#sorry i cannot give short answers apparently

[desertfangs]

Had some thoughts after reading your recent fic

Do you think Armand and Daniel might have had a slight role reversal in terms of energy levels after Daniel was turned? When Daniel was mortal he was always getting older and more tired and finding it harder to keep up with the forever 17 year old with an immortal's boundless energy.

But when he's finally in the blood, maybe it was Armand's turn to feel like the slightly grumpy and tired 500 year old man with his hyperactive puppy of a fledgling.

I'm just picture newly turned Daniel throwing a coat around Armand's shoulders and dragging him out the door while Armand tries to suggest they have a night in, wondering if this is how Daniel felt all those years

Oh my gosh, this is a great question! (Also thank you for reading my fic!!)

I do think maybe they have a slight role reversal. Or, at the very least, their dynamic changes a little. Daniel is very high on being a vampire at first. Armand tells him, "You take a lot of teaching." He's a little overwhelmed by Daniel as a vampire, and Daniel is a little overwhelmed by heightened vampire senses, and while they are in the midst of a crisis, I do think Daniel takes some time to adapt to his vampire senses and abilities. I think Armand is fantastic maker and teacher, and Daniel is lucky to have not only him there but also so many others who can give him tips and tricks and also tell him stories about when they first turned.

(I will say I don't think Daniel is particularly an outlier. It might be an unpopular opinion, but I think his reaction to vampirism is pretty standard, especially given how potent Armand's blood is. We don't get a lot of him as a vampire until we see him again mad in Marius' house, but I've mentioned before I don't think it was being overwhelmed by vampirism that did him in, but rather Armand's apparent death drove him mad.)

But yes, once Daniel has the blood and is a vampire, he's no longer being run ragged by trying to keep up with Armand. And he's also no longer burdened with the knowledge of his own aging and death. I am older than Daniel was when he was turned, and I can tell you as you get older, your body DOES WEIRD SHIT. Stuff stops working as well. And I'm not even THAT OLD. But like... imagine living with Armand, ageless and turned at 17, while Daniel keeps finding more gray hairs or new lines on his face or he can't move his left arm one night because he slept on it funny - that had to have to weighed heavily on him. So I think it was just the sword of Damocles, over him all the time in those last couple of years, and no matter how hard he tried to ignore it and push it back, it was hanging above him ready to fall.

So Daniel is lighter and unburdened as a vampire. He's ready to live forever with Armand. And Armand is absolutely proud of him and still loves him, of course, but Armand is a fatalist who starts to worry about when things will fall apart. I don't think that fear becomes too pronounced until later and I don't think he starts subconsciously pushing Daniel away for years yet, but it's in the back of his mind that Daniel may not need or want him anymore one day.

So in that respect their roles have changed. Daniel probably is excited to go travel or see some show or just go to Miami and walk around and shoot the shit and talk about the drunks stumbling past and all the tourists running around. He wants to go see and do everything now that he can do it without stressing about the lines on his face when he catches his reelection. He's excitable and hyper and like... I don't know how long dude is high on being a vampire, but I kind of think that initial burst probably lasts a while. And Daniel is talkative and affable and no doubt getting along with everyone.

Armand, meanwhile, is also dealing with all of his ex's in his house. So there's that to consider, too. And playing host. And running whatever business he's running on Night Island and elsewhere. (He has people! But he still needs to sign checks and papers and check in.)

So yeah, I do think a lot of '86 and '87 and maybe even '88 are more of Daniel going "Hey, boss, let's go see this thing or do this thing" and Armand being a little more... maybe not reluctant but less quick to jump on board with the idea. Not all the time. He's still Armand, he still likes to go see things and learn things! But sometimes!

I'll tell you, I think the real karma is Benji and Sybelle, wherein he has to indulge their interests and needs and suddenly Armand is there at TG remembering when he used to be the one dragging Daniel out the door as Sybelle grabs his hand and drags him to the music store or to see some concert and he's like "Ah, this must be how Daniel felt."

Thank you so much for the ask! Sorry for the long essay. TL;DR: Absolutely! LOL! I love the idea of Armand grumpily sitting in his office wondering if he can hide out and avoid being dragged to yet another rock concert with Daniel and Lestat over on the mainland for the 3rd time in a week.

#sorry i cannot give short answers apparently #i think about this a lot clearly #my brain is just this and maybe a grocery list #thank you so much for the ask!!! #i hope i'm actually answering your question #answers in the desert #anonymous #daniel molloy #armand #armand/daniel #queen of the damned #vampire daniel

[sgiandubh]

What about Grandma then? In recent days, that Barbour issue has been discussed in several corners of this fandon, as you said. Well, the day before yesterday Garance was posting stories showing off his Barbour coats...Obviously those two also follow the topics discussed on Tumblr. 🤷‍♀️

Dear Garance Anon,

You will have to forgive me for the very, very late answer. I wanted to give it my full, undivided attention, because I believe we never spoke seriously about Mrs. Mariline Fiori, aka Garance Doré.

The short answer to your comment is 'oh, but we know they do, as we know they are not the only ones'. Unlike S&C, though, the McGrandmas might see us as a free, useful toolbox of sorts, where readily available ideas congregate. Remember they have deliberately calibrated their public couple personas on exactly what SC are unable and/or unwilling to give/show this fandom. To some extent, it works and, as any good Frenchwoman, Garance understood she was savvy to play the atout charme joker card. Which is exactly what she does - also, being French, she knows exactly what type of European public is instantly attracted to the Barbour reference: a public whose wallets she needs.

But as I just said, your post made me think about Mrs. Doré. Who is she, really? So, sorry, Anon, if I use you as a springboard for my musings.

She was, as I said, born Mariline Fiori, on May 1st (same day as JAMMF, LOL) 1977, in Ajaccio, Corsica's main town and birthplace of Napoleon Bonaparte. Not a Corsican, though (same as Napoleon, LOL): Italian father, French/Algerian mom. People who left Algeria when it became independent, after the Evian Peace Accords, and whom the metropolitan French still call, to these day, 'pieds-noirs' (literally and quite derogatorily, 'black feet'). Her family's social status is, however, a bit unclear, as Mrs. Fiori successively played with her personal story in interviews, in what the French also sarcastically call 'des petits arrangements avec la vérité'/ a bit of tinkering with the truth.

In this 2019 interview to Elle UK, for example, her parents are described as owning a restaurant in Corsica (https://www.elle.com/uk/life-and-culture/a29758314/garance-dore-original-influencer/):

But in another 2013 interview to The Talks, her mother was a shrink (https://the-talks.com/interview/garance-dore/):

Also, for the sake of clarity:

Oh, well: different country, different crowd/market, different agenda and perhaps older and wiser when talking to Elle UK, you would think?

Not necessarily and still a divisive figure for the international press/blogosphere. People did not appreciate her frequent flying and luxury travels during COVID, for example, along with her 'white, bourgeois woman entitlement'. Both in New Zealand...

(Source: https://www.ensemblemagazine.co.nz/articles/garance-dore-new-zealand - I think you should read the entire article, as it is absolutely enlightening, also something I wouldn't go polemic about, you make up your own mind, really).

...and in France, where they apparently are not very fond of her 'cult of personality' approach to social media, to say the least:

(Source: https://www.madmoizelle.com/a-t-on-vraiment-besoin-de-preter-attention-aux-conseils-antivax-des-influenceuses-1145916 Non Francophones could use Google Translate, but considerably lose in doing so the ferocity of the writing - but then, again, the French press is particularly sarcastic & ferocious, when set against someone or something. I love them to bits.)

The translation is clear, and I deliberately did not insist on the political stance of the article, whose title gives a straightforward idea: 'Do we really have to pay attention to the influencers' antivax advice?':

'This influencer cannot singlehandedly convert a part of her fans to antivaxing, via Instagram, but this comforts those who already thought so and keeps them even more hooked. This is because Instagram is a social media whose model heavily relies on shared affinities, meaning that it congregates likeminded people and creates bubble phenomena, of which GD is a good example.

GD, who built an empire around her handle which she turned into a brand and transformed her own lifestyle into her best product might very well turn her cult of personality into an economic model. Many celebrities already do so and are perfectly entitled to. But in her case, we are not talking about sending a birthday personalized cameo, we are talking about dispensing health advice during a pandemic.'

Truly, Ha-wa-wee 2.0 sounds like kindergarten compared to the above and never made it so far and wide in the international press. But hey, don't we know, double standard is the law of this land.

But to cut the story short, because it's 5 AM in here and we'd be talking about Mrs. McGrandma until tomorrow evening, do we really imagine someone so well versed in the ways and means of social media not following Tumblr?

Yeah, thought so, too.

#anon #fandom #shitshow #BoozeWars

[vse-kar-vem]

joker out cooking livestream recap:

-they cooked chicken in mustard or somethjng. potatoes are in it as well

-nace's government name is, in fact, nace ! bojan thought nace's grandmother calls him ignac but no

-bojan tries to transfer the potatoes into a bigger pan. which they cannot find. they do find ANOTHER pan (disgustingly unwashed)

-jan's parents are currently taking care of igor, who has everything he needs: food. a roof over his head. cuddles if he wants. jan is not worried

-we have a short discussion about dishwashing soap. they use the original green fairy brand soap which is nace's favourite. jan doesn't have a favourite. bojan claims that WASHING HIS HANDS WITH DISH SOAP IS WHAT KEEPS THEM SOFT ("i have baby hands") ??????? APPARENTLY?????

-then jan and nace walk around the house feeling up each other/every one else's hands. bojan's hands are confirmed the softest but it's concluded that his secret is not dish soap but being a singer and not an instrumentalist (or playing an instrument badly, his words not mine)

-throughout this entire livestream jure sharpens two knives. good for him, it's very impressive (he slices grapes! and lemons! truly a resourceful kitty)

-we learn that kris is not here because he's MODELLING???? HUH???? 🫢🫢🫢

-we get an update on kamila's flowers (withering on top of the fridge. 😞)

-the connection was SO BAD im not kidding, which was why we missed out on a lot of stuff ☹️☹️ they don't have wifi and are relying SOLEY on data

-their favourite british supermarket is aldi, because it's cheap and the quality is ok. obviously they diss british produce, which like fair enough

-they sing a little ditty about their current circumstances-- shit wifi, potato cooking, etc (ft. NACE'S SINGING VOICE!!) honestly it was highkey a banger

-they answer some questions ie. "drop hints" about the new song. we get 2 rhythms and one singular chord

-they decide do an mtv cribs (tiktok cribs) style house tour which would be GREAT if anything would load 😐😐 so we ended up with a very very cut-up fridge tour (they have at least 2-3 cartons of milk and slovenian sausage (?). also oyster sauce

-the stream REALLY starts lagging here (as if it wasn't already). ok me personally i only caught "-- doesn't want us to go in his room" (about jure or kris??) jan and nace consider going into bojan's. then extended lag on a very ominous staircase. no rooms seen by me at least 😞😞

-they come back down and answer more qs! that i don't remember! sorry this recap was for me and not you 😞

-oh yeah they get asked "who cleans the kitchen?" a beat. jan and nace both laugh "yeah, who cleans the kitchen??" i think that says a lot about this household

-they talk a bit more about the song-- will give you (uncle roger voice) eMoTionaL dAmAgE. that hurt my soul to write but at least i (cantonese) am allowed to do the accent, unlike SOMEONE ELSE ON THIS LIVESTREAM (thanks bojan. at least you were shit at it enough so that it came off just slightly interesting and not anything else)

-that's all i can remember!! bojan finishes cooking, jan and nace sign off to eat. prolonged minute of staring and waving at the camera. i notice they are both very beautiful men. end of stream !

#bojan cvjetićanin #joker out #jan peteh #nace jordan #jure maček #i love yapping #ALSO tell me why their apartment of grown ass men has the same kitchen hygiene as my food tech class last year of 14 year olds 😭😭😭😭 #takes me back to my bench mate telling me there's no need to dump the sink filter and straight pushing bits of food through it with a knife #🤠 #vee rambles

[weepinwriter]

ZHENYA ‘PSIKH’ BOGDANOV

(pardon the terrible lighting 😔)

Codename : Nyx, named after the primordial greek goddess of the night (yeah it's a feminine name, but does Zhenya give a damn? Hell no)

Nickname : His friends and family members know him simply as Zhen, otherwise in the underworld he is better known as Psikh Bogdanov, or the madman as some prefer to call him for simplicity

[ 20 || 6'1" || cis-male || demisexual || in a relationship with Ash and Rin ]

Appearance : Short midnight black hair, and emerald green eyes

His stats

(dudes here ready to go full on doomslayer on his enemies)

Some facts about him:

~ He likes smoking, and that too the best quality cigars

~ As a child Zhenya wanted to be a writer, maybe even a journalist. He liked journaling his days as a kid, writing small stories and frequently narrating details of his day with his father, uncle and Ash before the incident with his dad, following which he discontinued writing indefinitely. He never touched his little journal after that.

