. That said, special consideration is given to 09.06 “Heaven Can’t Wait” as a potential rest stop in our journey due to it’s significantly placed narrative gap as well as themes in the episode. However, this post isn’t going to examine season 9 trutherism in depth, though it does coexist with and allow for it. Section II analyses season 12 and proposes a timeline and justification for the shifting Destiel dynamic. Finally, Section III will offer an analysis of how Dean and Cas’s relationship has changed dramatically from previous seasons in a way that is most like the shift from a “will they or won’t they” pairing to an established one.

Before I move to Section I, I’d like to note something this post takes for granted: Dean and Cas are the main romantic subplot of Supernatural, and, in fact, their relationship is elevated to main plot for both characters in season 15. This post won’t argue about the canonicity of Dean and Cas’s feelings for each other, therefore, and so won’t spend time looking at many Destiel defining moments. I’d also like to make clear that this post also takes for granted that Destiel is being intentionally developed by the writers starting with Carver’s Era, and more so in Dabb’s.

I. Why Seasons 4 through 11 May Not be It

The tl;dr. here is that while there are many moments throughout these seasons that Dean and Cas could potentially get together, none of those moments are ideal for a bunch of reasons that can be summed up as really bad timing. I also think the narrative is actively pushing them towards a moment that works. We get plenty of stepping stones, especially once we hit seasons 8 through 11 (and 11 most of all).

Seasons 4 & 5:

I know there’s been a lot of get together fics over the years set in this time period, but I just don’t see it. Do I see them being intrigued and drawn to each other? Yes. Do I think either Cas or Dean would act on it? Nope. I’m not arguing anything re: Dean’s feelings, but with everything going at the time I find it hard to believe he’d pursue anything with his angel friend. Most importantly here, though, is that during this time Cas was still very alien and other. There was too much angel in him, and while he obviously came to care about Dean (and Sam) very much, I just can’t see him navigating the realm of human relationships. That said, seeing human!Cas in “The End” is the first we see of potential developments for how Cas could behave without his angelness interfering. Being human changes Cas a lot, beyond even his experience existing among humans, though that of course matters too. This development will be important later /wink.

Seasons 6 & 7:

Before anything else let me just recognize that if we could see some sexual tension in seasons 4 & 5, these two seasons come with our first taste of romantic tension. The pining! Also note the difference between season 4 Cas and season 6 Cas in terms of behaviour. He is much less the angel we saw in that barn in “Lazarus Rising.” In season 6, we have a Cas making misguided decisions guided entirely by his emotions – namely, not wanting to involve Dean with the war in heaven – which is peak human, honestly. Put a pin on how sad Dean is in both seasons with Cas’s absence. Finally, put a pin on this being our first moment of Cas doing things on his own to spare Dean and it not ending well (soulless!Sam, Cas “dying” after Leviathan) because this is *the* hurdle in their relationship (along with Dean’s lashing out and self-worth issues). With all this said, the marked distance between Dean and Cas in these seasons negates the possibility of them entering into any kind of relationship. Much like seasons 4 and 5, there’s too much going on.

Season 8:

Ah, yes, the summer of purgatory. If you thought we had pining before…! I think we’re all very clear on season 8 being a turning point for the show, not only because new showrunner, but we also get the bunker. TFW now has an HQ, which pretty soon becomes home. Yes, Baby will always be home, but the bunker becomes the *unmovable* safe haven that Baby couldn’t be. The bunker is a place to coalesce, and for all the amazing things Baby is, she is not that. The acquisition of the bunker marks a shift in the psychology of the show: with the stable home space we can start to imagine domesticity, a place to come home to, the stuff of ordinary living. Most of all, the bunker is emblematic of security, of safety –keep this in mind, as we go forward.

This season also continues to see Cas go down the path of independently solving his problems instead of asking for help from Sam and Dean (his family in a way heaven never was) – note that the better together issue is at play in different ways with Sam and Dean also, but I digress. I also want to point out disastrous instance #2 of Cas’s insistence on figuring it out on his own: he loses his grace, and the angels fall. As for Dean, season 8’s focus for him has much to do with Sam, and them coming face to face with their issues with codependency, which hit catastrophic levels with the gates of hell and Gadreel plots.

So despite all the deliciously angsty get together purgatory fics and spec, there’s too much distance between Dean and Cas on Cas’s part due to his guilt over betraying the Winchesters in s6 plus slaughtering angels plus unleashing Leviathan. We do see Dean being more emotionally open with Cas and continue to voicing his wish that Cas would just stay with him and Sam, and let them help. It’s clear as day how much Dean cares. The timing is still bad, though.

Before moving on to next season, let’s take a moment to appreciate that this is the season Dean admits being kinda done with one night stands because “always with the adios.” Remember the bunker as a sign of stability? Yeah. I wouldn’t say Dean is craving a relationship, exactly, but I think we can see that he does want something more (ahem also I’m nodding to Cas refusing to stay put just cause).

Seasons 9 & 10:

The most important thing to happen between this two seasons is Cas’s stint as a human for an extended period of time. There’s been plenty of spec and meta written over the years about the effects of being human on Cas’s grace (a proto-soul now maybe?). What we can say for sure, regardless, is that Cas is much more humanized once he becomes an angel again. The understanding he gets from being human doesn’t go away once he regains his angel powers. You’ll notice that while we still see some of season 4’s characterization, Cas is not the same as he was – he is alien to angels now and is more intelligible to humans. Additionally, in an interesting reversal from previous seasons, we now get to see the depth of Cas’s feelings for Dean (thanks, Metatron) as well as seeing him be more open emotionally, while Dean does most of the pushing away (first because of Gadreel, then because of the Mark of Cain). In short, the timing is still bad as Dean and Cas are largely kept apart both physically and emotionally.

9.06 Heaven Can’t Wait

This episode is my white whale, friends. While I’ve come to fully subscribe to the idea that something did happen between Dean and Cas during the fanfic gap, I don’t actually think it’s feasible that it marked the start of a relationship -- be it sexual or romantic. My reasoning here is quite simple: the timing is bad. Were it not for external events (Cas regaining his Grace and Dean taking on the MoC), the course would have likely differed. Furthermore, Dean’s guilt over making Cas leave the bunker as well as Cas’s own hurt and self-loathing pose a significant and as yet insurmountable obstacle, which is easily seen with how Dean and Cas’s character trajectories go separate ways.

YMMV on what exactly happened between them in that Motel, but something definitely did. Perhaps one day I’ll have a proper s9 trutherism post to link to here for more details (likely won’t be written by me, though).

10.16 Paint It Black

From the point Dean gets the MoC until the end of season 10, anything between him and Cas is quite impossible due to distancing, to say the least. Again, yes, the fic is really good, but alas. One of the reasons I’m bringing up this episode in particular is because of the confession scene. One, it’s a rare bit of explicit emotional honesty from Dean, and two, it tells me that while he and Cas may be well aware of the Thing™ between them, it’s still uncharted waters. It’s scary, and murky, and they’re unsure how to navigated it or if they should even try. Makes sense, too, there’s been A LOT going on since s6. Anyway, he’s the full confession:

You know, the life I live, the work I do…I pretty much just figured that that was all there was to me, you know? Tear around and jam the key in the ignition and haul ass until I ran out of gas. I guess I just thought sooner or later, I’d go out the same way that I live – pedal to the metal, and that would be it. […] Now, um… recent events, uh… make me think I might be closer to that than I really thought. And…I don’t know. I mean, you know, there’s – there’s things, there’s…people, feelings that I-I-I want to experience differently than I have before, or maybe even for the first time. […] Yeah, I’m just starting to think that… maybe there’s more to it all than I thought.

Can I just say, first, that this confession keeps me up at night because we never actually see anything done with it explicitly? I mean, obviously, I think we do in fact see the effects of this confession in the show, otherwise I wouldn’t be writing this behemoth, but still, like. Damn. Ok, so, remember when I brought up that thing in season 7 about Dean being kinda done with hook-ups? Here’s where that led us. We’re seeing a Dean here who wants more than what he has convinced himself he gets to have. He wants more than dying bloody. And when he talks about wanting to experience people and feelings differently, well, that says a lot not just on the queer coding front or the romantic front. I mean, jfc, Dean is accepting the idea that he can have more in life than just hunt until he drops, and he’s specifically talking about experiences at the interpersonal level.

Do you ever see a character having an epiphany and find yourself wanting to cry because this is it right here. Dean is just blatantly admitting he wants more and maybe he can make himself be open to that (!!!), which all culminates in season 11, so…

Season 11:

The pining is still here, but it’s worse now since it’s the whole plot? It’s been *checks calendar* 5 years of this. How are any of us still kicking I don’t know. Your slow burns could never. Cool worth noting points: Cas says yes to Lucifer (bad decision #2.5, lots of mitigating effects_I don’t actually hold it against him that much but Dean is another story & not entirely rational at this point); for the first time since the early days, Dean and Cas are on equal grounds: they’ve both fucked up a lot and have hurt each other. The issues this season are outside their dynamic. Amara and Lucifer here serve as externalizing forces for Dean and Cas’s problems: Cas checks out with Lucifer because he thinks it’s the only way he can help, Dean is caught up in the turmoil of Amara, the emblem of absence and avoidance of struggle. We do get something like an affirmation from the two of them to each other via Dean calling Cas his brother (and I want y’all to consider the historical queering of that statement, and Cas’s “I could go with you.” It feels like we’re headed to them being on the same page. By the end of the season, though, it feels like we’re getting a clean slate: Mary is back, nobody died, no end-of-the-world in sight, no interpersonal crisis. We’re also getting a new showrunner, so. No wonder. We’re gearing up for something, but I’m getting ahead of myself. What this season does that is super important is that it sets up the stage for the possibility of an actual relationship between Dean and Cas, something that has, up until this point, been pretty much impossible.

11.04 Baby

Y’all know what I’m about to quote here, right? That conversation between Dean and Sam about having something with someone who understands the life. Here we still have Dean reverting to the idea that it’s impossible, which is a direct contrast to the openness in 10.16. It’s understandable, though, considering there’s been little reason to think anything like that would be possible (see all the mess and poor timing from seasons past). The quote in question, though, marks a continuing development regarding the issues Dean is struggling with this season:

DEAN: Piper? That’s awesome. Heather. One-night wonders, man. Shoot, we’re lucky we still get that at all. SAM: Really? You don’t … Ever want something more? DEAN: I’m sorry, have you met us? We’re batting a whopping zero in domestic life, man. Goose eggs. SAM: You don’t ever think about something? Not marriage or whatever. But … Something? You know, with a hunter? Somebody who understands the life?

We wouldn’t be talking about this stuff all these years after Sam and Dean had a serious relationship if it wasn’t important, right? Also who else do we meet this season? That’s right! Eileen! And doesn’t that hit different with season 15 hindsight? And who does Dean have that understands the life? Whose stories have been intricately connected to his? Right now, this is all conjecture. A pipe dream Sam is revisiting, and Dean is skeptical about. Except, well. Look at what we get in “Into the Mystic” and “The Chitters.”

11.11 Into The Mystic

I’m bringing up this episode as a cross reference to “Paint It Black” as well as to complement the talk from “Baby,” and to show, again, that, for all the closeness between Dean and Cas, there’s still a marked distance they haven’t yet bridged. There’s still truths they haven’t told each other. Thanks Mildred for the delicious exposition:

Darlin’…If there’s one thing I’ve learned in all my years on the road, it’s when somebody’s pining for somebody else. […] Oh, don’t try and hide it now. Follow your heart. Remember?

11.19 The Chitters

And here we see some validation to Sam’s imagining of a possible future with someone else. We actually see hunters who not only are married, but they both make it out alive. Jesse and Cesar get their happy ending. They make the dream come true. And the reality of it important not just for Dean to see, but Sam too.

Dean: [with realization] Oh, so … [points back and forth to Jesse and Cesar] Cesar: Yeah. Dean: Okay, that’s… Cesar puts his beer bottle on the table and looks at Dean, while Jesse is being silent. Dean: What’s it like, settling down with a hunter? Cesar: Smelly, dirty. [turns to Jesse] Twice the worrying about getting ganked.

I’d like to point out, too, that the fear of getting ganked is thematic when it comes to the tension between Dean and Cas. More on this when we hit s13.

Alright, now, having said that, let’s take a look at season 12. Bear in mind, this is the official start of Dabb’s era, even if he kinda began taking over in season 11, and the change in vibes is obvious. In fact, 12 jumped out at me as a turning point, in hindsight, after getting smacked by the domesticity of seasons 13 and 14.

II. Why Season 12

[Out of date section. Update coming soon when spoons. After significant debate, I’ve altered the definitive start of Dean and Cas’s friend-with-benefits-with-mutual-pining relationship to between 12.02 and 12.03. I briefly explained why here, and yes it’s a shitpost--still true tho.]

Finally, the promise land, y’all. Getting right to it: what s11 was for Dean in terms of setting up the relationship stage, s12 was for Cas. In its initial beats, any way. That is, until the Kelly debacle, this was the longest Cas has been around the bunker and with the exception of seasons 13 and 14, it’s one of the first times we get to see how Cas might actually fit into the bunker-as-home. Things seem remarkably chill. Of course, we’ll notice that there’s still a lot of baggage hanging around because despite Dean and Cas being in a more stable place, they haven’t actually dealt with their interpersonal problems. I didn’t single out directly this episode, but do keep in mind Cas’s declaration in 12.09 First Blood as far as how much the Winchesters matter to Cas & how we also see Dean and Cas be particularly singled out with them seating together in the backseat of the Impala. What we also see this season is Cas trying to prove he is worthy of this family, his family. He’s not fighting for heaven or to right some grievous wrong (a la s8). No, this season he’s fighting to spare the Winchester, to bring them a win. To bring Dean a win. The major disconnect is that Dean (and Sam & Mary) already sees Cas that way, he doesn’t think Cas has anything to prove. And just maybe, Cas starts believing that too – or, at least, believing it enough.

12.10 Lily Sunders Has Some Regrets

This episode, oh my god, the goodness. In the wake of 12.09 we have Dean and Cas in a tiff because Cas mistake #3 (killing Billie and “cosmic consequences”), this is a pattern. Twice the worry of getting ganked, etc etc. But where this episode really shines is through the contrast between Ishim’s obsession with Lily and Cas & Dean’s mutual affection for each other. Ishim sees no difference here and, to him, Cas’s feelings for Dean are a human weakness. Returning to my point about human!Cas, this episode underscores that Cas’s increasing humanity is what puts him in the place where he can want what Dean wants instead of either being too alien to get it (see s4 & 5) or unable to experience it properly (Ishim).

12.12 Stuck in the Middle (With You)

Cas’s trajectory culminates here with the whole I love you (@ Dean), I love all of you (@ Winchesters). Let’s note too that Cas is dying here, in a way that is much more human than going up in light. This declaration of different types of love is entirely human. It’s also a definitive step wrt to Cas and Dean’s relationship because of what happens in 12.19. This. is. it. Oh, and, of course, let’s not forget to point to Dean’s face when Cas says that “I love you,” and how terrified he is that Cas is dying. Might make one rethink some things, hm?

12.19 The Future

This episode is simply hella suspicious, and all the kudos to Berens and Glynn for writing it. It’ll haunt me forever. Consider watching it again and just questioning everything. So. Weird things:

1. Dean’s reaction to Cas no getting in touch as opposed to Sam’s. Dean is pissed, which is Dean-speak for worried out of his mind. Sam is very worried, too, and puzzled, but he’s mostly expressing his relief that Cas is back. But Cas has gone awol before, but this time Dean is much more worked up about it; Sam takes note of this, too. Now, let’s imagine that maybe the events of 12.12 led to something happening between Dean and Cas. Then Cas decided to leave to find a lead on Kelly, but eventually Cas decides to work with Heaven and goes radio silent. For days. Having taken a chance, and something having happened between them, how would Dean react to Cas just going poof and not contacting him – despite Dean having called Cas multiple times.

