#(please excuse my shoddy joke) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

supanuts · 3 months

Note

(2/2)

And the clearest example is how he’s aware of Way’s feelings for him, has been for a while, but not only is he very dismissive of them (picture their hallway conversation when Way is clearly emotional and upset and for the first time actually addresses the elephant in the room (which takes a lot of courage), only for Babe to be all ‘yeah I know – ugh did you have to actually say it out loud?? - but, like…Charlie! Now let me caress your shoulder while I reassure you we’re still best buds!’ or the way he reacts like it’s all a bit tiresome whenever someone else brings it up) - Babe makes a conscious choice to NOT discuss it with Way, and more importantly to NOT draw any boundaries tween them. At best he’s just being extremely careless with Way’s feelings, especially when he jokes about them being bfs, but at worst, one could argue that his flirtatiousness is in fact an intentional manipulation of said feelings in order to keep Way where he wants him, which is at his beck and call. Babe doesn’t care to look any deeper because there’s nothing in it for him – as long as he has Way by his side, adoring him, he’s satisfied. Any awkward niggling thoughts about how actually this probably isn’t a healthy dynamic and this guy needs to get a life outside of me and in retrospect it’s a little strange that I know literally nothing about him get pushed aside in order to maintain that status quo.

Now, unlike half the characters in this show, I’m capable of self-reflection: I know that I could extend some of the sympathy I have for Way due to his shitty past (and present) to Babe, and speculate that Babe’s selfishness, his need to keep Way with him even if it’s detrimental to Way’s wellbeing, is merely a consequence of his own shitty past, his fear of being alone; that his inability to deal with this situation is a result of his own emotional maladjustment at Tony’s hands. That’s all very likely to be true. BUT! Babe has the whole internet ready to kill for him, so sorry but he doesn’t need me to do the same! What can I say - I feel obligated to stick up for the underdog, no matter how much of a fucked up wrong’un said underdog might be! (Of course there’s also the entirely plausible possibility that all this is just the fault of shoddy writing - as long as characters keep repeating that this really is a deep and wholesome and 100% reciprocated friendship then we the audience are duty-bound to believe it!)

In conclusion (if you got this far - apologies!): Way is a pathetic but tragic character who didn’t deserve the hand he was dealt (but does deserve lifelong therapy), whose motivations are much more complex and heart-wrenching than many seem able/willing to recognise/acknowledge. Babe is selfish and a shitty friend, but that is perhaps understandable given his experiences. SA (and mind-fucking your friend) is NEVER excusable, no matter how awful your life or how bad your daddy issues; neither is it EVER the fault of the victim. All of these things can be true at the same time, and it wouldn’t hurt to remember that.

Your Honour, I rest my case!

P. S. Internet, please don't be mad at me! Everyone's of course entitled to their own opinion (variety is the spice of life and all that!) and the remaining eps might totally destroy this interpretation, but at the end of the day, it's just a show, and I'm just a socially anxious contrarian overthinker with a penchant for well-acted morally dubious pretty boys!

i think i tend to be more positive/look for the more favourable explanation and so my opinion on the hallway conversation (which: hurty) is that babe is extreeeemely unprepared to talk about feelings. which is funny because his friendship with way reads as very intense to me, and they’re pretty dramatic with their words too? but it’s clear babe has no experience in this area, both talking about it and feeling it, and it shows precisely in how careless he is with way’s feelings. and again, the jokes about being bfs babe i will hunt you down you cannot be this dense! please! but also i don’t think he would see anything unhealthy in how powerful way’s attachment to him is because i think, up until charlie showed up, they both acted like that with each other. (my poor way…)

don’t apologise! this has taken me five million hours to reply to but it has been worth every. second. and honestly while as i’ve just said i don’t totally agree with your interpretation of babe and his actions and feelings towards way i do think you make great points and can see why you’re interpreting something in a different way than i do. also i love to read what people are thinking. meta is my favourite thing in the world, so unless it’s something horrifying to me i am going to enjoy it lol

#pit babe #pit babe the series #asks #anon #way anon

10 notes · View notes

raggaraddy · 3 years

Text

Mouthy

Prompt: You say to Yandere BTS "Oh my god! Just shut up!"

A/N: Couldn't sleep, so I wrote this laying in bed. I hope it's not some sleep-deprived nonsense ^-^

Trigger warning: Yandere themes, violence, emotional manipulation, choking, non-con, D/s themes, examples of a bad D/s dynamic.

Alpha! Namjoon

"Oh my god! Just shut up!" You scream it through your bedroom doorway. Storming to the railing of the stairs, you lean over and scream again. "Shut up!"

The sea of people on the ground floor go quiet. Only the music dares to keep making a sound in the background. You skulk back to your room, slamming the door loudly behind you. You had had a long, disappointing day. You were tired and grumpy, and moody and sad. But the dozens of uninvited pack members couldn't care less as their party raged on into the night.

Not allowing you enough time to even climb back into bed, Namjoon storms after you to address your outburst.

"Y/n, go downstairs right now and apologize." He orders.

"No." you mope. Feeling it's a wildly unfair request. All these people are in your house making so much noise when you're trying to sleep. How is it you that's in the wrong?

"Do you think I am asking you? I'm telling you. Get downstairs now." He says sternly. His strict tone making you even more emotional. You just wanted him to be on your side for this.

"But- But I," you sniffle, with tears in your eyes.

"No," Namjoon cuts you off. "I've asked you all afternoon what's wrong. And you wouldn't tell me. So right at this moment, I don't want to hear it. You have been disrespectful to me and my people. So you are going to put some more clothes on and cover-up, and you will go out there and apologize to every single person." He growls, leaving no room to argue. "And you will do it sincerely, or I will give you something to cry about."

King! Seokjin

You didn't say it to his face. You would never be that stupid. But still, you clearly weren't smart enough. While gossiping to a friend, someone you thought was a confidant, you're complaining about a seemingly endless, boring meeting you had to serve today.

"And I just wanted to tell all of them; Oh my god! Just shut up!" You laugh.

But hours later it's no longer a laughing matter.

"How did you enjoy serving me today, Princess?" Jin asks his tone giving nothing away of what he already knows.

"I enjoyed it. Thank you, your Majesty" You politely smile, thinking his question to be a kindness.

"I often find these meetings so dull. Many of the Lords do like to ramble on. Sometimes I would enjoy telling all of them to just shut up." He speaks the words so purposefully that you know at once you've been exposed.

"My Lord, I-"

"If you are smart you will not say another word." He speaks softly, with a grin on his face. "I want to thank you, Y/n. I have an endless supply of other people I can hurt. Each one of them is freely at my disposal, but you are my favourite toy." He fills the space in front of you. "However, I am a man of my word. I swore to you that you will be unharmed if you are obedient, and I would not dare to break this vow. Of course, I have sorely missed playing with my beloved little dol, though."

Towering over you he sets off your instinct to get to your knees and grovel, begging his forgiveness for your carelessness. But that would only be a wasted effort.

"So thank you, Princess, for giving me the possibility to hear your pretty cries of pain again. I will make sure to use this opportunity to its fullest."

Assassin! Yoongi

He had been in a hyper mood for 2 days straight. His energy and enthusiastic interaction was something you always craved, but you had never dealt with it this long before and you were losing your sanity and your composure.

"Oh my god! Just shut up!" You shout at him as your last nerve snaps.

"Okay, Y/n." He gives little to no reaction. "Remember you said this in a month from now when you're begging me to speak to you."

But it didn't take a month. In two weeks you were in tears apologizing. He left you free to roam the house, but he revoked all communication from you. The only times he gave you any attention, was when he forcibly made you stop doing something he didn't like. Or when he wanted you for sex. But still, he wouldn't utter a single word, only bending you over to take what he wanted.

After 5 weeks, just as you thought you'd never hear his voice again, he finally broke his silence. Only to break your heart.

"Listening to you these past few weeks, I realise how much you talk. It's time you take your own advice and shut up. Y/n, I don't want to hear a sound out of you until I say. 5 weeks was easy enough for me. So let's start with that, and then I'll see if I want to hear from you yet."

Vampire! Hoseok

Hoseok was always so animated. Normally it didn't bother you, but he was talking and reacting through yet another movie and you were sick of it. It might have been because you were PMSing or maybe because Hoseok had forgotten to feed you all day, but when he yelled at the TV, you yelled at him.

"Oh my god! Just shut up!" And right away you were teeming with regret.

"I'm sorry baby. Am I being too loud?" He laughs with an unexpectedly harmless reply. Playfully but roughly slapping his hand on your thigh. "I'll keep it down."

You're not dumb enough to think that your eruption would go unanswered. So you sit tensely, anxiously waiting to see how he will repay you.

"Baby," he whispers in your ear, after sitting in silence for 20 minutes. "You know I have very strong hearing right?" You nod nervously. Chewing your lip. "Well, your breathing is too loud and very distracting. I can hardly hear the movie. Can you please fix that?"

You know this is going to lead to something horrible, but you have no choice but to do as he says. For the next 10 minutes, you're completely distracted trying to inhale and exhale as softly and shallowly as possible.

"Hmm baby, it's really too much. I can't concentrate on the film." He stands, pulling his belt off. "Here let me help you."

He wraps his belt around your neck, pulling and setting it so tight that it's biting into your skin. Your throat constricting, barely letting you breathe.

As you wheeze and splutter and cough, he holds the end like a leash. Sitting back on the couch, he turns his focus back to the movie without letting you loosen the strap or get away. Your whole body is shaking, your eyes starting to roll back as you struggle to inhale. The belt is cruelly not tight enough to have you pass out though. Only allowing you to sit in your suffering. The sound of your gasping filling the room.

"Ahh, there you go baby. That's much better. Don't worry, it's just while we're watching movies. And there's only two more left in the trilogy."

Playboy! Jimin

He was telling you over and over how sorry he was. How he didn't mean to kiss that girl. That he was drinking. And that she kissed him. It was every excuse and lie he had spouted 100 times before.

"Oh my god! Just shut up!" You yelled at him. And for a moment it worked. He sat in stunned silence. But as you got off the bed to leave, taking your car keys with you, he chased after you.

"Where are you going?"

"Out Jimin. I need some time alone to think." You scowl.

But he refuses, blocking the door. Holding his arms to either side to barricade you in.

"No, you can't leave! I said I'm sorry."

"Fuck off Jimin, your apologies mean nothing." You say shoving him.

He doesn't accept that. With a roar, he grabs your shoulders throwing you down onto the bed. Quickly straddling you, using far too much force to keep you pinned beneath him. Tearing off the pillowcases, he makes some shoddy but effective restraints. Tying you to the bars on the headboard.

Ignoring your screams and how you struggle he starts to kiss down your neck, pulling at your clothes, rubbing his hands down your body.

"I'm gonna make you feel good Y/n. I'll show you that I only want you, then you'll have to forgive me." He says sounding desperate and unhinged.

You cry and yell for him to stop, trying to buck him off you, but his hand covers your mouth, his other successfully tearing down your panties from under your dress.

"Don't fight me, Angel. Just let me in. And I'll prove I love you the most."

Dom! Taehyung

Finally, Taehyung had agreed to spend some time with you in a social environment. He and you went out to a movie and dinner with some of your friends. They were vanilla friends though, so as an exception, for the day he loosened a lot of the restrictions and formalities you normally had in place.

You, however, you were getting a little too relaxed. While you joked with you're friends, you started to speak to him the same manner. As you and he were playfully arguing about trivia facts you realized you were losing the debate.

"Oh my god! Just shut up!" You joke. But in the company of your friends or not, Taehyung was not about to let you disrespect him. Even in jest.

"Is that how you should talk to me girl?" He asks loudly and in front of everyone, bringing the group conversation to a grinding halt.

His change in tone and his use of the possessive pet name, right away have you back in your place.

"No," you whisper. The sting of embarrassment hot upon your cheeks.

"No, what?" He pushes it.

You can't stand to look up. All of the attention is on the two of you. And even in your peripheral, you can see your friends looking at you judgementally, wide-eyed and in shock.

And he was making it worse by having you use his title around them.

"No, Sir." you surrender, your head hung low.

"Shouldn't you also apologise to the other people at the table? For interrupting our night with your rudeness." He keeps piling on one shame after the other. Stretching out the ordeal.

"No, it's fine." One of your friends tries to laugh off the awkwardness and speed the discussion away from this point. "She doesn't have to."

"Y/n," He prompts you, disregarding what your friend had said.

Thoroughly humiliated, you can't imagine how you are going to repair these relationships or explain this treatment away.

"I'm sorry for interrupting the night with my rudeness." you swallow heavily, hands shaking.

"Good girl. Now mind your mouth. Before you make me embarrass you further."

Mafia! Jungkook

"Oh my god! Just shut up!" you say in a hushed voice. More of a prayer said to yourself than an actual demand you expected Jungkook to hear.

"What did you just say to me?" he lowers the phone, gawking at you.

You really didn't mean to, it just slipped out. He was talking on the phone, going into too graphic detail about how he and his men dealt with a threat recently. You couldn't handle the gruesome details he was recanting anymore and the words just fell out.

"What did you just say? Did you just tell me to shut up?" He repeats again through your nonreply. His tongue running through the inside of his cheek, his jaw and muscles tensing. His voice jumping rapidly from stunned to aggressive.

You're at home alone with him, so you weren't paying much mind to what you were saying. But this afternoon he's been dealing with work. And right now he isn't Kookie, no the person in front of you is Jeon Jungkook. The temperamental Mafia head, who would as likely hit you as he would speak to you.

"I'm sorry," you squeak.

"You're sorry?" He scoffs, slamming the phone down. "If you had said it and meant it, that would be one thing. I could respect that. But you really just can't control your stupid little mouth can you."

"I-" you start a defence, or more a plea for mercy.

"Shut the fuck up!" He growls leaning forward in his seat making you flinch back. Darting his hand out he grabs you by the hair, pulling you back to where you were. "Don't flinch. I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm gonna help you." He smiles.

You wriggle in his clutches, mewling the same trifle apologies under your breath.

"Shhh, my brainless little Kitten. I'm gonna give you a gift." He smirks. "For your own safety, you don't need to talk for the rest of the day. I just need you to come when I call. Sit on my lap when I tell you. And purr for me like a good little pussy." Grabbing your arm harshly, he yanks you off your chair and onto the ground. "There you go, where you belong." He laughs. "You think you can remember to do all that? I know you can. Otherwise, I'll buy you a kat collar to remind you how my Kitten should behave."

542 notes · View notes

juniorgman187 · 4 years

Text

Bratty (Spencer Reid Imagine)

Summary: Reid must supervise Camille, who makes Reid’s job anything but easy for him.

Category: Soft angst Couple: OCFem!Reader x Spencer Reid Word Count: 2.6k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“You’re being ridiculous.” Camille huffed.

“No - what I’m being is a good uncle.” Cruz retorted while handing Camille a jacket.

“It’s literally midnight!”

“Exactly. I’m not leaving you alone this late at night.”

“You’re seriously gonna make me go all the way to Quantico with you right now?”

“I won’t be able to leave work after I’m there. If you come with me, I can work and take care of you.” He explained.

“I’m an adult! I can take care of myself.”

Cruz completely dismisses this. “I already told JJ that you’re coming. She’s excited to see you again. You can meet the whole team, too.”

“If I go, will you please stop acting like I’m a child?”

“I can’t make any promises.” He shrugs.

Camille groans in mild frustration as she reluctantly readies herself to leave with her uncle for Quantico.

As soon as Camille enters the BAU, she’s showered with love from JJ.

“Hey, you! How are you holding up?”

“Well right now, I’m really wishing I didn’t give Uncle Matt a key to my apartment.” Camille quips.

“Yeah, maybe when he’s distracted I’ll grab his keys and remove yours.”

JJ’s joke makes Camille smile. JJ winks at Camille before turning away to talk to Matt.

“How’s Elena?” Elena is Camille’s mother and Matt’s sister.

“Reception’s shoddy where she is, but when I drove her to the airport, she couldn’t be more excited. She’s always wanted to travel to an underdeveloped country and teach English as a second language. That’s why it wasn’t even a question if I would take care of Camille while she was away.”

“Good for her. I guess it runs in your blood to want to help people, huh?”

“No,no she’s more selfless than me. I can tell you that. She’s so patient with her students. Probably developed that skill when she had Camille. I love her to death, but kid’s feisty. Just like her mom when she was her age.”

JJ grimaces in preparation for a hard question she feels obligated to ask. “You know, it’s none of my business, but what’s Camille - 21, 22?”

“21.”

“I know you told Elena you’d watch her, but helicopter parenting her like she’s a teenager isn’t the way.”

