#they have friends and interests and they’re all alive none of them ever die | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heliads · 9 hours

Note

Can you do Peter Pan x reader OUAT? Peter goes to the modern world with Emma, Snow, David and them as they are looking for someone. He meets this girl and takes an interest to her. He’s never seen someone with facial piercings, and dyed hair before, they come to realize she is the girl they’ve been looking for.

'magic finds magic' - peter pan

masterlist

Peter Pan is leaving Neverland. Worse, he’s leaving Neverland alongside Snow, Emma, David, and Hook. In terms of traveling partners, this has got to be the lowest of the low. However, the sand in Peter’s immortal hourglass is running out, and his first attempt at prolonging his life with the heart of Henry Mills didn’t exactly go according to plan. It’s this or nothing, even though Peter is starting to wonder if it would be better to just die than put up with these people any longer.

Never in his life did Peter Pan think he’d be working with the good guys. But never in his life did Peter think he’d be dying, either. A few compromises will have to be made in the name of preserving Peter’s everlasting life, and if that means he has to put up with some princesses and pirates for a few days, so be it. In no time at all, his immortal life will be restored, and he can go back to Neverland and put all of this behind him. Hopefully.

Peter was supposed to die back on Neverland. He was running out of time, anyway. He had set up the perfect scheme: kidnap Henry, disorient the boy’s rescuers on his island long enough to win the Heart of the Truest Believer, and cut the organ out of the boy’s chest if necessary. He’d almost gotten away with it, too, except he was foiled at the last minute. Heartbreaking. So unlike him.

For some reason, though, he hadn’t been left to die in the caverns of Skull Rock. Emma and the others had needed him, for some odd reason, and although none of them trust him in the slightest, they do trust Peter’s single-minded selfishness to keep himself alive. So they claim, at least, and so they had gotten a spell to give Peter one more week of life in exchange for help. If this plan works out, Peter will have a way to continue his immortal life without needing to murder Henry. If it doesn’t, or if he betrays them, he’ll die anyway.

He can feel it now, the pang of his close call with death. There’s a pain in his chest that wasn’t there before, a certain weakness in his lungs. Peter gets tired more easily. He feels– well, he feels like Henry and Emma. He feels mortal. Like he could die at any moment.

Peter has, obviously, thought about double-crossing them, maybe even triple-crossing them, but it’s no use. He feels shakily mortal right now, and Peter does not much enjoy the possibility of his own demise. This is the closest he’s ever come to being beaten, and Peter hates the feeling. He’ll have to play along for now, but after that, he will have his revenge.

First, though, Peter has to do what the others want. They’ve been careful to reveal as few details to him as possible, but the idea is solid. There’s a magical person somewhere in the modern world, in a city far from Storybrooke. This person is like the embodiment of a true love’s kiss spell, designed to renew hope in storybook characters through small acts of power that ultimately drive two needed people together. They’re like a guardian angel of those on the brink of destruction, which is exactly what Peter needs right now.

Peter has plenty of time to mull this over. They’ve forced him into a terrible, small room with awful carpets– an apartment, Emma called it– while they talk out what to do with both him and their missing spell-person. Peter is trying to focus, but he’s getting stared at by Henry Mills again, which is absolutely ruining his mood.

“What do you want?” Peter asks, glaring at the boy.

Henry just goggles back at him. “Don’t you feel bad for trying to kill me?”

Peter snorts. “Why would I do that?”

Henry shrugs. “You pretended you were my friend. I know you like the other Lost Boys on your island, I thought you would have felt bad for killing one of them. I guess not.”

“I don’t feel bad about killing someone so I would live,” Peter says, then wonders why he’s arguing with a child. “Go preach your morals to someone who wants to listen.”

“The others are busy,” Henry pouts.

Peter eyes him unhappily. “And what, I’m your best option for polite conversation? You really are desperate, aren’t you?”

Henry rolls his eyes. “I’d say you’re desperate. You’re the one who’s still talking to me.”

Peter can’t really argue with that, so he deftly changes the topic of conversation before Henry starts looking proud of himself again. “Tell me about our target again. You said you saw them before?”

“Only in a dream,” Henry admits, “but it was a clear dream, I swear. I saw a girl who looked about your age. She seemed like any other teenager, but there was something about her that was different. The way she spoke, maybe, or the glint in her eyes. She was magical, I’m sure of it. She can save Storybrooke.”

“And save me,” Peter reminds him. “That’s the important part.”

Henry rolls his eyes again. If he keeps that up, they’re going to get stuck like that forever. “Yes, I know, you’re only interested in keeping yourself alive. So long as it helps us find this girl, though, I don’t care.”

Peter leans forward. “What’s your plan for finding this girl, then? A little scouting party? This city is big. You’ll never find her.”

Henry shakes his head. “Magic has a way of finding magic. Somehow, our paths will cross.”

“That’s a terrible strategy,” Peter grouses. Why is he entrusting his life to this boy again? He remembers something about having no other options, but it doesn’t seem as good an excuse right now.

“Ask the adults, then,” Henry tells him, and gestures towards the miniscule apartment kitchen, where Emma, Snow, Hook, and David are currently huddled around a table, talking in hushed voices about what to do.

Not wanting to mess with the kid anymore, Peter pulls himself to his feet and heads over. “Tell me you have a plan,” he says.

The adults look up at him. “Find the girl,” Hook says shortly. “That’s our plan.”

Peter scoffs. “You could search this city for months and not find her. What if she doesn’t want to be found? If this girl has any brains at all, she’ll know that people will want her magic and she’ll hide. It’s what I would do.”

Emma sighs. “We don’t even know if this girl knows that she has magic. She’s probably just living an ordinary life, and we’re about to drag her out of it with all of our trouble.”

“Don’t tell me you feel bad for her,” Peter scolds her. “You want this, don’t you? So go get it, or I will.”

Snow tries to tell him to calm down, but David, so quick to anger when it comes to Peter, surges out of his chair. “How about you do something helpful and think with us instead of just insulting us?”

“I will do something helpful,” Peter informs him. “I’ll find her first.”

With that, he lunges for the apartment door, and is out of the tiny room and down the hall before they can stop him. Peter hears the thunder of footsteps after him, but he hurries down the stairs and out of the building. He has the advantage of being quick on his feet; if Neverland taught him anything, it’s how to run when you don’t want to be found.

Peter emerges into the bright sunshine of the city and stops dead in his tracks. He’s not used to the modern world, how the knives of its buildings slash up into the sky, how loud it is with those cars and signs and people. Peter swears he can even see metal things in the sky, soaring along predestined paths. It’s all so much compared to the world he used to know. No wonder some of the others had a hard time adjusting. His mortal heart lets out a pang of sympathy.

The door of the apartment building flies open, revealing Emma and the others hot on his trail. Peter curses under his breath and takes off in one direction, hurtling around pedestrians and shooting down the sidewalk. He heads for smaller streets, hoping to lose them in a swarm of alleyways. The others, more used to the terrain of the modern city, are gaining on him, and Peter is just starting to think that he’ll never be able to shake them when someone grabs him and pulls him into a nearby building.

Peter’s first instinct is to defend himself, but when he isn’t attacked, he realizes that the stranger is only trying to help him. There’s a window just to his left, and Peter watches Emma and the others appear seconds after him. They didn’t see him enter the shop, and keep sprinting down the road in the direction they thought he’d gone. Peter waits a few more intense moments, then decides that he’s lost them for good and turns back around to see who’s gone to the trouble of rescuing him.

He’s greeted with the sight of a girl about his age. She’s eyeing him cautiously, although the corners of her lips begin to prick up with a wicked grin. “Sorry for the rough introduction, but you looked like you needed some help,” she tells him.

Peter lets out a short laugh. “I’m glad to be rid of them, that’s for sure.”

The girl arches a brow. “What, did they catch you shoplifting? I’ve never seen people run that fast unless they were getting chased by the cops.”

Peter narrows his eyes, trying to figure out how on earth he would lift a shop, then decides it’s probably some slang term he doesn’t know. “Something like that,” he says evasively.

He studies the girl’s face to see if he’d answered correctly, and, judging by her impressed grin, he had. “Nice,” she says. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Peter,” he replies. He gets the urge to introduce himself as he usually would– Peter, Peter Pan– then remembers at the last second that Emma had warned him about telling people who he was. Apparently, telling people he was a fictional character in their world wouldn’t go over too well.

“Peter,” the girl repeats. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Peter says, and realizes belatedly that he means it. He feels like how he had at the start of it all, when the Lost Boys had first started appearing on this island, but this feeling is far stronger. He wants to get to know this girl. He certainly doesn’t want her to leave.

“I’m new to the city,” he says abruptly. “Any chance you could show me around?”

Y/N laughs, surprised. “You’re new and you’re already in trouble? You’ll fit right in, Peter.”

He grins, in on the joke a half beat late. “I like to have fun, that’s all.”

“Well,” Y/N says, starting to lead him back towards the door of the shop, “I like fun, too. Maybe we should stick together.”

“I’d like that,” Peter says, then wonders why he’s being so honest all of a sudden. When he sees Y/N’s smile– real this time, not sarcastic or joking, but genuinely because of him– he thinks he knows why.

The two of them step back out into the light. “Where to first?” Peter asks.

“I was going to ask you that,” Y/N replies. “What do you want to do? Sightseeing, maybe? We can get some food, or just talk.”

“Anything,” he says. He’d follow her anywhere. The feeling in him right now is like nothing he’s ever felt before. The pain in his chest, Peter realizes with some surprise, is gone. He feels immortal. Like living in this one moment could last forever.

They end up spending the next few hours together. Y/N shows him around the city, taking Peter to her favorite spots. Peter stares at the vast cityscape and finally starts to understand why someone might choose the modern world over the natural one. He’ll always pick Neverland first, of course, but seeing the world through Y/N’s eyes, it makes sense.

The two of them get along like a house on fire. Y/N’s got this rebellious streak to her that fits in perfectly with Peter’s, well, Peter-ness. No joke is too dark, no sarcastic comment too caustic. They feel the same. Peter doesn’t think he’s ever met someone who thinks so much like him.

As the sun starts to set in the sky, Peter feels his spirits sinking. He doesn’t want to let go of this day, not when he knows it can never happen again. He’s supposed to be finding Henry’s spell-girl, but all Peter wants to do is spend more time with Y/N.

His mood is especially ruined when they turn a corner and find Henry Mills walking towards them. Peter’s eyes widen and he tries to steer Y/N back in the direction they’d come, but it’s too late. Henry lets out an audible gasp and starts hurrying towards them.

“Peter,” Henry calls out when he’s close enough to talk, “We’ve been looking for you all over! Where have you been?”

Y/N glances at Henry dubiously. “Who’s this?”

“My little brother,” Peter blurts out.

At the same time, Henry chimes in, “My friend from school.”

Peter shoots the younger boy a quick glare, then turns back to Y/N. “Both, actually. He’s my step-brother. Recent marriage. We’re still getting acclimated. Our family is a little chaotic.”

“You can say that again,” Henry mumbles. Peter fights the urge to butcher him.

While Peter silently advises himself on why murder would be bad at a time like this, Henry stares openly at Y/N. All of a sudden, the boy’s mouth hangs open. “Oh my gosh, it’s you.”

Y/N’s brow furrows. “Excuse me?”

All of a sudden, Peter feels a sick sensation in his stomach. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t.

“You’re the girl from my dream,” Henry announces. “We’ve been looking for you.”

Y/N looks back at Peter. “What’s he talking about?”

The open, carefree expression, which had been on her face all day, is starting to be replaced with deep, unsettled fear. Peter hates to see it directed at him. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he begins. “Something about yourself.”

“You’re sounding a little creepy right now,” Y/N warns him. “Get to the point.”

“Alright,” Peter says. “You’re magical. So am I. We need your help to break a curse and save my life. How about that?”

Y/N shakes her head quickly. “This is crazy. Magic isn’t real.”

Peter can’t lose her, not like this, so he leans forward and holds out his hand. A ball of light appears inside his cupped fingers, glowing and bright. It’s a simple charm, one of the first he learned, but it has the desired effect.

Y/N stares at it, transfixed, and when she speaks again, her voice is hushed. “That’s impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible,” Peter says. “Not magic. Not even the fact that you would find me in this city by accident. Magic is drawn to magic.”

Y/N’s eyes slowly raise to meet his. “This is real, then. I have magic.”

“You have magic,” Peter confirms. “Come with us, we can show you. They’re good people, Y/N. You can trust them.”

It’s the closest he’s ever come to honesty. For once, Peter isn’t playing a game. He isn’t trying to trick Y/N over to his side. He just wants her to be safe, and he knows that isn’t through lies.

Y/N smiles at him. “I trust you, Peter. That’s enough for me.”

She reaches over and takes his hand. Now that he’s focusing on it, Peter can feel the slow loop of her magic when they touch. It feels like power, but more than that, it feels like life. A life with her, maybe. A life for both of them.

ouat tag list: @loveanimals0000, @eclliipsed, @w1shes43, @lost-ender

all tags list: @wordsarelife

14 notes · View notes

acertainmoshke · 1 year

Text

Meet the Author (revised)

My name is Moshke Palmoni. I also plan to publish children’s books under Lior Eisen, but I mainly go by Moshke. I use they/them pronouns and when I’m not writing I love to read, knit, snuggle my weirdo cat, or work on home projects to fix my 100-year-old house that the previous owners made some interesting choices for. I also have a day job that I am very passionate about but will not talk about here because I don’t want to mix my writing with my professional life. None of my projects are published yet but I’m getting there.

Active WIPs

(let me know if you want to be added to any taglists!)

General tag list: @ blind-the-winds

To Die Among the Stars

In the future, 20 people are sent into space on a second test of an FTL drive, aiming for a habitable planet. The first test was a disaster, so this time they’re more careful—the volunteers are only needed for data on how humans fare at faster than light speeds, so they are selected from prisons and “mental wellness centers” and areas where people would agree to a suicide mission for the promise of feeding their families. No one expects them to live, just to provide enough data to improve the next test. Told from 4 POVs: Pixel, a semiverbal black market modder; Ri, who has so many illicit mods embedded in his body he can no longer experience the world the way most people do; Zippy, a young disabled woman desperate to support her family; and Peppermint, a genetic experiment combining human and cat DNA raised in a lab with only a sentient android for company. Despite all expectations, the group bands together for survival.

Taglist: @ hd-literature

A Tangled Knot of Gold

Technically the 3rd Legends of Halara book, but the first one was not cooperating so here we are. Tlapil is the cousin of the heir to the throne, Soter, who is also the only person who treats her like a person because she is semi-verbal with unusual body language and interests. Her main useful skill seems to be mapmaking, but when the kingdom needs unusual solutions she’s ready to help—along with her only other friend, who happens to be a slime. Having proven herself, she holds a respectable position as advisor to her cousin, but when tragedy threatens to tear apart the entire kingdom it might be up to her to find a way to hold it together.

Halaran cultural genders explained here, and non-human genders here. Explanation of the religious system here.

Fae and Brownie

10-year-old Fae Grant is autistic and ataxic and struggles in school, socially and with meeting expectations. Right after she meets the new boy, Brownie, a meltdown leads to a week’s suspension just as her aunt moves in with her family. Fae’s adventures over that week lead her to a new best friend, realizations about accommodating her communication difficulties, and new acceptance of being who she is.

Backburnered WIPs under the cut

Cold Iron

Shakatra Zoawin has been alive for 107 years, but they are only 33 old. They are one of the few Fae changelings able to survive to adulthood in our world—they age slowly, their magic is more powerful than any human sorcerer, and they have a particular knack for glamour. All they’ve ever wanted was to be left alone on the fringes of society with their brother Kris, also a changeling. But now, on top of raising their teenage stepson and the age-frozen human child they replaced, they might be the only one with both the Fae-aligned skills to protect humanity and the remotest inclination to do that.

Time to Kill (working title)

Esther Dahan is part of one of the first teams ever sanctioned to use time travel technology. Against all historical odds, they aren’t cops or soldiers—they’re anthropologists. Her team specializes in Jewish history specifically, and as tough as it is to leave her young daughter behind for long stretches the team is like her family as they get to truly experience what life was once like, always careful not to change anything (the butterfly effect having been disproven, they must still not share too much information or come in contact with major figures). And yet, something is off. In more and more time periods, they find suspicious activity. But they can never quite get enough proof to convince anyone why this matters—why they should believe that these scientists found the first known rogue travelers. It’s not until trying to solve the mystery on their own leads to Esther’s life being torn apart that they’re taken seriously, and even then her team might be the only ones capable of finding out the truth and stopping something even worse.

Falling Petals (working title)

A story of 3 generations of autistic people before any of them would have been diagnosed, loosely based on the life experiences of my family during different times. Also about relationships and imperfect love. Ira Katz was born in 1913, the only child of slightly older Russian Jewish immigrant parents. He grew up in California and lived a fairly normal life, except that he wasn’t normal. He was very charming, but didn’t understand why mean jokes or blunt truths weren’t appreciated. He assumed everyone was as interested in his niche interests as he was and despite loving the beauty in the world and the people around him felt unable to connect with any of them. He would grow up to marry a girl he knew from synagogue named Joy and have 4 children, whom he loved from a distance and teased with a brilliant and oblivious cruelty. He inherited his father’s drug store, which he enjoyed because his scripted charm worked best on strangers.

