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delicrieux · 3 years

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—MAKE YOU SAY “OH” EXTRAS: TINDER

extra meaning non-canonical occurrence; can be placed anywhere in the “make you say oh” timeline after couple (cha. 14) and before the final “oh”.

pairing—corpse husband x f!reader warnings—tinder profiles, tw: men, swearing. word count—2.6k. format— written. ─── ❥ req by nonnie: y/n makes a youtube vid/live stream where she's just swiping through her tinder acc and corpse literally blocks her lmao

author’s note—akldsljfs this was such a funny idea i could not not write it lmao

ultimate masterlist. myso masterlist

You have pulled the biggest brain move by setting up both a facecam and a screen recorder on your phone. All is beautifully displayed and visible during the stream. Your fanbase is particularly intrigued on what exactly are you planning on doing today, seeing as your tweet of “strea” had been a bit vague, if not downright ominous. No emojis. No elaboration. You couldn’t even be bothered to finish the word. Truly, a mystery. Everyone tuned in and are currently waiting with bated breath.

A few of your fans must sense upcoming doom because the overall mood in the chat turns from optimistically intrigued to...evil. It’s an entity all on it’s own now, clawing at you through the screen with various renditions of laughter and devil emojis. A few eggplants thrown in there for good measure, accompanied, naturally, by the scandalous water drops. At first the common consensus is that you’re biting the bullet and going through your camera roll on stream. Definitely an idea worth considering, though you frankly don’t know what lies at the start of the 11k photograph journey, and you are afraid to check in public. Could be a harmless meme, could be a salacious pic you had saved of an OF star. It’s really a gamble. Either way, you would definitely get banned. You might still get banned. Why do you insist on doing shit like this?

Because it’s funny. Because you’re kinda stupid. Because it’s just so absolutely laughably easy to do.

A smile quirks your lips, and while it is not explicitly smug, the look in your eyes sure is, “Greetings,” You utter lowly, dimming the lights--the budget for this stream! Ugh, you went all out, “my children.”

mother i crave violence

sensing evil energy rn!!

i do not claim the energy in this video for myself or anyone else watching this 💖💖

^with peace and love shut the fuck up

“I know y’all lowkey hoes-” Upon your words the chat splits into two: one side eagerly agrees (even shares a few OF accounts! How helpful, supporting small businesses!), whilst the other feverishly insists on innocence. You make a face stuck somewhere between offended and bewildered, “Now c'mon now-I know you. I know you all. We’re the same, don’t-what was that?”

You try to scroll back to the comment but it’s loss in the sea of incoming messages, “I swear to God I just saw-”

Corpse_Husband: i love late night streams it’s not like i have anything better to do.

“COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORPSE!!!!”

rip headphone users

i cant feel my face when im with you by the weeknd but instead of face its my fucking ears

yall think full vol on pc is better?my parents woke up 😭😭😭😭

To think he’s spending his last waking moments for today with watching you (he probably still would have anyway, because you do not posses an ounce of shame or self-control and pester him relentlessly)! It makes your heart sing, and suddenly, a traitorous, fun hating idea barges it’s way through the crowd of incoherent buzzing and states: don’t do this. For some reason it also has the voice of Rae. As if that would work in guilt-tripping you- Rae never succeed, and her fictitious rendition in mind won’t fare much better either.

Still, you thought about it. That must count for something. Corpse will understand, won’t he? Why don’t you want to upset it in the first place? Men look so funny when they lose their shit, like hello, don’t you have anything better to do? But the image of Corpse just sitting there, hurt, distraught, leaving you on seen because he’s in his sad boy hours leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

queen rly went from 🥺😊 to 😕 u ok bbgirl?

Corpse_Husband: no pouts cutie

akjdjoeijdfse cUTIE??? deadass boutta r.i.p.

Well that succeeded in eliminating everything from mind, doubts included. If this was an anime, the scenery would shift into something roseate, with flowers and bubbles and sparkles all around you along with a halo or two. Alas, not an anime, rather reality. The led-lights, however, seemingly possessing a will of their own, slowly turn from deep violet to pink. You smile brightly, like the absolute dumbass you are, and you are met with a ray of heart and blushing emojis. You are just so cute, a real cutie! Still in your disguise adorable state, you swipe your finger on your phone screen, the grin never leaving your lips.

There, among the plethora of apps, nestled sits a red square with a white fire plastered on it. The delicate calligraphy on the bottom reads: TINDER.

The mood changes once again- you’re giving the roaches emotional instability by how quickly everything flips over- and the chat spams eggplants vigorously; some, of course, bravely fight against the thirst.

nooooooo i thought y/n is gonna stream in a god honoring way!!!

^pack it up girl defined

“So, Charlie and I-” You note a few awfully curious comments and squint, “-yes, we talk a lot. Charlie is a really good friend of mine. We’re best friends. Brothers. Sisters. Cousins. The whole fucking family tree-no, that sounds weird. Delete. Anyway, Charlie, being the absolute fucker he is, said, hey, you know what would be funny? And I was like, nooo, what would be funny, Charlie? And he says to me, he says, says, making fun of men on Tinder. And if y’all need any more proof that Charlie and I are platonic soulmates, then dunno, my children, my roaches, I dunno-I dunno what more to give you.”

You can’t be bothered reading the comments, there’s too damn many. You also need to save your reading comprehension for the actual bios. It has a time limit, that darn thing.

“Okay, so I made a profile earlier, but I hadn’t swiped on anyone yet-” Despite the fact, Tinder helpfully informs you that already 99+ people have swiped right on you, “So, this is me,” You show the pictures you have of yourself, and damn, not to be a conceited narcissist, but you look really good. Like if you saw yourself on Tinder, you’d super like instantly. “Uhm, so, my bio-my bio says: let’s sauce in the tub together, ya dig? splishy splashy, giggle giggle.”

i cant believe we are witnessing y/n trying to form a coherent sentence live

shes trying give her time

ya dig??? y not capeesh

what scene from the godfather is this lol?

“My anthem, is,” You laugh, covering your lips with your hand, “Corpsie, this is form you-” Proudly, you show that indeed, Corpse’s E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY FUCKING LIFE is listed as your anthem on Spotify, “Hehe.” Yes, you say that aloud.

Corpse_Husband: you’re killing me Corpse_Husband: thanks baby Corpse_Husband: now delete tinder ❤︎

You ignore his last quip, deciding it’s finally time to get this show on the road, “Right, let’s do this shit. I’m not actually going to swipe on any guys that look, uh, decent? Yuck, can’t believe I just said that, uhm, because I-because I feel like some actually deserve a chance with someone? I don’t wanna get anyone’s hopes up, as I am currently in a long distance relationship with Chrollo. So I’m just gonna swipe on, like, frat boy assholes. Because I don’t care if I hurt their feelings. Quite frankly I don’t think they possess them in the first place.”

The chat voices their agreements. With the ground rules set, you, giddy, click on the first profile.

Does Tinder know what you’re doing, your plan? The FBI agent watching you through your phone must be working overtime, bless his heart. They must, because the the first guy to meet you is named Jason, and there he is, blond hair and blue eyes, holding up a fish the size of his torso. Marginally adequate in looks, pretty good muscles. A solid 7 bordering on 8. He’s the same age as you, 15 miles away, and he studies at some college you don’t care enough to look up. Bio reads:

I like to drive fast. Fishing is my passion, but if you can’t catch me by the ocean, you’ll catch me catching waves, bro! Love a good gym date. You do squats, and I’ll keep a close eye to make sure you’re doing it correctly ;) You probably saw me at a party. Leader of the The Phi Kappa Psi. I’m a Gemini, if that matters lol.

You, of course, read it aloud, dramatically; provide some constructive criticism-he seems nice, but he’s a Gemini, so naturally, you can’t trust him at all! Also, that gym date session leaves little to be desired. With your rant done, you swipe right, and shocker! (not), it’s an instant match.

“Okie, I still wanna swipe of some profiles, so I’ll see what he’ll text later-” For a second you wonder the legalities of this stream, but you’re having too much fun to think of it further, “guys, I won't get sued, right?”

NOW she considers it

well....

if you do, we’ll kickstart your lawyer dw <3

Onto the next profile. Kevin, 25, is seen fixing his car- or, you assume he’s mid-fixing it, you don’t really know why else he’d hold a wrench and be covered in oil. He’s shirtless, and the caveman part of your brain echoes something closely resembling AWOOOGA!, but...but!...blonde hair, blue eyes. You pout again, “I don’t...I don’t really like blond boys, ya know? With the blue eyes and all, it’s just not my thing, uhm, unless it’s like-like...Armin from Attack on Titan. Else I don’t care.”

Onto the bio:

You have to treat a car like you treat a woman: go on long rides, take the lead, but most importantly, keep her oiled up 😜

“What the fuck did I just read?”

The chat is equally confused. You swipe right anyway- another match. Too easy.

The stream continues without incident for a solid thirty minutes- all of your matches, expect a few that genuinely looked like normal dudes that really couldn’t write a decent bio to save their lives, had been blond hair blue eyed gym rats with ranging forms of misogyny. Some opened with asking for nudes out right, some asked about your day first before asking for nudes. You prefer the former. Straight to the point! You admire the gall.