“Forgive me if I’m not comfortable leaving her alone with a serial killer on the loose.”

This statement alone is enough to shut JJ down. On a lighter note, the team greets Camille.

“Welcome. I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner.”

“Camille de la Vega. Nice to finally meet you.”

“You’ve met JJ. This is Agents Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, and David Rossi. She’s our technical analyst - Penelope Garcia. And this is Dr. Spencer Reid.”

Camille goes down the line shaking everyone’s hands, but then she reaches Reid.

“A doctor in the FBI?”

He corrects her instantaneously. “Not M.D. PHD. Three of them actually. Chemistry, mathematics, and engineering.”

“Good to know.” She nods.

Camille extends her hand to shake his and everyone notices that he obliges.

“Hey, Reid what’s with the handshake? I thought it was safer to kiss.” Morgan teases.

Camille shyly laughs.

“Yeah, why the exception, kid?”

“Don’t listen to them.” Reid timidly tells Camille, making her grin from ear to ear. She’s already taken a particular liking to him. And from the looks of it, he’s done just the same.

“Although I’d love to catch up with you, Camille, we have to start working immediately. Anderson will show you to your uncle’s office.” Hotch gestures towards Anderson who’s waiting in the doorway to lead Camille out of the round table room.

. . .

Notably, the clock reads 4:10 a.m. Camille is reading a book at her uncle’s desk, when there’s a knock at the door. It’s Spencer.

“Oh, hi. Did you need to grab something from his desk? I can move if you need me to.” She politely offers.

“No, no I actually came to bring you food. I thought you might be hungry.”

Camille thanks him and accepts the paper bag of food.

Reid notices she’s reading a book. “What are you reading?”

“Little Women.” Camille says, flashing the cover.

“Have you read it before?”

“Mhm. It’s one of my favorites. Have you?”

“My mom read it to me when I was younger.”

Camille sees an opportunity to mess with him and takes it. “Wasn’t it crazy how Laurie set the March house on fire and all of them died?”

Spencer furrows his brows in confusion.

“I, um, I don’t remember that part.”

Camille immediately registers Reid’s discomfort. “I was just messing with you.”

“Oh.” Spencer nods and forces a laugh. “I should, um, probably get back. Do you want anything before I go? Coffee, water, maybe?”

“I’m okay, thanks.”

“Alright, I’ll be back to check on you.” Reid scrunches his lips into a small smile before closing the door behind him.

As he makes his way back to the round table, he smiles so widely, that when Morgan passes him, he notices.

“Stop it right there, Pretty Boy.”

Reid stops in his tracks.

“Now turn around.”

Reid obeys.

“Why do you look like a kid in a candy shop right now? What did I miss?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

For someone that studies behavior, he’s not too good at lying. Morgan sees right through Reid.

“Come on, man. You can tell me.”

Penelope passes by.

“Tell him what? Whatcha hiding, Boy Wonder?”

“Nothing. I’m not hiding anything.”

Morgan and Garcia look at him with skepticism.

“Did you hear how his voice did that thing? His voice only gets that high when he’s lying.” Garcia notes.

Reid clears his throat to deliberately speak in a lower pitch. “No it doesn’t.”

Garcia squints her eyes at him. “What do you not want us to know?”

“Guys, seriously. It’s nothing.”

“Is this about Cruz’s niece?” Morgan asks, hitting the nail on the head.

“Ooh, I knew something was fishy when you shook her hand.”

“It was just a handshake, okay?”

“Well, excuse me, but I’m having a hard time believing you.” Morgan cleverly retorts.

“I don’t like her. If that’s what you’re implying.”

Morgan smirks. “Oh is that so? Then riddle me this Pretty Boy - where were you just now?”

Reid loosens his tie, feeling like it’s a noose.

“Oh did you see that? His body language is speaking for itself. And it’s saying A LOT.” Garcia giggles.

“Go get em, tiger.” Morgan leaves Reid to his devices with a pat on his shoulder.

“Shut up.”

. . .

No longer reading, Camille is scanning her uncle’s shelves - looking at the pictures and the books, and opening and closing different cabinets or drawers in his desk. A knock on the door startles her.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m just checking in. How are you?”

She frowns. “Incredibly bored. I finished my book like thirty minutes ago.”

Reid checks his watch.

“How long was I gone?”

A small laugh leaves her lips. “I was basically at the end when you left.”

Reid’s lips shift to one side of his face as he thinks of something to help Camille out. “Um, I - I have newspapers. With, with crosswords on them. I can bring them to you.”

Reid rushes out of the room and comes back awfully quickly with a stack of newspapers. Camille laughs delightfully at the sight of them.

“These are scans of ones I’ve already solved.”

“You’ve solved all of these? What are you? Some kind of genius?”

“I don’t believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified. But I do have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words per minute.”

Camille is in awe.

“Uh, yes, I’m a genius.”

“So what I’m hearing is, if I get stuck on a word, I could just ask you and you’d remember what the right answer was?”

“Kind of takes the fun out of solving it yourself, don’t you think?”

“Not if it means I get to see you again.”

Reid laughs uncomfortably. “Uh, so how will I know if you need help?”

“I’ll text you.”

“You don’t have my - Oh got it.”

Camille makes a face and hands him her phone to take. He makes a contact for himself and hands her back the phone.

“Great. See you in an hour, Laurie.”

Reid’s caught off guard.

“If I’m Laurie, are you Jo or Amy?”

“Well that depends. Am I the best friend or the love interest?”

Reid raises his eyebrows in surprise.

“I resonate more with Amy - if that’s what you were asking. I’m young and driven - like her.”

“I always thought Amy to be sort of a brat.”

"She knows what she wants. So do I.”

“Oh yeah? And what do you want?” This is a newfound display of confidence coming from the Doctor. It catches her by surprise.

Camille doesn’t play into it, just to tease him. “What I want is for you and your team to catch this guy, so I can go home.”

“I should, uh, I should go back now. See you in an hour.”

“Looking forward to it.” She says sarcastically.

. . .

Reid is working on the geographical profile when he feels his phone buzz. Without even needing to see it, he knows it’s Camille.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: You’re late for your check in, Doctor.

Reid looks at his watch. He’s only three minutes late.

REID: Sorry, I’m busy. And you’re only supposed to text when you have a question. That wasn’t a question.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Fine, here's a question - when are you gonna make your hourly check in?

REID: A question pertaining to the crossword.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Los Angeles Times. 64 down. Clue is “Dr. Reid is late for his check in. When should he be expected?”

REID: The ‘Amy’ in you is showing.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: The brat part of her or the love interest part of her?

REID: Former.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: It’s fine. I can wait. Nowhere else I have to be anyway.

REID: I’ll be there when I’m done.

. . .

Reid is walking through the hall and entering Cruz’s office. Camille works diligently on the crossword.

“Not so fast. You have to stop by the main office and get a tardy slip.” She quips.

“Funny. How’s the crossword?”

“I’ve finished two of them since you’ve been gone.”

Reid glances at his watch. “That doesn’t make any sense. The average time to finish a puzzle is 21 minutes. I’ve been gone for 88.”

"I got distracted.”

“Really? By what?”

Camille fights a smirk. “A little birdie who stopped by.”

Reid shakes his head and exasperates. He needn’t know more to figure out what she meant by this.

"Which one - Garcia or Morgan?”

"Does it matter?”

"What’d they say?”

"Enough.”

"Enough to?”

Camille gets up from the chair and walks around to the front of the desk. This places her right in front of Reid. This is the closest they’ve been yet.

"Enough to let me know whether I’m the best friend or the love interest.”

Camille draws back and grabs her coat from off the chair. She puts it on.

"So who are you? Jo or Amy?”

"Don’t play coy. You know the answer. You are a genius after all.”

Camille grabs her purse off the desk and begins to leave the office.

“Where are you going? I thought you were supposed to leave?”

Camille exits the office and begins to walk into the hallway toward the elevator. The worried doctor follows close behind.

"I’m going for a walk to a cafe. No offense, but I’m not a huge fan of the coffee you’ve got here. Plus, I could use the fresh air.”

"You shouldn’t leave. Especially not alone.”

"Not you, too. Come on. You know I’m not a target. From what I saw in your little conference room, all the victims are blonde. And unless I bleach my hair between here and the time I reach the sidewalk, I think I’ll be okay.”

"Are you at least going to let your Uncle know where you’re going?”

She shoots him a deadpan stare. “What would be the fun in that?”

Camille presses the button near the elevator.

"Anderson can order coffee for you. He’ll bring it back here so you don’t have to leave.” Reid suggests.

"Mmm, no thanks. I’m a big girl.”

The elevator door opens.

“Are you sure about that? Because right now you’re acting like a -”

He hesitates. Camille steps into the elevator and turns on her heels so she can face him before the doors close.

She provokes him. "Say it.”

"You’re acting like a brat!”

"Oh I’m sorry - is my ‘Amy’ showing, Dr. Reid? Well, I am your love interest after all - Laurie.”

Camille winks and the doors close. Reid lets out a frustrated sigh and shakes his head and he begins to jog to the stairwell. With speed and caution he only exhibits when trying to apprehend an unsub, he flies down the stairs. His slender figure can’t support this kind of cardio, but nonetheless, he runs.

When he finds himself in the parking garage, just beside the elevator, he sees Camille several feet away, walking out of the structure completely. He runs as fast as his feet can take him. Eventually he reaches her before she’s on the main sidewalk.

"Camille, wait!”

He’s breathless and red. Camille walks back over to him with a devilish grin.

"Did you actually just run all the way here?”

"What gave me away?”

This earns a hearty laugh from Camille.

"I’m coming with you.” He breathlessly explains.

"Why didn’t you say so earlier? Would’ve saved you the marathon.”

"Yeah, yeah, be quiet.”

“Swallow your pride. Occasionally, it’s not fattening.”

“Frank Tyger. Touché.”

She’s even more impressed at his knowledge of the quote she recited. This makes her more keen to starting an actual dialogue with him instead of just provoking him.

“So why’d they leave you behind?” She asks.

“They didn’t leave me behind. I just choose not to go. I’m notorious for being prone to gunshot wounds, so I choose to stay where I know I’ll be safe. What about you? Why’d Cruz bring you to the office?”

"For the same reason you stayed back. He wants me somewhere I’ll be safe.”

"You’re a little old for a babysitter, don’t you think?”

“You would think, but Uncle Matt has this gift where every time he looks at me, he still sees his helpless 8 year old niece.”

“What happened when you were 8?”

Camille doesn’t even realize what she might’ve accidentally revealed. “Freudian slip. Nothing you need to worry about.”

"You sure?”

“All you need to know is that what happened to me motivated him to work in the field. Ever since then he’s been working to get to the top.”

"So how old are you anyway, little woman?”

"Oh, is that my nickname now? An outright juxtaposition of “big girl” and a reference to the book?”

"Mhm.”

"21.”

"Wow, you really are a little woman.”

"Better than being an old man.”

“Old man? I’m 32.”

"My point exactly.”

"You’re welcome by the way. For doing this.” He adds.

"Oh please, I didn’t ask you to walk me to the cafe.”

“But you wanted me to.”

"Oh wow, you know about reverse psychology. Congrats you’re with the other 98% of the population that does too. Don’t act like you’re doing me a favor. You wouldn’t have followed me if you didn’t want to come.”

"What I want is for you to be safe.”

"Like I said before, I don’t fit the victimology. He has a type and it’s not me. I’m fine going by myself.”

"You know something? You’re really stubborn. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“Aww, I’m so hurt. Boo hoo.” She sarcastically remarks.

“You think you can be just a little bit nicer to me? I am babysitting you after all.”

Camille halts.

“I’m gonna ignore the babysitting part, but yes, I can be nice, but right now, I’ve spent 6 hours cooped up in my uncle’s office bored out of my mind.”

"So what? You’re only toying with me because you’re bored and I’m your only entertainment?”

“Oh congrats! You finally figured it out, genius.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

74 notes · View notes

parksseonghwas · 4 years

Text

espresso martinis and red hair.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

part one!

a/n: there is some wording that, now that i read it, implies???? seonghwa drugged the reader.

i promise he did not!!! for those who aren’t very knowledgable in drink/alcoholic beverages, vodka is a really strong alcohol no matter what it’s mixed with (oftentimes it’s >=30% alcohol) so if the reader has a particularly weak alcohol tolerance it won’t take much vodka to make them very drunk!

that’s how i’ve intended for it to be written! this kinda turned into seongsang x reader sorry :\

another point is that the alcohol names? they’re from irish pubs or bars haha, i’m irish and yeah,,, please don’t joke about the stereotypes

i’m so sorry to the requests i put off to write this

ೃ❅,. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ ┊͙ w/c: 2,316

—

park seonghwa was skilled at his job. he grabbed the bottle of kahlua—topped by a speed pourer, of course—with his index and middle finger, flipped it to pour the intoxicating liquid into a metal, double-sided cocktail measure, which would soon flip into a shaker made from the same material. alongside other ingredients, he threw in vodka, espresso, and a handful of ice. the top was shoved onto the container, slapped, and there was a rough shaking sound emitting from the metal as he wasted no time with theatrics or shoddy cocktail shaking. his movements were oddly poetic though.

once he was satisfied with the amount of condensation gathering on the metal, he slowed his rigorous motions and his hand smacked the side of the cups, loosening the top and setting it aside to be washed. he disappeared for a moment to grab glasses that steamed and were surrounded by cold smoke, having been in the refrigerator. a strainer came into view, and the deceivingly shallow glasses were filled with what was known to many as an espresso martini. seonghwa delicately placed two coffee beans in the centre of the drink, and the display was complete.

you didn’t order this. you were about to order, but your ever-so-knowledgable friend told you that “seonghwa makes a drink that he knows you won’t be able to resist”, but... an espresso martini? one of the most basic cocktails? there would have to be a fucking bunny rabbit appearing from the glass for you to be impressed or found to be unable to resist it.

your mouth opened to make a snarky comment, but the bartender’s eyebrow raised in a “you dare to challenge my intuition?” manner, and you found yourself sheepishly accepting the drink. the knowledge that he made you weak would later make seonghwa’s ego inflate like a damn balloon.

the man was all chains, piercings, and cockiness. the bar was a small joint, cosy, but not too comfortable. dimly lit, not dark. it felt shady, but homely. he was free of customers after he made your drink so he danced to the beat of the music pulsating through the speakers, hips swaying and his body completely under his command. his dyed red hair fell over his eye as he watched you take the first sip. a smirk grew on his face as he saw the look of surprise, confusion, and awe overtake your features.

another point to hwa, he laughed internally. really, he’d lost score of how many customers he pleased.

“okay, what the fuck did you do to this drink? why does the martini taste so good?” the snappy words were in the open before you had a chance to filter them, and the previous cheeky smirk was replaced with a laugh and a warm smile. he guessed the reaction, he’s used to it.

the last thing you remember him saying is, “a magician never reveals his secrets.”

NIGHT TWO

the next morning you woke up alone, thankfully. nonetheless, his words echoed in your head, no matter how loud your music blared and wrecked your head. the crimson red colour of his hair would come to your memory every so often, and you hated that he had such a magnetic presence. if you weren’t so hungover, you would have considered going for a second round of drinks with your friend. you guessed he used a higher quality vodka, or a better coffee liqueur because damn just a couple of those martinis made you paralytic.

to your dismay, a magician would never reveal his secrets.

the sound of ice and alcohol mixing in the shaker. the almost kaleidoscopic vision of his hands gripping the metal. the scent of intoxication with a faint coffee undertone in the air. the taste of pure heaven on your tongue as a new style of a basic drink flowed from the opening of your lips right down the back of your throat.

fuck seonghwa.

fuck seonghwa!

his cocky attitude, the smile on his lips once he noticed that his prediction was correct. you could kill him, really. you could kill your dear friend too, she probably told him about the drink, the fucker.

your mind was made up. when the bastard hangover shifted, you made your way to your wardrobe. not long afterwards you were dressed up, not to the nines or anything fancy. it was a bar, not a nightclub or an upscale restaurant. you were trying to prove a point to a skilled bartender who just happened to put a satisfying spin on a drink you hadn’t tasted in months.

high heels emitted a muted clack against a sticky floor, a constant reminder that the owner of the bar probably didn’t give a fuck who dropped their drinks. similar music blurred into the background, the bass vibrating below the soles of your feet as you made your way to the remaining empty barstool.

a cloth squeaked and twisted against a glass as seonghwa cleaned the remnants of beer from it. he wore a white and red patterned shirt, the sleeves rolled and crunched at his elbows. his forearms tensed and flexed as he cleaned, his voice low and smooth as he converses with his fellow bartender, who you knew—or rather... your friend knew—as hongjoong.

the pair discussed whatever topic came to mind, and they seemed comfortable with each other. the elder of the two lifted his head as though he sensed your presence, and swivelled on his heels to face you with a devilish smile. hongjoong simply went to serve another over-eager customer who was practically begging to be slapped.

