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dungeons-and-dragons-and-whump · 2 years

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Worst Day Off Ever

Ok. It’s been. A long time since I’ve posted my writing here, but I’m proud enough of this that I don’t think it’ll give me an aneurysm in 3-5 months. Also posted on fanfiction.net, Wattpad, & ao3.

Words: 5191

Fandom: White Collar

Summary: “Only you,” Peter remarked, following his gaze, “could get yourself kidnapped and stabbed while not even on the clock.”

Neal is offered the rest of his workday off and leaps at the chance, only to end up in the wrong place at the wrong time. Neal whump. Not specifically written for Caffrey-Burke day, since I started writing it before I found out about it, but the shoe fits, so, @operationmorewhitecollar

Disclaimer: I haven’t finished watching this show, but I’ve read a LOT of fanworks, so characters may be slightly OOC, please don’t crucify me. I also don’t know how law enforcement or medical care works. There’s a reason I write fantasy.

This also takes place after an AU ending to season 3 where Neal does end up getting his sentence ended, along with his anklet. Why? That’s just how this idea popped into my head, and who am I to deny the whims of my subconscious?

Warnings: contains drugging, kidnapping, and moderately graphic violence (including hand whump)

Neal Caffrey tucked his thumbs into his pockets as he halted at a crosswalk, tilting his face up towards the sun and closing his eyes as he waited for the signal to change.

What a wonderful day to get off early from work.

It was a hot summer day, unusually so. Temps had hit the 90s by 11 AM, at which point Neal (or, as far as his mark knew, ‘Nick Halden’) had been busy scrounging around in an air-conditioned office building for suspicious files. Once his infiltration had ended, he had rendezvoused with Peter and Jones in their beloved FBI van - which, in this heat, had become a veritable oven.

They were supposed to sit there for several hours, monitoring calls coming in and out of the building, but Peter had had mercy on him after a mere 20 minutes at the sight of Neal plucking at his suit and loosening his tie in an attempt to combat the heat. Neal’s partner had assured him that he and Jones (who were both already in t-shirts) had the monitoring under control, and encouraged Neal to head home and cool off. Neal, though he pitied them for having to stay and continue their task, leapt at the chance and was off in minutes. He certainly didn’t relish the thought of boiling in the sweat-moistened backseat air of the van.

It was still hot outside, but at least a soft breeze offered some relief from the baking heat. The sidewalks were quiet. Most New York residents obviously had the presence of mind to stay inside. Neal was heading straight home, where he planned to take a shower, crack open a bottle of wine, and finish that painting he had started a few days ago. Nick Halden wouldn’t need to appear again until the meeting with Fallon he had arranged in two days time.

The signal changed, and Neal stepped forward, striding across the crosswalk and continuing towards his apartment. He glanced down at his watch, then did a double take at the sight of one of the Bureau’s fake Rolexes staring back at him. He must have forgotten to return it. Neal double checked that the one-way radio was off before continuing down the sidewalk. He would return it when he came into work tomorrow.

As Neal strutted down the sidewalk, another man emerged from the space between two buildings and fell into step beside him.

“Hot out, isn’t it?” The man spoke up cheerfully. Neal side-eyed him. New Yorkers weren’t exactly known for their penchant of striking up conversations with strangers. The man was about his height, with a slightly more muscular build, and he was carrying a tote bag which was bulging with unidentifiable shapes.

“Indeed it is.” Neal responded, infusing a similar cheer into his voice. It wasn’t hard, he was happy to be heading home.

“A real scorcher. Here.” The man reached into the bag, and Neal tracked his hand warily until it emerged with a disposable water bottle. He offered it to Neal, who shot him a winning smile as he took it.

“Roaming the streets in search of hapless citizens in need of water? That’s very kind of you.” Neal turned the bottle in his hand, ensuring the seal was intact, before he twisted the cap off and took a swig. It was probably paranoia - who would be handing out drugged drinks to strangers? Even though the circumstances were odd, he was happy to receive it. Maintaining his good looks required hydration, after all.

“Well, we all do our part.” The man shrugged, patting his bag and smiling. “Headed home?”

“To the park.” Neal lied. Knee-jerk reaction.

The man smirked, gesturing to Neal’s suit. “In that getup?”

“Why not? All the cute fitness girls will be there.” Neal grinned, taking another sip of his water. This time, he paused, looking down at the label. Generic warehouse-store brand. Did he just have too expensive tastes? Why did it taste off to him?

“Suppose you’re right.” The man continued strolling along beside him. “What’s your name? I’m Dale, Dale Emery.”

“Nick.” Again, he lied. Something in the pit of his stomach was telling him that something was off. “Nick Halden. It’s a pleasure.”

“Pleasure’s all mine.” Dale said with a cheerful smile. He kept walking along beside him. Neal’s apprehension continued to grow as they made their way down the sidewalk. Why was he still here? Was he one of Fallon’s henchmen? Trying to see if he would slip up outside of ‘work hours’? But, surely they wouldn’t approach him so overtly.

Neal’s vision blurred.

He halted in his tracks, overcorrecting and taking a hasty step back to balance himself. The sidewalk before him split in two, and it took all of his effort to keep from tilting over. What the h### was that?!

“Hey, hey, Nick, buddy, you okay?” Dale stepped in front of him, reaching out to steady him by grasping both his arms. The movement caused Neal’s grip to loosen involuntarily, and the bottle slipped from his hand, hitting the sidewalk and sending water splashing over his shoes. He frowned down at them.

“Got the- not feelin’ too good.” He managed, his words beginning to slur together. He’d drugged him. The water was spiked.

“Dizzy? Unbalanced?” Dale was saying. “Sounds like heat exhaustion- don’t worry, I’ve got my car parked nearby. I’ll get you cooled down.” Grip tightening on his arms, Dale began to lead him down the sidewalk, and Neal was too stunned to protest.

“Wait, wait, no, I gotta-” Peter, he had to call Peter. Maybe this was only heat exhaustion- he was hot - but he needed Peter here to make sure. There was no way he was going with this man blindly.

Neal jerked his hand away, fumbling in his pocket for his phone.

“Here, let me help you.” Dale offered, and Neal tried to pull his phone away, holding it tight against his chest. “I’ll call your emergency contacts for you, how about that?” Dale held out his hand, an easy smile on his face. Neal contemplated how real it looked.

The next thing he knew, his phone was in Dale’s hand. Neal cursed quietly, though it came out slurred. He hadn’t drank that much - how potent was that stuff?? Now he was really feeling dizzy, wavering where he stood on the sidewalk while this stranger looked through his phone.

“Just one contact, eh?” Dale grinned, lifting his phone a bit. “Alright, c’mon, easy now.” And he was being led down the sidewalk again. Neal wished he could snatch his phone back, but his reflexes were next to nothing by now. The alarm bells in his head, though muffled by whatever drug he had inadvertently ingested, were ringing at full force. There was no way this man was really going to call Peter, he didn’t know what his plans were but they couldn’t be any good. Neal had gotten heatstroke before, and the symptoms felt nothing like this - a sudden onset of dizziness, blurred vision, and nausea that was even now lurking in the pit of his stomach. This was poison.

For the first time in his life, Neal wished he was wearing the anklet. At least that miserable piece of hardware would have alerted Peter if he went outside his radius, and maybe the senior agent would have chanced to check his position and seen that he was in an odd place, come to check him out, maybe saved him from- from- whatever this man planned for him. As it stood, the next time Peter was likely to see him was dead in a ditch somewhere, just a corpse in a suit and a fancy wa-

Oh, right. There was a way that the FBI could track him.

“Wait!” He exclaimed, jerking his arms out of Dale’s grip. The man turned around, one brow raised, as Neal bent over his watch and muttered, “what time is it.” It was a weak cover, but Dale didn’t stop him from activating the watch’s hidden radio, transmitting any further conversation straight to Peter and Jones in their FBI van.

“It’s just after two.” Dale was saying as he straightened up. “Now, come on, we need to get you cooled down.” He was still smiling, but Neal could swear that the expression got more predatory the longer it was on his face.

Neal couldn’t argue, his words becoming more slurred every time he tried to speak. Nor could he resist, every ounce of energy going into putting one foot in front of the other, and his mind was too sluggish to think of another way out. He’d just have to rely on Peter and Jones to think of one for him.

***

“Hey, Peter.” Jones’s voice made him jump, and Peter Burke looked up from the sheet of paper he had been trying not to sweat all over. “We sent Caffrey home, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, why?” Peter leaned over, trying to see what had caught his fellow agent’s attention.

“He just reactivated his radio.” Jones pointed to the new audio source on his screen. “And his GPS is on. He’s heading the wrong way, and there’s someone else with him.”

“What?” Peter frowned deeply. “Patch me in.”

“Hang on,” Jones tapped on his computer as Peter grabbed his headphones, lifting them onto his ears, and almost immediately he heard Neal’s voice.

“Wai’- wait, let me get m’ seatbelt-“

“Fine, Nick, just make it quick.”

“Where’re we goin’-?”

“Back to my place.”

“I was tryin’ to- had plans-”

“Well, now you’ve got different ones.”

Peter and Jones shared identical looks of horror.

“Doesn’t sound like a friend.” Jones said lowly.

“No, and something’s very wrong with Neal.” Peter grit out, leaning over to Jones’s screen to look at the GPS map. The little dot that represented his wayward CI was moving in the opposite direction of Neal’s apartment. “Get up to the front, Jones, go. I’ll call for backup to meet us there.”

“Yes sir.” Jones was up in an instant, hurrying to the front of the truck and fumbling the key into the starter. As Peter reached for his phone, intending to call Diana to bring a team with them, Neal’s voice crackled once more through his headphones.

“‘S a nice ride.” He commented. “Navy blue- what is it, 2004? Ford Focus?”

“2005.”

“Riiiight. It’s nice.”

Whatever was going on with Neal - likely drugged, if he was concussed he wouldn’t be so friendly - he still had the mental capacity to try and slip them clues to help them save him, Peter thought with grim pride.

Jones pulled out into traffic as Peter’s mind whirled. Who was this man?? He had called Neal ‘Nick’, was he someone from their active case? What was he doing with Neal, how had he gotten him into such a state??

“Which way?” Jones shouted from the front, and Peter checked the map.

“West, head west!” He shouted back, remembering his previous task and once more reaching for his phone. A quick call to Diana later, a task force was on its way to Caffrey’s location, not far behind Jones and Peter in the van.

Through his headphones, Peter heard the car stop.

“We here?” Came Neal’s voice. “I don’t think it’s heat ‘xaustion- feelin’ pretty cool but not any less dizzy-”

“Come on, out you get.”

“Hey- oh, I’ve been here before. It’s th’ little neighborhood on Hartson street, one with th’ rock bridge. House is pretty, like th’ blue-”

“Quit your reminiscing and let’s get inside.” The other man snapped, and Peter heard a small grunt from Neal. The agent became suddenly aware of how tightly he was gritting his teeth.

“They’ve arrived.” He called hoarsely up to Jones in the driver’s seat. “Hartson street.” Jones nodded tersely, and Peter communicated the address to Diana’s team as well. Of course, the GPS would lead them there anyway, but it was good to have a concrete target in mind. Neal’s dot had stopped moving.

“Nice place- can I have some water?”

“Oh, you won’t be needing it.”

“Wht’s that mean- why’re we goin’ down in the basement-”

“It’s real cool down here.”

“I’m ac’shully kinda cold now-“ Neal’s voice cut off with a grunt, and Peter heard a thud. “…alright. Guess we’re done pre’tendin’ we’re buds.”

“Yeah, we’re done.”

“Jones, how close are we?” Peter snapped.

“With traffic, I can’t say, but we’re under ten minutes away.” Jones called back. Peter forced himself to stay focused. It would have to be fast enough.

“So who’re- who are you with?” Neal was asking. “Fallon? Could’ve called, has my number-“

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” Neal’s captor interrupted. “You make a lot of enemies, Nick?”

“…w-well then, Keller? Friend of Adler’s?” Neal’s voice trailed off. “You’re… you really…?”

“I have no idea who you are.” His captor’s voice was indifferent. “I just like to watch pretty boys squirm.” A moment of stunned silence, then Neal forced out a strained laugh.

“Well that’s awfully forward’ve you, Dale, I don’ swing that way but mayb’ buy me dinner an’-“

“Man, one would think you’re used to being locked up in basements.” ‘Dale’ interrupted, and Peter heard echoing footsteps. “Up, come on.” Neal grunted, and Peter heard an all-too-familiar click.

“Handcuffs. Classic.” Neal commented. Peter knew his CI could get out of cuffs as easily as he could breathe, but today? While drugged? He couldn’t be so sure.

“Hey, quick, easy, and convenient.” A shuffle. “There now, don’t you make a perfect picture.” Peter heard the click of a camera’s shutter, and he ground his teeth. Neal was debilitated, bound, and locked in a stranger’s basement with, as far as his captor knew, nobody looking for him. Peter was a white collar agent, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know his way around violent offenders - if this man wanted to kill Neal quickly, he would’ve already done so.

No, he’d taken him home and locked him up where he assumed no one would find him. It was a d### good thing that Peter would.

***

Neal’s head was swimming.

With his wrists fastened firmly behind his head as they were, he couldn’t even prop himself up to get a good look at his kidnapper as the man set his camera aside, approaching him. It was dark, but even in the dimness Neal could see the sadism on his face. Neal swallowed. Unless Peter showed up in the next 12 seconds, he wasn’t getting out of here unscathed.

He felt horrible. Whatever poison he’d been tricked into drinking had caused him to break into a cold sweat, and the cold concrete floor he’d been tossed down on did nothing to help his uncontrollable shivering. He’d succeeded so far in not throwing up - he didn’t relish choking on his own bile, incapable as he was of getting up. Somehow, he’d managed to keep his stupid carefree smile on his face thus far, but it was probably about time to put that away before it provoked his captor into further violence.

“So.” Dale said conversationally, walking past him and out of sight. “Have a lot of enemies, hmm?” Neal shifted, hoping to every and any deity out there that Peter was hearing all this.

“Sure do.” He confirmed. “Alleg’dly committed a lot’ve crimes. Nothin’ too bad, jes’ a few thieveries an’ forgeries.”

“So you’ve been a bad bad man.” Dale came back into view, and Neal’s fingers began unconsciously working at the cuffs. Some models could be popped without use of his picks… “It almost,” Dale laughed, fidgeting with the knife now held between two fingers. “It almost makes it less fun. But I’m sure,” He knelt down next to Neal, hungry gaze traveling up and down his body. “I can make it work.”

The handcuff burst free, and Neal jerked, swinging his arm around and slamming the remaining cuff into his captor’s face.

Dale shouted, cringing back, and Neal scrambled away. He tried to get to his feet, but the world spun around him and he crashed to the ground again. A second try only resulted in the same failure, and a third attempt barely got him to the stair rail. He gripped the banister like his life depended on it, trying to get his foot on the first step.

A strong arm wrapped around his neck, jerking him back, and Neal was helpless to free himself. He could barely walk. “Handcuffs not doing it for you, huh?” Dale hissed into his ear, turning around and shoving him to the ground again at the foot of the beam. Neal grunted as he hit the concrete again, disappointed with his failure, but at least he was stalling. Dale grabbed his arm, his grip strong, and Neal’s eyes flickered open as his hand was fitted over a plank that lay on the floor nearby.

The knife flashed over Dale’s head, and Neal’s eyes widened in realization moments before it jammed through his hand and into the plank.

Weirdly, the thing he was most aware of as he screamed was that he hoped he hadn’t blown out the receiver on his hidden radio, which was now pinned firmly to a board with the killer’s knife. Second was the pain, of course, which radiated hot and merciless throughout his entire body. He jerked, trying to drag his hand away, but Dale had planted a foot on the board and trying to move his hand only caused more agony. Neal’s chest heaved as he gasped for breath, vision darkening, and he found himself mouthing Peter’s name.

Peter, where are you?!

“Well, now, it’s a good thing I carry several of these.” Dale remarked, lifting another knife. Neal reacted instantly, trying to hide his other hand, and his captor laughed. “No worries, Nick, I’ll leave your other hand be.” He paused. “For now. I like to keep a little piece of my victims with me- usually a finger. Do you have any preference on which?” The edge of the knife ghosted over his pinned hand, and Neal’s fingers seized involuntarily.