But then, down the forty-five minute mark a profile popped up that made you still by your phone, your smile dying as your eyes bulged. Dear God. Lord in heaven. Who is this demonspiit lookalike and why is he so fucking hot? The neck tats, the skateboard, the clothes- holy shit, you gotta close your mouth before some drool dribbles out.

No bio, just his name, Tyler, and that he’s 23.

“He boutta be 23 in me.” You mutter, swiping right with lightning speed.

WHAT DID SHE SAYYYYY?????????

tyler is y/ns karma for relentlessly mocking that one guy that had a whole ass list on what his “female” partner should be

^he deserved it and also tyler seems like a typical fuckboi y/n grow a braincell

look at mom 🥺 her eyes are sparkling

It wasn’t a match right away. You somehow expected as much, but it still upset you. Simp behavior, pathetic. The stream continued bravely, and when Tyler messaged you a simple “yo” you totally didn’t sequel. You didn’t manage to text him back on stream: texting all those guys that you didn’t really find all that attractive was easy, but this...You’re a sucker for a man who radiates red flag energy. His whole profile is a red flag. He might just be a red flag himself.

What can you do? Suddenly becoming color blind is not easy. Once the stream ends, you unmatch with everyone expect Tyler. He you chat with for a bit, but a sudden craving for different company makes you abandon him, too. You don’t feel too heartbroken for him- you’re certain there’s already too many girls in his dms. You wish them luck.

Happily, you delete Tinder. You go to Twitter, notice you’re trending again- look at you go! Queen shit- and as you compose a thank you tweet, something strange happens. You go to text Corpse, but when you click on his profile you grow cold.

YOU’RE BLOCKED. You can’t follow or see @/Corpse_Husband ‘s Tweets.

...Pardon? You hop onto Instragram and-also blocked. Seriously? And you thought you’re one petty bitch. Corpse is seriously prissy about everything. Damn, if he didn’t like your stream, he could’ve just said so. Didn’t need to, like, block you from his internet existence. So not cool.

You try texting him but no text go through. Well how will you let him know you deleted Tinder just like he asked? You relieve your frustrations by punching your pillow a few times. Later, you apologize to her, you didn’t mean to hurt her, it’s not her, it’s you. Fuck, 5 minutes of exile and you’re already loosing your mind.

“Raeeeeeeeeeeee!” You whine loudly. It’s roughly 2am now, but you don’t care. You’re too heartbroken to care. There’s a thump from her room, but nothing else, “Raeeeeeeeee!!!” You wail, wallowing in self-pity on your bed. You hear a very loud, very annoyed sigh from her room, followed by angry marching. Your door is abruptly thrown open, and in the dim, colorful light you see her scowl.

“What?” She grits.

“Can you please tell Corpse to unblock me from everything?”

“What did you do now?”

“I made fun of men on Tinder.”

She pauses, “...That doesn’t sound so bad.” She surmises, voice laced with suspicion, “What else?”

“...There was one really hot guy that I kinda sorta talked to after--”

“Y/n.”

“-But I totally deleted Tinder and honestly he was pretty boring, so, like, uhm, please?”

She sighs, the servery of which implies she is holding the weight of the world on her shoulders, and instantly you know that you won. She taps away at her phone, “You owe me one.” She states, and before you can reply, she exits your room and slams the door behind her.

Grinning, you text his phone again. The message goes through, oh gosh, you’re so relieved you feel like crying. This has been, officially, the worst five minutes of your life.

You Y DID U BLOCK ME LOSER!!! MAJOR LOSER ALERT!! I DELETED EVERYTHING IT WAS A JOKE r u still mad at me? y u always mad at me i never do anything:(

my husband You’re my baby, how do you think I’ll react when I see you publicly simping for some asshole on Tinder?

Oh no, he used the words, he delivered the killing blow. You’re finished. Your heart can’t take such a workout.

Not that you would ever admit it to him, though!

You hehe ur jellyyyy u always dis jealous hehe?

my husband Not jealous.

Yeah, you might not be the brightest tool in the shed, but even you know that’s a lie. You send him an array of kissy emojis that he doesn’t have the decency to reply to. Then, completely unprompted and dead serious, you send him a simple voice memo, saying: “You really have nothing to worry about, you know? You’re my favorite, Corpsie.”

He responds via text, reiterating that he’s not fucking jealous and that he just doesn’t like when you show such outward interest in anyone but it’s not like he cares or anything. It’s just really, like, weeeeird to see his baby simping for another man like that totally ruins the whole dynamic!!! It was only natural that he should block you on every social media platform, including his personal number (which, like, was completely necessary! Doesn’t matter that his viewers can’t see it, it’s gotta be super believable!), and inform his followers of that, because it’s all a joke, like, for the dynamic, that Youtube grind, you know? Ya dig? No personal feelings were involved at all. He totally wasn’t upset that you found someone else cute, no way!

my husband I’m not jealous. Lol.

You ik u repeated tht like 50 times u trynna convince me or??? lmao

my husband No comment. ...You don’t actually talk to anyone else like we’re talking, right?

You no one else calls me their baby if thts wat ur wondering at least not to my knowledge lol im all urs

my husband That makes me very happy to hear:)

Yeah, it makes you very happy, too.

hope you liked it!! xx

#corpse husband #corpse husband x reader #corpse #corpse x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse x y/n #myso #make you say oh #imagine #imagines

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ilhoonftw · 2 years

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How do you feel abt Peniel? I’ve been a btob fan since debut and in the later years it really feels like he’s a filler member. Doesn’t rap well doesn’t do anything not even famous internationally to give some international clout and pulls the “im bad in korean” card like it’s a damn personality trait. His rap verses straight up ruin otherwise flawless btob songs - killing me, rock&hiphop, about time, climax etc etc I can go on. He’s pretty harmless and doesn’t rly hurt ppl so it doesn’t bother me that he’s there but damn if you’re gonna ruin btob songs wholesale then give him less lines!!!!!

well, anon, whoever you are... i dont really vibe with the way you worded this. i could write 5 paragraphs but i dont think its worth my time trying to argue and / or convince you, since you seem deep set in your opinion of peniel. i will try to keep it medium lenght. as biased as i am, i admit he has some meh solo releases and verses. but huta also has questionable, borderline nonsensical raps but since he's hot no one cares. if peniel's raps weren't in english, most people wouldnt give a shit about how corny they are. he doesnt even pull the i'm bad at korean card as often as some idols do... if he can get ilhoon's wordplay heavy jokes, then his korean is p decent. imho he's never been a filler member. he was added last minute due to lineup change but btob welcomed him with open arms and took good care of him. i respect peniel for doing his idol job well and having one of the healthies idol-fan dynamics. you probably know that already, but at the same time as his hair condition got so bad his parents wanted him to leave btob, his close friend passed away in tragic accident. dude was visibly shaken, but not long after he started working hard on improving himself, got more lines and started to slowly carve his path. is he the best idol rapper? no. when he was thrown into dance group in kondom, he didn't hide his shortcomings. he knew he'd stick out like a sore thumb unless he works his ass off to catch up. so he spent extra hours practicing. was his perfomance especially mindblowing? no. but in this world where everyone expects perfection and seemingly values this magical thing called talent, i enjoy seeing someone accept they are average at best. and work hard to keep up, even if they only aim at not being a burden to others. do i enjoy everything he does? i dont have to. he's not a deadweight, he lucked out with being added to btob but it's not like he doesnt contribute Anything?? there's a lot going on with idol groups offstage, peniel is a vital member of the team. they all are. dude was battling major hair condition while having people call him useless all the time? and they still do. all over sns and youtube. i do have a skewed perception but at the same time i feel like being needlessly critical isn't the move

#ask

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bigskydreaming · 3 years

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Hello, hello, tis I, your friendly neighborhood ‘dude who is obsessed with people making jokes and insults out of Dick’s name’ back with another episode of Why No But Seriously Why!

In today’s episode, we’re going to focus on the fanon of the swear jar. That thing ordained by Alfred that makes many an appearance in fics and headcanons....including ones that also show Jason and/or others calling Dick a Dickhead and other things all willy nilly and suchlike and forthwith.

How does this track, asketh I? Does Alfred provide exemption clauses for making fun of your brother, to the others? Does Alfred not consider making crude insults out of the name Dick to be a swear? Does Alfred, a born Brit, hailing from the land of the “We’ve Been Calling Richards ‘Dicks’ For Longer Than The Rest Of You Have Been Calling Them Rich’s,” not consider the fascination with making penis jokes out of the name of a child he’s helped raised from the age of EIGHT to be uncultured, crass and frankly unacceptable in any house he resides in?

I’m just saying, does it really make sense, and is the risk of pulling readers out of your story if they’re NOT amused by the jokes made of his name really worth whatever it is you feel is added to a story BY making the same old jokes about Dick’s name?

As I’ve said many times before....Dick Grayson? Fictional character. Has no feelings that actually need protecting....OUTSIDE of fiction. Making jokes about his name from beyond the fourth wall, just people commenting on a fictional character’s name? Go wild, go crazy, have a freaking Bacchanalia. Truly does not matter, if you ask me.