“espresso martini girl. i’ll assume you’re wanting the same drink again?” a barely there glint in his eye meant that he was enjoying this, revelling in the thrill he got from knowing you were getting more and more flustered.

“i’ll have you know i do have a name.” the words came out sharp, snappy, snarky. you hated that he brought out this nature in you, but you really couldn’t help it. his playful attitude combined with his stunning looks was an equation that equalled you being an internal mess.

a mirthless laugh filled the short space of air between you and the mixologist. either he was impressed by the balls you thought you had to speak to him in such a manner, or he was pissed off. the second option sounded rather terrifying, though.

“i know your name. you were wasted last night and shouting it at the top of your lungs while you ordered rounds for the whole bar.“ the sharp clunky against the bar signalled that seonghwa was satisfied with how clean the glass was.

a flash of a memory came at his description of the night previous.

a loud cheer resounded from your lips as your friend tried to quieten you down, and you mimicked her shushing action overdramatically. “a round of shots for everyone in the bar!” you cried out, brandishing your empty shot glass in the air. seonghwa himself suggested that shots may be a better option since the martinis were loaded with vodka.

“really, i think you were lucky i knew you were fucking wasted and didn’t mean a word of it.” he pulled out a footed pilsner glass, tilted it, and pulled the lever on the coors light tap, then poured the drink with an expert hand. with little foam gathering at the top, seonghwa gave the drink to an older man who seemed knowledgeable in his alcohol taste; judging from the cold glass of coors light sitting in front of him, you knew different.

your eyes rolled instinctively, and your blood boiled with the knowledge that he was right. or... was your blood boiling because you were too hot in the small bar? you weren’t wearing heavy layers or large coats, so what was the explanation for the amount of heat rushing through every inch of your skin?

“fuck you, i wasn’t wasted!” you retorted weakly. both of you knew it was false though.

“wasted or not, did i get your order right last night?“ he leaned over, arms crossed and propping him up just mere centimetres from

you. the scent of various drinks cling to him like a newfound lifeline, and inhaling felt like taking a new drug.

“no, i drink cosmopolitans. but it was a nice shake-up, if you’ll excuse the pun.” cheeky smiles warped your features, knowing you had outsmarted the apparently all-knowing bartender. you watched his own expression contort into one of confusion.

how did he get it wrong? how did he manage to fuck up the one thing he thought set him apart from other mixologists and bartenders? he’ll admit that the pun was mildly amusing. however, if it was to be paired with the fact that he messed up that badly? he was never going to forget it.

you were never going to let him live it down either, and the hours of relentless teasing made the minutes slip away into nothing. you didn’t even feel the time pass, or maybe that’s because he made you a couple more martinis, and you were tipsy once again.

though... you couldn’t really tell if it was the alcohol or his presence that was intoxicating you. maybe it was a mixture of both.

before long, hongjoong was gone and replaced with a completely different presence. the new worker was threatening, yet he seemed comforting. sharply contrasted hair, large numbers of piercings, dark makeup and outfits made him seem... too scary. he smiled at his coworker, seonghwa, and his lips curled to reveal a smiley piercing, almost complementary to the bar that ran through seonghwas bottom lip.

“yeosang, you look like a fucking ghoul mask with that makeup.” seonghwa laughed, a smooth sound you had become all too accustomed to.

imagine hearing it when he’s teasing you relentlessly in bed.

woah. where did that thought come from? you screwed your eyes shut and your hand came too sharp to your forehead with an unflattering smack. maybe it triggered more lewd thoughts, but you’d never tell them to the stranger across from the bar, especially when you weren’t totally sober.

pulled by an invisible thread, yeosang took seonghwa’s place in your line of sight. he got to be centimetres away from your face, and he was almost mocking you. you were tipsy from little to nothing. hell, you even asked seonghwa to “slow it down!” when he was pouring the cîroc. you knew your shit, that was 40% alcohol and 100% a bad decision if you weren’t intending on getting wasted.

he picked up a glass and poured water into it, pushing it back across the bar to you, “i think we can safely cut you off there, hm?” he teased, knowing full well he had no control over how much a customer can drink. still, the gesture sent a fluttering feeling to your chest. he was all piercings and hard exterior, but god he seemed soft.

the aftercare must be godly if he’s like this when you’re sober.

maybe you need to get away from the bar. the bartenders being pretty and your mind being intoxicated was doing nothing to stop any new thoughts from flooding in unwarned and unannounced. yet, the horror on your face after four futile attempts at turning on your phone alerted yeosang that something wasn’t right.

“what’s happened? you look worried.” his features warped and his previously stone cold expression changed into one of pure concern. you laughed mirthlessly, and you watched as the mixologist tilted his head in confusion. what was so funny to you?

“my phones dead. i was about to call a taxi and get out of here but my phone battery clearly had other plans.” your elbows came to rest on the surface of the bar, your chin in your palms and your head shaking in pure disbelief. this night was fantastic, you were bantering with the pretty bartender who blew your mind, and now there’s another equally pretty bartender pitying you as you lamented the loss of your one connection to a way home.

“what phone do you have? one of us might have a charger we can lend you.” after he finished speaking, one of your hands went into your jacket pocket and feebly threw the phone on the bar. yeosang inspected it under the lights—or lack thereof—and huffed out a breath of air in exasperation, “fuck. not the same charger we have, sorry.”

you raised your eyebrows with a flat expression, unfazed by the unfortunate news.

“we don’t have a freephone yet, so is there anything i can do?”

“unless you can personally drive me home, there’s not much you can do.”

maybe yeosang would regret his next words, maybe he wouldn’t. he didn’t really know because he was so used to being teasing and relentless in his mocking ways. if he was to wreck his image over a cute bar-goer, so be it!

“well... where do you live?”

53 notes · View notes

good-rwbyaus · 4 years

Text

Be Careful Who You Blackmail pt. 1 / 2. | #Criminal Minds RWBY AU | mod lilac

AU Description: Based on n3b1r1us's AU Prompt where Jaune's plans usually consist of crimes. Also, Ren is the sole voice of reason because the rest of team JNPR are filthy enablers.

Cardin blackmails the wrong person. Story’s written in Cardin’s POV.

previous piece in this AU :: The Voice of Reason

Uggh. His head. Why’d it feel like he got hit with a sledgehammer or that all the blood in his body was rushing to his head? Did he fall out of bed or somethi-

Wait. Something’s wrong. It’s too windy. Wasn’t he sleeping in his tent earlier? Why was he outsi-

Cardin startled as he opened his eyes, the world upside-down as he dangled from a tree branch. Even worse was that the tree branch he was hanging from happened to be jutting past a cliffside, and underneath him was the forest of Forever Fall, cloaked in the shadow of night.

The alarming thing was that, underneath the ropes tying him like a hog, he was clad only in his boxers. No weapons, no armor, just him and the very real dangers of Remnant. Seriously, he needed to get out of here and find his way back before the Gri-

“Grrrrrrggr.”

His gaze turned directly downwards and met a pair of glowing red eyes. His throat dried up as a large vague outline peeked out of the treeline, a stalwart figure that only meant one thing in these parts.

The Grimm. An Ursa.

“Shit!” he couldn’t help but yell when the Ursa rose on its hindlegs, its attention clearly on him. Wiggling and flailing like a worm, he screamed to anyone that would listen, “Somebody. Anybody! Help!”

“You know if you keep screaming and moving, I might not be able to keep hanging onto this rope,” spoke a familiar voice.

Wasn’t that....

With dawning horror, Cardin lifted his gaze from the Ursa and spotted the last person he expected to see on the cliff. Peeking out from behind the tree he was tied to, Jaune waved his hand jauntily while holding his lifeline in his hand.

No way. Jaune didn’t have the guts to do what he was threatening. This was after all Jaune, a doormat shaped like a person. Didn’t voice a complaint despite the humiliating things he’s requested Jaune to do in exchange for not telling Ozpin about the blond’s faked transcripts. Hell, even during this trip, he was always scurrying away and hiding in the most random places in Forever Fall just to avoid him. A clear bluff.

Cardin gritted his teeth in anger and sent a sneer towards his fellow classmate.

"Jaune! When I get out of these ropes, I’m going t- AHHH!" Gravity suddenly took hold of his body, the ground closing extremely fast. His eyes closed shut as his screams rang through the night.

“Hurk.” A sudden resistance took hold as the rope around his feet pulled taut.

Realizing he’d been given a momentary reprieve, Cardin opened his eyes once more and found the Ursa was a lot closer than he’d like. Its claws groped skywards trying to reach the tasty morsel just dangling out of its reach. A warbling discontent growl echoed from its maw as he felt himself being pulled upward towards the cliff edge and met the face of his tormentor once more.

"I was really patient, you know. Ren said that bullies go away if you don't give them a reaction,” Jaune explained as he kneeled down to meet him eye-to-eye, the same innocent smile still plastered on - as if the blond hadn’t tried to send him to his death seconds earlier. "And well you just didn’t go away. So you thought to blackmail me instead.” The blond began unfurling the rope in his grip, Cardin belatedly realizing what his classmate was going to do again.

“STO-!”

He felt another jolt as he descended the cliff in freefall, screaming. Only when he felt the rope pull taut against his legs did he have the courage to open his eyes once again. He wish he hadn’t. He saw the metallic glint of the Ursa’s claws sail right past his nose, the wind of its swipes beating upon his face. He was so close to the abomination that he could smell it, a disgusting cloying mix of sugary syrup and iron. And within its eyes, he could see his brutal death reflected in its crimson hues. Even with Aura, you don’t survive an Ursa, even a Minor, without weapons and armor. "Stop lowering me Jaune! Pull me up! Pull me up! If you don’t, I’m going to-!”

What was his stupid mouth about to say?! Threatening Jaune at this point? When Jaune was already willing to go this far?!

“Jaune! Come on. We can talk it out! You know you can’t get away with this. I won’t say anything if you just st-"

"Oh. I am going to get away with this; I just haven’t gotten to that part yet,” Jaune grinned. “You know, I nearly died several times trying to find the most obscure places to hide, knowing that you and your team were looking for me, even after off hours." The blond rubbed his jaw with his free hand. “I even remember taking a couple punches for inconveniencing you too.”

The insane boy moved his hand away from his chin and snapped his fingers. “But now team CRDL has the reputation of being reckless explorers, breaking the rules to explore deeper into dangerous areas. Such a gunner, you. Even going out at night to prove your worth.” The blond sniffled a few times, hand wiping a fake tear, as if he were a proud parent watching his kid get an award.

“Not a bad result from a game of hide and seek, right?” the blond looked straight at him, grinning.

How- Him chasing Jaune through Forever Fall was part of Jaune’s plans? How many steps was Jaune thinking ahead? How long was he planning all this behind his back? How deep was he in the other boy’s schemes?! He’d always thought it a joke when people said Jaune was a brilliant tactician, but....

Cardin shivered as he felt himself being slowly pulled upwards towards the cliff again. His blood turned cold upon seeing the expression that met him, Jaune looking like the very cat that’s found a mouse to 'play’ with. He wanted to say something more to Jaune, but the fear that he’d say the wrong thing and be sent plunging to his death stayed his tongue.

“And well, as for me getting away with this...”

Jaune opened up a Scroll and revealed a screen displaying a live recording dot and a familiar blond figure talking to the rest of team JNPR at the campfire.

Cardin could only stare at the Scroll in horror.

"How?”

“You don’t have to ask where I got the body double. In any case when morning comes and roll call happens, everything’s going to think Cardin Winchester bit more than he can chew and never came back,” Jaune said solemnly. “Your team...well, your team will go on an ill-advised journey to avenge you and then disappear forever into the depths of Forever Fall. No one will ever find the bodies.”

The blond held his chest with his free hand and closed his eyes, momentarily silent.

“I’m sure Beacon Academy will provide your families the appropriate remuneration.”

This lunatic's going to kill him. And he’s not going to let off the rest of his team. His heart pounded like a jackhammer. Jaune’s seriously trying to kill him. This isn’t a joke. He’s going to die. He doesn’t want to die. No-

“Look Jaune. Jaune. Buddy. Friend. I wasn’t really going to tell Ozpin. Really. It-was-a-joke. And-”

“Yeah about that, I'll admit those forgeries weren’t my greatest work,” Jaune scratched his chin in bemusement. “They look good at first glance and even at second glance, but well it was my first time, and I might’ve overdone it when I realized it might give me a chance to meet my idol.”

“But there’s no good excuses for poor work, and I really have a reputation to keep,” Jaune stated sincerely before looking at him straight in the eyes, expression as serious as death.

This didn’t seem quite right. Wasn’t Jaune scared about being expelled from Beacon? When did this becom-

Jaune must’ve seen the surprise in his eyes because the blond laughed.

“Oh. You were thinking Professor Ozpin would expel me for something like a fake transcript?” Jaune laughed, “After I made it this far? After showing I can learn and become a great tactician and leader? When there’s students from Beacon who’ve never been to any sort of combat academy at all? As far as I’m concerned...”

“He’d probably give me extra credit if he knew,” Jaune bared a toothy grin. “Cardin, the only reasons why I let you blackmail me was because I didn’t need to be known as someone who did shoddy work and that I didn’t want my peers thinking I cheated the system to get in. Even if I totally did.”

“Wow. What a funny misunderstanding. But... well now we’re here, “ Jaune shrugged, “Though one of us won’t be shortly.”

His heart skipped a beat, alarm bells ringing in his head. His breath turned unsteady as he tried not to succumb to the growing panic and horror; he thought he had Jaune figured out, only to find he’d been provoking a complete psychopath all along.

“Look. Jaune. I won’t say anything at all. I won’t bother you ever again. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll clean your clothes. I’ll clean your team’s clothes. I’ll pay y-”

“Your offer sounds really good,” Jaune held a hand up as he interrupted, “but I’m the type to get rid of trouble before it festers. I mean, if I get rid of you and your team now, I don’t have to worry about having my reputation smeared in the future. Don’t worry, Cardin. I’ll make sure you have company.” The blond began unwinding the rope from his arm again, “Bye Card-”

“NO! Please! I don’t wanna die. My mom and dad are waiting for me back home. Ihaven’tmade a name for myself. Please! Idonwanttodieireallywanttolive. illwalkyourdog. ill make pancak-” The incoherent blabbling wasn’t something he could help, the words forming faster in his head than his mouth could say them. The tears and nose dripped down his face and forehead as he tried everything to appease this demon from hell. Pride - who needed pride at this point - just as long as he could stay alive!

As he babbled continuously, the blond boy just hummed as if considering his words.

“illbeatupwhoeveryouwant. illbeyourlackey. illfetchyouyourlocker. please don’t kill m-”

“Hmmm,” Jaune tilted his head, “Okay.”

“and I’ll- Huh?” He couldn’t help but drop his jaw in surprise, his brain screeching to a halt at that simple single utterance. After all this talk about killing him, was- was Jaune seriously going to let him go?

“Oh, you’d rather the Ursa have you? Well if that’s the cas-

“No!”

The blond smirked in amusement.

“Alright. I’ll let you go for now. But remember, if you speak a word about this or the other thing to anyone else...”

“I won’t. I swear. I’ll-” He was definitely going to stay far away from the clearly unstable blond if he could help it. No one can pay him enough t-

“Just remember, I can get to you at any time. It might be eaten by an Ursa today,” Jaune whimsically said, “It could be maimed by a disgruntled bunny-eared Faunus tomorrow. Well. Good night.”

“Good nigh-? Urgkurguurugurg.”

His body spasmed uncontrollably as something struck into the back of his neck. And then he knew no more.

#criminal minds RWBY AU #jaune arc #rwby au #cardin winchester #and no not Neo #rwby fanfic #mod lilac

68 notes · View notes

madroxed · 4 years

Text

the order (season two) thoughts.

so chotoranii asked me for my thoughts on the order season two. of which there are many. posting them here rather than in a reply so tumblr doesn’t fuck up the ‘keep reading’ break.

SO MANY SPOILERS AHEAD, OBVIOUSLY.

OK FOLKS, LET’S DO THIS. SORRY ABOUT THE WORD COUNT.

the good, the bad, and the incomprehensible.

ok SO. overall i thought this season was so much better than season one, especially in terms of production and acting.

i should start by saying, the biggest twist of this season? ME LIKING JACK AS A BLOND. i’ve been dragging that hair for months and i end up digging it? i’m so mad at myself.