The ex-con pinned his eyes shut, sucking in air and trying to calm himself. Panicking wouldn’t help him, he’d been through s### like this before, all he had to do was wait him out and Peter would come and save him-

A weight pressed down on his chest, and Neal’s eyes flew open to find his kidnapper kneeling over him, straddling his waist.

“Yeah, I said victims.” Dale hissed softly, reaching down to trace Neal’s chin with the point of the knife. No matter of struggling and cringing away would let him escape his reach. “You’re far from the first, Nick, and you won’t be the last. The difference between you and the first is, I’ve definitely learned how to make the whole process more… enjoyable for myself.” A knee pressed down on his chest, and Neal wheezed harshly, the air forced from his lungs.

“Pet’r-“ He gasped out.

“Peter?” Dale echoed. “No one’s comin’ for you, Nick.” The voice was mocking, and Neal gritted his teeth. His heart was hammering in his chest, as if trying to make up for the missing blood that was now pooling on the floor beneath his hand, and his thoughts were only getting more and more muddled.

Peter, you’d better be on your way.

***

Peter had nearly broken his headphones when Neal screamed.

Jones had almost swerved off the road, too, demanding to know what the sound had been, but Peter had just snapped at him to keep driving. They were only a couple minutes out, and Peter was going in the moment they arrived whether their backup had appeared or not.

He could hear Neal’s every pained breath, every threat hissed at him by the lowlife who held him prisoner. Gone was Neal’s carefree banter, he hadn’t said a word other than Peter since his scream. Scared was not an attribute Peter often associated with his playful CI, but he could hear it clearly in every sound that Neal made, breath sounding increasingly strained as his captor taunted him.

“You know, if I really put my mind to it I could make a killing off your insides.” Peter heard a quiet snap, and Neal whimpered. “$500,000 for your heart, $120,000 for your kidneys… each.” A small laugh. “I don’t have the facilities for that… maybe someday.”

The van jerked to a halt.

“Peter, which building?” Jones shouted back, and Peter tore his eyes from the console in front of him to consult Neal’s map.

“First one to the right of the corner!” He shouted back, voice hoarse. “Is Diana-?”

“She’s not here yet.” Jones shut off the van, grabbing his handgun as he slid out of the van. Peter hesitated, gripping his headphones for a moment longer, before abandoning them and jumping out the back of the van to join him.

“Come on.” Peter urged him, dashing across the street to the named house. The siding was blue. He headed straight for the door, trying the knob. “Of course he locked it.” The senior agent backed up, tucking his gun away, and rushed forward to slam his shoulder into the door. All he gained was a spike of pain through his arm.

“Peter!!” Jones hurried forward, scanning the front of the house for any other entrance. “The windows, could we-” Peter didn’t wait for him to finish, drawing his gun as he dashed for one of the ground-floor windows. Rearing back his weapon, Peter slammed it into the glass, shattering it, and he lifted a foot to shove away some of the exposed shards before climbing through with Jones at his heels.

“Basement.” He gasped out, batting the curtains aside. “They’re in the basement.” Without another word, they split up, searching the first level of the small house for the basement door.

Peter threw open a door and was met with a flight of stairs.

“Jones!” He bellowed, but didn’t wait for him to respond before storming down into the dark basement. “FBI, get on the ground!!”

The basement was dim, and it took him a moment to see what he was actually pointing his gun at. The only light came from the upstairs behind him, and a small window mostly choked out by weeds. It wasn’t until his eyes adjusted that he saw Neal’s kidnapper, looking up at him in shock from where he knelt on top of Neal’s prone form.

“Get off of him.” Peter snapped, gaze not leaving the scoundrel as he descended the rest of the staircase. The man didn’t move. “Now!!” The agent had almost made up his mind to shoot when his target finally obeyed, backing off from Neal. “Drop it.” Peter gestured with his gun, and the man let the knife in his hand clatter to the ground. “On your knees, hands behind your head.” Jones was hurrying down the stairs behind him, and Peter let him deal with cuffing the man as he turned his attention to Neal.

Neal was pale, breaths shallow, and it didn’t take Peter more than a moment to find out why - a knife through his palm pinned Neal’s hand to a piece of wood. It was clear now what had caused the scream. Peter was at his side in an instant, reaching down to pat at his face. “Neal!!” The action had his CI jerking, a small cry escaping him as he jarred his trapped hand. Peter cursed.

“D#####, Neal, hold still.” He fumbled his phone from his pocket, leaving his right hand resting on Neal’s shoulder as he clumsily dialed medical services with his left. As he waited for them to pick up, his gaze swept up and down Neal’s body, looking for any further injury. His button-down shirt had been cut open, but he seemed unhurt other than a small scratch on his exposed chest.

Peter got the call over with as quickly as possible, setting his phone aside and casting a glance over at their culprit. Jones had cuffed his hands behind his back, and now pinned him to the floor with a boot on his back as he listed off his rights. Remarkable restraint, Peter could tell that Jones wanted to rearrange the man’s face as much as he did.

“Peter.” Neal croaked, drawing his attention back down.

“Hey, Neal.” Peter’s thumb rubbed at his shoulder anxiously. “Paramedics are on their way.”

“M’ hand-”

“I know, bud, I see it.” Peter stole another glance at the knife, and he was quick to look away. At least, if the damage was too great, at least it was his left hand. Neal was blinking up at him now, blue eyes glassy with pain. “Neal, talk to me. What happened?”

“Was walkin’ home.” Neal slurred, vision unfocused. “He… off’red me a bottle’ve water… drugged. Followed me ‘till it kicked in.” Peter pressed his lips in a thin line. He should think that Neal of all people would know not to accept a drink from a stranger on the street. But there would be plenty of time for scolding him later.

“Alright,” he patted his shoulder, then started to remove his hand, but Neal’s good hand shot up to grasp his fingers tightly. He said nothing, only looked up at him imploringly, and Peter sighed and adjusted his grip.

“Got Dale?” Neal rasped.

“We got him.” Peter confirmed. “I’m just glad he wasn’t interested in your watch.” Heavy footfalls sounded above them, and Neal stiffened until Diana appeared on the stairs.

“Caffrey!! Oh God.”

“Diana, get him out of here.” Peter jerked his head in the direction of Neal’s captor. “EMS is on the way.”

“Right.” Diana rushed to assist Jones, hauling their perp off the ground. The man was tight-lipped, not saying a word as he was dragged up the stairs. Neal’s unfocused vision followed them until they disappeared, clinging tightly to Peter’s hand.

“…can y’ get m’ hand out-“

“No, Neal, not until the paramedics get here.” Peter told him, voice stern. Neal groaned, tilting his head back and scrunching up his face.

“‘s cold.”

“I know.” Peter rubbed his thumb in the center of Neal’s palm, wishing he hadn’t left his jacket in the van. “Just- hold out for me, we’ll have you out of here before you know it.”

***

“Did I say anything strange while I was under?” Neal asked, reclining back against his sterile hospital pillow.

“If you’re asking if you admitted to any crimes, the answer is no.” Peter responded, subduing a smirk. “But I didn’t ask.”

“Well, I appreciate that.” Neal’s eyes were bright again, charming grin shining once more from his face. If not for the IV strapped to his arm and his hand wrapped firmly in bandages, Peter could almost imagine that he hadn’t just been kidnapped and nearly murdered.

Peter had followed the ambulance back to the hospital, and roamed the various waiting areas anxiously until he was called in to see his partner. Neal was sleeping when he arrived, and a surgical assistant had told Peter that the damage in his hand was, fortunately, reversible. The wound, though alarming, had missed any major tendons, and they expected him to make a full recovery.

They’d tested his blood to try to find out what exactly Emery had put into his system, but hadn’t come up with a clear answer yet. The assistant told Peter that they suspected it was a combination of several fairly common sedatives. Until they found out what it was, they weren’t willing to put Neal on any pain medication, for risk of triggering an adverse reaction.

Neal had been rather unimpressed with this when he’d woken up, but got over it quickly enough. Peter discovered early on that his memories of being kidnapped were fairly hazy, hence the question about confessing to any serious crimes.

“Find anything out about the b######?” Was Neal’s next question.

“We did.” Peter shifted, glancing at a folder on the nearby table that Jones had dropped off not long before. “The neighborhood we found you in has been seeing a rash of murders over the past few months, I just got the file from violent crimes. The bodies, when found, were all in various stages of…” Peter trailed off momentarily. “…violence.”

“And now you have someone to pin them on.” Neal nodded.

“Even if we can’t pin him for those, attempted murder, and… whatever he was trying to do to you should put him away for a long time.” Peter said grimly. Neal nodded, eyes straying down to his bandaged hand.

“Right.”

“Only you,” Peter remarked, following his gaze. “could get yourself kidnapped and stabbed while not even on the clock.”

“It’s one of my many talents.” Neal shot him a winning smile. “Did they find out how he drugged me?” Peter gave him a look.

“You accepted a drink from him, I think it’s pretty clear.”

“Yeah, but the bottle was sealed.” Neal protested. “Unless he re-sealed it somehow, how did he spike the water?” Peter frowned.

“Maybe he injected it through the plastic.”

“Maybe.” Neal set his jaw, looking annoyed. “Well, remind me not to do that again.”

“I’ll try to.”

“It just seems like such a complicated way to kidnap someone.” Caffrey complained.

“And how would you kidnap someone?” Peter leaned back, lifting a stern brow. “Give them a wink and tell them to meet you at your place at 5?”

“Hey, it works.” Neal shrugged, only to hastily backpedal when Peter’s stare intensified. “I mean, it’s worked for other things. I’ve never kidnapped anyone.”

“Not even allegedly?”

“Not even allegedly.” Neal assured him.

The pair lapsed into silence, and Peter paged through the case file. It now included a profile on Dale Emery, featuring his new mugshot. 28 years old, single, electrical worker and active in his community. One would never think that this man was a killer.

“Neal.” He broke the silence. “They’re going to want you to give a statement.” He lifted his head, closing the file. “How much do you remember?” Neal looked down at the sheets covering him, gave a small shrug.

“I remember being stabbed.”

“Anything else?”

“Walking down the street, accepting the water bottle from him.” Neal mimed taking a drink. “Started feeling strange, tried to call you, but Dale took my phone and herded me into his car. Don’t remember much after that, being pushed down in the basement and having my hand stabbed.” Peter frowned, chest constricting a bit at the thought of Neal’s form of communication being taken away from him. If he hadn’t forgotten to return his watch…

“That should be plenty.” He said at last. “Especially since we have the recorded audio from your watch.” Neal’s eyes widened a bit.

“Right, of course. You probably know more than I do.” He grinned again, catching Peter’s eye. “The thing with the watch was pretty clever though, right?” Peter smiled, giving him a pat on his good arm.

“Very clever.” He agreed. “Next time, don’t get kidnapped.”

“Yes sir.”

#White collar #peter burke #neal caffrey #whump #whumpblr #my writing #white collar whump #Neal whump #Idk what tags people usually use I’m just gonna post this before I can have second thoughts

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usmsgutterson · 3 years

Text

Certainly- Kaz Brekker

The reader is a bit of an astrology and astronomy alike geek for this, which I hope y’all don’t mind! Also, in this case, phones exist so lets pretend that phones exist in Ketterdam, making it a bit of a modern au, I guess!

Also, this’ll probably be a bit ooc for Kaz

Fic type- angsty fluff

Warnings- blood, mentions of death, and the reader is sick (nothing specific, I just kind of took random symptoms and made up a word for the sickness)

You were determined to see the stars before you went, and as you grew sicker, none of the crows knew when that would be, so, after a little convincing, the crows had gotten Colm to let you spend a couple of months at his farm in Novyi Zem, where the stars were the clearest at night, not burdened by light pollution or the screams of lively cities.

It was the seven of you crammed into a basement, sharing beds, but none of them cared, and you were just glad to be with the people you called family. You were happy that they were with you, that Kaz was willing to wheel you everywhere when you got too weak to stand, that Jesper still made jokes, even despite watching you deteriorate. You were grateful for Inejs smile, Wylans music, Ninas impeccable tastes and Matthias and his big arms that could lift you and put you down without issue.

The six of them had started taking shifts taking you outside. Nina took you outside Sunday nights, Matthias Mondays, Wylan Tuesdays, Jesper Thursdays, Inej Fridays and Kaz Saturdays. Wednesdays you rested up; ate when it was time to eat, used the bathroom when you needed, took a shower if it were the appropriate time, but other than that, you slept.

It was Kaz’s day to wheel you out, and you’d had a particularly rough day that day. Inej went with him, promising not to intrude on the time that you would spend together. She’d do backflips and run across the roof of the farm if you asked her to, but she’d not interrupt otherwise.

“I love the stars,” you whispered, leaning back in your wheelchair and tightening the hold of the blanket over your lap. “Thank you both. For doing this.”

“Don’t you worry, love,” Kaz murmured. “Just keep your eyes on the stars, okay?”

“We’re happy to do this,” Inej added. “All of us are. Really.” It was like both of them could sense it as well as you could. You had a feeling that the night would end terribly, just like the morning had begun.

You’d woken up only to need to rush to the toilet immediately, blood coming up your throat like bile, staining your skin and leaving your bottom lip red as a cherry.

Kaz had been at your side in a minute, Nina and Wylan right behind him. Wylan kept your hair away from the sides of your face, Nina slowed your heartrate and Kaz wet a cloth with cold water to get your body temp down.

Kaz had forced himself to stay in the moment, to not let his thoughts stray to the urge to sleep in the same bed as you to make sure that nothing happened while you slept--to be there in case something did--but to stay on the sun as it set and the faraway sound of Wylan playing his flute with the window open so that you’d be able to hear it.

Once you’d gotten settled under a tree, Inej ran off, making her way inside and up to the barns roof, where she sat, keeping a watch from a distance as Kaz let you rest your head against his shoulder, gloved hand interlaced with yours.

“I love you, Brekker,” you murmured. “Please don’t forget that. Ever.”

“I won’t,” he whispered. “You’re gonna stay around and get better until we can spar again, and you can beat my ass even though I’ve my cane as a weapon.”

“You know full well I can’t promise that,” you wished that you could. You desperately wished. “I’m going to die young, Kaz. I’m not gonna get to eighteen, much less eighty.” Kaz hated you for that.

He hated you because everything that you said somehow managed to be right. It was like you had a sixth sense for that kind of thing, and while, on missions, it proved useful, in that scenario, it just proved annoying.

“You’re gonna make it to eighteen if it kills me,” he informed you. “I’ll take you around the globe if I need to, just to make sure you end up okay. I will not live a life without you in it, Y/N.”

“You’re sweet,” you murmured. “Incredibly sweet.”

“Only to you, L/N.” That was the last bit of conversation for a long while as the sun set and the stars came out.

“Did you know that the moon isn’t circular?” You pointed lazily to it, bright and beautiful amongst the even brighter stars. “According to scientests, it’s actually shaped like a lemon!” Kaz didn’t fight his smile.

Of course you’d be spouting off the little factoids you knew about space. You loved it, how vast and crazy it all seemed.

“And that the clouds at the center of the Milky Way smell like raspberries and rum?” Kaz snorted.

“Okay, now, theres no way that ones true!”

“Oh,” you leaned up, booping his nose without a care in the world. “But it is! It’s in a study somewhere, I think! Look it up!” He laughed, pulling you closer to him as you rambled.

Inej had started doing running flips across the roof, spinning and dancing and no doubt laughing as she did. Kaz knew it was an elaborate effort to get you to smile, and it seemed to work as she moved; a delightful silhouette amongst a star filled sky.

“I love you, Kaz Brekker,” you whispered. “You don’t need to say it back, but I really, truly do love you with every bone that exists in my body.”

“I love you too,” he said it without hesitation. “And I’ll love you until we’re old and grey, I swear it.”

“Don’t hold me to that promise,” you murmured. “You know how bad this is. Stop thinking that I’ll make it into the new year. I probably wont.”

“You will if it kills me, Y/N,” he gave your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I’ll drain the bank dry if I have to, I swear to Ghezen.”

You didn’t say anything after, too exhausted to even think about starting an argument with him, simply not wanting to.

But then, an hour later, Kaz felt fear trickle into his stomach like it hadn’t ever in his life.

“And then theres Supernova. It’s like a star that’s dying having it’s last celebration. Like when we get a really big win, or when we get away with what we intended to get away with, and we all get shitfaced before we collapse onto our beds and sleep for the night? A supernova is a dying stars explosion. It’s the last celebration that the star has before it dies out.” you’d been rambling.