Ira’s second child, Daniel, born in 1939, was also odd. He was very sensitive for a boy and called annoying for his awkward attempts at friendship. Eventually he channeled his sensory pain and constant overwhelm from tears to anger. He practiced on his own until he spoke like a professional adult, scripting replies that sounded like a real conversation. Adults loved him while other young people shunned him and his brother and father mocked him. He went to college and became an architect because it was more manly than being a librarian like he’d wanted, and while in school he met a high school teacher named Frances, who he married and had twins with. Daniel was determined not to mock his children and to spend time with them, which he did—but he also hid his pain and emotions until they exploded out in uncontrollable anger and struggled to deal with any noise or rule breaking. His drive to be successful managed to drown out everything else and sucked up all his energy.

One of Daniel’s two daughters, Shoshana, born in 1961, was also odd but in an opposite sort of way. Where Daniel had always seemed mature and professional even when unnecessary, Shoshana seemed childlike far longer than her sister. She continued to play with her dolls and make patterns with her marbles after other girls started whispering about boys. She froze up when she didn’t know the right social response and just wouldn’t respond. She broke down in tears when overwhelmed and was terrified of crowds. She felt like an utter failure despite being an avid reader with a good memory. She didn’t go to college or get married. She tried and failed to live on her own in her 20s. She felt unloveable. And then her sister had a child, Naomi, a child Shoshana saw her own life in, and suddenly she wanted to show her little niece how one could be happy and also different and what it actually meant to succeed. Which required her to figure that out herself first and notice her own strengths.

Eachw part is told from their own perspective and with compassion for their experiences. Everyone does the best they can and the goal is to show unhealthy coping mechanisms without denouncing anyone as a villain.

#Moshke writes #Writeblr #writeblr intro

26 notes · View notes

demcnsinmymind · 1 year

Text

most important headcanons/char beats for my blog nav/pinned post and easier understanding

another master post? why?

after working on my blog nav I’ve realized that my blog is filled to the brim with wordvomits upon wordvomits about Lance and my ideas for him, so I figured that next to my very lengthy headcanon masterlist, I’d make another shorter-ish post with the most important bullet points that I consider essential for possible threads and interactions with the boy.

Two most important headcanons

The lore is somewhat canon divergent on my blog. The building was alive and sentient with an agenda just like in canon, but my most important headcanon is that the entity possessing and distorting it has been H.P. L/ovec/raft’s demonic outer god Azathoth instead of just some nameless invisible thing. (see detailed possession lore and azathoth info)

Azathoth is bound to Lance on a physical and emotional level and it’s the only thing keeping him from turning into this - a severely impaired, insane and numb shell. (more here)

- The cut him being trapped in 1948 plotline is canon on my blog and I will die on this hill because it’s so awesome!!!!!!!!!!!! =(

Lance

- Lance is not a villain character. He’s not a hero either. He is a grey character and very flipfloppy. He can be the most loyal and protective friend, but he can also be the most selfish, vain, outright asshole. He’s very complicated, but I cannot stress it enough that he’s not a bad guy. (Best said by Sean (the actor who plays him) in this gifset. See more detailed HC posts about it here or here or here) Read: there is no need for excessive hostility towards him. When Azathoth’s in charge? Totally fair game. But him? Consider him more of a victim, please.

- Pre-canon, he did not believe in the paranormal. He wasn’t an outright denier, but pretty much a skeptic in need of some serious convincing. So even though he’s making an entire show about ghosts and the paranormal, off camera and out of character, he’ll tell others it’s all bullshit and think they’re bullshitting as well if they start talking about it being real, or reveal that they themselves are in fact supernatural. That is pretty much canon (see more here) Read: Pre-canon, he’ll react surprisingly douchy and somewhat naive to anything involving his own genre. However, a part of him wants to believe, so he’ll need little convincing :)

- Lance has Stockholm’s syndrome and is trauma bonded to the building/thing possessing him aka Azathoth. (See more here) Read: There will be questionable reactions on this blog that might sound defensive of the thing/trauma, might even play it down. But that is on purpose. Not me condoning what happened to him. The opposite. He’ll work his way through this and learn sooner or later that it’s bad to defend it. However, be prepared to see him get angry with the helper instead of the abuser at first, which might be perplexing at first. He’ll need a lot of convincing on that front.

- He’s filled to the brim with charisma and fake friendliness and he does have a silver tongue, but he does not have many friends be that before or after canon, pretty much none post canon after losing his team inside Collingwood and losing 13 years to his ordeal. Read: He’s all talk and no bite. Expect a lot of bitter sarcasm and a lot of pushing back. He isn’t used to the idea of people caring about him. He’ll get there.

- I headcanon him to be aromantic. Couple that with his lack of interest in deep and lasting relationships, and you got someone who is very prone to casual hook ups and what not. He has no interest in anything romantic, and neither will he ever pursue the family/marriage life. (See more here) Read: I won’t write romantic plots. Smut and regular booty calls with very tight friendships behind them are more than fair game, I love them. But there won’t be any exclusive monogamous ships here.

- He’s incredibly guarded. I don’t know the right word/explanation for it and “emotionally unavailable” doesn’t quite match how I portray him, but basically one of the most important aspects about my portrayal of him post canon is that it will take a lot to break down his barriers. It’ll take a lot of patience and time until he starts trusting people, and even more of it until he opens up to them and accepts help. This is due to his obvious trauma, not due to toxic masculinity or the fact that he’s incapable of emotions or empathy. He has a whole palette of both, but he keeps that under very tight wraps. (see more here or here or here) Read: He’ll react like an asshole when it gets down to people offering their help and comfort at first. This is not because he is one and wants to hurt anyone, but because he’s very afraid of being vulnerable and getting hurt. But it is a fact that he very much wants help and needs help and that you’ll get him there eventually. It just takes some time and trust. Kind of like a kicked wet cat in an alley.

Azathoth

- Azathoth is an it. Please do not refer to it as “he”. It’s a thing that looks and acts like however it wants to be. It is called the nuclear chaos. It is so beyond our human comprehension and most certainly beyond the idea of genders. Read: Azzy isn’t male. It’s a chaotic wildcard. It won’t ever be refered to as “he” by me and I’d very much appreciate it if you kept that in mind =)

- As stated up above, the most important thing to keep in mind is that Azathoth is like a plug in Lance’s brain. If you pull it, he’s a goner. They both know it. Thus, they’ll react harshly and negatively to any attempts of banishing it from his body. (read more here) Read: Unlike most other depictions of possession in media with the possessed being helpless victims horrified by the ordeal and more than grateful to see their possessor gone, Lance won’t react the same way to the prospect of getting rid of it.

- Azathoth is a demonic outer god that was once exiled beyond time and space. It more or less adheres to some of L/ovecraft’s lore and canon, not to any Supernatural or biblical canon. It has no weaknesses and cannot be exorcised. It can only be bound to other buildings/universes/places beyond time or put back to sleep with ancient flutes. (read more here, also see cool videos like this) Read: Azathoth is an overpowered Mary Sue. Please do not assume it can be put in demon traps or hurt with holy water/hex bags and what not. That’ll just get Lance’s clothes wet and dirty and piss the both of them off. Fear not though, I very very rarely write out its OP powers and am more than happy to piss it off.

- It has a lot of cool powers. Though it technically isn’t canon that it’s what did all the things, whatever is possessing Collingwood did do a lot of cool things. See here. Read: Just me wanting to share my fav gifset hehe

#text post #mobile resource

3 notes · View notes

glendaadams · 2 years

Text

winona ryder, bisexual, female + she/her ― hey look, it’s glenda adams! she's forty-seven years old, she's lived in shrike heights for thirty years, and she's currently working at bloom boutique (manager). i heard she's pretty headstrong, but i think she's so nurturing at the same time. can she make it out alive? || s, twenty-four, she/they, gmt+11, triggers on main.

stats.

full name: glenda jacqueline adams

nickname/s: none - though most commonly known as ms. adams to students.

age: forty-seven

date of birth: july 4

zodiac: cancer

gender: female

pronouns: she/her

sexuality: bisexual

about.

born and raised in denver, that’s where glenda spent her upbringing.

the closure of her father’s workplace saw the family move. family led them to a town near shrike heights, a job opportunity led them to moving to shrike heights officially soon after.

her family has always strived for success, her mother a doctor, her father a lawyer. they worked hard and got ‘respectable’ jobs so that they could live a comfortable lifestyle.

glenda’s four sisters grew up acting equally as respectable, how they presented being important to the family, but glenda always felt like a bit of a black sheep in the family.

she typically tried to behave as well as possible, wanting to please her family who tried to build a good reputation and life for themselves, but she always felt a little rougher around her edges.

glenda got in trouble more than any of her siblings, and was more combative than any of the others, but still, she was loved by her family and she loved them.

her sisters grew up to work in similar fields as their parents, going into accounting, nursing, etc., but glenda couldn’t ever commit herself to something that required that much dedication and smarts.

unlike her sisters, she skipped college at first, working retail jobs after graduation, but she still had the desire to please her family and to fit in so she found what she thought was the easiest yet still ‘respectable’ job she could.

she became a teacher at shrike high in her mid-twenties, and she actually really loved the job. she worked as an english teacher, and here she figured out how much she loved providing for others and caring for them.

she was dedicated to her students, maybe more than she was dedicated to actually teaching them their english or literature work, and even while still being a bit of a black sheep, she was able to remain on good terms with them all by making them proud.

when the attacks started in shrike heights, glenda grew terrified of what might happen - to her students especially. always prone to mental health issues, glenda worried the stress would cause irreparable damage, and she found herself having to leave her job as a teacher - at least for now.

she left teaching hastily, with no backup plan for how she could support herself, and while she’s not too fond of the idea of working in the mall, where most attacks take place, she had to make rent somehow.

wcs.

childhood friends from denver

high school friends / friends from upbringing in shrike

people she didn’t get along with in high school

ex students

younger people (even if they’re not ex students) she cares for when needed

best friend / ride or die

friends so close they’re considered family

bloom coworkers

neighbours past and present

ex friends

love interests past and present (exes on good terms and bad)

her four sisters

affluent friends (maybe family friends) she feels inadequate around

friends far from affluent who she feels more comfortable around

#intr.#shrikeintro

5 notes · View notes

missytearex · 2 years

Text

~~ I’ve been chasing that sweet sweet dopamine this month by reading all these incredible fics. Thanks to the authors - remember to leave them nice comments and kudos if you check out their work! ~~

🐚 This Multiplicity of Powers by @helloamhere --- [fic post]

larry | 149k | explicit

Maybe in another universe he isn’t different. Maybe he hadn’t been given an impossible choice. Maybe he wouldn’t have lost everything and broken everything and then fallen impossibly, irrevocably in love with the first next thing that was kind. Maybe in that universe he doesn’t feel like he’s never breathing, always pretending, teaching the kids even though they all have to learn alone, trying hard not to read the headlines, and so afraid, every day, that he won’t be a good enough teammate to the superhero he can’t live without. He knows that love isn’t supposed to feel this way, slid secret under your skin like a surgical razor, an invisible war held close over the tender vein that keeps you alive. On the other hand, Louis wonders, had he ever known how to do it any other way?

Maybe there’s a universe where he doesn’t have to keep all his secrets on the inside.

But this isn’t that universe.

//an X-Men AU.

🐚 Say Hallelujah, Say Goodnight by @alivingfire --- [fic post]

larry | 110k | explicit

Louis is an angel who is just a little too bad to be good, Harry is a demon who is just a little too good to be bad, and they're both a little too in love to be impartial when angels and demons go to war.

Louis has been alive since life was a mere concept; he watched the summoning of Man into existence, he was there when Eve took the apple. He’s seen seas break the world into separate pieces, he’s watched empires crumble into dust. He’s seen wildfire consume cities, he’s seen the world painted white with snow. He has known the most beautiful humans to walk the planet, he has watched the most powerful mortals gather their riches and influence around them and then die just like the poorest, weakest humans do. He’s met humans whose motives defy explanation, people who use their lives as battering rams, as tools, as weapons, as chess pieces.

None of that stopped Louis in his tracks.

But Harry did.

🐚 For the Right Reasons by @juliusschmidt --- [fic post]

larry | 105k | explicit

Harry doesn’t agree to be the Bachelor expecting to find love. He’s just hoping for an exciting jaunt around the world, half a dozen new friends, and, if he’s lucky, an amazing hj or two.

Louis may have signed up to be a contestant on the Bachelor, but he’s not interested a ring or a proposal, not from Harry, not from anyone. He wouldn’t turn down a few more Instagram followers, though.

🐚 Unveiled by @phd-mama --- [fic post]

larry | 65k | mature

The train grinds to a halt and Harry leans forward in his eagerness to take it all in. It’s a gorgeous Spring day, the sky the same intense blue that he knows from home, which comforts him. There’s much here that looks almost familiar, but then so much that is new and strange to his eyes. The bustling station platform and winding streets beyond paved in cobblestones look much like home. There are vehicles ranging from small to very large, some with strange and unusual shapes of which he can only guess the purpose. But most surprising are the people. There is a crowd gathered, filled with men and women, some in what looks to be a military uniform, some in what must be the street clothes in this Land.

There are no robes. And not a single one of them is veiled.

🐚 It Had To Be You by @kingsofeverything --- [fic post]

larry | 45k | mature

Harry and Louis are strangers who share the long drive from Chicago to NYC after college. They don't have anything in common, don't get along, and at the end of their trip, they're both glad to say goodbye.

During a chance meeting five years later, they find that nothing has changed, and they part ways expecting never to see each other again.

Ten years after their post-college road trip, Louis and Harry meet once again, but this time they become friends. Eventually, things get complicated.

A When Harry Met Sally AU.

🐚 there now, steady love (so few come and don't go) by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed --- [fic post]

larry | 42k | mature

It becomes just another fact of life. The sky is blue. The grass is green. Louis sees when people are about to die.

🐚 Fate & Chance by @zanniscaramouche --- [fic post]

larry | 31k | mature

Haunted by his own ghost, the Duke von Tomlin fears for his safety and sanity as the days tick down to his certain engagement with the Crown Prince of Vienna. Meanwhile the travelling magician Hassenheim takes residency in a well established theatre, drawing mass crowds with his awe-inspiring illusions. Is it fate or chance that entwines their paths?

🐚 When the Sun Won't Let You Sleep by @allwaswell16 --- [fic post]

larry | 30k | explicit

Four years ago, Louis Tomlinson left the UK to live on an Antarctic research station for reasons best left in the past. He’s carved out a life for himself on the ice and has dedicated himself to his research, his friends, and especially the Halley VI research station. He’s less than thrilled when he learns that Harry Styles, a glaciologist from another base who once broke his heart, will be coming to Halley, and he’s definitely unprepared for the upheaval Harry brings with him.

🐚 Hold Tight by @uhoh-but-yeah-alright --- [fic post]

larry | 29k | explicit

Louis’ new home comes with a garage, a garden, and a dream man next door. The only thing standing in the way of their happily ever after is his neighbour’s stubborn insistence that his vintage motorbike continue to rust away rather than let Louis get it back into driving shape.

Louis can only hope his plan to repair it behind Harry’s back will repair the rift it's created between them, too.

🐚 On Christmas Day (In The Morning) by @lululawrence --- [fic post]

larry | 26k | not rated

Louis was on his way to get his weekly fancy coffee and pastries for breakfast when he once again came upon the piano.

It was finally a day off, and Louis was not going to chance missing the piano again. Not when luck would have him passing it three times in less than two weeks. He was clearly meant to have the piano.

Louis sat himself down on the bench and immediately sputtered a laugh. The largest sign yet, it was a ripped piece of cardboard and on it in all caps were the words, “HAUNTED PIANO! FREE!”

“How exactly do they know the piano is haunted?” Louis asked with a chuckle.

Or an advent fic following Louis and his adventures with a free piano and the ghost that comes with it.

🐚 Sunflower: Vol. 1 by @ourownstrings --- [fic post]

larry | 26k | mature

“Real farmers love mornings.” Louis hated that sentiment. But then he wasn’t a real farmer. He just got stuck in the family business and drags himself to the farmers market where he put on his best sunny sales pitch. That is until he meets the new flower vendor. The flower boy who is even wearing floral-patterned clothes as he sells bouquets. Suddenly, Saturday mornings are the highlight of his week.

🐚 we're still the kings of the Friday nights by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed --- [fic post]

zouis | 22k | teen and up

He’s been his best friend for as long as Louis can remember. It’s like he’s always been there, those hazel eyes present even in his earliest memories. Louis has trouble remembering a time before he grew accustomed to his smile, tentative when they first met, but then wide, a grin that had the ability to take over his entire face, exuding a joy that was so infectious that Louis just wanted to be close to him.