But IN universe? IN fiction? Totally different story, because look what those jokes require or make assumptions out of:

1) That Dick truly has no protective or defensive feelings whatsoever about his childhood nickname, and genuinely feels nothing about people habitually taking his choice to keep it as an invitation to insult or mock him.

1b) That Dick doesn’t in any way ever perceive peoples’ insistence on associating his name MORE with the insults and penis jokes than they do with it just being a name, to in any way be a slight against his beloved parents, of the “well they should have known better than to call him that” variety.

1c) That Dick has no negative feelings whatsoever about the fact that even his close friends and family regard his name as being no more worthy of respect or being ‘offlimits’ than the average Gothammite or public citizen might regard it, despite the fact that his close friends and family are perfectly aware of the public’s history of looking down on Dick for his origins and thus you’d think would WANT to appear different than them in Dick’s eyes.

1d) That Dick has never at any point expressed anger, frustration or bitterness that he can’t even have his name respected without even loved ones superimposing their own associations on top of it, no matter what it means to HIM.

2) That Alfred truly has no opinions whatsoever of the other charges in his care disrespecting Dick’s name and its origins stemming from his first parents.

2b) That Alfred has never expressed this opinion to any of them or made his displeasure about such jokes known.

2c) That Alfred doesn’t find it disappointing that the rest of the family and associated friends and allies seem disinclined to separate themselves from the general public’s opinions of Dick’s name by regarding it with a little more respect as at least a sign that they regard Dick himself with a little more respect than the general public.

3) That Jason or none of Dick’s other friends or family have never taken the initiative to wonder for themselves how Dick might actually feel about the frequent jokes or insults, and if shockingly, he might not actually be fond of them.

3b) That Jason or Dick’s other friends or family have chosen not to care or respect the opinions of Dick and/or Alfred or anyone else who states or suggests that these jokes or insults aren’t welcome.

4) That none of Dick’s other friends, be they Titans, or Uncle Clark, or siblings like Cass or Damian or frankly anyone, ever speak up in defense of Dick’s name and suggest that there’s a significant lack of respect around it and thus around him, that they personally take a very dim view of. (Even when Jason’s best friends include Dick’s former fianceé and own longtime BFF).

5) That nobody has ever bothered to think that only EVER being addressed by some form of insult by even his own siblings might possibly have a slightly demoralizing effect on someone’s self-esteem over time.

5b) That nobody has ever bothered to think that making sexual jokes about his name and thus innately sexualizing Dick from even his earliest days in Gotham, when coupled with the hyper-sexualized stereotypes people often apply to Romani individuals and further coupled with the suggestive rumors surrounding Bruce’s reasons for taking in a young boy, might possibly have contributed over time to Dick having an extremely skewed view of himself as an innately sexualized being no matter what he actually did in terms of sexual behavior.

I mean.....there’s more. If I felt like it.

But the point is......there’s a LOT of implicit assumptions that creep in alongside the seemingly harmless jokes and insults surrounding Dick’s name, the second you start to really focus in on how it might appear from his POV....IF you include even just the possibility that he DOESN’T like it.

EDIT: Also, lots of people have pointed out that its just sibling culture to make fun of a sibling in ways that you wouldn’t be okay with someone outside the family making the same jokes. And this is absolutely true! BUT. My issue here and why I don’t think the Dickhead jokes fall under this umbrella, is because I can say in my experience being from a blended family, and from what I’ve discussed in the past with other kids from blended families....there are ‘rules’ about this sort of thing, when you have adopted siblings, and the one near-universal truth that I’ve always found is that anything that stems from an adopted sibling’s first family, the one you do NOT share with them, is absolutely off limits. You mock them for something that originated outside your family, you’re the asshole, because at that point, you’re literally no different from outsiders to your current family making fun of that sibling. That ‘joke’ is not YOURS to make or share in, if you do not have the history with the thing you’re basing the joke on, that your sibling has with it. Shared history is the entire basis of siblings being able to mock each other while still citing solidarity against outsiders, and in adopted families, there absolutely are elements of each others’ lives that YOU are the outsider to, and it absolutely falls on you to respect that just as you’d want your sibling to respect the same of you in turn. If Jason absolutely would not be okay with Dick or anyone else making jokes about Catherine or his life with her, he should not be okay with making jokes about Dick’s name, circus origins, or other aspects of his life that stem from or call back to his time with his first family. The same holds true of all the others as well.

The other aspect of this name-calling not falling under the excuse-umbrella of just being typical sibling culture is its entirely one-sided. Show me the tendency where Dick responds to these everpresent jokes or insults by even light-heartedly calling Jason and the others insults like Hey Asshole, or Dumbass or anything like that. When things are entirely one-way, the impression given is not that of a camaraderie of back-and-forth. It becomes just one person or multiple people punching down in a way they feel confident from experience the other person will NOT respond in kind, which gives them an outlet for venting frustration, resentment or aggravation which risks them nothing, because they KNOW Dick won’t retaliate, and at that point that exchange becomes something very different from a general sibling back-and-forth....because there’s no ‘back.’ What you end up with at that point is literally just hostility, no matter if more mild than other cases, and a situation where one sibling is simply taking ADVANTAGE of the opportunity afforded by another sibling’s good nature and refusal to engage in hurt feelings even while you feel free to cause those feelings in them. And that’s just not a good look. Its just not. And even if you find those exchanges humorous yourself as a writer or a reader, you might want to keep in mind that to plenty of other readers, its making even the characters you like and INTEND to be liked, just....come across as kinda not cool assholes instead.

END OF EDIT.

And here’s the other point:

Its not really about his name, and never has been.

His name is simply emblematic of how EASY it is for people to fall into the trap of just....choosing to overlook Dick’s POV entirely, the second its pitted against other characters and what they might gain from their POV....even if that ‘gain’ is as simple and basic as the slight moment of humor Jason gets from making a joke or mocking insult out of Dick’s name.

Here, let me present this another way:

Every single person alive has SOMETHING they get defensive or protective about. SOMETHING that they’re like no, this is offlimits to people, this is not for their consumption, their entertainment, its not for THEM to take and twist into something other than what it is for ME, because its MINE. This is basic human nature. EVERYONE has this feeling about SOMETHING that’s particular to them.

And with Dick, most of the things that we’re generally given to view him being protective or defensive about are either almost more about other people than him - such as being protective of his family members - or else, they’re things that he’s not ALLOWED to be purely defensive or say, territorial about.

Like for instance, the name Robin.

Think about how Robin is pretty much one of the ONLY things Dick is largely deemed to be defensive or proprietary about.....BUT how that’s also largely used NOT to have him wholly in the right for feeling that way.....but to put him in conflict with the other Robins, given that they also have strong feelings about the name regardless of its origins, and its not solely Dick’s anymore.

Now here’s my question:

If for example, you go with the take that Robin was Dick’s mother’s name for him, and that’s why Dick is so protective and defensive of that name.....why would he be any LESS protective or defensive about his mother AND father’s OTHER name for him....given that the only possible reason for him TO stick with the name Dick all throughout adulthood, is that its the form of his name they referred to him by, and thus, clearly, it DOES carry emotional significance for him?

See what I’m saying?

Why is it, that the only time so many people see Dick laying a claim to something, being defensive or protective of something that’s HIS, standing up for HIMSELF.....is when the waters are murky, when its not a clear cut case of him being wholly in the right, when it pits Dick against someone else and says both are at least somewhat valid?

Why is it so RARE to see people imagine Dick putting his foot down in defense of himself, in defense of something that’s HIS.....where its 100% crystal clear that he has every right and reason in the world to feel this way, where there’s no doubt whatsoever that he’s on the correct side of thinking “this is mine and I get to say this”?

Even about something as simple and basic as his own name?

And why is it the only time we seem to see people sticking up for Dick or weighing in on his behalf, its in the case of extreme actions like him having been raped or abused? Why are there hardly any stories of people looking at alleged family and friends bitching about Dick or heaping insults on him or his capabilities and saying hey, he’s been doing this while most of us were sitting in middle school detention, you could show him some respect? Why do none of the people who value and respect Dick so highly ever seem to weigh in like THAT in stories?

My challenge, should you choose to accept it, is just to look at the above list of possible reasons why Dick might not be thrilled about how people use his name....and just IMAGINE what it would look like, if Dick just said to another character....”Hey. Could you cut that out. I would appreciate it if you didn’t do that.” Even just “I really don’t like that.”

How does a scene like that go? One where Dick is wholly and completely justified in putting his foot down, in feeling that someone is overstepping or paying him an insult or a disservice?

We hear all the time in fandom about how in the name of ‘humanizing’ Dick and ‘making him more relatable’ some people focus overly much on emphasizing his flaws, his alleged temper, his secretiveness, etc.

I’d like to argue that flaws are not actually the only staple of humanity. Risking making a character more dislikable is not actually the only way to make them feel more human or relatable. THIS is another way to do that. Make them defensive, proprietary, territorial, even prickly.....but with REASON. With CAUSE. With JUSTIFICATION. Because people are ALLOWED to be, when people are being a - all irony intended - total dick to them.