“Tonight is my... tonight is my...” Kaz had called for Nina right then and there, screaming her name while he felt you go slack against him.

“Zenik!” He screamed, not caring at all if he were to wake up Jespers father. “Zenik, call in that fucking favor with the bloody Ravkan prince!” Matthias came barreling out after her, phone in hand, already speaking to someone as Nina began working, steadying your heart and trying her hardest to keep you alive.

Kaz had to force himself to walk away from it all, pushing his feet away after giving your shoulders one last squeeze and walking far out into the field.

Once he was sure he was out of earshot, he couldn’t stop himself. Tears flooded his eyes and he found himself glaring at the sky, wanting to scream, wanting to shout, wishing that there was someone around that he could gut like a fish.

“Saints,” he murmured through gritted teeth. “Sankt Ilya, Sankt Adrik, Sankta Alina of The Fold, I know I am a terrible person, but Y/N is not. They’re good, they smile, they laugh, they’re kind to others when those people probably don’t deserve their kindness. I know I’m damned, I know that you probably strongly dislike me, but they’re different.” He’d never asked the Saints for anything before, and he never would again.

“Please, just, let them live. Let them get the life that they deserve. I’ll do my best to make them happy, but you have to let me,” he wiped the tears from his eyes as they came. “They deserve the life that you’re so willing to take away, and all I ask is that you don’t take it.” He heard the sounds of the ambulance car and raced back to you, gripping your hand as they helped you onto a stretcher and out of the field, through the house and out the entrance.

I won’t lose them, he told himself. A world without them is one that’s unbearable.

O N E Y E A R L A T E R

You laughed as Nina chased you through the halls of the Little Palace, running quickly through the endless corridors, your laughter carrying through them as you kept yourself in front of Nina.

Nikolai had kept you in the Os Altan palace since that night, where Inej laughed and danced and did her flips, whilst Wylan played the piano and Kaz sat beside you, listening to your ramblings without a care in the world.

“You seem delighted,” Nikolai noticed as you stopped in front of his office. “I’ve never seen you walk without that Brekker boy at your side, much less run while Zenik is on your tail!” You shrugged, laughing as Ninas front crashed into your back.

“This is the best I’ve felt in a year,” you murmured. “I figured I’d see if Nina was up to chase me around this morning, and I haven’t stopped running since!” You peered in through the open office door, looking for that familliar mop of dark brown hair.

Nina wrapped her arms around you and gave you a gentle squeeze. “He’ll be here any minute,” she murmured. “He and the boys are just finishing up a job for Nik in East Ravka, but Matthias told me the second that they’d left!”

“Trust me. Y/N,” Nikolais smooth voice murmured. “I put them on one of my fastest boats. I knew how long it’d take them to get from here to east Ravka and back, and I promised him he’d be here when you finally awoke.”

“Hows it feel, anyway?” Zoya appeared at his side. “Eighteen, I mean.” You shrugged.

“I miss Kaz,” you murmured bluntly. “I hate that I have to tell him that he was right, but I still miss him.”

Nikolai took Zoyas hand, pulling her close as you and Nina watched, smiles on your faces.

“Young love,” Zoya teased. “Zenik, let go of them so that they can turn around.” Nina obeyed, letting you go and moving to lean against the doorway with Nikolai and Zoya.

You turned, and smiled when your gazes met. “You were right, Brekker,” you murmured, walking toward him as he held out your gift to you. “I’m better now, and the second that you’re ready to spar, I’m gonna beat your ass, even though you’ve your cane as a weapon.” He grabbed your pinky with his the moment you were within distance.

“How’d the heist go?” You murmured once the two of you had walked out of earshot.

“Good,” Kaz let himself be close to you as you two moved, squeezing your pinky as you slowed your steps. “Plan went off without a hitch, for three idiots and a mastermind with a limp. I brought you this from it,” he held the gift out to you again, and you took it in your free hand, examining it.

“I had to ask permission for that,” he murmured. “I had to get the Ravkan kings seal of approval to steal that for you.” You laughed, looking it over.

It was a journal. Black and leather bound, pages crisp and untouched. A pen was tucked into the cover.

“I promise, we’ll go home soon,” you responded. “I miss Ketterdam. I could go for some waffles.”

“Don’t they have waffles here?” Kaz questioned.

“Not Ketterdam waffles, love. Ketterdam waffles are unlike any pathetic waffle from here! Doused in syrup and whip cream--” You let out a satisfied sigh. “So good it’s almost surreal!” Kaz smirked.

“Waffle date when you’re well enough to return home then?”

“Certainly.”

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #platonic inej ghafa x reader #six of crows #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix #waffles

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loki-wants-an-army · 3 years

Text

Why is our Loki so underpowered now though? Since when does he not know how to do magic on his own??? We’ve seen him cast illusions, use mind control or influence, shapeshift, and telekinesis buildings into oblivion. We’ve seen him wield the Tesseract and the Casket of Ancient Winters. He can hide from Heimdall. We’ve seen him go toe-to-toe with Thor and the other Avengers. He’s battled frost giants, tricked and slain Laufey, and killed six Dark Elves in like three seconds. He gets up from being shot point-blank with a SHIELD energy cannon without so much as a scratch, easily catches Hawkeye’s arrow with his bare hands, is unharmed by its explosion, and is still barely scathed after being Hulk smashed through reinforced concrete. He doesn’t die when he gets killed. All the other variants of the character are off doing sorcery or highly skilled fighting in this series and yet most of the time ours just flits about awkwardly whilst dressed as a TVA accounting temp? Where is the sardonic, razor wit? He is not the only one lacking it, no one in this show feels clever.

Frankly, I think the ability to write a magically powered character well is directly dependent on the creativity, intellect, and boldness of the writers. Why was he running around to distract the lianth? We know he can duplication cast, create illusions, and hel, make fireworks, etc. Any or all of his own established powers would have served as well as or even better than a variant-ex-machina. He could have even led the other variants to that idea by starting it. More importantly, there are other ways to create intensity and drive a plot forward, you don’t always have to just throw up a giant monster or explosion.

I think the writers are too invested in their OCs. (B-15 is actually interesting though, at least she’s someone whose story seems worth caring about. C-20 could have been explored better too). Sylvie is a character I could have been very fond of if the story was being written differently, but as it stands now I feel almost resentful towards her. I came to see Loki (and not as her comic relief sidekick and/or *cringes* canon love interest. Of course fanfic writers and shippers feel free to do whatever you wish, and know that I don’t judge you for it, but that said I also don’t believe it should be in the official MCU canon. I really hoped and thought it would just be a fake-out).

Loki is NOT A NARCISSIST.

I don’t find it funny to use repetitive torture as a gag particularly on an already canonically abused and traumatized character (especially one of whom I am unashamedly rather fond, but this is a general rule). Loki is not some coddled little disney prince. This character ( the God of Mischief, a Prince of Asgard, the rightful King of Jotunheim) has been through a ridiculous variety of his own hardships, battles alongside Thor, battles against him, and alone. He is extremely powerful and experienced. He did not start out as a typical villain, and “redemption” does not mean he has to be depowered, converted into a typical hero, or otherwise made boring. Loki has always hovered somewhere more towards the middle, most interesting part of the spectrum, one slight shift of balance or interpretation sends him tilting back-and-forth from one side or the other in each given situation.

For whatever reason, the writers feel the need to have every character directly say everything they think and feel out loud as it happens. It comes across clunky, ooc, oversimplified, and dull. They also tell us what they want us to think about each character. You can’t tell your audience how to feel, the organic response to and interpretation of the story, its characters, and their actions is our glorious purpose job. Especially coming in with a character like Loki who has had a dedicated fanbase since the days of yore, you can’t afford to be so presumptuous as to believe the audience will just buy right into your interpretation, story, and your OCs’ words about him immediately or without question. We the audience have been around Loki and gotten to know and understand this character over a long time. Sure there’s differing fan interpretations, but there’s also some things that even if not outright stated in dialogue are still indisputably part of the text. Mind your lore and all its rich details. Respecting the history of an already familiar character should actually broaden the scope of your own storytelling.

In Thor (2011) Loki was legitimately given the throne; Heimdall, Sif, and The Warriors Three committed treason against him, he killed Laufey. Loki’s goal was not to acquire the throne; but to prevent war and delay an arrogant, violent Thor’s ascent to power. He sought acceptance and an equal place in his family and among the people of Asgard. He tried to commit suicide at the end but was found and tortured by Thanos and his sniveling sycophants instead, leading to the events of Avengers, where he was also under the influence of the mind stone.

A lot of the things that feel awkward or ooc aren’t so much inherently bad ideas as poor planning and execution. The show wants to be smarter than it is, but also wants to be full of a brand of humor that just doesn’t land within this context.

Alligator Loki, I don’t fully understand, but I respect enough. I think it’s best left unquestioned. Unfortunately, it’s really not that surprising or strange to me.

#loki series critical #i'm sorry i don't like to post negativity and there are moments in this thing i enjoy #but it feels too much like a fanfic rather often #if it was one i probably would have closed the tab and gone to something else #and for the love of the realms please stop with the loki sylvie ... whatever that tension is #i feel a deep sense of discomfort with it right down into my very skeleton #again something i probably would not be bothered by if it were a fanfic #i really do try to not be a negative blogger #the cast is doing amazing #and the soundtrack is brilliant too #but this thing needs editors and writers #loki series spoilers #loki series meta

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foxofninetales · 3 years

Text

Carbon and Other Forms Of Dating by Fox_of_Nine_Tales

Written for the 10 Year Promise Pingxie fic exchange - read all the exchange fics here!

Fandom: DMBJ | The Grave Robber’s Chronicles, The Lost Tomb 1, Ultimate Note

Pairing: Wu Xie / Zhang Qiling, background Hei Xia Zi/Xie Yuchen

Rating: Teen

Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Humor, Romance, Idiots in Love, Action/Adventure, First Meetings. Getting Together, Meet-Cute, Angst, Pining, Supernatural Elements, Canon-Typical Violence, OOC Sanshu (not a complete bastard), plot holes you could drive a bus through just go with it, Old Bastard (Carp) - Character, a suspiciously familiar fox

Summary:

Roped into a temp job as night watchman at his uncle’s museum, Wu Xie is looking forward to the most boring summer of his life. Until his other uncle sends him a mysterious artifact...

(A Night at the Museum inspired DMBJ AU.)

Excerpt:

“This,” said Pangzi, “is your badge. It’ll get you in and out of the restricted areas. And this is your radio. And this-” he held out a clunky silver cylinder “-is your flashlight. Any questions?”

Wu Xie held the flashlight out at arm’s length. It weighed more than his heaviest textbook and was, at a guess, older than he was. “Yes. Why is this in my hand and not in one of the display cases?”

“Don’t mock your elders and betters!" Pangzi held up an admonishing finger. "That flashlight is the elegant weapon of a more civilized age. Besides, you know we keep the lights low at night to protect the artifacts, so you may actually need that now and then.”

Wu Xie let his wrist go limp under the weight. “You do know that we have cell phones now, right? With built in flashlights?”

Pangzi snorted. “Where’s the poetry in that? You discover that a couple teenagers have hidden out inside the yurt diorama again and you’re going to, what, take a selfie with them? Nope. The flashlight comes with the job.” He took it from Wu Xie’s hand and hooked it on his belt, next to the radio, then stepped back to admire the effect. “There. Now you really look the part.”

“Thanks,” said Wu Xie dryly. “Rub it in, why don’t you?”

“Look, you were the one who was all excited when your uncle said he had a summer job for you at the museum. If you didn’t want it, you could have turned it down.”

“I thought he meant working in the preservation rooms, or staging the displays, or… or anything that uses my degree! Not this.” He waved his badge in resigned disgust.

“Hey!” said Pangzi. “Being a security guard is a fine and noble occupation. Defending priceless artifacts-“

“There’s nothing here that's that rare, you know.”

“-against the depraved intruders-“

“School fieldtrips.”

“-who would threaten our country’s glorious past!”

“You had to scrape gum off the lion statue again.”

Pangzi smacked Wu Xie lightly on the back of the head. “Besides, it’s not like you actually have the degree yet.”

“I’m working on it, though!” Wu Xie rubbed at his head, trying uselessly to restore some order to curls that were only too ready for any excuse to become disordered. “Just one more year! And then I’m going to be out there competing against other graduates who got actual summer internships in their field of study.”

“Yeah, and you could have had one, too, if you were willing for it to be unpaid. You want to earn some money? You’re gonna do some real work.” Pangzi grinned at Wu Xie as he stuck his tongue out at him. “You’re just annoyed that nepotism didn’t work.”

There may have been a little truth in that. “Couldn’t I at least be on the day shift? At least then maybe some stunningly attractive visitor would come in and we could have a meet-cute over the jade radish or something. If I can’t get academic cred, at least let me have a summer romance, Pangzi!”

“The job that was open was for night security guard, that’s the job you get,” said Pangzi ruthlessly. “You can romance the mummy, okay?”

Read it on AO3

Bonus extra: since this is set in a museum, beneath the cut are some visual references for the various exhibits (with links to more info), in case anyone is curious!

I won’t post a pic here (because she’s enough like a recent corpse that it might bother some folks) but follow the link to read more about Xin Zhui, the incredibly well-preserved Han Dynasty mummy.

Here’s her stone coffin:

Han dynasty jade burial suit (no, I wasn’t kidding about the articulation)

The Sword of Goujian

Jadite cabbage (the inspiration for this fic’s jade radish)

Insect specimens

Tang Dynasty pottery female polo player figurines

Ming Dynasty stone lion

Qing Dynasty dragon screen (this one found at auction here)

BIanzhong - bronze bells

Song Dynasty silk painting

Woodblock prints

Zhou Dynasty jade tortoise

Qin Dynasty bronze cranes

Qin Dynasty hanfu (though I admit my visual is significantly affected by my favorite costume from TSOTMD)

Compsognathus

Martaban Jar

The koi pond floor and the pottery huli jing were, I will admit, creations of my own whimsy!

I honestly don’t know if the jade “ritual object” is real or not, because that was not a Google search I was prepared to make.

#my fic #dmbj #foxfic #pingxie #10 Year Promise exchange #carbon and other forms of dating

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living-dead-parker · 5 years

Text

New Girl

Summary: Request - Can you do an imagine where your Tony’s daughter and there’s this new girl intern whose trying to outdo you so u feel like the avengers don’t really need you because you think she’s smarter and prettier than you .. thanks :)

What? I actually wrote something??

Warnings: cussing probably, slight angst, real ooc shit but idc man

Word Count: 4.5k ooh she long

You're not a jealous person. Really, you'd always felt jealousy was an ugly color. Unfortunately for you, everybody would describe you as such at the moment. Though in your defense, it's not jealousy. It's a case of fraud!

"Good job, Ally," your dad congratulates the intern. she'd originally been a temp. A seasonal temp for the Spring. Well, spring was over three months ago. In fact, Fall is approaching and it seems like she'll still be here for at least another three months. You scowl inwardly, tired of hearing her name. " We're all meeting in20 to discuss the Halloween charity event," Tony says and your eyes widen. She was definitely not invited to that meeting! "Meet us in conference room B, please?"

It's not that you don't like temps or interns. In fact, you've become great friends with a lot of them over the years. It's just something about Ally. She's a total suck up and she's totally stealing your place. Before she came along, the team would come to you for suit and tech upgrades. They'd go to you for advice on combat in regards to their suits or tech. But ever since Ally came around, she's taken over that. The team goes to her now and they seem to like her better for it as the last person to have stepped into your lab was your dad, three days ago to ask you if you could consult with Ally. Before that was Peter about a month and a half before that to hang out. It's been a while. Then you'd been placed to work on some SI renewable energy source project but then that responsibility went to Ally as well. Ultimately, you didn't have much to do, so you started, unknown to anybody but yourself, dabbling in the fashion industry and took up witchcraft because you have the time.

Before you even hear her response, you turn around and head out towards the elevators. Along the way, you find yourself bumping into Peter. He's quick to apologize despite the fact that you were the one not watching where you were going.

" Peter?" you call out confused. Why he's even on that floor, to begin with taking you by surprise. He has his own lab on the same floor you, your father, and Bruce do. Nowhere near this floor. "What are you doing here?"

" Uh," he pauses, nervously scratching his neck. "I was gonna meet with Ally. Gonna ask her if she can help me repair my web shooters, hang out a bit too."