~ Once had a bucket list containing all the things he wanted to do as a kid. These included bungee jumping, going to the seven wonders of the world and hell, even riding an ostrich (overall he just wanted to do every crazy thing one can possibly do). One of the wishes in this list included going to Disneyland with his dad. Unfortunately it never happened and he refused to ever go there

~ is very fond of daffodils. Ash regularly buys daffodils to be put in a vase in the middle of the room where he can see them

~ he is very fond of Donna tartt's books, especially the secret history

~ during his (cringe) puberty phase, when emotions and hormones run high and teenagers become the biggest menaces alive, Zhenya had the misfortune of stumbling upon Twilight. Following that fateful encounter he became a hardcore Twilight fan, especially as a firm member Team Jacob. He even went as far as to get a wolf tattoo and got his ears pierced as a form of his teenage rebellion. Thankfully he got over his cringe phase quickly, and now everytime he thinks about it he can't help but feel embarrassed to the core. (I can say this with a guarantee that Rin tries to pull his leg every once in a while by mentioning his horrific past, just for the sake of seeing Zhenya blush furiously.)

~ also likes reading books and historical research papers on medieval punishments and torture methods, for science ofcourse he says

~ is a pretty decent cook

~ although he can only cook dishes related to chicken, Zhenya is experienced enough to debone a raw chicken blindfolded holding some of the sharpest knives ever. The countless scars on his hands and arms are a testament of his perseverance. Apparently he's ‘practising’...

~ “a balanced diet is very important.” also him, proceeds to carefully remove all the peas from his food

~ has never lost a single match of rock-paper-scissors, even against Rin. However, one cannot say the same for his terrible luck and history with UNO. My guy here can get almost all the power cards at the beginning of the game, yet somehow always manages to lose them all and be defeated brutally. It has come to the point some believe he's intentionally losing, he's not.

~ likes watching and listening to true crime podcasts

~ Zhenya has a very bad habit of smiling whenever he's lying, making it impossible for anyone to figure out when he's lying or not (except those close to him who can see the discrepancies between his real and fake smiles)

~ can hold his liquor very well. The most he can go with, is 23 shots, which is his highest record so far, until he eventually passes and wakes up to the absolute worst hangover of his life

~ will call you a moron if you were to ask him the classic “would you still love me if I was a worm?” but still answer with a yes

~ sorry no Pixie cameo this time 😔, on another note, Zhenya actually adopted Pixie from the streets when he accidentally stepped on her on his way home. Feeling guilty he brought her home and the kitten that was barely a month old became a part of his small family. Now refuses to let anyone even touch her without his permission, talk about being overprotective

MIKHAIL 'MICKI' VICTOROVICH LANG

(this is @headdaze's MC, btw all comments are made by them-)

Codename : Tisiphone (he’d probably get a kick out of the nicknames he could make– like he picks up the phone and goes “hello? This is tisiphone answeirng the phone at avengers speed-” OR EVEN BETTER “hello? Tis me, tisiphone–”)

Nickname : His close ones simply call him, Angel, meanwhile the rest just go along with Micki

[ 20 || 5'5" || agender, he/they || demisexual || working on getting Ash, will work on Rin (when they meet each other as adults which they haven’t yet LOLOLOL)]

Appearance : Slightly long brown hair, with grayish, green blue eyes

Some facts about them

~ after destroying a microwave, ruining a meal, burning a few items, and other travesties, micki resigned himself to simple dishes… no five star courses (later on Zhenya takes it upon himself to cook for Mikhail, after keeping him 6feet away from the kitchen ofcourse)

~ loves nothing more than a good book and as such gets heavily irritated when something good disappoints them

~ very pro-healthy food but still eats unhealthy

~ vision is ABSOLUTE SHIT, wears either ridiculously thick glasses or contacts

~ usually sweet but can have a scary side too (people like to call him the wolf in sheep’s clothing)

~ his dream is to go around the world, eat the things he wants, and buy the things he wants without feeling guilty about spending money

~ a MASSIVE penny pincher

~ “ZHEN CAN YOU PLEASE STOP RUINIG YOUR LUNGS WITH THOSE FUCKING BEAUTIFUL CIGARS” “No.”

~ comfy > fashion, the man is not going to strut outside on a winter day in an outfit even if he looks good in it because if it gets him a cold it is GAME OVER

~ literally cannot stay up for the life of them, alwAYS gets irritable when sleepy so prefers to get their hours of sleep in

(why is a majority of this basically just me)

IF : VENDETTA BY @vendetta-if

#if game #interactive fiction #interactive game #vendetta artworks #vendetta if #mafia #cyoa #Vendetta MC profile #ocs #superpowers #i hope you like them #will be updated

[see-arcane]

So, What the Hell is Jonathan Harker?

I’m asking honestly. Because by the end of Dracula the answer sure isn’t, ‘human.’ Nor do I think he’s a vampire. But he is something.

SPOILERS BELOW FOR THE END OF DRACULA, LOOK AWAY, YOU’VE BEEN WARNED

The whole ‘revenge makes you a monster!’ thing is only barely in play, if at all, when it comes to his part of the hunt for the Count. Van Helsing even admits he’s owed the chance at delivering the killing blow. Which he does, alongside Quincey. He gets to chop off Vlad’s head!

In one blow! With a Kukri knife! Not an axe! Not a saw blade! Just the little brother to a sword!

Which is after lifting an entire coffin, weighted by the Count and several pounds of earth, off the wagon! With his bare hands!

Which is after bulldozing through the Count’s guards, taking no damage, while Quincey Morris, the established Man’s Man and hunter/fighter takes the fatal wound!

Which is after days upon days of whetting his blade, all rictus grins and plotting, now unexplainably ‘ice-cold’ in manner and body!

Which is after having his hair turn solid white—a pallor that apparently matches his eyes, according to Seward—upon learning of Mina’s attack, deciding to join her in undeath if she cannot be cured, and proceeding to nearly fillet the Count like a fish with the Kukri!

Which is after finding sudden relief from realizing, good news, he’s not insane, but monsters from the pit of Hell are real and were, in fact, trying to exsanguinate and turn him into a bloodsucking demon for eternity! What a relief!

Which is l o o o n g after he scaled a castle wall and a vertical cliff face by his hands and bare feet, plus a nice stint of running through the Transylvanian wilderness of wolves and Brides to reach a train!

Which is all after he somehow landed the first and only lasting wound to Dracula, by way of the shovel blade scar to his forehead! A fact that is never once explained by anything in the book, despite the fact that unless that was a mystical Sacred Shovel, Jonathan managed to do the only permanent injury to Dracula without any holy assistance!

I know, I know, Mina chalks up chucking the coffin and the head-choppery as ‘a miracle.’ But our boy has showing distinctly Not Fucking Normal signs for far, far longer than the climax. 

What are they signs of? Do they ever stop to wonder after all the vampire hype is over? Because I don’t see all of these changes in physicality and mentality suddenly going poof once the Count’s gone.

By the book’s end, Jonathan Harker, not a vampire, but definitely Something Else, is just chilling as-is. Imagine going to his office for some lawyerly help, and you see this white-haired, thousand-yard staring gentleman with a bloodstained Kukri sheathed over his business attire, smiling apologetically as he gently sets down the wall-sized bookcase he was hoisting up to retrieve a lost pen, terribly sorry, give him just a moment and he’ll be right with you! :)

Like,

It is just never brought up by anybody but Seward throughout the book—not even Van Helsing mentions it! I assume it’s because they had so much going on already, but in the Epilogue phase it has to be raising so many questions that I think everyone has an unspoken agreement to just Not Point It Out Because It Is Not a Problem, It’s Fine, He’s Fine, The End

Seward, making attempt #214 to broach the topic: Professor, I’m not saying it’s…unhealthy, but Harker clearly went through some kind of metamorphosis during that time, and he’s yet to change back—

Van Helsing, halfway through his brandy: He had no ill reaction to the Cross or the Wafer. It is fine. God’s will and all that.

Seward, watching Jonathan smile a would-be mugger into submission before he can get in ten yards’ reach of Mina and Little Quincey, never blinking, while half the street’s pedestrians give the Harkers such a wide berth they’re running into the cab horses: …Sir—

Van Helsing, around his flask: It’s fine.

In short, does anybody have theories about what Mr. Harker’s whole deal is? Because our guy is neither human nor bloodsucker and Bramothy Stoker kind of just left the monster makeover implications hanging.

#in which I am deep in My Thoughts and Theories about Mr. Harker #I do actually have a solid idea of what he is/was becoming #enough that I think I'm on my way to writing a goddang book about it #but if anyone else has ideas beyond 'diet vampire' I genuinely want to know #anyway #spoilers #dracula spoilers #dracula #dracula daily #jonathan harker

[vikilinda]

A LITTLE FAVOR

pairing(s): Georgie farmer x fem!reader

Summary: Your roomie asks you for a favor that you charge him in a scene, and it ends up being the best favor of your life.

"Oh please"

"Nope!"

"You just have to put on the wig and no one will notice"

Emma, ​​your co-star and friend, begs you to cover her in a scene, the two had become friends when they were both in the final casting test, it cannot be said that both had gotten the role.

"Come on, you don't have to say any dialogue"

Emma had been begging you to cover her in a scene tomorrow, of course you had been telling her no all this time. Something interesting about both of you was how much you two looked alike, not enough to be twins but you do share quite a few similar traits.

"And why isn't Jenna covering for you!"

Jenna, who has been watching you fight Emma, ​​peacefully shakes her head as she continues to eat popcorn.

"I have scenes tomorrow, even if I wanted to I can't"

"Oh come on y/n, you're my only hope, if the scene doesn't shoot tomorrow they'll have to push everything back to January"

You deny.

"It won't be that someone is like this, it's because of her scene partner"

You quickly give Jenna a dirty look. As much as you wanted to deny it, Jenna was only telling the truth, if you accepted your scene partner, it would be Georgie, of course that wasn't the problem, the real problem came with the scene, which was a kiss between Enid and Ajax.

¡You couldn't kiss Georgie!

You and Georgie were good friends, spending almost every day on set together, even seeing each other for off-set dialogue practice quite often. But you couldn't kiss him, not after you'd tried so hard to drown out every little hint of any feeling for him.

"Is this all about Georgie? But if you guys are good- OH. MY. GOOD"

Emma, ​​who seemed to have understood the situation, looks at you with flashing eyes and open mouth. Apparently your little secret had been discovered.

"All the more reason you have to cover me tomorrow"

"I can't"

"Y/n this may be your best chance to find out if he has feelings for you."

"And in the worst case you'll have kissed your crush and you'll have the whole spring break to forget about it" Interjects Jenna.

"Oh thanks"

"Oh come on Y/n, Jenna's right, this is a win/win for you. Please"

You sigh. You were definitely going to regret this.

"Fine…i do it."

"YESS!"

Both girls jump on top of you to celebrate, the three of you end up on the ground laughing out loud.

"I'm going to regret this so much"

—

"And…Action!"

Your heart gallops when you see how Georgie finishes the short sentence of her character, your scene was the last one to shoot so when you turn around you see almost all your friends and setmates, that only makes you more nervous.

Georgie starts to get closer to you but you just freeze to the ground. Why can't you just be professional, kiss him and end this.

"Sorry"

You don't wait for an answer and you just run to the closest place you can find, of course it ends up being one of the corridors of the school set. Why couldn't you kiss him? Why did you have to run away? God, what is wrong with you!

"Hey…are you alright?"

You don't know if you are exalted by the shock of not knowing that you had someone behind your back, or by the specific British accent of that someone.

"Yeah, I just needed to get some air"

"Are you sure?"

You nod. You still had your back to Georgie but it didn't take much of a look to know that Georgie was far away from you, you felt how close her body was to yours.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

Georgie, seeing that you wouldn't turn around, he does, you look at the ground but he bends down in search of it. Georgie knew something was wrong, he knew you perfectly, you never got like that for a scene, not even that time you had to jump out of a window; So seeing you in that state he can't help but worry.

"Is it because of the number of people? Because I can tell Percy to distract them while we record"

"It's not that"

Georgie was a very patient person, very few things managed to get on his nerves, this was one of the few things. You kept looking away while giving monosyllabic answers, was he the problem? Had you been angry with him and hadn't noticed? He hadn't brushed his teeth?