And there is a long, LONG history in fanfics, of people being exactly that to Dick, and him just....smiling.

EXCEPT for when his choice NOT to smile, and to actually take offense and push back......pits him against another character but with the other character usually being granted just as much right and reason to not give way.

So? I’m saying you have right here a perfect example of how to flip the script on that. To make it abundantly clear that Dick has just as much right to put his foot down with even people who love and care about him and say hey, you’re doing something I don’t like, that in fact even hurts me, and I want you to stop.

Why not use it? Why does there always seem to need to be an ARGUMENT about whether or not Dick is in the right to feel wronged in some way.....when its so abundantly clear that he’s given no shortage of reasons for that in practically every other fic?

And consider.....if you’ve never previously entertained the idea that Dick might take offense to how people treat his name, or feel defensive about it......what else might you be overlooking that he could feel that way about, and is there any reason why you think you tend not to view Dick as being defensive of HIMSELF and things that are uniquely his?

*Shrugs* Just food for thought, mayhaps.

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nanowrimo · 4 years

Text

Building Naturally Diverse Characters

How do you know that you’re writing diverse characters, not only for the sake of having numbers but because they add to your plot? We asked NaNo Participant K. Lawrence her opinion.

Characters deserve to be well-rounded, multi-faceted individuals. This is true no matter whether your character has a disability or what sexuality, gender, race, or age your character is. This post focuses on character creation as a whole because, when done right, diversity should naturally find its way into your writing.

Writing Character Bios:

Character bios are a great way to get a feel for who your characters are. Bios can list whatever you like, from physical traits to things like drives and desires. Your character does not exist in isolation of course, and just like real life their upbringing and location can shape their personality. Your initial idea for your story will also play a part in molding each character as you will have certain things your character needs to do and they will require certain traits to see them through.

So, how does this feed into a diverse cast of characters? Giving each character a bio forces you to think of more than one aspect of their character and will pull you away from the major pitfalls of writing characters who are not like you, like falling into stereotypes or one-dimensional, one issue characters. Even if the plot focuses on your character coming out or a struggle faced by a specific group please remember that your characters are more than avatars created to discuss those issues.

Treating Your Characters With Respect:

Research anything you are unsure of. Ask questions. But remember the experience of one person who happens to be the same race, sexuality, or gender as your character does not equate to the experiences of all people in that group. If you do write something that gets a negative reaction from the group the character belongs to then listen to what they are saying, understand why they are saying it. There is no shame in making a mistake with anything in your writing as long as you learn from it.

It can be really simple, seemingly harmless things like your villain being the only character who is agender or making any characters with disabilities perfect, overly nice people with no negative traits that may hurt the most. Be mindful of who you are picking for each role in your book and ask yourself why you are making those choices.

Don't forget that having diverse characters is more than a numbers game. Filling your story with every different kind of person you can think of will not only harm your story and make it unrealistic but could come off as offensive. Characters should have a purpose, whether that is as your main character or the doctor they happen to meet once in your story, and even the bit parts should have a bit of substance behind them.

Writing a diverse cast of characters doesn't have to be hard. Just be respectful of where your characters come from, remember your research, and stay true to who your main character is and who they would realistically come into contact with based on the location and time period of your story. Though it may seem daunting to write outside what you know, please make the effort to include diverse characters. Your writing will be more realistic and richer for it.

K. Lawrence is a writer, live streamer, and artist from the North East of Scotland and is the author of the novel, The Raven and The Nightingale. She also has short stories published in various erotica and horror anthologies, all of which can be found on Amazon. She lives with her husband, son, and a ginger and white cat called Jerry. When not writing or painting, K.Lawrence enjoys listening to music and meeting friends.You can find her on Twitch, Instagram, Facebook, and Amazon.

Photo licensed through Creative Commons by Davide Taviani.

#nano #nanowrimo #diversity #diverse characters #writing #kirsty lawrence #k lawrence #by nano guest #characters #representation

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regrettablewritings · 4 years

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Can I request a Love head canon with Geralt please? I just read the pre-relationship one you did for Jaskier and I absolutely loved it!!

I mean... I can try 😅 Though, I think it should go without saying that Geralt isn’t exactly synonymous with love and affection as we relatively human beings interpret them . . .

Who said “I love you” first?: Assuming we’re sticking strictly to the verbal expression of the phrase, I believe you already know the answer to this. After all, it’s simply not in Geralt’s nature to be the most talkative person, much less vulnerable and affectionate. And that’s referring to his nature as being Geralt of Rivia and not specifically his nature of being a Witcher. You could wait an entire run of three human lifetimes and still potentially have to wait just a bit more to hear Geralt willingly say, “I love you” in this manner. It’s nothing against you, of course, but it’s better for you to recognize this and accept it than force otherwise. Besides, it’s not as though he doesn’t appreciate it: Deep down, Geralt is beyond startled that you would willingly apply such affection and devotion to him of all people, and a Witcher at that! Though, if you’re willing to stretch the expression one uses for “I Love you”, then it’s arguable that Geralt said it first, in some way, considering that . . .

What are their primary love languages?: Geralt is a very . . . sexual being. Physically aggressive. And considering his complex relationship with Yennefer, it therefore would stand to reason that his primary expression of “love” comes in the form of physical touch. Hell, if love languages were a thing acknowledged of the period (and if Geralt ever even cared to acknowledge them), he might’ve grunted and agreed so himself, even if only to get the conversation over faster. But the longer he spends having you as his companion, the more evident it becomes to him that this may not be the case. The thing is, physical touch can be more than just sexual release -- but for him, that’s all it ever was, simply because it was easier for him to do when Yennefer was still around. But since then, he’s come to recognize that perhaps he has more to offer than he gave himself credit for: Geralt operates through acts of service. Geralt is never going to be the most openly expressive one of the bunch, even when it pertains to you. But he’s always going to show his care for those whom he has a soft spot for by assuring their safety and well-being -- in odds and ends, so to speak. He’s never going to write you sonnets or wax poetically to you; he will rarely hold your hand just for the sake of doing so, or be the best at offering words that could technically be comprehended as affectionate. But when he notices you’re tired, he won’t hesitate to place you on Roach’s back -- an absolute honor, considering his protectiveness towards the mare. He’ll make sure that you’re warm and sheltered when you break camp, even if it comes at the cost of his own comfort (not that he feels much of a difference after this point anyway). If he thinks you may be doing something or even considering doing something that might put you in harm’s way or cause you mental or emotional pain, he’s unafraid to shoot that shit down (he loves you enough to let you hate him, so to speak). It may be the bare minimum that he saves you from a death of cold or starvation or hazardous encounters, but for him, it’s a way of showing he at least respects your right to continue living. He doesn’t really expect anything back besides respect. And perhaps some . . . physical comforts. But, once again, to his surprise, he’s not solely focused on physical touch when it comes to you. At least, not as intensely as he normally would be. What Geralt specifically appreciates form you is words of affirmation. But only from you: None of that showy, obnoxious nonsense that Jaskier calls music. Geralt likes feeling recognized as a person, questionable as that sort of title might actually be. He just likes being talked to to a degree, over small things. The affirmations come where you openly appreciate him for his efforts and bravery, and even when you thank him for taking care of you. Being a Witcher is a thankless job. But hearing you appreciate him for everything, big and small, and acknowledging his more humanistic traits at the same time? It does him more good than both you and he ever thought it could.

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?: The closest you get is when the two of you are either in a very crowded market place or are running and you’re having trouble keeping up: He’ll hold your hand to assure you don’t get separated or left behind. There’s also, of course, the preservation of body heat when the both of you wind up breaking camp on a particularly cold night. But other than that, I wouldn’t expect much in the ways of affection.

What are their favorite things to do together?: The lifestyle you both lead (well, that Geralt leads -- you simply adopted it by association) doesn’t exactly lend itself well to couples’ hobbies . . . But the two of you haven’t bitten each other’s throats out yet, so clearly you’re doing something right, no? You aren’t quite sure what it is, but you heavily suspect that it might be when you ask Geralt to tell you about the creatures he’s encountered. Not in the “Tell Me Stories of Your Amazing Feats” kind of way, but more so in a manner of “Please Make Me Aware of the Weird, Strange, and Horrific Beings Lurking in This World and How To Combat Them”. Which suits Geralt well enough, as he tends to skimp on the details and doesn’t care to describe battles or anything of the sort. He knows that you’ll never be a Witcher, but it surely couldn’t hurt you to have an awareness of the world around you. Besides, he’s witnessed far too often the slaughtering of perfectly harmless creatures due to ignorance -- he feels a sense of relief when you express an interest in learning how to differentiate beasts with intentions of harm and beasts that simply want to be left alone unless provoked.