You almost visibly deflate at that. Great, even your crush would rather go to Ally for something than you. You've helped Peter with his web shooters before, and he'd usually always hang out with you. What the hell? " Oh," you finally respond. "I can help you! After the meeting, I mean."

" It's fine, Y/N," Peter responds. "Don't wanna put a lot on your plate. Go work on your pitch."

Before you can say anything, Ally is walking out with your dad. The two are laughing like they've known each other for years. She calls out to Peter and he tells you he'll see you in a few. You watch him walk up to Ally and you pick up on how she bites her lip, tucking a strand of her long, black, straight hair behind her ear. Her green eyes stare into Peter's and you suddenly feel self-conscious as Peter stares at her.

"Hey Y/N," your dad calls out, walking next to you. "Why are you down here?" He presses a button and the elevator opens, allowing both of you to step in.

"Oh, you know," you start, waving him off. " Just practicing for the meeting. you know how I am."

Tony nods as the elevator goes up two floors to the conference floor. Upon arrival, your phone dings, showing an email notification. You open it and see it's from someone named Alex Gianni. A fashion designer on the come up. Not too unknown as his clothing is all the rage with teens and internet influencers. However, the biggest thing about him is that his father, Arlo Gianni, is one of your father's biggest critics. The two have a mutual dislike for each other and it's kind of hilarious. Nonetheless, you're acquaintances with Alex.

' Y/N Stark, It's in my interest to ask you if you're available to direct my winter line's fashion show. I'm well aware of your eye for design and fashion as well as the mixture of applied sciences into your practices. In short, I grant you creative freedom over the show, based on the looks should you decide to accept this offer.'

Initially, you didn't think much of the email and decided to ignore it for the time being. You'd decline his offer later, for the sake of your dear old dad. However, the offer is very tempting. You've been wanting to do a show before, but you never really got the chance. Nonetheless, you push the thought behind and decide to focus on the subject matter of the meeting.

"Where's Parker?" you find yourself asking, seconds before the meeting is set to start. Everyone shrugs but Tony says to just start without him, that he'll fill him in on the information. So you commence the meeting. Most of your bit is the introductory stuff. Pepper would begin discussing the meat of it all. Halfway through your speech, Peter and Ally walk in, laughing obnoxiously loud. Their eyes widen when they see you and your upset face. Being the professional you are, you continue like that never happened. However, as you continue, you notice the unprofessionalism of the others in the room. They all managed to start some kind of conversation with Ally and even Pepper and your father managed to ignore you and to join in. Peter couldn't seem to keep his voice down and that was the final straw. "And I have a big announcement to make!"

The loudness of your voice gained all thin attention. With a smile used to hide the anger and the heartbreak, you speak up. "I've decided to drop out of the charity event organizer committee. Pepper will be fine on her own, I know she will be."

With that, you head out the conference room and into the elevator. Once the doors shut, you let the tears fall. The anger and the sadness of having everybody forget about you and Choose the seemingly smarter and prettier girl finally coming out. Through teary eyes, you unlock your phone and decide to email Alex back.

' Hey Alex, I would be honored to direct your show! I'm so glad you chose me, please let me know when you'd like to meet to discuss plans.'

Two days passed before you got a sudden response. You'd spent those two days in bed crying and listening to a lot of Fleetwood Mac. No one even tried looking for you or talking to you for those two days given that you haven't gotten a single knock on your door, nor a text or call, not even a message from FRIDAY. When you opened the response, you saw that it was a text from Alex asking if you could meet in two hours. You were quick to respond, jumping up to get ready. For the first time in 48 hours, you were up and smiling.

You were quick to throw on some jeans, a top, and a coat over that. You asked FRIDAY to do a scan where everybody was so that you could avoid them all for now. Deep down, you feel like you're exaggerating, but at the same time, you know you're not. Everyone has been forgetting about you, often ignoring you for Ally for the past six months. Some you've gone that amount of time not seeing. It's depressing. Their unprofessionalism was just the thing that made you break. So, FRIDAY gives you the best route to take so you don't have to see any of them and you take it. You're in a car withing ten minutes and you're driving off toward's Alex's house to meet up.

That's how the next couple of weeks went, without anyone noticing. You'd wake up at 9 AM, get ready for your day and head out as soon as you were ready. You'd go to the nearest cafe, get some breakfast, and eat. Then, you'd get to Alex's house by 10:30. Then, you'd both convene for a while, bouncing ideas off each other, and get to drawing or writing plans. You'd try on the clothes, feel it, look at it. He'd take you to the stores, spend some time with the die-hard fans of his and his brand. You truly delved into the world of the clothes. By the time you were done, it'd be dinner time. You'd have dinner with Alex's family, and it was those moments that you got the familial attention you'd been craving for some time now. Sure, Arlo made comments about your dad, and usually, you'd refute them, but not this time around. Instead, you ignored them and just pretended they were never said. It felt wrong but it felt nice to have someone actually ask you how your day was despite spending the day around you. On days where you weren't over at Alex's house, you'd spend some time watching videos or pictures from influencers who wore his stuff. You'd be in your own rabbit hole for hours on end, listening to music that could serve as a possible soundtrack. You'd even go into your lab and find ways to improve on the show through engineering and science.

Then it all came crashing, in a sense, one day. There were about three weeks until showtime, and you were at home in your lab. You'd gotten the notification. You were expecting the news to come out, it had to at some point before the show. However, you weren't really expecting the backlash from those around you. It started with Alex's brand posting the picture on the brand's account. It was a black and white picture of you, Arlo, and Alex standing in Alex's office. You're all looking at a rack of the new clothes and you're all smiling and laughing. A candid picture. Around it had the words 'Lexicon Couture x Y/N Stark Fall and Winter 19.' It had the date of the show and the time it would happen. The caption read, 'Something big is coming. #LexiconxStark #GiannixStark'

Everyone was freaking out in the comments, the post becoming one of the brand's most liked. Next, came Alex's post. It was the same thing, except he tagged you in the post and he even added a red heart emoji. A most exclusive emoji. Then finally came Arlo's post. It was a repost of Alex's and he added something along the lines of 'my basically new daughter has teamed up with my son for his line.'

Not too long after the posts went viral, you got the email from the company to repost the pictures to gain even more viewership, so you did, leaving the caption as simple yet ominous as the brand's caption. Not too long after you posted it was there a knock on your door. You were too busy adding some finishing touches to the design to care that it could be something not good, so without hesitation, you tell the person to come in.

"You're working with Arlo Gianni?" your dad asks, bursting through the door. You look up from your tablet, seeing Tony's totally devastated look. Without thinking about it, you nod, looking back down at the sketches on your tablet. "The Arlo Gianni? The one who's one of my many enemies? Y/N, how could you do this to me?"

"It's not that serious-"

"Not that serious? He called you his daughter, in his post, Y/N. I take offense to that."

"Look, I didn't take offense to you calling Ally 'like a daughter' okay? Plus, he's not that bad once you get to know him. I was only working with Alex at the beginning but much like all his other kid's ventures, his dad got involved because he cares. Plus Arlo feeds me and asks me how my day has been. I'm just finally trying to set foot into the fashion world like I have been for the past couple of years and my good friend Alex is offering me an outlet to do just that by allowing me full artistic and directorial creativity over his line's show."

Tony stays quiet, noticing how you don't look up at him. "Well, Peter seems devastated that you're so close to Alex. He ranted to Ally the other day that the girl he likes, you know you, has disappeared for days and suddenly she's shown hanging out with Alex Gianni. So...."

"I don't know what you want me to say, dad," you respond, hoping he gets the hint that you're upset now. Hoping he'll react in one of two ways; leave you alone, or apologize for being a dick. "I'm just chasing my dreams here since I have nothing to do here. So, if you're gonna keep chastising me, please go away."

Without another word, he exits your room. When the door shuts, you ask FRIDAY to lock it, feeling the tears come out. Suddenly, you're friends with the enemy and that's when Peter and Tony decide to come around to realizing that they want you? That's when they decide to come around? All for the wrong reasons too? Well, now you plan on rubbing it in that you don't really need them. Yeah, sure it's mostly spite speaking, but deep down you're pissed. How dare they think that they can cast you out and then get mad when you find something of your own to do?

So the next day when Alex asks you if you want to go on his family's vacation for the week, you're quick to respond yes. They'd claimed it would be a celebratory trip to Italy for finishing the show ahead of time. You'd spent the next week teasing your father, the Avengers, and Peter by making them jealous. A post about how Alex is your most handsome best friend at the moment for Peter to see, an Instagram post with Alex's whole family, calling them the best and most supportive team on earth aimed at all the Avengers, and a Snapchat post with Arlo pouring you a glass of champagne to stab your own father in the chest the way he did to you. It was petty, it was ridiculous, and it was everything you felt like doing at the moment. Then at some point in the week, your intentions became sort of clear to Alex, who found it rather amusing. He admitted that he wasn't attracted to you in that way because he's gay, but he'd help you in the part of making Peter jealous by posing with you in various promising poses.

The week was over and you were back home. Now there were only two weeks until showtime and it was time to do some press. Alex had been in interviews all day and you were meant to be working on a guest list for the show, and you weren't so sure if you wanted to invite your dad or the Avengers. On one hand, you've worked on this on your own. This was your thing and you wanted to enjoy it as such. However, you do want them there, even if you currently are upset with every one of them. Plus, it could be a good way to rub it in their faces.

So with that, you add them all to the list. You go on about your business for the next couple of hours, until you see that Alex has sent you a link to a video of one of the interviews he did. In the interview, he reveals that he wanted you to do the show because you inspired the line. He'd based most of the line on your style but gave it a more urban and even modern spin for the youth to wear, as he claimed. Essentially, you were his muse. It all kind of made sense why it all came easy to you. It was based on you. You found it flattering and that made your heart skip a beat, joy filling every fiber of your being. Someone did notice you when everybody else did not.

So, you did some press and eventually, the show came around. You'd been at the venue all day, helping prepare and get everything accounted for. You were running this thing and it was a tight ship, so nothing could go wrong. Everyone got there in time, everything got put together in time, and by the time it was an hour until showtime, you were beyond tired. You had a total of thirty models, a great variation of everything and you felt proud. You cooled down before the show, deciding to get yourself sort of ready for post-show pictures and interviews. When the show started, the sound of Rico Nasty's Roof began to play and the crowd began to cheer. Then the first model walked out; donning a pair of acid-washed distressed jeans with a cropped multi-color jacket, a white Lexicon tee, and some platforms. Her hair was in messy space buns and she wore some neon-pink sunglasses to match the jacket. Right as she reached the end of the runway, another model came out, wearing more from the fall line. You watched from behind the walls of the facade to see the Avengers, your dad, Pepper, and Peter all sitting front and center. Nowhere in sight was Ally. Good.

People seemed to enjoy the fall portion of the show, and it was probably the most fun part to direct. The fall line was more of a modern urban thing, something the cool kids are wearing today and it's very in your face. It's very 'break shit and rage' as you've explained before and you've always had a knack for alternative dress styled. It was punk meets hood and you've always thought that was a cool style. Eventually, after a good twenty minutes, that portion of the show was over. Alex came out and announced a short five-minute intermission, wanting to prepare and transition into the second portion smoothly. In that time, you ran around making sure everyone was good to go. Once the five minutes were over, the sound of Fleetwood Mac's The Chain begins to play. This was the fall portion, which to you was a more formal style. It was warmer in tone and in use, and it was more sophisticated. It still had a youthful feel, but it was more formal than the other stuff. Nonetheless, everyone at the show seemed to dig it. By the time the show was over, everyone was giving the models a standing ovation. At the end of it, you and Alex came out, earning the loudest cheers of all.

At that moment, you felt the rush you'd been searching for. You found your calling and it was everything you expected it to be and more. Once the crowd silenced, Alex wrapped an arm around your shoulder and hugged you close as he took the mic and took the time to address the audience. You watched him proudly as he spoke, one of the biggest smiles on your faces.

"I especially want to thank my best friend, my partner, my muse, Y/N Stark," he speaks, looking back at you as the crowd cheers. "For taking up the job as director of the show. She did an amazing job with everything and through this process, we became closer. She's so creative and I'm glad she agreed to this. My show wouldn't have been the same, and it probably would have failed if it was anybody else."

He hands you the mic and you take it, watching as everyone silences down. You begin your speech, just saying thank you to everyone and it makes you feel emotional deep inside. "I also want to thank the Gianni's for taking me in during this process, making me feel like family and taking care of me during all the long nights and early mornings," you say, taking your father by surprise. "I also want to thank my father Tony Stark and the Avengers for unknowingly fueling my necessity for this show, otherwise, I don't know if I would have done it," you continue. "Most of all, I wanna thank Alex," you pause and notice the way Peter looks jealous as you turn to Alex. "For putting me on this project, for trusting me to do this, and for being the best friend a girl could ask for. For encouraging me to do my own thing after this and for helping me realize some things. Anyways, thank you all so much!"

By the time everyone is off stage, all sorts of people are coming up to you and to Alex, asking you all sorts of questions. All you want to do at this time is get to the afterparty and get a drink or something. Maybe get a burger or some tacos on the way, but you just want a meal and a drink. So, you get through it all as quick as possible and by the time you're done, the only people left are your dad and the Avengers. They're all standing together, some of them holding flowers, others holding cards. You chuckle, feeling a little nervous to approach them. However, you do it anyway, because you can only ignore them for so long. Apparently that limit was about two months. So with that, you walk up to them, a small smile on your lips.

"I have a feeling we're all in for a lecture," Tony speaks up, handing you some flowers. Your nod, eyes wide and words ready to go.

"Yeah, thank you, you whole bunch of actual assholes," you say, making them all go wide-eyed and gasp at your bluntness. "For ignoring me for nearly eight whole months over some intern who was just supposed to be a temp. I don't know if any of you notice, but Ally? I hate that bitch! And I rarely hate anybody! So, the fact that you all ignored me for her at some point in time? That's kind of annoying."

"We didn't ignore you for her-" Steve begins.

"Yeah, we didn't mean to, at least." Natasha comments.

"Hm, let me think," you say, letting it all out now. "Natasha the last time we talked was literally four months ago. Steve, you haven't talked to me in six. Peter, you've ditched me for Ally, which was kind of heartbreaking because I liked you and I kind of thought you liked me back, but ya know, and she's so much prettier than me, so that doesn't help either," you ramble. "Pepper, you basically wanted me off that project and then you got Ally's help, so that was fun. Bruce, Thor, Sam, Bucky, and Wanda, all of you immediately ditched me for Ally, so that kind of sucked. And most of all, my dead old dad. That little argument with you kind of hurt because you were so betrayed that I was working with Arlo Gianni, but behind closed doors, he'd been taking care of me better than you had for the past couple of months since Ally came around. Plus, you only ever talked to me to tell me that Ally would be taking over one of my projects or that I'd have to cover for you in a meeting."

"Why didn't you tell us sooner?" Tony asks, mirroring everyone's guilty frown.

"I wanted you guys to realize you were shutting me out," you say, the tears you'd been holding in for the better part of eight months now finally coming out. "I was always initiating interactions with you because no one paid me the time of day. But then I finally decided to stop, see if it made an impact, and apparently, it did not, because no one sought me out for so long. But that day of the Halloween Charity meeting, Alex emailed me right before it, asking me to direct this for him. I was initially going to decline, but once the meeting was in full swing and then Peter was walking in laughing with Ally, and then everyone began to tune me out to start talking with her, that was what caused me to snap. You all shut me out, so I took the hint and fucked off. I accepted Alex's offer and for the first time in months, I'd felt happy. I felt happy, I felt needed, I wasn't alone, I wasn't someone's second or last choice. And it felt good."

"Y/N," Tony whispers, stepping closer. "We're so sorry, sweetie," he says sincerely, pulling you into his arms. Everyone begins piling around, hugging you as well. "I'm sorry we didn't realize that earlier. I didn't know we made you feel that way, it wasn't anyone's intention to make you feel worthless or anything. I just told everyone to back off a bit because I didn't want you thinking that SI or Avengers stuff was all you had to do all the time."

"But did I ever complain?" you ask, and everyone goes silent. "I didn't mind helping with that. I loved doing all that work because it meant that I was always hanging out with one of you guys. So you can only imagine how shitty I felt when suddenly, no one was talking to me. Trading me in for Ally."

They all stay silent for a few seconds. Then the wave of apologies came around and you find yourself laughing.