Georgie takes your face in his hands and gently lifts it up so you can look into his eyes.

"Is it me? Can't you record the scene for me?"

Your lack of response confirms it. The look in his eyes kills you and makes you feel like the worst person in the world, he had only cared about you and instead you just avoid because you can't admit that it makes you so nervous that all body heat runs out of you.

"I'm sorry, I never wanted you to feel uncomfortable. It's because of the breath, right? I never should have let Percy do the shopping."

You laugh and that makes Georgie feel better at least you're not mad at him.

"You don't make me uncomfortable and your breath is fine, I swear."

"And what is it? If you don't tell me I won't be able to fix it, y/n/n"

Here you were, if you were going to take out the bandage you were going to do it in one move.

"It's just… It's just that you make me nervous"

Georgio was a poem, you didn't know if he was confused, scared or surprised. Or if he at least had understood what you wanted to say.

"I can't kiss you because every time you got closer I felt like my heart was going to explode or run away. And I couldn't tell you anything because I didn't want to damage our friendship, although from your face you may not even understand what I'm trying to tell you…"

Georgie doesn't give you time to finish when he locks your body in his arms and his chest, making sure that this time you weren't going to run away anywhere. Join your lips with his.

You were kissing Georgie! After all they had ended up kissing and you had to admit that it was much better than you had imagined. When they separate, Georgie runs her gaze over your face, smiles.

"I was the one who asked Emma to switch scenes with you."

"What?"

Your eyes widened at her confusion, a smile beginning to escape from the corner of your lips. Georgie had planned all this.

"I couldn't leave without at least trying something. Those two months would have eaten my head"

"So you convinced Emma that she'll help you?"

"It was more blackmail on her part, but let's say yes. Are you upset?"

Emotions did not fit in you, how could you be upset? Georgie had gone to all the trouble to come up with a plan and blackmail your roomie just so he could kiss you.

"Y/n?"

You don't answer, not with words at least. You take her face in your hands and kiss it. Georgie takes a few more seconds to react, but when he does, he encloses you more in his arms, letting herself be guided by the dance that guides your lips.

They both smile when they see each other.

"How about we finish filming the scene, and after what it takes to get all this blood off of us, we go on a date"

"I'm lovin 'it"

#ajax petropolus x reader #Georgie farmer x reader #georgie farmer #fanfic #fanfition #wensday #ajax

[underground-secret]

The Hunter and The Witch: Dean Winchester x Fem! reader

Description: A small town where dark secrets unfold isn’t anything new to these seasoned hunters, except when it has something to do with urban legends…apparently.

Warnings: cannon violence, mentions/talk of suicide, mentions of gruesome death, eye bleeding, Blood Mary (idk if this would be a warning but like 🤷🏼‍♀️), mentions of murder, witchy stuff

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld , @okayiamkassandra ,@fablesrose

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long to get out again my AP class is really AP-ing and has taken up literally all my time. I spent four days working on a 20 pages packet that took forever meaning I had zero time for this. Again so so sorry.

Word count: 7,719

Bloody Mary

(Masterlist, Previous Chapter, Next Chapter)

“Sam, wake up.” Dean nudges the man in question, the car in park.

Sam wakes, confused, he sits up and looks around. “I take it I was having a nightmare.”

“Yeah, another one.” Dean confirms, and I nod too a frown on my face.

“Hey, at least I got some sleep.” Sam offers

“Sam” I stretch out his name, “that cannot be your positive to this.”

“You know, sooner or later we're gonna have to talk about this.” Dean adds.

But Sam ignores us, avoids the whole conversation, “Are we here?”

Dean lets him avoid the whole ordeal and I have to wonder how long he will let his brother lie. Though I guess I'm no better. “Yup. Welcome to Toledo, Ohio.”

Sam picks up a newspaper that sat on the console of the car, the obituary of Steven Shoemaker circled.

‘The Shoemaker family is sad to announce the sudden death of their beloved husband and father Steven Shoemarker. Steven was 46. A short service will be held on Wednesday, [...] 31 at 2:00 p.m. at the Toledo [...] and cherish you [...] Your [...]’ The article read.

“So what do you think really happened to this guy?” Sam asks us.

“That's what we're gonna find out.” Dean answers, turning off the car. “Let's go.”

We exit the car, entering the large hospital building that stood in front of us walking up to the two desks that lie in the room. One of them is empty with a name tag that reads, ‘Dr. D. Feiklowicz.’ The other one however was occupied by a Morgue technician in blue scrubs, “Hey” the man greets us as we approach.

“Hey.” Dean answers back.

“Can I help you?” The technician asks, looking between the three of us.

“Yeah. We're the, uh...med students.” Dean lies.

“Sorry?” The man asks back.

“Oh, Doctor—“ Dean stammers over the name, “—Figlavitch didn't tell you? We talked to him on the phone. He, uh, we're from Ohio State. He's supposed to show us the Shoemarker corpse. It's for our paper.”

“Well, I'm sorry, he's at lunch.” The tech informs us.

“Oh well he said, uh—“ Dean sighs, “—oh, well, you know, it doesn't matter. You don't mind just showing us the body, do you?”

“Sorry, I can't. Doc will be back in an hour. You can wait for him if you want.” He tells us, gesturing to the seats on the side of the room.

“An hour? Ooh. We gotta be heading back to Columbus by then.” Dean looks at me and Sam as if queuing us to lie with him.

“Yeah.” Sam and I say at the same time, “Jinx” I mumble underneath my breath just loud enough for Sam to hear me who in return gives me a scrunched face.

“Uh, look, man, this paper's like half our grade, so if you don't mind helping us out—“ Dena explains getting cut off by the man in scrubs, “Uh, look, man...no.”

Dean laughs a little. He turns around to face us, mumbling, “I'm gonna hit him in his face I swear.”

But I mean we can’t really blame the guy he’s just doing his job.

Sam hits his brother on the arm, taking a step in front of him he opens his wallet and pulls out some twenties. He lays a few of them, at least five, down on the desk. The Morgue Tech picks up the money, “Follow me.”

The technician gets up and leaves. I go to follow, seeing in the corner of my eye Dean grabbing Sam when he too tries to follow, forcing me to stop and go back a step to see what they are on about.

“Dude, I earned that money.” Dean complains.

“You won it in a poker game.” Sam clarifies.

“Yeah.” Dean answers.

Sam rolls his eyes, pulling away from his brother to follow the technician.

“You’ll make it back” I say, patting Dean on the back shortly to go follow the morgue man.

Dean stays back a half a second before following after us.

“Now the newspaper said his daughter found him. She said his eyes were bleeding.” Sam said as the Morgue Tech pulled back the sheet over Steven’s face. Revealing a pale, long faced man with dark hair, blood stained on his cheeks below his eyes as if he had cried them.

“More than that. They practically liquefied.” The tech scuffs.

“Any sign of a struggle? Maybe somebody did it to him?” Dean asks him.

“Nope. Besides the daughter, he was all alone.” He answers.

“What's the official cause of death?” Sam questioned.

“Ah, Doc's not sure. He's thinking massive stroke, maybe an aneurysm? Something burst up in there, that's for sure.” He replied.

“You mean like cerebral bleeding?” I ask, wanting to clarify.

“Yeah. This guy had more blood in his skull than anyone I've ever seen.” He responded.

“The eyes & mash;what would cause something like that?” Sam asked.

“Capillaries can burst. See a lot of bloodshot eyes with stroke victims.” The technician explains.

“Yeah? You ever see exploding eyeballs?” Dean scuffs.

“That's a first for me, but hey, I'm not the doctor.” The tech shrugs.

“Hey, think we could take a look at that police report? You know for, uh...our paper.” Dean requests.

“I'm not really supposed to show you that.” He answers, stretching out ‘that.’

Sam sighs clearly annoyed, as he pulls out his wallet.

Now leaving the hospital, walking down the stairs Sam suggests, “Might not be one of ours. Might just be some freak medical thing.”

“How many times in Dad's long and varied career has it actually been a freak medical thing and not some sign of an awful supernatural death?” Dean points out.

“Uh, almost never.” Sam answers.

“Exactly.”

“Well then, let's go talk to the daughter.” I announce”

We walk into Steven’s funeral, a picture of him on the desk.

All the men in the room are wearing black suits and the women adorned in black dresses, everyone except us. Dean points this very fact out, “Feel like we're underdressed.” I nod in agreement, my lips in a tight line, the guilt of interrupting these people’s mourning with not only us being undressed but also for not having a reasonable explanation of us being here.

But no one stops us as we keep walking through the house, all the way towards the back and outside to the backyard.

A man points us towards Donna and Lily Shoemarker, the daughters of the man we had seen on a metal table only moments before, who are standing near two people whom I can only assume is a friend or family member.

“You must be Donna, right?” Dean greets the eldest daughter as we approach the group of people.

“Yeah.” She answers sadly brushing her short brunette hair out of her face.

“Hi, uh—we're really sorry.” Sam says.

“Thank you.” She replies, and I know she must have heard that same phrase of ‘i’m sorry’ and must have answered the same ‘thank you’ over and over to each person here. As if the death of her father hadn’t broken what’s inside her enough.

“I'm Sam, this is Dean, and that’s Y/N. We worked with your dad.” He explains.

She looks at one of the adults near her and then back at us, “You did?” And I feel bad for lying to her about this to give her a connection to her father that had never existed.

“Yeah. This whole thing. I mean, a stroke.” Dean goes on.

“I don't think she really wants to talk about this right now” One of the men with her say, stepping in.

“It's okay. I'm okay.” Donna says, with a sharp nod.

“Were there any symptoms? Dizziness? Migraines?” Dean asks, listing out various options.

“No.” She says simply.

Lily, the youngest daughter, turns around, “That's because it wasn't a stroke.”

“Lily, don’t say that.” Donna snaps.

“What?” Sam asks.

“I'm sorry, she's just upset.” Donna explains.

“No, it happened because of me.” Lily speaks up.

“Sweetie, it didn't.” Donna tries to convince.

“Oh Lily”, I say sadly crouching down to be closer to her eye level, “What makes you think that?” I knew what it felt like to blame yourself for someone else’s death, especially your parents, especially when it happens twice and you're too young to understand why this would happen to you. I feel the eyes of the people around me bore into me, especially from the brothers behind me.

“Right before he died, I said it.” Lily answers.

“Said what?” I ask her.

“Bloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror.” She explains, pausing, “She took his eyes, that's what she does.” My eyes go wide, not exactly expecting that answer.

“That's not why Dad died. This isn't your fault.” Donna reasons.

“I think your sister's right, Lily. There's no way it could have been Bloody Mary. Your dad didn't say it, did he?” Dean offers, giving the kid some logic to combat what she believes.

“No, I don't think so.” Lily answers. But I know it will take her years to really believe it wasn’t her fault, if ever.

Saying ‘bye’ to the grief rickened family we head back inside the house, but instead of truly leaving we sneak upstairs, approaching the bathroom.

Sam pushes the door open, dried blood stained to the white tiled floor, “The Bloody Mary legend...Dad ever find any evidence that it was a real thing?”

“Not that I know of.” Dean answers, him and I trailing in after Sam who stoops to the floor touching the dried blood, “I mean, everywhere else all over the country, kids will play Bloody Mary, and as far as we know, nobody dies from it.”

I grimace, why would he touch the blood?

“Yeah, well, maybe everywhere it's just a story, but here it's actually happening.” Dean offers.

“The place where the legend began?” Sam asks and we both shrug, Dean opening the medicine cabinet.

“But according to the legend, the person who says B—“ Sam looks at the medicine cabinet mirror, it now facing him, he closes it before continuing, “The person who says you know what gets it. But here—“

“Mr.Shoemaker gets it instead” I finish his sentence.

“Right.”

“Never heard anything like that before. Still, the guy did die right in front of the mirror, and the daughter's right. The way the legend goes, you know who scratches your eyes out.” Dean adds.

“It's worth checking in to.” Sam concludes, as we leave the bathroom.

“What are you doing up here?” A blonde woman stops us, the same woman who was comforting the daughters outside.

“We—we, had to go to the bathroom.” Dean lies, poorly, because it makes perfect sense for three people to be using a private bathroom all at once.

“Who are you?” She asks us, naturally not accepting the poorly down lie.

“Like we said downstairs, we worked with Donna's dad.” Dean confirms.

“He was a day trader or something. He worked by himself.” She counters, and we should really start researching these people before we make up lies of how we know them.