Who’s better at comforting the other?: Neither of you is especially great at it, but for different reasons. Though it should at least be said that you’re better skilled at comforting than Geralt is: You by far are the more emotionally available and intelligent one between the two of you, so the efforts you put forward are at least more overt. However, given that Geralt is a rather standoffish person and not especially prone to expressing vulnerabilities of any kind, it’s hard for you to know if you’re getting through to him. He won’t make it blatantly obvious if something is bothering him unless it’s bothering him in a way that earns his aggression -- and even then, he doesn’t need comfort, he needs you to gently chide him and calm him down as one does to an agitated horse or dog. Or a wolf, in this case. Meanwhile, Geralt . . . just isn’t the best at comforting people. At least, not in the most traditional sense. When he tries to be, it comes off very awkwardly, the words not filled confidence as much as they are hesitancy. It’s only made worse by the fact that his gruff, barely-used voice just isn’t compatible with the words he tries to use. Which is why he feels the best he can really offer to do is just say nothing at all. He won’t reject you or even flinch if you were to bury yourself into his side, instead just slowly placing an arm around you and trying to give a consoling, if stiff, pat on the back. Please know that this is him trying his best, and that he’ll be far more relieved than you’ll be if you actually do find some semblance of comfort in his seemingly low-effort efforts.

Who’s more protective?: Geralt wouldn’t consider what he does protection -- it’s simply what he, well, does. He’s always fighting creatures (and people) in self-defense or for a cause of some kind. And whenever Jaskier joins the two of you, or once Ciri becomes a part of his life, the job only intensifies. Him keeping you alive is simply common decency, lover or not. But if one were to ask someone who’s more emotionally observant like, say, a certain bard who occasionally accompanies the two of you, then he would beg to differ: Geralt is fiercely protective of you, he just does so quietly. Contrary to his stony nature,he does value your well-being. And even if you’re a commendable fighter, he acknowledges that it’s not as up to snuff as his own, making him feel more obligated to assure you come out of encounters alive and well. This is more obvious in the wilderness, of course, but when it comes to civilization he tends to become a bit more lax. He trusts you enough to measure your options when, say, some men at a pub are making particularly bawdy comments about you. He also trusts you to know when to whip out that knife you always keep on you. However, you needn’t worry about him turning a blind eye, should things threaten to escalate: Whether you’re at a marketplace buying some necessities, or paying for your meal at a tavern, Geralt is never so far away that he can’t keep a close eye on you or be unable to step in, should the environment intensify.

Do they prefer verbal or physical affection?: Geralt likes verbal affirmations, yes, but don’t discount physical: At least he doesn’t have to talk or respond when at the end of a long day, you sit next to him and nuzzle your head up to the crook of his neck. Plus there’s the whole intimacy he experiences for the first time in its true form when you and he finally decide to take that step.

What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise?: Hm. It’s hard to say, especially considering that Geralt is a hard person to apply music to, much less music with a narrative or one that actually sounds like anything he might listen to, particularly in a romantic setting. I had to push past that mindset just to pick anything, and what that got me to conclude was something along the lines of “Love Like You” by Rebecca Sugar or "Resilience” by Thomas Newman. Maybe “My Blood” by Twenty-One Pilots. I can’t place exactly how or why, especially sound-wise, but these just stood out to me in particular . . .

What kind of nicknames do they call each other?: You two don’t really resort to nicknames, actually. “Geralt” isn’t exactly an easy name to harvest a nickname out of, and he doesn’t do anything that particularly warrants one in reference to an idiosyncrasy. The closest you ever got was trying out “Wolfy” in reference to his title as “The White Wolf” but the look the attempt received, coupled with your own realized distaste for it, made you drop it in an instant. And Geralt just isn’t the sort to apply nicknames in the first place.

Thank you for requesting this! I hope I did okay . . .

#geralt x reader #geralt imagines #geralt imagine #the witcher imagines #the witcher imagine #regrettablewritings #character headcanon meme #character ship meme #unrelated but GOD i love how he looks in that gif #just subtle yet shocking right???

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marshmallow-phd · 4 years

Text

Catching Rain

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Minseok x Reader

Summary: You were more than satisfied with your life. You attended a nice college, had nice friends, a nice boyfriend. That’s what your life was: nice. You weren’t looking for anything more, so what were you to do when this seemingly harmless boy walked into your life and turned your nice little world into one much more dangerous?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Epilogue

You parked on the side of an empty back road, careful not to stop in any spot that might be muddy. It hadn’t rained for a few days, but with the weather lately, you couldn’t be too careful. The last thing you needed was to have to call Erik and confess to him that you did indeed go out to the woods to take pictures and were now stuck in the mud and needed his help.

A small part of you felt guilty. His concern wasn’t completely unfounded. If he’d had gotten hurt working on a backdrop by himself, whether by falling off a ladder or being hit by a light, you would be hesitant about him doing it again. But each of you were your own person, right? Independent not codependent?

Okay, it was probably time to lay of the self-help books for a while. You took one modern philosophy class and it had been a downward spiral from there. Perhaps it was time to give the supernatural genre a try.

The trees smelled intoxicating. Mixed with the humidity in the air, it was the kind of scent that could outperform even the most expensive of perfumes. It was an aroma that surrounded you, engulfed you in its arms the further into the woods you went. The peaceful smile that pulled on the corners of your lips were automatic, involuntary. Not that you would fight if you could. Despite the rumors of wolves running around, you were comfortable here.

Deep within the forest, a wide, oval clearing full of browned wildflowers rested. Bits of green here and there tried to break through the foliage that had died during the harsh winter. Their odds of making it through might not have been great, but you admired their tenacity.

These clearings were common in the woods and yet, they were your favorite places to capture. From one angle, it could seem like you were lost in a fast labyrinth of Mother Nature. Another, a prairie that belonged to another region entirely. The possibilities were endless if you really thought about it. And each clearing, you’d discovered, was unique within itself. Its shape, the plants it held, the thickness of the grass. You knew you hadn’t found every one yet, but you were determined to someday. For now, though, you would have stick with this particular clearing that you had visited before, as it was close to the road for a quick getaway, should you need it.

Sliding the bags off your shoulder, you crouched down and dug through until you found your notebook. The pages were unlined, which allowed you to right down your thoughts and ideas at odd angles. To you, it gave the otherwise somewhat boring inside a more artistic aesthetic. The plain leather cover was soft in your hands, worn from the amount of use and abuse you’d put it through. It wasn’t exactly common for photographers to write out their ideas before shooting. Some drew out the scene they wanted to capture, trying out different angles in their imagination. Most didn’t do any sort of prep like this at all. But you preferred to write it out, especially since most of your ideas tended to come at the most inconvenient times. Scribbling down half-coherent words tended to be quicker than a sketch.

After a quick review of your latest ideas, you tossed the notebook down and turned on your camera. You took several test shots, adjusting each settling until you came to the look you were searching for. Long shots and close ups, you photographed nearly every square foot of that clearing in order to get that one picture. That one picture that took everyone’s breath away, that made them stop and tilt their head every which way in order to take the scene in at all possible viewpoints. You wanted to them to see the world the way you did.

So in tuned to what you were doing, you hadn’t noticed the pair of eyes watching you from the shadows. They gave off the faintest glow filled with curiosity as they hovered in the air. You snapped a few photos in their direction, still unaware of their presence, and then lowered the camera to look back on the shots. At first, when you clicked through the pictures, you didn’t notice the tiny amber dots that blended in with the foliage. But by the fourth picture, you stopped.

Never before had you been scared by this place. Then again, the only animals you’d ever encountered before were rabbits and deer and other mostly harmless critters. These did not look like the eyes of a friendly Disney sidekick. Ice ran down your spine. You couldn’t run. If it was a predator, that would only encourage it. So, you tried to remain as still as possible while lifting your eyes to the spot that the animal was hiding. Perhaps there was a chance that it wouldn’t sense your fear and would take your stare down as a reason to walk away.

No such luck.

The leaves under its paws rustled as it stepped forward into the sun.

A tannish wolf with a long black strip down its back revealed itself. But it didn’t look menacing. In fact, though you might have been fooling yourself, it seemed almost… curious? Confused? It was hard to read the expression since you couldn’t fully compare it to a human. With slow, thoughtful steps, it came closer. You tried to remain still, tried not to move. The strain was causing your legs to tremble slightly. Now, you felt tremendously stupid for not listening to Willa’s warning about wolves. Was this considered an ironic moment? You weren’t entirely sure since language arts had never been your strong suit.

Unable to keep you upright anymore, your legs gave out. At least you landed on your butt with your camera hanging safely around your neck. Your fingernails dug into the dirt next to you as the wolf came closer, still at that same cautious pace. Harder and harder, your heart pounded in your ears. The wolf paused for a few seconds before continuing on. Could it hear your terrified pulse? Silently, you said your goodbyes as the wolf erased all space between you. Its muzzle nudged your cheek, coming to a stop near your ear. It sniffed deeply, then jumped back.

Your eyes widened, somewhat relieved that it hadn’t pounced, but also confused. Why wasn’t it attacking? Why did it look spooked?

The wolf sat back, head tilting back and forth as it studied you. It made no threatening moves or sounds. The tips of its ears perked up and it let out a sound that was eerily similar to a scoff.

“I guess you’re not hungry then?” An odd thing to say out loud to an animal that couldn’t talk, but you blamed it on the shock of the whole situation.