"Look, it's fine. I'm over it now, my grudge has gone away because I found my calling, I found my thing and I'm happier now. I found my best friend in this world, and I found my group of people away from my initial group of people and I'm just over it. But please from now on, no ignoring me? Or else I'll pick up a new passion out of spite."

Everyone is quick to agree, hounding you in another giant group hug, assuring you that they all still cared. After that day, Ally didn't become much of a problem. She still worked at SI, still in her current position, but you managed to stay away from her. Everyone would talk to you like normal and Peter went back to hanging out with you again, making sure to always comment on how he likes you and not Ally. You'd hold it over him for some time, opting to torture him with his crush just a bit longer, just because you're a sadistic spiteful person. In the end, it all worked out as you began to take the fashion world by storm.

Leave feedback, requests, and asks, please!!

#tony stark #tony stark x reader #tony stark x stark!reader #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x stark!reader #reader insert #request #stark!reader #stark!daughter #iron man #spider-man #marvel fic #mcu fic #spiderman imagine #tony stark imagine #slight angst

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priorireverte · 3 years

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Congratulations Rachie!

Your application for Narcissa Malfoy has been accepted. I am so excited to have both halves of one of my favourite pairs around, and to see Narcissa being amazing and calm and collected even when facing a total upheaval of her world—again.

Please look to the checklist for the next steps and reach out if you have any questions!

OUT OF CHARACTER

NAME & PRONOUNS: Rachie / She/her

AGE: 29

TIMEZONE: GMT

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I can generally be on every day for a few hours, and then a little bit more at the weekends! I work full time (and am currently in temp housing) but I try to find time each day to be online cause rping is my stress relief!

ANYTHING ELSE: No triggers. But I’ve been rping in the HP world for approx 10ish years? I’ve rped on a dedicated site, and then more recently on tumblr. I’ve also been rping non-HP role plays on tumblr on and off for about five years.

CHARACTER DETAILS

NAME: Narcissa Violetta Malfoy (neé Black)

BIRTHDATE: 31st August 1956

DEATHDATE: N/A

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Cis Woman, she/her and Demisexual. When asked, Narcissa would more than likely say she was straight, and has probably never been attracted to anyone not male. But in actual fact it is the emotional connections she has with a person that really leads to the eventual sexual attraction. In actual fact since she has had a strong emotional bond, and relationship with Lucius, she has never looked at anyone else in that manner at all.

BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Slytherin

OCCUPATION: Technically Narcissa is unemployed, and most of the Wixen world would view her as a housewife, and having never worked a day in her life. In actual fact Narcissa has ‘worked’ as a private potioneer ever since she graduated Hogwarts. She brews and works out of Malfoy manor. Of course, she’s very exclusive, and charges very high rates. It was generally the other purebloods that she would brew potions for.

FACECLAIM: Charlize Theron

CHARACTER BACKGROUND

POSTBELLUM

If there was one thing that drove Narcissa more than anything it was her family. She had always been a family person, and to her there was nothing more important than the family she had created. They were the reason she made the choices she did, and why she betrayed the Dark Lord. One might not even call it a betrayal. Technically she wasn’t a death eater. She was never marked. But it was clear to the Wixen world the side she had chosen. But she had chosen to betray the cause anyway, and she does not regret it. The war hadn’t been anything she had really wanted, and so for it to end, was something she was grateful for.

She isn’t the woman she was then though. Not anymore. In the manor, she might seem more like herself. But she sometimes finds herself more clingy, or more in need of physical contact. It sucks because she doesn’t really have many people that want to hug her anymore. Her relationship with her husband sometimes feels strained. She still adores Lucius, but it’s been more difficult since the war. They both went through so much, and are both still working through things. But what Narcissa knows is that she will always love and be dedicated to her husband, regardless of the choices he made.

These days Narcissa is just taking each day as it comes. She still worries that someone might change their mind about the Malfoy’s getting a pardon. She could probably talk her way out of getting imprisoned, technically she was never actually involved. But she worried about what a jail sentence would do to her husband and son. She tries to hold her little family together and navigate through the world.

But she is fearful. Fearful of what will happen if her sister, or the dark lord come back through that veil. She betrayed them, and she knows they will come for her if that happens. Now she’s just praying it won’t happen.

PERSONALITY

positive traits: Loving, Loyal, Fighter, Determined, protective negative traits: Manipulative, Calculating, Cold, worrier

Narcissa has always been a loving, loyal and protective person. She has always been a person with a huge heart, even if from the outside people might disagree. When she loves, she loves hard, and it is almost impossible for her to stop loving someone. This of course was tested when Andromeda left. If being honest, Narcissa still loves her sister, but she had to turn away, if only to protect herself. The bonds she forms are deep, and very emotional. They can be taxing, and sometimes too much.

As loving and friendly she is to those lucky enough to be close to her, Narcissa is also incredibly calculating, cold and manipulating. She has an extraordinarily strong talent in manipulating people to do her wishes. Add a cold exterior, and she managed to get a ice queen reputation. To be honest, it kind of amused her, as it was really so far how she would describe herself. But it fended off the people that she once thought weren’t good enough to be around her. It’s been a reputation she’s found hard to shake off in recent years, and she stills finds herself having to prove that she is kind and caring. Narcissa still doesn’t care too much about what people think of her though. People will talk about her regardless.

Narcissa is incredibly academically talented. Sadly at school she wasn’t really allowed to pursue a career, and her parents didn’t want her to focus too much on her schooling. But Narcissa was very clever. Her best subject was potions, and she was determined to carry on brewing, even after she graduated. It was a huge stress reliever for her, and she know being able to brew, and escape from reality, is something that kept her sane over the years.

Family has always been important to Narcissa, and if anything was the main driving factor in everything that she did. That is something that is being tested at the moment, especially with Bellatrix being back. She always said she would be loyal to her family, but this was a little too far. It is something she is really struggling with, and she finds that she really doesn’t have anyone to talk too about it.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY

The one thing striking from her childhood was the need to always be perfect. The Black sisters had to be perfect in every sense of the manner. It was a tough childhood, one filled with distant parents that never seemed to be quite happy enough. Narcissa was lucky in the sense that she was the baby of the three, but even then, she wasn’t a boy, and so her father would always be disappointed. Along with the need to be perfect, became the need to be pure. The law of being pure was pressed into her from a young age, and breaking that law became something that the young girl would become terrified.

The only decent thing really was her sisters. The three Black sisters formed a bond like no other, and Bellatrix and Andromeda were big factors in making her happy. Having her sisters love made the disappointment her parents expressed a little more tolerable. Everything would be okay as long as she had her sisters.

But then suddenly she didn’t have Andromeda, and it felt like her world was collapsing around her. The net suddenly got tighter then, and Narcissa probably couldn’t have left even if she had wanted too. Narcissa was just lucky that she was soon an adult, and could at least escape her parents house. They might have still had some influence on her, but she had a bit more freedom then.

Growing up in the Black family was hard. She always had to be perfect, and she always had to be pure. But the love she got and expressed for her sisters helped to shape Narcissa into who she became, and for that she couldn’t regret, or want to change anything that she had gone through.

HISTORY

To be honest, just before the end of the war her life was pretty terrible. The death eaters were running out of her house, and she felt like her life was being dictated. This wasn’t what she signed up for when she married Lucius, and she hated it. She hated not feeling comfortable, or happy in her own home. Tensions were high, and the only reason she survived was because of her family. It was tense with Lucius too, but he and Draco kept her going. She had to keep them safe, and that gave her a purpose.

Before then, before the dark lord had returned, her life has been pretty great. She got to do basically whatever she wanted, and it made her happy. Sure, she should have been upset that they hadnt won the first war. But, she was just happy that she got to live the life she wanted. She brewed her potions, and she had her family close. Family was the most important thing to her, and she was just glad that they were safe. The world might mistrust them, but they were safe, and for that she would be forever grateful.

The second wizarding world was hard for Narcissa. She shared the view points of the death eaters, but it took her husband away from her. First, at night, when he went on tasks for the dark lord, and then completely when he was sent to Azkaban. It was only her loyalty, and her love of her family, that kept her in that manor. Her love for Lucius was tested, but her marriage vows never faltered. For better, for worse.

She was a Black and a Malfoy, and so, at Lucius’ side was where she stayed. If that was the right choice….. only time would tell.

OOC EXPLORATION

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO?

Narcissa has always been one of my favourite characters in the harry potter world. I love being able to really delve into who she is, and what drove her to become who she did. We get so little about her in the books, and so I love basically having a blank slate to work on. It really interests me in being able to play Narcissa, and see who she is as a person. There is so much more to Cissa than just being a mother, and I love the opportunity to explorer this.

This roleplay has such an interesting idea. Not only does it have the post-war to explore, which is so interesting for the the Malfoys. But it also has the fact that people are coming back from the dead. Technically Narcissa is a traitor to both sides, and it’s something that I am really looking forward to exploring! I’m also looking forward to exploring the relationship between Lucius and Narcissa, and seeing how this was shaped and changed by the outcome of the war. Lucissa is my fave HP ship, and this is something that really excites me!

ANYTHING ELSE?

Nothing right now, but i’ll probably set her up an pinterest cause I love creating aesethetics for my charries!

#prioriacceptance #narcissa malfoy

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sakrosanctum-a · 4 years

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HOW I RUN MY BLOG.

SPEED honestly i’m pretty slow !! when i comes to threads. but , when it comes to short things like shitposts , or pure dialogue i’m much quicker. i like to put a lot of thought into the things i write !! bc my partnersssss are amazing and i gotta do it for them. im only working temp jobs atm since i finished uni last year - so i have either , all the time in the world - or zero time. sometimes i’m just not feeling the best , so i do go ghost .

REPLIES i just reply to whatever im vibing w the most , but that doesn’t mean i dont enjoy my other threads. i just tend to hyperfixtate on certain characters for a while (ATM Melone , secco and pucci ) and i struggle w some others. i don’t want to force my replies either - so i take my timeee until im in the zone.

STARTERS I LOVE WRITING STARTERS !! SO so much. i love talking ooc and then writing starters , even if we have many threads. i love unprompted stuff as well ! it’s fun. i’m once again asking u to let me write u staters - like please , dm me and i will do it.

INBOX i love asks !! but i often forget about them sometimes ... bc they are hidden. but i love unprompted stuff. though asks often get like a backseat to threads/drafts bc .. i forget they are there.

SELECTIVITY honestly , im pretty selective - jsut because there’s a lot of drama in this fandom and i dont like to mix w people who are involved in that culture. for a while i was actually scared to add some of my muses , thinking i’d get backlash for them . tbh im just here to write - my gremlin villains and vibe. i’m also .. shy. but if im following uuu back i 1000% want to interact.

WISHLIST i’m once again asking you to ship with me ... I have wishlists for certain characters i should post. i love things that are funny or like domestic , for my la squadra muses. i want to include babyface junior , in like everything bc its so cute. but then i also love things that are a bit darker - for characters like secco , bc tbh i love writing that kind of stuff.

HONEST NOTE i’m super chillll , and i’m just here to have a fun time so there’s never any pressure. but i encourage u to add me on discord and send memes.

tagged by: @clectriclight

#ooc.#thankkkk u for tagging me in this

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bigskydreaming · 5 years

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Can I just say, I am so on board with Duggan showing that when Bobby is really mad, like icy rage kind of chilling mad, all puns intended, like....he is an elemental Terminator jacked up on steroids. He literally just dropped temps so low he smashed through the thick steel hull like he was here to huff and puff and blow their house down, and I personally found it very sexy the way he responded to them trying to kill him by simply making all their trigger fingers snap off from frostbite. What? I’m a very vindictive reader and they deserved it.

And after just ranting the other week about how they needed to just up and let Bobby use his teleportation power all the time without help.....*sobs* here we have him teleporting himself and Bishop across the world just minutes after teleporting himself there in the first place, all without any help or even breaking a sweat. FINALLY!!!!!!!

But that said, on another note, examining this all more seriously:

So, while all of us readers know that Kate’s return is inevitable, as this series has been literally telegraphing this story direction from issue one, with it clearly only being part of her over-all story in this book rather than the end of it.....the characters themselves have no reason to be confident she’ll come back at all, let alone soon, given their concerns about her not being able to interact with Krakoa the way other mutants do.

(Personally, I suspect the reason they’ve paced things the way they have is because Kate’s murder and the mystery of whether or not she can be brought back the same way as everyone else, like...I half suspect that’s going to be among the first things X-Factor deals with, given the premise of that book, and that’s why they’re lining things up for all of this storyline to lead into right around the time X-Factor debuts. But maybe its something else entirely. Who knows. There does seem to be something going on with Lockheed, given the way the last couple of issues have framed focus around him, though I’m completely baffled as to how that could be crucial to this story, but guess we’ll see).

ANYWAY, so we know Kate’s coming back, and likely pretty soon, but the characters don’t know that, not for sure. And when you consider that Bobby, as well as being one of Kate’s really good friends and even dated her in the past, has a kind of unique perspective here....it makes total sense for him to be the one that just goes stone-cold killer here. (Again, pun absolutely intended. Look its me. Its Bobby. Read the room. I’m gonna be doing this a lot here).

Of course, he doesn’t actually kill anyone, as Bishop’s there to remind him to cool it in time, but he is merciless in his own way, and calculated and deliberate. So again...one of Kate’s dearest friends, no doubt feels guilty for being away with Christian while Kate was murdered instead of with her and protecting her......and one other element:

Bobby’s one of the few mutants that already was facing the prospect of immortality before they came up with the resurrection process. Its been an underlying source of angst for him for a long time, and IMO the true cornerstone of why he’s so often been resistant to exploring his powers and examining the implications of them, and what they suggest about his future:

See, more than anything, Bobby fears being alone. He loves people, he loves the people who are dearest to him, he craves normalcy in the sense of things that are familiar and comfortable to him....and his powers are antagonistic to all of that. Because the many times they’ve proven able to bring him back from the brink of death without him even consciously using them, and the glimpses of futures where centuries from now he’s still around as this jaded, bitter ice wizard or elemental being.....force him to constantly be aware of the potential and even likelihood that he is going to VASTLY outlive pretty much every single person he’s ever loved and ever will love.

People often note Bobby’s tendency to be drawn to various villains or antiheroes, describing this as him having a thing for the bad boys (and girls, before his coming out)....but there’s never really been any sign of the usual hero/bad guy narrative with most of these. He doesn’t actually ever ‘try and change them’ or really think he can, and there’s never anything that suggests that he like, finds their ‘dark side’ itself appealing, nor does being around them make him act more uninhibited or less altruistic or anything, at least not to any strong degree I don’t think.

But IMO, the focus on the bad guy attraction is only one way to go with that. I’ve always noticed there’s another common element that can be found in the more unexpected people Bobby tends to be drawn to:

And that’s the fact that from Mystique to Daken to the occasional cosmic being or god.....they all tend to be people who have the potential to live as long or longer than Bobby himself. People he doesn’t have to worry as much about losing, if he were to fall in love with them.

So consider that Bobby has for so long consciously and subconsciously limited himself and his own development, avoided touching on or examining the many times and things that have foreshadowed his own longevity....because he’s afraid to face it, afraid to even contemplate the idea of there coming a time when most if not all of his closest friends and loved ones are all dead and gone, and he’s still here, still alive, because his powers kinda ensure he’s always among the last standing.

And then along comes Krakoa and all its changes and bounty, and the resurrection process which is almost too good to be believed, a gift for all mutantkind that offers the potential for longevity, even immortality for all of them....

Overnight, everything changed, not just for mutantkind as a whole, but for Bobby himself. Because the resurrection process doesn’t actually offer him anything he really needs HIMSELF. Its not likely he’ll ever need to use it, or that it would even work on him at all (since Bobby’s powers have fairly recently evolved to make him extremely hard for psychics to read, especially when in his ice form, but also even while flesh and blood....so its not a given that Xavier even COULD ‘back up’ his consciousness in Cerebro as easily or as frequently as he does other mutants).

So the resurrection process doesn’t change much for Bobby himself....but its existence and ramifications....they changed EVERYTHING for him. All of a sudden, everything he’s dreaded and feared about his future, everything that’s been underlying his fear and even hatred of his own powers at times.....just like that, its no longer relevant. Everything looks different to him now. The future is no longer something to avoid imagining whenever possible, its something to look FORWARD to......because now he can picture still having his friends and loved ones with him, far from now. He can PLAN for things, he can WISH for things. He can finally start to embrace his powers and thus himself, his full self, without fear of it taking him further and further away from everyone his own immortality has always threatened to leave behind. (I find it very interesting that its NOW of all times that Bobby finally unlocks his teleportation ability, for instance).