ANYWAY the first three episodes? flawless! beautiful! amazing! they honestly took everything i could have listed as wanting and put it onscreen. jack trying out for cheer squad and having to stay on cheer squad to keep up the act? them finding each other almost immediately? the jokes about orgies? jack taking the knights seriously and holding on to his anger over the memory wipe? lilith and nicole? nicole in general? RANDALL AND HAMISH FAKE DATING (however briefly, seriously, i will be writing fic where they have to keep that up because i am betrayed that it was never brought up again and if you think i didn’t throw my laptop across the bed so i could run around screaming you’d be wrong)? A MAGIC HEIST?

honestly, all perfect.

............then the season started to go downhill. don’t get me wrong, there were still some excellent parts, but they were hindered by two things:

the plot jumping about too much to be comprehensible.

the fact that we the viewers are supposed to believe that randall carpio and hamish duke would not tear the world apart for lilith bathory immediately.

the first is forgivable; the first season’s plot was a simple enough device that meant it dragged a little at times. this season they seemed to not want to fall into that trap again, but in doing so threw something so big in that they needed far too much exposition because they didn’t have enough time to show it (a trait they fell into in a lot of ways, we’ll get back to that). SHOW, DON’T TELL, FOLKS. that being said, i really liked salvadore as a character, and the idea of a group of people striving to make magic accessible to all was a cool moral quandary plot.

the second is unforgivable to me, and led to the majority of my issues with the season. i understand the knights becoming members of the order (cool concept), i understand them struggling with conflicting loyalties because of it, but what i don’t understand is the fact that randall spent the majority of the season saying “let’s get lilith back!” only to back down at the first push back, and hamish was the push back. because......the order had other problems. IN WHAT UNIVERSE DO THE KNIGHTS OF SAINT CHRISTOPHER NOT PUT EACH OTHER FIRST AND SAY FUCK EVERYONE ELSE?

(jack i understand, if only because we saw so much of it last season. his loyalties are kinda flaky. i do understand his loyalty to vera; not only did she play a huge part in taking down edward last season, but the mind link thing and learning all her pain would have stuck with him. he loves a cause, that boy. also hey ho! jack was so much more likeable this season! we love to see it.)

also i just really missed lilith.

(thank fuck for nicole never giving up.)

the amount of callbacks to season one were fantastic. they didn’t just move on and leave it be, they referenced basically everyone, and seeing professor clarke and kyle again was a nice touch just to tie things together. there also being discussions about jack’s pete related trauma was great and necessary.

ok, so alyssa. i take back my post about how great it would be for her to be the villain. this was so much better. her trauma in the wake of both season one and then accidentally killing someone leading to her feeling so conflicted and lost and alone? her magic malfunctioning when it’s all she feels she has? we’ve always known she was ambitious, but to see her face straight on the idea that she may be left completely powerless and no one really listening or trying to help her except a hive mind that’s also hurting her? o u c h.

we saw this season that the real problem with the order is its motto of ‘hurry up and wait’. ‘we’ll save lilith.....just do all these other things first!’ ‘we’ll get alyssa’s magic back......there’s just more important things right now!’ it’s all so easy to see how that could frustrate someone so much they can’t take it anymore.

i’m so pleased i loved alyssa so much this season. i desperately wanted to and i’m glad they gave me that. i just felt so much for her. she just wanted to not feel so alone and so helpless and so scared that she was going to pick the wrong side again. it was beautiful.

this also meant alyssa/jack was better this season. having got the insta-love out the way last season (ugh), this season they were able to actually look at how that would play out if you took ramifications into consideration. all the problems i had with them last season were vocalised onscreen, and this new unstable thing left in its place was far more appealing to watch. they were messy and bad for each other and they knew it, but that didn’t stop them loving each other.

also: “if we get out of this, can i take you to the mall? because i really hate your jean jacket. and your hair.”

in regards to the other relationships:

lilith and nicole were adorable for the limited amount of time we got them onscreen. the slow crush to nervous dating was beautiful, and seeing lilith struggle with what getting her memories back meant in regards to that was great. we all know i thought the lilith/randall of last season was rushed, so having lilith torn over hurting one of the most important people in her life and following these feelings for someone new was lovely. IF WE GET A SEASON THREE I BETTER GET SO MUCH MORE OF THEM.

here’s the thing, putting aside lilith/nicole for a moment: the order can’t write good relationships (*with one major caveat).

hear me out.

in season one it was insta-love. jack and alyssa meet and suddenly defending alyssa is the only thing that matters to jack. it....wasn’t good. randall and lilith were thrown together with very little build up and we were supposed to roll with it.

this season we had both hamish/vera and randall/gabrielle. i would like to say that theoretically i am here for both of these. but.

hamish/vera occurred off screen. oh, sure, we had a couple scenes of them staring at each other over drinks, but that was all we got until late into the season. we were told that hamish and vera were a thing by randall when he was winding hamish up. we didn’t see it for ourselves. again, this show’s habit of telling not showing is a problem.

hamish and vera could make sense. two leaders of opposing factions having sort of hate, begrudging respect sex? i see it. from there, you can show us how it would become something more.

the show doesn’t.

we’re told they’re together. we’re told hamish is forsaking his knightly duties in favour of vera. we’re told by hamish that he’s drunk the order koolaid,

and all of this is supposed to culminate in us believing that hamish duke - tundra, leader of the knights of saint christopher, the most cunning of the wolves - would push aside everything else because he just believes that much in vera stone? to the point that he would all but abandon lilith and degrade his relationship with randall to randall being the annoying sidekick?

i woke up at two a.m. to write a note on my phone that says: ‘the greatest tragedy of the order season two is hamish duke’s character assassination.’ and i stand by that.

besides lilith’s absence for almost the whole season, it’s the thing i’m most mad about. i love hamish so much and to one-dimensionalise him in favour of a ship is...............shoddy work honestly.

so like i said. HAMISH/VERA COULD HAVE BEEN GOOD, BUT FOR FUCKSAKE SHOW, YOU HAVE TO ACTUALLY DEVELOP THIS SHIT.

randall/gabrielle was better developed. by which i mean we actually saw them interacting on screen. we got to see them begrudgingly working together, we saw him learn more about her, we heard them talk about her need to fit in somewhere. when they made the joke about being bffs? good stuff. would i like them to slowburn this shit? yes please. have them become best friends and then have those feelings be something else. i would really like that. the show just needs to.......slow down. not immediately see a single character and need to throw them into a relationship with the nearest person.

gabrielle was great this season. by which i mean, she was gabrielle, and we love some consistent characterisation. i think it’s so true to everything we know about her that she’d want to inject herself into the knights’ world; she wants to be part of the in-crowd, and right now that’s them. she’s also supremely jealous of alyssa because, to her, it seemed like alyssa had the best of both worlds. so, yes, her wanting to be around the knights and that developing into her begrudgingly liking them makes a lot of sense to me.

so, my caveat.

the relationship the order knows how to write? the knights. hamish, randall, lilith, and jack. that dynamic saved season one from being a total mess. that dynamic thrived in the early episodes of this season. IT’S JUST THAT GOOD. i said once that if the order just became greek (2007) but with werewolves i’d be happy, and the first three episodes really gave me that.

THE KNIGHTS ARE EACH OTHER’S SOULMATES, ASK ME HOW.

is this an excuse for me to complain that they gave us a hint of hamish/randall and then cruelly snatched it away and i’m still mad about it? YOU BETCHA.

is this also my way of saying there wasn’t nearly enough jack/randall this season? YOU BETCHA.

removing lilith from the equation (I’M STILL SO MAD) and then having hamish pull away from randall because..........who the fuck knows, was just a recipe for disaster.

clearly lilith is the glue that holds these idiots together.

so, vera. katherine isabelle still just steals every scene she’s in. i love her. i love vera’s characterisation. i love that she’s shamelessly ambitious but also wants the order to succeed and the world not to end. i love that she can be cold and cruel and still have such soft spots for both jack and alyssa. i love that she can be vulnerable and angry about it. i just........think vera’s pretty fucking great, tbh.

i still don’t understand why the knights - after their infiltration revenge plans go tits up - decide to just go full on order. like??????? hamish and jack barely even questioning anything???? randall must have spent most of this season feeling so alone.

that being said, when jack said to nicole and randall that he knew what they needed to get lilith back and the conversation pretty much went:

jack: you’re okay betraying the order?

nicole: for lilith, anything.

randall: i’d literally betray the order for a cookie, haven’t you been listening?

we love to see it.

OH, HEY GUYS, REMEMBER WHEN IAN ZIERING AND JASON PRIESTLEY WERE MEMBERS OF THE ORDER AND JASON PRIESTLEY BECAME GRAND MAGUS FOR A HOT SECOND???? that was written solely for me. i do not know who this show thinks its audience is, but it understands me to my core.

so...............i have zero clue where the show intends to go from here. i just need alyssa to be ok and i hope - like his friend randall - jack is willing to kill whoever the hell he has to to make that happen. (we stan randall straight up murdering someone to get lilith back and making sure nicole remains innocent and safe tbh.)

SO TL;DR: the early episodes gave me life. the show declined from there, but i still enjoyed it a lot. the order is at its best when the knights are a team, i loved alyssa’s story this season, and i have no clue what to expect from next season (if we get one). werewolf alyssa? villain jack, perhaps? we’ll see!

THIS POST PROBABLY SEEMS TOO NEGATIVE BUT HI! I STILL LOVED THIS SEASON A LOT AND I LOVE MY KIDS WITH MY WHOLE HEART AND IF YOU READ ALL A MILLION WORDS OF THIS THEN I LOVE YOU TOO.

also if anyone has any hamish/randall prompts i’ll be hanging out over here crying into my hands for the next few weeks. FAKE DATING. how dare they?!

#the order #the order spoilers #the order netflix #THIS IS.....TOO LONG I'M SORRY #i love this show so much????#but it's also a mess?????#basically my brand lbh

86 notes · View notes

thiswasinevitableid · 4 years

Note

I’m so excited to read these prompt fills! Can I suggest 13 with sternclay? Rating is up to you!

I’m so glad you’re excited, I hope you’re enjoying them!

13: “we make contact before trying to steal the last seat on the subway/bus/train and I end up in your lap and fuck you, I’m going to stay here because I’ve had a really long day and this seat was mine” I went with SFW.

This was not the Halloween (or, more accurately weekend before Halloween) celebration Stern had in mind. The posters made it look like it would be a fun mashup of cheesy horror and fall food. But no, instead it’s just another excuse for his peers to get plastered downtown and eat overpriced brauts.

He even has tomorrow off and everything, he was all set to actually have fun for once and even drank a double-espresso an hour ago so he could stay awake for it.

Boarding the bus, he’s caught up in his thoughts of how he’s going to wile away the hours until he’s tired enough to sleep that he barely spots the last empty bus seat. He’s not the only one.

“Uh, sorry, but I was here first.” The man who’s just sat in his seat gives him an apologetic smile.

“No, I think I was, so move, please.”

“Uh, yeah, no.”

The bus pulls out from the curb, Stern well aware that they’re not even to the most crowded stops downtown, and he is not about to spend the next twenty minutes on his feet crammed in like a sardine.

“Dude, what the hell?” The man pulls his arms away as Stern sits down in his lap, trying to avoid touching him as much as possible.

“I told you it was my seat. So I’m sitting in it.”

Brown eyes lock onto him and for a moment he readies himself for a date with the floor; Stern isn’t a small man, but this guy is like a werewolf in a human suit, broad and tall and obviously strong.

But instead of pushing him, the man just crosses his arms over his chest and shakes his head, “whatever man, just don’t puke on my shoes or some shit.”

“I’m not drunk.”

“Uh huh, sure.” The man turns to look out the nearest window and, after debating whether he wants to keep arguing, Stern does the same to the opposite window.

After four more stops, the bus is so full that he’s getting pressed up against that plaid-clad torso whether he wants to be or not.

The men look at each other sheepishly, the intimacy of their positions demanding something other than annoyed disinterest.

“I, uh, like your shirt.”

Stern looks down at his button-up, patterned to look like the rug in a famous location in Twin Peaks “Thanks. I wanted to wear something Halloween adjacent. You’re the first person to recognize it.”

“Used to hide behind the couch and watch it when my dad had the reruns on. Formative terror tends to hang around.”

“You know, it never scared me. Things like the X-Files never did either. I always saw myself as Agent Cooper or Agent Mulder, and they always seemed like they were going to through things.”

“That explains the hair.” The tone suggests the other man likes what he sees.

“Hah, yeah, I suppose it does.” He touches his hair, still mostly gelled back, a bit self-consciously.

“None of those scenes ever scared you?”

“Not that I remember. What did scare me, oddly enough, was Lost Tapes.”

“Never heard of it.”

“It was on Animal Planet. It wasn’t very good. I have to say, I’m surprised anything scared you, Mr. Big And Strong.”

Wait, was that flirtatious? Did he mean it to be? Does he want it to be?”

A deep chuckle, much friendlier this time, “I’m all bulk and no bite, babe.”

“I’m ‘babe’ now?”

“If you wanna be.”

Stern gears up to say that yes, yes he’d like that very much, when the bus screeches to halt at his stop. He hops up without another word and manages to get through the crush of bodies in one piece. Well, that was a novel, borderline awkward way to end his evening.

“Y’know, you didn’t answer my question.”

The man is standing behind him on the sidewalk, jacket zipped up against the chilly fall air.

Stern’s surprise must register as alarm, because the man quickly adds, “I live a few blocks up on Jenny street.”

“Right, of course. Um. The answer to your question is yes but, well, why on earth would you want to flirt with me?”

“Not every day a cute guy falls into my lap.”

“I sat in your lap because I was being a stubborn prick.”

“Not saying I wasn’t annoyed, but I admired the determination.” A smile, small but candy-sweet, “and I was kinda enjoying talking to you. Lot of people just talk over me. Plus, you’re clearly a nerd, which I dig.”

“You have no idea. I work at the Cryptonomica part-time.”

“Holy shit, you know Ned Chicane? Dude nearly got me arrested once because he asked me to help him fake some Bigfoot footage and didn’t tell me we were shooting on private property until the cops came.”

“That sounds like Mr. Chicane alright. Wait, then that makes you Barclay, right?”

“Got it in one.”

“I’m, um, Joseph.”

“Care to keep talking shit about Ned Chicane all the way back to my place, Joseph?” Barclay offers his arm and Stern takes it, feeling perfectly at home as leaves crunch beneath his feet and a chill nips at his neck. Barclay lives on the ground floor of a shared house, his room containing more cookbooks than furniture. He asks if Stern would like to watch a movie, leaves him in charge of selection while he goes to reheat some cider.

“I found somewhere streaming all the Universal Monsters movies--ooh, this is delicious.”

“Thanks” Barclay blushes, “I came up with the spice blend myself. And I’m down for some old fashion monster movies. If-” he smirks, “you’re willing to show me just what kind of show can scare you.”

Stern loves a challenge, particularly when it’s offered by someone who’s been eyeing his lips ever since they sat down. So he pulls up an episode of Lost Tapes and settles in net to Barclay.

“I warn you, it’s very bad.”

They crack jokes over the poor script and shoddy research, Barclay doing an excellent parody of the narrators voice. The jump scare gets him all the same.

“Shit!” He scrambles to the side, laughing even as he comes down from the menacing figure darting across the frame. A strong arm drapes over his shoulders and he sighs, amused, “I see your endgame now, big guy. Get me scared by a shitty CGI sea monster so I’ll snuggle up for protection.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, babe, you just can’t resist being in my lap.” That burnt-caramel baritone purrs in his ear.

“Behave” Stern elbows him playfully, “or I’ll give up my new favorite spot for the couch.”

“No you won’t. Couch can’t do this, can it?” Barclay kisses his cheek, waits for Stern to turn his head before teasing their lips together, rumbling out a sigh when Stern leans into the gesture.

“No, I don’t think it can. If it does, we should call an exorcist or something.”

“So you’ll stay put through the movies?” Barclay nips his ear.

“Of course; I have the best seat in the house.”

#agent stern/barclay #sternclay #meet ugly #college AU #prompt fill

28 notes · View notes

mexicancat-girl · 3 years

Text

Miraculously Supernatural

Ao3: Link

Wordcount: 2,720, Rated M for character death and one implied sexual scene.

A Miraculous Ladybug fic that's a parody of the Supernatural ending, because those final two episodes were too ridiculous and I felt compelled to. I'm sorry to the Supernatural fans.

...

"I love you," Nathaniel states.

Felix stares back at him blankly, looking like he's barely holding himself back from saying a slur.