The wolf responded with a short puff of air before lowering itself down to its stomach.

This was… surreal. All the other animals you’d ever encountered had either kept their distance or ran away at the slightest sound. And yet, here was this wolf, laying in front of you, not vicious or aggressive. It was almost… cute, in a way.

“You’re a strange creature,” you said out loud. The wolf apparently took that as a sign to come closer. Crawling on its stomach, it took came to the point where it was almost able to rest its head in your lap-

The shrill sound of your current favorite song ripped through the air. You gasped, jumping up to your feet and running to your bag where you desperately searched through the pockets until you found your phone. It was Willa.

“Hello?”

“Hey, where are you?”

“I, um,” you glanced at the wolf who had jumped up to its feet. “I got bored so I’m just out driving around. Why?”

“Jiyoung called and asked last second to switch shifts at the coffee shop and so I’m free for the evening. And I’m hungry.”

You laughed a little at her not-so-subtle hint. “Alright. Give me twenty minutes to get back to the dorm. How does brick oven pizza sound?”

“Like heaven.”

“Okay, then. See you soon.” You ended the call and looked up, meeting eyes with the wolf. It never broke contact and in turn, gave you a bit more bravery. Lifting up the camera, you snapped a single shot of the wolf. “I’ll be back.” A strange promise to make, but you said it anyway. You wanted another encounter with this mysterious creature. Gathering up your things, you hurried out of the clearing and back through the trees to your car, still sitting on the side of the road.

It took less than twenty minutes to make it back to the university. Back at the dorm, Willa was lying on her bed, scrolling through her phone mindlessly. She sat up as soon as you came through the door.

“Fun drive?” she asked.

You shrugged. “It was fine.”

“No exciting scenes to snap?”

Her tease made you roll your eyes. “No, not really. Now, come on. I thought you said you wanted to eat?”

Not missing a beat, Willa jumped up from the bed, snatched up her purse, and pulled you out of the room, contemplating out loud which signature pizza sounded good.

Minseok growled as he ran through the forest. How he could have possibly lost those three was beyond him. Being unable to find them now was even more stupefying. They were loud, how could he not know which direction to take? He had to be careful. This part of the forest was close to the back roads and Junmyeon was worried they were being spotted too often. If the three them weren’t paying attention-

Click. Click. Click.

Minseok brought himself to a halt at the strange sound. There wasn’t any sort of pattern to it, but there was an underlying shuttering that seemed vaguely familiar. Too curious to just ignore it, Minseok headed in the direction e suspected it came from. Once he found the answer, he’d go back to finding the others.

The sound led him to one of the many clearings in the woods. A person wandering around the area taking pictures seemed to be the source, a camera in their hands. You appeared to be alone. Odd since not many ventured out in the forest by themselves. The isolation didn’t seem to bother you, though as you carelessly went about your task.

Staying in the shadows, Minseok watched your back as you continued to photograph the nature around you. Something… something strange was tingling in his shoulders, like the muscle beneath the skin had fallen asleep. Without prompt from him, his paw moved forward. He should be leaving. Be gone before you spotted him. But he couldn’t do it. Something told him to wait.

That’s when you turned around. By the way you kept taking pictures, you hadn’t seen him. It wasn’t until you lowered the camera to review the film did you freeze. And you weren’t the only one.

Something in Minseok’s world snapped when he saw your face. His muscles contracted, shivered and ached.

Go! an inner voice urged. He tried to turn his body in the opposite direction of you, but failed. Not that way! He had no choice but to obey. So he stepped closer to you. Your eyes snapped up, meeting his own. In his chest, his heart accelerated. What was this? What was going on?

Slightly fighting each movement, Minseok broke out from the tree line and into the clearing. It was obvious you were frightened. And he was breaking all the rules by revealing himself. Logic could not win, however. He kept walking. Even after you fell backwards, he was only able to pause for a brief second. Your rapidly beating heart was loud in his own sensitive ears. But he wasn’t so sure that it was completely out of fear. He needed to be closer. So closer he went. The whiskers of his muzzle brushed against your cheek, sending a lightning bolt through his body. He took in your scent and reeled back.

You smelled human. You were human. But… there’s something different about you and he couldn’t fathom what it might be.

“I guess you’re not hungry then?” you said oddly.

Minseok laughed. Well, as much as he could with this ribcage and these vocal cords. Overwhelmed, he adjusted to a more comfortable position. The feeling in his chest was almost all consuming and it weighed him down. He’d seen plenty of humans on his runs, but this had never happened before. Was this something that would only happen because he was in his wolf form? Or would he still feel like this if he saw you on two legs?

With a glimmer in your eye, you sighed, “You’re a strange creature.”

Taking that as sign, he tested the waters and pulled himself across the grass with his front paws, closing the gap between you.

A song suddenly cut through the air and forced him to a stop before he could rest his head in your lap - an action that he was itching to try out. You jumped up with a gasp and ran to the bags resting at the bottom of a tree. Frantically, you searched the pockets until you found the source of the noise, answering the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey, where are you?” asked a female voice on the other end.

“I, um,” you glanced over him, making him jump to his feet. Will you tell your friend the truth? “I got bored so I’m just out driving around. Why?”

He almost let out a sigh from relief. Talk of an overly friendly wolf would be bad, especially if it spread through town and more people ventured into the woods to try and encounter him.

“Jiyoung called and asked last second to switch shifts at the coffee shop and so I’m free for the evening. And I’m hungry.”

You laughed. “Alright. Give me twenty minutes to get back to the dorm. How does brick oven pizza sound?”

“Like heaven.”

“Okay, then. See you soon.” You hung up the call and met his eyes again. Impulsively, you took one last picture of him, which he didn’t shy away from. “I’ll be back,” you promised softly.

Minseok could no longer feel the ground beneath him. He just stood there, watching as you ran through the trees in the direction of the road. When his senses came back to him, he noticed a small brown square hidden among the tan grass. He went closer to inspect what the object was. It was a notebook.

It must be yours.

Scooping the leather-bound book in his mouth, he took off after you. Following your scent through the forest was easy – it stood out like a pink flower in a sea of green grass. But he wasn’t quick enough. He caught the sight of your tail lights far down the road. He would have to keep a hold of the notebook until he saw you again. You did say that you would be back.

Or you could track her down?

Minseok shook that thought away. How would he ever explain that without giving away his true nature?

Giving up for the time being, he turned around and decided to head back to the house. There was no way he could find the others now. And with you gone, the elated feeling disappeared, leaving him weighted as if he were being dragged down into the earth. Each step was anchored down. It took him much longer to get back to the farm house.

Several other members were scattered about the house, either working on their studies or clowning around. Your notebook tucked between his clothes and held close to his chest, he headed up to his room. After a quick shower, he got dressed once again and sat on the end of his bed. In his hands, he flipped the notebook over and over. He contemplated opening it. But that would be invading, wouldn’t it? But he wanted to find out about you.

So he pulled open the cover.

Inside, in the top right hand corner of the first page was your name. He smiled, saying it softly over and over. It felt… right on his lips. Your face hovered in his mind. It fit you so well, like a jacket tailored with perfection.

The nature of wolves was an odd kind. There was a constant urge to belong. To belong to a pack and then… to belong to a person.

Ever since he was young, he was told about how someday he find that special person whose soul was connected to his. Fate predetermined who that person would be and no one could ever fill the void that existed until that person came along. Ordinary humans would never experience that kind of feeling, that kind of love. The type of love for the wolf that could only be given by one person.

A mate.

Was that what you were? None of his brothers were mated. They were all free – some taking more advantage of the situation than others. Occasionally, they would joke about who would be first. Some thought it might be Yixing, given his soft heart and the genuine warmth he radiated. Others liked to joke that it would be Baekhyun or Jongin, the big serial daters of the pack. Minseok, though, had his money set on Jongdae. That wolf had barely been able to give in to the call of the pack when he first joined them all. He was verbally against the idea of mating, more so than anyone else. Opening up to people was not a strong suit of the younger wolf and Minseok couldn’t wait to see what kind of journey that would be once he was forced to.

Minseok would have been the last person on everyone’s mind for the mated list. Not for any malicious reasons, just because he didn’t venture out very much beyond school so the odds of meeting someone new were low. Or so he thought. He liked being out at the house, being home. He was the very definition of “homebody”. Ironic that he ended up meeting you out here.

Knock, knock, knock.

He looked up and quickly hid the notebook beneath his pillows, just in time before Junmyeon, the alpha, peaked his head in. “Minseok?”

“Yeah?”

Junmyeon looked back towards the hallway. “Yeah, he’s in here!” he yelled. “Tell Jongdae to stop worrying!”

Minseok laughed. Naturally, they leave him behind but then they get worried. He was the eldest, always looking after the others. And yet, oftentimes, it didn’t feel like that.

Where he thought that might be the end of the checkup, Junmyeon, instead, closed the door behind him and sat down on the bed beside him.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

Minseok nodded. “Yeah, of course. Why?”

“I saw the look on your face when you came in,” Junmyeon explained. “You looked troubled.”