But just as Bobby’s started to finally be less cautious with his powers and his relationships, started to just...live, without being constantly afraid and waiting for the day his loved ones start to leave him for good....just when he begins to wrap his mind around that hopeful future.....

Kate, one of the people most important to him, dies.....and all of them are terrified she’s an exception to the new status quo, and resurrection won’t work on her.

So yeah. Bobby lost it this issue. Cold Snap was a particularly fitting title, and if ever there was a moment to showcase how dangerous the widespread death of X-Men and various of Bobby’s loved ones could be for the world and the future....it was this one. Because while I say “Bobby lost it” and you could see Bishop fearing that was exactly the case....I don’t think that means that Bobby was out of control, rather than just he lost sight or willingness to throw up barriers between his most vengeful impulses and reasons to hold himself back. I fully believe everything Bobby did this issue was willful and calculated....he knew exactly what he was doing, and he’s not remotely sorry for any of it, because they took away one of the people he can’t bear to lose JUST as he was starting to get used to the idea that now he might not ever have to actually lose them.

So. Iceberg dead ahead, indeed.

Below the cut: More about the specific ways Bobby and Bishop’s powers work almost exactly opposite, and what that implies for how vulnerable Kate’s true murderer Sebastian Shaw is to the specific friend of hers who appears to have taken point on avenging her death.

Also, me getting rambly again about Bobby’s ultimate potential as the Phoenix/Jean’s true thematic opposite - the inevitable heat death of the universe - and why their fire and ice dichotomy was never a coincidence when the two of them in specific were made the original omega mutants.

Also also, more puns. Because can’t stop won’t stop and they’re necessary. I have a mandate, back off.

So. It was also particularly fitting that Bishop was disturbed by what Bobby was doing because I mean.....again, this isn’t OOC for Bobby, its just he very very VERY rarely gets like this because he IS so aware of how destructive he can actually be and isn’t fully comfortable being a walking force of nature in human/twink form. He signed up to be a disaster gay, not a natural disaster gay. Okay enough with the puns. POINT BEING.....add to that the fact that Bishop, of all the X-Men, has always been the most conscious of the threats they could each be if unchecked, given his original focus on ferreting out who the X-Men traitor was that was destined to lead to the team’s early deaths.

Which means, although it comes up VERY rarely, Bishop has always kept in mind that despite how formidable he himself is, the precise nature of their powers makes him one of the people LEAST suited to deal with the possibility of an out-of-control Bobby Drake on a rampage.....because Bishop’s power is to absorb energy, any kind of energy, and turn it into something he can use offensively himself.

Problem is, despite how often Bobby’s depicted shooting ‘ice beams’....he doesn’t project any kind of energy at all. Its the exact opposite. Bobby’s power at its core is basically a middle finger to the laws of thermodynamics. Cold isn’t an energy after all, its just the absence of heat.....which in turn is really just energy produced by the frenetic kinetic motion of molecules.

Bobby doesn’t project energy, he takes it away. And not even by absorbing it himself, its more he just....makes it go bye-bye. Through some process nobody truly understands, least of all him, but there’s no transfer of energy from one source to another when he uses his powers. Its more that all that kinetic energy in the area he’s focusing on, no matter how small or large it is, the molecular activity responsible for the production of any amount of energy at all.....just....stops.

Again, its why I’ve always said that despite how he’s usually depicted compared to her, Bobby truly is the most ideal thematic opposite to Jean and the Phoenix Force, and its why it was a perfect choice to make him the other original omega mutant, alongside her.

After all, Jean as the Phoenix was always shown as a force of fire and light...and her ultimate potential/destiny was usually written as the reincarnation/resurrection force....essentially, the Phoenix is meant to be the spark that reignites creation, that begins everything again, once destroyed.

Bobby, in contrast, isn’t just the Iceman.....his ultimate potential and destiny could just as easily be described as the natural and NECESSARY counterpart to the Phoenix Force....the inevitable Heat Death of the Universe.

Since, much like global warming, the heat death of the universe is a somewhat misleading title. Because of the emphasis it puts on heat, most people hear it and tend to think of the end of the universe being an explosive thing, one last blaze of glory. But in actuality, another name for the heat death of the universe is The Big Chill or The Big Freeze. The whole theory behind it is that the ultimate fate of the universe is that it will someday reach a point where there is no untapped thermodynamic free energy LEFT to power entropic cycles.

And as entropy is the natural state of the universe....no more entropy means no more universe. It doesn’t imply that the universe would be destroyed or explode, implode, cease to exist....its more that everything would just....stop. Not because it dropped to some specific temperature or anything, but simply because.....there’s no more molecular movement happening. Nothing in motion....and without that molecular motion to PRODUCE energy that in turn powers all the other natural forces/states of being in the universe....nothing can ever happen again, from that point on, basically....

At least not without an outside catalyst, an external force acting to restart, reignite molecular activity, a self-contained power source that could funnel enough external free energy back into the machinery to jumpstart it again....a fuel source for essentially...a Big Bang, an explosion so big that it produces so much free energy that everything starts up again, in whatever new configuration it all settles into in the wake of that primordial explosion. And thus, a universe is born anew, like a phoenix from the ashes, etc, etc.

Anyway, got off on a tangent there, as I am wont to do, but in the vein of my fondness for usually super nice characters who are actually super dangerous if you go about pissing them off in just the right ways, and who could absolutely be the most villainous villains to end all villains if not for their willful and constant choosing of GOOD over self-service and prioritizing their own wants and needs over that of innocents.....

Well, in actuality, the goofy, eternal frat boy, pun-loving, deliberately and consciously immature ‘little brother’ of the X-Men, Bobby Drake....he’s not just an ice sculptor and snow cone maker, for all that he mostly uses his powers just for that stuff, by CHOICE. Because nobody’s more conscious than he that when he really puts his mind to it, there is literally not a more ideal killing machine in the entire Marvel Universe than Bobby himself.

Like, Thanos? Fuck that guy. Thanos would have Bobby-envy if he ever pulled his head out of his own ass long enough to notice someone other than himself.

Plenty of other mutants, superhumans and even cosmic beings are extremely dangerous killers in all kinds of ways, capable of enormous destruction.

None of them are more suited to one specific part of the Celestial endgame than Bobby himself:

He’s the end result of the attempts to engineer a new generation of cosmic beings that could be the architects of a whole new universe, just as they were the architects of the current one.

But in order for a new universe to someday begin, the current one has to someday end.

And the X-Men’s goofy gay twink is the one being noted by Marvel’s current roster of cosmic beings, as being the potential killer of universes needed to make that part of the eternal universal cycle happen.

The guy who one day, thousands or millions or even billions of years from now, in whatever form he exists in by then...

(since omega mutants were originally described as evolution incarnate, those mutants who are constantly evolving themselves even as they live, so that there is no upper limit to how their powers can grow, change, adapt, mutate, with a by-product of this being they all at some point evolve some way of transcending the limitations of physical bodies and mortality).....

....could just snap his fingers and make everything, all energy, all motion, all molecular activity, just.....stop.

Anyway! Obviously, most of that is just hypothetical and conjecture even within universe, and a long way from ever happening in-universe, if at all, and Bobby for all his power now is still nowhere near that point.

BUT....the reason I brought up Bishop’s disturbed reaction at the start of all this, and noted how Bishop himself is uniquely unsuited to dealing with the Iceman on a rampage....

Is that there’s one specific character whose powers work an awful lot like Bishop’s....which means he shares that specific vulnerability to Bobby in particular.

With that being...Sebastian Shaw, the man ultimately responsible for what happened to Kate, the one who actually killed her and set all of this in motion.

Because just as Bishop absorbs all forms of energy and reprocesses it into offensive energy blasts he fires back on his attackers....Sebastian Shaw absorbs all kinetic energy and converts it into superhuman strength. Making him an almost unstoppable tank, as pretty much everyone’s attempt to fight him only makes him stronger, while doing no actual harm to him.

Except...enter Bobby. Who doesn’t need to hit Sebastian to hurt him. Doesn’t need to feed him any energy he can use at all. All he needs to do, is take all the heat in Sebastian away, and he can shatter him into a million pieces, just like he did all those mercenaries’ trigger fingers.

And when people find out Sebastian’s part in all this, he’s going to run, no doubt. He’ll probably slip off the island before anyone can manage to get their hands on him, and he’s got so many resources and connections of his own, he can easily flee to any part of the world without needing gate access, and buy his own private army to defend him.

But when you look at how Bobby was this issue, how relentless and implacable, and how little he cared or even acknowledged any of the armed men before him as any kind of threat at all....

Its very easy to remember that as long as he stays in his ice form, Bobby doesn’t need to eat or drink or sleep or ever stop. Period. And as shown in this issue, he can now teleport across the globe in an instant. There’s pretty much nowhere he can’t reach on his own now.

Like I said. An elemental Terminator jacked up on steroids. There’s nowhere Shaw can go that he can’t follow. No obstacle Shaw can throw up in his path that Bobby can’t shatter and just walk through without slowing. No amount of mercenaries Shaw could hire, that could actually pose any kind of threat to Bobby. And absolutely nothing Sebastian or his own mutant power could do to protect him from the specific advantage Bobby’s own abilities give him in any kind of direct confrontation between them.

In summation.....Bobby Drake, killer of universes, might be billions of years away from reality, if ever.

But even right now, at this point in time.....he’s already evolved into nature’s perfect Sebastian Shaw killing machine.

And I think after this issue, that’s particularly relevant.

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portbayrp · 4 years

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ABOUT THE CHARACTER.

★ ━ ( alisha boe, cis-female, she/her ) ━ ★ just to be clear, ya didn’t get this information from me. The person you’re lookin’ for is LAUREL JANE WALKER (NEÉ MATLIND).. also known as LJ. Last I heard she was born on JUNE 29TH, 1995 in BALTIMORE, MARYLAND, but she’s been livin’ in RICHMOND, for about FIVE YEARS. Word around the districts is, this doll, LJ can be ALOOF, IMPATIENT, & QUICK-TEMPERED, but i gotta tell, ya, alls I seen is good things, like the fact that she’s LOYAL, SELF-SUFFICIENT, & RESOURCEFUL. I guess that depends on how well ya know ‘em, though. the last thing ya need to know is that she works as an ASSISTANT MANAGER @ CROSSROADS MUSIC & BOOKS. I don’t know much about what that’s all about but I do know that’s all I can tell ya the rest you gotta find out on ya, own. ━ ( ooc: lia, pst, 23, she/her )

BIOGRAPHICALLY SPEAKING…

growing up she was exposed to;

White picket fences and a two-story house in the suburbs with trees crowning the roads like an archway. A picture-perfect life! They had a personal chef because both parents were too busy working to cook dinner, but they thought it would be better for the family to eat around the table as if it would make the meal more intimate. Serious conversations to build any semblance of shallow-less connections were absent.

all about the family & their relationships;

Laurel’s parents had always been involved. Maybe a little too involved in the wrong way and not involved in the ways that mattered. In today’s world, they would be considered helicopter parents the way they hounded her about grades and making sure to get accepted to John Hopkins University on a scholarship to study pre-med. Yes, of course, they wanted her to be a doctor! Much like both of her parents are. Her mother, a neurosurgeon, and her father, a physical therapist. Not to mention they always compared Laurel to her older sister, Mikayla, who studied at John Hopkins pre-med and then got into Harvard Medical School. The pressure to be perfect had built so much that she was a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. It wasn’t until a major life decision caused a rift so large that she hasn’t spoken to her parents in over five years.

the road to portland starts with;

LJ had a secret boyfriend in high school who she kept from her family for the reason that romance is a mere distraction from what really mattered: her education. Which in some regard, yes, is correct but at the expense of her own daughter’s happiness and sanity it was a little too much. The day after graduation, without care nor regard to her parents’ concern, Laurel and her boyfriend (along with a couple of witnesses), young and in love and full of hormones and adrenaline, escaped the masses and traveled across the country to the Oregon Coast to elope as they read it was one of the most beautiful places to host a secret wedding.

Breaking the news to her parents went less than stellar as they berated her over the phone and cut her out of their will and trust. Laurel told her it was love and it was real and that it was more than a puppy, high school romance. Her boyfriend believed differently. A month into their so-called marriage, he packed up his belongings from their small studio apartment in Portland and left without so much a letter.

Heartbroken, and feeling stupid, it took Laurel a year to get over this betrayal, and even as she begged to come home her parents were having none of it. During that year, since she could no longer afford the apartment on her own, she got a part-time job at Crossroads and took a few temp positions just to make rent. As time progressed, she really made a name for herself at the music store, getting to know the locals, finding her ‘spots’. She had her favorite coffee shop, her favorite bar, favorite clothing boutique… Portland, despite the sadness that came in the beginning, became her home. LJ is now out here living her best life, although she misses her parents and wished they’d pick up the phone when she called. Not to mention, she hopes that her husband… who, yes, is still legally her husband, will come back.

her occupational perspective;

For the most part, Laurel does enjoy working at Crossroads but it doesn’t pay the bills. On the side, she’s an independent esthetician… without a license. But what she charges isn’t as much as licensed cosmetologists and estheticians do so she does have clients. She has to get charged under the table for the reason that what she’s doing isn’t exactly legal.

#pb: resident: laurel walker #character: female #age: 20s #residence: richmond #alisha boe fc #bio

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chwrpg · 5 years

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Murray, I have asked you repeatedly not to call me "woman".

A NOTE FROM ADMIN R: Oh, oh, oh ! Y’all don’t know how happy I am to be accepting this application. Dylan is truly one of my CHW faves and to have her taken up by you, Cailin... that’s just an honor. I can not wait to see what you do with her, but I know one thing... this dash ain’t ready fro the looks Dylan is about to serve us. Thank you so much for applying and welcome back, love !

OOC NAME/ALIAS, PREFERRED PRONOUNS, AGE & TIMEZONE:

cailin, (she/her), 25, est

DESIRED CHARACTER:

queen mother, dylan davenport

HOW ACTIVE WILL YOU BE?

8-10

SECONDARY CHOICE:

taylor flick

DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER:

Dylan is shrouded in beauty, bold fashion choices, witty comebacks, and her daddy’s debit card. But the woman wearing the Amina Muaddi heels to 7/11 is much more interesting than her out of this world clothes. If Chanel’s head is in the clouds, Dylan’s feet are planted on the ground. She’s the fuel to the fire, the one who gets shit done. Things don’t move without her — and that includes the fashion scene in Rosewood. Dylan could’ve been a surgeon, she has the brains and attention to detail for it, but, you see, what Dylan says or doesn’t say goes. She predicted high waist jeans making a comeback before Vogue did, telling the girls one day during first period. So she’s a bit of a culture oracle. It’s why people care about what she’s thinking, who she’s endorsing, what designers she’s buying. They even want to know what she’s watching on a monday night. Her confidence and sincerity is inspiring. When she’s not taste making though, she’s the loyalest, most straightforward friend you can find in her tax bracket. Balancing the thin line between being no-nonsense and fun to be around. She does it well, though. In fact, she does most things well (driving not included.)‌ Her peers boast about her style and charisma, her professors brag about her work ethic and creativity, her boyfriend….well, her love life is a tumultuous roller coaster but every icon needs a fixer upper. Plus she gets diamonds every time he fumbles.

SAMPLE WRITING:

( Alexa, play Daddy )

The day Dylan was born she became a daddy’s girl. Stevie Wonder could see it. Dada was her first word much to her mother’s chagrin. He never raised his voice at her, never got impatient with her when she spilled her juice or threw her food. He got up in the middle of the night so his wife wouldn’t have to even though he had meetings at 7 in the morning. It didn’t stop there, though. Mr. Davenport didn’t put her down at parties. He carried her around on his hip as he mingled and held court, demanding on no one use baby talk for his brilliant baby girl. “She’s smart like her mom.” He would say to his captivated audience. For her third birthday he rented out an entire amusement park. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t yet tall enough to ride the rides, she had asked for it so he made it happen. He was a doer and a fixer, but he wasn’t perfect. Mr. Davenport had always been a better father and provider than a husband.