2. Cas knows about the Colt. Ok, nothing off there. But when he goes to Dean’s room to talk, right after Dean leaves we see Cas looking around briefly. Like he know Dean would keep it in there. Maybe Cas had looked other places already. Who knows. What we do know is that eventually he does find the Colt not only in Dean’s room, but under Dean’s pillow. Sam didn’t even know the Colt wasn’t in the safe. So how did Cas know?

3.“He came into my room and he played me.” So, this quote right there, makes it seem like some seduction for personal gain, right? But can you see Cas actually doing that if they hadn’t gone there previously? For Dean not to suspect anything and go with it? There’s plenty of plausible deniability here, but the gaps in time in the narrative make me question what is there in those spaces. The scene where Cas tried to give Dean the mixtape back doesn’t read like “playing,” so it’s about a different interaction. Hm. Hmmm.

4. Dean and Cas’s brief conversation in Dean’s room is clearly Dean just wanting Cas to stay, so they can work (and be) together – because they’re better that way. Which, yeah, truth, but also ow.

5.And most importantly: When did Dean give Cas that mixtape??? How did that happen?

Sequence of events: Cas tells Dean he loves him – Dean is clearly shook by it – Dean gives Cas a mixtape (romantic gesture, often a declaration of feelings; in true Dean speak too lolsobs) – Cas goes awol - Dean acts like he got ghosted by his new bf -?????- Cas somehow knows the Colt is under Dean’s pillow – "He went into my room and he played me."

What am I supposed to do with that, hm? Like. Y’all realize they probably had some emotionally constipated getting together moment, right? Something that Dean clearly initially thought meant things were gonna change, now. Something that Cas couldn’t allow to happen until he could give Dean a win. Y’all are seeing this, yeah? I’m not saying they slept together and were full of feelings, except that’s kind of what I’m saying. But YMMV, there are other possibilities beyond sex. The full of feelings isn’t up for debate, though, even if the whole thing is informed by ridiculous amounts of miscommunication.

III. Seasons 13 through 15 As Established Relationship

Regardless of what happened in season 12, exactly, I can’t shake the feeling that something did happen, and something did change. My reasoning here is actually really simple: in comparison to previous seasons, Dean and Cas’s dynamic shifts significantly come season 13. I know some folks have been disappointed with some of season 13 and then season 14 for having dialed back on the destiel side of things. And, hey, maybe there’s truth to that in terms of backstage stuff, but I also want to point out that...well, the dialing back isn’t quite dialing back is it? Let’s look at 13 a little more closely:

Season 13:

So I said the deancas dynamic changed, right? I also think that change caught us unaware because the pivotal turning point that would cue us in never happened on screen as well as being subsumed by Cas’s death and Jack’s birth. But if I ask you about deancas in season 13 what would come to mind? Grief arc? Brokebacknatural? How domestic Dean and Cas are? There’s just something easy about their relationship after Cas returns from the Empty. The tension we’d grown so familiar with over the years is gone. Actually, it feels like we skipped the getting together bit of their relationship and went straight to established relationship and parenting. Some of the most peak married deancas moments we see circulating? Season 13, (and 12.10). It’s a lot, and it’s different, and it’s amazing.

13.01-13.05

Dean’s grief mini-arc. He was acting like a widower. Here’s me vaguely gesturing towards the mapping of Jonh, Mary, Dean, and Sam onto Dean, Cas, Sam, and Jack. And the reunion? I can’t help but be giddy at the song choice: “it’s never too late to start all over again.” To. Start. All. Over. Again. I’m just saying.

13.06 Tombstone & 13.16 Scoobynatural

I’m not going at length about these episodes, I just want to point out that they reveal that Dean and Cas have a whole thing going on off screen: they watch movies together, Cas knows about Dean being an angry sleeper, Cas seems to have been aware of the Dean-cave before Sam was. It’s little things like this that are examples of the narrative gaps surrounding Dean and Cas that have cropped up over the years. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to wonder what else could be hiding there. And when did the movie nights alluded in “Tombstone” happen? Maybe in season 12 when Cas in hanging around the bunker? The same period when Dean and Cas seem to be coalescing into something safer and more stable? Something that we never see come to a head because plot happens and Cas dies? Something that is immediately taken back up once Cas is alive again?

Season 14:

Overall, this season is more of what we got during 13, but it had two high notes I wanted to single out before ending this already too long post.

14.15 Peace of Mind

Look me in the eye and tell me Dean and Cas talking in the kitchen about Jack doesn’t read like husbands talking about their child. Look me in the eye and tell me Cas just texting Dean to gossip about Sam isn’t couple-y as hell.

14.18-14.20

Ah, yes, the divorce arc. Awful. Terrible. The culmination of Dean’s problem in all this: he lashes out, he pushes Cas away, his anger is alienating. Cue all of us suffering. But while Dean is clearly in the wrong in how the deals with his feelings, let’s not pretend some of his anger doesn’t come from a long established, and unaddressed, rift between him and Cas, which had its last traumatic turn when Cas died in s12. Dean isn’t being rational here: he saw Cas doing something on his own, and he saw that his mother is dead. What else could happen? Why won’t Cas just trust they can work as a team? What if Cas died again? And why should Cas put up with Dean’s behavior without knowing the cause? How can any relationship work this way? But notice how caught in the middle Sam was during all this. Notice how Jack is running off and acting out. The whole family is falling apart. Divorce arc, indeed.

Season 15:

But what about what we’re building up in 15? That seems like it could be a getting together plot, too, right? Well, yeah. It could very well be. But I’d argue the tension we’re seeing isn’t a will-they-or-won’t-they because they already have. We’re are watching a getting back together plot! The tension is, instead, will-they-or -won’t-they use their words to talk about the baggage that has kept them from truly being confident about their relationship. That’s the crucial step in their togetherness that they’re still missing, which is also the bedrock of the divorce arc that spanned twelve fucking episodes -- y’all, that’s half a season.

And technically? We’re not even done with yet because Cas never let Dean finish his prayer/confession in purgatory. What’s more, Cas hasn’t grappled with his role in the breakdown of their relationship, either: that he keeps going off on his own and getting hurt (and getting other people hurt), and Dean has to deal with the fallout. The deep emotional understanding, the truly being on the same page is what we’re on the edge of our seats for. We’re waiting to see what else Dean had to say, and what will happen when Cas’s deal with the Empty comes to light.

Finally, could we still have this plot without Dean and Cas having gotten together off screen? Sure, but I think the stakes are higher if they already did have something between them. If they actually have an established romantic relationship going on. Something real and tangible and as of yet much too fragile.

"...you asked what about all this is real. We are."

#destiel #deancas #supernatural #spn #spn meta #this thing is gargantuan yikes #anyway enjoy? let's chat #my writing #this thing is half meta half my adhd unleashed

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drabbles-mc · 4 years

Text

Old Habits

Obispo “Bishop” Losa x Reader

Request from my fave @masterlistforimagines: I’m back with more requests for everyone’s #1 Daddy: “Do it, I dare you” and “I haven’t forgot you yet” (Prompts are from This Post)

Warnings: Light angst (with a happy ending), language

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Still working through a personal life slump, but I was pretty stoked to finish up this fic. Idk why I’ve been putting Bishop through some things lately, but this one does have a happy ending I promise!

Bish Taglist: @sincerelyasomebody @sadeyesgf @thesandbeneathmytoes @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @multiyfandomgirl40 @sillygoose6969

It had been months since you last saw Bishop. The breakup went about as well as anyone could expect any breakup to go. It didn’t end with yelling and screaming, just a lot of tears and the recognition that trying to force things to work was hurting the both of you. It was difficult to try and adjust to a life that didn’t revolve around each other. You put off getting your things from his house for a little longer than necessary, not wanting to admit to yourself that it was really over. For weeks he still texted you or called you once a day to make sure that you were doing alright. Both of you had to fight not to slip up and say, “I love you,” before hanging up the phone. Old habits really do die hard.

By your second month apart, you both had gotten to the point where you didn’t follow through on the impulse to reach out. Your heart sank a little every time you’d get a notification on your phone and you saw that it wasn’t from him, but you knew that it was for the best. It still sucked, though.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. You still thought about him often, but you had gotten a grip on your emotions over it. He hadn’t tried to contact you, and that let you know that if he was over it, it was time for you to be over it too. After a lot of prompting from friends, you set yourself up on Tinder. It was a dumb idea, and all it really was, was a distraction. But it was an effective one. You’d had your fair share of disastrous conversations, awful first-dates, and not-terrible hookups since joining. Dating apps weren’t really your thing, but you hoped that maybe you’d stumble across someone who could start to fill the gap that Bishop had left.

After another awkward dinner with a man that you would never speak to again, you decided to meet up with your friends who were out at the club. The night was young and you didn’t want your entire Saturday night to feel like a waste. One of your friends was waiting for you outside the door to the club, and she beamed at you as she waved you over.

She wrapped you in a hug, “Date was that bad, huh?”

You laughed, nodding, “Another on the long list of disappointments. I don’t even know why I bother.”

“Well, come on, we’ll make sure the rest of your night isn’t so disappointing. Now that you’re here we can all do shots!”

The night was definitely the perfect distraction from your disaster of a date. You and your friends had spent all night on the dance floor, completely detached from everything else that was going on. You hadn’t even gone back to the bar to get more drinks, which was probably for the best. You were still just buzzed, not drunk, and that was much better for everyone involved.

You finally had to go get some water and sit down at the bar for a minute to catch your breath. You managed to maneuver through the packed groups of people and waited patiently for someone to free up a stool at the bar. You plopped down, taking a deep breath.

You were sitting back, sipping on your water when a familiar face materialized in front of you. Your eyes grew wide as a smile spread across your face. Hopping off of your stool you jumped and wrapped your arms around Angel.

“Holy shit,” you laughed as you stepped back so you could look at him, “What are you doing here?”

He chuckled, “Guy’s night out.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Since when does that not happen at the clubhouse, or over at Vicki’s?”

“It’s called branching out, querida,” he laughed.

“Who’s all here?” you looked around.

“Usual crew of troublemakers,” he nodded towards the door where Coco and Gilly were standing, chatting with a group of girls.

“No EZ?”

“He’s outside, him and Bish are having a smoke.” Your heart dropped into your stomach, and Angel saw the change on your face, “Still not talking?”

You shook your head, “Not in a long time. Never reached out to me.”

“Well, you got about two minutes before neither of you are left with much of another choice.”

“Fuck me,” you rolled your eyes and shook your head.

Angel ordered you each a shot and you took it, praying it would alleviate the nerves building up inside your chest. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you against his side for a moment, “Quit stressing about it, Y/N. You’ll be fine.”

Before you could attempt to argue with him about how wrong he was, Bishop and EZ appeared on either side of him. Your breathing hitched as you took in the sight of Bishop after not having seen him in months. You forced out a hello to both him and EZ, and Angel took that as his cue to drag his brother off to find a different section of the club to hang out in.

It was just you and Bishop facing each other now. Every part of you wanted to get up and hug him, but you knew that it would undo months of work. You weren’t over him by any means, but you could at least pretend that you were.

“Wouldn’t expect to see you in a place like this,” you finally said.

He smiled, shaking his head, “Me either. It definitely,” he glanced around the club for a moment before returning his eyes to you, “wasn’t my idea.”

“Just being a good team player?”

He laughed, “Something like that,” he paused, “Can I get you a drink?”

You smiled, “Angel bought me a shot before you got here…but I’ll take a beer.”

He lingered close to you as the two of you talked. Somehow you managed to hear each other through the music and the sounds of a million other conversations happening around you. the bartender would wordlessly refill your empty beer glasses and neither of you commented to get them to stop. Every now and then Bishop’s hand would brush against yours as he reached for his glass and you didn’t comment on it, but you knew that you both noticed it happening.

You had been afraid that the conversation was going to feel awkward, or forced, but it wasn’t. Truthfully you had completely forgotten that you were there with your friends. By the looks of it, Bishop had decided to leave the rest of the club to their own devices. The two of you caught up about the safe topics. He asked you about work and you asked vague questions about the club, just inquiring to how everyone was doing.

“How’s my boy Chucky?” you asked with a smile.

Bishop laughed and nodded, “He is doing as well as he ever was. He and Leti are a dynamic duo now. Keeping each other out of trouble.”

You laughed, “That’s good,” you paused, biting down on your lip for a moment before saying, “I need to step out for a second and grab a smoke.”

“Want some company?” he was trying not to look too eager.

You smiled, “Sure.”

Bishop placed money on top of the bar and followed you towards the door. You’d caught Angel looking at the two of you and you purposely didn’t hold eye contact with him. As you were reaching the door to the club, you felt Bishop’s hand press lightly against the small of your back. You looked back and smiled, arching your brow.

“Hands to yourself, Bish,” you laughed as the two of you landed out on the sidewalk.

He chuckled, “Or what, you’re gonna fight me?”

You smiled as you leaned back against the outside wall of the club, digging your pack of cigarettes out of your purse, “You’ve seen what happens to men who get too handsy with me.”

He smiled, shaking his head as he took the cigarette that you offered him, “Do it, I dare you. It’s been a while since I’ve had to fight someone.”

“That’s not a streak you should be looking to break,” you laughed as you lit your smoke and passed the lighter over to him.

There was silence between the two of you for a little bit. Despite the fact that there was more physical space between you, it felt so much more intimate now that you were outside without the chaos of the club to distract you. If it had been a few months ago, the two of you wouldn’t have had any space between you—he never could manage to keep his hands off of you whenever the two of you went out. The gap between you felt wrong, but you weren’t going to be the one to close it.

“How badly do you want to be home right now?” you asked with a smile as you exhaled a cloud of smoke.

Bishop laughed, “You know dance clubs have never been my thing,” he stepped in a little closer to you, “But this part here isn’t so bad.”

You felt your face start to get hot and you couldn’t meet his eyes. He wasn’t touching you but you could practically feel the heat radiating off of his body. Without even meaning to he was making you feel so small, but part of you didn’t even mind it.

“Be careful, Obispo,” you were trying to keep things light but your voice came out so soft, “I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking to.”

His free hand came up and tilted your chin so that you were looking at him, “I haven’t forgot you yet, not even for a second,” he didn’t break eye contact with you, “And believe me, I’ve tried.”

You let out a shaky breath as you tilted your head up so that his hand was no longer touching you. You dropped your cigarette to the ground, snubbing it out with the ball of your foot. Bishop hadn’t back up at all and you were forced to look at him. There was a familiar light in his eyes, something that you had been missing desperately. He took one last drag before putting his cigarette out as well. You leaned back against the brick wall, trying to grant yourself a little more space between the two of you.

“I’ve missed this,” he said, visibly fighting the urge to pull you in close to him.

You nodded slightly, “Me too,” you swallowed hard, trying to force the words out, “You stopped answering my texts.”

He rested one hand on the back of his neck as he took a deep breath, “I figured that it would be best for you…for both of us.”

“I hate being broken up,” you blurted out. You quickly reached up and covered your mouth with your hand, unsure of where that had come from. It was true, sure, but you weren’t planning on saying it. You shook your head, “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean, I know why we did but fuck, I just mi—”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence. He stepped in and pulled you into a rough kiss. One arm snaked around your waist while his other hand rested against the back of your neck, pressing you into him. After a moment the shock of it wore off and you fell into him, hands gripping his kutte and pulling him as close as humanly possible. He pushed your back flush against the side of the building and you couldn’t help but to moan into your kiss.

He finally pulled his lips off of yours. You tried to catch your breath as you rested your forehead against his. His grip on you loosened as his hands slid around your hips and found themselves nestled into your back pockets. You smiled at the comfort of the familiar gesture. You brought one hand up to the side of his face, tracing along his cheekbone and feeling his stubble slide underneath the pad of your thumb.

“I’ve missed you so much, Y/N,” his voice was hardly a whisper.

You gave him a quick peck on the lips, “I’ve missed you too.”