The two of them weren’t the closet out of the whole pack. In fact, there were times where it was awkward between them, the role of the alpha and the role of eldest clashing at times. But other times, he was the best one to turn to.

“What do you know about the mating aspect of us?”

Junmyeon pursed his lips, thinking. “The mating aspect? Only the basics, really. That when you meet that one person, that’s it. And you’re supposed to live happily ever after.” He laughed at the cheesy line, releasing some of the tension.

Minseok couldn’t help but laugh along. It died out soon, though, as his mind went back to his current dilemma. “They always say you just know after one look. Do you think that’s right?”

“Yes, I do,” the alpha confirmed. “That’s all it takes. You feel it in here.” He tapped his chest, right about his heart. “Minseok? Why are you asking about this?”

He weighed his options. If this wasn’t what he thought it was and the others found out, he would never hear the end of it from them. But having someone validate his theory would ease some of the strain.

“I think I found her.”

#exo #exo wolf au #exo wolf!au #minseok x reader #kim minseok #xiumin #exo werewolf!au #exo werewolf au #exo series #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #exo supernatural au #untamed wolf universe #Catching Rain

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crimson-snowfall · 4 years

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Hello, I have no idea how i didn't notice requests were open, but since they are, I was hoping to maybe send one your way? If it's alright with you, I'd like to request Isaac, Comte, and Arthur with an s/o that has difficulty expressing what she wants/feels. Example, she doesn't feel like going out on a date, but goes along anyway, or she wants to run her fingers through their hair, or kiss them but can't work up the guts to ask for that. It's totally cool if you can't accept this request! Tysm!

asdfghjkl sorry this took long, this is the last one on my queue, and ngl i had trouble writing this just because... well i have difficulty expressing myself irl too, but nonetheless enjoy~

Ikevamp HC request: MC with difficulty in self-expression (Isaac, Comte, Arthur)

Isaac

As someone who has difficulty expressing himself, Isaac could relate to you very well.

Due to being a novice in love, Isaac didn’t realize it at first because his emotions are all over the place. He only began to notice the more subtle aspects of your emotions after he had somehow sorted his own emotions.

The first thing that he noticed is that while you were quite bold on the surface when teasing him, you rarely talk about the things you want in bed. It dawned on him that once you have gotten him into the mood, almost everything that comes after that is initiated by him, and this realization left him mortified.

Isaac decided to talk to you you about it the next time you tried to seduce him. The confrontation has turned you into a flustered mess, the bold and teasing facade you’ve built to hide your difficulty in expressing yourself crumbling away.

Looking at your current state, Isaac finally had an idea on how he must’ve looked like to you most of the time, and as much as he hated to admit it, the sight of one’s lover being all flustered is indeed cute.

The mischievous devil inside him quickly picked up on this newfound fascination, and what was supposed to be a moment of apology quickly turned into a naughty proposition.

“That’s why from now on… I want you to tell me what you want me to do.”

“Tell you… what I want you to do?”

“Yes. Everything…” The hint of mischief on the last word was so subtle that you completely missed it.

You accepted his seemingly harmless proposal, completely oblivious to its implications. After that night, the tables have completely turned and Isaac is no longer the one who gets flustered all the time. On the bright side, it did a decent job in helping you become more expressive with what you want.

Arthur

You’ve always been smitten by Arthur, and you particularly find his bolder and more assertive side to be particularly charming. That’s why it hurt you even more to learn that all that used to be a facade, so lately you’ve been trying to come up with ways to more naturally bring out this side of him, without feeling like he’s just doing it to keep you from worrying about him.

No matter how much you racked your brains, you couldn’t come up with another method other than to be more playful and assertive yourself. While the idea of being the one to initiate certainly does sound enticing to you, the problem lies in the execution.

Arthur’s just always on the go when he’s with you and you would’ve probably turned into a puddle of flustered mess before you could even dare initiate anything.

Of course Arthur wouldn’t miss the way you’ve been mulling over something lately. Worried, he walked over to where you sat on his sofa and casually plopped his head down on your lap while you were absentmindedly staring off into the distance.

The two of you engaged in a seemingly normal conversation. Unbeknownst to you, Arthur already has an inkling of what’s been going on inside your head, and the conversation served to conversation to confirm his suspicions.

After a while, Arthur pretended to fall asleep on your lap. He looked rather peaceful in his sleep, and you found yourself having the sudden urge to kiss him.

You hesitated for a while, but you convinced yourself that you have to do this at least or else you’ll never get anywhere near your goal. A kind smile formed on Arthur’s expression as soon as your lips touched his forehead, his eyes slowly fluttering open.

Reaching up to cradle your reddening cheeks, he complimented you. “See, that wasn’t very difficult now, is it? I knew you could do it.”

“Wh-what a-are you talking a-about?”

“You’re not hiding anything from me, luv. I know what you’ve been up to lately.” Arthur chose that moment to pull you down on top of him, engulfing you in his embrace.

The next few hours was filled with soft, fluffy moments, with Arthur kissing you in the cheeks and forehead every now and then, as he thoughtfully offered his insights on how you can overcome your difficulty in self-expression.

“You know everything about me– my past and deepest regrets included– I’ve laid bare everything that there is to know about me. So won’t you do the same for me? Trust me on this one and just be yourself around me, luv… then I guarantee you, everything will just fall into place and you needn’t worry about anything else after that.”

Comte

Comte loves nothing more than spoiling you, so the mere idea that you’ve been simply going along with everything he does for you because you had trouble expressing yourself struck him real hard.

Comte resolved to to refrain from spoiling you until he addresses your difficulties in self-expression. In the meantime, he spent more time in observing you and what you normally do on your free time to understand you better.

The transition was so smooth that you barely took notice, but Comte has began subtly asking you for your opinion on various topics. You didn’t think much of it, but you’ve started to enjoy exchanging ideas with him.

You admired his wisdom on the topics he brought up and consequently lost yourself in these conversations.

You didn’t even realize that as time went on, you’ve actually began bringing up topics that interest you on your own. Comte enjoyed listening to your perspective on things and it helped him see many things in the world on a new light.

These conversations is what ultimately helped you become more comfortable with your self-expression, and gradually you were able to speak your mind more freely, and saying what you want and expressing what you feel just came naturally after that.

And that’s the last request on my ask box... welp with that I’m opening my ask box again but I’ll be on a little hiatus and will not be taking requests for the meantime... life is just a bit overwhelming rn and I want to do things on my pace without feeling anxious that there are people waiting on me, but if you enjoy my HCs/scenarios rest assured that I’ll be posting some of my own ideas from time to time while I’m not taking requests... in the meantime you can still drop by on my inbox/asks if you want to talk or ask about ikevamp stuff ^w^

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aspoonofsugar · 4 years

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Nen and Characters: Pakunoda, Senritsu and Biscuit

Pakunoda, Senritsu and Biscuit are secondary charcters who have had an important role in specific arcs. What is more, both Pakunoda and Biscuit can be compared to Senritsu because they explore different themes related to this character.

To be more specific, Pakunoda and Senritsu are similar because of two reasons.

1) Both have been assisting and helping respectively Kurapika and Chrollo aka the MC and the main antagonist of the York-Shin City arc. They have also had some level on influence on how Kurapika and Chrollo’s stories have developed in that specific arc.

2) Both have powers linked to two important things discussed in the YS City arc.

a) Their powers have to do with the act of gaining information about others. This is something which is central in the YS city arc, as we are told by Light Nostrade:

b) Their abilities have also to do with empathy and this is not by chance since both Senritsu and Pakunoda are two of the most empathetic members of their respective groups.

Senritsu and Biscuit explore instead themes related to beauty and how this trait influences life and is perceived by people. What is more, both have ended up becoming valuable allies of the protagonists and have helped them grow in different ways.

1) Senritsu has helped Kurapika grow emotionally.

2) Biscuit has helped Gon and Killua grow up in terms of physical strength and nen skill.

This meta will try to explore these three characters using Senritsu and the themes explored by her as a connecting link among them.

PAKUNODA: THE MEMORY THIEF AND THE EMPATHY DELIVERER

Pakunoda’s ability is considered very precious for the Phantom Troupe and it is specifically linked to the act of gaining and elaborating information:

This makes sense because Pakunoda is able to extract memories from both people and objects. This is why she is so important for the Troupe and why she is so dangerous for Kurapika, as Killua immediately realizes. Her importance in the York Shin City Arc highlights once again how fundamental information is for the journey Kurapika has chosen to take and for his character and his arc specifically.

At the same time, this ability also makes Pakunoda a “memory thief”:

Even if it was not shown in the series, Paku has the power of deleting people’s memories and it is easy to see how this comes in handy to manipulate others and the information they have. After all, we have seen Pakunoda being pretty manipulative in the story as well. This is made specifically obvious when she interrogates Squala and makes use of his lover to trigger him and lead him to his death.

In other words, Pakunoda’s ability is coherent with her role as a thief, but what she specifically targets is people’s past. However, a person steals what they usually love and the story makes clear that memories and past are precious to Pakunoda:

As a series HxH is not full of flashbacks. The characters’ pasts are usually given to us through conversations or specials (the Kurapika one) and the ones we have are usually highly informative (the one about Nanika) and not that sentimental or full of details.