He’d felt drawn to him from the start, two boys that were so different but that had found themselves meeting in the middle time and time again, accepting each other for who they were even when the world seemed unwilling to. Even when Louis was too flamboyant and Zayn was too exotic, when Louis was loud and Zayn would be so quiet that people labeled him shy.

Zayn’s been everything, for so long now. His moral compass, his partner in crime, his ride or die.

And as of tonight, the first boy Louis has ever kissed.

🐚 Single Bells Ring by @absoloutenonsense --- [fic post]

larry | 16k | mature

A holiday singles event is not where Louis wants to be tonight, but there he is, helping his best friend find love. Just as Louis is settling in, ready to have a terrible time, he meets the fittest alpha he’s ever come across.

🐚 Blind Date by @ladyaj-13 --- [fic post]

ot5 | 13k | general audiences

Louis Tomlinson, model and aspiring actor, has been chosen to appear on Blind Date. The only problem is, all the contestants are wonderful. And so is the host. It's making things difficult.

🐚 The Dreamers by @bluecolouredlou, @quelsentiment --- [fic post]

zouis | 11k | teen and up

Bored with his own life, Zayn decides on a whim to sign up for a dreamsharing study. After weeks of the experiment not working, he's starting to lose hope. One night, however, he finally connects with a stranger on the other side of the building and his whole world gets turned around.

🐚 Far Afield by @becomeawendybird --- [fic post]

larry | 11k | teen and up

Harry Styles is a witch who owns the best flower shop in Manchester. Lottie Tomlinson is planning her wedding, and brings her brother along to her first appointment. Both men have been having a bad day and sparks fly.

🐚 Slow Hands (Slow Days) by @londonfoginacup --- [fic post]

larry | 9k | teen and up

Louis Tomlinson is the new vet hired on at Payne Veterinary Practice, in the middle of the Yorkshire countryside with nothing but rolling hills and farms for miles.

Harry Styles is a resident farmer, with pigs and sheep and beautiful green pasture and a, confusingly, completely empty milking parlour.

Maybe Louis is putting too much thought into this, but he really, really thinks Harry should have cows. And Harry really, really seems to disagree.

🐚 like sun on the rise by @disgruntledkittenface --- [fic post]

gryles | 8k | mature

“Sorry,” Nick says at last, a crooked grin replacing her usual friendly, but not too friendly, customer service smile. “It’s my second double this week, so I’m kind of out of it. What can I get you, pretty?”

“No, I know you,” the girl insists, her green eyes wide as she leans over the counter. “I have known you so many times, in so many different forms, in so many different lives.”

“Uh…” Nick blinks, speechless for maybe the first time in her life. The thing is, the girl looks totally sincere. Kind of awestruck really, her pretty pink lips parted slightly as she takes Nick in. Like she can’t believe her luck or something. It’s not Nick’s fault that she has no idea how to act; no one has ever looked at her like this before. “Okay?”

Harry isn’t like anyone Nick has ever met before. Maybe that’s why they work.

🐚 Of Space And Time by @quelsentiment --- [fic post]

niam | 8k | teen and up

“What was that, earlier?” Niall paused, wondering what to answer that wouldn’t make him sound completely insane. Do you think it’s possible to see the future? he wanted to ask, but instead another question came out of his lips. “Do you ever feel like… I don’t know, something or someone is missing?” A reincarnation/musician AU

🐚 Here We Come A-Wassailing by @lululawrence --- [fic post]

larry | 8k | not rated

The year Louis was in the 8th grade, his mom decided to gather the families of their closest friends to go caroling. Every family would submit two names they wanted to carol to, and the entire group would drive around town, like a mass Christmas caroling parade of cars, before stopping at a house, singing, and moving on.

Louis wasn't excited for this. It was cold, they would be outside in said cold, and he only wanted to stay warm and comfortable in the house. At least his best friend Gemma and her family are part of the caroling crew.

As the tradition develops, so does Louis' schoolboy crush on Gemma's younger brother, Harry. But that's all it is. A silly schoolboy crush.

Until they grow up, of course. And then it's something else.

🐚 with love on the line by @disgruntledkittenface --- [fic post]

stylinshaw | 7k | explicit

“I didn’t realize, since you have to get so close to a beta to scent them and I was trying to keep my distance, but it’s kind of like–”

“Apples,” Harry finishes, running the silk under his nose again. “Like a freshly cut apple at the height of fall.”

“Mm, exactly,” Louis agrees, the scent reaching his nose despite Harry’s efforts to hog it. “It blends so well with us, don’t you think? Your floral–”

“Jasmine,” Harry corrects, the way he always does. “Jasmine flower. And your sandalwood and vanilla. How does it go so well?”

“I don’t know,” Louis says, shrugging. “But it does. I think maybe that’s what it would be like. If we were with him.”

Harry and Louis have always been Harry and Louis. Then they meet Nick.

A relationship in three snapshots.

🐚 song for no one by @louandhazaf --- [fic post]

sharry | 6k | explicit

“I want to see what I was competing against,” Shawn murmured, moving in for a kiss he wasn’t sure Harry would reciprocate.

Harry closed his eyes, welcomed Shawn into his space. “Want to feel what he left me for.” His breath hitched as Shawn leaned in the rest of the way.

🐚 To Will, To Wander, To Want, To Wonder by @londonfoginacup --- [fic post]

larry | 5k | teen and up

Dear Sir,

I am aware that you may not know who I am, but I am writing this letter in order to beg for your assistance. Nine years ago, someone dear to me was kidnapped by a collection of fae, who scorched the earth in their wake. They have imprisoned him in a castle in the North Kingdom, for the sins of his parents, and no one has seen him since. I have spent nine years desperate to find a knight brave enough to face off against these fearsome fae, and I understand that you may be willing to help me in my quest. Few have been willing to help, and all who have, have returned empty-handed. I implore you to seek for the goodness within your heart, to help my dear friend. I miss him profoundly.

Yours, Niall Horan, Duke of Penworthy

Or, Louis Tomlinson, Omega Crown Prince, goes on a quest.

🐚 like air to me by @uhoh-but-yeah-alright --- [fic post]

zouis | 5k | mature

Five times Louis’ smoke break brings back memories of Zayn and one time it brings him back to Zayn’s doorstep.

🐚 Until I Found You by @reminiscingintherain --- [fic post]

zouis | 4k | teen and up

Louis' second album is due to be released, and his management think a fake relationship may be just the ticket for promotion.

Enter former bandmate Zayn, who's fourth album is in the pipeline too.

How's this going to work out?

🐚 Been Waitin' (After Weekend After Weekend After) by @absoloutenonsense --- [fic post]

larry | 3k | teen and up

Louis and Harry meet at a laundromat.

🐚 Make Your Mark by @ladyaj-13 --- [fic post]

lilo | 3k | teen and up

When one of Liam's classmates isn't getting the hint that he's not interested, Louis suggests they make him look unavailable.

🐚 When the dust settles (Will we be alright?) by @mercurial-madhouse --- [fic post]

larry | 3k | mature

Harry closes the distance between them until the inebriating scent from the newly-presented omega nearly overwhelms him. Learning to balance both genders with their pheromones yet to settle, those who’ve just presented have the strongest scents. In this world, Louis’ scent is a death sentence. They both know they’re racing fate, luck, and time now.

---

A ficlet in honor of the brilliant prompt: Male omegas are practically extinct. Most were eradicated due to their magical abilities, leading alphas to fear and envy them and declare civil war. A few hundred years have passed. Louis is a late bloomer, waiting to present as a beta… things don’t go as planned.

🐚 BLAH BLAH BLAH there's a moment you know (you're f*cked) by @mercurial-madhouse --- [fic post]

larry | 3k | mature

Anyone impulsive enough to betray their country is either foolish or overly-confident. Louis’s too cunning for the former. So his inflated ego tips precariously close to the edge between pride and hubris. In sum: He may be an expert, (as proven by the .32-cal Beretta Alleycat Harry found strapped to his back) but ex-agent Louis Tomlinson will explode like a busted bullet misfiring in a broken gunbarrel if Harry can find his trigger.

___

Or, the spy AU in which Harry thinks he's prepared to meet Louis only to find he's not.

🐚 Roses by @ladyaj-13 --- [fic post]

nouis | 2k | teen and up

He’s going to go for it. He’s going to ask to be - boyfriends, or partners, or whatever you call it when you’re in your thirties and already know each other inside out. It feels like jumping off a cliff, but at the same time - it’s Niall. He can’t be afraid with Niall.

🐚 Cake Date? by @sadaveniren --- [fic post]

larry | 2k | mature

Louis is raising money for a bake sale. Harry wants to help.

🐚 A Meeting of Minds (and other things too) by @ladyaj-13 --- [fic post]

ziam | 1k | teen and up

Zayn's fed up, Liam's a bartender, and maybe they'll both get what they need.

🐚 Candles and Clocks by @ladyaj-13 --- [fic post]

nouis | 1k | general audiences

Niall is homesick on the X Factor tour. Louis helps.

🐚 still, somehow by @disgruntledkittenface

lilo | 1k | not rated

Louis trims Liam's split ends.

🐚 Damn it, Let Me Cuddle You! by @ladyaj-13 --- [fic post]

nouis | 920 | teen and up

Louis and Niall are both the big spoon. This causes issues.

🐚 Winds Blowing Westerly by @ladyaj-13 --- [fic post]

nouis | 655 | general audiences

Louis wakes up slowly.

He’s not in his bed, but there’s nothing strange about that.

#28th appreciation #fic rec #my recs #my lists

90 notes · View notes

multifandomfanficss · 3 years

Text

Perfect

Doctor x Reader (Platonic!Jack x Reader)

Prompt: When on an adventure with the Doctor and Jack the reader is attacked by an alien called a Psyfon, a race with psychic abilities who feed off of emotions. The reader gets stuck in their perfect dream realm and the Doctor has to save them before they die in there.

Warnings: Dead family members.

A/N: Pretty much any Doctor can be used, but I mostly thought of 10 and 11 while writing it. The aliens were inspired by the Djinn from Supernatural. I was also inspired by Doctor Who: The Infinite Quest a little bit so if you’re a fan of the main series you should totally check that out. Also please let me know if I made an error in pronouns. I tried to make the reader gender neutral so everyone could relate.

You had been traveling with the Doctor for a while now and had run into Jack not long after you met him. When you first met Jack, an old friend of the Doctor’s, you didn’t believe him when he said he had known the Doctor for over a century. Judging by his earthly appearance and his age there was no way this could be true, but after watching him die you quickly learned of his immortality.

You met the Doctor when he saved you from the Cybermen. Sadly he couldn’t save your family from such a terrible fate, but he got you out just in time. Ever since then they had been your biggest fear. Jack and the Doctor had lived for so long they both knew what it was like to lose the people they cared for most...nobody knew better than the Doctor. They helped you get through the pain that came after such a big loss. The Doctor would often hear crying coming from your room during your early nights on the TARDIS when he sat up late in the console room and he would be at your side in seconds to comfort you. He was always there for you no matter what. You wouldn’t have gotten to this point without him. By now the nightmares had gone away, mostly, and the scars had stopped bleeding, but they were still there. They would always be there. This history was a part of you forever, your history, and you were just lucky enough to have the Doctor in it. If you’re being completely honest with yourself you had grown a little bit of a crush on the Doctor. I mean who wouldn’t? He’s the Doctor. You loved him, but you would never tell him. You were happy living with his ignorance. Life was better in the bliss of your friendship.

It had been just a normal adventure with your two best friends, Jack and the Doctor, but then again nothing was ever really normal with them. You were separated from your boys as your ran down a long dark corridor. Your shoes slapped against the cold, hard pavement as you rounded the corner. When you looked behind you there seemed to be nothing chasing you anymore. You stopped to catch your breath.

The three of you had been investigating a series of psychic attacks that were leaving people brain dead and full of a strange blue goo. You weren’t sure what kind of alien could do such a thing, but you knew you had to find out.

“(Y/N)?!” I hear Jack yell in a hushed tone. His voice echos throughout the empty building. You turn to look for him when you start to hear ringing in your ears and a giant pounding in your head. You feel your eyes close as your body hits the ground.

THIRD PERSON POV

Jack stood next to (Y/N)’s body with his gun aimed at the monster while the Doctor crouched down to check their pulse.

“You better hope they’re still alive!” Jack said as he shoved his big gun in the monster’s face. Usually the Doctor would object to pointing guns at people, but he was so worried about (Y/N) he didn’t have time to care about Jack’s manners.

“What did you do to them?!” The Doctor asks standing up to look at the alien. They were from a species called Psyfons, a group of aliens who feed off the emotions of other people.

“Don’t worry, they’re only sleeping,” the alien slurred.

“For now,” they added. Jack hit the alien with the butt of his gun and knocked them out. The Doctor gave him a disapproving look.

“You should be happy. Knocking them out was the least I could do” Jack joked. The Doctor rolled his eyes and dropped down to (Y/N)‘s body again. Jack joined him this time. They were sweating. He placed his hand over their forehead.

“They’re burning up” Jack stated the obvious.

“Yes, I know I-I I have to do-do this thing-“ The Doctor starts stuttering.

“Then do it!” Jack cuts him.

“But I can’t! I swore I’d never do it again! Not since-“ He started to get a little choked up.

“Since what?!” Jack questioned.

“Not since Donna” The Doctor finished sadly. Jack put a hand on the Doctor’s shoulder.

“It’s the only way to save them” Jack told him.

“It was the only way to save her too” The Doctor says sadly.

“Maybe it’ll be different this time” Jack suggests.

“We don’t know that” The Doctor says coldly as he puts his hands to (Y/N)’s head and enter’s their mind.

(Y/N)’S POV

You wake up laying in the grass in front of your old house. You hear the sound of birds and the sun is just a little too bright for comfort, but it’s home. You take a deep breath of the fresh air. You smile, but you’re confused. You look over to see the Doctor standing in the TARDIS door. Jack is nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Jack?” You ask.

“Oh, popped off to see his friends at Torchwood, I suppose” The Doctor tells you. You nod as you look back to your house.

“And we’re home because...” You wonder.

“The Psyfon knocked you out. I figured this would be a nice, safe place to rest for a while” He reminds you.

“And I couldn’t just rest in the TARDIS?” You ask.

“I thought this would be a nice surprise” He says.

“What year is it?” You ask. You doubt he would be able to bring you to a time period where your family is alive, but it never hurts to ask.

“2021” He answers.

“So they’re not here” you say sadly.

“Who’s not here?” He asks.

“My family” You say becoming more sad, but more confused by the second. How could he just forget like that? You know he’s lived for a long time, but surely he wouldn’t forget something this important to you. Would he? He gives you a confused look.

“Doctor, my family is d-“ You’re cut off by the sound of a door opening.

“You didn’t tell us you were coming!” You hear a voice say. You stop dead in your tracks and you go white. It can’t be.

“Mom?” You say as you turn around to see her. You run to her and engulf her in a giant hug.

“Woah, what’s that for?” Your mother asks delighted, as you practically knock her down.

“I just missed you. That’s all” You say as you try to hold back your tears.

“Where is everybody?” You ask, as it suddenly dawns on you that your family is alive.

“Your father went to go pick up your brother and sister from school” She informs you. The Doctor comes up behind you and takes your hand. He squeezes it, giving you a big smile. He is an impossible man, but you never knew he could do something like this for you.

“Why don’t you two come in? It’s almost time for tea” Your mother invites you in. You gladly accept, of course. You watch your mother go into the kitchen as you pull the Doctor aside into the living room and hug him tightly.

“Thank you” You tell him. That’s when you start to let go of a few tears.

“I figured it was time to go home” He says happily. The hug lingers a little longer than usual. He just holds you. Then he places a quick kiss to your cheek, just missing your lips. Your face goes red. This is completely out of character for your relationship with the Doctor. Sure you had always wanted to be something more, but he didn’t need to know that. You didn’t want your relationship with him to change. You figure it’s best to just dance around the subject. You pull away and clear your throat.

“So, um...how did you do it?” You ask.

“Do what?” He asks looking lovingly into your eyes.

“Bring my family back?” You ask with a slight chuckle.

“I didn’t” He says simply. That’s when your head begins to ring again.

“Let me in, (Y/N). That’s it.” You hear the Doctor’s voice, but his lips aren’t moving. Suddenly there is a light and the Doctor shifts uncomfortably. He cracks his neck and stretches out his arms.

“Good thing there was a body here for me to jump into or else that could have been disastrous” He comments. You give him a confused look.

“Oh, yes! I’m sorry (Y/N), but none of this is real” He says plainly.

“What?” You ask. This all certainly looks and feels real. The sound of a kettle whistle comes from the kitchen. The Doctor sniffs the air.

“Is that tea?” He asks.

“Tea’s ready!” Your mom calls from the kitchen.

“Doctor, you need to tell me what’s going on right now” You demand. He looks into the kitchen and makes a face.