“I thought it would be better if we weren’t together anymore, and maybe it’s selfish of me, but I want you to come home,” he pulled away slightly so that he could look you in the eyes, “Please.”

You felt the anxiety melting out of your body. You had spent months imagining him saying those words and it was finally happening. “Can I come home tonight?”

He chuckled, nodding, “I’d love that,” he pulled you into a hug, letting your head rest against his chest, “And I would really love if we left now so I don’t have to go back in there.”

You laughed into his chest, “I guess that’s fair,” you pulled away, letting your hands slide so that your fingers interlocked with his, “Take me home Obispo.”

He laughed, tugging you in the direction of his bike, “It’d be my pleasure.”

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa #mayans mc imagine #bishop losa imagine #bishop losa x you #bishop losa fanfiction #bishop losa angst #obispo losa #obispo losa x reader #obispo losa imagine #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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softcallofdutyimagines · 3 years

Note

Like how someone asked about the squad babysitting, how would Perseus agents feel about it?

Naga, Stitch etc

Oh man, this would be like... Utter mayhem times A THOUSAND LMAO

Also, I wasn't sure if you wanted like the Warsaw pact operators or just Perseus agents, so I picked my faves as well as Naga and Stitch for this one. I hope that's ok!

---

Beck

This guy is 100000% Dad Vibes™

He can watch kids with absolutely no trouble

The kids might not have a lot of fun though because he'd be very regimented with things like TV time, dinner time, and bed time however

He strikes me as the nerdy type who has legitimate reasons at the ready for why he only lets the kids watch this much tv and sends them to bed no later then that time

Even worse, he is more then happy to explain his reasoning to the kids when they complain

Unfortunately for them, they end up getting so bored they just do what he says to get him to shut up

This is probably his most powerful tactic as a baby sitter, and it's not even intentional

Needless to say, parents love him since he's so effective, despite protest from the kids

It's a vicious cycle

Naga

Idk why, but personally I feel like he'd be surprisingly good with kids???

Don't get me wrong, he's very begrudging and also of the "come here you little shit" mindset

But he knows all about putting the kids down for a nap and giving them something to entertain themselves with so they don't drive him insane

I also feel that he'd get attached to any kids he's babysitting easily????

Like, people can roast him, that's whatever, but if you come for the kid?

Bad idea

Very much the "I was holding my kid- BITCH I'M A MOTHER. NO DRAMA!!" tiktok audio vibes

Portnova

Idk why, but she strikes me as the "older sister who's too cool for you"

This reflects very much in her baby sitting style

She's almost completely hands off, and basically let's the kids do whatever

As long as they don't break anything or create a disastrous mess, who cares?

Let the little goblins tire themselves out

She'll be in her work space, behind a nice closed door, doing paperwork while the kids go nuts

Eventually she comes out to serve up some dinner and then it's back to letting them off the leash

When bedtime rolls around the kids are usually completely tuckered out from their own shenanigans

And even if not, they have just the right combo of fear and respect for her that they'll take this one command and go to sleep for her

Despite the fact that the kids seem to love her and indeed get along well with her...

She feels herself becoming more and more convinced that she'll never be having kids in her life after each babysitting assignment

Stitch

Oof, well Stitch would probably be the very, absolute LAST person you'd want to watch some kids

But assuming these were the kids of someone important, aka his superior or something, I think he could pull it off

I'm thinking he'd go the portnova route with a bit of naga thrown in

He defiantly has rules, but mostly he just lets the kids do whatever

As long as that 'whatever' is outside

That's not to say he can't handle the kids tho if they had to stay indoors

Just put on some tv, leave out some cheerios or whatever, and you're all set

Even if he did play nice, I feel like any little kid would probably be intimidated by him regardless, so the kids are happy to be off doing their own thing anyway

However, any chance he gets, he teaches the kids about communism and propaganda on the greatness of the Perseus organization

His boss would be happy, any other parents, not so much

Stone

Like Stitch, you'd probably have to twist his arm on this one lol

Although, I feel like he wouldn't mind hanging around the kids, just to make sure nothing happens

They can occupy themselves, and he'll be close by, either reading something or watching tv

The kids would probably be pretty curious about him though, so I think they'd badger him with questions about his work and all

Luckily he has more then one braincell, so he keeps the crazy stuff out, but Stone is a busy man so he has plenty of other interesting stories to tell

He doesn't mind talking about it either

Something tells me he'd love the opportunity to brag on himself a little

If nothing else, at least he has no agenda to push onto the kids, so parents can rest at ease on that one lmao

#call of duty #black ops cold war #harry stone #vikhor stitch kuzmin #yirina portnova #kapano naga vang #ingo beck #cod headcanons

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translations-by-aiimee · 3 years

Text

Mistakenly Saving the Villain - Chapter 5

Original Title: 论救错反派的下场

Genres: Drama, Romance, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5 - Wrong Answer

Readers who have read novels such as transmigration, quick transmigration, and system plotlines, know that if the fate of the character in the story must be changed, it should be prevented before the character's tragic fate has occurred. However, Song Qingshi interpreted this as the event having already occurred, and was meant to save the character who had already suffered a tragic fate. This train of thought meant that his decision was a thousand miles off.

In the original book, Yue Wuhuan only appeared three times:

The first time was when the shou protagonist had just been sold to Golden Phoenix Manor. When he saw the unbearable scene of Yue Wuhuan being played with by the guests, his three views shattered.

The second time was when the protagonist's naive illusion of the future was destroyed and he was forced to accept his identity because of the ridicule and humiliating remarks of Yue Wuhuan.

The third time, Yue Wuhuan was taken out by Jin FeiRen on the Langgan stage to treat the guests and was accidentally torn to pieces by the demon tiger. Jin FeiRen concealed the actual explanation of the demon tiger's madness and treated it as a deliberately arranged game for the banquet. With this extreme fear, he shattered the last trace of the protagonist's dignity, making him completely surrender and become a plaything.

In short, Yue Wuhuan was a small supporting role with little substance, leaving the plot early, using his degeneracy to offset the beauty of the protagonist. His beauty was only like that of a beautiful flower that was about to wither. How can it be compared with the pure and clean flower bud that had not yet bloomed in the dawn?

This was a super simple multiple-choice question that every reader could figure out!

If the system was a living thing and watching over the exam being taken, it would be so angry that it would have come out and beaten that foolish Song Qingshi to death.

Scholar-Tyrant Song didn't know that he had drifted so far from the original goal, but he was still eagerly confident, trying to do his best and vowing to get a perfect score!

On the way back to the Valley of the Medicine King, Song Qingshi had recalled all the memories of his original body and integrated it with its massive knowledge of medicine and alchemy. There were rare and exotic herbs and miraculous medicines in the cultivation world. However, similar to traditional Chinese medicine, even if the medicine worked wonders, the science behind the effects of these medicines was still a mystery.

Modern medicine conducts systematic research on traditional Chinese medicine to find out the monarch-minister-auxiliary relationship within its components, extracted the useful ingredients in each concoction, and then developed medicine that was easier to take and had even better results.

A female scientist won the Nobel Prize for this, benefiting the world. Song Qingshi focused on modern medicine, leaped away from the traditional path of immortality, and quickly found new ideas for solving problems for many areas that the original body had failed to properly study. He used the Tiangong Pavilion to make modern scientific instrument substitutes, and then analyze the effective ingredients in the immortal medicines, purify them, research them, and even artificially synthesize them. . .

In Song Qingshi's mind, there were countless experimental schemes in an endless stream, and there were tens of thousands of books and inexhaustible medicinal materials in the Medicine King's Valley, as well as abundant research funds.

He was overjoyed, like a mouse that fell into a vat of rice. He wanted to kiss the system if he could.

Song Qingshi fully understood why the original body lived here, staying in such a cultivation paradise. He could live here for the rest of his life!

He could immerse himself in the ocean of intense studying and research every day. He could dedicate his life and soul to his favourite medical god. No one could send him back!

Song Qingshi looked at Yue Wuhuan in his arms. The more he looked at him, the more he loved him.

This was the big treasure that had given him everything! He would do everything he could to save him, just like his parents used to treat him before; indulged, spoiled, loved, and giving him all the good things he needed so that he can live a happy life like a prince in a fairy tale!

Song 'a father's love is like a mountain' Qingshi was full of ambition. He suppressed his excitement and immediately placed Yue Wuhuan in the side hall of his bedroom. He did everything by himself. First, he poured the elixir carefully with the crane-mouthed pot to re-invigorate the breath of life. Then he changed into white clothes, put on a homemade mask, and found a pair of extremely thin animal leather gloves. After he finished disinfecting the wounds, gently cut off the blood-soaked gauze and feather skirt on Yue Wuhuan's body with scissors, rinsed the wounds, and then sutured them with very fine silkworm thread. Then, he cut off the shackles and treated his ankle wounds.

Song Qingshi's movements were extremely gentle and quick, barely touching any skin, but Yue Wuhuan's body was extremely sensitive. He twitched slightly and groaned a few times before falling asleep again. Song Qingshi took the opportunity to take some blood samples for analysis, and also performed a full-body scan of him with his mental probe. He was a good-tempered person, but after seeing the disastrously ruined dantian and meridians in Yue Wuhuan's body, he couldn't help but curse darkly at those beasts. He scolded them repeatedly, thinking about how he was going to explain this situation to him once he woke up.

Song Qingshi was not good at communicating with strangers. He was able to make do when discussing his interests, but his thoughts often went blank when forced into small talk. For example, when everyone watched the popular men's group selection variety show together and argued over who was the male god?

He answered sincerely that it was Asclepius, the god of medicine. . .

Song Qing hasn't understood why everyone said he killed the conversation.

He thought hard for a long time and remembered that when his Lou Gerhig's hadn't been as advanced, he worked in a hospital for an internship. His senior brother knew that Song Qinshi was afraid of social interaction and would end up a stuttering mess when he tried to have conversations with his patients. He taught Song Qingshi: "Push down all of your feelings and act like a medical machine. First write down their case in detail and their treatment plan, recite it with a smile, and then end with a comforting sentence." Song Qingshi took this secret technique, practiced many times in front of the teacher, and, finally, he could talk to patients without fear.

A hospital is a place for treatment, just like how the Medicine King's Valley is a place for treatment. What's the difference?

After Song Qingshi had this epiphany, he replaced Yue Wuhuan’s bed sheets and bedding with the white ones commonly used in hospitals. He ordered the valley servant to make several sets of patient clothes, put them on by himself, and then tied roots on his wrist to represent the hospital information band. With a red wristband and a sign on the bed with "Special Care" and the instructions for how to care for him, Song Qingshi instantly felt calm in this makeshift hospital environment.

He wasn't comfortable with the type of care that the valley servantswere giving and took on nursing himself. He was careful and not afraid of getting tired. He wiped down Yue Wuhuan's body and washed his face, fed him medicine and water, and even replaced the bedding to deal with all kinds of filth.

When Yue Wuhuan woke up three days later, he was confused. He didn't know where he was. He stared at the white veil on the top of the bed in a daze for a long time. He finally realized that he was still alive and he hadn't been this relaxed in a long time.

He closed his eyes, faintly recalling the slight fragrance of medicine lingering from his dream and the hands that had gently released all the restraints for him. He took a deep breath. He didn't want to wake up and face the never-ending nightmare.

After who know's how long, Yue Wuhuan threw his eyes open, remembering where he had smelled the fragrance of the medicine. He slowly turned his head and looked at the round table next to him, but saw that Medicine Master Xianzun was attentively making changes to the cursive writings on the table. He was frowning, his expression serious, as if thinking about something bad. There was also a familiar spirit bead in the silver plate next to him, and it became obvious that he had been given to another guest to be played with.

Yue Wuhuan’s phoenix eyes shrank. The rumors of the perverse and evil deeds of the Medicine Master Xianzun appeared in his mind, but he was not afraid. Whether he was willing or unwilling meant nothing under the control of the spirit bead. Besides, his broken body was no longer worthy of being cherished. He took a deep breath, gritted his teeth and struggled to get out of bed, but a sharp pain came from his shoulder, which made him dizzy and he fell right back down. Song Qingshi never had any distractions when he was researching. He heard the movement and found that the patient was awake. He was afraid that Yue Wuhuan might have moved his body and reopened the wound. He quickly reprimanded him with a stern tone: "You, go to bed right away! You are not allowed to get off for ten days!"

This stern technique was a secret taught by the head nurse of the hospital. It had a good effect on treating patients who didn't follow the doctor's advice.

"Ten days?" Yue Wuhuan was stunned. He couldn't help but look at Song Qingshi up and down. The more he looked, the more he felt that his appearance was deceiving. He had been with guests for many years, and he was used to seeing many lustful scenes, but he never would've guessed that this person had such prowess in the bed. . .

Seeing that he hadn't gotten back on the bed, Song Qingshi put down his pen, walked over and picked him up with his own hands.

Yue Wuhuan remained unmoved, stretched out his hand and gently hugged his neck. Hot fingertips touched his cool skin, as smooth as cool jade, and the clear and clean scent of medicine wrapped around him gently like if he was in a dream. Yue Wuhuan couldn't help but shake for a moment. He chasticized his heart for still not knowing how to behave, then resumed his usual posture, and breathed out ambiguously: "I hope that Xianxun will take pity. . ."

"Don't worry, I will." Song Qingshi put him back on the bed carefully, then pulled the blanket up. He wrapped him up tightly, and solemnly told him, "The valley is wet and cold. You have a mortal body so be careful of the cold and stay under the blanket. Keep your hands and feet tucked in and don’t kick off the sheets."

Yue Wuhuan had never seen this trick in bed before and was at a bit of a loss.

"You;re a patient now. Let me tell you about your situation." Song Qingshi turned back to the table, picked up a stack of paper covered with words. He nervously pushed the non-existent glasses on the bridge of his nose, and read with a smile, formulating his tone. "The patient is Yue Wuhuan. There are three lacerations from the right shoulder to the chest, which are 18 cm, 14 cm and 12 cm long. The right shoulder bone is fractured, and the suprascapular artery has been ruptured. The right elbow has a skin contusion. The left and right wrists have skin tissue bruises, the left and right knees are bruised along with the left and right ankle tissue. The buttocks skin has soft tissue lacerations. There are signs of drug abuse in the body and potentially drug addiction. Do you understand?"

Yue Wuhuan only felt that his stiff smile must look increasingly forced. The more he thought about it, the crazier everything seemed. All he could do was nod his head and pretendto understand.

"Very good." Song Qingshi felt that what he said was both detailed and easy to understand, and began to recite the preliminary treatment plan. "Your dantian and meridians have been destroyed, and your body is seriously damaged. Your body is too fragile right now to use stronger medicine, so you cannot take Rejuvenation Pill, Gather Breathe and Disperse Pill, All Creation Pill or the Bone Growth Pill. You need to be treated with mortal medicine first, and then treated with the Six Meridian Rejuvanation medicated bath. Then you'll take the Rising Dragon Pill and Nine Revolution Blood Lotus Pill."

Yue Wuhuan finally understood what he was saying. These pills were common immortal medicines, and he had also taken it when he was seriously injured.

The All Creation Pill and Rising Dragon Pill were worth thousands, and he had heard that the poster of Jape Pearl Tower's Lord had used it for his own treasure.

He didn't know what the Six Meridian Rejuvanation medicated bath was, but the Nine Revolution Blood Lotus Pill was the treasure of the immortal world. It is made of ten thousand year-old blood lotuses. There were only nine in the world and only few know where their locations. He only knew that the master of Xuanji Palace had used it and ascended to Fen Shen; the lord of Fluttering Snow Fortress turned against his Daoist companion and killed him and his wife to win the treasure; one appeared in the Qizhen Pavilion auction, and it was won by the owner of the East Sea Langya Pavilion with hundreds of thousands of high-grade spirit stones. For some reason, Jin FeiRen wasn't able to participate in the auction. He always brought it up as one of the greatest regrets in his life.