Dean tries to cover, “No, I know, I meant—“

“And all those weird questions downstairs, what was that? So you tell me what's going on, or I start screaming.” She tells us, leaving no more room for any nonsense.

“All right, all right. We think something happened to Donna's dad.” Sam begins.

“Yeah, a stroke.” She answers.

“But it isn’t a typical sign of stroke, it might be something else.” I say softly, ashamed for suggesting such a thing to someone who has no knowledge of our world. These people are going through so much the last thing they need is some random people questioning what they know, I wouldn’t blame her if she did scream.

“Like what?” She scoffs, crossing her arms in front of her.

Sam explains this time probably sensing my unease with all this, “Honestly? We don't know yet. But we don't want it to happen to anyone else. That's the truth.”

Dean tilts his head, “So, if you're gonna scream, go right ahead.” My eyes widened, snapping to look at him, and suddenly that unease I felt vanished, replaced by a burning hot feeling that rushed through my veins and brought a flush to my face. I gulped, trying to push down the feeling a simple sentence that wasn’t even directed towards me made me feel. The cockiness it held as well as the allowance in his voice…it shouldn’t have affected me, and really shouldn’t have created a burning-longing in my gut.

“Who are you, cops?” The woman questions us, but my eyes haven’t left Dean as if he was light and I a moth.

I catch Sam and Dean looking at each other, speaking without words, in my peripheral vision. “Something like that” Dean answers.

It’s then that Dean must have felt my gaze on him, my lips slightly agape as I looked at him through my lashes. His attention turned to me as Sam continued the conversation that I had long blanked out of. Dean looked me over, eyes trailing over my very being, only worsening the burning I had felt within. His eyes met mine again giving me that devilish smirk of his, I swallowed again my eyes falling to his lips.

Sam clears his throat, nudging his brothers hard enough that he knocks into me slightly. Effectively catching our attention.

“Let’s go” He tells us, the woman still in front of us this time her attention to a small piece of white paper that I assume has some sort of contact information on it.

“All right, say Bloody Mary really is haunting this town. There's gonna be some sort of proof—Like a local woman who died nasty.” Dean begins as we walk into the oddly dark library, the stale smell of cleaning products surrounding us.

“Yeah but Blood Mary is a widespread legend with tons of versions of who she actually is, with no clear answer. There’s the mutilated bride, a spirit conjured to tell the future, a witch, and a whole lot more” I answer.

“All right so what are we supposed to be looking for?” Dean asks.

“Well in every version's got a few things in common. It's always a woman named Mary, and she always dies right in front of a mirror. So we've gotta search local newspapers—public records as far back as they go. See if we can find a Mary who fits the bill.” Sam adds, answering.

“Well that sounds annoying” Dean admits.

“No it won't be so bad, as long as we…” Sam trails off looking over to the table lined with computers all that say ‘Out of Order’, he chuckles “I take it back. This will be very annoying.”

We quickly turned around, heading back to the motel we were staying at to do our research there. Dean sat leaning with his head on his hand on the small table in the room on his brother's laptop. The younger brother in question had fallen asleep on one of the beds, the rustling of the sheets giving away the fact he was tossing and turning. I however sat crisscrossed on the other bed Deans to be specific, not like he cared anyways, researching on my laptop trying to find any relevant info on a Mary in this town or deaths relating to mirrors.

“Why'd you let me fall asleep?” Sam suddenly speaks up, voice evident with sleep.

“Cause I'm an awesome brother” Dean scoffs, he’d never admit it was really because Sam hadn’t been able to sleep or at least sleep long for the last couple of weeks.

“And what’s your excuse Y/N?” Sam questions me, leaning on his side with one arm propped up.

“You were sleepy!” I admit simply, smiling at him. He rolls his eyes, huffing a laugh.

“So what did you dream about?” Dean asks him, though what he was really asking was ‘did you have another nightmare?’

“Lollipops and candy canes.” He answers sarcastically. So sassy and for what?

“Yum” I reply, my eyes going back to my laptop.

“Did you find anything?” Sam asks us.

“Oh besides a whole new level of frustration?” Dean huffs, making Sam sit up, “No. We’ve looked at everything. A few local women, a Laura and a Catherine committed suicide in front of a mirror, and a giant mirror fell on a guy named Dave, but uh, no Mary.”

Sam falls back on the bed, the crisp sheets making a ‘whoosh’ noise beneath him, “Maybe we just haven't found it yet.”

“Thing is, there’s also been no strange deaths in the area, no other eyeball bleeding. Nothing. Which you know is good in hindsight but not quite helpful for us.” I explain.

Dean adds on, “Whatever's happening here, maybe it just ain't Mary.”

Almost as if on cue Sam’s phone rings, he answers, still laying down. “Hello?”

Charlie, the blonde woman who questioned us before, sat on the park bench slightly hunched. I sat next to her to offer some comfort, while Dean sat on the back on the bench, his leg nearly brushing my back.

“And they found her on the bathroom floor. And her—her eyes. They were gone.” Charlie nearly sobbed, having explained everything that happened with her friend Jill.

Jill, who had wanted to tease the blonde women about believing in such a legend, saying the name in the mirror and winding up dead. Her death being in the same manner as Mr. Shoemaker.

“I'm sorry.” Sam answered, eyebrows scrunched together.

“And she said it. I heard her say it. But it couldn't be because of that. I'm insane, right?” She whimpered, using the back of her hands to clear the wetness from her cheeks.

“You aren’t insane” I tell her clearly.

“Oh God, that makes me feel so much worse.” She whines and I try to not let it hurt me, because she's griefing, even though it does.

“Look. We think something's happening here. Something that can't be explained” Sam explains. Dean adding, “And we're gonna stop it but we could use your help.”

Dean lifts me up again, this time to reach an elevated first floor window rather than a fence. His hands sliding from tight around my hips, to brushing down my thighs as he lifts me in reach of the window sill. The window wasn’t that high to reach in the first place but with my height, amidtely being shorter than both the boys, it wasn’t exactly comfortable or super easy to reach the window and pull myself up and in.

My hands grasp the cold white window sill, my rings clinking against the surface as I pull my body up. I swiftly slide my hips sideways making my butt land on the sill, in the same sort of movements you would use when you lift yourself out of a pool.

I move my legs inside the carpeted room, ducking slightly as to not hit my head on the open window. The room belonged to Jill, and as my feet hit the soft gray carpet I officially feel the disgust of intrusion creep up on me.

I slide off the windowsill moving into the room more, Sam quickly taking my place near the window to pick up the duffle Dean threw up at him. He catches it, putting it on the bed and immediately digging through it.

“So what did you tell Jill’s mom?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest, the uncomfortability of being in someone’s bedroom let alone a dead girls bedroom crawling up my skin and in my bones.

“Just that I needed some time alone with Jill's pictures and things.” Charlie answers looking between us and the door nervously. Dean climbs through the window shutting the curtain behind and Sam pulls something out of the bag. “I hate lying to her” Charlie adds.

“Trust us, this is for the greater good. Hit the lights” Dean orders.

She goes over to the lights, “”What are you guys looking for?

“We'll let you know as soon as we find it.” Dean hums.

Sam hands him a camcorder on and ready, the object he got from the duffel, “Hey, night vision.” He recalls prompting the older brother to do so, his face scrunched with focus as he finds the button.

“Perfect.” Sam smiles.

The little screen of the camcorder is facing Dean, in a ‘selfie’ like mode, “Do I look like Paris Hilton?” He smiles.

I laugh, slapping a hand to his upper arm on instinct, “Sure you do, baby” I joke, the pet name not something I ever use slipping from my tongue before I could realize. His head turns to give me an amused and smug smirk. In his distractment Sam takes the camera back, going over to the closet door filming around the mirror.

“So I don't get it. I mean...the first victim didn't summon Mary, and the second victim did. How's she choosing them?” Sam asks out loud.

“Beats me.” Dean answers, focusing back on the situation at hand. “I want to know why Jill said it in the first place.”

“It was just a joke.” Charlie reasons.

“Yeah well somebody's gonna say it again, it's just a matter of time.” Dean replies.

Sam wandered into the bathroom now, looking at the mirror there. “Hey!” He calls out, getting us to turn and look at him. “There's a black light in the trunk, right?”

Dean immediately went off to go get it coming back rather swiftly, just as Sam placed the mirror on Jill’s bed laying it upside down after having carried it from the bathroom. With the black light now in hand, he peels off the brown paper that’s on the back of the mirror, shining the purple light on its back revealing a handprint and the name ‘Gary Bryman.’

“Gary Bryman?” Charlie reads out loud both as an acknowledgment and also a question.

“Do you know who that is?” I ask her.

“No.” She answers simply.

Back on the bench, in nearly the same positions, Sam recalls his findings. “So, Gary Bryman was an 8-year-old boy. Two years ago he was killed in a hit and run. The car was described as a black Toyota Camry. But nobody got the plates or saw the driver.”

“Oh my God.” Charlie gasps, horror in her eyes as she covers her mouth.

“What?” I ask the question we’re all thinking.

“Jill drove that car” She answers. Without looking for confirmation I know the boy's eyes are wide too, but there’s no room for the talking that comes after shock.

“We need to get back to your friend Donna’s house.

Somehow, with the help of Charlie, we convinced our way into Donna’s house back up to the bathroom we were in only hours before.

Hunched over the mirror with the black light, our suspicions were correct. There’s a handprint, one I have to say looks like the one in Jill’s bathroom, but I'm no criminologist. This time the name ‘Linda Shoemaker’ is written on it.

We all look at each other, knowing it’s likely that Steven killed his wife hence why Bloody Mary went for him and not the young girl who chanted her name. But the only way to have any idea of this theory is correct is to ask the brunette teenager downstairs.

“Why are you asking me this?” Donna asks us.

“I’m really sorry, Donna, but this is important.” I try to explain, but I know it won’t make sense to her. I mean we are total strangers asking her uncomfortable questions about her dead mother.

“Yeah. Linda's my mom okay? She overdosed on sleeping pills, it was an accident, and that's it.” She fumes, eyebrows scrunched together in fury, “I think you should leave.”

“Now Donna, just listen.” Dean reaches a hand up, as if to motion ‘calm down.’ But it doesn't work. Teary eyed and a little red in the face she yells, “Get out of my house!” Swiftly she runs up the stairs, not giving us another option.

“Oh my God. Do you really think her dad could've killed her mom?” Charlie asks, finally picking up on our theory.

“Maybe.” Sam shrugs.

“I think I should stick around” Charlie announces, referring to staying with Donna, which is probably a good idea.

“All right. Whatever you do, don't—“ Dean tries to warn getting cut off, “Believe me, I won't say it.”

The crisp smell of old books and, oddly, cinnamon fill my nose as I take a deep breath, flexing my hand as I work out the cramping from writing a little too intensely in my small journal.

Dean sits next to me on the cold metal chairs in the library we decided to research in (different to the original one we were at), he’s typing away on the clunky computer the library has. Sam’s staring off at a bulletin board behind us with all sorts of things on it.

“Wait, wait, wait, you're doing a nationwide search?” He asks Dean, alerting us of him coming back to his seat on the other side of his brother.

“Yep. The NCIC, the FBI database—at this point any Mary who died in front of a mirror is good enough for me.” Dean answers.

“But if she's haunting the town, she should have died in the town.” Sam points out.

“I'm telling you there's nothing local, I've checked. So unless you got a better idea—“ Dean explains and as much as I love him I cut him off.

“Well, Mary’s victims have a pattern, which I know you guys already know so I'll just cut to the good part. Both victims had secrets relating to where people died and, here’s the good part, there’s a lot of folklore on mirrors, specifically that mirrors are a reflection of your soul. And with that your secrets and lies are revealed to the mirror.

Fun Fact! It was the Romans who believed that the soul would regenerate every seven years, so if you broke a mirror then you’d have to wait seven years until your soul was cleansed of the bad luck and misfortune.

And while I have more fun facts about mirrors I will end it there.” I smiled, satisfied with my information vomit as well as my fun fact because fun facts are wonderful.

Both boys look at me strangely, a mix of confusion and what I think is amazement (they should be amazed cause that was a really great fun fact). Dean seems to shake it off, “Right. So if you've got a secret, I mean like a really nasty one where someone died, then Mary sees it, and punishes you for it.”

Sam adding, “Whether you're the one that summoned her or not.”

“Correcto!” I answer, and by correct I mean that’s what I was thinking for our working theory.

“Then take a look at this.” Dean announces, clicking a few buttons on the computer before leaning over to the nearby printer, pulling out and handing us the paper. It’s a picture of a woman lying by a mirror in a puddle of blood. He prints out another picture, this time of a handprint and the letters “Tre.”