“The Psyfon. It put you in a dream state so it could feed off your energy and emotions. You’re dying in the real world. Turning to goo” He held out the last word as he made a face of disgust and interest. He gave you a sad look as he started to put the pieces together, of where you were and who you were with. You started to feel your legs give out from underneath you. The Doctor guided you to a chair.

“I want to stay” You say numbly.

“(Y/N), none of this is real” He starts.

“I don’t care. I want to stay” You repeat.

“You’ll die in here” He begins.

“Time works differently in dreams. I could easily spend my whole life here-“ You try to rationalize it.

“You’ll never see me again” The Doctor tries.

“There’s a version of you here-“ You try, but are cut off again. He crouches down to your level and takes hold of your hands.

“(Y/N), none of this is real. It will never be real. Your pain balances out your beauty. There wouldn’t be one without the other and that’s what makes you human and you are SO human. This is all in your head. You will be alone in here forever. Please just come home with me. There are people there who will miss you. Come back with me, back to the TARDIS, please!” He results to begging as a last ditch effort.

“How can I go back when everything is so perfect here? I’m perfect here. I’m not a mess. I can just be me” You start to cry.

“You’re always perfect to me and that little bit of mess makes you human. It doesn’t lessen your beauty or your creativity or your kindness. It just adds to who you are as a person” He says, wiping away a tear.

“Please. Come home with me” He begs. You nod in response as he gives your hands a squeeze. He gives you a sad smile. You stand together and you hear the doorbell ring.

“That must be your father. He forgot his keys again” Your mother laughs as she walks to the door. The door opens and the Doctor pushes himself in front of your as three Cybermen crash through the door.

“DELETE” One yells, as it kills your mother.

“NO” You scream, as the Doctor tries to keep you from running towards her.

“She isn’t real! Come on!” He yells over the sound of pounding Cybermen feet as he pulls you out the back way to the garden.

“Where’s the TARDIS?” He asks.

“It’s on the other side of the house!” You say as you pull him around the building. You lay your eyes on the beautiful blue box as the Doctor shoves his key inside.

“YOU WILL BE UPGRADED” The Cybermen shout. Once unlocked, you push your way through the doors to find a hollow Police Box.

“Why is this happening?!” You cry. The Doctor places his hands on your shoulders.

“The dream is turning into a nightmare to try to keep you here. (Y/N), come on. You have to think. What’s keeping you here?” He asks.

“My family is dead!” You cry.

“Yes, something else” He tries to think. You look at his thinking face. His beautiful thinking face and it strikes you.

“I’m in love with you” You blurt out.

“What?!” He looks back at you with a confused look.

“The version of you here. I think he felt the same way” You give him an embarrassed look. He lets go of a big breath.

“Well...” He starts as he tilts his head.

“I suppose if admitting the way I feel gets us out of here then the real me doesn’t feel very different” He finishes quickly.

“Wait, what?!” You respond. He gives you his classic Doctor smile before the Cybermen fade. Everything fades. The world goes black.

You wake up crying with a pounding headache in your bed in the TARDIS. The Doctor rushes in just like old times.

“It’s okay. I’m here” The Doctor tells you as he sits on your bed and wraps his arms around you.

“I just had the most insane dream” You start to tell him.

“Well...” His voice fades.

“Doctor, was that real?” You ask him. He pulls back to look at you.

“In a sense, yes” He goes on to explain the effects the Psyfon had on you and how he went into your mind to save you. He explains how you were unconscious when you came out of the dream state and that he brought you back to your room on the TARDIS to rest.

“Where’s Jack?” You ask.

“He’s bringing the Psyfon to the Shadow Proclamation for me where they will be tried for their psychological attacks. They won’t hurt anyone anymore” He promises. After you’ve calmed down somewhat he gets up to leave the room.

“You should get some rest” He says opening the door.

“Wait! Doctor, do you think maybe you could stay with me? Just until I fall asleep?” You ask.

“Of course” He responds as he awkwardly climbs into your bed and wraps his arms around you. You almost forget about your confessions until he kisses you on the cheek.

“Goodnight, (Y/N)” He says sweetly.

“Goodnight, Doctor” You say as you drift off to sleep to the sound of his dual heartbeats.

500 notes · View notes

el-im · 3 years

Text

ok no one cares but i am once again thinking about how andrew j. robinson’s writing in a stitch in time fundamentally changed the the way i’ve come to view garak and how i interpret the “Of all the stories you told me, which ones were true and which ones weren't?” / "My dear Doctor, they're all true." / "Even the lies?" / "Especially the lies.” interaction from the wire (which initially i was very thrown off by). by suggesting that the stories garak fabricates are indicative of how he chooses to define himself, i think the stories from the wire serve specifically to illustrate what garak most covets/coveted in life, and that they contain elements of the circumstances/relationships/motivations/etc. that garak never had, or were beyond his reach. by making up these particular circumstances, garak is juxtaposing his words against the actuality of his life, and by that comparison his lies demonstrate the truth of his relationship with tain, his work in the obsidian order, and his personal convictions...

Story 1: “During the occupation, I was a Gul in the Cardassian Mechanised Infantry. We were stationed just outside the Bajoran Capital. Shortly before the withdrawal, a handful of Bajoran prisoners escaped from my custody. My aide, a man named Elim, tracked them to a Cardassian shuttle about to depart for Terok Nor. Elim got aboard, but the captain refused to let him search the ship, because he claimed he was under strict orders from Gul Dukat to depart immediately. So I had the shuttle destroyed, killing the escapees, Elim, and ninety seven Cardassian civilians... I followed my orders. None of those prisoners escaped off of Bajor alive. Unfortunately as it turned out, one of the passengers on the shuttle was the daughter of a prominent military official. I was stripped of my rank and commission, and exiled from Cardassia.”

-> what i get from this one is that garak wants a) companionship (in this “aide”, elim), b) authority (in my mind, this is more of a past item of desire. in his youth in the obsidian order, he wanted to emulate tain, and was indoctrinated to think that power should be sought after above all else, and not relinquished), and c) ruthlessness. the crowning jewel of tain’s service as the head of the obsidian order, garak grew up with detachment and brutality being demonstrated as the guiding principle of leadership, command, delegation... the funny thing about all these garak episodes, and which I am glad to see that the fandom so readily picked up on (see one of my favorite posts: “i don’t understand why ds9 fandom casts garak as some sort of suave oscar wilde daddy dom when he’s clearly the kind of older man who gets trashed at a casino at 3pm on thursdays and tips dabo boys extra to hold him while he cries”) is that for all his posturing, for all his discussion about the difference between cardassian principles and “federation dogma”, for all we actually, genuinely learn about what garak did during his time in the obsidian order (for all interested in garak’s life pre-terok nor/ds9, please take this free link and read a stitch in time it’s one of like... two trek novels i’d ever recommend and is so good i promise <3), for all we learn about what he did after (the assassination of senator vreenak “in in the pale moonlight”), garak still doesn’t... come off as hardened, or unfeeling. he repeatedly demonstrates a willingness to put himself in harm's way to save the people he cares about (most notably, bashir/martok during their time in the jem hadar prison, but even once going to cardassia to save kira, who detests/detested him (depending on if you believe their relationship changed over the course of the show) and risking arrest/execution by returning to cardassia during his exile). for all his pretending otherwise (from second skin: GARAK: “I have no intention of sacrificing my life to save yours. If it looks like we're in danger of being captured... if there are any signs of trouble at all... you're on your own. SISKO: Mister Garak, I believe that's the first completely honest thing you've ever said to me.”), Garak isn’t selfish, or at the least isn’t constantly, predictably selfish. He’s self-sacrificial more often that he’s given credit for, he’s occasionally kind. I think the first story he tells in the wire is so indicative of the inner conflict he feels. inside him is a child who was brought up to revel in the glory of violence in the middle of a military occupation of another world. there is a part of him that persists in believing strength is only fortification, obfuscation, invulnerability. and yet there is a part of him now wrestling with the belief that he can only be saved through honesty, by telling bashir about the implant and why it’s there and who he is that warrants it. one of the most remarkable things about this wholly incredible episode is this struggle between these two parts of himself.

and really, garak isn’t stubborn, or stupid. he knows if he wants to save his life (and for a moment... for some inexplicable reason, he does), he’ll have to give bashir some tipping hint. he has to tell him enough of the truth to give him a way to help him, and that’s what all these stories come down to. he is hinting as best he can. he is explaining as much as possible, so as not to betray the angry little boy inside him who sees this addiction as a weakness, who sees his attachment to bashir, and to his life on the station as a vulnerability, exploited. then there’s a second layer in which (after discovery that garak is elim) the audience gleans that garak (in his youth) desperately wanted direction, for someone to tell him what do to and how to do it--that he wanted to be excused from his actions on the basis of “following direct orders”... god, but then I think about how garak chooses to kill the figure of elim he paints here. paired with the resignation to his own fate at this point in the episode (garak knows a replacement device can’t be obtained, that his body is too reliant on the implant to function on its own, and that withdrawal without supplement will be deadly... which is to say garak is sure he is going to die), this seems so poignant. does he wish he’d have died years ago? killed in some random shoot out at the orders of someone higher up on the obsidian order’s chain of command? and can you imagine that? tain would bury the report so as to conceal his son’s involvement with the order (sentimentality always coming second to security, of course), letting this “elim garak” be listed as some citizen at the wrong place at the wrong time, a random victim of the violence of the bajoran occupation... garak, in an instant, would be forgotten. brushed aside by his father in favor of obscuring the actual operation undergone.

in the end i think the most i get from this version of the story is that subtle death wish. if he had been a less important operative, or if he had died then, he wouldn’t be enduring this now (return to the conversation about a lifetime serving cardassia re: “the neverending sacrifice” at the opening of the ep....). part of me believes garak wishes he would have died then, before he could have been exiled, before setting up his shop on the station, before meeting bashir...

garashir side note: “At first, he just wanted to have sex with him. That's absolutely clear. That's all he wanted from him. ‘Come to my shop, I got some nice clothes for you... but you'll have to change first.’ But then it really got complicated, especially when Garak's addiction and despair began to surface. He needed someone to share it with.” - Andy Robinson, from “What We Left Behind”. / “What we should've done, after The Wire in season two, the episode where Bashir helps him get over his addiction, we should've had Garak come out to Bashir as a gay Cardassian... Garak comes out as gay in season two, we have five seasons to play that Bashir and Garak relationship. Where that would have gone, who the hell knows, but it could've been so cool.” - Ira Steven Behr, from “What We Left Behind”.

Considering these two quotes from the actor who played Garak and the head writer on DS9, another thing about this episode I’m throwing my two cents in for is the obvious implications for this deepening the relationship between garak and bashir. One of the most frustrating things about this episode is how much it just begs for more, more, more. The casual banter about literature they start up at the beginning of the episode, the refusal on garak’s part of letting bashir take him the the infirmary (hello cardassian stubbornness, the whole scene reeks so much of ‘I do not want you to see me vulnerable, I want you to think me strong and independent and not in danger’. the whole charade reminds me so much of a wounded animal putting on a brave face so as to not be found out. garak does not want bashir (specifically!) to see him sick, to see him needing. he does not want to admit that he needs his help, that he needs him)...

then everything else that follows that, bashir worriedly reaching out to his friends for help and advice: talking to o’brien about his concerns for garak and asking about retrieving the cardassian medical files, then to dax, who tells him flatly “It sounds like you're taking this personally.... It's not like you two are really friends.”. the affront on bashir’s part at hearing that. “It's just that Garak and I have been having lunch together once a week for more than a year now. You'd think he'd come to trust me a little!” he exclaims. then how defeated and angry he is (violently stabbing her plant with mycorrhizae), the strong thread of bitterness humming in his honey-sweet voice, “If he doesn't want my help, that's his prerogative.”

there’s something so magnificent about the timeline here. how long they’ve known each other by now, the fact that bashir is the only person garak really considers his own on the station (“it isn’t bashir who dies, is it? Ira, you’re not going to kill off julian, are you? I mean, where does that leave me? I mean, he’s my only relationship in this show! I don’t have him, I have nothing. I’m hanging out in space with nobody to talk to!” - DS9Doc's Ira Steven Behr pushes for more DS9 in HD!)... it’s so plainly laid out that bashir is the only thing garak has, the only reason he has to be curious about what else life could bring him at this point in his life, so far from home, from his family, from the only job he ever felt he had been suited for.

which is not even to mention julian’s reaction to this first story. “So now you know, Doctor. I hope I haven't shattered too many of your illusions.” garak concludes. There is a pregnant pause of still hesitation (in which i imagine garak is reeling--because, at the same time, i think, despite this relay being an attempt to communicate his own misery, these stories are also made to push something in bashir. Garak is at the end of his rope, drifting (almost) untethered into unknown space and he is reaching out in the hope that julian, (despite, despite, despite...) will take his hand. Garak is trying to see just how far Julian will go to save him, to forgive him. He is trying to discover if there is an exception to his “federation dogma”, if there is really truth to that myth of human kindness he’d heard so much about... in this moment, Garak is playing this horrific, dangerous, loving, desperate game of cat and mouse. “Could you still love me if I...” he seems to say, and believes at some point he’ll be responded to with a “no”, but hopes, against his better judgement, beyond belief, that he wont be. And then Julian looks up at him, faces close enough for Garak to feel his steady breath on his cheeks as he says, calmly, “Listen to me, Garak. Right now I'm not concerned with what you did in the past. I'm simply not going to walk out of here and let you die. We need to turn that implant off and whatever withdrawal symptoms or side effects you may experience, I promise I'll help you through them. I need to know where that triggering device is. Where is it?”

And that line is it for me, beyond so much of the other golden ones in this episode. This is the first time that Garak hears that unequivocal acceptance, and it just sends him staggering. In all his life, he’s never been faced with love like that. His father pushed him away, let him believe for years that he wasn’t his son. Mila didn’t, or couldn’t, or wouldn’t put up a fight for him when Tain exiled him...

this is one moment in ds9 where i am particularly grateful for ds9 being filmed on a 4:3 aspect ratio that forced characters so close together to be in a shot. in this scene, a line from Shauna Barbosa’s “GPS”, Cape Verdean Blues comes back to me, and I look at the pair of them so close on the screen, Julian so open and Garak so agast, and I just think, “You kiss the back of my legs and I want to cry. Only / the sun has come this close, only the sun.”

all is to say: andy robinson himself has said that bashir is the only relationship garak has. assuming garak’s killing of elim in this first story is indicative of his own wish that he might have died during his work with the obsidian order (and thus been spared exile, the torture of life on the station, the gradual dependency he forged on the implant, and the inevitable withdrawal he was going to experience), there necessitates a question of why garak should agree to treatment (thus saving his life) only to continue living on a station he found so hellish in the past*

*oh... the magnificent (perfectly summative) conversation between Tain and Bashir... “BASHIR: He's dying. TAIN: And you're trying to save him. BASHIR: That's right. TAIN: Strange. I thought you were his friend. BASHIR: I suppose I am. TAIN: Then you should let him die. After all, for Garak, a life in exile is no life at all.”

to me, this question has three answers: 1. he is appeasing an insistent julian (though this begets the suggestion that garak doesn’t have much faith in julian’s treating him--in which case, garak decides that one of his last acts in life will be making julian happy) 2. he is choosing to live because he is... intrigued by julian. because he likes his company and the meals they share and the books they trade... and because he is curious to see where this relationship will go. Julian has made his life bearable (dare I say enjoyable? see: “GARAK: [They] left me to live out my days with nothing to look forward to but having lunch with you. BASHIR: I'm sorry you feel that way. I thought you enjoyed my company. GARAK: I did. And that's the worst part. I can't believe that I actually enjoyed eating mediocre food and staring into at your smug, sanctimonious face. ”) and has thus given him some reason to get up in the morning, even if it is for a frivolous little lunch appointment in another few days or 3. he is choosing to live not for julian, but directly because of him. even if this relationship has a platonic reading, it can’t be denied that julian opened up a new world for garak, and if nothing else was able to stay his boredom/disgust with life on the station

Story 2: GARAK: There was a time, Doctor, oh there was a time when I was a power. The protégé of Enabran Tain himself. Do you have any idea what that means?... Tain was the Obsidian Order. Not even the Central Command dared challenge him. And I was his right hand. My future was limitless until I threw it away. BASHIR: You mean when you had that shuttle shot down to stop those prisoners from escaping? GARAK: Stop them? I only wish that I had stopped them. BASHIR: You didn't? GARAK: No, Doctor, my disgrace was worse than that. Unimaginably worse. BASHIR: What could you have possibly done worse than that? GARAK: I let them go. It was the eve of the Cardassian withdrawal. Elim and I were interrogating five Bajorans. They were children, Doctor. None of them were older than fourteen years old. They knew nothing. They lived in bombed-out rooms, scrounged for food on the streets. They were filthy and they stank. The room was freezing cold, the air was like ice, and suddenly the whole exercise seemed utterly meaningless. All I wanted was a hot bath and a good meal. So I let them go. I gave them whatever latinum I had in my pockets, and opened the door, and flung them back into the street. Elim couldn't believe his eyes. He looked at me as if I were insane.”