So, when she was five, her parents went through a nasty divorce. The papers their lawyers drew up cited irreconcilable differences but she’d come to realize, many years later, that was just how rich people skirted around the truth in hopes of keeping people out of their business. In truth, Mr. Davenport had spent the better part of his career sleeping with secretaries, temps, and clients. Basically anything that was of age and not nailed down. Mrs. Davenport had only grown tired of it after watching Halle Berry cry over Eric Benet on Oprah. But like she’d taught Dylan, Mrs. Davenport thought three steps ahead, and had arranged to have a cheating clause in their prenup. She saw the board before she’d even stepped foot on it. And, Sure, they’d been in love when they got married at twenty three, but a cheater never changed its spots, just his lies. In an instant, she got half of everything. Twenty percent of his future earnings, and 360 lipo for a girls trip to Maui to celebrate her emancipation.

All Dylan got out of the deal was two houses, two birthdays, two Christmases, two cars she still couldn’t drive when she turned sixteen. The court awarded them joint custody, ruling they both had enough sense to figure out the schedule on their own. But since that was the year her mom went back to school for her PhD, Dylan spent the majority of her time with her dad and a nanny. Those double holidays also served as a good distraction from the heartbreak she couldn’t explain. Though she was sharp as a whip and actually funny, not laugh because it’s a kid funny, but really funny, she still couldn’t wrap her little mind around why her parents drove to separate houses at the end of the night now. At all those parties, what stuck out the most was everyone saying what a handsome couple they were, how lucky they were to have another. They danced and laughed. They seemed so happy. But looks are deceiving and lucky for her, the loneliest year of her young life was also the year she met her best friend.

( Alexa, play Wannabe )

Dylan and Chanel became an instant package deal, and she thanked her father for not being able to keep his dick out of seedy holes because she wouldn’t have went to school in another district if her mom hadn’t won the house in the divorce, and she wouldn’t have sat down next to Chanel at show and tell, and they wouldn’t have bonded over their pretty dresses, or shared their organic apple juice. God worked in mysterious ways like that. She had a partner for life, and nothing came between them. Not even boys. And, despite having the power to date any eligible bachelor in her grade, she really liked one in particular.

The day she brought Paxton home her took one look at him and chuckled. Dylan figured it was because of the grill he hadn’t learned to talk without slurring with yet, but her mother had other ideas. “He reminds me of your father.” She said, long after he’d gone home, but not before Dylan spent fifteen minutes walking him to his car. The driveway was super long but her lipstick was nonexistent when she returned. That didn’t matter though, because Dylan knew what that meant. Her mom thought Paxton was charming, likable, handsome — but she also knew he was a liar and a dog. They argued for well over an hour, and she said some things she regretted but that’s what teenage girls did, they rebelled against becoming their mother all while doing so. She didn’t realize just how much he was like her father until she caught him DMing other girls on instagram and got a diamond necklace out of the deal. Still, it was clear that he could shoot a man in broad daylight and she would always be daddy’s little girl, nothing could change that.

“Daddy!” Dylan whined, clinging to her dad’s arm as they traipsed through another commercial property with their real estate agent. Today was the day she was finally going to buck up and switch locations from her dad’s pool house to an office space in scenic, downtown Rosewood. Being interviewed by magazines had been life changing, sitting front row of the hottest runways next to A-listers had its perks, doing a skincare routine video for vogue was dope, but expanding her business because the calls wouldn’t stop coming in to be styled be Dylan and her associates? That was something she’d done herself from the ground up. She’d started with styling her friends and now she was going to style the world.

( Alexa, play Successful )

Her heels were tall enough to greet God but she still only reached his shoulder. “I hope this one has vaulted ceilings.” Her tone was way past passive aggressive. She would’ve dialed it back had their agent not been set to make serious bank off of this, but had only been showing them office spaces with disgusting lighting and rude doormen. For all of their sakes, she hoped this one was better. “I need two sessions of hot yoga after the last mess you showed us, at least. My chakras are all out of wack now. Thanks a lot, A.” She was being dramatic but her dad didn’t stop her. He just smiled that infamous smile at the agent and excused himself to the back of the elevator to take a call. Dylan rolled her eyes when she caught their real estate agent, Angela, fawning. She was a slender woman with the proportion of a fashion model who only modeled in theory, never practice. With cropped hair and full lips. She’d been their families real estate agent for decades, found the house her mom had one in the divorce, but Dylan couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d slept with her dad while he was married to her mom, and for that she hated her.

The light dinged to signal they were at their floor, and the elevator doors slid open. When she bothered lifting them from a lengthy text she was typing to her beau, her eyes lit up like when her dad gifted her a patek for her eighteenth, or the G-Wagon that was still collecting dust in the garage for her sixteenth. Whatever the occasion was, she was aglow just like then. The floors were European oak, all the walls were white sans a charcoal accent wall that would be the space of her future desk, and yes, the ceilings were vaulted with windows to match. It was beyond.

“Daddy!” She squealed, running around the space and dreaming up renovation ideas. “This is the one. It’s, like, perfect.” Dylan ignored the real estate agent when she repeated the price tag. 1.2 million may have been a lot for some people, but some people weren’t his little girl and Angela should have known that by now. “Wait. I need to call Chanel!”‌ Dylan could bet she’d be calling Chanel the day Play got down on one knee ( What?‌ A girl could dream ) before she even said yes. She was greeted with a selfie when she unlocked her phone, tapping her chanel platform sneaker clad foot against the wood while the facetime call connected, “What do you think about staining the floor another color?” She asked before absolutely beaming when Chanel’s face appeared on the screen.

“I found it! I found the perfect space.”‌ Without another word, she flipped the camera and did a little dance when Chanel’s excitement nearly exceeded hers. She knew a squeal of absolute glee when she heard one, “I know! Ok, so Just imagine a chaise here, we can install some shelves here. Do you think we can get a Prosecco fountain?…” She walked her through the office like Angela had done moments before, moving out of earshot so her dad could handle business, while they discussed all the possibilities. “Today an office with a view, tomorrow Dylan Davenport’s Fashion Academy,” she beamed.

All her daddy had to do was sign on the dotted line, and she knew he would. He was, after all, her doer. He wouldn’t dare break that illusion…right? The journey from the bathroom back to the main area of the office space was a short one, and she was all smiles until she rounded the corner only for her dream to turn into a nightmare. Her face cracked along with the screen of her phone as it hit the ground and shattered, “DADDY!” She screamed. The sight of her dad and Angela kissing over paperwork causing her to gag instantly.

“Honey, let me explain…..”

There was nothing to explain. Horrible step parents was Jasper’s lane, not hers.

( Alexa, play Ring Off )

ANYTHING ELSE?

1985.

#accepted #submission

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calliecat93 · 5 years

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I think my biggest issue with how Grif was done in S17 is... well, there’s no resolution for him in this saga. A saga that allowed him to develop. I’ve said that before, but what do I mean by that? Well... look at how S16 ended. It ended in Grif learning his lesson, accepting (even if reluctantly) that shit he doesn't like is gonna happen and he’s gonna have to deal with it one way or another, and beginning to do more and at the end he rejects Genkins trying to temp him.

But n the end, it resulted in i failure. Genkins successfully distracted hm. He was too late to stop the others form saving Wash. Time broke. While it isn’t at all Grif’s fault... even for him, someone as lazy and apathetic as him... that should be a bigger deal for him. I mean... look at how the other seasons went.

In any season where Church is the protagonist (Recollection, Freelancer, arguably S13) his character developed and he ended off in a better place. Maybe S9 is the exception, but he DID learn to let Tex go so it was still positive even if not int he emotional sense.

In S10, Carolina was able to get over her quest for revenge against the Director. Not because she forgives him, but she realized how it would do nothing and that she needed to move forward with her life. Not let the shadows of the past haunt her. She’s still had to face those demons later, but we always see her push through it and come out a better person with S17 especially solidifying it.

In Chorus, Tucker learned to be a better leader, fighter, and each season ended with him better than he was. Yes, even S11. There was a sense of triumph for him and how far he had come that not even S13′s finale could negate.

In S17 and to a lesser degree 16, Donut rose up over all the insults and proved just how good of a character, leader, and fighter that he could be. He’s been a joke for years, but he still triumphed in the end.

Grif’s season? He learned his lesson... and failed. With S17 not at all demonstrating any emotions or thoughs form him regarding it and while he is doing the job with minimal complaint, we don’t see how the events affect him or his growth whatsoever. It feels like Jason just... forgot about it. Which is bizarre since he wrote on that season. Hell, he wrote the episode where Grif stuck with the idea despite clearly being reluctant and lost Huggins’ friendship as a result. But there’s... nothing to show for it. That point goes completely unresolved which sucks for Grif, and even moreso for Huggins who gets dropped without warning after. All the other characters I listed had something to show and their stories progressed even after their limelight days were over. Why wasn’t Grif allowed to do the same? I assume it was the episode count, but it’s... frustraitng.

That’s why I feel like Grif was poorly handled. Not because he was OOC, he wasn’t. Not because of the backstory retcon, which I was personally fine with but some’s mileage may very. No, my issue is how it lacks consistency. It ignores Grif’s development. It ignores Grif’s feelings. It ignores all that potential character stuff that, in a saga that allowed said character development to begin with, makes it utterly frustrating. Again, I get it. They got 12 episodes. Something was gonna have to be sacrificed, and Grif was less important at that point that DOnut, Wash, and Carolina. Maybe there was a plan, ut they had to drop it because time sucks. I do truly and honestly understand, and I am seriously hoping that S18 will offer something and we can just say that with all the shit going down, Grif hadn’t fully processed everything until it was over. Which I can believe.

But still, every time I rewatch the saga, I notice that lack of continuation with Grif’s character. I can’t say if they made the right or wrong decision, and I don’t think ti ruins S17 personally. It just sucks because my favorite character was FINALLY getting the development that I had wanted to see... and it got brushed aside. I mean Grif’s first thought when he sees Genkins isn’t about the paradox or Genkins tricking him... but about him ruining pizza. Which he was over by the time he figured that out. I know it was a brief joke that didn’t ruin anything, but the more I look back over it, the more it feels like they just outright forgot Grif’s development. IDT it’s intentional cause again, episode count, but it just frustrates me the more and more I got back over it. Hopefully, 18 can offer something to make up for it, because this character arc is still unresolved. That’s unfair to the character and to the story and I want to see a resolution to it.

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neoblogcrying · 5 years

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“Let’s Play a Game” pt.5

Here is the next part! This will be up on AO3 as well very soon! There is a poll this time!

By now, Shen Yuan should be better, don’t you think?

Who is to say? Maybe his system moderator decided to troll him for a while longer.

Oh—that guy’s pretty sadistic, huh? The way he subtracts points… he’s a demon.

Stop that, hurry and start the next segment. The System-Temp is waiting.

Sorry~! Let’s get this show on the road!

As usual, the system moderators were conversing with each other before they resumed the gameplay. The System temp was always at their mercy to wait for the game to continue to see what would come of the story after their choice (if they made one).

Beep!

“You’re showing improvement.” Shen Jiu commented offhandedly.

“Of course, I’ve been rigorously taught after all...” Shen Yuan sighed, recalling the times Shen Jiu would task him to fixing his hair and being scolded over how he wasn’t ‘doing it right’. It wasn’t as though Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan would always be there for each other, especially when one was playing the Shen Qingqiu role, so it was imperative to be able to fix their appearance on their own should anything happen.

Shen Jiu was much more particular about his appearance than Shen Yuan was, so he was perfectly able to fix his appearance at any time it was needed. Shen Yuan, however… was not that as skilled. In fact, most of the times, Shen Jiu would style his hair for him.

The reason being that Shen Yuan would argue that Shen Jiu did it best, and he wasn’t good at it. Why don’t you show your younger brother how to do it properly? What a wonderful and caring older brother, you are! So talented!

The elder of the two twins was no idiot, so he knew what Shen Yuan was planning, but he still gave into the praise when he was in a good mood. This was not the case for when he was in a bad mood, as was the case for today.

Shen Jiu was in a foul mood this morning, so he forced Shen Yuan to style his own hair, and he was tasked to style Shen Jiu’s hair as well.

With one fluid movement, Shen Jiu reproachfully smacked Shen Yuan’s hand. “Is that a complaint? You should be able to do this on your own if you truly wish to play the part as Shen Qingqiu. If you refuse, then stay here like a sheltered Princess.”

It didn’t hurt, but Shen Yuan did reel his hand backwards, mentally pouting. He’d upset his brother who was only looking out for him, with his small remark. He understood that his brother was very sensitive to certain things, especially anything that may connote that he was an ill-intended person.

While Shen Yuan couldn’t say that Shen Jiu was a ‘kind person’ by the strictest of terms, he wouldn’t say that he’s scum either. He was a very complex individual who was likely to lash out due to his heavy emotional baggage.

“No complaints here, brother. Why don’t you check my work?” Shen Yuan stepped aside and sat next to his brother, smoothing out the wrinkles that appeared on his clothing as he sat down.

His hair was in order, his clothes were neat, and his facial expression was unmoving. He was the definition of an immortal cultivator.

He waited anxiously as his brother beside him moved. He rested his fan on his lap before he reached for his hair, gently feeling for any disorder. Shen Yuan had done a good job, it seemed. It felt exactly as it should, as though he’d styled his hair himself.

Most of his hair, aside from a few strands that framed his face, was pulled back into a half-ponytail, that was then adorned with an ornate hair crown. The hair that would otherwise get in his face was pulled up, while the rest was allowed to flow freely.

“You did good.” He offered only 3 words of praise for Shen Yuan, but that was more than enough for the younger man. Shen Jiu felt a slight tug on the corner of his sleeve. A quick glance out his peripheral vision revealed Shen Yuan breaking out of character to gaze at him expectantly.

He couldn’t understand it, but Shen Yuan seemed to crave attention, and he practically idolized Shen Jiu. What reason was there to idolize a trash-like human whose potential was stifled, he didn’t know. Perhaps this is what it was like to be an elder sibling.

Lightly, he pat Shen Yuan’s shoulder twice before he retracted his hand towards himself.

Shen Yuan’s facial expression lit up with joy as his brother understood his body language. Praise him in another way other than with words!

Yes, it was great to be praised by your brother, but more so than that… he was conditioning his brother! Get used to praising people! Maybe you’ll slip and praise Luo Binghe by accident! Get yourself some points, bro!

The fate of their future rests on your ability to treat the protagonist better!

He seemed to puff out his chest with pride, “I’ve secretly been practicing on my own. Haven’t I done well? Don’t you think I can do my hair properly?” Meaning, they no longer need to practice together like this in the morning, right?

These bonding moments between brothers were nice and all, but it was really nerve-wrecking to have Shen Jiu staring at him like a hawk, waiting to strike with his fan should he make a mistake!

“Prove to me you can do it yourself 9 more times.”

Spartan, he’s a Spartan!

Of course, there was no way that Shen Jiu would let him off so easily. This was the reputation of Shen Qingqiu they were talking about after all.

“I’ll be sure to make you proud, brother.” No matter what adversities he faced, Shen Qingqiu never jumped off the ride otherwise known as ‘life.’ You could say he was as tenacious as a weed. He was ambitious, working hard to better himself, much different from how Shen Yuan was on Earth.

Maybe it was pity, but Shen Yuan truly wanted to support Shen Jiu. He had a new found appreciation for Shen Jiu because he happened to witness some of his past, and this appreciation soon turned into respect.

If you asked him, he’d say that he truly respected Shen Jiu and looked up to him. There was something about an underdog that made Shen Yuan want to support them and look up to their tenacity.

While he didn’t agree with how malicious Shen Jiu could be, it wasn’t as though he couldn’t understand. The most he could do is try to do damage control for his brother, and to help him learn better social skills.

If forcing himself to act a certain way to promote positive growth, he’ll do just that. He’s a pro at acting at this point, so what’s wrong with doing a little bit more? Though things were different, he still thought of everyone in the world as simple characters in a book.

All because the time was reversed, his thought process reversed as well in this regard.

“You’ll be late.” Shen Jiu reminded his brother.

It never ceased to amaze him how Shen Yuan could be so expressive, but the moment he had to step out as ‘Shen Qingqiu,’ he’d wipe every emotion off his face. His kind personality would be replaced by one that is standoffish.

With a flick of the wrist, ‘Shen Qingqiu’ covered the bottom half of his face with his fan. It was easier to look as though you were looking down on the rest of the world by utilizing a fan to cover your facial expressions.