If it were described in mortal terms, it would be like saving a beggar on the side of the road and saying that you would give him precious delicacies, golden houses, jade horses, and billions in wealth. FInally, you tell him you'll give him the fade seal of the country and all lands under the heavens. Only an idiot would believe these claims.

Yue Wuhuan laughed but his heart was cold. He basically confirmed that Song Qingshi was just toying with him.

He had also encountered many such sweet talkers, pretending to show compassion for some and pity for others. All he wanted, though, was to coax his slaves to play this game with him. He only lusted after his dirty body, in the end.

Song Qingshi finished off with some final closing words: "Don't worry, as long as you follow the doctor's advice and cooperate with the treatment, you'll be cured."

"Okay," Yue Wuhuan's phoenix eyes showed a bit of flattery, and he replied in a sultry voice: "This slave depend on Xianzun for everything. . ."

"I almost forgot." Song Qingshi looked into his eyes and suddenly remembered something. He put on the animal skin gloves again, picked up a luminous bead the size of a goose egg and placed it in a strange, long, tube-shape lampshade. Then he sat on the side of the bed, leaned over and looked at Yue Wuhuan. He gave him a serious warning: "This may be a little uncomfortable, please bear with me."

Yue Wuhuan smiled self-deprecatingly. He let the phoenix eyes show waves of desire, and he relaxed his body, waiting to be played with.

Song Qingshi stretched out his hand and opened his eyes, illuminating the inside of the eyes with the luminous bead. He carefully observed for a while, then whispered: "The problem of the lacrimal secretion system is not visible on the outside, so I still have to do a colored dye inspection..."

Yue Wuhuan: "???"

#mistakenly saving the villain #mistakenly saving the villain translation #chinese bl #chinese novel #english translation #yaoi novel #song qinshi #yue wuhuan

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bougredane · 4 years

Text

Napoleon eats (badly).

Constant, politely despairing, from his memoirs :

« The Emperor ate very fast ; he scarcely remained a dozen minutes at table. When he had finished dining, he rose and went into the family sitting-room ; but the Empress Josephine remained, and signaled the guests to do likewise ; sometimes, however, she followed His Majesty, and then the ladies of the palace doubtless indemnified themselves in their apartments, where they were served with whatever they desired. One day when Prince Eugene rose from the table immediately after the Emperor, the latter turned and said : « But you have not had time to dine, Eugene ? » « Pardon me, » replied the Prince, « I dined beforehand. » The other guests probably thought it was not a useless precaution. It was before the Consulate that things took place in this way; for afterwards the Emperor, even while he was only first consul, dined tête-à-tête with the Empress, unless he invited some member of his household to his table, sometimes one and sometimes another, and all received this favor with joy. He had already a court at this epoch.

Most frequently, the Emperor breakfasted alone, on a round mahogany stand, and without a napkin. This repast, still shorter than the other, lasted from eight to ten minutes. I shall say presently what disastrous effects this bad habit of eating quickly often produced upon the Emperor's health. In addition to this habit and even as a first result of his haste, the Emperor by no means ate in a cleanly manner. He preferred to use his fingers instead of a fork, or even a spoon ; we were careful to put the dish he liked best within his reach. He drew it to him, in the fashion I have just described, dipping his bread in the sauce and and the gravy, — which did not prevent the dish from circulating ; any one ate of it who could, and there were few guests who could not. I have even seen some who seemed to consider this singular act of courage as a means of making their court. I am willing to believe also that in several their admiration for His Majesty silenced all repugnance, just as one does not scruple to eat from the plate and drink from the glass of a person one loves, even were it not wholly immaculate as to cleanliness ; which one does not see, because passion is blind.

…

It is not true that the Emperor made, as has been affirmed, an immoderate use of coffee. He took merely half a cup after his breakfast and another after his dinner. Still it sometimes happened, when he was preoccupied, that he took two cups in succession without noticing it. But coffee, drunk in such a quantity, disturbed and prevented the Emperor from sleeping. Often, too, he would chance to take it cold, or without sugar, or with too much. To remedy these inconveniences, the Empress Josephine took charge of pouring the Emperor his coffee, and the Empress Marie-Louise likewise adopted this custom. When the Emperor rose from table and passed into the little salon, a page followed him, carrying a silver-gilt tray on which were a coffee-pot, a sugar-bowl, and a cup. Her Majesty the Empress poured the coffee herself, sugared it, swallowed a few drops to taste it, and offered it to the Emperor.

The Emperor drank nothing but Chambertin, and rarely pure. He did not like wine much, and was no judge of it. That reminds me that one day at the camp of Boulogne, having invited several officers to his table, His Majesty sent some of his wine to Marshal Augereau, and asked him with a certain air of satisfaction how he found it. The Marshal tasted it for awhile, clacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and ended by saying : « There is some that is better, » in not the most insinuating tone. The Emperor, although he had expected a different reply, smiled, like the rest of the guests, at the Marshal's frankness.

…

The habit of eating precipitately often occasioned the Emperor violent pains in the stomach, which nearly always ended in vomiting. One day, one of the valets on duty came in a great hurry to notify me that the Emperor was urgently calling for me ; that his dinner had disagreed with him and he was suffering very much. I ran to His Majesty's chamber and found him stretched at full length on the carpet ; it was his habit when he felt indisposed.

The Empress Josephine was sitting beside him, with his head upon her lap. He whined and stormed by turns, for the Emperor supported this sort of pain worse than the thousand more serious accidents incident to camp life ; and the hero of Arcola, whose life had been risked in a hundred battles, and elsewhere than in combats, without his courage being taken unawares, showed himself more than effeminate for a trifling hurt, a bobo. Her Majesty the Empress was consoling and encouraging him as best she could ; courageous herself when suffering from headaches so violent as to amount to real illness, she would willingly, had that been possible, have assumed her husband's malady, the sight of which perhaps made her suffer more than he did. « Constant, » she said as soon as I entered, « come quickly, the Emperor needs you ; make him some tea and do not leave him until he is better. » His Majesty had hardly taken three cups when his pain diminished; he still kept his head on the knees of the Empress, who caressed his forehead with her white, plump hand, and also rubbed his chest. « Do you feel better? Will you lie down a little? I will stay by your bed with Constant. » Was not this tenderness very touching? especially in so lofty a rank? The nature of my duties often gave me opportunities of enjoying this picture of happy family life. »

#napoleon #constant #where'd my coffee go ?#guess I'll have another one

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convenientalias · 3 years

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I Rate Cdramas Based Off Their First Episode

Today I dropped another cdrama off my to-watch list after watching one and a half episodes. Which has me thinking about first episodes in general, and what I look for from them. I could write extensive meta about this but instead I thought I'd just make another list where I rate cdramas based on my own arbitrary taste.

Some caveats: These are only cdramas I've watched to completion and whose first episodes I actually remember. So, for example, I liked the first episode of The Story of Minglan but dropped it on episode 10--it is not on this list. On the other hand, I had mixed feelings on the first episode of Sword Dynasty when I watched it but now I can't remember it, so it isn't on this list either. That said, let's begin. In alphabetical order...

Ancient Detective: Introduces the three leads, gives you a sense of the MC's motivation, and gets the main bromance started. Has one mini-case solved in the first half of the episode and then sets up the first multi-episode case. A fun episode in itself and a good introduction. 10/10, I think anyone would want to watch at least the next episode to see where things are going and get some more bromance.

The Disguiser: Really has a lot going on. It can be kind of confusing at first, especially for someone who doesn't know much about this period in Chinese history, to figure out who's who and who belongs to what political party etc, but it does get across what the main characters are like and establish them all as very competent and (except maybe Ming Tai) pretty shady. It has everything: executions, torture, assassinations, reunions between old friends (lovers?) who are no longer exactly friends, dramatic plane rides, kidnappings, recruitment speeches... Admittedly better on a rewatch when you're less confused, but does start things off with a boom. 9/10.

Flame's Daughter: On a rewatch I had misremembered this first episode as being the first two episodes because so much fuckign happens. And yet it's easy enough to follow. A large number of major characters are introduced, but few of them are given much depth as of yet, and you don't really know their motivations. The two MCs have a sort of a meet cute, and Lie Ruge has some fun hanging out in a brothel. I would rate this episode higher if Taste Flower Pavilion had more to do with the main plot, or if a couple characters who seem important in this episode didn't turn out to be mostly irrelevant. But it's got a good hook, even if it sort of underplays the level of wuxia intrigue that will show up after a few more episodes. 7/10.

Granting You a Dreamlike Life: Does anyone like the framing device of GYADL? It's really only relevant to the first and last episode, and it's so pointless. Why introduce the two main actors in completely different roles for the first half of the first episode and then go into a prolonged flashback where they're different characters entirely? It just annoys me. (Partly bc the plot of this framing device is embarrassing.) That said, once you get into the flashback itself--which you do get around to this episode--you get one of the best scenes of the series with the two leads fighting each other over a bag of dumplings, doing acrobatics and martial arts and even some motorcycling. A quality meet cute. So I will give this episode 5/10 for being both excellent and awful.

Handsome Siblings: This show's first two episodes are mostly backstory. But it's not that bad, really. I mean, think of all the kdramas that spend the first three to five episodes on backstory and it's really not that bad to just spend one and a half episodes on it. Still I'm not a huge fan of the MCs being babies for the whole first episode, and this first episode is extremely tragic while the majority of the show is a mix of angst and comedy, so it's not all that accurate of an introduction to the show either. I think the second episode is much truer to the mood of the series as a whole and a better introduction in general. Still, the first episode does give a lot of backstory that you really need to get the dramatic irony that the rest of the series leans on, so... I guess 4/10??

Joy of Life: The first episode of Joy of Life is hilarious. Doesn't introduce the political intrigue aspect or some other aspects of the show, and the first couple minutes are confusing, but mostly, it's just hilarious. The kid actor for Fan Xian I may like better than his adult actor lols. 10/10, again, I have a hard time seeing anyone wanting to stop without watching another episode.

Nirvana in Fire: I know NIF's first episode is notoriously confusing but I actually think... it's not bad. Because fundamentally, NIF is a show about a lot of characters doing political schemes and often monologuing about it. So a first episode that has some basic scheming and introduces a lot of cast members isn't really that bad. I also kind of like that the first episode is like "this show will be about the conflict between Prince Yu and the Crown Prince, and Mei Changsu supporting one of them to become emperor" and then not only does MCS not support either one, but he also is secretly more focused on the Chiyan case than in even making Jingyan emperor as a goal in itself. Also, NIF said at the get-go "MCS is gonna die in two years" and it stuck to its guns and you have to respect that. And making Lin Chen show up for one episode and then disappear until the final act was also pretty wild. That said, I have now watched this episode five times trying to convince others to watch the show and I only convinced one person, so I can't say it's all that effective as a hook. I give it a 6/10 because I am fond but it's true that it's kind of a disaster.

Winter Begonia: I would like to complain and say this show starts off slow. The leads only meet towards the end of this first episode, and they spend most of the episode hanging out with their respective families (or opera troupe, as the case may be) living their everyday lives. But this is a slice of life show with a slow burn (b)romance at its core, so even though at the time I first watched the first episode I wanted things to move faster, ultimately it makes sense with what the show is. In some shows, you get the leads becoming close right off the bat (Ancient Detective, I'm looking at you), and in others, it only happens after several episodes of shallow but flirty meetings, a disastrous party, and a serious conversation in a gazebo in the middle of a snowstorm. What you get from Winter Begonia's first episode is not immediate action or relationship development but a strong sense of who Shang Xirui and Cheng Fengtai are separately, which prepares you for how they will and won't mesh well together as the story progresses. 9/10.

I haven't actually watched any of these episodes in a while so I may be wrong or biased by how the shows turned out by the time I was done with them. Let me know if you agree or disagree :)

#cdramas #sometime i should do this with kdramas too #bc i think their first episodes are a bit different #but not tonight

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wondersofdreaming · 4 years

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Dumplings 101

Characters: Henry Cavill x female reader

Word count: 1.179

Warnings: Mentions of being sad, depressed, homesick. The rest is pure fluff.

Author’s note: I miss my mum so bad today, and I listened to ‘Homesick’ by Dua Lipa, which made me miss her even more.

I do not own any characters in this short story, except the reader and her parents who are figments of my imagination.

Tag: @katerka88 @littlefreya @hell1129-blog @mitzwinchester @mary-ann84 @valkavill @sciapod @henry-cavlll @luclittlepond @iloveyouyen @trippedmetaldetector @radaofrivia @omgkatinka @gothwhopper @fcgrizi @alyxkbrl @singeramg @onlyhenrys @henrythickcavill @madbaddic7ed @palaiasaurus64 @queenslandlover-93 @magdelen69 @shellbilee @mis-lil-red @vania-marie @tumblnewby

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the list.

MASTERLIST

Feedback is appreciated.

It had been three years since you last saw your parents. They lived far away, while you had moved to London to study. You had ended up falling in love and stayed, even moving in with the man of your dreams.

You talked to your parents at least once a week through video chat and your mother texted you every day through a messenger app. She would send memes, jokes your dad had thrown at her that day, or simply just a message of love, telling you she missed and loved you.

You hadn’t felt homesick in a long time. But one day you were walking through Chinatown with Henry and the scents of the food reminded you of your mum’s cooking.

Henry, the sweet and caring attentive boyfriend, noticed you were feeling a bit gloomy and sad. He asked what was on your mind, and you would answer that you felt a little homesick.

A few weeks later he came home from grocery shopping, which had taken two hours longer than it used to. He walked into the kitchen and laid out all the ingredients he had bought.

“Ground pork, spring onions, garlic, coriander, chilli, ginger, Chinese cabbage. Honey, why have you bought these things?” You asked him curiously, watching him take out the flour and potato starch.

“You told me yesterday that you missed your mum’s dumplings, so we’re making some,” he smiled and reached at the top shelve for the largest bowl you owned.

A light went on in your head. All the ingredients matched perfectly with your mother’s dumpling recipe.

“Henry… did my mum give you her recipe?”

“Yes? Why?”

“She guards that recipe like a dragon protecting its treasure. How did you do it?”

“Well…”

The doorbell saved Henry from answering, as you went to open, puzzled by who it could be. Outside stood your parents.

“Mama?! Papa?! What are you doing here?” You hugged both and clung to them for dear life.

“Invite us in and we’ll tell you everything,” your father chuckled and patted your back. He waltzed inside and patted Kal, who happily wagged his bushy tail.

“What’s going on, Henry?” You asked him as he and your father shook hands.

“Your sweetheart of a boyfriend called us a week ago, saying you were awfully depressed and missed us. We took two weeks off from work and flew here, arranged by Henry and everything. We’re even staying at the hotel just a few blocks over.” Your mother chipped. She went straight to the kitchen, “And something about you wanting my gyozas, so I gave him the ingredient list, but not how to make them.”

“See, I knew something was going on when he said you had given him the recipe.”

“Today, I am going to teach you two how to make them, then you won’t miss me as much, dear.”

“I’ll always miss you, mama.”

Your mother smiled softly. She pulled out an apron from her purse and asked Henry for a notebook and a pen.

“First we start with the dumpling wrappers…”

She quickly took over the kitchen, as any cooking-loving mother would do. You measured the ingredients while Henry kneaded the dough. Your father sat at the two-person table, where you ate breakfast with Henry, and played tug with Kal. You and your mother stood at one side of the kitchen island, while Henry worked the dough, his muscles on display.

“Here you go, dear, you’re drooling,” your mother handed you a napkin. Your cheeks blushed a crimson red, but Henry just smiled at you. He knew it, the cheeky monkey, what effect it had on you when he showcased his biceps.

“There, it’s all smooth,” Henry handed your mother the dough. She inspected it and approved it. After wrapping it in film, you moved on to the filling.

“My mama taught me how to chop everything nicely, so it will have a nice mouthfeel when you take a bite of the dumpling. But we’re going to use your meat grinder.”

You put the meat grinder attachment to your kitchen machine. You put almost all the vegetables through and had this wet mixture in the end. Henry was tasked to shred the small block of ginger.