-> from this version of the story there’s a much clearer division between the elim garak (a young agent of the obsidian order baptized in fire) he was in his youth and the elim garak he is now (a disgraced former agent, exiled, alone save for one ambitious, self assured federation doctor). this, i think, seems to show the separation between what this character “elim” (young garak) wanted: which was uncompromising brutality and dedication to his work, and what present garak wants: peace, a full belly, the ability to be charitable (specifically to young, hungry bajorans)...

this story to me is one that best places this contemporary incarnation of garak relative to his bajoran counterparts on the station. in the beginning of this episode, when telling bashir why he initially chose to activate the implant, he speaks about how he, as the only cardassian living on ds9, is viewed by the bajorans living there. (“Living on this station is torture for me, Doctor. The temperature is always too cold, the lights always too bright. Every Bajoran on the station looks at me with loathing and contempt.”) In this story, by releasing the children and giving them the latinum he had, he’s trying to repent to Julian, asking to be forgiven for the part he played in the occupation of bajor by showing that he was/is (depending on how you view the timeline of the progression of his attitudes) sympathetic to them, and that he regrets the hand he had in bringing war, famine, and subjugation to them.

Story 3: “GARAK: Elim wasn't my aide. He was my friend. We grew up together. We were closer than brothers. For some reason, Enabran Tain took a liking to us. Before long, we were both powerful men in the Obsidian Order. They called us the Sons of Tain. Even the Guls feared us. And then there was a scandal. Someone in the Order was accused of letting some Bajoran prisoners escape. There were constant rumours of who was going to be implicated. Fingers were being pointed at me. By then Tain had retired to the Arawath Colony. He couldn't protect me, so I panicked. I did everything in my power to make sure that Elim was accused instead of me. I altered records, planted evidence, only to discover that he'd beaten me to it. BASHIR: He betrayed you first? GARAK: Elim destroyed me. Before I knew what was going on, I was sentenced to exile. And the irony is, I deserved it. Oh, not for the reasons they claimed, but because of what I had tried to do to Elim, my best friend.”

-> whenever I think back to this, my first impression remains that this is one of the stories where Bashir is considered. At this point, Garak’s been transferred from his room to the infirmary. Despite turning the implant off, toxins are continuing to accumulate in his lymphatic systems. He’s been sad (even woke bashir up with his weeping), he’s been angry (destroyed the vase and flipped the desk in his room, attacked bashir...), and now he’s calm, and tired. He thinks this is the end. He refuses to have the implant turned back on, which nurse jabara estimates might give him another week to live. This is the end of the line for him, and he’s accepting it with dignity and grace. He goes to release Bashir from his obligation to him “you’re done enough, Doctor. More than I deserve...” and goes to tell Bashir “the truth”. To me, this is his goodbye. Even if it isn’t a true story, this is the gift he’s giving Bashir. This is what he (spinner of wonderful lies, obfuscating agent of the despicable obsidian order) can give him as a parting gift--it is what he wants him to have.

in this story, Garak is not friendless, as he is on the station. He has a close relationship with someone (’see, then, doctor?’ he seems to ask playfully, life sputtering out of his eyes. ‘i am capable of it!’)... and yet, there is also betrayal. It reminds me of an assurance, in a way. “Bashir,” he seems to say, the entire weight of all the good doctor’s efforts to save him pressing down on his every word, “look what might have come to you had I allowed you to care for me. There is only danger for you to find in me.” In this, Elim stands in place of Bashir. A steadfast friend who Garak works against for the sake of self preservation. In this moment, Garak is pleading with the man standing above him next to the biobed. He is insisting Bashir be grateful for the shallowness of their relationship (something I Garak ensured deliberately), and telling him that, though he is grateful for him, that if they had been closer, Garak would only have caused him pain.

The heart of this story is Garak’s appraisal of his own self worth. Regardless of how much he’s changed since his time in the order, he persists in thinking he functions in the world to cause harm, much so that it is the only thing he’s able to do. Garak sees himself as the knife in the backs of others, or the hand raised, dagger in clutch.

the second thing i see is contained wholly within the line: “By then Tain had retired to the Arawath Colony. He couldn't protect me, so I panicked.” aside from assurances made to bashir, i think the purpose of this speech is to demonstrate (in the fashion of the lies being true) that garak wanted, and still wants safety. he wanted someone (Tain) to come to his defense then. while this extends to the implication that garak wanted tain, as his father, to stand up for him out of pride, or love, or even a perfunctory sense of parental commitment rather than exile him (a recurring desire illustrates/suggested in the show/books), i also think its perfectly suited to the care julian is exhibiting in tending to him in this episode. for all garak’s refusal to acknowledge his pain (a mere headache, as he claimed when they stood outside the replimat), for all his refusal to go to the infirmary when they meet at quark’s later, the care julian is constantly exhibiting through this episode is what garak is most endeared by. it is the thing he wanted most in his youth, and the thing now (because it was denied to him then) he finds so difficult to accept. there are many (many) instances throughout the show of garak and bashir talking about the extension of federation help/kindness, and this being something bashir embodies, btu this is one of the illustrations that sticks with me because of its particular placement. In the story, Garak wanted protection. He was alone, and afraid, and wanted help. As it now stands, he is not alone, he is calm, and has help. That is perhaps the most startling revelation for him of all.

and last but not least another... intriguing part of all garak’s stories is his repeated separation of himself and elim. the illusion of separation is one of the most intriguing (and heartbreaking) aspects of these story to me. garak has always struck me as the kind of character who sees grief and regret as an impetus for amputation. he believes what is unpleasant or unnecessary about him he can cut off and live through. he believes he can build up a wall between himself and what he doesn’t want to see or experience without repercussion (this being why he activated the implant in the first place). by making elim and himself two separate people he is not only distancing himself from whatever it was he really did, thus taking responsibility for it in part and allowing the other half of himself turn away in disgust and without sympathy, but suggesting that he cannot be culpable entirely for what it was he did. in each of his stories, the blame is to be shared, divided. the hardest part of all of this to swallow is that even after all this time, he’s begging for someone to spare him of the crushing loneliness of disgrace, begging for someone to understand fully what he’s done, accept him, and shoulder a part of his burden, much so that he creates an entirely new incarnation of himself just to sit with him in hell.

anyway ive also been fucking around on memory alpha and this was intriguing to me so im putting it here:

"When I was writing the story," stated Robert Hewitt Wolfe, "the movie Schindler's List had just come out and Ira was saying, 'Maybe he was Schindler; maybe he was the guy who let the prisoners go.' And then it was, 'Maybe he wasn't; maybe he was the Butcher of Budapest.' So we just kept telling all these lies, and I think the truth lies somewhere in there. Maybe he did let people go. Maybe he did shoot down the ship. Who knows?" (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Companion (p. 141))

#trek #elim garak #sorry for longposting but once again i am thinking about him (garak)#he's just such a fantastic character that i read SO MUCH into #its a shame they didnt do more w him really im upset he wasnt as cherished by fans when the show was in production as he obviously is now #also. reminds me why i have this url #he's deeply fascinating and i love him and hate him and sympathize with him and think hes unforgivable and i ....#ANYWAY i am not even going to talk about the . hand holding 'i forgive you... for whatever it is you did' thing because that opens a BREACH #this is one of the longest posts ive ever written on this god awful site #anyway it is from the heart #i love him so much and i love this episode.

121 notes · View notes

autisticandroids · 3 years

Note

yknow those episodes where a character's whole personality gets split into 3-5 different distinct separate bodies? what bodies would cas have? I feel like it'd just be a mess tbh, imagine 5 different castiels all of them loving dean to a certain extent but showing it VASTLY differently. one cas would literally want to murder the others lmao

okay so i don’t actually think this trope would be an effective tool for analyzing cas? he’s not conflicted enough in himself. he’s too impulsive, too singleminded, too uninhibited. like, in the end, cas always ends up doing whatever he wants. there aren’t multiple discrete voices vying for control, really, or rather, if there are, one is always significantly stronger than the others. like in the end cas will always end up eating raw meat off the floor, you know? he’ll do what he wants. if i was going to do personality splitting i’d do it to someone intensely internally conflicted, like dean.

however, because i’m in an essay writing mood today, i’ll answer a question slightly to the left of the one you asked. cas may not be internally conflicted, but he is intensely changeable. these two things are related, actually; the same impulsivity and singlemindedness that mean he doesn’t have a ton of internal conflict at any given time mean that different ideas sound good to him at different times, because he isn’t really thinking about, say, what future-him will think of them. and he’s not really trying to maintain an image or identity. he’s just doing what feels right at the time, which is very different at different times and in different situations.

anyway, that in mind, i think a lot about ways to bring together many alternate versions of cas which sort of correspond to different times in the show.

i have a fic in my head about a bunch of cas-es pulled from alternate timelines by some kind of spell. so this would be set during the widower arc because the basic impulse here is to show dean a very bad time. just absolutely put him through hell. also, all the alternate timelines are different because different stuff happened, not because cas made different choices, because if we’re torturing dean it has to be like 5x04, the changes in cas can’t be cas’ fault. they have to be dean’s or just like, the universe’s (which makes them dean’s).

so dean is trying to bring cas back, and he finds some kind of spell that can bring someone “from another world.” and he tries it because hey. can’t hurt to try. anyway i’ve thought a long time about different versions of cas i would put in this and here is what i have. in order of when the timeline split off.

- a cas who never raised dean from hell. think 14x13 “lebanon.” this one i’m not too sure about, like, this could be fun, but i don’t know if it’s different enough from the next one. like this castiel would have lived through the averted apocalypse and subsequent general fuckery that happened as an angelic footsoldier, which would actually be pretty interesting now that i think about it, especially since all that stuff would have gone down soooooooo differently without cas specifically for your average angel footsoldier. like cas has PERSONALLY caused more upheaval in heaven in twelve years of spn than there seems to have been in millennia. so he would be the point of view of a normal footsoldier from a totally other world.

- a cas who died mid season four, and is pulled out of the empty in 2017 by this spell. i’m not sure when this cas died. my thoughts are (1) killed in on the head of a pin by alistair, (2) killed during his torture in the rapture, or (3) simply never resurrected after lucifer rising. (3) makes the most sense, but that cas has already thrown away everything for dean. i prefer the idea of a cas who loves dean, is already on the brink of disobedience for him, but has not yet taken the plunge. both on the head of a pin and the rapture are great places for this, and they both have strengths and weaknesses. if he died in the rapture, he was killed by heaven, which is fundamentally more fun, but he was also really very much over the edge already. if he died in on the head of a pin, he wasn’t killed by heaven, but he is perfectly teetering on the brink of falling for dean. regardless of when he died, the purpose of this cas is to be horrified at all the various and myriad ways he has destroyed and corrupted himself for dean in the other timelines.

- possibly endverse cas, who would have died in 2014, but like s4 cas, would have been pulled from the afterlife by the spell. i’m not so sure on this one. we as a society love endverse cas but i dunno what purpose he would serve. maybe endverse cas didn’t die in 2014, and instead was imprisoned by lucifer, because, you know. he’s the only brother lucifer has left. so he is very excited to see dean alive and well, since his dean is dead, and, not being an angel, cas can’t bring him back. the purpose of this cas would be to horrify dean that cas loves him and needs him so much, and to disgust the other cas-es with his neediness.

- a cas who was in some way on better terms with dean during s6. maybe dean and cas ride off into the sunset together after swan song instead of dean going to live with lisa, maybe dean prayed to cas while he was with lisa because he missed him, who knows. either way, cas has dean’s help with the angel revolution in season six from the start, and never goes to crowley. the plan cas and dean come up with to beat raphael includes breaking into the cage and stealing the grace of michael and lucifer, freeing sam and adam in the process. incidentally, it also involves cas possessing dean, because if cas is gonna eat archangel grace to become more powerful, he’s going to need a stronger vessel. so cas and dean have a whole like. midam situation happening. they’re a double archangel together, and godstiel never happened so none of the other terrible apocalypses that stemmed from that happened, and everything is pretty cool where they’re from, and also they’re obviously uhhhhhh SOME kind of together. the purpose of this cas is to upset dean because this cas shows how much better everything could have been and how much better his and cas’ relationship could have been if dean had simply been more considerate of cas in s6, and also freak dean out with how uh. close. this dean and cas are.

- a godstiel who managed to swallow purgatory without swallowing the leviathans and remained god. he’s probably soooomewhat less scary and murdery than canonverse godstiel because no leviathans, so you know, not as many angel purges or massacres on earth. and he probably went and fixed sam’s wall within about three days because cas is prideful but he does NOT like it when dean is mad at him. so they did kiss and make up, and so this cas would have had dean to act as his morality chain. but he’s still very scary and godstiel. and also he refers to dean as “The Beloved” you know. his purpose is to freak everyone out, because he’s scary, but also, for the past cas-es, because he is a terrifying abomination that they could never imagine becoming, for the future cas-es, because he is a reminder of their worst selves, and for dean, because he is a reminder of how dangerous cas is, but also because he uh. obviously has some feelings about his dean. unclear if they are consummated or not.

- a cas who naomi never rescued from purgatory, and who stayed there. hasn't spoken to another being in half a decade, has not recovered from his emotionally destroyed state in purgatory in s8. believes at first that the spell is his dean rescuing him, and is crushed when he realizes he was wrong. like endverse cas, his purpose is to show dean how much cas needs him and depends on him emotionally, and how he (dean) is capable of destroying cas, as well as his guilt for leaving him in purgatory and how lucky he is that his cas got out. this is especially noteworthy since the guilt for leaving cas in purgatory is part of the reason dean is trying to get cas back.

- a cas who stayed human after season nine, and has built himself a small human life over the next four years. he has a job and an apartment and friends outside the winchesters and yes, he still goes hunting after work sometimes, and he's still in contact with dean, but he is also independent in a way no other version of cas has ever been. he exists to freak out dean because dean has never seen cas independent of him. he is also fairly bitter at dean since dean did kind of stop spending time with him when he was no longer useful, and our dean feels guilty for that.

- a cas who showed up twenty minutes later in 10x03, finding sam dead and dean gone, and had to chase down demon dean, and has now spent three years following demon dean around as his tragically adoring stalker, because he hasn't found a way to resurrect sam yet and he doesn't want to put dean through the demon cure until he can save sam because he doesn't want dean to experience that guilt, but he also adores dean and wants to keep an eye on him and keep him safe and also keep him from doing anything too heinous, so he just covertly follows him around the country and watches from a distance as he commits various murders and fucks his way through every local bar scene. and occasionally cas finds dean something to kill, when the mark gets hungry, and drops it in his path. his purpose is to freak dean out with the lengths cas would go for him, and the depths cas would sink to.

anyway. lebanon cas and season four cas are horrified and perhaps disgusted (lebanon cas more than s4 cas) by ALL of the later cas-es, and how far they’re fallen, all of it for dean. godstiel and archangel cas being abominations, endverse cas and s9 cas being fallen, even purgatory cas and demon dean’s cas for their total dependence on dean.

purgatory cas and endverse cas are just happy to see a dean, even if it’s not their dean. demon dean’s cas, too, in a way. he’s happy to see a dean who is still human, who he can still have as a friend.

human cas is pissed to see that he was right, that dean would have stuck by him if he’d still had his powers, that this version of dean is doing spells to try and bring his cas, who is still an angel, back, whereas he and his dean only see each other once every couple months.

everyone is terrified and disgusted by godstiel, as i said before.

they’re mostly kind of thrown by archangel cas. a lot of them are jealous. godstiel is furious because how dare anyone, even an alternate version of himself, take dean as a vessel (even if dean likes it). godstiel isn’t really there, though, he resisted the summoning and just sort of popped his head through to see what was going on, and he goes back to his own reality pretty fast without murdering anyone.

also to be clear dean has not at this point examined or acknowledged any feelings he may have about his cas besides “friendship,” nor has he wondered what feelings his cas may have for him. given how many of the cas-es were clearly in some kind of relationship with their dean (endverse cas, archangel cas) or just openly in love with their dean (godstiel, purgatory cas, demon dean’s cas), dean is forced to reevaluate the nature of his and cas’ relationship.

#spn #asks #anonymous

530 notes · View notes

inkskinned · 4 years

Text

When the honey showed up, we all just took it inside. That was one of the things about it - it was always a little warm, always in the same simple jar and the nice plaid bow. Handmade-like. Most of us put it in our pantries or in the back of our cabinets, some put it in the fridge. we just thought to ourselves: gee, what a wonderful present.