Adrien just watches with awkward horror as Nathaniel dies, being pulled into a portal into what looks like Super Mega Hell. "Nathaniel…! Oh my fucking God, he's fucking dead!"

"He dies all the time," Felix reminds him flatly.

"Well, yeah but...Felix, he literally just confessed to you? That's different. Shouldn't we... I dunno... try and bring him back again...?"

"He's an angel, he'll find his way out. He always does."

"Felix, he literally went to Super Mega Hell for being gay for you," Adrien reminds him irately, crossing his arms. "The least you can do is pretend to give a shit."

"I'm still in shock," Felix says, in his usual flat voice, not seeming to feel much of anything. "Now excuse me while I throw up."

"Better than saying a slur, I guess..." Adrien mutters with pure disappointment. Five years and fifteen seasons of homoerotic tension, and Felix was just as emotionally constipated and homophobic as the start.

At least Adrien had a love interest...which was only introduced last season...and who barely got any screen time... But hey! Marinette was a nice enough girl!

...

“So…” Adrien starts awkwardly, wanting to finally address the elephant in the room. “About Nathaniel…”

“What about him?” Felix asks, raising a delicate brow, completely disinterested.

“You…You sad he’s gone, or…?”

Felix just gives a shrug. “Yeah. Shit sucks, I guess.”

“Oh.”

“We should go somewhere else. Keep moving,” his brother declares, finally finishing chugging his coffee and smashing the empty container under his steel-toed shoes, in a very manly fashion.

Well, Adrien should have expected this. His older brother always ran away from his feelings. And problems. And everything in life that was vaguely troubling, like the emotionally constipated and paranoid bastard he was.

At the very least, these habits have kept them alive so far. There’s that silver lining.

...

“Y’know, I didn’t realize the Insane Clown Posse was still touring,” Adrien jokes, sweating nervously at the group of juggalos surrounding the pair of brothers.

“Very funny,” one of the juggalos rasps, baring his teeth, and. Alright. Those were vampire fangs.

“Really…?” Felix asks long sufferingly, rolling his eyes. “Is this the best the writers could come up with? Juggalo vampires?”

“With knives!” one of said juggalo vampires says cheerily, raising a knife, his face split half-white half-black down the middle. Not very clown-like, but Adrien was willing to give him A for effort and his nice smile that made his emerald eyes glitter charmingly.

Felix, like the complete weeb he is, readies his shuriken and starting chucking them like he’s a Naruto character. Adrien ducks and rolls, slashing at the enemies’ heels with his claw-gloves and readying his baton.

“Ah, hello again, Kagami,” Felix says silkily, in his Protagonist Fighting Voice.

“How could you tell it was me?” asks the masked woman.

“You aren’t dressed as a juggalo, for one. Two, this show has such a minimal amount of female characters, I could have thrown any name of a woman out there and had a good one in ten chance of getting it correct.”

“Make that a thirty-seventy chance, since most of the women die in the show!” Adrien calls back, because he is all for equality and getting statistics correct.

“Yes, of course. My mistake,” Felix states dryly.

“I hate this fucking show,” Kagami sighs, tired and exasperated.

“You’re not the only one.” And then Felix promptly kills Kagami anti-climatically. “I hope you enjoyed your one scene with dialogue.”

“Felix, why didn’t you kill her with your shuriken? You know your best weapon is your shuriken!” Adrien scolds. “I know we’re in the season finale and things should be wrapping up, but—”

And then the younger blond watches before his very eyes as his brother is impaled.

“NOOOOOOO!” Adrien shrieks, going on a vengeance-fueled rampage to kill the rest of the juggalo knife vampires. He then runs over to his impaled brother, who was impaled by huge…rusty nails? He thinks? Listen, he was too fucking tired to question it. “Felix! Felix, talk to me!”

“I’m sorry, little brother,” Felix rasps, coughing out blood, the red liquid splattering down his chin. “I was…careless.”

“You’re gonna be okay, Lix,” Adrien sniffles, clutching his brother’s hand in his. “You’ve survived worse! Like, you’ve literally fist fought God! You’ve survived fifteen seasons of this shit, you can—”

“I can’t come back from this.”

“But why?!” Adrien demands, tears budding in his green eyes.

“Because…I want you to live…”

“I can bring you back! I can, I swear—”

“You really think the writers will do that, when they want to end this flaming trash heap?” Felix chuckles, with a slight smile, lips coated red.

“But you survived so much! How will the audience even believe you died from murderous vampire juggalos?!”

“They won’t…This is…the stupidest fucking thing the showrunners could have done,” his older brother rasps with a sassy and bitchy roll of his eyes. “Fucking morons…Total brain rot…I knifed God, and this is the thanks I get…”

“You’ve died plenty of times before, I can just bring you back, Felix, it’s gonna be—”

“No. Let me die in peace, you dumb, whiny little bitch,” the other blonde growls. “I’ve been stuck in this hellhole of a show for fifteen fucking years. Let me die already. I don’t care about the situation being braindead and unrealistic. I don’t care about the mechanics. We’ll just say that resurrecting me when you’re alone it too dangerous because it takes a toll on you that’s too great to pay. Before, Nathaniel could resurrect one or both of his because of his holy powers. Without him, doing this is pretty much impossible.”

“I can’t fucking believe that in your death scene, you’re actually giving an in-universe explanation that’s more realistic than what the writers of the show can come up with,” Adrien weeps while laughing.

“It’s a skill,” Felix deadpans, his grey eyes going soft as he brings a bloody hand up to gently touch Adrien’s cheek. “Listen…Go live your life…Live a long and full one…Marry and have children and grow old…All the stereotypical mushy shit, alright? You go and do that.”

“But you’re my brother. You’ve protected me from so much, never left my side,” the younger one whimpers, green eyes red-rimmed and face pulled into a visage of pure grief. “Please…”

“Stop dragging this out. You’re giving the incest shippers more to work with,” the older one states, before his eyes go glassy and he stops breathing.

Adrien wails, burying his face in the space of the other’s chest that wasn’t impaled, sobbing his heart out and clutching his dead protector.

...

Adrien burns Felix’s body. It’s what his older brother would have wanted. No physical remains, no possibility for his body to be taken by any of the monsters lurking in the world.

Adrien burns his brother’s body, and keeps moving.

...

Adrien is in a shoddy motel the next day. He only has one slice of toast for breakfast, to show how sad he is of his brother’s untimely demise.

...

Adrien is wearing glasses and his hair is a shoddy grey comb-over, to show that time has passed. He looks like a very tired university professor on tenure that no one is quite sure what subject he even teaches.

He’s in front of a house, in the lawn. “Lix! C’mere, Felix!”

A little boy with sandy hair and a bright smile runs at him, and Adrien hugs his son. His wife stands back, watching the scene.

Does he end up marrying Marinette? Another woman? Who knows. Fuck the fans for wanting to know that answer, amirite?

Adrien goes through the motions, and hopes the finale will end soon.

...

Trees. As far as the eyes can see. Trees, and a mountain range in the distance, dirt road under his feet.

“My love…” Felix whispers, tears budding in his steel-grey eyes, which have softened with pure love and passion. “I…I thought I’d never see you again…”

He stumbles forwards, stopping in front of the beauty in front of him. He carefully reaches a hand out, before gently placing his fingertips against the silk-smooth surface.

“Plagg, you little bastard, I didn’t even know cars could go to Heaven…” Felix breathes out a laugh, one of elation, tears spilling out of his eyes. He sniffles and wipes them away.

“Well, this is Heaven. Anything you could ever want would be here,” a voice says kindly.

Felix blinks, whirling around to stare at the man sitting in a rocking chair in front of a saloon he hadn’t noticed was there before. Next to the familiar man was an equally familiar ice cream cart.

“Andre…?” the blonde asks, confused. “I—What the fuck are you doing here? You’re a minor character.”

“Yeah, but I’m a minor character that was confirmed to have gone to Heaven,” the portly man says, nodding back at the monster hunter. “The writers couldn’t really think of anyone else to throw in here to serve as your guide, so here I am.”

“Well. Alright then,” Felix blinks back.

“C’mon, son. Lemme share with you some teen-rated friendly ice cream.”

“Suspiciously worded and a suspicious request, but I’ll play along,” the blonde shrugs carelessly, striding forwards.

The portly man hums, digging through his ice cream cart, creating the perfect cone in front of Felix’s eyes.

“Red velvet for his hair, cheesecake for his wings, and blue sherbet for his eyes and soul,” the ice cream man says kindly, handing the cone over to Felix, who takes it with numb fingers.

“Thank you,” he tells the man stiffly, carefully licking at the cone.

“This place has everything you could ever want…Except…” Andre’s face turns sympathetic and soft with sadness. “Well, he’ll be here, eventually. Time works different here than it does where Nathaniel is at. But he’s an angel. He’ll find his way back here.”

“…Sure,” Felix says, lips twisting into an awkward half-smile. This is Heaven. He can’t go calling an angel a homophobic slur. He’ll end up switching places with Nathaniel, or something.

Besides, Andre was kind enough to make him an ice cream cone. And it was a rather nice ice cream. So Felix enjoys the cone, for about five minutes.

“Can I go back to Plagg, now? My baby needs me,” Felix asks five minutes later in almost a whine, sick and tired of the ice cream flavors that reminded him too much of Nathaniel.

The portly man chuckles. “Go on, then, Felix. Go on.”

The blonde grins toothily and runs back to the Impala. “Ohhhh, baby, how I’m glad to see you…!” he coos, opening the door and sliding in. He breathes in familiar scent of his reliable, manly, super sexy heterosexual car. “Now, let’s crank it!”

Felix’s smile fills his entire mouth as he chucks his unfinished cone out the window, turns the ignition on, and revs the engine.

Plagg drives smoothly, like a cat purring. Felix turns on the radio, Carry On My Wayward Son playing as he drives through Heaven. Maybe he can find a place he can look over Adrien from. That would be nice. He wants to see if his little brother actually had kids or not. And see how ugly he’s gotten from old age.

...

Adrien’s hair has now turned white, to show how even more time has passed.

Carry On My Wayward Son, but it’s a cover from Evanescence, plays in the Impala as Felix parks the car and watches his little brother be an old man.

...

Nathaniel sighs and taps his fingernails against the desk he was sitting at, in Super Mega Hell’s bureaucratic offices.

“What the fuck is taking them so long to revive me again…?” the gay angel mutters, pouting. “They usually don’t take this long! Are they not doing it because Nathaniel feels awkward about everything…? Did one of them die, so they don’t have enough energy to complete the ritual…?”

The redheaded angel sighs, feeling guilty. “Poor Adrien…He always was a nice lad. I hope he enjoys Heaven, at least. I went and fixed it up quite well. Shame he has to use it so quickly… Felix must be grieving so terribly…”

“You look sad, Nath. You want me to suck you off?” asks his underling softly—a fellow named Marc who died as a juggalo knife-wielding vampire. Despite Marc’s strange make-up, he had a kind smile and pretty green eyes, and Nathaniel was fond of the lad.

“You don’t have to!” Nathaniel says quickly, face going warm, suddenly incredibly shy. “You’re not obligated to do anything you wouldn’t like to do—”

“But I want to,” Marc says warmly, already sliding onto his knees and unbuckling Nathaniel’s belt. “I’ll get your mind off your little boyfriend, alright?”

Nathaniel is about to protest about Felix being his boyfriend—after all, he’d just confessed before being dragged into Super Mega Hell, so he hasn’t had the time to have a proper conversation with Felix over them even dating—but then Marc fulfills his offer. Nathaniel’s mind goes hazy with pleasure, complicated thoughts about the Agreste brothers flying straight out the window.

...

Adrien Agreste lies on his deathbed, dying from old age. The shot transitions from him lying down with closed eyes, to opening them, his face unwrinkled and youthful once more.

All around him are trees, with a mountain range in the distance, a dirt road under his feet. He turns, and startles, seeing someone he’d lost so long ago.

“F-Felix…?” he asks waveringly, tears in his eyes and throat instantly clogging.

His older brother is as youthful and healthy as the last day before his death. He’s got his arms crossed, leaning his hip against the sleek, black Impala, a wide and toothy smirk on his face.

“Took you long enough,” Felix teases, jerking his head and opening his arms. “C’mere—”

Adrien runs and tackles his brother in his hug, Felix yelping as the two land on the ground.

“Careful here,” Felix grouses, but he’s smiling as he speaks. “You’ll give the incest shippers more fodder.”

“Fuck the crazy shippers, I missed you, you fucking asshole.”

“What did I just say?” Felix sighs, fondly exasperated. He wriggles out of Adrien’s hold, getting up, before offering his hand. Adrien quickly takes it, allowing his brother to pull him up and clap his hand on Adrien’s shoulder. “Welcome back.”

“It’s good to be back,” Adrien smiles with all his teeth, before he looks next to him at the Impala. “Uh…Not to be a Debbie downer, but where’s Nathaniel? And why’s Plagg here? Can a car even go to Heaven…?”

“No clue,” Felix chirps, before he rubs the top of the Impala’s hood like a loving pet own would their cat. “But I’m glad he’s here.”

Adrien deadpans back at him, “You’re grateful your car’s with you, but not the man that went to Super Mega Hell for you?”

“Details, details,” Felix waves his hand dismissively. “Andre told me about Nathaniel—”

“Andre the ice cream man? How’d a minor character like him show up at the finale?”

“You’re asking a lot from the writers of this shitshow,” Felix deadpans back at him. “Anyways, he said Nathaniel would take some time to come back up to Heaven.”

“Dude, that’s pretty homophobic.”

The other shrugs. “All the gays are in Hell anyways. He’s probably having the time of his life down there. He’s aesthetically attractive, he’s probably gotten a few booty calls.”

“You’re the straightest and most ridiculously homophobic man I know, and I am so sorry he’s in love with someone like you,” Adrien says with disgust, wrinkling his nose. “How a selfless angel is in Hell and a homophobic, prickly bastard like you is in Heaven, I’ll never understand.”

“I reap the benefit of the rewards from the terrible writing,” Felix smirks like the devil, throwing up the horns.

Adrien looks into the camera like he’s in The Office. Felix looks into the camera too, his face now startlingly blank, but somehow expressing the full weight of his homophobia. Carry On My Wayward Son plays one final time.

The end.

#supernatural spoilers #parody #nathaniel kurtzberg #adrien agreste #felix de graham vanily #marc anciel #andre the ice cream man #miraculous ladybug #fic #supernatural series finale #mexicat writes

7 notes · View notes

god-shops-at-thot-topic · 4 years

Text

Okay so I had a real wack idea and that is: Jekyll and Hyde but in Danny Phantom AU. Basically it would be like an episode where Dr. Henry Jekyll becomes a new teacher at Casper High and right after he arrives a new ghostly menace (Hyde) shows up to terrorize Amity Park. I’ll put more info under this if you’re interested in my ramblings.

Okay so basically, when Henry Jekyll was in college he got in an accident that involved a homemade/really shitty ghost portal that he and (Hastie? Robert? Maybe something else?) Lanyon built. Lanyon and him had a fight over it and after Lanyon leaves the room to calm down Jekyll says “fuck it yolo” and decides to start up the machine himself. It blows up in his face giving him a scar on his right cheek and turns him into a half ghost. His halfa form appears younger than Henry and seems to have a bit of a mind of its own (due to the shoddy construction of the ghost portal). He calls himself Hyde because his first instinct was “HIDE” when security, medical personnel, and other assorted people on campus run to the wrecked lab. The name Edward comes later mostly as a personal “Ooo I like that name” kinda thing (if anyone has a better idea for this please share because im a dummy and can’t think of anything). Jekyll comes back and since he has the scar on his face Lanyon thinks he caused the explosion on purpose and whoop there goes their friendship. They end up both getting the blame but it’s less of a “you tried to blow up the school” thing and more of a “you really fucked up on your experiment and must have really miscalculated” thing. The school has their families pay for most of the damages (which is a-okay because they both come from wealthy families) and it just ends up becoming sort of an on campus joke.

Years go by and Hyde ends up getting more and more of his own personality. At first he was almost completely influenced by Jekyll but now it’s become more like Hyde is a separate ghost possessing Jekyll. This becomes a problem when, as Jekyll is working in his lab, Hyde decides he’s bored and takes over. Jekyll ends up developing a chemical to control the transformations (HJ7) and put him back in charge of the situation. It works for a while but then Henry starts seeming black out for times, and what he hears about his actions as he’s blacked out makes him realize that Hyde is taking control/possessing his human form (basically green eyed Jekyll type scenario). This freaks Henry out, so he decides he’s going to find professional help. Low and behold, Amity Park, the town where some of the most famous ghost hunters live in, has a job opening for a new chemistry teacher at the local high school. Jekyll easily gets the job and starts working immediately.