“Looks like the same handprint.” Sam points out and I nod in agreement.

“Her name was Mary Worthington—an unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana.”

“I was on the job for 35 years-detective for most of that. Now everybody packs it in with a few loose ends, but the Mary Worthington murder—that one still gets me.” The detective states, unfortunately I immediately forgot his name. It's not the nicest thing to happen but I was also really focused on his country accent that’s just a little too funny.

“What exactly happened?” Dean asked, leaning forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his knees.

“You boys and girl said you were reporters?” Mr. Detective questioned.

“We know Mary was 19, lived by herself. We know she won a few local beauty contests, dreamt of getting out of Indiana, being an actress. And we know the night of March 29th someone broke into her apartment and murdered her, cut out her eyes with a knife.” Sam recalls the gruesome story.

“That's right.” He confirms.

“See sir, when we asked you what happened, we wanted to know what you think happened.” Sam clarifies for him, somewhere between a curious and condescending tone.

Mr. Detective eyes us over as if he’s contemplating something. He spins his wheely chair around swiftly getting up and going to a large file cabinet. “Technically I'm not supposed to have a copy of this” He huffs, pulling out a file and then a picture, the same picture Dean had already found on the computer. “Now see that there? T-R-E?” Detective reads out, even though unbeknownst to him it’s old news to us.

“Yeah” Dean answers.

“I think Mary was trying to spell out the name of her killer.” He theorizes.

“Do you know who it was, or any theories?” I ask, trying to get any sort of new answers.

“Not for sure. But there was a local man, a surgeon-Trevor Sampson.” He pulls out another photo, this time of this Trevor guy, he has an oval face with curly short hair definitely on the darker side but I can’t say exactly what color due to the black and white photo. He’s also wearing some sunglasses.

“And I think he cut her up good.” He finishes, his accent thick.

“Why do you think it’s him?” I question further.

“Her diary mentioned a man that she was seeing. She called him by his initial, ‘T’. Well, her last entry, she was gonna tell ‘T’'s wife about their affair.” He answers, and for a detective that truly means nothing.

“No offense but how does that directly correlate to Sampson… I mean there’s other people with the initial ‘T’ right?” I question him again, hoping it doesn't offend the man.

“It's hard to say, but the way her eyes were cut out...it was almost professional.” He explains.

“But you could never prove it?” Dean asks, chiming in.

“No. No prints, no witnesses. He was meticulous.” Mr. Detective nods.

“Is he still alive?” Dean follows up.

“Nope.” He sighs, sitting down. “If you ask me, Mary spent her last living moments trying to expose this guy's secret. But she never could.”

“Where's she buried?” Sam asks this time.

“She wasn't. She was cremated” He answers. No digging up bodies for us today.

“What about that mirror”, Dean nods towards the one in the photo, “It's not in some evidence lockup somewhere is it?”

“Ah, no. It was returned to Mary's family a long time ago.” He explains, leaning back in his chair.

“You have the names of her family by any chance?”

We drive down the roads, the sun setting behind us. Sam’s call dictates where we go, either to whatever location he gives us or back to the motel.

“Oh really? Ah that's too bad Mr. Worthington. I would have paid a lot for that mirror. Okay, well maybe next time. All right, thanks.” Sam hangs up, pocketing his phone.

“So?” Dean asks.

“So that was Mary's brother. The mirror was in the family for years, until he sold it one week ago to a store called Estate Antiques. A store in Toledo.” Sam stated.

“So wherever the mirror goes, that's where Mary goes?” Dean raises.

“Her spirit's definitely tied up with it somehow.” Sam simply puts it.

“Isn't there an old superstition that says mirrors can capture spirits?” Dean asks.

“Yeah! People would cover up the mirror when someone died so that their spirit/ soul wouldn’t get trapped.” I explain, happy to spew some more of my fun facts.

“So Mary dies in front of a mirror, and it draws in her spirit” Dean works through the facts.

“Yes! But I don’t know how she’s working through various mirrors” I admit.

“I don't know either, but if the mirror is the source, I say we find it and smash it.” Dean proposes.

“Yeah, I don't know, maybe.” Sam gets cut off by his own phone, “ Hello.” A look of concern washes over his face, becoming pale “Charlie?”

The motel room is colder, the rain outside causing that meek fact. Charlie’s sitting on Sam’s bed, her head on her knees, after we picked her up from school all terrified. All the curtains are drawn shut, all the mirrors and reflective surfaces are covered with sheets or turned aquas towards a wall or the floor there will be no bloody mary getting in here.

Sam sits next to Charlie, “Hey, hey it's ok. Hey, you can open up your eyes Charlie. It's okay, all right?” She looks up reluctantly and slowly, “Now listen. You're gonna stay right here on this bed, and you're not gonna look at glass, or anything else that has a reflection, okay? And as long as you do that, she cannot get you.”

“But I can't keep that up forever. I'm gonna die, aren't I?” Her voice wobbled, fresh tears running down her cheeks.

“No. No. Not anytime soon.” Sam comforts, but I don’t think it helps.

Dean sits on the bed too, “All right Charlie. We need to know what happened.”

“We were in the bathroom. Donna said it.” She answers simply, rocking herself slightly.

“That's not what we're talking about. Something happened, didn't it? In your life...a secret...where someone got hurt. Can you tell us about it?” Dean pushes.

She looks around uncomfortably, swallowing she begins, “I had this boyfriend. I loved him. But he kind of scared me too, you know?” She looks over at me for confirmation knowing without any previous conversation about it that I would understand. And she was right. It was as if bad boyfriends were sewed into the fabrics of being a woman, it would be a little strange if you hadn’t had one.

I nod and she continues, “And one night, at his house, we got in this fight. Then I broke up with him, and he got upset, and he said he needed me and he loved me, and he said "Charlie, if you walk out that door right now, I'm gonna kill myself." And you know what I said? I said "Go ahead." And I left. How could I say that? How could I leave him like that? I just...I didn't believe him, you know? I should have.” She cries harder, going back to her previous position.

I move towards her, Sam getting up to allow me to sit close to her. I hug her, holding her close despite her awkward position. “That’s not your fault” I told her simply, and I meant it too. She uncurls herself, quickly wrapping her arms around me and stuffing her face into my neck. I hold her tighter. “You did the right thing, leaving him” I mutter.

Dean huffs, gripping the steering wheel slightly tighter, “You were right back there Y/N, her boyfriend killing himself, that's not really Charlie's fault.”

“You guys should know as well as I do that spirits don't exactly see shades of gray. Charlie had a secret, someone died, that's good enough for Mary.” Sam reasons.

“I guess” Dean sighs.

“You know, I've been thinking. It might not be enough to just smash that mirror.” Sam suggests.

“Oh, what do you mean?” I ask with a tilt of my head.

“Well Mary's hard to pin down, right? I mean she moves around from mirror to mirror so who's to say that she's not just gonna keep hiding in them forever? So maybe we should try to pin her down, you know, summon her to her mirror and then smash it.” Sam explains.

“Well how do you know that's going to work?” Dean questions.

“I don't, not for sure.” Sam shrugs.

“Well who's gonna summon her?” Dean follows up.

“I will. She'll come after me.” Sam states as if it’s the most obvious answer and with no care for himself.

“You know what, that's it.” Dean nearly shouts, pulling the car over quickly and roughly making my body shift nearly knocking into the door.

“This is about Jessica, isn't it? You think that's your dirty little secret that you killed her somehow? Sam, this has got to stop, man. I mean, the nightmares and calling her name out in the middle of the night—it's gonna kill you.” Dean fumes, not quite yelling but also not quite talking.

“Now listen to me—It wasn't your fault. If you wanna blame something, then blame the thing that killed her. Or hell, why don't you take a swing at me? I mean I'm the one that dragged you away from her in the first place.”

“I don't blame you.” Sam answers plainly, almost in defeat

“Well you shouldn't blame yourself, because there's nothing you could've done.” Dean adds.

“I could've warned her.” Sam sighs, and the pain in his voice makes me want to cry.

“Sam…you couldn’t have known that would happen.” I chime in, though it doesn't quite feel like my place.

“And besides, all of this isn't a secret, I mean we know all about it. It's not gonna work with Mary anyway.” Dean exclaims.

“No you don't.” Sam states, no further explanation given.

“I don't what?” Dean asks.

“You don't know all about it. I haven't told you everything.” Sam shrugs.

“What are you talking about?” Dean questions, face full of confusion.

“Well it wouldn't really be a secret if I told you, would it?” He replied sassily.

Dean looks surprised, “No. I don't like it. It's not gonna happen, forget it.”

“Dean, that girl back there is going to die unless we do something about it. And you know what? Who knows how many more people are gonna die after that? Now we're doing this. You've got to let me do this.” But Sam doesn't get any answers, with a roll of his eyes Dean drives off. Conversation over.

Sam is trying to pick the lock on the shop's door, somehow without any word he became the designated lock picker. The dark oak door opens and all around the store are mirrors, mirrors of all shapes and sizes and varieties. Truly the worst place to be in this situation.

“Well...that's just great, '' Dean sighs, pulling out the photo of Mary’s corpse to look at the mirror, the one we’re looking for being a wooden frame. Not very helpful considering our location where there are countless mirrors that look exactly the same. “All right let's start looking.”

I nod in agreement handing both boys their crowbars. I shifted my baseball bat in my hand, there wasn’t a third crowbar and there was no reason for it anyways, a baseball bat is just as good at smashing.

We enter the dark store, flashlights on, splitting up we look for our specific mirror.

“Maybe they've already sold it.” Dean suggests, from some part of the store.

“I don't think so.” Sam says, stopping in his tracks. Dean and I walk over on either side of the taller man, Dean pulls out the picture again comparing the two. It’s our mirror.

“That's it.” Dean sighs, “You sure about this?”

Sam hands over his flashlight and sighs, “Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary.” He looks between the both of us, “Bloody Mary.”

A light shines through the store windows, illuminating the room.

“I'll go check that out. You guys stay here, be careful. Smash anything that moves.” Dean shuffles away.

I grip my bat tighter as a breath that isn’t mine nor Sam’s surrounds us. He turns around quickly but I keep my back towards him, “Nothing?” I ask and he hums in confirmation.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Mary in one of the mirrors, I step forward swinging my bat back and then forward hard. The glass shatters falling to the floor around my feet. Then Sam hits a mirror behind me, before swiftly turning back to her mirror.

“Come on. Come into this one.” He mutters underneath his breath.

He tilts his head watching his regeneration weirdly when suddenly he starts breathing heavily grabbing at his chest.

“Sam!” I shout, grabbing his arm. His eyes begin to bleed, blood trickling down his cheeks. He drops his crowbar, the metal clinking against the floor loudly.

“It's your fault. You killed her. You killed Jessica.” A voice rings out, one that sounds like Sam’s though I know it’s not him speaking. I help him to the floor carefully as he grabs his chest harder.

“You never told her the truth—who you really were. But it's more than that, isn't it?” The voice fumes.

I get up leaving Sam to the floor, “That’s enough of you” I mutter, gripping my baseball bat tight. I hit her mirror, the glass shatters around me.

I hear Sam take a deep breath in, when I look down at him he’s no longer holding his chest. He holds a thumb up to me, weakly.

But for some reason the voice didn’t stop, Mary was no longer hurting Sam but her accusations wouldn’t stop.

“Those nightmares you've been having of Jessica dying, screaming, burning—You had them for days before she died. Didn't you!?! You were so desperate to ignore them, to believe they were just dreams. How could you ignore them like that? How could you leave her alone to die!?! You dreamt it would happen!!!”

I smash three more mirrors, anything to get it to stop by it doesn't.

“SAM, SAMMY!” Dean shouts, rushing into the room and crouching down to his brother.

“It's Sam” He answers meekly.

Dean holds onto his brother's face gently, eyeing his face and the blood on it, “God, are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah.” Sam replies, a little unsure though considering the circumstances I get it.

“Come on, come on.” He pulls Sam up, bringing his arm around his neck with a nod of his head towards the door. I follow the boys towards the exit.

A sudden crunching noise forces us to turn around. Mary crawls out of the frame of her mirror, her long black hair covering her face, she walks over the broken glass with no care, her head tilting to the side as she crawls towards us. Her dark nearly black eyes bore into us, somehow she forces us to the floor.