I don’t know how long it took before we all had one. For a while, the most that would happen was two-minute feel-good op ed pieces in local newspapers. People would run little letters to the editor to find out the “culprit”. Sometimes there were faux-serious “investigations” when that parent freaked out about the possibility of drugs in honey. Most of the time, it ended quickly. After all, it was a nice gift from a neighbor, and it was yours. that was another thing. A house could be 122 people, and we’d all find our own jar on the doorstep, one at a time. we would know when it was ours and when it wasn’t, no matter how alike they looked. nobody ate it, at first. It was yours, and you wouldn’t eat it, and you couldn’t eat another person’s. it just wasn’t done. and the thing is - in that imaginary house, of 122 people? we’d all buy other honey. it was both there and took up space - but none of us thought of it as actually existing. we’d put down our storebought honey right next to it and think - why did i buy another? i’ve wanted to try this one for a while. and then the thought would simply be out of our head, because this is our third bag of baby carrots we have bought to let spoil again.

it was that one person who mentioned it on youtube. actually i think it was a vimeo “urban legends” series. some person with 6 followers who deleted like instantly. but then 6 people said something similar: everyone they knew had this one specific honey story. and then 12. and then all of a sudden we all woke up to “#honeyonthedoorstep” globally trending. we all posted our pictures of our honey and called each other liars and got into discourse fights with vegans and people without a sweet tooth. In 24 hours, it was running the media. 9-at-night serious news anchors leaned over to each other and said “now john, did you hear about this?” and despite their disbelief, they’d admit: i got the honey too. I think somewhere in march. maybe around the 5th. but i never ate it or thought anything of it. i just thought - what a nice gift.

By the end of the week, there were YouTube challenges and instagram memes and a netflix miniseries in the works. Lots of people tried to eat their honey, and most who “succeeded” were deemed a hoax - but truth be told? it’s not good tv to watch someone pick up honey and say “actually it’s not ready” or something similar and just decide to go do something else. i tried once, winedrunk and thinking i could be famous because it’s just honey. and i remember thinking that exact thing - it’s not ready. i realized i needed to go do dishes, this was stupid and kind of cringey.

and people freaked out, of course. outside of the jokes were parents who were asking if their children would get a jar one day, if this was a one-time thing. there were so many conspiracy theories the government finally had to say something (not that any of us were actually listening), there were massive hunts to find “the team of honey dispatchers”, there were plenty of false confessions, there were rallies to destroy the things. i don’t know if anyone actually did, because in the end? it was just a jar of honey, and it was yours, and it would be a shame to throw it at the floor just because the internet told you so. I moved three times that year - grad school, job, other better job. i always took mine with me. it wasn’t a real choice, it was just... like taking a plate that belonged to your grandmother, or carrying a song stuck in your head. it was just something that was going to come with, but it bore no special attention. and then back into the pantry it went.

two weeks later? we all just... moved on from talking about honey. it was in some memes, it was in BuzzFeed’s “top 5 weirdest stories (that are actually true)”, it was going to be the central plot of books and horror movies. but it wasn’t interesting, not really, anymore. it was like saying “all people need food”. it was just true, and not really changing. every consecutive conspiracy video got less likes, and by the end of the year, it was old enough to be a staple in bad stand-up comedy and in coming-of-age children’s shows.

nobody believed the first ones who ate it. the most traction that those posts got were from friends and family who barely remembered the whole fad. we all just figured it was a weird annual resurgence kind of thing.

but then people were definitely, absolutely, 100% eating their honey. i think i heard about one of my coworkers first. i didn’t know her; she was in another department. she told everyone it was very similar to “normal” honey. just a little tarter than she’d expected.

twitter was in an uproar. the honey was sweet to some. spicy to others. horrible, bitter, like a thousand stingers. it was perfect, it tasted like summer. most people said: it’s just honey, and absolutely regular.

those of us who weren’t ready were biting our fingernails for a while, going to our pantries, wondering - what the fuck do i mean it’s not ready? but it wasn’t ready.

like i said, it’s warm, always. But you just... know. one day you realize you really want honey on toast. or honey on tea, honey on a banana, just... honey. i remember opening it, but it didn’t feel like any more interesting than going to the cabinet for honey ever feels. i pour mine, usually, skipping a spoon because i’m usually too lazy. i was already in the middle of my meal before i realized - this is the honey. it’s not just a normal breakfast, it’s the breakfast, holy shit.

mine is just, you know. honey. it has a little hint of spice and sweet to it, which i actually quite like. it reminds me of this red pepper jelly my family used to get, and it makes me happy. but in the end? it’s honey. i don’t feel like i’m connected to a seventh realm. it’s good on oatmeal and bad in coffee no matter what some of you will tell me.

it’s just, you know. once you get your jar, and it’s ready, you have a little honey roughly every 24ish hours. it’s nothing absurd. it’s just honey, i mean - it’s like saying “you’re alive, so at some point, you should probably eat.” Most of us, it hasn’t really changed our schedules. it doesn’t seem to ever run out, which is good, because we’re always forgetting to check to see if we need more before we go shopping. for most of us? you don’t die if you miss a few days, even a few weeks, you don’t go crazy trying to get it back. sure, there’s weirdass cultists who worship it, but most of us just seem to think - it’s nice to have, and it’s okay to want this thing.

now, there’s some stuff out there, you know, about what it all “means”. and honestly, we all notice things. i’m not the only one who has seen that good people tend to think their honey tastes good and eat it normally. bad people tend to eat their honey frequently but hate every second of the eating. there are plenty who will snort and say “i’m a good person and i think it tastes like dirt” and plenty who will say “i’m a shit person and i think it tastes like the summer i finally kissed her”. and i don’t know, not the way i knew if it was ready, but it feels like a simple thing amidst all the messy. and it’s probably helpful that i think mine is, like most people’s, just a nice in-the-middle. i mean, the other day i heard it asked like a star sign - what’s your honey like?

there’s this one thing, though, you know. i choose to believe, because it might make me secretly happy. it’s like believing in nessie. i know realistically it’s probably just hearsay. but there’s this underground rumbling that, over time, the honey changes. just a little, every day, unnoticeable to most of us who go to work and do our best by others but still sometimes steal toilet paper. there’s these stories of people who made it rich by selling out their friends, who stole patents, who argue that others should charge for insulin - that they liked the honey, at first, but over time, it’s gone rotten. and similarly, every so often, there’s these stories of people who were normal “regular” honey people, who helped someone out of the bottom. who chose to be just a little bit better than they were the day before. who had moments of decisive kindness that changed them. they all say the same thing: since then, the honey has been amazing, and they work to keep it that way.

my grandmother and my mother were never surprised. they have this saying about bees and their secrets. my mother said to me: we have always had these tiny angels. they’re just giving us each a taste of the world we are making.

my grandmother later tells me, while watering the flowers, almost the exact same thing: they will haunt us when they go, because they keep books in their combs. and they see us giants, and no matter who we lie to? the world of bees will know.

#spilled ink #prose #short story #honey #i originally wrote this in my car while binge eating doritos happy mardi gras style #but then tumblr deleted it lmao bc i walked between 2 wifi connections #so if it sucks its bc i had to half-remember a good version

9K notes · View notes

darthkruge · 3 years

Note

Okay okay okay so imagine Reader is abducted by the separatists because she ( or nb reader ) is a very well loved member of the senate. So obviously Anakin goes to save her, but his idiot plan gets him captured as well so then it's up to Reader to talk her way out of this mess, get to her idiot boyfriend, free him and then both of them try to make it out alive. Bonus points for Obi-Wan looking very tired and sick of Anakin's ideas in the background. What do you think?

Anakin Skywalker x Fem!Reader ~ Rescue Operations?

Summary: After the Reader is captured by the Separatists, Anakin rushes to save her. When this doesn’t work out, the Reader has to get her and her boyfriend out of this mess.

Warnings: Language, whump, one scene where the Reader gets beat up, Reader is a badass, Anakin is completely in love with his badass girlfriend and we love that for him

Words: 3.8k

A/N: Catherine, my love!! I’m sorry this took me so long, I have nothing to say for myself other than my poor organization skills. But I’m obsessed with this request, I hope I did it justice <3

gif credit (x)

You groaned as you opened your eyes and attempted to shake the drowsiness that seemed to cling to your very bones. You blinked, trying to get your bearings and remember what had happened. You were preparing for your speech at the Senate, trying to pass a peace treaty between the Republic and some smaller territories that were debating joining the fight against the Separatists. You’d been fighting for support for the treaty for months and you finally had the chance to give one last speech before the vote.

You’d been pacing in your Coruscant apartment, practicing the speech for your boyfriend a million times. After you finished your recitation, you exited the room, needing to get your notes that you’d seemed to misplace. So you went into your office and… nothing.

Why couldn’t you remember after that?! You opened the door to your office, walked inside, and…

You sighed as you came back to the present, leaning against the wall behind you and looking around. You were clearly in a cell of some sort and the Separatists were almost certainly behind this. You were still in your Senate attire, although it had been thoroughly scuffed up, and they’d taken your datapad and other communication devices. You felt around your boot and smiled. Your knife was still there. They must have assumed you wouldn’t be carrying a weapon to your speech and not done a thorough enough check. Whatever the reason, you were thanking the Maker it was still there.

Back in Coruscant, Anakin was walking the Temple halls in a crazed state. When you didn’t show up for your speech, he immediately panicked. He knew how important this treaty was for you and the entire Republic; you’d been going over it for forever and there is no way you’d just blow it off without telling anyone. The rest of the Senate was also concerned. You’d grown up in one of the poorer districts and, thus, had a sense of relatability and humility that most were drawn to. Whether or not they agreed with your policies, almost everyone could understand that you always kept the interest of the people at the forefront of your mind.

When Obi-Wan walked up to him with a ripped piece of your clothes and your scattered and crumpled notes, Anakin felt his heart drop.

“It was the Separatists. They must have knocked her out in her office and escaped through the vents.”

Upon seeing his absolutely heartbroken expression, Obi-Wan added, “We’ll get her back, Anakin. I promise.”

Anakin could only nod, ideas for a plan to save you already running round his head.

You’d been in this kriffing cell for four days now. Or maybe it was five? You were desperately trying to keep your wits about you but it was so hard; they brought you a tiny ration of food and water once a day and it was not near enough to keep your strength up. You’d spent your time trying to carve your way through the bars but your knife was no match and you quickly gave up, not wanting to dull the blade. You’d found a loose brick hidden around the floor and used the knife to cut it out, allowing you to hide your weapon under it on the off chance they searched you again.

You tried to think of a plan to escape but they hadn’t even opened your door yet. There was no way you could get out by yourself and, until someone came in that you could attack, it was pointless to even try. They kept you in complete darkness and silence, no way to tell how much time had passed aside from the daily rations. You assumed you were on a Separatist base but that proved unhelpful; they were widespread and the cell held no defining features of climate or location. You had tried calling out to see if anyone else was around. Each time, you were met with your own echo.

You stilled, hearing footsteps approach you. A Separatist guard opened your cell door, roughly pulling you out. You yelped, legs not cooperating after so long of sitting in the cramped cell. He led you into another room that was barely brighter than your own. Sizing up the guard, you felt fear creep in. No matter how hard you tried to banish your anxieties, knowing they’d only serve to lessen your already shaken focus, it was sometimes impossible.

“Tell us which planets are deserting.” He commanded.

You met his stare evenly, refusing to let your fear betray you. There was absolutely no chance you’d tell him anything. As soon as the Separatists learned which planets were thinking about joining the Republic, they’d send armies to wipe them out immediately. You refused to let that happen.

“Fine. Be that way.” The man pulled his fist back and sent it into your cheek, the impact sending sparks of pain throughout your entire body. He brought his foot up, kicking you in the gut and you fell harshly onto the floor. He grabbed you by your hair, hoisting up your body as if it were a ragdoll. You gathered your strength and spit in his face, enjoying the way his smug look disappeared. In retaliation, he slammed you into the wall, the impact making stars cloud your vision.

The man released you and you fell, your consciousness already starting to detach from your body. You tried to reason with yourself, hoping logic would aid you. This is a trauma response. I’m not going to die. My body can take this. I will black out, but I will wake up again. They’re not going to kill me. They need me alive. I’m not going to die. I’m not going to die. Somehow, the hardest part is this was banishing the thoughts of that beautiful boy from your head. You knew that if you allowed yourself to think of him, to fathom how he would blame himself should this be your end, you would give in.

Instead, you focussed on the physical pain you felt, on the rage you channeled to this guard. You hated how weak you felt, how exhausted you were. You allowed your mind to hone in on all the ways you could hurt this man, given you had your full strength. You let yourself hate yourself, appalled at how you couldn’t even fight back. With every punch he threw at you, you went further into your head, into the one place this man couldn’t touch. Eventually, your mind started spinning from dehydration, pain, and overexertion. All you could do was curl into a fetal position and hope it somehow stopped.

“What do you mean you’re going to find her?” Obi-Wan said, running after Anakin.

“It’s been days, Obi-Wan, days. There are only so many Separatist bases in the galaxy and Y/N’s on one of them.”

“Anakin, don’t you think they’ve planned for a rescue mission?! This is Senator L/N we’re talking about! And they took her right before the vote, this was clearly a thought-out attack, stop acting like it’s simple!”

“It is simple! Those Separatist assholes have Y/N. And it’s been days. What if she thinks we forgot about her? What if she thinks we’ve given up? They could be doing fucking anything to her and I’m not going to let her stay there for another minute!”

“Anakin-” Obi-Wan began but Anakin waved him off.

“I’m sorry, Master. But if the Council won’t do anything, I will.”

“Anakin, the Council is trying! They just don’t have enough troops right now to send a full rescue mission after one Senator. They just want a few more days, then some troops should be back from their missions and you can have your full battalion.” Obi-Wan took a breath and lowered his voice, empathy for his friend clear in his words. “I know you love her. I want her back, too, you know. I’ve grown quite fond of her; her friendship is quite dear to me. All I’m asking is you be careful and think this through.”

“Believe me, I have thought this through. I wouldn’t do anything to put her in danger, we both know that. And while a few days doesn’t seem like much to the Council, we’ve seen the harm these Separatists can inflict in far less. Listen, it might not be the strongest plan I’ve ever made but, if it’s between a semi-formed plan and none at all, the choice is already made.”

With that, Anakin jumped into his ship and took off into the night. Obi-Wan sighed, leaning his head into his palm. He knew how much you meant to him and he knew of Anakin’s frustration with the Council. They moved slowly, wanting to figure out every angle before jumping into a decision. While Anakin was a brilliant strategist, he tended to act impulsively when someone he loved was in danger. As Anakin traveled further and further from Coruscant, the older Jedi could only hope that the both of you returned home quickly and safely.

Anakin looked at his ship’s display and cursed when he realized he was low on fuel. He’d been piloting for hours and there was still no sign of you. He was searching out for you with the Force and, still, nothing. Finally, he felt a faint energy pulse through the Force. He followed it to what was supposed to be an old abandoned Separatist base, concerned by how weak your lifeforce felt.

He parked the ship and got out carefully, trying not to alert anyone to his presence. He pulled out his lightsaber but was careful not to ignite it. He saw an open door and ran through it, relief blinding him as he felt your energy grow stronger with each step he took. He turned the corner and saw a crumpled body on the floor of a tiny cell.

No, Anakin thought, it can’t be her.

Without thinking, Anakin ignited his lightsaber, wanting to use the light to discern if the figure was truly you. The noise bounced off the walls and startled you awake. He mentally cursed himself and instinctively turned off the saber, not missing the even louder noise it made with it turned off. He inwardly facepalmed, realizing if he hadn’t alerted the guards before, they sure as hell knew now.

You blinked groggily, wincing at your immense injuries and bruises. You remembered passing out while that asshole beat you and now you-

Wait, You thought, is that a fucking lightsaber?

You knew you must have heard it wrong, there’s no way the Council would have approved a relief mission this quickly. Further, there is no way it would consist of just one Jedi.

Suddenly, the lightsaber re-lit, illuminating your boyfriend’s face. His determined expression grew stronger as he noticed the 10 guards surrounding him and pointing their blasters directly at his head. You smiled. He could take out ten guards with his eyes closed. You called to him in shock, hardly believing your eyes. He looked at you and immediately widened his eyes as he saw a guard come up behind you and point a blaster directly at you from outside your cell.

“Lightsaber on the floor, Jedi, or the girl dies.” The guard growled.

He looked at you in anguish and you could tell he was already beating himself up for “messing up” your escape plan. You shook your head, hoping he understood your message: this isn’t your fault.

“Anakin don’t-” You couldn’t even finish the sentence before his weapon was on the floor. He put his hands on his head. As they grabbed him, you stood in helpless silence as they threw him in the cell beside you. They locked the doors and, once again, you were in darkness.

You desperately crawled to the edge of your cell, trying to reach out to him. He was doing the same and when you felt his fingertips against yours, you almost started sobbing. You weren’t alone anymore.

“You came for me.” Your voice was soft, disbelief lacing your words.

“Of course I did, my love.”

Then, as if everything finally registered in your brain, you reached out and tried to slap his arm. “Anakin, what about the Council? They’ll kill you when they realize you went on a rescue mission, alone, and without approval! Ani, the only thing keeping me going in here was knowing that you were safe! And now you’ve gotten yourself thrown right next to me, no weapons, no light, no food, no water, no escape! What the fuck are we going to do?!”

Anakin had opened and closed his mouth multiple times throughout your speech, trying to find a way to plead his case but was left without one.