He slid the door open and stepped out, leaving his brother behind. Shen Jiu could rest and study to his heart’s content.

“Shizun, good morning!” Disciples would greet him as he passed them by. He walked down the hallway without responding to them, as that’s what Shen Qingqiu would do. “Shizun~ Good morning!”

“Good morning.” Of course, he’d respond if one of the female disciples greeted him. It was well known to all that Shen Qingqiu had a soft spot to the female disciples.

The sun was out, and a gentle breeze tickled the face. It was a lovely day to be out, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been out like this. Shen Qingqiu was in a good mood, even if his facial expression didn’t convey this.

With the premise that he was patrolling the area to see if anything was amiss, he walked around aimlessly around Qing Jing Peak.

It’s been so long since he’d been out, he wanted to get a good look at everything to familiarize himself with his surroundings again.

Every pebble that crunched into the ground when he stepped on it, the scent of fresh air surrounding him, and the sounds of the young disciples diligently training themselves… it felt so new to him.

Shen Qingqiu wondered how his brother was faring at this time, was he relaxing? Did he bury his face into books or scrolls as he studied?

It certainly felt weird playing the role of Shen Qingqiu after being cooped up in their room for so long, he’d almost felt like Rapunzel or something.

He’d walked a full lap around the premises to see that almost nothing was amiss. Everything was in good order, and the disciples were diligently working hard… but there was something missing.

Where was the protagonist of this story? No, a few other disciples were missing if his memory was anything to go by.

Feet stopped as a foreboding sense of uneased settled over his heart. There was a 90% chance that the disciples were bullying Luo Binghe at this very given moment. He wanted to save him, but—

[System: Warning, that thought is dangerous. Even if the disciples know there are two people playing the Shen Qingqiu role, you must stick to character. It’s imperative no one can tell the difference between the two Shen Brother’s playing their role. OOC function has not been lifted, so please continue to play your role.]

What would Shen Qingqiu do at this point in time? Would he ignore the fact that disciples are missing to do something else, or would he go to join in tormenting Luo Binghe?

Shen Qingqiu was leaning towards the ‘Brother wouldn’t even notice people are missing and he’d do something else.’ It was one thing if one of the female disciples were missing, but a male one? Why would he care for that?

If Luo Binghe was missing, he’d prefer that, so the appropriate answer here would be to ignore the fact he’s noticed some of the male disciples (including the protagonist) were missing.

Now that he thought about it, someone else was missing, wasn’t she? If Luo Binghe wasn’t around, there usually meant that a certain someone would be with him—causing him more troubles.

Ning Yingying, couldn’t you please learn to use your brain and NOT cause Luo Binghe to be hated even more than he already is by his elder disciple brothers? Shen Qingqiu couldn’t help but lament over how one of Luo Binghe’s wives had this special skill of causing him trouble.

“Shizun, come help!” A bright voice called out to him with a loud voice.

He knew exactly what was happening here, Luo Binghe was being bullied and Ning Yingying had ran off to retrieve Shen Qingqiu to alleviate the situation. What she didn’t know was that Shen Qingqiu would follow her, tell her to leave (to get bandages or something), and then bully Luo Binghe as well the moment she ran off.

Honestly? Shen Qingqiu felt so depressed by this matter. Why was it that one of Luo Binghe’s main wives was so… so… SO STUPID?

If anything, this was the perfect chance to use to see what Luo Binghe was up to. It’s been so long since he’d seen the protagonist, and he was curious to know how much he’d grown! Also, he really wanted to know just how much damage his brother had caused.

Don’t you think he needs to know what he’s dealing with if he plans on hugging the golden thighs of the protagonist?

“Lead the way.” He spoke with the uninterested and lofty tone that everyone was used to, and of course, Ning Yingying was none the wiser about the switch. She immediately started leading the way towards the bamboo forest.

For sure, the other disciples had to be bullying Luo Binghe by fussing with him and forcing all the errands onto him.

With every twist and turn on the path, he followed Ning Yingying at a leisurely pace, a bit too slow for her liking. “Shizun, hurry! A-Luo is in danger!” She tried to appeal to his concern for his disciples (did Shen Qingqiu have any?) to make him walk faster.

If not for the System blaring warnings at him, he would have overtaken Ning Yingying and came to Luo Binghe’s rescue already! Alas, he has to stick to his role and walk slowly with an uncaring attitude.

Ning Yingying truly had to be grateful to him that he was even taking the time to follow her into the bamboo forest. Who cared for that ‘brat,’ anyways? Such a detestable fellow!

Sorry.

Truly Sorry, Luo Binghe. He doesn’t mean it, honest! He’s spouting all these lies mentally because he has to get into the mindset of the incorrigible Shen Qingqiu! He wanted to cry with every insult he had to tack onto his favorite protagonist.

It was hard to notice for anyone that wasn’t Shen Qingqiu, but he did hasten his steps by another step, and he rebuffed the system by excusing his action by wanting to keep Ning Yingying’s good opinion of him.

If there was one thing that he knew, it was that Shen Qingqiu was lenient towards the female disciples, and he’d never want for them to have a negative opinion of him. He was very oddly vain about his image, especially when it came from a woman’s perspective.

“A-Luo! It’s going to be okay now! I’ve brought Shizun!”

There was a 100% chance that her words just shattered his heart. Shen Qingqiu was willing to bet on it. Stepping in next to Ning Yingying, he could see that the elder disciples were holding Luo Binghe down. A rusty axe laid on the ground, and another disciple froze mid-action, allowing the water from the bucket to slowly spill onto Luo Binghe’s head.

With the arrival of Shen Qingqiu, his imposing appearance caused all to stop and stare at him, with the exception of Luo Binghe, whose face was made to ‘eat dirt’ as they say. Even if he was free to look, he wouldn’t want to lock eyes with Shen Qingqiu’s chilly, reticent eyes.

Leave it to these canon fodders to not show any leniency. Shen Qingqiu mentally sighed at how they were splendidly signing themselves up to dying horrible deaths like they were given in the novel.

Even if there was a major change to the plot (the Shen Twins), everything else was following the novel’s progression to a T.

“Please, Shizun, make them stop!” Ning Yingying begged with tears in her eyes. Why do you look like you’re watching your lover standing at gunpoint? He won’t die, he’s the protagonist!

Still, now that he’s here, he has to do something, right?

DING!

You guessed right, it’s time for another plot changing question event! Surely you can guess what the subject matter of this question is going to be? What do you think Shen Qingqiu will do?

More like, what will you have him do? Just to let you know, the System Moderator in charge of overseeing Shen Qingqiu does not know that you are in charge of controlling Shen Qingqiu’s actions.

Yeah, that System Moderator is in a different department than us, so we haven’t let them know. Therefore, you need to be careful about what you choose, or things can get tricky!

Without a further ado… let’s get to the next question!

[What will Shen Qingqiu do in this situation?]

Walk away! Let them deal with it on their own!

Save the protagonist!

Be neutral and punish them all!

Tell Yingying to go away and unleash the ‘Shizun TM’

[Previous Segment] [Table of Contents] [Next Segment]

#Scum Villain #Neo Writes Drabbles #SVSSSLifeSimProject

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gnminjae-blog · 6 years

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hi friends ! happy opening day to gaenari ♡ i’m so excited to see the directly finally open ahhh thank you admods for all your hard work ! i’m nik, and my boy here is ryu minjae, a nineteen year old gaenari local. he’s currently a second year at daehan private university, majoring in computer science and engineering. ooc, he’s part of the from ghoulies and ghosts subplot, so that should probably tell you what he’s into ! you can read more about him here, but i’ll drop some info about him under the cut to help with plotting as well. speaking of, if you’d like to plot, please smash that LIKE button and i’ll hop into your ims ! i also have a twitter available if you’d prefer to plot there !!

LET’S HAVE A GREAT TIME HERE TOGETHER ♡

born and raised in gaenari ! his family’s presence in this town actually stretches back generations. they trace their line back to one of the original mining families of the region

fittingly, they live in the yellow creek neighborhood, on haesam street. the ryu household is a multi-generational one; minjae lives there with his parents and his paternal grandparents

his parents are both teachers ( his dad teaches at taegu tech and his mom teaches at gaenari public school ) and his grandparents were well regarded public figures before retirement so they’re fairly well known around town

minjae attended gaenari public school for about a year before transferring to east view preparatory school. he’s always been a smart and hardworking kid so not many people were surprised when he got admission into daehan private university ( even if his family didn’t exactly approve )

was a small, shy kid with a stutter and oversized glasses who spent way too much time studying on his own. had a few friends but primarily just kept to himself during school hours and holed up in his room at home

it was really no surprise that he got bullied a lot as a kid, from elementary school right up until his final year year of high school. it was a lot more obvious/known when he was younger, and by late middle school he got good at making people think nothing was wrong but... something was

it caused him to retreat into games !! pokemon especially, but he took anything that could help him escape from his life and let him be someone else for a while, a hero who people liked !! it grew into a life-long obsession and now he’s a huge gaming fanatic

is super grateful in a way because he met his closegoodfriends through their mutual love of all kinds of games so like, everything that happened wasn’t totally bad in the end. his major is sort of inspired by his love of games as well since he eventually wants to make one of his own for other kids like him

his parents buy him a lot of video games and systems and stuff as a substitute for actual affection of any kind, though he worked at all for you temp services throughout high school to finance his hobby

he actually collects a lot of retro video games/gaming systems to take them apart and study them or reprogram them... it’s a big hobby and he spends a lot of money on it now but it’s genuinely relaxing too

ANYWAYS , a super sweet kid, kind of shy and passive, completely non-confrontational, often lost in his own world. he comes off as kind of stand-offish and cold to most people but he’s just soft inside. he usually just talks to his group of tight friends but he really wants to approach & befriend more people too !! he’s just shy/nervous about rejection

he takes the train to daehan every morning and usually spends the entire day there except for weekends... really doesn’t like being at home so you can find him loitering around campus

also wanders around town whenever he can playing pokemon go. he has control over most of the gys in town ( except for the one at eun factory ) and is super proud of it because pokemon is his shit

HE’S JUST REALLY A GOOD KID PLEASE LOVE HIM

#( * out of coins )#( i forgot to do this earlier but )#( slams in here )#( ily )

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vieuxnoyesrp · 7 years

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⚜ One year since the inception of Vieux Noyés RP! ⚜

In honor of a year of creativity, inspiration, and much, much love, we’d like to share with you a glimpse at how much VN has meant to us in the past year. Where we were then, and how far we’ve come, all thanks to you. ♥

- Rose -

To me, VN is the definition of a labour of love. First, it was a love of these characters and a desire to see them explored in a more intimate and, in my opinion, authentic way. To see them develop to their full potential without the hindrance of time, commercial appeal or tv budgets. At the same time it was a love of collaboration with the two beautiful and incredibly talented women I have at my side; Kailey and Rimsha. They were the ones who inspired me to pursue this idea, who told me that I could, even when I doubted it. Without them; without Kailey’s enthusiastic push and overconfidence in me, without Rimsha’s affectionate cheerleading, VN may very well not have happened.

It wasn’t always smooth sailing though; VN came with a lot of hard work (both collaborative and independent), endless brainstorming sessions, and the occasional heated passionate debate - just to keep things interesting. Throughout easy days and not-so-easy days, we’ve stuck it out as a team. I have so much trust and respect for these ladies that I could go on for pages. But suffice it to say, given the chance to do it all again, I couldn’t and wouldn’t have chosen a more trusted team by my side.

Last but not least, VN to me, became a deep fondness and love for the roleplayers we’ve been fortunate enough to attract. Every day I read the dash and am awed to have such extraordinary talent in our group. I check into the OOC after a long day at work - and it feels like coming home. You support one another, laugh together, and pick each other up on the rough days. This, to me, is undoubtedly the best thing about VN. And I am so humbled and so grateful to each and every one of you for joining and bolstering this dream.

A year ago, I was coming out of a difficult period in my life. I had recently lost my grandmother, I was struggling with a job I disliked, and I was studying for take-two of the MCAT/medical school entry exam (0/10 would not recommend, would not do again). I was down on my self-esteem, uncertain of my future, and kept joking about how I’d hit a ’Quarter Life Crisis’. A year since, and I’m in a much happier place; accepted into medical school, content with the present and yet looking forward to the future. So many of you have helped support me through this process and encouraged me through the crappy days. Thank you. Thanks so much to each and every one of you for making the dream a reality and joining us on this wild ride! Here’s to many more anniversaries to come! Laissez les bons temps rouler! ♥ ⚜

Also if you read all this you’re a champ. You go, Glen Coco

- Rimsha -

It’s hard to believe that we’ve come full circle. I remember well how and when the idea of VN was conceived. A brilliant idea that bloomed in Rose’s mind and one for which she had a lot of devotion and determination to see it realized. Like Rose, I too was going through a bit of a rough patch in life at the time -- turmoil on the career and Academic front, even within my family unit. Once VN had taken flight, it had fueled me to spend time plotting, planning, tinkering and helping bring it to life. A place that would house our muses for the supernatural, TO, and TVD character portrayals. But boy has it turned out to be so much more than that. I think it's safe to say that it's has exceeded our expectations, and then some.

It has been an honour being on the admin team of this roleplay, an honour to meet and interact with such a talented roster of writers who’ve brought so much enthusiasm. The part that particularly makes me proud is that we've been able to build a community, nay, a family. It's an environment where everyone truly shares ideas, moments, and most importantly supports one another. I cannot count the amount of times we’ve practically gushed on our admin chat about how it makes our hearts swell to see all of your reaching out to one another. I love how literally everyone has taken to the "no one gets left behind " mentality that we advocated from the very beginning. Thank you so much guys for all that you do, and please keep up that stellar streak. You’ve played an immense role in helping VN come this far.

Unlike my two kick-ass admins, this was my first shot at admining. But I can definitely say that I’ve learned a whole lot from them over the course of this year. I think both Kailey and Rose deserve a hell of a lot of credit for all the time and effort they’ve put into this roleplay, for remaining so determined, for being there to restore my own drive, and also for being a bottomless pool of inspiration. To you both, I just wanna say, thank you for including me in your vision, for guiding me, and showing me the ropes. I’m honoured to work along side the two of you. And cannot wait to hatch more great plans with you.

But while we’ve come this far, this is still only the beginning. So here’s to making many more memories. Stay awesome VN Fam! <3

- Kailey -

It’s hard for me to think back to this time last year, to remember what a different person I was, how different my life was from where I am now. A year ago, I was finishing off my first year of grad school, the year I thought would for sure be the hardest year of my life wrong. My baby, my dream, Lifelines RP, had died, and with it, it had felt like I had lost all of my creative movement. Any desire to write had been drained from me in a lethal combination of literary grief and end-of-term papers. And then came VN.

I’ve been known for being a bit overenthusiastic when I’ve got a plot rolling through my mind, and the minute the idea of VN was put before me, well I have to admit I was relentless, obsessed, inspired. I maybe bullied Rose into believing she could do this, and I don’t regret it for a single moment. Between the three of us, with Rose’s unending patience and passion, Rimsha’s incredible talent for world-building, and my dogged bites at their heels, VN was born. VN became beautiful, right in front of our eyes. We were so nervous, to tell you guys the truth. There was so much we could, and did, get wrong on the way here. But we stuck it out, and then, came you.

We had hoped that our OOC would be a comfortable place, where people felt free to chat and share about themselves, where they felt like they had friends to talk to. But this? You guys have blown us away. You’ve opened your hearts to us, and you’ve jumped full-throttle onto our crazy train, and taken us places we had never even hoped we could go. VN’s become my life, my hobby, my work, my pride. My supervisor wants to join, guys. I kid you not. VN’s become my second family, something I had no idea how much I would need this year.

I haven’t been around as often as I’d like to be, but I’m with you all every day, marveling in the beauty of the space and the stories we share. A year ago, Rose lost her grandmother, and we didn’t have VN yet. With how devastated she was, I wasn’t sure we’d ever write together again. In its infinite cruelty, I’m on my way home tomorrow, to (hopefully) see my grandpa one more time before he passes. I’m not okay, to be honest, but I know I’ll have my family, both of them, with me the whole time. I can’t tell you how much you all mean to me, and how closely I carry you to my heart each and every single day.

With love from our hearts to yours, may we write many more stories together, your admins ♥

⚜ Laissez les bons temps rouler! ⚜

#VNTalks #VNAdmin #active rp #lsrp #literate rp

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