Henry soon becomes the teacher everyone either totally loves or totally hates. He’s very passionate about chemistry but knows a lot about other scientific fields and will talk to students about their favorite studies. Because of his passion for chemistry though, he grades very harshly and does not tolerate disruptions such as talking during lectures and arriving tardy (without a good excuse). This is what causes the great divide on the students opinions of him. Everyone stands on one side or the other. Everyone except Danny Fenton. Danny is the child of scientists, the local ghost hunters Jack and Maddie Fenton, and is very passionate about astronomy and wants to work for NASA when he grows up. The problem is he’s always either missing, tardy to, or sleeping in class. He also doesn’t really seem to grasp the material. Dr. Jekyll is torn because he can tell that Danny loves science and he has had really great conversations with him about astronomy but he’s just upset at how Danny is in his class. He ends up deciding that he will take the boy under his wing and tutor him to help him pass. This will also get him closer to Danny’s parents who he thinks can help him with his Hyde problem.

Danny goes after school for tutoring (surprisingly there were no rogue ghosts attacking today) and waits for Dr. Jekyll to show up. And waits. And waits. Then his ghost sense goes off and he just can’t wait anymore. Danny grabs his bag and runs into down the hall to the boys room where, with a quick “I’m going ghost!” he’s off to fight the ghostly menace of the day. When he spots the spirit, he sees this is one that he’s never fought before. He’s tall and quite lean with bluish skin, venomous green eyes, green hair pulled into a flaming ponytail, and a nasty scar across the right side of his face. The ghost takes notice that Danny’s there and a fight ensues. And then it ends when Danny gets yeeted through a wall and the ghost disappears. At least Danny was able to pick up that the new ghost’s name is Edward Hyde during the fight. He goes home to work on his homework go to sleep. He just crashes right into bed and sleeps till the next day.

When he gets to school, Dr. Jekyll comes up to him and apologizes that he couldn’t make it to the tutoring session and that an emergency had come up that he had to attend to. Danny was like no biggie and continued on with the day. He talked with Sam and Tucker about this new ghost. They go over where he may have come from, if he’s working for Vlad, and all the other possibilities including that it could be that Dr. Jekyll may be a halfa like Danny and Vlad, but that got brushed off as wrong (”That ghost did not seem like the kind of guy who’d have a PHD. He’s a MR. Hyde at best, not a Dr. like Jekyll”). The school day ends and Danny’s off to learn the ways of chemistry. This time Dr. Jekyll is there and the lesson goes according to plan. At least right up until Danny’s lesson is about over. When the topic of talking to Danny’s parents about his tutoring (and the possibility of them helping out with Jekyll’s halfa problem) is brought up, all of a sudden a change comes over the good doctor. He starts saying nasty things and acting like real bitch. That’s when Danny notices that Dr. Jekyll’s eyes are a vibrant shade of green. Seeing this as a sign that Jekyll has been possessed (hopefully by that Edward Hyde ghost from yesterday, Danny wants a round two with him) Danny goes ghost (because it’s not like Dr. Jekyll will remember anyway he’s possessed.

This freaks the shit out of Hyde because a. he thought he was the only halfa there was b. holy shit this little scrawny kid is that ghost that nearly kicked his ass yesterday c. he thinks he’s been found out and d. holy shit this little scrawny kid is that ghost that nearly kicked his ass yesterday. Since he’s so freaked out, he slips a little and Jekyll comes to for just long enough to be punched in the face by the kid he thought would be his favorite student. This “little” punch shakes up Jekyll but acts as a snap back to reality for Hyde who makes them go ghost. When Danny sees the rings go around Dr. Jekyll turning him into Edward Hyde, he realizes he fucked up. A fight ensues which ends with an agreement between the two (three???). Basically Danny will leave them alone and not tell his parents as long as a. Hyde doesn’t forcibly take over Jekyll and when he’s out he doesn’t cause problems and b. Jekyll doesn’t try to destroy Hyde.

(when Danny tells Sam and Tucker about all this Tucker yells “HAH! I told you!”)

I think Hyde still gets up to mischief but he’s not a real villain just more of a pest. The real villain is Jekyll who goes to Vlad Masters for a side job (cause teaching don’t pay nearly enough as it should) where he ends up helping to develop ghost weapons. I’d actually see him being able to get close enough to Vlad that he learns a lot of his little secrets, just not the one about Vlad being a halfa. (I think Jekyll might be brought in to help with cloning Danny.)

And that’s pretty much all I got. I might make a fic if anyone wants it but there’s no real guarantee on the quality since I haven’t taken a creative writing class in over 4 years.

#jekyll and hyde #danny phantom #au #halfa jekyll au #henry jekyll #edward hyde #my art #i sorta drew all this really quickly because the only other drawings i have of it are two years old #and also i wanted to post something for strange case day #i probably should have put a danno in here or something but whatever

142 notes · View notes

holycafe · 5 years

Photo

Coldflash Week Fall 2019: Len’s Oculus Powers. AKA the Bad Wolf AU

Yet another fic idea that I’ve been meaning to write for years. If you feel inspired then, by all means, feel free to write it out! Just please give me credit for the idea (or, at the very least, credit Dr Who since this is based on Rose Tyler as Bad Wolf). PS, please forgive me my shoddy editing skills. I was in a bit of a rush.

(I have a lot of edits and fics for this ship as well as destiel, sterek, etc. My masterposts can be found here. If you’re on a desktop site then you can just jump on over to my page to view the rest of my coldflash edits.)

“What can we do?” Mick asked, and Rip shook his head.

“Nothing. The human body isn’t designed to absorb all the information of the timestream.”

“So, that’s it, then?” Sara asked, indignant. “Leonard’s going to just die again? We’ve only just got him back!”

“What about a speedster?” Barry asked, and all eyes turned to him. “I have the speed force running through me, how much different could this be?” He asked. “Is there any way for me to, I don’t know, absorb it from him?”

“It’s… possible,” Rip said after a momentary pause. “Though, speedster or not, you are still human. It may not be any safer for you than it is for Mr Snart.”

“It’s not worth it, Bear,” Joe was saying instantly. But Barry shook his head; he had to try.

So, that was how, ten minutes later, Barry found himself standing in front of Leonard Snart. Leonard’s eyes were glowing an unearthly blue as they tracked Barry’s movement. He was silent and emotionless. Though, not the put-upon mask that he often wore to keep people at bay. His face was just… blank. Barry wondered, not for the first time, if Snart was even in there or not.

“It’s okay, Leonard,” Barry said softly, stepping up to Snart until they were only a mere foot apart. He cast a look back over his shoulder at his friends, feeling nervous about what he had to do.

When he looked back to Snart, the older man was still just standing there silently. And, Barry didn’t know whether that made things easier or more difficult. Because, according to Rip, there was only one sure-fire way for Barry to absorb the remnants of the timestream which clung on in Snart’s body, and that was through open connect. Specifically, a kiss.

“I’m going to make it all okay. Just… don’t punch me, alright?” He laughed humourlessly. Then, before he could overthink this, Barry took that last step and crashed their lips together. For a moment, nothing happened. And then everything happened.

Barry saw it all. Every moment that ever was, every moment that ever would be, everything that could be, and everything that had never come to pass. He saw it all. It was like running through the speed force, except it was a million times bigger and in a fraction of the time. He saw hatred, war, peace, love. So much love.

He saw Iris, Felicity, Caitlin, Cisco, Joe, Leonard… no, Len. He preferred Len. Barry could see it now, everything that Len had been through, everything that had ever happened which had made Len who he was. The good and the bad. And there was a lot of bad. So much that Barry wanted to hold him tight and never let him go again.

And, oddly enough, Barry saw this moment. It was like an out-of-body experience, watching himself kiss Leonard Snart in the middle of the lab and with all of his friends watching. It started innocent enough, a quick peck, but then Len lifted his hands to cup Barry’s jaw, and it deepened. Barry could feel Len’s rough hands against the skin of his cheek, and he watched the scene play out as though he was watching it on TV rather than being an active participant. He felt his tongue slip inside Len’s mouth, though he didn’t remember making the conscious thought to do so.

A second passed, and then Sara let out a rowdy hoot behind them, and Mick began laughing so hard that he nearly fell to the floor, Joe started face palming and shaking his head, while pretty much everyone else just uncomfortably averted their gaze. Barry realised he probably should have been embarrassed, but he was so caught up in everything – in Len, in them, in memories and futures, in life itself – that he just didn’t feel it.

But soon it became overpowering.

Barry’s head began to buzz painfully, his eyes hurt as though he was straining to see everything, his mouth began to feel numb. He stumbled back from the kiss, and the second that the connection between himself and Len broke, Len’s body slumped, and he fell to the floor. Barry tried to catch him, but his vision was swimming now, and his limbs felt heavy. He heard someone shout his name behind him. He heard it echo through his head as it happened again and again and again in countless timelines.

And then everything went black.

When Barry came to again, a few days had passed. He was lying in a make-shift hospital bed in one of the smaller labs at STAR, and both Cisco and Caitlin were hovering around him expectantly and asking him relentless questions. At first, Barry didn’t really remember what had happened. But soon, it all came flooding back to him. Well, not all of it. He struggled to remember most of what he’d seen while connected to the timestream, which had apparently faded from his body due to his accelerated healing factor. But, the memory of Len’s tongue dancing against his own was all too real.

“Where’s, erm…” Len. Just thinking his name made Barry’s heart beat a little faster and he was forever glad that Cait had already unhooked him from the heart rate monitor.

“Your boyfriend’s over there,” Cisco joked, and Barry blushed. He was about to stutter out some sort of excuse when he glanced over to where Cisco had been pointing and found Len lying in a hospital bed identical to Barry’s, connected to an IV drip and various machines.

The words died on Barry’s tongue as he abruptly stood up and flashed over to Len’s side without really thinking about it. His reaction must have been a surprise to Cisco because the other man’s smile was already dropping from his lips.

“Is he okay?” Barry asked, and Caitlin nodded.

“He’s not deteriorating anymore. He’s actually been healing. On a cellular level, he’s fine,” she said.

“But?” Barry asked, seeing the hesitation on her face.

“But… we don’t know how long he’s going to be out for. Or, if he ever will wake up.”

Barry shook his head. He didn’t go through all of that just for Len to get stuck in a coma for the rest of his life. Barry couldn’t accept that. He wouldn’t.

Barry didn’t know whether it would work, but he’d done it once before with Jesse. He reached forward, his fingers crackling with electricity, and he took Len’s hand in his own. The second their skin made contact, Len was gasping and bolting upright in his bed. Wordlessly, Len looked at Barry, his blue eyes lacking the unnatural glow they’d had before, as Caitlin scrambled forward to check him over.

Barry tried to take his hand back and give his friend more room to work, but Len grabbed him tighter and refused to let go. Barry let out a shaky laugh and smiled as he took in the unfiltered emotions covering Len’s face. He looked as though he was in absolute awe of Barry, and it made Barry blush.

“Well, if it isn’t my Scarlet Speedster,” Len said, his voice sounded dry from disuse, but it made Barry’s heart flutter all the same. “You owe me a real kiss.”

“Please don’t,” Cisco muttered. “I’ve seen enough of that particular show for one week.”

“Then look away,” Len drawled, tugging sharply on Barry’s hand until he stumbled forwards and into Len’s arms. Barry was smiling as their lips met. He couldn’t help it. It was a messy kiss, and there was a little bit too much teeth involved, but neither Len nor Barry could care about that.

As far as Barry was concerned, it was perfect because it was with Len.

#cffall19 #coldflash #len x barry #lenarry #Leonard Snart #Barry Allen #dc #my aus #pieprincesswritescoldflash #pieprincesswritesdc #pieprincesswritesfics

116 notes · View notes

atlantic-riona · 5 years

Note

GIA CHILDE I AM HERE TO PROMPT LIKE A CRAZY CHICKEN okay so 4, 24 92, 97, 101, 110, and whatever you want honestly it doesn’t even have to be these pick and choose I AM HERE TO ENABLE YOUR WRITING

EXCELLENT I HOPE THESE SMALL OFFERINGS WILL MAKE YOU HAPPY

(I played fast and loose with the dialogue prompts, so like…in some of these the line doesn’t really get said! Also, I had to replace 97, because that one got a little bit spoiler-y, so instead I went with 13 and 59 (which is a slightly edited snippet I’ve written already but haven’t figured out where it goes yet). And not all of them are complete–most of them are just snippets that will probably appear in future chapters.)

4.“Who gave you that black eye?”

“Who gave you that black eye?” Gwydion demanded.

Alasdair gingerly fingered the area around said eye. “Someone wholooks and feels a lot worse than I do right now, hopefully.” Atleast, he’d be surprised if Val wasn’t curled up into a ball andmoaning to his friends like the coward that he was after the drubbingAly had given him. He’d spent quite a long time waiting to give Valhis comeuppance, and he’d be very disappointed if said comeuppancehadn’t been successful.

“Sit down. Now,” Gwydion said, nearly hissing the commandwhen Alasdair loitered by the door for a half-second too long.

He rolled his eyes, made his way across the tiny room, and floppedbackwards onto the bed. It creaked alarmingly under him. He snorted.“Shoddy workmanship.” Then again, not much was made for someoneof his height and build. But in his opinion, well-made furnitureought to hold up under any sort of person.

“Then build us a new one.”

He considered this in all seriousness, then shook his head indismissal. “You won’t be in Eblana Ladrem long enough for it tobe any use. Plus, I don’t think I could do it in time, what withschool and everything.”

“Oh, the great Aly finally admits that there’s something he can’tdo? Today is an interesting day.”

Kneeling down next to him on the bed, Gwydion leaned over to examinehis eye. In his hands was a small vial of…something.

Alasdair treated it to a suspicious glare. “What’s that?”

“Poison,” Gwydion replied in an absentminded way, reaching out togently trace the bruise. He winced. Even the light touch stung a bit.“And after I give it to you, you’re going to tell me exactly whatyou’ve been up to. Or else.”

“Or else what?”

Gwydion reached out and tweaked his nose, which he knew Alyhated, and grinned. “Or else I get Bran and you can tell himall about the adventures you’ve been having. Pick your poison.”He glanced at the vial. “It’s not actually poison, by the way;it’s an ointment—”

“I know.”

“I was only joking about—”

“I realized.”

“Touchy, touchy. Well?”

Alasdair sighed. “Is there a third option?”

“No.”

“Pity.”

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

24.“We’re playing checkers. If you don’t like it,leave.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Bran watched as his littlest brothersidled closer, nibbling at his lip. He returned his gaze to the boardbefore Conor could notice the attention. This process—which hadbeen going on for the last twenty minutes—repeated for another fivebefore he heard a voice pipe into his ear. “What’s that?”Conor’s tone was curious, but trying not to sound like it was.

“Your move,” Bran said to Art. To Conor: “It’s soldiers.”

Conor shuffled closer. “What’s that?”

This was the tricky part. If he showed too much interest, Conor wouldbolt. If he didn’t show enough, Conor would get annoyed and leaveanyway.

So he kept his eyes trained on his pieces as he answered, “It’s aValaviri game. Everybody plays it on the continent for fun. I wasjust teaching Art how to play.”

Across from them, Art sat back, narrowing his eyes at the board. Forsomeone who had only learned the basics of the game an hour ago, hewas proving to be a challenging opponent. Bran had barely managed tocorner one of his brother’s pieces, and even now he wasn’t toosure that Art wouldn’t find some way to escape.

When Conor didn’t say anything, Bran hesitated. But he hadbeen showing some interest, and he was still here…“Do youwant to know how to play?”

A shrug. “Okay.”

Well, it was something.

While they waited for Art to make his move, Bran explained the way itworked. Each side had a certain number of soldiers—usuallydistinguished by color traditionally, although right now they wereusing pebbles and shells—and the goal was to capture the board, orthe “city,” by trapping the opposing side’s soldiers with one’sown soldiers. Conor didn’t say anything as Bran demonstrated how tomove the pieces around, but he did lean in as Art finally decided tomove one of his pieces on the outer sides of the board, rather thansave the soldier that had been captured. Which left another piece ofhis wide open…

Bran plucked the captured soldier off the board, and was justreaching out to trap Art’s other piece when Conor tapped his hand.“Not that one.”

“Why not?”

Conor shifted an inch or two closer and pointed at another spot onthe board. “Move here instead.”

“Why?”