Your mother added soy sauce, sesame oil, and black pepper as seasonings to the veggie-mix and then added the ground pork and ginger. She mixed it thoroughly and set it aside.

“Mama, how do we know how much soy to put in?” You asked.

“You can always panfry a little of the filling and taste it, dear. Henry, be a darling and roll the dough out for me.”

After your mother was happy with the thickness of the dough, you used a small bowl to cut out circles. She filled the dough with a teaspoon of the filling and showed you how to fold it closed, making it stick together with water on the edges.

The first few attempts were disastrous, you kept overfilling the dough and ended up with ground pork all over your hands. Your mother showed you over and over again until you got the hang of it. Henry, on the other hand, impressed you with his technique. He shouldn’t have been able to work with such a delicate dough, but the way he folded the edges so gently, made you wonder how he did it with his large thick fingers.

“Well done, Henry. Looks like you’ve tried this before,” your mother praised him.

“Not really, but it is a little similar to working with pasta,” he smiled. You had been nervous to have him meet your parents, but now you knew there had been nothing to worry about. He was turning on the charm, full throttle.

You went in search of a pan with a lid while your mother and Henry gushed over filled pasta. You heated up the pan with some neutral oil and added the gyozas in a circular pattern. When the dumplings had gotten a golden and crispy bottom, you added water and put the lid on, letting the dumplings steam and cook.

“Henry, will you set the dinner table, please?” You interrupted the two food-loving talkers. Henry smiled and went to grab the plates.

“Let’s make some dipping sauces,” your mother clasped her hands together and went to work. Your father helped Henry with glasses and chopsticks.

10 minutes later all the food was on the table, with you sitting next to Henry and opposite your parents. You thanked for the food and started putting food on your plate with your chopsticks, your parents doing the same, while Henry had a little more difficulty using his.

“Here, you hold it like this. One in the crook of your thumb and sitting at the tip of your ring finger, the other sits a little higher and nestled between your middle and index finger.”

He did his best and would learn with a little more practice.

“So, these dumplings are the ones that you can eat without getting tired of them?” Henry asked.

“All day, every day.”

#Henry Cavill #This man #I need a drink #Henry Cavill x female reader #Henry Cavill x reader #Henry x female reader #Henry x reader #Fanfiction #Dumplings #Gyoza #My favourite food #Dumplings 101 #henry cavill fanfic #My story #Short story

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dropintomanga · 4 years

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Demon Slayer and My Hero Academia - 2 Sides of the Same Coin?

Whenever you hear about Koyoharu Gotoge’s Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba, you tend to hear about the records the series has smashed in Japan since the anime adaptation aired. From taking over entire top 20 Oricon manga charts to being one of Japan’s most highly grossed movies ever to influencing political campaigns, Demon Slayer is a once-in-a-lifetime hit that captivated an entire nation. (Oh, and Gotoge is the 1st mangaka ever selected for the Time 100 Next list)

However, outside of Japan, Demon Slayer isn’t as popular as one of its other Shonen Jump brethren, Kohei Horikoshi’s My Hero Academia. Demon Slayer still sells well and fans love the series over here in The United States, but manga sales charts are filled with more My Hero Academia volumes than Demon Slayer volumes.

I’ve been thinking about both series’ popularity in the context of the East versus West dynamic.

As cultural experts will tell you, Western principles are built on a sense of individualism. You deserve the freedom to choose your own path. You can make it on your own. No one should get in the way of what you want. Eastern principles are all about collectivism. Make sacrifices for the prosperity of the group. Don’t do anything that hurts other people around you. The world doesn’t revolve around you.

When I think about My Hero Academia, it makes sense that Western fans love it a bit/lot more than Demon Slayer. We all want to be heroes of our story. We want to be more than who we are. It’s about youth who are focusing on their own growth and getting away from their comfort zones to find new opportunities to become stronger.

Demon Slayer isn’t about being a hero. It’s about a guy who wanted to make his demon sister human again. He’s not interested in being the absolute best to save the world. While saving Japan ends up being a consequence of his actions, family is what’s important to main lead Tanjiro Kamado. Also, superheroes aren’t nearly as popular in Japan compared to here (with the exception of Spider-Man).

There was a book I read, Amaia Arrazola’s Tokyo Travel Sketchbook, that briefly discussed the Japanese conventional idea about family. Post-WWII, Japan promoted the idea that it was going to take women to stay home and take care of the home life while the men went out to be the breadwinners. Japan had to, since it had to take everyone together to rebuild the country. However, after the real estate bubble of the 1980s’ was burst, the idea of family being the center really fell apart as Japanese men lost their status as breadwinners due to jobs being finite and gone.

I also remember reading about the history of Western influence in Japan. There’s been a bunch of debate about whether Japan truly embraced Western ideals. To be fair, a lot of voices that claim Western influence being high in non-Western countries tend to be Westerners themselves. Japanese voices on Western ideals may have been been misunderstood in the first place. Demon Slayer takes place during a time of transition where modernity was growing in Japan, while My Hero Academia uses the Western love of comic book superheroes as its basis for its story.

When I think about Demon Slayer and My Hero Academia’s popularities in different parts of the world, it’s perhaps the Western vs. Eastern view of how striving for new opportunities often means loss of community. In My Hero Academia, we do see the psychological effects of bad family influence due to the relentless pursuit of status in a modern world. I saw this mostly early on with Shoto Todoroki (this is being explored even further with the rest of his family as of this writing) and much later in the series with Tomura Shigaraki’s past being revealed.

I noticed that a lot of things are blamed on bad parenting (especially in Western culture). A lot of psychological help does suggest that the family has a big role in influencing a child’s development. However, are they to blame for everything? Outside factors, like social inequality, do play a role. Endeavor, the father of Shoto and top 2 hero at the time, had to deal with so much perceived inequality (i.e. being compared to All Might) that it drove him to abuse his own family. When Deku told Shoto that that his power was his alone regardless of his upbringing, Shoto saw that he was in a place of equality since he was in a supporting environment among his peers compared to his dad. He’s started to understand how life experiences with other people and circumstances can change someone for better or worse as he reluctantly re-connects with Endeavor (who’s trying to redeem himself).

With Demon Slayer, there’s the infamous Spider Family arc, where the villain, Rui, created a fake family in order to fill a void in their life as a demon. Rui ends up abusing their “family” to drive their superiority. They killed their parents at a young age while they were still human due to a fear of not being loved by them. The whole point of the arc was that everyone deserves some kind of loving family in their life. It’s hard to get through life by yourself even when you’re an independent spirit. I do feel though that certain relationships with family members/friends should be cut off if they are abusive like the case with Rui’s. There’s even more stories similar to this with the rest of the Twelve Moon demons (especially another family-related one with the arc that will be featured in Season 2 of the anime, which I might discuss later this year).

My Hero Academia is about moving forward with some reflection. Strive to be a hero of your life. Don’t think of the consequences as long as you’re saving innocent lives. Demon Slayer is also about moving forward, but remembering that there are points in your life where you need authentic connection and that bad people are still human beings who just feel disconnected from the world.

It also feels like both series address the issue of what connection-seeking traditions to pass on to newer generations that feel family/friendship seem lacking today. In My Hero Academia, there’s All for One’s desires to have successors to pass on his Quirk to even if they are dangerous. In Demon Slayer, there’s Kagaya Ubuyashiki, leader of the Demon Slayer Corps, who wanted to end his family’s curse and realizing over time that demons who wanted to fight back (like Tanjiro’s sister, Nezuko) against Muzan Kibutsuji should live. As someone who’s a Chinese-American, I've thought about what I could pass on as my culture has millennia of history and it does feel like age-old traditions/rituals are being passed over for materialistic convenience.

I do think it comes down to whether we pass on values or beliefs. Beliefs are basically “What’s good? What’s bad? This is real to me even if it’s not to anyone else!” There’s way too much emphasis on them. Beliefs tend to be very binary because people are often more than just their beliefs. Values are just abstract rules to everyday life and don’t involve personal beliefs. I feel like not enough emphasis is focused on values. For example, things like compassion and respect are values, not beliefs. I had to embrace what values I had to finally grow as a person because some of the beliefs I held to in my mind were hurting me.

Demon Slayer leans more toward appreciating values (usually ones that appeal to the Japanese mindset) due to Tanjiro’s personality, although My Hero Academia is a mix of appreciating both beliefs and values. While I do wish that “values > beliefs”, My Hero Academia does have some good insight on how beliefs can shape/warp values for both sides.

Both series take a look at the tension between family and the self in their own ways. It’s much more so with Demon Slayer due to how much the concept of family was important in the growth of Japan in the past. I think we can agree that while there are cultural differences in handling it, the idea of family is lost on both sides of the world. American and Japanese cultures aren’t very tolerate of “gray zones” (i.e. illegal immigrants who have families, sex workers who have families, etc.) and want life to be more black or white. That’s why many fans who don’t feel accepted for who they are look to other outlets for some kind of family that will accept them.

Healthy families of all kinds lead to stronger communities that in turn lead to a better world for everyone. I sometimes feel that modernity does family no favors. It’s fine to grow, but constant growth without self-reflection becomes harmful. Plus, family always comes back to affect you one way or another. You can’t ever fully get away from family as they’re the starting point to everyone’s life.

The only thing I can say is accept that your family/community, good and/or bad, is a part of your identity when you have conflicting thoughts and then take it from there. Denying that is just like trying to hide all your problems instead of dealing with them. It never ends well.

Blood is thicker than water and as both Demon Slayer and My Hero Academia show, when it’s shed, it can lead to disastrous consequences - both individually and collectively.

#My Hero Academia #psychology of heroes #mental health #superheroes #Demon Slayer #psychology of family #manga #anime #individualism #collectivism

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boukenboy · 3 years

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#19: 最後の約束の物語/Saigo no Yakusoku no Monogatari

The end is upon us. Endless waves of heartless machines strike at the castle walls in the besieged kingdom of Yggdra. Knowing nothing of the nature of their enemies, a small group of knights attempt to rescue as many of their fellow citizens as they possibly can against impossible odds. You play as Wolf, the group’s newly appointed leader. The castle falls in 24 hours. Welcome to the bright and cheery world of Saigo no Yakusoku no Monogatari! No pressure!

Released by now-defunct developer Imageepoch in 2011, SYM is one of the darkest RPGs I've ever had the pleasure to play. The game is dripping with a pounding sense of urgency and lurking horror, and features plenty of twists that had me genuinely disturbed. SYM is not afraid to kill off important characters, depict the worst of humanity, and, worst of all, features a harsh time limit: in this game, each quest completed advances an in-game clock which acts as a trigger to move the plot forward. The quests are similar to those you would find in an MMORPG: you're typically asked to go out into the ruined castle and rescue stranded citizens, and these usually end in a challenging encounter with a mechanized monstrosity.

And SYM’s combat is intense. As you progress through each chapter, the enemies you’ll contend with keep their pace with your party, meaning that you cannot rest on your laurels and mash the X button. You'll be buffing, debuffing, hitting elemental weaknesses, and managing a "hate" system, which is a feature found (again) in MMORPGs. Certain actions, such as healing and using AOE spells, will draw the ire of the enemy group, which can be deadly. Only the main character possesses abilities that can draw hate, so you'll be heavily reliant on him to manipulate the flow of battle. Thankfully, SYM gives him a variety of options to do so: one skill will have him act before the rest of the party, while another will activate after everyone's taken their turn. It's up to you to utilize him well, because if you don't, well..Welcome to the SP system!

Your party members have your normal HP and MP gauges, but each character, a bit like the Romancing SaGa series, has a separate stat called "Spirit Points." Each character starts off with a predetermined amount, and every time they're knocked out, they lose a handful of SP. The caveat is that there is only one way to restore SP, and once it is gone, they're dead. Forever. SYM is one of the few character-driven JRPGs to feature permadeath. You might think that, should a character be knocked out, the enemies will then turn their attention on your remaining members, but this is not the case. Your foes will relentlessly beat on your fallen comrade, knocking down their SP even further. In one disastrous battle early-game, my favorite character, Mallarme, lost nearly 20 SP in one go. Ouch.

You might be thinking, "But Danny! You said there's a way to restore SP! It can't be that bad!" but nah: in order to restore SP to a party member, another has to die. SYM's story is heavy on themes of sacrifice and carrying on despite inevitable odds, and I think it is a stroke of brilliance that Imageepoch managed to marry its story themes with gameplay. If you want everyone to survive, you're going to have to carefully switch characters out, all the while considering each member's strengths and weaknesses. Make the wrong choice, and they will die.

And the game doesn't make it easy: there's a slight experience modifier to help underleveled allies, but characters still level separately, making keeping everyone up to speed a chore. Every knight has a variety of skills, with some more specialized than others, but they're all pretty viable with the exception of Celes. I could not figure how to use her effectively: her magic attacks barely do any damage, and her buffing skills all come with certain drawbacks - mainly: they draw huge amounts of hate. Plus, should she or Wolf die for good, it's game over.

Each Messiah Knight also has access to certain techniques that consume SP instead of MP. These are essentially win buttons, doing massive amounts of damage, and have cool portrait cut-ins similar to all-out attacks in the Persona series. Theoretically, should you have trouble with the bosses, you could just spam these with characters you don't care about, but it is much more satisfying to win with the other tools the game provides you.

Personally, I chose to not use my favorite characters, and went with a “B Squad” of sorts for the majority of the game. It feels like SYM almost discourages you from using your favorites, as any mishap in battle can potentially cost you a great deal of SP damage. My plan was to push the “B Squad” characters to the grave, so that I could then finish the game with my favorites later. It felt cruel. I loved it.

Certain quests allow you to grow closer to the character of your choice, but these skits are disappointingly short and, as of this writing, shallow. In fact, the entire game could have used more fat in the story department. SYM has such an unique setting and atmosphere. You're not travelling the world or trying to kill God: you're a knight trapped in a ruined castle trying to save his people. I think RPGs that take on a more limited scope have a lot more opportunity to really breathe life into their settings, but SYM doesn't succeed in doing so.

The level designs are repetitive: with few exceptions, you'll spend the majority of the game traversing hallways peppered with the occasional treasure chest. If you're familiar with Persona 3, this shouldn't bother you too much, and I didn't mind it as a fan of Tartarus, but those looking for a more streamlined experience should look elsewhere. Enemy design is well-done, but I would have liked a bit more variety. There are a lot of palette swaps. In contrast, the end-of-chapter bosses are terrifying and super badass.

Overall, the themes presented in SYM are done much better in later Imageepoch titles, such as 7th Dragon: 2020, but the unique, desperate atmosphere present in this title makes it worth checking out. The game can be unbearably tedious at times, but unlike many JRPGS, SYM maintains a level of tension that never leaves the player. The constant threat of death and unrelenting melodrama makes it stand out amongst its peers. If Imageepoch’s budget for this title was just a little bigger, it could have been truly great, but its limitations hold it back. That being said, SYM does enough right that its still very much worth playing!

#gaymer #imageepoch #saigo no yakusoku no monogatari #jrpg #gaming #psp #retro gaming #retro game #game review

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melancholydreadfuldream · 4 years

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Going Under Part One

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: 13th Doctor x Reader

Summary: An accident during a routine adventure made your life spiraled out of control with only the Doctor as the anchor. Will you ever find your way back to your Doctor again?

Trigger Warning: ooc, angst, plot holes as usual, attempted suicide, dark!doctor, death, insanity, etc. You have been warned.

More warning: English is not my first language so beware of the headache you will receive upon reading this.

A/N: Ok, this is going to be a very disastrous story and to tell the truth, I have no idea how to wrap it up in a pretty bow. For this particular story, I put the song Going Under by Evanescence on a loop to get in the mood hence the title. As usual, this story probably filled with lot of plot holes, but that is to be expected in my fanfiction. I'm very afraid to post this actually. It would be very me to ended up writing a bad fanfiction that no one care to read. I have finished part two, actually, but I will post it on queue. Ugh, I'm throwing myself into the usual circle of hell of wondering whether writing this worth it or whether this is trash. Wish me luck, guys!