My chest feels tight as if someone was squeezing my heart, I try to crawl backwards on my hands like a crab walk when a sharp pain surges through my hand followed by my eyes. I bring my hand in front of me, a large slash runs through my palm, a piece of glass sticking out of it. The ache in my eyes I know is not caused by glass but by Mary, I reach my gold hand up to my cheek blood trickling down my face. I suck in a breath, the pain not helping the already pain I was feeling. I look over to the boys on the left of me nearly on top of each other as blood runs down both their cheeks.

Mary stands approaching us with a head tilt and a limp. I grumble holding up a shaky hand, waving my hand once, slowly, making long mirrors form in a line in front of Mary acting as a wall between us.

“You killed them! All those people! You killed them!” A female voice cried out, Mary’s voice.

She looks at her reflections scared, when she begins to choke. She grabs on to her throat and her chest, crumbling down to the ground she shrieks, turning to a puddle of blood

With another wave of my hand the wall of mirrors shatters, glass falling to the floor loudly.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Yeah?” I hum feeling a little defeated.

“This has got to be like...what? 600 years of bad luck?” He asks me and I can’t help the big smile that falls on my face.

“Mmm I can’t wait” I laugh, the sarcastic comment coming to me with ease.

The sun rises in front of us, gleaming on the Impala. Our faves are cleaned up, ridden of blood and the event that unfolded. The only proof of it happening being my hand that’s carefully wrapped in white gauze, the glass now out and the cut cleaned.

Charlie sits next to me in the back seat as we pull up to her house, it's odd having someone else back here with me.

“So this is really over?” She asks us, her eyes puffy from her night of crying.

Dean looks at her through the rearview mirror, nodding, “Yeah, it's over.”

“Thank you.” She says, Dean reaching back to shake her hand. She turns to me next, arms open in a hug. I close the gap between us and give her a good squeeze.

She smiles a little sadly at me, getting out of the car.

“Charlie?” Sam calls out, stopping the woman in her tracks. She turns around, “Your boyfriend's death...you really should try to forgive yourself. No matter what you did, you probably couldn't have stopped it. Sometimes bad things just happen.”

She smiles faintly, turning back around to go into her house.

Dean hits his brother's arm gently, “That's good advice.”

We drive off the car falling silent for a beat before Dean talks again, “Hey Sam?”

“Yeah?” He answers.

“Now that this is all over, I want you to tell me what that secret is.” Dean tells him, looking between him and the road.

“Look...you're my brother and I'd die for you, but there are some things I need to keep to myself.” He admits with a sigh, looking out the window.

The car falls silent again.

Healing isn’t easy. It's not something you can put a bandaid on and expect to be fine, and maybe all that Sam shared will be enough for now but that’s not something we can gauge.

That is times doing, and time isn’t something we can control.

God knows i’ve tried.

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #fanfiction #sam winchester #supernatural #john winchester #slow burn #witch #witch reader #witch craft #sunshine x grumpy #romance #fantasy #bloody mary #urban legends #mystery #mirror #fun facts #the hunter and the witch

[ghostinthegallery]

I'm sorry, of course, you've probably been asked similar questions more than once, but... Could you tell the height (even approximate based on the facts) of many famous Necrons? Yes, I have already found a similar post, but with two specific ones, from you, but I'm afraid I won't be able to find it right away... I hope it won't bother you.. ;^;

Alright let's go! I have apparently become an expert on one thing and that is apparently the relative heights of fictional robots from space.

First, some notes on methodology. I am going mostly based off of models, which means I cannot give precise answers about characters who don't have updated models as the old resin ones aren't in the correct scale. Also some characters don't have models so...vibes I guess.

I have also included a Standard Reference Marine (SRM) for scale. Primaris marines are about 8 ft tall give or take (they can apparently get up to 10 ft but my guess is that's mostly named characters not my generic lil dude here).

A few rules of thumb

Necrons are taller than humans, including marines

Crypteks are taller than lords, although this is variable as crypteks are usually adept at manipulating living metal which lets them adjust their forms

Vibes reign supreme

So with all that in mind here is my line up

In order from shortest to tallest we have:

Standard Reference Marine

Overlord

Plasmancer

Chronomancer

Orikan

Imotekh

Szeras

Yes I beefed up Imotekh's base, but that puts him about on the same level as Orikan with his floating. It evens out.

A closer image of the SRM and the crypteks:

Look at this little guy.

SRM next to Imotekh:

And because I am devoted, here is the Silent King himself (not on a base sorry)

As you can see, Szarekh is taller than Imotekh, so put him between Imotekh and Szeras in the lineup.

Now with these references we can roughly estimate the heights of the named necrons if we assume that Trazyn, Anrakyr, Oltyx, and Zahndrekh are all around the height of an overlord (probably taller as they have Named Character Privilege). Yenekh is specifically described by Oltyx as Tall so he's probably taller. Same with Zultanekh. Obyron should be based on a lychguard but no he's a big lad because I say so, vibes reign supreme.

Drum roll please!!

Necron Character Height Master List

Zahndrekh- 9 ft (he's a short king to me)

Anrakyr and Oltyx- 10 ft

Trazyn and Yenekh- 10.5 ft (Trazyn gets an extra half foot for the hood)

Orikan and Obyron - 11 ft

Imotekh and Zultanekh- 11.5 ft

Szarekh- 12 ft. (13 with the crown)

Szeras- big. He's just big okay

There we go! Hope this helps ❤️

P.S. While we have clearly determined Szarekh is taller than Imotekh, I can confirm without a shadow of a doubt that Imotekh has bigger tits. I checked. It wasn't close.

#answering asks #necrons #the necron height master list #my contribution to the community #i am an expert #i cut myself on a hobby knife twice while assembling models for this #my blood is on these models #this is what i do for y'all #out of love

[neonpunk-fickwriter]

How old is Elf?

Is Elf a teenager the same age as Jyugo? Or a much older man whose age does not match his appearance? I don’t know how many people have seriously thought about this question… But I’m one of those who really thought about it, and did a little research, re-reading the entire manga from beginning to end… From Elf’s first appearance, his meeting with Jyugo, chapters about Noriko Sanzou's past, and right up to the very final chapters, which also contain some information regarding how old our pointy-eared friend is. And I should note that this actually gave me a more or less clear answer to my question. Well… I'll lay out the facts. First of all, I think we should pay attention to the fact that Jyugo, during his first meeting with Elf, literally tells us about his age:

"I've never seen a guard around the same age as me before… Even if I assume he's an inmate, there shouldn't be anyone besides me who can get out…" Jyugo tells us that Elf is definitely a teenager. Or Jyugo mistook him for a teenager… Okay, let's not rush to conclusions. After all, the chapters that contain information about Noriko Sanzou's past tell us otherwise. As far as we know, Noriko Sanzou is 30 years old at the time of the events of Building 5. She is a grown woman, but Elf was present in her past, and he seemed to be her age, a little boy.

In this case, it would seem that the theory that he is a teenager is crumbling. This is logical, yeah. However, regarding Noriko’s age and appearance, not everything is as clear as it seems… Because next to her all this time was her younger brother Houdzuki, who is 8 years younger than his sister, but also looks almost the same age as her.

And if Houdzuki at the time of these chapters, for example, is 8 years old, then Noriko is 16… Thus, the chapters about Noriko Sanzou’s past cannot give us an accurate assessment of whether Elf is really her same age in childhood or not, because her appearance is completely does not exactly match her age and misleads us. In addition, apparently, Noriko saw Elf not in reality, but in her dream. (Chapter 132)

However, I propose to follow further, bypassing the profile of Elf from the anime, where his age is indicated as 16 years old… Much further.

So...

In chapter 422, we are shown none other than the moment of Elf's creation… Isou, Mashiro and Hiiro are near a large scarlet test tube, talking about a child who once existed, and whose cells were a panacea for all diseases.

And as far as we can see, this moment occurs some short time after Jyugo's birth, since Mashiro talks about Elf's "incompleteness" at the moment when Hiiro learns that he injected Elf's cells into Jyugo's body. (Unfortunately there is no English translation here, sorry)

And finally… Based on all this I can conclude: Elf is not just a teenager like Jyugo, he is even a little younger than Jyugo, and he is certainly not a grown man. And who knows, perhaps in chapter 61 Elf’s phrase that in the past he and Jyugo played a lot together has the most direct meaning… ;)

Thank you for your attention! And for reading this all to the end xD

#Nanbaka #Nanbaka Elf #Elf #Nanbaka manga #Jyugo #Hiiro #Isou #Mashiro #Kisaragi Hiiro #Mutsuki Mashiro #Manga #Final chapters #spoilers #Elf's age #Noriko #Noriko Sanzou #Houdzuki #Houdzuki Sanzou

[silviakundera]

omfg they're ridiculous. apparently the answer of why so much crossdressing in Kaleidoscope of Death is simply that a) disguising your identity is good strategy, b) for the drama asdfghjk

“Qiuqiu,” Ruan Nanzhu’s voice was cold. “Is someone making things difficult for you?”

Lin Qiushi looked at Ruan Nanzhu.

Right when their eyes met, Lin Qiushi suddenly understood. Lin Qiushi’s mythical inner drama queen took over his body. Sniffling back tears, he threw himself into Ruan Nanzhu’s arms, with an air of “oh look how wretchedly I was bullied.”

//

Ruan Nanzhu made a satisfied expression and led Lin Qiushi out by his hand.

At this moment, Lin Qiushi finally figured out the evil truth behind why Ruan Nanzhu had him play the role of a mute girl. If not for the fact that he had to stay in character, Lin Qiushi would at least be able to retort and poke a hole in Ruan Nanzhu’s sudden desire to perform. But as a person who cannot speak, by the time Lin Qiushi typed a quip back on his phone, Ruan Nanzhu was done with his performance.

Lin Qiushi finished his cup of milk and sighed internally. How evil is the human heart…

//

Wang Tianxin, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I was wrong… big brother, I was wrong!”

He desperately pleaded, eyes imploring.

Lin Qiushi, “Who’s your fucking brother, Wang Tianxin, you bastard, remember this: if you dare harass me again, or tell anyone what happened between us right now, I’ll end you.” He bent down so that his mouth was by Wang Tianxin’s ear coldly said, “It’s not like it’s against the law to kill someone in here.”

Wang Tianxin trembled. He furiously nodded as if to say he understood.

Lin Qiushi let out a breath. He took his foot off of Wang Tianxin and smoothed out his clothes. In a short span of time, he transformed back to that small and pitiful mute girl.

Glaring one last time at Wang Tianxin, he turned around and left.

Wang Tianxin watched as he left, his gaze restlessly uncertain.

When Lin Qiushi arrived back at the dining hall, Ruan Nanzhu had already returned. Seeing him approach, Ruan Nanzhu asked, “Where did you go?”

Lin Qiushi typed on his phone: [That Wang Tianxin tried something so I gave him a beating.]

Ruan Nanzhu read what he had typed and smiled, “Wow, amazing.”

...[S]omeone in the group could not bear to see this any longer and carefully walked towards Ruan Nanzhu to inform him that Lin Qiushi was taken away just now.

Ruan Nanzhu, the bastard that he was, fell into dramatics again, and slammed the table in anger after that person had finished speaking. “He dares to touch my person?!” He then stormed off and soon came the sounds of Wang Tianxin’s wails and miserable pleas for mercy.

Lin Qiushi took a sip of water, pretending that he didn’t hear anything. Scums like Wang Tianxin deserved a proper beating to put him in his place.

//

Lin Qiushi wanted to ask Ruan Nanzhu what Dong Tianwen had meant, but his plans were compromised when Ruan Nanzhu pinched his jaw and whispered a warning, “Don’t go around seducing everyone. You are mine.”

Lin Qiushi: …Big boss, does putting on a drama truly give you such happiness?

Ruan Nanzhu, “Have you heard me or not?”

What could Lin Qiushi say? He could only nod his head, though with an expression that said ‘Whatever should I do with you’.

This fellow, Ruan Nanzhu, was giving him a gaze as if he was laughing even though he finished his lines with a very strict and professional attitude.

#kaleidoscope of death #cnovel #the spirealm

[ludiharambasha]

Hey! So I saw your anti atla posts. I was intrigued.

I have to ask, how would have liked the show to go about Zuko? How to handle him and his plot and arc? And what do you think about him as a character in general?

Hi, sorry that it took me so long to answer this ask, and this is sadly because I am not sure I am able to provide a satisfactory answer. (This is going to be very long). I will try to approach this from several angles.