“I just wanted to save you.” The grief in his voice made you sigh and take a step back. This was your Anakin you were talking about. Your safety was his priority, always. Besides, doing all this because he was afraid for you? You couldn’t possibly stay mad. You smiled, despite yourself. Anakin. You thought, slightly shaking your head.

“Fuck, I love you. Is it selfish that there’s a small part of me that’s glad you’re here with me?” You said, breaking the silence.

Anakin breathed out a sigh of relief, glad you weren’t upset with him anymore. “Not at all, my love. So long as it isn’t bad that my least favorite part of this is not being able to see or kiss you properly because of this damn darkness.”

You chuckled, lacing your fingers with his once again. “You wouldn’t want to see me right now.”

Anakin froze. “Y/N? What are you talking about?” His voice was serious, clipped. He knew you would try and make it seem less than it was. You winced, realizing there was no way to lie your way out of this one.

“Just what the Separatists would call aggressive negotiations, I presume.”

“How bad?”

“It’s fine, Ani, I promise. Let’s just focus on getting out of here, okay?”

Anakin took a deep breath, collecting himself. “Alright. But as soon as we get back you’re going to a medical droid.”

You groaned. “Anakin I hate-”

“I know you hate the medical droids. But that’s only because they always rat you out when you try and lie to me about the extensiveness of your injuries.”

“You lie about how bad your injuries are, too! Remember that one time you came back from Kamino?!”

Anakin laughed, despite himself. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“You were literally bleeding from the head! And you said, and I quote, ‘it’s just a scratch’” Every time you thought back to that day, you were incredulous.

“Alright, alright! Let’s just focus on getting out of here.”

“That’s my line!”

“Y/N,” He warned.

You smiled. Maker, you missed him. You honestly didn’t think that anyone else would have you laughing while you were beaten and captured.

“Okay. What’s the plan?” Anakin said, back to the matter at hand.

You lowered your voice, leaning toward his cell so you could talk without being heard. “I snuck a knife in with me and I’ve been able to keep it a secret. Now that you’re here, it might actually come in handy. The problem was that I couldn’t stab anyone because no one would come into the cell. I need you to get them here. Push them against the side of your cell, the one closest to me, and I’ll stab them. Then while they’re hurt, you run out, unlatch my cell, and we’ll go.”

“I’m dating a fucking genius!” You could just about hear the smile in his voice.

You smirked. All things considered, you were pretty proud of yourself.

“When do you want to do this?”

“They bring daily food and water rations in the morning, I think? I can’t exactly tell what time it is, they’ve kept it so dark and isolated. Regardless, the next time they come by I need you to get them in here. They normally just leave the food outside and push it under the door.”

Anakin could hear the disorientation in your words and wanted nothing more than to be able to see you, to be able to hold you and reassure you that it would all be alright.

“Okay, angel. Got it.”

“Anakin?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for coming to get me. It’s really good to hear your voice.”

“Always, my love.”

Both of you silenced when you heard those footsteps. You smiled for the first time as you heard them. We’re going to get out of here.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea, Y/N! This brick in here is loose!” Anakin announced loudly. You bit your cheek to suppress a smile as you watched Anakin catch the guard’s attention.

“What did you say, Jedi?!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Anakin responded, dramatically feigning innocence.

The guard huffed and you internally cheered as he roughly opened the door. He walked over to your boyfriend, keeping the blaster pointed at him. As soon as the guard’s attention shifted to the “loose” brick, Anakin used the force to knock the blaster out of his hand and push him against the wall of the cell where you slashed his Achilles tendons.

The guard howled in pain and you knew you had to work quickly if you were to get out of here before the rest of the Separatists found you. Anakin fumbled with the latch on your cell, the immense darkness making it difficult. Finally, he got it open and ushered you out. The both of you took off in a run and he gripped your hand with his metal one as you did so.

You immediately stopped as you felt his hand roughly pulled from yours.

“We’ve got you now, Skywalker” The guard said.

“Y/N, you ready?”

You blinked, unsure what he was referring to. Then, you heard an object whipping through the air and on instinct shot your hand out, catching it. You ignited Anakin’s lightsaber that he had summoned to you with the Force, it’s signature buzz making you feel powerful beyond words.

The light caught you off guard and you squinted until your eyes adjusted. You saw Anakin held back by two guards. Hearing faint footsteps, you took off in a run. Anakin ducked as you swung wildly, hitting and taking out both guards.

“You done holding us up?” You said, extending your hand toward him once more and passing him his lightsaber.

Anakin smiled, accepting it. “My sincerest apologies.”

You both ran, hand-in-hand, until you finally made it to the exit.

“What?” You said, as Anakin stopped abruptly and looked at you, panicked.

“The ship! It’s out of fuel!”

“It’s what?!”

“I-” Anakin and you stared at each other, flickers of doubt coming into your gaze. You can’t believe that you’d been able to escape for nothing.

“Anakin! Y/N!”

You whipped your head around at the sound and were met with another ship a few meters down, Obi-Wan piloting it.

“Well? Are you coming, or what?” You and Anakin looked at each other in shock before taking off in a sprint, one guard now close behind you.

He started shooting and Anakin pulled out his lightsaber, deflecting some of the shots. As he focused on that, you pulled your knife back out of your boot and sent it flying into the guard’s chest, effectively stopping his pursuit.

Anakin smirked at you, awestruck. You shrugged before jumping into the ship, extending your arm to Anakin and helping to pull him up with you. You entered and immediately leaned against the wall of the ship, relief coursing through you. You laughed and Anakin joined in. He immediately pulled you into him, kissing you hard.

He broke away from the kiss, looking at you with adoration. “You are a fucking badass!! You’ve never even held a lightsaber and between that and your fucking tiny knife you took out four guards!! I didn’t even get any! I’m not going to lie, Y/N, I’m a bit jealous.”

You laughed, leaning into him but wincing. As the adrenaline wore off, your pain was suddenly quite palpable. He noticed and pulled back, scanning your face and body.

His smile fell as the extent of your injuries sunk in. Your busted cheek, scratched face, and ripped clothing that exposed some of your many bruises across your torso and limbs were overwhelming.

“You kids alright in there?” Obi-Wan said, walking in from the cockpit. His smile died on his face as well as he took in your form.

“I’m alright, guys. It’s not as bad as it looks.” You said dismissively.

“That doesn’t look like nothing!” Anakin shot back.

Obi-Wan looked at you apologetically. “Anakin’s right, Y/N. Please, rest. We’ll be back to Coruscant soon.”

Coruscant! The Senate! “My speech!! Fuck, I had to present my speech! I’ve been gone, what, a week? They’ve probably already voted, Kriff.”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “They decided to suspend the vote until you were back, Senator. They truly care for you and your policies.”

Your heart swelled at Obi-Wan’s words. You looked into Anakin’s eyes and saw that he agreed with the statement full heartedly. He took your hand and gently ran his thumb up and down its back.

“Rest, my love.” He whispered to you, coaxing you to lie down on the coach and pulling off his Jedi cloak. He wrapped it around you as a makeshift blanket, smiling as you pulled it closer to you and drifted off.

Obi-Wan walked up to Anakin and placed his hand on his shoulder. “Let’s leave her be, okay?”

“I don’t want her to wake up when I’m not here.”

The elder Jedi nodded in understanding. “She’s exhausted, she won’t awaken until we get back to the temple, I assure you. And if she does, you’ll just be in the other room.”

Anakin looked at you once more before smoothing the hair back from your face and gently placing a kiss on your forehead. He let his palm run down your cheek before he finally pulled himself away and walked into the cockpit with Obi-Wan.

“So, how did you plan pan out?”

Anakin looked at his former Master, unamused. “I think you already know. How’d you know to come get us, anyway?”

“Well, when you didn’t come back or even attempt to contact the Council for over a day I assumed something had happened. I tracked your ship.”

Anakin nodded. “If not for Y/N, we’d probably both be dead.”

Obi-Wan laughed. “I heard! Four guards?! You’ve found yourself a good one.”

Anakin smiled. No words were needed, everyone knew that was completely and utterly true.

------

if you would like to join my taglist, it is linked on my pinned! please dm me if you would like to be taken off. if your username is crossed out, it is because, for some reason, i couldn’t tag you <3

general tags:

@saltybreaddream @buckysbeloved @lolquarth

anakin tags:

@anakinswhore @kennedywxlsh @coldlilheart @adamgetawaydriver @chokemeanakin @gayidioot @starwars-whore @katelynnwrites @haydens-moles @serpntines @anakinlove @rowley-with-ackerman @dexthtoyounglings @babykinskywalker @cluelessgurl @april-showers-and-flowers @astxrias @beiroviski @captainshazamerica @alyssa-skywalker

#megan writes #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagines #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin x reader #anakin imagines #anakin x you #anakin x y/n #anakin skywalker x fem!reader #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin x fem!reader #anakin x female reader #anakin whump #anakin fluff #anakin skywalker whump #anakin skywalker fluff #request

509 notes · View notes

makeste · 3 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 300: Days of Our Todorokis

Previously on BnHA: Hawks was all “hey Jeanist, wanna go on a road trip with me to my mom’s house?” Jeanist was all “you know it,” and so they hopped into Jeanist’s jercedes and took off. Hawks took a nap and had a flashback to his Dickensian childhood living in a abject poverty with his jerk mom and jerk dad, thinking heroes were make-believe until one day Endeavor arrested his dad and Baby Hawks was all “OH SHIT.” And then he saved a bunch of people, and the HPSC was all “what do we have here,” and blah blah blah, you know the rest. Back in the present, Hawks was all “well my life is currently in shambles, but on the plus side there’s no one bossing me around anymore so that’s pretty cool,” and then decided he was going to talk to Endeavor. Fandom was all “I can’t believe Hawks would side with his childhood hero over the man who burned his wings off and posted a video calling him a violent murderer who took after his abusive dad,” so that was fun and stuff. I can’t wait to see what piping fresh takes this new chapter will bring.

Today on BnHA: Our old friend Carbonation Carl tries to loot a Starbucks and gets his ass kicked by a senior citizen. Society is all “YEAH, WE’RE REALLY STARTING TO GET SICK OF THIS SHIT.” Old Man Samurai is all “this room won’t stop me because I can’t read it” and abruptly decides to retire, which, fun fact, is literally THE LEAST HELPFUL THING ANYONE HAS EVER DONE. Anyway so then a bunch of other punkasses follow suit, and while I won’t say that I’m actually starting to root for Stain to kill some peeps, just for the record I’m not not saying that either. Back in the hospital, Endeavor cries some tears because his life sucks, and then is confronted by his entire family, LED BY QUEEN REI, FIRST OF HER NAME, BACK IN BUSINESS AND LARGE AND IN CHARGE. Rei is all “fuck feeling sorry for yourself, we have a rogue Murder Son on the loose” and I swear to god I have never felt so alive.

so here we go! and just for the record, even though the last two chapters have been phenomenal, I don’t necessarily have any sky-high expectations for chapter 300, mostly because chapters 100 and 200 consisted of Mei Boobs, and Toadette and her horrific quirk lmao. so go ahead Horikoshi, what are you gonna pull out of your hat for this one

oh, back to this stuff again. sob

I guess there was only so much time we could spend having hospital antics and exploring Hawks’s past before we got back to dealing with the whole “the world has gone to absolute shit” issue huh, lol

omg

what’s with these bizarrely cute Noumus. why do I want to pet them

so the narrative text is going on about how people have been super paranoid about the Noumu ever since the USJ incident a year ago. so yeah, I guess the fact that there are now a bunch of them confirmed to be running around is really freaking people out even on top of everything else

wtf is happening here

what did this poor lil glass ever do to anyone. r.i.p.

OH MY FUCKING GOD

SODA SAM IS BACK ON THE LAM

tsk tsk tsk. my man has graduated from snatching purses to raiding cafes. going after that big money. this man has no business sense whatsoever lmao

OH BUT WATCH IT NOW!!

OH SNAP THE PEOPLE ARE FIGHTING BACK. WHATCHA GONNA DO NOW SAM

THIS MAN IS 172 YEARS OLD AND HE’S NOT HERE TO PLAY GAMES!!

WTF IS HE LIGHTING THIS THING ON FIRE OR SOME SHIT. GETTEM GRANDPA YEAHHHH HE’S CHARGING AT EM YEAHHHHHH

lmao so that was fun. and now we’re cutting to Wash!! omg. look at him

he’s so dedicated. too bad you don’t have a car like Best Jeanist. probably takes a while when you’re just running everywhere

you see?? you were too slow!!

NOOOO, GRANDPA. he defeated Pepsi Pete, but lost his life in the process. this is too tragic

anyway so the good news is that the cafe has been saved! but the bad news is, there really isn’t much of a cafe left. huh. I guess that’s one of the reasons why people are supposed to get a license to use their quirks like this

oh snap and now everyone is coming outside, and they’re none too happy to see poor old Wash over here

seriously Wash, get a bicycle or something. also the way this guy is gesturing so dramatically with his hand in this sort of “YOU SEE!! YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENS!!” manner is sending me

OH MY GOD

HE SPEAKS. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS. IT MEANS JEANS PUNS ARE YESTERDAY’S NEWS, FOLKS!! MAKE WAY FOR THE LAUNDRY PUNS. CAN’T WAIT TO WATCH THIS ALL... UNFOLD

“the heroes had dwindled away” okay real talk you guys, it is literally only a matter of time before they press-gang the children into picking up their slack. I still don’t know how to feel about that, but it is happening one way or the other regardless. Child Soldiers 2 Electric Boogaloo. wonder if we’ll see a rise in vigilante action as well

OHO WHAT’S THIS? THIS IS A CHAPTER OF GRANDPAS HUH

-- no fucking way

WOW. WOW. WOWWWWWW

wow. so he didn’t do a fucking thing while the rest of the top ten were being turned into red mist in the previous arc, and now that it’s all over and they need his help more than ever, he decides... THAT IT’S TIME TO RETIRE. holy shit. “fuck you” doesn’t even begin to cover it my guy. you stand there and soak up those boos you coward

ohhhhhhh shiiiiit you guys. oh shit

the “I am not here” breaks my fucking heart for real though y’all. oh man. everything he worked for is gone just like that

(ETA: okay so a couple of the takes I’ve seen on this make it seem like All Might is somehow the bad guy here?? “this is what happens when society puts a bunch of glorified cops on a pedestal”, “finally the cracks in hero society are showing”, etc. etc. so, just a friendly reminder that this isn’t happening because of too much trust and a lack of critical thinking; this is happening because the villains killed all the heroes and broke a bunch of murderers out of jail. it’s happening because an organized league of terrorists succeeded in terrorizing, and so society is now understandably awash in fear and panic. like, it’s just wild to me that AFO is RIGHT FUCKING THERE, and yet week after week fandom still has their “IT’S ALL THE HEROES’ FAULT” signs still up on their lawns. BUT WHATEVER, MOVING ON.)

also though, so exactly how much time is passing here now? I wanted to go straight back to the hospital and see what happens with Deku and the Todorokis. please don’t tell me we’re jumping ahead sob. my aaaaangst

OH SHIT

STAIN. LISTEN UP BUDDY. I KNOW WE’VE HAD OUR DIFFERENCES, AND I STILL DESPISE YOU FOR CRIPPLING TENSEI AND TRYING TO KILL MY BEST BOY TENYA. BUT AS IT HAPPENS, THERE ARE ONE OR TWO OTHER HEROES OUT THERE NOW WHO I WOULDN’T MIND YOU PAYING A VISIT I’M JUST SAYING

LOL BUT IT ACTUALLY ISN’T THIS MAN, FFFFFF

sob. yeah I was talking about Old Man Samurai actually but YEAH. HEY THERE ENJI

also is this entire hospital actually run by characters from Super Mario Bros though. first Yoshi and now this guy, come the fuck on that is not a coincidence

lmao they stuck him in another one of these cavernous creepy hospital rooms

wtf is it with Horikoshi and these giant fucking rooms lately. Kacchan’s in chapter 298, then Tomie’s colossal house furnished with like one table and a TV, and now this. and the weirdest thing about it though is that “huge space with nothing to fill it up” is like the exact opposite of what you’ll usually find in Japanese homes lol

so now Enji is just sitting there thinking things like “my head is fuzzy” and “I’m alive” lmao okay. not quite all there yet, huh. I’ll give you a minute

I’m so fucking curious as to who his first visitor is going to be omg. either way it’s going to be interesting af, and either way fandom is probably going to feel some way about it but OH WELL

okay now his thoughts are getting more coherent! and he’s remembering Touya, and feeling regret for freezing up and forcing Shouto to deal with everything instead

!!! OH HERE GOES BRACE YOURSELVES Y’ALL IT’S ABOUT TO GET SPICY

NO TOUYA PLEASE DON’T CRY HONEY NO PLEASE

ohhhhhhh man

okay, I mean I didn’t expect you to, but so instead then you’re just going to do... what? lie there and wallow in regret and self-pity for the rest of your life? son you know that’s not how we deal with our problems here in Shounen

though also, I totally do get it though. honestly, thinking on it, I probably would have been disappointed with any other response. but so this is where the rest of his family (including his adopted son) come into play now though, because like it or not they’re all in this thing together. and so friends, I am once again asking you WHO IS GOING TO BE THE ONE TO VISIT ENJI FIRST