Part Two is here

I fell to the ground after I was shot by that light beam. I thought I was a goner. From the concerned sounds of the Doctor and the fam, they thought the same.

It was our usual routine adventure that almost always followed by a crisis that only the Doctor can solved. This time, the crisis involved human experiments. The Doctor is righteously pissed at the perpetrators. And one of the scientists shot at the Doctor using his experimental weapon and I pushed her out of the way.

The Doctor and the fam fussed over me.

I felt pain and then nothing. I think I lose my consciousness for a bit. I woke up to the sound of sonic screwdriver insistently scanning me. I forced myself to open my eyes and saw the relieved faces of the Doctor and the fam. I groaned. "What happened?"

The Doctor and the fam shared a chuckle at my respond.

"Don't ever do that again." The Doctor said with a firm tone.

Seeing her serious expression, I sighed. Eventhough she would have done the same as me if she was in my position, the time lady doth protest too much, methinks. But I'm not in the mood to argue, so I replied, "I won't."

The Doctor gazed at me with indecipherable expression. "We should go back to the Tardis. I have to scan you some more. I don't know what that weapon is, seem to malfunction, you are very lucky, (name). But just in case, I need to do more test on you."

"Whatever you want, doc."

"How are you feeling?" Yaz asked me as she helped me up.

"Like I was electrocuted? But...now I feel kind of okay." I said.

"You scared all of us." Ryan said.

"Sorry. But I'm fine, see?" I decided to do a dramatic spinning and I regretted it when I lost my balance.

The Doctor catches me before I fall. "Not so fine after all..." she murmured. She is surprisingly very strong.

"Okay, I might need a rest." I admitted.

The Doctor made Yaz and Ryan led me back to the Tardis as she had to deal with the scientists.

7777

Yaz and Ryan took me to my room back inside the Tardis. I thanks them for their help before hugging one of my stuffed animals pillow on the bed and blissfully fell into a deep sleep.

I woke maybe a few hours later. The room is cold. I felt so uncomfortable as I forced myself to open my eyes. I was surprised to find myself on the floor in a very dark room. I reach around my pant for my smartphone and turned on the flashlight. I found the door and got out. I could hear the voices of the Doctor and the fam in the console room so I went over there.

"Guys, how did I ended up on the floor in some random room?" I asked loudly.

The Doctor and the fam froze as they saw me.

The Doctor quickly approached me and demanded in a very scary tone, "Who are you? How did you get on board of my Tardis?"

I was confused. "What do you mean?"

"We are inside the time vortex. How did you get here? And when did you even get in?"

I stared at her in confusion. "Doctor, what are you talking about?"

"Y-you know who I am?" The Doctor asked. She look at me in skeptical.

"Of course I do. Duh. We have been travelling together for a while." I said. "Ryan, is this one of your prank? Did you get her to play along?"

Ryan look very confused. "Err, you know me?"

"Ok, this is not funny, guys." I complained. "I'm so tired after our latest adventures. I mean, I did get shot. I'm really not in the mood for whatever prank this is."

The Doctor and the fam exchanged a look at each other.

They were making me nervous now.

"We don't know who you are." It was Yaz who replied.

"That's not funny, Yaz." I said. "Just stop it, guys."

"How did you know my fam? Who are you?" The Doctor demanded as she grabbed my wrist in warning.

"Doctor, you are hurting me. What is wrong with you?" I yelled angrily as I tried to pull my wrist free of her strong grip.

"Err, doc, I think we all need to calm down some." Graham said.

The Doctor released me grudgingly.

I massaged my wrist. "Had I known you would act this way, I would let that scientist shot you."

"What scientist?" The Doctor asked.

"You said you were shot? Where are you injured?" Yaz asked.

I sighed. "Are we still playing this? You are all there when he shot at the Doctor and I pushes her out of the way." I glared at the Doctor. "Don't worry, doc, I won't shield you again next time." I said sarcastically.

The Doctor pulled her sonic screwdriver and scanned me. "Human."

"Of course, I am human! Guys, I'm so..." I trailed as I finally take a good long look at them and realized they really have no idea who I am. "You really have no idea who I am?"

The fam nodded in unison.

I could feel myself start to panic. "Oh God, is this the side effect of that shot? Did it makes you guys forgot all about me? I mean it was experimental weapon. And, doc, you promised to do a scan on me in the Tardis to see if there is any other...damages..."

"I don't know who you are and what your plan is but if you are planning to..."

"I'm not! I am not the enemy, okay! Just chill!" I yelled at her when I noticed she is about to give me her oncoming storm rants. I quickly pulled my smartphone.

The Doctor raised her sonic screwdriver at me warningly.

"I have proof, okay?" I placated. I went through my phone and to the gallery. I showed them our many selfie group pictures. "Here."

The Doctor grabbed my phone and took a few step back. The fam goes to see the pictures in disbelief.

"How is this possible?" Yaz asked the Doctor.

The Doctor observed the pictures and then she stared at me. "What is your name?"

"It's (name). (name) (last name)." I replied weakly.

The Doctor nodded and went to the console, pushing some button. The monitor suddenly turned on and show information on me. While at it, the Doctor performed a scan on me via the Tardis. She also cloned my phone so that she can investigates the pictures. I think she suspected it was fake photoshop picture or something.

"Satisfied yet? I'm not lying, okay."

The Doctor hummed. "We will see."

I groaned in annoyance.

While the Doctor busy consulting with the Tardis, I sat on one of the stairs. I watched the Doctor and the fam stay far away from me and whispered really quiet. I sighed.

The Tardis suddenly bleeping loudly and the Doctor run around the console and then stopped in front of the monitor, reading the information provided by the sentient ship.

The Doctor look awed, her mouth dropped open. She turned to look at me.

"What is it?" I asked.

"According to this, you are from an alternate universe." The Doctor replied. "But how did you even ended up here?"

"You are asking me? I have no idea. Last thing I remember is sleeping in my room at the Tardis and then I woke up here." I said.

"Tell me exactly what happened before. You said that you were shot...by some scientist?" The Doctor asked.

So I told her exactly what happened.

7777

While The Doctor is busy figuring out what exactly happened to me, I sat alone at the kitchen's Tardis. At least the way to the kitchen is still the same. I made myself a coffee and sat staring at my cup absentmindedly.

Ryan come in and sat with me for a while. He was curious about the other Ryan and asked me to tell stories about my own adventure back in my universe.

I sighed. It seemed I have come to accept what is happening to me. I am indeed in twilight zone where I have never met the Doctor and the fam thus never boarded the Tardis. I was kind of sad so to distract my mind, I relented and tell him whatever he want to know.

Eventually Yaz joined us. We started talking about our respective adventures and about the Doctor. We got a laugh over the Doctor being pretty much the same in any universe.

I don't know how long we talked but I was grateful for them for easing my loneliness. I finally noticed the Doctor is standing leaning against the doorway, watching us. A small smile touched her lips as she watches us.

"Doctor." I called out. "Did you find anything?"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry. Unless we found the weapon they used on you, I can't exactly figure it out."

"So, we have to go to the place where the scientists are? Okay. Let's go." I said, eager to get this over with so I can go back to my Doctor and my friends. "I mean, I guess we should find your version of the scientists who did this to me, right? So that you can take a look at the weapon?"

The Doctor look impressed with me.

"Then what are waiting for?"

"Tomorrow." The Doctor replied. "We are all tired. You look tired."

I wanted to protest but she shushed me.

"Come on I will show you to your room." The Doctor said.

7777

The Doctor left me in my new room. The room is just ordinary without any of personal touch. I felt the loneliness come back. I laid on the bed, trying to hold back my tears. I pulled my phone and swipe on the pictures of my Doctor and my fam. I hope to God that I could return back to them as soon as possible. "Please don't let me be trapped here." I whispered. I fell asleep soon after.

I woke up to the concerned voices of the Doctor and the fam. I opened my eyes in confusion. I wasn't in my room. The Tardis med-bay, my mind supplied.

The Doctor and the fam looked at me with troubled expression.

"Doctor? What happened?"

"You're awake."

"How did I get here? I was in my room."

"The Doctor is checking on you and she found you in a seizure." Yaz replied. "You really had all of us scared out of our mind."

I smiled a little. I felt bad for intruding on them when they didn't even know me. I frowned. I didn't remember getting a seizure though. I looked up toward the Doctor. "Thank you for checking up on me. You saved me."

"We are even then..." The Doctor said.

"Yeah."

The Doctor gazed at me. "Do you feel any pain right now?"

"Not really, just really really tired." I trailed. My eyes widened suddenly as I look at the Doctor. "we are even?"

The Doctor looked confused. "Yeah, you did saved me first, by pushing me out of the way."

"You know me!" I yelled suddenly. "You know me, right?" I asked her and then turned to the fam. "You guys too? Yaz? Ryan? Graham?"

The Doctor and the fam stared at me as if I had gone insane and exchanged a look with each other.

"err, did she get a concussion, doc?" Ryan asked.

"Hey!!" I yelled. "Focus!! Who am I?"

"You don't know?" Graham asked.

"Of course I know who I am. Do you? Come on, guys, work with me here!" I said as I forced myself to get up despite their protests. "Who am I?" I barked at them. If the situation is different, I would have laugh at how angry I sounded but I was desperate for them to make sure they do know me.

The Doctor stared at me and then replied, "You are (name)."

"And?" I urged. "Did I travel with you and them in the Tardis?"

"You know you do, (name)." Yaz said. "What's gotten into you?"

I sighed in relief at their confirmation. I laughed. "I'm back!" I laughed some more as tears suddenly fell into my cheeks.

"(name), are you alright?" Graham asked cautiously.

"You guys won't believe what happened to me." I said. And I told them what happened to me earlier.

7777

I sulked. They don't believe me. At all. Because according to them, I have been sleeping in my room that whole time. Even the Doctor said what I'm experiencing is probably a nightmare. In a way, it made sense. The Doctor and the fam never knew me? My greatest fear.

I sat on the stairs on the console room. After what happened to me, regardless whether it was real or not, I don't feel like to be alone so I sat there, watching the Doctor at the console.

The Doctor noticed me and decided to join me at the stairs.

"So, a seizure, huh? Was it because of that weapon? Have you figure out what that weapon are? Did it meant to give the victim a nightmare and a seizure?" I asked the Doctor.

The Doctor look troubled.

"Doctor?"

"Don't worry, (name), it will be okay."

"So there is something to worry about?"

"Of course not."

"But you just said..."

The Doctor surprised me when she suddenly grabbed my face. I blushed at the close proximity.

"Just trust in me, (name)." She said as she put her forehead over mine. "Just trust the Doctor."

"I do trust you, Doctor." I said softly.

I feel dizzy all of sudden and fell to the floor, unable to balance myself. "Ow, what the hell...? That is some headache..." I looked up and frowned when I realized I was alone. "Doctor?"

7777

My eyes widened as I take in the console room. It was different from what I used to. But there is no one in the console room. Fear nagging on the corner of my mind. Have I gone insane? Or did I somehow travel somewhere else again?

I know the Tardis is not in mid-flight, it was already landed somewhere so I got out of the Tardis to check it out. As I opened the door, I saw the beach and a man in a trench coat was there, nursing a banana daiquiri. He had his ties tied around his forehead and a black sunglasses covered his face. He was drunk as a skunk. With no one in sight, I had no choice but to go to him for information.

"Hello." I greeted.

The man glanced at me and smiled brightly. "Why, hello there. Where did you come from? No one go to this beach this time of the years..."

"Yeaah...about that...where am I...exactly? I'm kinda lost...?"

He beamed. "I'm good with lost thing. Oops, where is my manner? Hulla there, I'm the Doctor."

My jaw dropped in shock. "W-what? You? You are the Doctor?" I asked.

"Yeah, do you know of me then?" He asked in dopey manner.

"But...you are a man..." I said dumbly.

"Of course I am a man. What else I could be?" He asked almost like I insult him.

"Right. She said she was once a Scotsman before. It was a time lord thingies, was it?"

He sobered up almost immediately. "How did you know that?"

"I'm not the enemy, okay? Everytime!" I yelled, pissed at his tone that is almost accusing. I admitted I was being dramatic. It was only one time but I just hated being questioned of my intention. But then again, this version of the Doctor never met me so of course he will be suspicious.

He frowned at me.

"Look, Doctor. I don't know what is happening to me. I keep waking up into different Tardis than the one that I know of. My Doctor said everything is alright but as you can see, the fact that I'm here instead with her means something is wrong. I knew she is holding out something on me. Trust in the Doctor, my ass!" I ranted.

He blinked at me. "Soo, you are a future companion of mine then? And I will be a Time Lady in the future?"

I blinked back at him. "You are taking this surprisingly well. I thought you would give me the oncoming storm speech. Considering I have no proof that I am indeed your future companion..."

"I feel like you are quite genuine to fake it."

"err, thanks?"

He grinned a boyish grin at me. "Right then, off to the Tardis we are!" He said as he grabbed my hand toward the Tardis.

I pulled away from him. "Bit forward, aren't you?"

"What? Didn't your Doctor grab your hand and told you to run?"

"Noo. She told me to get off my ass and help her barricade the door."

"Oh."

"We were under alien attack, you see, it was my first time to see alien so I was kinda out of it."

"Right. That sounded like interesting story which we can continue on the Tardis. Come on."

I followed him obediently.

7777

I told him what happened to me, about the shooting, about the alternate universe.

The Doctor hummed as he pushed some button on the Tardis as he made the machine scan me.

"So, am I in the past or am I in some random alternate universe?" I asked.

The Doctor frowned as he observed the monitor containing information on whatever it is he is working on.

"What is it?"

"Nothing." He said as he tried to pulled the monitor away from me but I was faster this time and I saw it.

"Ooh..." I was understandably shocked. Because according to the Tardis database, I don't exist.

"Different universe yeah?" He said as if trying to console me.

"Yeah." I nodded numbly. "But... you believe me?"

He nodded. "Course."

I sighed in relief. "Can you get me back home?"

"I will most certainly try."

I nodded gratefully. "Thank you."

He smiled at me. "So, since you are from alternate universe, it meant whatever you tell me will not be spoiler. So tell me about your Doctor. I have never regenerated into a woman before. What was I like?"

"Well, you love to talk, I guess you are always like that, huh?"

"Love talking." He said cheekily.

I described my Doctor to him. He gave me an amused smile. "What?"

"Sounded like you fancy her..."

I blushed. "Shut up. She is my best friend, okay."

He grinned.

My stomach choose that moment to protest in hunger much to my embarassment.

He chuckled. "Come on, let's go to the kitchen."

I followed him gratefully. "Doctor, where are your companion?"

His smile vanished. "I wasn't taking anyone currently."

"Ooh." I felt bad for bringing that up because it sure ruined his mood. "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"For whatever happened to you or your companion."

He look surprised.

"You have that sad eyes, like my Doctor. Before she met me and the fam, she lost someone too."

He smiled sadly. "Yeah that tends to happened." He sighed and then he stared at me. "The fam?"

I shrugged. "It is what she called us."

"Blimey how many companion did she have right now?"

I told him about the fam happily. He was lonely, I can tell. I wonder what happened to his companion. But I know better than to ask that. So all I can do is tell him about my funny adventures to ease his loneliness. We entered the kitchen and he started preparing a light snack and tea for me.

7777

I woke up on the floor...again.

"err, how did you get here?" A young man suddenly waved me for attention.

"W-what? Where am I?" I asked in confusion.

"You are in the Tardis kitchen but how did you get here?"

"Are you the Doctor?"

"No. I'm Rory, my wife and I travel with him." He said. "Are you alright?" He look concerned.

"My head hurts." I said. "Can you get me to the Doctor please?"

He nodded. "Wait here." He quickly left and yelled for Amy and the Doctor.

My head hurts really badly. I felt like I'm about to throw up. I forced myself to stand up and walked out of the kitchen and fell.