In short, Zuko's entire conception is one I have a problem with. Zuko is not a character the writers tried to do something with and failed or wrote in a confusing, messy way that could be bettered with some tweaks- Zuko is exactly what the authors of AtLA wanted him to be, and it is their artistic vision that I have a (and at the same time don't- this will be clear to you as you read on) problem with. Not just Zuko, but Iroh as well, and I think this character arc stems from the privileged background of the authors, and a larger context of Western popular art, something I discussed in greater depth when I wrote a couple of posts about The Hunger Games.

Now, there are three angles I read Zuko and his redemption arc from:

1. Redemption arcs generally being indicative of poor or mediocre story-telling;

2. Zuko as a Western, colonial fantasy;

3. Zuko as a character in media intended for children.

I think this is the most organized way I can argument my feelings and thoughts about him as a character.

1.

It was fairly obvious that Zuko was a character fallen from grace that will see glory by the end of the story. From the moment he first graced the screen, it was apparent that he would go through a redemption arc, and that his character was all about that. There are some blogs that I will add here that might have a lot more to say on the issue (I will tag them in an edited version of this post if they would be ok with me tagging them), but redemption arcs are indicative of, at best, juvenile, at worst, flat out bad writing. Redemption arcs are really fine in children's literature because of their didactic nature, but in writing intended for older audiences they should not be treated seriously.

Art really isn't about instilling morals into the audience - art is supposed to make the readers'/observers' ideological, sensory and moral world challenged in interaction with it - art presupposes the already existing morality of the one interacting with it, not a blank slate onto which the art is supposed to leave an imprint. This notion that art is about didactics is a very outdated, passée idea that resurfaces every now and then, usually in think-of-the-youths type of discourse. Art is the fruit of the author's sensory, ideistic and moral world, and innately expresses something about the auhor and the world as they percieve it-it is not meant to indoctrinate or instill something, but to provide someone's perspective on a phenomenon or idea. This does not mean that art cannot be evaluated because it is personal; its merit is decided through analysys, usually of theme(s), characters, motifs, etc., of their quality, inventiveness, coherence, and so on. It is a delicate matter and not all critics agree on every work; moreover, there are different schools of methodology of the analysis of literary works; they do not agree on many things. There are good resources on the internet where you can find more info on lenses, approaches, etc.

I cannot say that evey literary lens or critical approach condemns redemption arcs (some classics with this arc include A Christmas Carol); however, there are two very good reasons to be vary of them in fiction. A) they are moralistic, and b) they are predictable, and these two reasons are somewhat intertwined.

I've already said quite a lot about didactics and moralizing in fiction earlier, so now I will try to focus on why this impacts characterization poorly and give more focus to reason b). When I say predictable, I mean that the character that this character arc goes along traditional lines of a certain archetype, and never once goes beyond them or manages to state anything new about the convention itself or break out of its confines. Zuko starts as a prince fallen from grace and ends up as the new Firelord- there is nothing in his story that even once nods to the fact that anything else was going to happen (him failing to redeem himself in book 2, only to then be consumed by guilt and finally be redeemed for realz is also an incredibly common pattern). There is nothing transgressive or challenging to constructing a character like this. There is no profound idea that Zuko brings forward with his presence in the story. How can someone genuinely say that writing a character that has been written a MILLION times before in the EXACT SAME way to be good? We laud stories that say something; creating a character like Zuko is akin to butting into a conversation, not because you genuinely have something to say, but just to hear yourself speak. Redemption arcs are the death of character- if we know where the character arc is going to go, the readers' perspective is not challenged. It is failure to tell a unique, authentic story.

Redemption arcs are enjoyed because they deal with a commmon fantasy that we CAN do better and be better, eventually. Very few follow up on this and become better people, but reading about people that do sure is reassuring. This creates this self-righteous feeling in the reader for aligning with the right cause. This has a very clear moral and instructive tone - do better. When art is made to instill values is when the art ceases to be creative. This does not mean that art is and should be devoid of morality; on the contrary, art is meant to engage your morality through self reflection. When you read about deplorable characters doing deplorable things, there is no need for the narrator to outright say 'this bad' - how you feel about actions of the characters is inherently a moral excercise. (Why should anyone celebrate art that insults the readers' intelligence and their ability to make moral judgements?)

At the heart of redemption arcs is that they are digestible, easily understood, and reaffirm the goodness of the reader. It is the most simple, juvenile type of writing there is.

2.

There is a reason why Zuko's redemption arc (and many others of the like) have a particularly strong appeal - they are reassuring to white, Western readers. They play into another, more disturbing fantasy - the sins of one's colonial past can be undone, forgiven and forgotten. If a prince of an empire that committed genocides, military occupations, and so on (there is a very long list of the crimes the Fire Nation committed), can be redeemed and become better and help the oppressed people, then so can they (they won't, and don't really intend to, but the fictional realization is enough!). There is also a reason why the fucking beach episode is beloved in AtLA fandom- it goes through the motions of 'humanising the Fire Nation' and showing them full of just some random, 'normal' kids that just live normal lives (in the eyes of the 1st worlders). It is the ultimate justification of white Western conformity, ignoring how this conformity keeps oppressive, violent systems running. Aang's culture being wiped off the face of the Earth, showing us the torture Hama went through, seeing Katara never find peace about her mother being killed by a Fire Nation soldier, never getting to see Jet get justice for the murder of his parents, all the environmental damage the Fire Nation caused is extended as much or less sympathy than privileged kids from the Fire Nation. Let that sink in. Zuko is just the most glaringly obvious realization of this motif.

Zuko's redemption arc is reflective of Westerner's feelings about colonialism and racism. This guilt is something that is part of them, as one has to be painfully stupid to be oblivious to their nations' pasts- everything around them reflects their vile history. They either choose to double down on this fact and percieve themselves as victors and their past as full of glory, others have trouble dealing with the gravity of these facts. And Zuko's moral dilemmas, his failures reflect this "revelation" and (surface-level) abhorrence towards imperialism. And it reflects a more awful truth, that these people seldom truly recognise the true implications of their own involvement in these systems - they often see colonialism as these sins of the past and systems divorced from their own involvement, and not the sins of both the past and present they actively contribute to - and Zuko also realises the faults of the Fire nation not based on what he personally did or has seen with his own eyes; he truly starts to recognise the evils of the Fire Nation when confronted with his past and his lineage. It is not the institution of the Fire Lord and the immense power it carries that has led to these heinous crimes, or the militarism- it is particular people that need to be brought down. Zuko, despite being a war criminal just like his father and sister, is absolved of what he did de facto. Just like the primary audience of AtLA would like to be.

Another thing to note, one that is not analytic but entirely subjective on my part, is that I cannot brush off the feeling that Zuko's redemption is more strongly motivated by Zuko's feelings of inadeqacy, rather than a developed sense of justice (this one is more up to interpretation, as there is proof n the story for and against this assertion).

3.

Redemption arcs and Zuko I don't have a problem with if we are looking at AtLA through the lens of mediocre standard children's media. Children's media should be didactic, because children learn a lot from engaging with the environment, and media is a particularly influential one. A child will not be capable of detecting all the implications of AtLA as a narrative - for them, it is enough to see a simple character like Zuko. I just cannot stand it when people delude themselves into believing he is written well, he's average at best.

That is all I have to say on the matter, for now. Thank you for your question. Take care.

#anti atla #anti zuko

[allieebobo]

hello hello!!! found u through college tennis: origin story and frankly i am amazed by how u write romance (and how u write in general??? just nice to read) but moreso ur tennis mechanics are just so FUN!!! if there's anything i love more than the romance it's the tennis playing :]

anyway. all this to say. merry crisis has my heart. in my head i tell myself i love both equally (which i do!) but merry crisis hits different (i'm malaysian living in sg, also in international school haha) and GOD. queerness in sg. going abroad. losing ur mandarin/dialects + accent. the choices between singapore feeling like home or it never was. yeahhhhhhh. yeah. u captured it so well!!!!

especially love that one bit where nat was with the player in sg and she was looking at everything in awe and wonder bc GOD it combats my "there's nothing here for me" outlook idk that bit always stuck with me

side note do you know of alfian sa'at or his poetry? i periodically come back to 'singapore you are not my country', also this line: "[singapore] you terrible/hallucination of highways and cranes and condominiums ten minutes'/drive from the MRT"

anyway done with the outrageously long ask feel free to not answer any of this if it's too much or if u don't want to yk but love your work take care!

OH MY GOD HELLO THIS IS THE SWEETEST MESSAGE??? AND also so interesting?? You are the best.

Hehe I love that you enjoy the tennis mechanics of course but it's always so cool to find people who enjoy both the tennis AND merry crisis cause in my head the IFs have such different vibes.

And anyway! yessss I love alfian sa'at and (digression here) I remember borrowing One Fierce Hour in secondary school and having it shake me to my core and I loved it so much I just never returned it (for three years) and at the end of school they told me that I still had a book 3.5 years overdue and said if I didn't pay for the book or cough it up and pay for the (very expensive) fine, I wouldn't be allowed to graduate... so long story short I now own the book--but I digress.

"Singapore you are not my country" is a punch to the gut and those lines you quote are one of the BEST imo. Like fuck, Singapore IS a terrible hallucination of highways and cranes and condominiums" and as an urban planner whose livelihood is literally planning for and providing the homes that are 10mins from the MRT that I am too poor to buy and apparently too gay to deserve is just irony upon irony. But yes, that line is one of my favorites as well.

I think why perhaps I feel such an affinity for him and his poetry is this love-hate push and pull that queer Singaporeans feel for this goddamn place that we were born into and cannot help but love, but the very same place that keeps trying to expel us/tell us that we have no place here?

And ah yes, it's so cool that you picked up on the Nat response and that you thought it was significant too :') There's always the bittersweet ache for me when I come back home and/or see it through the eyes of a lover whom I've ensnared and brought here to this half-paradise-half-hellscape, Nat's wide-eyed wonder for me too is a way of expressing that contradiction (of loving and hating and wanting to give up on Singapore but also feeling like its so much part of you that no matter where you go it lives on in you?)

Anyway. Sorry that got long. Sending you all my love :)

#ct:os #if #college tennis: origin story #asks #interactive fiction #merry crisis #singapore #nat

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Carla Ecstasy [07]

ー The scene starts in the saloon at Banmaden

Yui: Well then, I’m entrusting you with this letter. Please deliver it to the Vibora troops.

Familiar: Yes, as you wish.

Shin: They’re planning an attack against us. Be careful that you don’t get taken out.

Familiar: I shall be plenty cautious. 

Shin: ...Nii-san. Anything you want to say to our Familiar?

Carla: No. ...Get going already.

Familiar: Yes. I shall get going then.

*Woosh*

Yui: ( Now our proposal to form an alliance should reach the Vibora. )

Carla: ...

Shin: ...You can be such a child at times, Nii-san. Did you really have to take out your frustrations on the Familiar?

Carla: I did not do such a thing.

Shin: ...Seems like you no longer care about acting like a proper King when Yui is involved.

Carla: Of course. There is no other woman out there who could fulfill her duty of giving birth to a Founder child.

Therefore she shall receive a special treatment. It only makes sense.

Shin: I mean, you’re not wrong. ...But is that truly the only reason? 

Carla: What are you alluding to, Shin? 

Shin: Whoops. I better step back before I get snapped at even more...

*Knock knock*

Shin: Oh. Someone’s here. 

ー Kino enters the room

Shin: ーー Kino.

Kino: I spotted one of your Familiars earlier. They’re on their way to ask the Vibora for an alliance, right?

Carla: ...Yes.

Kino: Okay! Then we won’t have to fight them, right? So, what will you do next?

I heard that the Vibora Clan had already made plans to attack the Vampire Clan after they were done with Banmaden, you see?

Yui: The Vampire Clan...

Kino: Hm? ーー Ah, right. You lived together with those guys before, didn’t you?

I guess you can’t help but get worried when finding out that they’re be targeted next?

Yui: ...

Kino: Aha! I get where you’re coming from, but you can’t pretend to be buddy-buddy with them forever.

Better make quick work of those Vampires, or they could cause a lot of trouble down the line. Right, Carla?

Carla: ...You do make a valid point.

Yui: ( ... )

Shin: Shuu is their current King, right?

Carla: Yes. Exactly. 

Yui: ( Shuu-san is the King... )

Kino: He only just succeeded the house. However.

If he gets to the same level as Karlheinz, nobody will be able to stop him, you know?

In short, if you want to rewrite the Demon World’s hierarchy, now’s the only time. It’s a prime opportunity. 

So, you know? Don’t you think you should make your next move soon?

Carla: I do not need you to tell me that. I have already decided what I should do.

Kino: Ah, is that so? So we can leave that up to you?

Carla: Of course.

Kino: Roger! I’m counting on you then.