AHHHHHHH

KRANCH!!!! OMG AND THE OTHERS ARE SO TINY NEXT TO HIM THAT I ALMOST DIDN’T SEE THEM AT FIRST. IT’S BECAUSE THEY’RE TWENTY MILES AWAY ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THIS REGULATION HOCKEY RINK OF A ROOM

holy shit I’m so excited lkjlklhlglkasdsjldfk

SDKFJLSKHLKJL

the way she has him by his collar lmaoooo. “lol nah you’re not going anywhere pal.” damn straight, siblings have to be ride or die in situations like this. banding together for survival. strength in numbers

OH MY STARS I’M JUST WARNING YOU NOW THAT I’M ABOUT TO DISSECT EVERY LAST REMAINING PANEL OF THIS CHAPTER PROBABLY YOU GUYS. WE COULD BE HERE A WHILE

love how Fuyu has absolutely no idea how to segue into THE SINGLE MOST AWKWARD CONVERSATION SHE’S EVER HAD, so she just GOES FOR IT in pure small talk mode like they’re meeting up for brunch somewhere

I KNOW IT’S A SMALL THING, BUT I APPRECIATE THAT THE FIRST THING ENJI ASKS IS WHETHER THEY’RE OKAY

lastly while I can’t wait for more of this delicious Natsu angst, I also just have to say that Enji has as much reason to cry right now as anyone on the planet. you can’t deny that being confronted by your not-dead-but-you-thought-he-was-dead son who’s all “SURPRISE DAD I GREW UP TO BE A MASS MURDERER AND I HATE YOU AND EVERYTHING IS ALL YOUR FAULT AND NOW I’M GONNA MAIM YOUR OTHER KID” with a side order of “EVERYONE HATES YOU AND SOCIETY IS CRUMBLING AND NOTHING WILL EVER BE GOOD EVER AGAIN” is enough to bum pretty much anyone out. there’s a Pagliacci the Clown joke here somewhere. BUT DOCTOR, I AM THE NUMBER ONE HERO

oh man lol he is seriously falling apart

damn. like you guys, I’m sorry, go ahead and cancel me, but I do feel compassion for the man. it’s therapeutic for me to see an abuser actually feel remorse and be truly sorry and want to change and want to make it up to his family. and it’s also compelling as fuck to read a narrative about a family that’s trying to grapple with that, because let me tell you straight up, as someone who’s done a version of that song and dance -- it is exhausting. it is a piping hot mess. it’s a gigantic mishmosh of extremely volatile emotions that all somehow all contradict one another. love, hurt, hope, anger, betrayal, resentment, attachment, longing. it’s something you can both be desperate for and also want nothing at all to do with. and attempting to portray all of that and write about it is a monumental task, and one which Horikoshi has done so, so delicately thus far, and damn but I appreciate it. anyway, so I’m here and I’m ready for my latest helping of Todoroki Fam Feels you guys

GASP

oh man. OHMANOHMANOHMAN. CAN IT REALLY BE. IS THIS THE REDEMPTION ARC OF CHAPTERS 100 AND 200???

LMAO SHE’S ALL “WE ALL FEEL BAD YOU JACKASS STOP CRYING ABOUT IT”

LAY INTO HIM REI!! SORRY ENJI YOUR PITY PARTY HAS BEEN CANCELLED IN FAVOR OF A “SO WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT” PARTY COURTESY OF QUEEN ELSA OVER HERE. THE PEOPLE TOOK A VOTE AND WE WANT LESS WHINING AND MORE ACTION

oh my god look at this lady folks

NOTE THE HAIR BLOWING IN THE NONEXISTENT WIND. NOW WE KNOW WHERE SHOUTO GOT THIS POWER FROM

(ETA: btw guys, seeing Rei handle this crisis like an absolute champ despite everything she’s been through is everything, though. I’m reminded of Hawks’s line last week about people sometimes unexpectedly finding liberation when they’re backed into a corner. like things may be shit but goddammit her kiddos need her.)

THE CHAPTER IS ALREADY ENDING SOB, IT’S ONLY A 17-PAGER THIS WEEK, BUT GODDAMN WHAT A WAY TO CLOSE

oh my god. oh my god oh my god. AND FUCK YOU HORIKOSHI FOR CUTTING IT OFF THERE sob. it’s like each week the wait for the next chapter becomes more painful. the Todofam is about to get real, and on top of that Hawks is gonna crash the party at some point down the line, and on top of that we’re still waiting for Kacchan to have his own heartfelt discussion about What The Fuck Are We Supposed To Do Next with his best friend who’s currently in a coma. all I want to do with my life is read about these three things, and all I can do is simply wait as they are portioned out in agonizing, addicting little installments every week

anyway! tune in next time as we answer the question of whether or not fandom will finally run its train of logic all the way through to its natural conclusion and somehow manage to cancel Noted Abuse Apologist Todoroki Fucking Rei. don’t act like it can’t happen. you all know nothing is sacred lol. anyways but I’m ready for anything lol, bring it

#bnha 300 #endeavor #todoroki enji #todoroki shouto #todoroki rei #all them todorokis #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #I can't believe I've done 300 of these now lol #think I'm gonna finally have to update the post index again

341 notes · View notes

panlight · 3 years

Note

i watched eclipse recently and it just made me realise how...ridiculous it was that nobody died in the newborn battle. like a couple ppl got hurt (mostly only jacob) all the newborns died (rip bree) but nobody died in a battle that was promised to be bloody..all this to say that i think breaking dawn should have been a wedding and a funeral and the funeral should have been carlisle's...none of the baby nonsense, we meet carlisle's friends because theyre all coming to town for the funeral

I suspect that she was never going to be able to bring herself to kill any of these characters in the first place, but I think, again, we're in this "writing the books out of order" territory again where even if she wanted to kill some of these characters off (and I don't think she would, see: Breaking Dawn), she can't, because she needs them all alive for her Forever Dawn/Breaking Dawn ending. They all need to be there at the non-fight with the Volturi! They can't die in the newborn battle!

And I feel like this is a big reason why we don't get ANY follow-up or follow-through with the newborn battle after Eclipse, because the books that follows was written before Eclipse existed. Sure, she went back and edited it, took out Victoria and Laurent because they were already dead, made Irina the tattle-tale, and then we-wrote the middle second with pregnant!Bella from Jacob's POV because Bella dying on the couch made for a poor narrator in terms of seeing the bigger picture. But the bulk of the story was just that original Forever Dawn that was written after Twilight. So of course there is no fallout from the newborn fight; in the original draft of the 'Dawn' story, that didn't happen. She'd have to really go back and rework the whole thing to lend that fight any weight. You'd think it would weigh on at least some of the Cullens. Esme and Carlisle were ready to adopt Bree, and this is quite possibly the first time they've ever killed another vampire. There's no lingering angst and guilt and sadness from that? It's just right into wedding planning? This didn't bring up any of Jasper's old issues? Edward and Bella have no sense of guilt about the other Cullens and wolves fighting on their behalf? They don't feel bad about all those people Victoria forcibly conscripted to her army that were then killed? Bella's biggest problem is being embarrassed when people stare at her fancy new car? Really?

Now, imagine if someone (Carlisle or Esme or Emmett or Leah or Jared or Sam or whoever) had died in the newborn battle, and how much Forever/Breaking Dawn with this fairytale forest wedding dominating the first section would either a) not work at all or b) have to be MASSIVELY rewritten to factor in everyone upset about the death(s) of whoever. She wasn't gonna do that. Everything had to stay status quo so she could keep her original ending. And I think--writing-craft wise, I'm not speaking in terms of social issues/appropriation/racism etc--this was the biggest problem with the series, that she stubbornly stuck to the original ending that existed before New Moon and Eclipse were written. It boxed her in. She couldn't actually put her characters in any real danger because she knew how this was ending already. She couldn't let Aro make a play to keep Alice and Bella in Volterra, they had to go home and plan a wedding! She couldn't kill off any of the Cullens or wolves, because they all needed to be there at the Volturi confrontation!

But yeah, killing off Carlisle would have made a ton of narrative sense. The mentor character often dies in coming-of-age stories so that the young protagonists kind of have to fly on their own. Bella and Edward are never going to really have to do that. Carlisle (and Esme) are literally always going to be there; they're immortal. SM talks about how much Bella and Edward grow up, because they get married and have a baby, but have they grown up that much? They literally can't, they're trapped in eternal teenager-dom, no matter the wedding rings and baby. Killing off Carlisle in Eclipse would have absolutely shaken the foundation of the whole story and really made E/B 'grow up.'

It also would have been a really interesting way to address the whole "do vampires have souls?" issue. Do they just cease to exist entirely when they finally are destroyed? Does their consciousness continue on in some spirit form like a ghost? Is Heaven and/or Hell open to them? It might have been an interesting to callback to Edward's "Carlisle was right" moment in New Moon where he thought he was dead and in heaven with Bella. What does Edward hear/see/feel through Carlisle's mind at the moment he dies? What does Jasper feel? What sort of future might Alice glimpse? It could have been REALLY interesting, and Carlisle, son of a preacher man with an antique cross on the wall, is obviously the character to use if you want to do it.

#asks #tw: character death

77 notes · View notes

malereader-inserts · 3 years

Text

The Night We Met

Fandom: Riverdale Pairing: Jughead Jones x Male!Reader Summary: There’s too much pain in his heart, he really wish it will go away soon. Word Count: 1,575 Request: I. Need. ANGST! (Please feed me some angst 🥺) Warning: Suicide, depression A/n: I would love more angst prompts.

Riverdale is a small place, it’s a town where everyone knows everyone.

Death is common, it’s heartbreaking, but somehow it’s always more saddening when it’s a young person, just because they had so much life to experience. Riverdale is a quiet town, really, but it was only loud because of one young lad.

Jughead Jones was very fond of this person.

You weren’t too bright that people hated to look your way, you were too good for this world. But, you were real. There wasn’t negativity in your body other than your outlook in life, you were so kind that the elderly always see you and offering your time to help them. You would help struggling students with subjects, you were an inspiration to Jughead’s side project - to tell the perfect story of you.

See, you were a soft boy. The boy who wore round glasses, oversized sweaters and baggy jeans. Sometimes, you would wear your overalls with your long shirt underneath and converse to match. You weren’t afraid to express yourself, you were too good for this world because nothing should harm you.

So, how can this happy boy kill himself?

The town mourns because this shouldn’t have happened in the first place.

The kid, you, you were supposed to go - be free. You were supposed to leave Riverdale, make it big in the big city. Make friends, make a family, expand your horizons.

You’re just a boy.

It hurts so much, to think, to feel.

Jughead hated it, your story was supposed to be making it far and yet it was ending abruptly. Jughead remembers the night you met him, it was just you and him in Pop’s diner. The neon lights illuminating your face, Jughead cannot help but feel threatened by your looks.

You sat across him, sipping a cold beverage. One leg up on the booth and your arms leaning against your knee. Jughead remembers vividly the rings you hand on your fingers, the chains around your neck - the dull brown striped sweater that seems to contrast the white collar from a shirt under it.

You two seem to hit it off that night, you were laughing at each other’s jokes, the occasional flirty remark, exchanging numbers and kept “running into each other at pop’s late at night when it’s just you and him.

“I want to write a book about you, (Y/n),” Jughead says, as you looked at him curiously, “You’re interesting.”

“Far from it, Jughead.”

He stood by your side most of the time, somehow you two formed a relationship - it was so unlikely, but it was right. Two boys just in love with each other, they see nothing but each other. Jughead adores the book he has written about you, there’s a load of wisdom sprouted from your mouth.

“People tend to forget to tell each other how much they love or miss you or need you, and even if they do remember, sometimes they're just too shy, too scared, too certain it's the wrong thing to say or the wrong timing. But it's not. It never is. Say it before it's too late. For all we know, it could all be different tomorrow.”

“It really could.”

“I could die tomorrow, and I know there will be a lot of unsaid things in the air. There will be regret.”

Jughead looks at you, “Are you okay?”

You shrugged your shoulder, there was a faint smile on your face, “I haven’t been okay for a long time,” There was a beat silence as you laugh, “I’m just kidding, Jug, I’m okay.”

Jughead wishes he didn’t believe it - but foolishly, he did.

Life continues, he recalls how happy you were, there was nothing in life that could go wrong for you. And yet, you let out your deepest feelings in the late night meet up at Pop’s.

“You know,” You sighed, leaning your head back against the window, “I’m tired of feeling-”

“Huh?”

“I’m so done with life, this life I mean. Reincarnate me to another lifetime like two hundred years from now, maybe it’ll be better.”

“That is if climate change hasn’t taken us already,” Jughead say as you chuckle softly, “Maybe we’ll have robots.”

“Maybe, they’ll lower the age of drinking.”

There you go, joking again, as if you haven’t accidentally got to deep in your feelings. Jughead remembers how you were, and now he cringes. It’s all there, the signs of calling for help - right in front of him. And, he brushed it off because he thinks you’re joking.

Jughead remembers.

It hurts.

He had all, and then most of you. Some and now none of you.

He remembers how you started to drift away from him. The meetings late night started to be rare until you stopped showing up. The smile was there but it looked sort of faded. You weren’t by side as much until you were avoiding him, telling him that you were busy.

You died.

You killed yourself.

You were at peace now.

“Please...”

The wind rustles the nearby trees, it’s not cold out. In fact, the breeze was comforting in the warm day, summer was ending and autumn was starting to come about. Autumn had always been your favourite season, it was the season for staying in and the cold weather starting to nip at your nose. It’s an excuse to wear jumpers and have hot coffee.

“Please, take me back to the night we met.”

Jughead trembles, he’s on his knees as he stares at your headstone. It’s clean and fresh among those that have been forgotten over the years. Jughead doesn’t think a slab of stone fits you well, it’s just not you.

Your life could never be marked by a gravestone, something so cold and immobile. Perhaps a tree with a wind-chime in the branches could do you more justice, or a simple song sung into the wind. What lies in the ground is only flesh and blood, that's never what you were.

You were quite honestly the most beautiful spirit Jughead has ever known. he prays that you soar with the eagles on lofty breezes and swim in oceans deep; he prays that you know the freedom this life could never give you, yet most of all he prays that when his time comes it is you that takes him by the hand and you go onwards to better times together.

There are flowers for you, some that were there since you were buried, some that were new. But, your grave was never short of flowers.

“I would have done anything for them-”

“-Except save them,” Archie says behind him.

A reared as if he had been slapped. Jughead swallowed hard, eyes wide and startled before their gaze shuttered. “You have no fucking idea,” He whips around to tackle the redhead, “You don’t know (Y/n), you don’t know him like I know him. Don’t think for one second I wouldn’t have tried.”

“Juggie,” FP says softly, grabbing the boy by his shoulders, “(Y/n) wouldn’t want you to do this.”

“I’m sorry,” Archie whispered, he knows he overstepped the line - it’s a shock really, your death was sudden.

“I failed him,” Jughead says, it’s a struggle for him because he’s holding back tears, “I keep seeing his face and I can’t help think I’ve failed him.”

Guilt, too much of it.

Regret, and you were right - there are a lot of unsaid things in the air and he regrets not telling you.

“I love him.”

“He loves you too,” FP says, making Jughead look him in the eyes, “There is not a bone in (Y/n) that tells you, you were ever at fault - okay? He doesn’t want you to blame yourself.”

Going home was an empty feeling in Jughead, FP knows it will take a while for Jughead to bounce back to himself. School seems to empty without you, there isn’t someone there to wait for him at his locker; instead, there’s candles and flowers at yours. Jughead goes to sleep with the papers of your unfinished story, he goes to sleep in your sweaters.

He keeps a picture of you, always on himself. One night he stares at you, it’s been two weeks since you were buried. Your relationship with him hadn’t lasted long, three months - not once he had uttered the three words as you did to him.

“I love you,” Jughead whispers to the picture of you.

“Why didn’t you tell me that when I was alive?” Your voice questions him, he knows you’re not there, but can’t help himself to imagine you by his side.

“I was scared.”

There was silence, “Yeah, I know that feeling.”

He can’t imagine how terrified you were, in your last moments of breathing. He doesn’t want to imagine it, yet sometimes it keeps him up at night.

“Make my story ending a good one, will you?” Your voice says, there’s a tone of happiness for a second.

“I don’t know how to end it,” Jughead admits, “It wasn’t supposed to end so soon.”

“Tell them I was brave for finding peace,” Your voice softly begs, “Please, that’s how I want it to end.”

Jughead stays silent before nodding to himself; he knows he’ll be haunted by the ghost of you. But, that’s a request he can do for you - your one last wish.

“Okay,” He whispers.

Maybe, just maybe, you found peace in his word.

#jughead jones #jughead jones imagine #jughead jones x male!reader #x male reader #riverdale #riverdale x male reader #riverdale imagines #angst

440 notes · View notes