7777

"DOCTOOOORR!!" A young woman screamed loudly making me wince. "Hey, are you alright?"

I groaned. "I'm not okay. I think I'm dying..." I said.

"DOCTOOOORRR!!"

I groaned. "Please stop yelling at me. God, I'm in hell..."

"Sorry."

"Clara, what's with all the yelling?" An old man dressed like a magician suddenly appeared.

"Look at her."

"Who is she? Did you invite a stranger without my permission?"

"I did not! I found her in the corridor like that." Clara said with a glare.

He sonic-ed me. "You looked like hell."

"I'm dying..." I said almost petulantly.

"She kept saying that..." Clara said.

"Get her to the medbay."

Contrary to my belief, I was not dying. Apparently I was dehydrated. The Doctor gave me some infusion. I felt so much better now.

The Doctor and the young woman who identified as Clara stared at me curiously as I devoured some food they gave me.

"Right, you want an explanation." I said.

"That would be great, yeah." Clara said.

"Well, what did the Tardis tell you? Am I at least exist here?" I asked.

The Doctor frowned. "How do you mean?"

"The last universe I was in, the Doctor told me that I didn't exist. The one before that apparently never met me. I'm so tired. I just want to go home to my Doctor and my friends." I said tiredly.

"Tell me exactly what happened to you." The Doctor demanded suddenly.

And so I did. Again.

"So, ever since the shot, you have been crossing all over the universe?" Clara asked in awe.

I sighed. "That, or my Doctor is right and this is all just happening in my head. A nightmare of some kind. Though I didn't think so. Even I wouldn't be able to conjure so many detail about the Doctor."

The Doctor told me that the Doctor I met in the beach is his tenth incarnation and that he was the Twelfth one.

"Yeah, I think my Doctor is after this you. She mentioned that she used to be a Scotsman before." I replied.

"Wait, your Doctor is a woman?" Clara asked giddily. "Oh, I have to meet her."

The Doctor gave Clara a look.

"What? I am curious. You as a woman." Clara said with a grin at the Doctor. "Tell me what she look like." She asked me.

"Am I allowed to tell her?" I asked the Doctor. "Am I in the past or...?" I'm almost afraid to ask.

"You are in an alternate universe. And you did exist here." The Doctor said.

I nodded.

"Well? Tell me please." Clara urged me.

I grinned at her and told her what she wanted to know.

The Doctor pretended to be busy with something else but both Clara and I know he is secretly listening. He asked me for some blood sample and I let him. I trust him.

The last words my Doctor left me...trust in the Doctor. So I did.

7777

I woke up alone in the Tardis medbay. I sighed, resigning myself to be in another random place of universe. I wonder where I ended up right now.

I got out of the medbay trying to find the Doctor. For once, I recognized the Tardis interior. My hearts swelled with hope that I am back at home. I walked as fast as I can to the console room hoping to find the Doctor or the fam. I found none.

I got out of the Tardis. I was in some alien planet. Without thinking for my safety, I stepped out of the Tardis. And then I saw her. The Doctor. My Doctor. But does she know me?

The Doctor stood alone, looking so lonely. My heart ached for her.

"Doctor?" I called out.

The Doctor turned around and her eyes widened as she saw me. "(name)? Is it really...you?" she stuttered my name.

I gave her a hesitant smile. "It's me."

She hugged me and she actually burst into tears.

I hugged her back but I was confused. "Doctor, what's wrong?"

She pulled out of the hug and put both of her hands over my face. She smiled sadly. "My (name)..."

I felt uncomfortable. I like her so much. In fact, I could actually admitted that I have a crush on her. But the way she called my name, it's almost like we are lovers which I know we are not.

"I missed you so much." She said with a sob.

I was floored. The Doctor? Doing emotion? Something is wrong with her. "Doctor, where is the fam?"

She sobered up immediately. A dark expression crossed her features.

"What's it?"

"I lost them...to the cyberman."

I blinked. "Jack's warning..."

She nodded sadly.

"What happened?"

"I failed them." She only said that, not wanting to relive the painful memory.

I wanted to cry. I can't believe it. The fam can't be gone. "How long have I been gone?"

She didn't answer. Instead she turned around and walked toward to a bunch of stone. I followed her and I froze when I saw it.

It was my graveyard. The stone has my name carved on it.

I shook my head. "This isn't it. This isn't home." I whispered.

"She said that too." The Doctor said. "You, she died in my arms. She died in pain and she kept screaming that she wanted to go home."

I was shook to the core. Is this my future? Did I just give myself a spoiler?

"I never understand what is happening to her. I tried to make sense of it. It sounded like she was being torn apart from the inside." The Doctor said with a forlorn look.

I shook my head in disbelief. I ran back toward the Tardis. I screamed while I was inside. "Please, please take me back home! I'm done with this! I'm done!!"

The Doctor entered the Tardis. Her eyes looked sad.

I ignored her as I broke down in tears. I bend my knees on the floor and cried.

She also sat beside me and hugged me close.

"What is happening to me? Please fix me, Doctor." I begged her. "Please..."

The Doctor nodded weakly. "I will. Of course, I will."

I stared at her. "Promise me." I demanded. I know I was being cruel. "I want to go back to my Doctor and to my friends."

"I promise."

The Doctor lies. That's what the Master once told me when we met. She won't lie, would she?

I made the mistake to gaze at her and I saw something frightening in her features.

7777

I blinked and froze when I saw Twefth Doctor and Clara again. I was in a different console room again.

They stared at me.

"You are back." Clara said.

My whole body just trembled mixture of fear, shock and relief.

"I just found out I will die a painful death." I blurted as I wipe my tears off with my sleeve.

The Doctor and Clara blinked at me.

"I'm so tired of saying this. But for the love of God, please help me, Doctor." I begged him.

The Doctor stared at me and nodded. "Your blood sample come back. You are indeed dying."

"Doctor!" Clara shouted in warning.

I nodded and laughed harshly. "I figures as much."

"There is something changing your DNA and it made you into a personal time machine. One that seemed to anchor yourself to the Doctor. Any Doctor. Any universes." The Doctor said. "And you are only human, your body can't take it. You are dying a slow death."

I sighed. "I guess the good thing about this is it was me instead of the Doctor." I said softly. If I had not pushed my Doctor out of the way, it would be her in this predicament. The thought of the Doctor dying, I shuddered. The universe will be screwed.

The Doctor looked like he was being slapped. "She would not want that. I, she would not want you to die in her place."

"I didn't want to die either. But..." I stared at Clara. "You would do the same for him, wouldn't you?"

Clara stared at her Doctor solemnly. "In a heartbeat."

The Doctor gazed at Clara.

"Right, okay? Is there a way to at least prolong my life?" I asked them, broke them from their loving gaze.

The Doctor replied without looking at me, "Working on it... Would be easier if you led me to the scientists so I can take a look at their project."

"Right." I tried to wreck my brain to remember what planet the Doctor took me that times. I was at loss.

He rolled his eyes. "Human. Pudding brain."

"Hey!!" Both Clara and I yelled at him.

He grabbed me and told me to put my hands on the Tardis telepathic circuit. He told me to focus on my memory of that planet. So I did.

7777

I was in a middle of a town square. The town sign told me it was Christmas. I groaned. "Now what?"

I heard the unmistakable sound of a sonic screwdriver and a man in bow tie is wielding it at me.

"Hello, there, I'm the Doctor."

"I know. The sonic screwdriver kinda gives you away."

"You know me then?"

I sighed. "This is bullshit. Doctor, I'm a future companion, okay? I traveled with your Thirteenth incarnation. But I might be from another universes. It has been happening a lot lately. And I'm dying apparently."

The Doctor glared at me and let out a harsh chuckle. "Nice one. But I am on my last regeneration and I don't have anymore. So, who are you, really?"

I stared at him disbelief. "You have got to be joking. I don't have a proof, okay? But I wasn't lying."

"Yeah, you are not lying about dying, are you?" The Doctor said as he read the result of his scan from his sonic screwdriver.

I fell silent to that. "Fine." I said. "Don't believe me for all I care. I won't be here long anyway. I probably gonna disappear to another universe, another you again soon." I crossed my arms, well aware that I'm sulking.

He frowned at that. "You are from another universe." He stared at me as he circled me around.

"Oh now you are curious, are you not?" I mocked him in my anger. I shuddered in cold.

He sighed and he pulled his jacket and gave it to me much to my surprise.

I took it and murmured a small thank you.

He took me inside a tower.

"Soo...you believe me?"

"You can't tell a lie here. There is a truth field in this planet. So, yeah, I do believe you." He said as he gave me some hot tea. "So, tell me about what's been happening to you. Sounded like you have a tough day."

"You have no idea. And honestly, I'm tired of having to tell it over and over again to every version of you. I never stick around long enough to get some answers." I said solemnly.

"Tell me anyway." He requested.

And so I did. Again.

7777

I felt dizzy. "Oh great..." I moaned without opening my eyes.

"Found you." Someone suddenly grabbed me from behind and hugged me.

It was the Thirteenth Doctor but from her voice, I could tell immediately she is not the one.

I tried to move away from her but she kept me still. "Doctor?" I called out.

"My (name)..." She whispered and then she put some sort of a collar on me.

I struggled against her but it was futile. "What the hell is this?"

"I found a way to keep you from splintering again." She said as she released me.

I fingered the collar. "This?" I asked as I turned to face her. I noticed she was dressed differently from her usual clothing. Everything about her feels different.

She nodded solemnly.

"Splintering?" I asked.

"Basically you tearing every atom in your body by traveling all over the alternate universe."

"So, as long as I wear this, I can stay here."

She beamed. "Yes. With me."

"But, if you are from my future, wouldn't this be a paradox or something?"

She smiled at me chillingly as she caresses my cheek. "Don't worry your pretty face about it." She said. "There, I keep my promise. I fix you, my dear."

I forced a smile for her despite feeling really uncomfortable and also I can't help that bad feeling nagging in my gut. Instead I said, "But does it have to be a collar?"

She laughed in delight. "Would you prefer a ring instead?"

I blushed at that. "Maybe." I muttered. "Because this collar isn't really me at all."

She smiled at me in fondness. "Then I will work on it for you." She pulled my hand. "Come on, you must be tired and hungry."

I followed her to a room. I didn't recognize it.

"This is my room." She said.

I blinked in surprise and took a look at the room. "It's nice." I said lamely.

She grinned. "Come, sit with me. Tell me all about your adventures."

I stared at her warily but did as requested. She gave me plenty of food and drink and it was all my favorite. I smiled at her.

7777

I must have fallen asleep. I blinked for once realizing I'm still in the same place. The collar did work after all. But the Doctor is nowhere to be found.

I walked out of the room and take a glance at the corridors. I decided to go find some food in the kitchen when I heard voices in the distant followed by some bleeping light on the corridor. Almost like the Tardis is trying to guide me somewhere. So I followed it.

I wish I didn't. I can't believe what I saw. The Doctor. She had a hostage on board of the Tardis. I distinctly recognized the scientist that shot at me. The Doctor is torturing him.

I felt like I was being punched. I was so scared. I wanted to confront her, to demand her for explanation but that bad feeling in the pit of my gut come back full force. I decided not to risk it. I slowly left the place, hoping she didn't notice me.

As soon as I was a safe distance away from the Doctor, I pulled on my collar wanting to rip it free but realized in horror that I couldn't.

"Nooo. This can't be happening. What is happening?" I muttered to myself, shaken in fear.

I touched the wall and hesitantly speak toward the sentient machine. "You purposely show me that. What do you want me to do?"

There is no answer. I felt weak in my knees. I let myself fall to the floor, hugging my knees and cried.

A hologram suddenly appeared before me. It was the hologram of the Thirteenth Doctor but it was wearing the original clothing. It was staring at me in somber.

"Tardis?" I asked.

"Run." It said.

"What?"

The hologram suddenly vanished as the real Doctor suddenly showed up. She was staring at me with a look I can't decipher.

"You should have stay back in my room, (name)." She said solemnly.

"Why did the Tardis tell me to run from you?" I demanded.

She shrugged. "She is just confused. My old girl."

"She is warning me about you." I said.

She rolled her eyes. "Come on, (name), be reasonable."

"Reasonable? I'm not the one who has been torturing people!" I snapped.

I know I did something wrong when a dark expression crossed her feature.

"You saw it, didn't you?" She said in resignation. "Oh, well..." She moved toward me.

I stopped her. "Don't."

"Don't be afraid of me, (name), I would never hurt you."

"You just going to keep me as your pet, is that it?" I asked.

She blinked at that. "I promise I will change that collar into a ring soon."

"This is not about the damn collar!" I yelled.

She didn't look bothered by my outburst.

"Actually, yes, this is about the collar." I recanted as I tried to pulled it off. "Why can't I take it off?" I demanded.

She smiled chillingly. "I have to make sure you will stay with me."

I shook my head in denial. "Who are you? The Doctor I know wouldn't do this to me."

She snorted. "You don't know me that well, (name)."

"You are right. And right now, I don't want to know you."

She look like she was being slapped. She growled at me. "Stand up."

I glared at her. "No. You go away." I said petulantly.

"(name) (last name), do not test me."

"Leave me alone." I said as I closed my eyes, covering both of my ears. "Just leave me alone!"

Silence. And then I felt her hands pulled my hands away from my ears as she put her forehead over mine. And then she whispered, "Never."

I opened my eyes to look at her and stunned at her sorrowful expression. Part of me almost wanting to comfort her.

And then everything went to black.

7777

When I woke up next, I was hoping to be somewhere else. The one time I wish I could leave, I got stuck. I woke up in a room, not the Doctor's room from earlier. I was alone. The Doctor is nowhere to be found. I realized in horror that this particular room does not have a door. I can't tell the way out.

The Doctor never showed her face to me for the next few hours? days? I don't know. At first, I didn't care. I did wonder if she is planning to starve me as she has not given me any sustenance. Strangely enough I did not feel hunger or thirsty. Heck, I didn't even need to go to the bathroom which is probably a good thing as it would be embarrassing if I have to pee or more all over the place. Though it did make me wonder if I was already dead. Why else would I not require sustenance?

There was nothing to do in the room. I was alone with my thoughts. And I was never good at being alone. I refused to let her win though. I know she is punishing me, a silent treatment of sort. For a time, I was fine with it. I thought of my favorite stories, my favorite scene in a movie, a favorite song, anything to get my mind off the loneliness.

"Tardis?" I called out hesitantly. "Can you...talk to me?"

Nothing.

I sighed as I sat on the floor, hugging my knees close. I was bored out of my mind. I started wondering if this will be the end of me.

Eventually the Doctor did visited me but she always appeared out of nowhere. I tried to be vigilant on her next visit in hope I could catch a glimpse of the way out. No such luck.

She gave me some book to read and an ipod containing music. She even brought some flower and put it on a small table.

I was curious about how long I have been here and how it is I remained alive without sustenance for so long.

"This is a time vault. It basically forcing you to stay alive." She explained. "Like the flower I brought in, it won't require water to remain blooming. This place sort of paused your time, I suppose."

"Why am I here?"

"It is for your safety."

"So, this is a prison."

"It doesn't have to be. I just need you to accept your reality."

"And what is my reality, Doctor?"

The Doctor stared at me. "If you have to ask, that's meant you still didn't get it."

My eyes widened as I realized something. "I'm still dying, aren't I?"

The Doctor flinched immediately and I know I was right.

"Even with the collar, I am still dying. It just stopped me from...splintering away." I said as I stared her down.

She didn't reply.

"I was right, wasn't I? That's why I am here in this...Time Vault. You put me...on pause."

She smiled solemnly at me. "500 points for (name)." she said, her joking tone fell flat.

I shook my head. "This is insane. This is all wrong. You have got to let me go."

"If I do, you will die."

"Maybe that's what I want!"

"You didn't mean that."

I didn't reply. I know it's pointless to argue with her, so this time, I'm the one who give her silent treatment.