“Because…” He paused, then jerked his head at Bran andretreated a little ways. Bemused—but also a little pleased—Brangot up and followed him over to the other side of the room. When hebent down, Conor whispered, “Because he’s trying to trap you. Ifyou capture that piece, he’ll be able to get a bunch of yours inthe next ten moves. If you go where I told you to go, you can traphim instead.”

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

92.“You’re so clingy, I love it.”

The streets were dark and wet. Only the moon shone down upon theslippery cobblestones. Cait hopped up onto the rail of the bridge andstrolled along it as if it were a safe, dry walkway instead of arotting, slick piece of wood.

Lucan resisted the impulse for about a minute before he caved andasked, “Could you not do that? You’re putting horrible visions ofyou falling and dying in my head.”

She twirled, shooting him a smug look over one shoulder. “Jealousof my talent?”

He closed his eyes and waited until the dizziness attacking his headstopped. “Please, Cait, we’re fifty feet up.”

“Only twenty-five,” she corrected, and skidded a little. Hesurged forward.

In apparent bewilderment, Cait examined the hand wrapped around herankle. The cool night air blew the loose strands of her hair backfrom her face as she looked from his hand to his face. Lucan triedtelling his fingers to let go, now that there was no danger, but theyseemed to have other ideas that overrode those mental commands;namely, that letting go would lead to certain death some thirty feetbelow for someone he considered a friend. Someone who could perhapsbe—a good friend. Yes, that was it. A good friend.

Suddenly she laughed: a short, delighted laugh that brought ananswering smile to his face. In one fluid motion she shook his handoff and jumped down. She didn’t land with catlike grace—her bootsmade an echoing thump when she hit the ground, and when shestraightened and started off down the bridge again, her stride couldbe charitably characterized as more of a spirited march than a smoothstroll—but it was graceful, nonetheless, in a way that was purelyCait.

“Wait up,” he called after her.

Already at the end of the bridge, she stopped and turned to wait forhim. “You’re awfully clingy tonight,” she observed.

“Sorry.” Lucan fell into step next to her as they made their waydown yet another unfamiliar street, and found himself wishing that hecould stay to learn its name. To walk these streets with her untilthey became as familiar as the back of his hand. To not know that, assoon as he found his quarry, he would leave and never return. Hestole a glance at her, so as to capture this moment deliberately inhis mind.

Cait’s head was down, and a small smile played about her mouth. Shelaughed again when she caught him looking at her, but more softlythis time. Her eyes crinkled just before she laughed, he noticed. “Idon’t mind,” she admitted. “I like spending time with you.”

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

101.“Don’t be an asshole. Asshole.”

Marian shoved him. “Hey! What was that for?” he protested.

“For being an absolute menace to the population at large!”

“Marian. Are you calling me a menace for not being able todistinguish between different shades of blue?” Aly’s tone wasincredulous bordering on ‘politely concerned for her sanity’.

“Yes! You shouldn’t do things like that in public!” Shesniffled, only halfway caring how illogical she sounded. As long ashe didn’t realize the true cause of her almost-tears, it didn’tmatter. And for a minute, she thought her ploy would work.

“Well, excuse me for never having set foot in such a ‘highquality establishment’ before, where such lowly beings as myselfget looked down upon for not knowing the difference between blue and,uh, turquoise blue or azure—” He paused. “Thisisn’t about the colors, is it.”

“Of course it is! What else would it be about?”

“Oh, I don’t know, my brother?”

She turned her nose up. “I’m certain I haven’t the faintestidea what you’re talking about.”

Alasdair gave her a long, long stare. “You’re not a very goodliar, you know. I can always tell when you’re bluffing.”

Summoning all the tattered scraps of her composure, she drew themaround herself before facing him. “Who’s bluffing?”

He puffed out his cheeks. “According to you, my skills at dealingwith emotions could use work, so please don’t make me strain themwhile I drag the answer out of you.”

His teasing tone irked her. She wasn’t in the mood right now.“Don’t be an asshole. Asshole.”

He gasped. “Mar! Such language! What would Bran think?” Heelbowed her. “Do you write about me in your diary?”

The subject change had given her such whiplash that it took her amoment to process the question.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

110.“Quit stalling. Where’s your father?”

“Quit stalling. Where’s your father?”

Oh, this was wretched. This was absolutely wretched. Marian lookedwildly to her right, where Bran had flattened himself against thewall, staring at her with wide eyes. He shook his head and mouthed,Not yet. Beyond him, Alasdair hunched over her father’sdesk, meticulously replacing papers as fast as he dared. If he wenttoo swiftly, the rustling of the papers would draw attention.

“Marcus,” the prince reproved in a long-suffering tone, beforeturning back to her with an apologetic expression. “Sorry abouthim. Look, we really need to speak to your father, so if we couldjust…”

Without thinking, she moved to block his path to the door of thestudy. “He’s not in right now.” She was amazed at how easilythe lie came out. Behind her back, she made hasty (and subtle)flapping motions indicating the need to speed things up. “ShallI—that is, I’ll tell him you were looking for him when he getsback,” she said, remembering Bran’s story about misdirection.Phrase what you want them to do as a statement, not as a question,and most people won’t push further. And don’t give them time todwell. “In the meantime, would you like something to drink? Inthe triclinium, perhaps?”

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

(I replaced 97.“I don’t need a hero, I need a husband” with 13. “Looks like we’re gonna be stuckhere for a while” and 59. “How do I even put up with you?”)

13. “Looks like we’re gonna be stuck here for a while.”

“Looks like we’re going to be stuck here for a while,” Artsaid, kicking at the loose dirt. A pebbled rolled off to the side,into the darkness, where it made a surprisingly loud clunk. Somethingshifted above them. They froze.

When it seemed likely that the ceiling wasn’t going to collapse onthem yet, Alasdair reached out—slowly—to grip Art’s shoulder.“Maybe move a bit more carefully, okay?”

His mouth had gone dry. He touched the papers inside his bag, to besure they were still safe, and then nodded. Then he remembered thatit was too dark for Aly to really see the nod, so he said out loud,“Right. Got it.”

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

59. “How do I even put up with you?”

“Who’s a good boy?” Alasdaircrooned. “That’s right, you! You are!” He held the puppy up tohis face with childlike glee.

“He is not a good boy,” she saidfrom her seat by the window. “He is the least good boy I know.”

Alasdair gasped and clutched thepuppy to his chest. “You take that back.”

“I will not,” Marian saiddefiantly. “The little monster chewed up all of my sewing today. Doyou know how expensive silk is?”

“He is not a monster!” Thepuppy’s ears were covered as Alasdair glared at her over its head.“You take that back right now. Apologize to Puppy.”

She couldn’t help it; she threwback her head and laughed. “I can’t take you seriously when youcall it ‘Puppy,’ Alasdair. Give it a real name, won’t you?”

“Puppy,” he said with emphasis,“is not an it. Puppy is a he. And he’s not a monster, soapologize.”

“I refuse,” she said, stickingher nose in the air.

Boots thumped against the floor asAlasdair jumped to his feet. “Puppy and I,” he announced withgreat dignity, “are leaving.”

He was halfway out the window beforeMarian thought he might actually be serious. She rushed over as hevanished outside. “Alasdair?” The night wind, cool and gentle,ruffled her hair. Below, there was only blackness. “Alasdair?”She bit her lip. “I take it back; Puppy’s not a monster.”

“Ha,” said a supremely satisfiedvoice above her. Marian shrieked and stumbled backwards as Alasdair’shead popped into view, his green eyes shining like a cat’s. “Iknew that would work.”She clapped a hand to her chest,breathing hard. In front of her, Puppy panted cheerfully, his tinytail beating a happy rhythm against Alasdair’s chest where he wasbeing cradled ever so tenderly. In deference to Puppy’s sensitiveears, Marian decided against swearing and instead fixed her glareupon an unfazed, smirking Alasdair. “You are the most aggravating—”

“I know,” Aly said sweetly. Heclambered back into the room, obviously pleased with himself. “I’maggravating, irritating, horrible, terrible, no-good, devious, tootall, and I have no taste in shirts.”

“Well, at least you saved me thebreath and time of having to tell you yet again,” Marian sniped.

“And I could fix the shirt problemif you would just let me—”

“The day you pick out my clothesis the day I—oh, wait, that’ll never happen,” Alasdair shotback, still grinning. “Ever.”

“Just a little embroidery—”

Alasdair turned away, cradlingPuppy, and for a moment Marian worried that she might haveaccidentally hit a true nerve in their familiar argument; but then hegrinned at her over his shoulder. “Hush,” he said with mockconcern. “Puppy shouldn’t have to see us fight.”

“Oh, you,” Marian said, morerelieved than she cared to admit. “How do I even put up with you?”

“I have no idea,” Alasdair said,squinting down at Puppy. “I’m told that I can be somewhat of ahandful.”

“Who said that?”

“My professors.”

“Was this before or after youcaused multiple explosions at the university?”

“No comment.”

#my writing #the raven's return #very long post #this ended up featuring a lot of Marian #probably because I'm in the middle of writing her chapter #so I'm used to her narrative voice #also #the one with Cait and Lucan?#I'm 99.9% sure that it's the moment Lucan falls for Cait #XD

6 notes · View notes

eloquentyrant · 5 years

Text

Shipping info meme.

Answer the following for your muse(s) so people know how shipping works on your blog.

WHAT IS YOUR OTP FOR YOUR CHARACTER ?

First of all, I ship Oswald x Happiness so jot it down. Jk jk haha I don’t actually have an OTP, I welcome all ships (including with OCs, rare pairs or crack pairs) as long as there’s chemistry between the characters.

WHAT ARE YOU WILLING TO WRITE WHEN IT COMES TO SHIPPING ? Everything with the exception of noncon, vore, incest, and under-aged themes.

HOW LARGE DOES AN AGE GAP HAVE TO BE TO MAKE IT UNCOMFORTABLE?

Typically anything more than a 15 year gap. But it usually doesn't cause me discomfort unless we’re talking about say an 18 year old entering into a relationship with someone in their 30s or 40s.

ARE YOU SELECTIVE WHEN SHIPPING ?

Somewhat? While I’m open to shipping with OCs, rare pairs, crack pairs, characters that are canon divergent etc or even cross-fandom characters, I value chemistry above all.

HOW FAR DO STEAMY MOMENTS HAVE TO GO BEFORE THEY'RE CONSIDERED NSFW?

Anything above heavy petting or make outs. To remain considerate of others, I usually keep anything beyond that in other spaces like disc/ord.

WHO ARE OTHER CHARACTERS YOU SHIP YOUR CHARACTER WITH ?

Besides Edward? I have a soft spot for Oswald with (both) Victors and Jim. Jerome too, bc why not. But as mentioned, chemistry babyyyyy

DOES ONE HAVE TO ASK TO SHIP WITH YOU ?

Yes please. If our characters have interacted at some point and you think there’s a possibility, then by all means come discuss with me! I’d also very much likely give you the same courtesy if i think there’s potential.

HOW OFTEN DO YOU LIKE TO SHIP ?

As and when it occurs, but it’s not the center of my focus.

ARE YOU SHIP OBSESSED OR SHIP MORE - OR - LESS ?

I don’t really understand this so I’ll quote the same response above.

ARE YOU MULTI-SHIP ?

I’m multi-submarines, like ships- just with a lot more tension. (excuse me as i’m shot for a really shoddy joke). But essentially, yes. This is a multi-ship blog, each ship will be considered different verses that do not intersect unless specifically planned otherwise.

WHAT IS / ARE YOUR FAVOURITE SHIPS IN YOUR FANDOM(S) ?

Bruce/Selina, Barbara/Tabitha, Tabitha/Butch, Victor/Nora, Jim/Lee, Oswald/Ed, Victor/Oswald etc

HOW DOES ONE SHIP WITH YOU ?

Slide into my DMs and make a pun about Penguin’s tail feathers jkjk, just hmu and scream your feelings at me

TAGGED BY: @theednygma (thank you!!!) TAGGING : @facestapled @coldcriminal @vexingarkham @verdantvillain @wrongwiththisright @blackfiire @thexgoodman @silcntproxy @hispenguin @akillerconundrum (and whomever’s interested in using this. No pressure though)

7 notes · View notes

whumperwriter · 6 years

Text

Whumptober Day 19 - Exhaustion

Fandom - The Resident

Whumpee - Conrad Hawkins

A/N - Nothing smart that I've got to say. Just that I hope if you're reading this that you'll enjoy! (Also feel free to donate a coffee in my direction at KoFi or give me a follow at @imagine-tay-tion . And if you want to be tagged whenever I post original content, shoot me a message and I can add you to my tag list. 😁😁)

XXXXXXXXXX

He's used to not stopping.

When he was a baby, he was walking before he could speak. His dad liked to joke that he could run before he crawl, but Conrad is very aware that it's bullshit. He was walking early though, and he just never stopped moving after that.

In school, he was always going. From the moment his feet hit the ground in the morning to the moment he rested his head on his pillow at night. He would go to school, then after school practices for the plethora of sports he had on his agenda. Sometimes he would get the chance to hang out with friends, but that was only when he had time. The older he got, and the closer he got to graduation, he would stay busy getting into trouble and just trying to stay out of the house.

Then everything came to a head and the next thing he knew, he was being shipped overseas. Being a marine was clearly no easy feat. Once again, Conrad was never able to take a break and catch a breath. It was always going from place to place, just trying to help people to the best of his ability.

Somewhere in there, he injured his knee and suddenly it wasn't as easy to keep going, but he tried. He kept going for years and somewhere in the midst of it all, he became a resident at Chastain and somehow, he managed to continue the motion.

Three years at Chastain had taught him more than he can really recall, but there's one thing it hasn't. Finding time to stop and take a break.

He's never let it get too bad before. Conrad knows that once he's had three energy drinks, he needs to sit down and take a nap if possible. Fortunately that didn't happen too often, and when it does, the staff understands. Everybody in the hospital was willing to work themselves to the bone, and he was no exception. He would do the same for them.

Fourth of July was where he really ran into issues though. It's been three days since Independence day and Conrad hasn't slept since that morning. He doesn't sleep well during fireworks, and being right in the middle of the city, noises bouncing and echoing off of the buildings, did nothing to ease him.

So he showed up to work the next day and did his job. No sleep to his name but he was doing his best. By the end of the double shifts, he hasn't had the chance to sit and rest, and he's at least six energy drinks down.

Conrad's hands are shaky and his head swims every time he moves it too quick. He's well past the point where he can walk without something supporting him.(He's spending a lot of time using the wall to keep him steady.) He can almost guarantee that he's hallucinating, something stupid like shadows or something, he's really not sure. His head is pounding. He's been snapping at people all evening. He can feel his eyes droop everytime he uses the elevators and suddenly the shoddy break room coffee begins to seem helpful when Bell catches up to him.

There really isn't much catching up to him at this point. He's down in the ER, sitting behind the nurses desk, using a wheelchair as chair. He's rolling back and forth while he ponders some of his new patients and their medical issues. He's so close to the end of his shift, and he's ready to call it and go sleep in the doctors lounge, but then here's Bell, closing on him, and Conrad knows that there is no way that this ends well.

“Listen, Bell, I don't have the energy,” Conrad contemplates his next words, before he stands up, and makes to walk away, “or the time to deal with you.”

“Conrad, I need you to work another shift. We're severely short-staffed down here, as you can tell, and I can't pull anybody else from any of the other floors.” The man says pompously, daring Conrad to say otherwise.

“I'm finishing up a double and you want me to work another shift?” Conrad asks, just to make sure he hears correctly. He stops moving as he looks up at the chief of surgery… and the CEO.

“You heard me,” the older man walks a few steps away as Conrad falls back into the wheelchair, rubbing at his eyes and temples and bridge of his nose. He sighs as he tosses the patient file that was previously in his hand, onto the desk. “And Conrad?”

Conrad doesn't even both to look up, and decides to put his elbow on his knees and hang his head. Exhaustion creeping up on him. “Try not to need me.”

Conrad waits for the footsteps to disappear before he sits back up, and looks around at the relatively quiet ER. He glances at his watch. 10pm.

“Damn it.”

He's about to get up and head to the doctors lounge, knowing that him crashing is inevitable, when Hundley seemingly materializes. “Hey Conrad, we have a multi car crash in route.”

He doesn't mean to sigh out loud, but whoop, there it is. “How many?”

“Right now we have four ambulances coming our way.” She says, almost sympathetically. She knows how tonight's about to go.

“Ok, we need help, let's get some extra hands down here.”

Thirty minutes. It takes thirty minutes to send two patients up to the OR, another to be admitted for observation, five examined, helped, then discharged and then there's the patient beneath his palms. He's trying his best, but he knows that she's gone. She's young too, which sinks to the pit of his stomach. He's doing compressions as Nic and Devon work on her injuries, trying to stop the bleeding.