ー Kino leaves

*Thud* 

Yui: ...

ー The scene shifts to Yui’s room

Yui: ...Haah.

( I can’t get the thing Kino-kun said out of my head... )

( I should have known that if Carla-san wishes to reign over the Demon World, he would have to fight the Vampire Clan as well. )

( Apparently Shuu-san inherited the throne but...I wonder how the others are doing? )

( If possible, I don’t want them to fight butーー )

ー Somebody enters her room

*Creaaak* 

Yui: ...!

*Thud*

Yui: Carla-san...Why the sudden visit?

Carla: What were you thinking about?

Yui: Eh...?

Carla: You’ve been lost in thought ever since Kino visited earlier, no?

Yui: ( ...Carla-san sees right through me. )

( But... )

Selection

→ Deny it

Yui: No, that’s not true. 

Carla: ーー Is that the truth?

Yui: Ugh...

Carla: Can you say that one more time while looking me straight into the eyes?

Yui: ...

( There’s no way I could ever deceive him. I wonder why I said the opposite of what I actually think? )

→ Fail to answer (❦)

Yui: ...

Carla: You cannot answer my question?

Yui: ...I figured there is no reason to.

Carla: Excuse me...?

Yui: I realize that I simply cannot keep secrets from you.

Carla: ...

Carla: Those Vampires are on your mind, correct? 

Yui: ...Yes.

Carla: You still cannot forget about them? 

Yui: ...

( I doubt I could properly explain my relationship with them. )

...I’m sorry.

Carla: So you have chosen to apologize. Do you realize that apologies only prove that one is aware of their own crimes? 

Yui: ...

( What I feel for those Vampires is completely different from my love for Carla-san, butーー )

Carla: Hmph. ...I can tell this weighs down heavy on you.

In that case, all I have to do is make you forget. 

ー He steps closer and embraces her

*Rustle rustle* 

Yui: Eh...?

( N-No...! )

Carla: Whether it is affection or pain, I shall grant your every wishーー

ー Carla shivers before stepping back

Carla: ...!!

ー He collapses

*Thud* 

Yui: ...!! What’s wrong, Carla-san!? Carla-sanーー!!!!

Monologue

It seems that as the next step in their plan,

the Vibora are thinking of launching an attack on the Vampire Clan. 

Then with our intentions of forming an alliance with them,

will we have to go down that same path as well...?

A war against the Vampires. 

When I think of that,

I felt my heart sink. 

Carla-san can urge me to forget about them all he wants,

it is not actually that easy.

However, I had other things to worry about right now.

Carla-san had suddenly lost conscious and collapsed (崩れ落ちた) on the floor. 

Endzeit is a terminal illness. 

Could it be,

has that time (その時) finally come...? 

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #carla tsukinami #lost eden #diabolik lovers translation #lecarlaecstasy7

[distort-opia]

you and your anons discussing intellectual questions and here i am asking: is Bruce a dog or a cat person? ( lets ignore the very obvious joke that can be made here 😭) i really wanna know. and is there a panel of him petting a kitten.

A very valid question, and I’m glad to get an ask regarding Bruce! By his choice of romantic partners you might think he'd favor cats, but he's quite famously a dog person. He's had Ace, a German Shepard, for many decades, who's also the Bat-Hound. (I used to love his adventures with Krypto as a kid.) And, he's also got Titus, a Great Dane, though Titus is technically Damian's. Bruce has shown a lot of affection for Titus too, though.

The Wayne household does also have a cat called Alfred (...and a cow, and whatever Goliath is, and a turkey). But all of these pets are Damian's, who's quite famous for his love of animals. And in the end, it was Alfred who took care of these animals the most; Bruce hasn't interacted a lot with the cat, at least not on the page.

...That's the short, rational version of this answer. I somehow ended up going into Ace and Titus' backstories, plus I went on a tangent about Golden Age Bruce and cats. So I'm putting the rest under the cut [sigh].

In current continuity, Ace has quite the interesting origin; he was an attack dog, first found and named by Joker (as shown in Batman: Urban Legends #15):

But, as shown in Batman (2016) Annual 1, Ace was the only attack dog to survive one of the fights Joker arranged, and was left behind by Joker for dead:

It's actually Alfred who wants to keep Ace, and tries to train him. Bruce says that Joker broke the dog, and that it cannot be saved. But he clearly warms up to Ace, and becomes quite attached, after Ace proves himself to be loyal and valuable:

Later on in, in Batman (2016) #40, he even says he misses Ace while looking very sad about it:

Sorry for the unwarranted paranthesis, I really like Ace's current origin :)) But to hammer it in, Bruce is also the one to gift a dog to Damian, his son -- as shown in Batman and Robin (2011) #2 and #3:

Damian also takes a while to warm up to the dog (much like his father with Ace), eventually calling him Titus.

After Alfred's death, the animals become quite the bittersweet companions, since he'd been the one to take care of them the most. in Detective Comics (2016) #1018, Bruce finds comfort in having them around, but he's still grieving:

And in Detective Comics (2016) #1033, he takes all the pets and moves them to his new place, even Bat-Cow. It's all extra sad, because Damian (the original owner of most) left, not wanting to be Robin anymore.

I guess my point with this is... Bruce chooses dogs as companions, most of the time. He's shown petting them and playing with them, but I can't recall any instance of that with Alfred the Cat. In current continuity, he associates the dogs with Alfred especially, which gives them extra emotional meaning. After all, Alfred was the one to insist he give Ace a chance, and once Bruce stopped being closed off, he ended up very attached to him -- and with a love for dogs in general, I suppose.

...This all isn't to say Bruce doesn't like cats at all. He's dating Catwoman, and I just have to show you these panels of Bruce saving one of Selina's cats from gunfire, in Batman: Year One #3:

The faces this poor cat makes are hilarious. Sure, he saved her, but at what cost.

Also, I guess Golden Age Bruce wasn't terribly fond of cats, and it's really funny. Catwoman sicks tigers and all sorts of felines on him, and one time she leaves him tied up with cats crawling over him -- as shown in Detective Comics (1937) #203:

Love that he keeps catnip in his utility belt, and that he ends up using the cats to escape. Holy adaptability, Batman!

Also, while going on this unhinged search for interactions between Bruce Wayne and cats, I have found... the funniest thing on the planet. Apparently Superman tried to get Batman executed for witchcraft in World's Finest Comics (1941) #186.

Yeah. They travel back in time and then Bruce makes out with some hot babes which gets Clark jealous and he decides to frame Bruce as a 'servant of Satan'. And he does so... by using his power of super-ventriloquism and "throwing his voice" within a black cat:

So. Another reason for Bruce to not like cats, I guess, if they got used to frame him for witchcraft??

(I've been laughing for 5 minutes straight, oh my god. Fully recommend reading this.)

So. I don't know this turned into an insane hunt for interactions between Bruce Wayne and dogs & cats, but I hope this was entertaining, anon! No panels of Bruce petting kittens, but hey, he saves one from being shot. Though obviously, if anyone has any other additions, please feel free to tack them on.

#um. this answer really got away from me #asks #batman #batman meta #bruce wayne #bruce wayne meta #alfred pennyworth #damian wayne #selina kyle #clark kent #joker #ace the bathound #Cloud thanks for the help with that one panel!! #my meta

[youremyheaven]

Does getting plastic surgery change your kibbe type? Like can something as simple as getting a nose job alter it?

Not really.

Drastically altering your body through surgery can affect your Kibbe a little bit though.

I'll use Kim Kardashian as an example.

This is Kim K in the mid 2000s before she got a ton of plastic surgery. She has a natural hourglass body. She is more frame dominant than she is curve dominant however which means the SHAPE of her body is more apparent than say her boobs or hips. Her overall frame is what gives her this hourglass appearance.

She can easily be typed as a Soft Natural.

This is Kim in 2018. She's had her breasts augmented and liposuction or whatever they do to make her waist exaggeratedly small and along with her BBL, she's also had her hips enhanced.

Now her hourglass body looks far more exaggerated and pronounced. After these enhancements, what gives her an hourglass appearance are her large breasts and wide hips.

She has cosmetically enhanced herself to resemble a Soft Dramatic.

However Kim is still a Soft Natural. Her flesh is more muscular, athletic and she herself is more "strong" looking than an actual SD woman. The woman on the right is Sofia Vergara (ik you cant see her face properly 😞). Notice how her body looks soft and fleshy instead of muscular or "athletic".

The defining quality of a Soft Dramatic is how they're yang with a pronounced yin. This means while they're tall with strong frames, their flesh itself is very soft and rounded.

Even after all her surgeries, Kim has adopted the aesthetic of a different Kibbe type but she herself is still a Soft Natural (and there's absolutely nothing wrong with being SN, I hate how SN's get talked about online!!)

You can get surgeries but you cannot change your flesh (this sounds morbid and creepy, I'm sorry)

Short answer is that while you can adopt the aesthetic of another Kibbe type, you can't change it fully.

#kibbe #kibbe analysis #kibbe body types

[queen-scribbles]

— 10 Characters

I was tagged by @valkblue to play this game. Thank you for the tag, and sorry it took me so long to answer 😅(what I have learned from this is I gave my Pillars of Eternity girls lots of EXCELLENT dialogue) Also a lot are two characters to give context for the line or bc I'm proud of the back and forth(have I mentioned I love writing banter?)

Rules: pick up to 10 characters and share one of your favorite lines of dialogue you have ever written for them!

Tavi(Pillars of Eternity) in Deep Roots

Her eyes narrowed at the presence of kith, then flew wide when her gaze landed on Heodan. She physically recoiled, looking like she’d seen a ghost. “Aren’t you fuckin’ dead?” Apparently, in her mind, she had.

2. Cam/Liam (ME:A) in The Answer

Cam grinned and sat back on her heels. “Oh, so there was a plan that didn’t involve springing it out of the blue and almost givin’ me a heart attack?” she asked playfully. “I don’t think you wanna go there,” [Liam] shot back just as playfully, arching a brow at her. “Giving the love of my life a heart attack isn’t really a category where you have a leg to stand on, Camille.”

3. Jaaide (SWtOR) in Cracks 

 “If I’d opted for directness over subtlety and still failed to sway her, would my hands be clean enough for you?!”

4. Adi/Heodan(Pillars of Eternity) in a handholding prompt:

His fingers played along with hers, tracing soft lines across her knuckles and down her wrist. “I like listening to you talk.” A beat. “Especially about the things you love.” Warmth bloomed in her chest and sent a ripple through her fur. “Well, then.[...]Prepare to hear a lot about yourself.[...] Because there are few things I love more.”

5. Keme/Jorgan (SWtOR) in Got Your Back

“Thought-ah!-Thought I was the boss,” she joked, even as pain tightened her jaw[...] “Only when you’re not bleeding to death,” Jorgan growled. 

6. Janine(Wayhaven) in Jinx!

Adam had a very skeptical eyebrow arched by the time she finished. “Jinxes are mere superstition, Detective. They cannot cause you harm because they are not real.” “Says the vampire,” Janine shot back immediately with a grin and arched brow of her own.

7. Kayris/Atton(KotOR2) in Gamble

Kayris smirked teasingly at Atton. “We let him loose in a cantina, it’ll be anything but short.” “Hey, now,” he protested with a smirk of his own. “It’s not my fault a lot of people are worse at pazaak than alcohol makes them think they are.”

8. Endrali(SWtOR) in a kiss prompt

“Arcann. Aside from me getting to decide who ‘deserves’ me and I picked you, I fell in love with you, maybe it’s not about  deserve as much as what we have, and you” –she leaned in and kissed him– “have me.”

9. Ves/Kurt(Greedfall) in Wonder

“Someday I’ll figure what I did to deserve you,” he managed. “And I’ll happily reel off my list until it sinks in,” she returned quietly, sliding both hands forward to cup his jaw. “You are enough, Kurt. Just you.”

10. Bao-Dur in Old Habits

[Evony:] “Would you like some help?” “If you want, I know you like to tinker,” he said with a quiet laugh.  “But don’t feel obligated; I built it one-handed, I can fix it that way, too.”

(No Trinne or Harvey just bc there's SO MUCH I've written for them it would take forever to narrow it down, but I am v proud of their exchange at the Gnawed Noble in the most recent OWaP chapter and Harvey's "I love you more than always having [quiet moments] to myself" line in the Sunrise OC Kiss fill)

uhhhhhh just open tagging for anyone who wants to show off some writing stuff

#tagged #(also y'all know i love arcann's 'you make a great many things better' in unbowed. time to let some other stuff shine) #i am unironically proud of the vast majority of what i've written so this was HARD man