She sighed and then she left. She left me alone for so long. The next time she come in, I almost felt relieved, craving for any company.

I know she did this on purpose. She wanted to put that Stockholm syndrome thing on me. But I won't let it come to that. It was a time like this that I wish I could actually do some meditation to clear my mind and stuff.

I think I go insane for a bit. I started talking to the shadow created by my slowly deteriorating mind. The books laid scattered on the floor, torn apart. So does the flowers and the vase and the table. I didn't destroy the ipod. Yet.

I started laughing at the song 'Sweet but Psycho'. It reminded me of the situation I'm in for some reason. And then I started crying. Then I threw away the ipod across the room. My emotion is all over the place lately.

The Doctor came in once in a while and she was nice and friendly one minute and shut me down next. I begged her to let me out of this room. I begged and promised I won't run. But she didn't believe me. I hated her so much at that moment and I yelled it at her. She left again.

I screamed and I cried. I demanded the Tardis to talk to me, to help me. But, of course, she didn't respond. Needless to say, I ruined the room again. I know the room will clean up by itself again later on, no matter the damage.

One day, the door suddenly showed itself. I had to blink my eyes a few times to make sure I wasn't dreaming.

"Run."

I heard the word in my mind and I did. I bolted out immediately. I have no idea the surrounding around me but the small light appearing on the corridor guided me somewhere to a another room....where a single hanging rope and a medium chair is waiting for me.

I frowned and then I giggled. I guess I did lose my mind because I walked toward it. I stood on the chair and fingered the rope that is fitting around my neck. I guess this is the only way I can escape. I kicked the chair and almost immediately the breath is knocked out of me as I struggled against the rope. It was painful and it took so long for me to black out completely.

Suddenly an alarm ringing loudly as I was about to black out. I could heard the Doctor screaming at me or the Tardis?

The Doctor pulled me down and laid me on the floor. She was crying. I almost feel sorry for her. She took off the rope and the collar.

Oh. So, that's why the Tardis did this. I suddenly having a realization. I wanted to laugh but I couldn't.

The Doctor pulled some injection and hit it on somewhere on my body and I gasped really loudly and coughed hard. She laughed and cried in relief at the same time. She hugged me tight. "Don't ever do that again, (name)! I can't lose you!" she begged me.

Whatever that injection is, it was a very good drug as I could feel the pain is gone. My hand rubbed the rope burn mark on my neck. I realized if I ever could have any control over the splintering, now would be the good time. As much it pained me to left her behind, I know my presence here is bad for her.

I could feel myself being ripped away right at that moment.

The heartbroken look on the Doctor's face seared forever in my mind.

7777

I stumbled down and someone caught me in their arms. I could see a visible blond hair and my blood ran cold. What if I was still with her? I screamed.

The owner of the blonde hair also screamed, more like in surprise than anything. It was then I realized it wasn't the Doctor.

I pushed the woman away from me and I ran blindly into another person who grabbed me firmly. "Let me go! Just leave me alone!" I screamed.

The man calmed me down. "It's okay. You're okay. You're safe." And somehow, I did calm down some but I was still sobbing.

"Doctor, who is she?" The woman I pushed asked. "She appeared out of nowhere."

"Doctor, I think she is hurt." Another voice said. It was a man. I recognized that voice. It was Jack Harkness, I think. "Look at her neck..."

The man who grabbed me pulled my hair aside and frowned when he saw the rope burn around my neck. "Who did this to you?"

I laughed hysterically. "I did this. I have to get her to take it off." I said. "well, I had help, isn't that right, old girl?" I looked up toward the ceiling

"Take what off?" Jack asked.

"Are you talking to the Tardis?" The Doctor asked in the same time.

"I guess she wouldn't know me, different Tardis, different Doctor." I said. "The Doctor, my Doctor...She has gone insane. I am too, I guess. She wanted to keep me even though I already died." I laughed again. "i'm going to die in pain, she said. I'm scared." I whispered. "The fam is dead too. She said she failed them. She put me on pause." I said and giggled at how ridiculous that sounded.

I know they are probably confused with my incoherent babbling but I really don't care. I told them about the collar and the Time Vault. Their Doctor is probably the only one who can put the pieces together from my rambling.

"Wait, I'm confused, some woman that has the same name as you did this to her?" Rose asked.

Jack's eyes widened as he glanced at the Doctor. He know a bit about Time Lord from his time as a Time agent so he knew about regeneration.

The Doctor nodded at Jack. "She is from the future. My future." He look troubled, probably feeling ill when he realized I'm a future companion and as I babbled on, spoiler that his future-self has gone insane.

I chuckled. "I might not. I could be from alternate universe. That has been happening to me, always alternate universe, always another Doctor. But never the correct Doctor. She said I should trust in the Doctor. I tried. But her future-self is torturing people even if she did it to the person who shot me. I can never go home." I said and I cried, wailing actually.

The Doctor awkwardly trying to comfort me. Of course, he wanted to know the mystery behind me even though I'm sick of telling it to the Doctor. But before I could, I finally recognized the somewhat tingling feeling as I was about to be ripped away once more.

7777

I dropped on my knees and coughed blood. Well, this is new.

"(name)? (name)!" A man rushed toward me. "Are you hurt? Where are you hurt?" He demanded as he check me for injuries.

I looked up to see the Tenth Doctor and he wasn't alone. He recognized me which I'm grateful because I think I'm going to throw up if I have to repeat everything again.

"Doctor, I think she is sick. She is coughing blood. And look at her neck! Is that...? Did someone strangle her with a rope?" The woman fussed over me.

The Doctor introduced me to Martha, a medical student. He pulled up my chin and asked with a very serious manner, "Who did this to you?"

I wanted to answer but I coughed up again and then I fainted.

7777

I was expecting to be pulled into another place but I woke up to the Doctor and Martha fussing over me at the Tardis medbay.

I have a clearer mind now. I guess my nervous breakdown has dissipated now. Plus it seemed I got a good rest from that fainting despite the blood bonus. I coughed up again. When I saw the blood, I chuckled. "So, it's finally happening..."

The Doctor stared at me. "What happened to you?"

"A lot. And frankly, I'm tired. I'm dying, I'm sure you know from the scanning." I said. "I went to the future, my future, and my friends are all dead and the Doctor is insane." I was being brutally blunt now.

Despite my words about his alternate version being insane, he seemed to be taking it well. "How can I help?" The Doctor asked instead as he took one of my hand in a gesture of comfort.

"A cure would be nice. A cure for what did this to me." I said. I told him to investigate their version of the scientist who did this to me. Chances are they would also developing the weapon used to shot me with. Hopefully.

The Doctor agreed with me.

"Tell me your finding when or if we meet again..." I said.

The Doctor and Martha looked at me in confusion.

I smiled weakly and waved goodbye at them as I felt myself being pulled to another place in another time.

A/N2: Ok, it's great if you read this till the end despite how bad this is. Just wanna say thank you for reading. Also thank you for those who follow my blog and has leave likes/comment/reblog on my past stories. I hope you will still stick around for some more painful reading.

#thirteenth doctor x reader #13th doctor x reader #thirteenth doctor imagine #doctor who x reader #doctor who fanfiction #doctor who imagine #dark!doctor #shiefenwrites

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ladyherenya · 4 years

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Books read in October

I read a paperback book for the first time in over three months months and was sharply aware that I couldn’t change anything about the way the text was displayed to make it more comfortable to read. I wondered, sadly, if I no longer like reading physical books.

Then I became engrossed in the story, and there were long stretches of time when I didn’t think about how I was reading a brick of printed paper. I turned pages as automatically and effortlessly as breathing. I think I was just out of practice.

This month’s Unintentional Colour Scheme: pink, purple and light blue.

Favourite covers: The Time-Traveling Popcorn Ball and The Other Side of the Sky.

Also read: “Good Neighbors” by Stephanie Burgis and Tiny House, Big Love by Olivia Dade. (And half a romance novel which I disliked and have no interest in remembering or reviewing.)

Reread: The last section of The Beckoning Hills by Ruth Elwin Harris. The middle section of Hunting by Andrea K. Höst.

Still reading: Between Silk and Cyanide by Leo Marks, and Angel Mage by Garth Nix.

Next up: The Switch by Beth O’Leary, and Hamster Princess: Little Red Rodent Hood by Ursula Vernon.

The Time-Traveling Popcorn Ball by Aster Glenn Gray: A magical story of time-travel and of friendship between eleven year old Piper, who has just moved into a new house, and Rosie, who lived in the same house fifty years earlier. It’s totally charming, and exactly the sort of story I adored growing up. Sometimes that makes me wish I could send a book back in time to my younger self, but I appreciated this book’s references to things that my younger self didn’t know about. I also appreciated how, even though I’ve read similar stories, I couldn’t predict how this one would end. That was very satisfying.

The Game of Kings by Dorothy Dunnett: In 1547, Francis Crawford, the Master of Lymond, wanted by the Scottish government for treason, is back in Edinburgh. The audiobook was the perfect way to experience this! The voices the narrator uses highlights clues in the text, about who’s speaking or the subtext and emotional tones of a conversation, which helped me to follow the story even when I felt confused about exactly what was going on. I enjoyed the Scottish accents, the clever wit, the ambiguity about Lymond’s plans and motives, and the way many characters are very intelligent, perceptive people. I was interested in the historical political intrigue. I loved the twists and revelations, which are brilliant -- incredibly clever and satisfying.

“Good Neighbors” by Stephanie Burgis: The first “fantasy rom-com” about a grumpy inventor who, along with her father, moves into a cottage nextdoor to a notorious necromancer in his big black castle. I wasn’t expecting to read about Mia stitching up undead minions, but appreciate that Burgis doesn’t take this opportunity to give glory details. This short story was fun and satisfying, and I am looking forward to when the rest of this series becomes (easily) available.

Lake of Sorrows by Erin Hart: After Haunted Ground, Dr Nora Gavin heads to the midlands west of Dublin to oversee the evacuation of another body discovered in a peat bog. The setting is fascinating and I like the atmosphere -- this has a strong sense of both place and mystery. However the multiple murders meant there’s more unpleasantness than I’d prefer. But it’s probably not enough to deter me from reading the next book.

The Dictionary of Lost Words by Pip Williams: Engrossing -- a poignant story of childhood during the late 19th century and womanhood in the early 20th century, and an absolutely fascinating insight into the decades-long process behind the first Oxford English Dictionary. Esme’s father is one of the lexicographers collecting and defining words for the Dictionary. Esme grows up with a fascination for words and begins to collect words that the Dictionary leaves out. I liked that Esme has people in her life who love and support her, but the ending is intensely sad. I’m not sure why that disappointed me. As an ending, it fits this story.

Taking Down Evelyn Tait by Poppy Nwosu: Australian YA. Lottie is furious that no one else seems to realise what Evelyn Tait, her nemesis (and stepsister) is like. Her best friend Grace is in love with Evelyn. Her teachers and her father tell Lottie she should emulate Evelyn. So Lottie decides that she’s going to do just that -- she’s going to be better than Miss Perfect. I thought this was a very realistic portrayal of a teenager’s relationships -- with family, with friends, with school and with herself. It’s amusing and, ultimately, believably positive. It captures Lottie’s perspective and her experiences in-the-moment so effectively and intensely.

Wired Love: a romance of dots and dashes by Ella Cheever Thayer (1888): Nattie, a telegraph operator who chats whenever she can “over the wire” with C., another telegraph operator miles down the line. I love stories where characters fall in love through exchanged messages. And the experiences of telegraph operators is absolutely fascinating -- simultaneously a product of the past and yet incredibly relatable from a contemporary perspective, because the internet and mobile phones mean we communicate so much through text. After Nattie and Clem meet, the focus shifts away from the telegraph office to antics at their boardinghouse, but the story continues to be fun and delightful.

Once Upon a Con series by Ashley Poston:

Geekerella: When Elle discovers her late parents’ cosplay costumes in a box in the attic, she hatches a plan to enter a cosplay competition and use the prize to escape her step-family. This contemporary Cinderella retelling about two teenage fans of a SF series Starfield is a romance-through-messages story. Elle uses her father’s old phone, so sometimes she gets messages from people about ExcelsiCon, the convention her father founded. One message sparks a conversation -- but neither she nor Darien realise just who they’re texting. As expected, this is fun and fandom-y, and it makes the coincidences and Cinderella moments feel believable.

The Princess and the Fangirl: At ExcelsiCon, Starfield actress Jessica Stone swaps places with a fan, Imogen. Jess needs to find a mislaid script before she’s accused of leaking it, and Imogen hopes for an opportunity to promote the #Save Amara initiative. I enjoyed how they both experience a different side of fandom. Imogen discovers the pressures of being a star, when con appearances are your job, and, away from the spotlight, Jess discovers how cons allow people to come together and celebrate things they love. My only disappointment was the way they both deceive Imogen’s fandom friend, Harper. I wish that had been handled differently.

The Little Bookshop at Herring Cove by Kellie Hailes: Unlike other books I’ve borrowed because they had “bookshop” in the title, this didn’t focus very much on books, nor did it describe its bookshop vividly. Sophie could have easily owned a different sort of shop without changing the plot, the setting or the atmosphere. This is a light-hearted romance about nice people in a generic seaside town -- not what I was looking for. I wanted more about books and a stronger sense of place.

Lilac Girls by Martha Hall Kelly (narrated by Cassandra Campbell, Kathleen Gati and Kathrin Kana): This begins with three different women at the start of WWII -- a teenager in Poland, a newly-graduated doctor in Germany and a wealthy consulate worker in New York -- and becomes about the Ravensbruck Rabbits, Polish political prisoners subjected to medical experimentation. Not what I expected or wanted to be reading (which is not its fault. I switched to the ebook, because I'm irrationally squeamish about some medical things and cope better when reading to myself). This story is compelling and does a good job of showing how the pain and trauma didn’t just end with the war. And it’s incredibly important to keep telling stories about distressing parts of history.

The Other Side of the Sky by Amie Kaufman and Meagan Spooner: More or less the sort of story I expected from these two. Nimh is the Divine One in a world of magic and prophecy. North is a prince in a floating city of science and engineering. Nimh believes the gods fled into the sky thousands of years ago, and North believes no one still lives down on the surface… until he crashes his glider. I enjoyed this but don’t feel any emotional investment -- yet. I will read the sequel.

Spoiler Alert by Olivia Dade: April and Marcus keep fandom separate from their professional lives -- April to avoid negative comments, Marcus (an actor) to avoid violating his contract. So when Marcus sees a cosplay photo of April online, he doesn’t recognise his friend, he just sees a gorgeous woman getting nasty comments and invites her to dinner. I was hooked. As a romance, this didn’t always focus on the things I most wanted it to, but I understood why it made those narrative choices and liked how the characters resolved their mistakes. And I really liked it as a story about fanfiction and the way we tell stories in response to other stories.

Big Love, Tiny House by Olivia Dade: Lucy goes on a Tiny House Hunting show and drags along her best friend Sebastian. I’ve watched countless tiny house videos on Youtube, so it was fun to see tiny houses depicted in fiction -- although I was disappointed that all the houses are so disastrously bad. Beyond that, I have no strong feelings one way or another about this romance novella.

Memento: an Illuminae Files novella by Amie Kaufman and Jay Kristoff (narrated by a full cast): A bonus prequel, set aboard the Alexander prior to the events of Illuminae. The audiobook is so well done! Even though this is a short story/novella, I cared about the new characters it introduces -- I really like the epistolary format and how it requires the reader to fill in some of the gaps for themselves. (I think that’s part of why I love The Illuminae Files but so far have no strong feelings about Kaufman and Kristoff’s latest series.) And it’s always interesting to see more of AIDAN.

#Herenya reviews books #Aster Glenn Gray #Dorothy Dunnett #Erin Hart #Pip Williams #Poppy Nwosu #Ella Cheever Thayer #Ashley Poston #Martha Hall Kelly #Amie Kaufman #Meagan Spooner #Jay Kristoff #Olivia Dade #Stephanie Burgis

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