He does ten more, and then calls it.

By that time, it's 10:32pm and his legs are shaking from the exertion. Conrad pulls away from the body and rips his gloves off, tossing them onto the ground, then he's pulling his gown off and throwing that onto the floor as well.

He doesn't stop to chat to either the younger resident or nurse, instead he walks out into the center of the ER and looks around, pleased that everything is under control. He stumbles to the desk, his chest heaving as he reaches for a patient file that sits untouched before rounding the counter slowly, using it as a crutch.

He's trying not to blink because every time he blinks, he feels his eyelids taking more and more effort to reopen.

He doesn't even make it to the end of the counter before his foot slips out from beneath him and then suddenly Conrad's struggling to keep both his feet under him. He glances around to make sure no one's watching him before continuing, and he makes it this time.

He collapses into the wheelchair again and falls back into a resting position, leaning on his knees and rubbing his eyes. “Hey Conrad, you good down here?”

Conrad waves Devon away, not even bothering to look up before a hand rests on his shoulders and a cup of coffee is steaming under his nose. He's lost time, he knows that for sure. He looks up to see Nic standing above him and he greedily accepts the cup, taking a long swig.

“You were here when I left yesterday. What are you still doing here?” Nic asks, rubbing his back as he pulls the acrid mixture away from his lips.

“I wasn't given a choice. Bell forced me to stay and cover down here.” Conrad normally would have attempted to comfort her, the way her face reddens as she is visibly angered by the statement. He's just so tired that he can't even scrounge up the effort. He prays the coffee makes a difference.

“He's never gonna learn. You need sleep! When was the last time-”

“The night of the third.” Conrad responds, yawning. Nic glances at her watch before rolling her eyes.

“That was days ago, you need rest.”

“I know, trust me, I'm ready to. I'll have Devon take point on all my patients upstairs and I'll just take it easy down here. It'll be fine.” Conrad reassures, grabbing her hand and smiling earnestly up at her.

“Right.” She exhales a long sigh and then turns away from him, her pager beeping. “I gotta go, don't push yourself, alright?”

He nods, his smile dropping slightly as she turns to Hundsley “Keep an eye on him?”

“You bet, Nic.”

And then she's gone.

Conrad's able to make it five more hours. Five hours of energy drinks. Five hours of small talk with everyone who walks in. Five hours of diagnosing and five hours of stumbling around. Five hours of micro naps in the wheelchair. Five hours of using anything as support as his legs grew less and less privy to the idea of carrying him around. If he's honest with himself, part of those five hours he realizes he's lost. His mind just forgot to catalogue at times.

He knows he must really look awful when patients start to ask him if he's ok.

But at 3:30 in the morning, as he's bringing suture equipment to the college kid in the fourth bed, he blinks his eyes.

The next moment, he opens them and he's looking up at the ER ceiling. He doesn't immediately recognize what's happened until Nic's hovering over him, a deep frown on her face.

“Oh boy.” He groans. It's hits him that he's lying on a hospital bed, a pillow resting under his head and his legs tucked under a blanket. He glances up and the curtains around him are all closed. ‘Where are my shoes?’ he ponders momentarily.

“You moronic, selfless, bastard. Imagine how panicked I felt when I got a page telling me you had just collapsed in the emergency department.” Nic is pissed, that's easy enough to tell. Enough time has passed that she's wearing street clothes instead of her scrubs. She's laying beside him, he realizes as she lies back down next to him.

He loves how she fits next to him.

“I'm sorry, I tried not too.” He countered, knowing there really was no excuse for what had transpired.

She sighs lightly, and lays her hand on his chest. “It's not your fault, maybe with this having happened to two different residents-”

Conrad grabs her hand and squeezes it lightly before pulling it to his lips, where he let's it sit. “Nothing's gonna change.”

Another, much louder sigh. “I know, I know.”

“Sucks that it happened. Who knows?”

“Well, everyone who was in the ER at the time, Hundley, and me. We kept it quiet. If Bell found out…” her sentence trails off and he places her hand back on his chest as he turns to face her.

“Thank you.” It's genuine and she smiles that light smile that he loves so much.

“You don't have to thank me. We just put you in a bed and let you sleep it off,” she looks at her watch, “and your shifts been over for about an hour now. What do you say we head to my place and get some sleep?”

Conrad moans in response. “A real bed sounds so nice right now.”

@whumptober2018

#whump #whumptober #fanfiction #the resident #conrad hawkins #exhaustion #nic nevin

57 notes · View notes

abundantchewtoys · 5 years

Text

HS Epi: Meat p23&24 reaction

So, uh, how about that Meenah, huh?

---

I'd actually wager she's not collaborating with Alt Calliope, just intent on confronting her solo, logic be damned. Then again, assuming Alt Calliope's really evil, if she has a silver tongue* she might have made Meenah a convincing offer, don't mind that she wants to consume all and everything. *Figuratively, since she should have a white tongue - although, consuming Caliborn might have changed that, I guess?

As for what the next page might hold - I'd like it that Kanaya, Dave and Karkat would band together and go to Dirk's place. But it's just as likely Dirk will get back to Kanaya nigh-instantaneous after narrating this last part. And he might just influence them into dropping their suspicion, for now.

---

"KANAYA: Why Are You With Rose KANAYA: What Is Going On" Ah, well, so he really did only spent an acceptable amount of time keeping Kanaya on hold. Just enough to pen down what happened to John. ... He won't pretend he's righting John-fanfiction to cover up his previous remark about John & the plot, now, will he? :P

"DIRK: Why would you think something was going on?

DIRK: By which I mean, why would you automatically assume that what’s going on has a sinister overtone.

KANAYA: Did I Say That I Suspected Something Sinister Was Going On

DIRK: Not with your words, no." ... I didn't realize, but because Dirk and Rose are so similar in demeanor, it's basically time to dust off ye olde flight-broads-and-their-horseshitometer, isn't it? There's going to be a bit of back and forth here, for sure.

"DIRK: But in the grand scheme of things, isn’t something always “going on”? Why would you even ask “what is going on” if you didn’t assume that the thing going on was both abnormal and untoward.

KANAYA: Well Now I Definitely Think That Something Sinister Is Going On Because You Are Obviously Trying To Distract Me With Semantics" "Phrasing!" is not something Kanaya is focusing on when people might be in jeopardy. Nice try, Dirk.

"DIRK: A tactic I’m sure you’re familiar with.

KANAYA: Excuse Me

DIRK: I’m just making an observation. You know your wife pretty well.

KANAYA: ...

DIRK: You know all of her tricks, all her little personality quirks. You’re confident that you know everything about her.

DIRK: But for some reason, you have no idea where she is right now." ... Is he trying to make Rose look guilty of something now? ... I would almost think he's trying to bluff his way out with his omniscience, but Kanaya's actually not going to take it well if he demonstrates he knows more than he should.

"KANAYA: Why Dont We Start This Conversation Over Again And You Can Say The Correct Thing This Time" "KANAYA: Hello

KANAYA: Excuse Me But I Would Like To Speak With My Wife Rose

KANAYA: Whose Phone I Do Believe I Am Calling

KANAYA: As Even These Primitive Human Smartphones Have Acceptably Accurate Caller ID Technology" This is Kanaya at her best. Longwinded and accidentally(?) sarcastic.

"DIRK: Sorry, Rose can’t come to the phone right now.

DIRK: She is otherwise... /occupied/.

KANAYA: Where Is She

DIRK: She’s at my place.

KANAYA: Im Sorry What

KANAYA: Rose Is Extremely Ill And Should Not Be Leaving The House Alone

KANAYA: What Is She Doing At Your Place" Rose didn't seem bothered by Dirk's request to come over, but that might have just been her overestimating herself. Plus, Dirk claimed he had a solution to her condition. I don't think the solution is getting her to fall asleep. Unless it gives her time to readjust, but then why wouldn't her pills have helped? I also don't think he's induced a situation where Rose is in a sort of trance, a dreambubble-like dream, communicating with her alternate selves while she absorbs their knowledge. Would be a fun conversation to read, though.

"DIRK: Chillaxing, whilst we discuss the inevitable heat death of the universe and the unknowable, solitary nature of human consciousness.

KANAYA: I See" That second part may have been discussed somewhat, but it already passed. Kanaya's not going to buy this even it laid in the discount bin.

KANAYA: If She Is Capable Of Such Abstract Polemics Why Is It That She Cannot Speak With Me

DIRK: That’s a damned good question." I had NO idea Dirk was this bad a liar. Guess it was only due to his AI nature that Lil Hal was so good at it, huh?

"Kanaya loves Rose, but sometimes love just isn’t enough. Sometimes what you need is /understanding/." He can't really work his magic on her through the phone, right? ... Plus, even then, she's not a god tier, she isn't growing towards an ultimate self, why would he bother?

"KANAYA: I Am Not Making A Joke

DIRK: Me neither.

DIRK: I don’t really “do” jokes?

KANAYA: Neither Do I" Why is Dirk even pulling her leg like this, I mean, he could've lied convincingly OR told the truth, why this? ... Maybe the "understanding" bit didn't mean Dirk's trying to understand Kanaya. Maybe he means, Kanaya can't help Rose but Dirk can. But still, why all this horseshit?

"DIRK: I do often make statements which hold varying degrees of irony, acerbic wit, or dry expressions of amusement.

KANAYA: Yes That Roughly Describes Many Of The Remarks I Make As Well

DIRK: I knew you’d understand." Oh... OH!!! He wants the OTHER people to understand HIM! Somehow, that is what triggered Rose's current state?? And he's trying to make Kanaya faint as well?? But WHY?? Well, now you can start the game of "when did Kanaya's comments start sounding like Dirk's", which her quirks makes more difficult. I suppose it's already happening, when I read back. D:

"KANAYA: However My Commiseration On This Matter Should Not Be Mistaken For A Gesture Of Friendship Or Camaraderie At This Moment" This echoes Karkat's comments in the vein of "this doesn't mean that friendship is what's taking place here".

"DIRK: Then it seems we’re at an impasse." Is that true, really? Not sure if Kanaya can withstand this... whatever it is. Sympathetic linking??

"KANAYA: It Wont Be An Impasse For Very Long

KANAYA: Im Coming Over Immediately

KANAYA: To Retrieve My Wife

DIRK: If that’s what you want.

KANAYA: Tell Her That Im On My Way

DIRK: Sure. I’ll get right on that." WHAT'S YOUR GAME??? It still seems like he might stop her at the last moment, I mean. Why would he allow them to confront him?

"Rose looks up from where she’s suffering on the floor. The shadows around her are growing. She stares at me with glassy eyes.

ROSE: Is everything okay?" Wut?? She's conscious again? ... Don't tell me Dirk was, in fact, telling the truth, and while he wrote the previous scenes, he simultaneously spent time talking with Rose. That's really like a Doc Scratch thing to do, you know, holding multiple conversations at once.

"DIRK: Yeah. Just a telemarketer.

DIRK: You know how those carapacians can be when they want to sell you some chess shit.

DIRK: Impossible to get ’em off the phone." So... He's trying to talk Rose into coming to a certain understanding, then? (All the while isolating her from her loved ones.) Nothing as crude as a soulbot, he's trying to walk her through the final stages of the ultimate self? Even if she specifically stated the idea scares her? She's not well though, in pain as she is, she didn't notice who Dirk was talking to.

'The shadows around her are growing', it said about her. I suppose it's due to the hour, not an indication that her ultimate self is grimdark? I hope?

---

"The server Meenah fled through is a distant speck now." Ooh! Back to John now! Guess Rose's conversation continues in the background. Pleased to see Dirk deems his continued adventures plot-relevant enough to continue narrating after a small time skip. So uh, I guess John wasn't able to open the device himself. Otherwise he'd have wanted to get his ring back.

"It doesn’t really bother you, though. It’s not like you had any plans for it. Taking it from Aranea was, like, a bonus as far as you were concerned." Huh! I didn't think he'd be so 'meh' about it.

"Extra life ring? Nice, maybe it’ll come in handy someday. Scratch that now." I guess the whole "conditional immortality" thing kind of makes resurrection artifacts lose their shine. But Rose, I assume, had a plan for John travelling back to that moment that extended beyond "pre-emptively clock the bitch that killed my alternate self before she could do it". Well, I GUESS it could be she didn't, Terezi messed with him too through her list.

"The young Condesce has it, and is probably hatching bold new plans as we speak. Not that those plans will ever have anything to do with you." Is this John's thoughts, Dirk giving John's thoughts, or Dirk's own opinion? Does he think her plans will have something to do with himself instead of John?

"Hours and hours slip by. Your eyes starts to hurt, and the wound in your chest starts feeling numb. It’s a disconcerting combination of sensations." Okay, so the wound was still there. But is the numbness coming from it healing, slowly, or the poison? :/ I can imagine peaking at white space for so long is a drag on the eyes, especially if your glasses are in such a shoddy state. Plus he's probably getting real tired. Just as long as he doesn't realize he died at one point, when someone mentions his eyes are white. :/

"After a while you think about tending to your wound. There must be something in your dad’s wallet that you could use to bandage the gash." Well, better late than never, I guess? Though that doesn't apply to poisoned wounds...

"You eye the wallet and try to imagine what could possibly be inside it that would be of any use on a medical basis. A straight razor?" So... he did peek inside it before we skipped ahead. Guess he might not have accessed the wallet modus so much as peeked at the literal object, and found a note?

"You notice you can’t seem to make yourself care about healing yourself long enough to continue entertaining ways to MacGyver your body back to health" That the depression talking again, John? :/

"A glint of red catches your eye, just ahead. Then it’s gone. No... there it is again, another glint. It’s flickering or sparkling in some way." I don't think it's Red Miles? :P Maybe Terezi's dragon wings.

... Blaperile has a good idea, it might be the red ruby slippers. Welp. At least John might call his search for Jade over when he finds them? But that seems to go against Dirk's plan for keeping him out there, hmmm.

"What it that? You drift toward it without urgency, worried that it’s exactly what you think it might be.

You get close enough to confirm. Two small red slippers, coated in tiny gemstones." The witch has gone to the wizard's lair, but she won't be coming back from there. End poem. :/

"Jade’s empty shoes are a depressing sight, but you feel a sense of duty to retrieve them. Might as well. You secure them in the wallet, along with whatever other junk is in there." Not sure if they have any magical properties. They DID lead Game Over Terezi to her 'home', in a sense, with Game Over Vriska.

"Your wound is starting to throb again. You can hear your blood in your ears. The rush of your pulse is so loud that it almost sounds like the engine of a rocket sputtering to a stop." Pfffff, that's literally what's happening, right? Terezi finding him, having flown over with her dragon wings. If so, the non-magical ruby slippers worked! In a nice twist from Game Over Terezi finding John while she was gravely injured and wearing the slippers. Well, to be fair, they're red and bright, and that's why GO Terezi took them, of course post-victory Terezi would be attracted to them out here as well!

"Wait. It sounds exactly like the engine of a rocket sputtering to a stop." Finally! I've been looking forward to this reunion. To see Terezi's reaction to everything that's happened, her knowledge of Vriska's current state, and just see how the demeanor between John and Terezi is now, after all this time.

"She hovers in place, looking not a whole lot different from when you last saw her years ago." I think she aged as much as him, though of course a time difference shouldn't be ruled out. But even so, tealbloods age real slow anyway.

"Her arms are crossed over her chest, making knifelike angles where her elbows jut out." Terezi is really all edges, isn't she? Sharp in body as in mind as in glasses as in horns. :D

"She is giving you a look of absolute disregard. It’s an expression of exasperation so performative and habitual, it sends bolts of aching nostalgia and fondness through your heart." <3<, back in business!

"Dumbly, you raise your hand and give her a dorky little wave. It does not adequately communicate whatever it is you’re feeling right now. But then, nothing else would, you suppose.

She waves back. But hearing her voice is what makes it real.

TEREZI: H3Y LOS3R" That's probably how they said goodbye on Earth C as well. It's how they said goodbye before the last fights in the session, anyway.

---

Cool, something to look forward to. I'm banking on Terezi's sharpness/aspect, to notice Dirk's influence on John/the plot! Might be too much to hope for, though.

But hey, now John has retrieved the wallet like Game Over Terezi wanted. Not sure it'll become relevant, since Vriska & Terezi deduced he'd need it to captchalogue Earth C.

Also, I really hope her Mindy thing gets discussed, what she underwent during Terezi: Remem8er.

#homestuck #upd8 #spoiler alert #reaction #homestuck epilogues #homestuck liveblog #kanaya maryam #dirk strider #terezi pyrope #john egbert

1 note · View note