However, Pakunoda’s short flashback manages to convey the Spiders’ past, what their philosophy and spirit is and the importance Chrollo has for them. In short, it is a flashback where Pakunoda’s feelings are made clear as well as the importance the ties among the spiders have.

At the same time, it is interesting how Pakunoda’s strong loyalty to Chrollo ends up being a double-edged sword since it is what suffocates her empathy. As a matter of fact in order to follow Chrollo’s orders Pakunoda is ready to commit horrible crimes. However, when she starts acting not as a leg of the spider, but as a person who wants to save a loved one, her empathic nature shines.

When it comes to this, Pakunoda’s prophecy is interesting:

Neon’s prophecies are supposed to give people advices in order to avoid death. However, this prophecy highlights that the person will have to make a choice, but does not specify which one is the best. It simply mentions the fact that Pakunoda will have to choose between the pride and the betrayal, but does not tell her what choice she should make in order to survive. This is probably because Pakunoda’s choice will not be made based on survival instinct, but on completely different feelings.

After a first reading, it seems that the prophecy is suggesting that Pakunoda will have to choose between betraying the spider (betrayal) or dying (pride). This description fits the choice Ubo had to make at the beginning of the arc:

Ubo chose pride and died. However, Pakunoda’s choice appears more ambiguous to understand:

Pakunoda herself offers this reading of her own situation. It is important to highlight that by that point the future has already started to change because of Hisoka and the spiders’ interference. However, it is probable that the prophecy is still relevant for Pakunoda and I actually believe that her reading of it is the correct one. All in all, Pakunoda chooses to “betray” the Spider in order to save Chrollo and in this way she shows that what she really cares about is not really the ideals of the group, but its members.

At the same time, it is interesting that, when she starts acting for her loved ones, she starts openly discarding the information she might have gained from Neon’s prophecy together with trying to understand what Chrollo might want her to do.

She gives up on her normal modus operandi which consists in her trying to understand how others would act and on gaining and organizing information. That said, she shows her empathetic side:

Empathy is, thus, the last trait her powers convey. Pakunoda becoming a deliverer of empathy is shown by her last action:

She shoots her oldest comrades and in this way passes on her feelings to them.

Her act underlines three things.

1) Her power seems one which can hurt her target since she uses a gun and projectiles to pass the memories. However, it is actually specified that the projectiles are harmless and do not hurt the people they hit, not even as a side effect. This power is perfect to describe Pakunoda’s personality which starts off as seemingly cruel and cold, but ends up becoming warmer.

2) The choice of the people who founded the Spider with her highlights once again the importance Pakunoda gives to the past she and her comrades share. It shows that Pakunoda has found her own identity and purpose in the ties she has with them.

3) Pakunoda gives her comrades empathy on multiple levels.

On one hand her sacrifice makes so that Phynks and Feitan aka the two characters portrayed as the most ruthless and unsympathetic show a more human side:

On the other hand Pakunoda is the character who makes the Spider more sympathetic to both the other characters and the readers themselves:

As a matter of fact it is true that Ubo’s death had already humanized the Spiders, but Pakunoda’s actions and her demise put the group under an even more sympathetic light.

In short, Pakunoda acts as the heart of the Spiders and at the same time embodies the group’s contradictions to the point that, in a sense, her death seems almost karmic. She blackmails Squala using his lover and in the end she herself ends up being blackmailed by Kurapika thanks to a hostage and dies to save said hostage. At the same time, she starts the arc as a memory thief and ends it as an empathy deliverer.

SENRITSU: EMPATHY AND ART

Senritsu has two abilities.

1) The first one is her proper nen ability and it consists in the projection of her aura through her music. Different songs have different effects and she mostly uses her powers to heal others both physically and emotionally. At the same time, though, she is able to temporally paralyze in wonder whoever is listening to her.

2) Her second ability is her hearing which lets her hear others’ heartbeats and emotions.

These two abilities are clearly very similar to Pakunoda’s since they let her gain information on others’ feelings and convey her own feelings to others. However, there are also some differences.

First of all, Pakunoda and Senritsu use different senses to exercise their empathy. As a matter of fact Pakunoda needs to touch the people and the objects she is extracting memories from (tact), while Senritsu is able to simply listen to the hearts of the people around her (hearing). The fact that Pakunoda needs contact to properly exercise her empathic powers, while Senritsu does not might be symbolic of a key difference between them. On one hand Pakunoda must develop bonds to properly exercise her empathy. On the other hand Senritsu is able to show empathy even to strangers and to people she has just met. This seems coherent with both women’s behaviours. After all, Pakunoda is ready to kill others to follow her boss’s orders, while Senritsu is ready to immediately help people she has just met, like Kurapika in YS and Kachou in the current arc.

Secondly, Pakunoda is able to extract memories and emotions rooted in the past which are still relevant for the present, while Senritsu’s ability lets her read the current emotions of a person. This is interesting because Senritsu’s present is very different from her past and her life has changed because of one single event:

It is implied that up until a certain point Senritsu’s life has been pretty normal. However, when she listened to the Sonata of Darkness she ended up being cursed. On one hand her arm has been wounded and her looks changed. On the other hand she has acquired her incredible hearing.

The fact that she was both cursed and given her hearing after listening to the sonata might metaphorically represent that Senritsu has reacted to her trauma (the curse) by developing empathy and selflessness (her hearing which lets her empathize with others). As a matter of fact these are Senritsu’s motivations:

She mentions her wish to go back to how she was, but she also adds that she wants to prevent others from going through something similar. In short, Senritsu’s objective is as much for herself as it is for others. What is more, in the current arc she has said so:

In short, she is ready to give up her own objective for the sake of someone else, not because she is closely related to them, but for the sake of her job.

This seems to confirm what was stated above. Senritsu is a person who can be very altruistic to strangers and has developed/strenghtened this altruism because of negative experiences. Pakunoda and the spiders are instead motivated by their personal relationships and are reacting to their trauma in an extremely selfish way. As a matter of fact they were not given anything and so they are stealing from others, while Senritsu has lost something and does not want others to lose things as well.

At the same time, Senritsu saying she has nobody she would lose her life for suggests that she is lonely. This loneliness might be why she becomes so loyal to people she meets during her work. Who knows? Maybe the lost of her friend to the Sonata of darkness is something which has influenced her more than it seems. This would make her comparison with Pakunoda even more poignant and, at the same time, her having to deal with the loss of a loved one would make her parallelism with Kurapika even clearer.

As a matter of fact Kurapika and Senritsu share some similarities. Both are people whose lives have been changed by a sudden tragedy and they have both gained a specific objective as a result of their respective losses. Kurapika wants to find his comrades’ eyes and to avenge them, while Senritsu wants to find the Sonata and to destroy it. They are both trying to heal themselves through these objectives and this is made clear by Senritsu literally wanting her body back. In short, they are both trying to go back to the past, but they both can’t. What is more, they both are also ready to make detours in order to help others. This is made clear on multiple occasions. For example, Kurapika was ready to risk his life to save Killua from his family and in the current arc he is posponing his objective of getting the eyes back in order to protect Woble and Oito. As far as Senritsu is concerned, she risked her life in York Shin to go against the Spiders and is now risking her life to save Kachou and Fugetsu.

However, Senritsu is not blinded by rage the way Kurapika is (at least not that we have seen it), so it makes sense for her to be the character that calms Kurapika down on multiple occasions.

Another theme explored by Senritsu’s powers is the impact of art and music on the world. After all, Senritsu’s life has been changed by her listening to a song and her powers are a more benevolent and weaker form of this. It has been shown that she is able to provoke in her listeners several emotions. For example, she was able to calm Kurapika down and even to help him recover physically. However, the effects of her songs are not simply curative ones since this arc showed that she is able to make her public feel so amazed, that they would freeze for a while. In a sense, it is this feeling of amazement the nature of music and of art as something not necessarily moral, but able to make people feel strongly. Finally, the fact that Senritsu herself mostly uses her music to spread positive feelings says what her personality is like.

In short, art creates bewilderment and wonder and this can both be healing and dangerous sometimes. Senritsu’s story and powers symbolize this.

In conclusion, it is interesting that in the current arc Senritsu has caught Tserriednich’s attention. As a matter of fact this could be a continuation of the parallelism between her and Kurapika’s stories. As a matter of fact right now Tserriednich represents Kurapika’s final objective. He is the one who has the last eyes Kurapika must retrieve and embodies what Kurapika hates of flesh collectors. In other words, taking the eys back from Tserriednich and defeating him may be the end of Kurapika’s arc. However, Tserriednich is also a character who has been associated with both art and the Devil:

And Senritsu’s objective is to destroy a song composed by the devil himself, so it is about destroying one of the Devil’s manifestations. Because of this, the current developing is interesting and Tserriednich may symbolize both Kurapika and Senritsu’s objective and be important for the both of them.

BISCUIT: THE HUNT FOR BEAUTY

Biscutit has two abilities as well and they are, in a sense, similar to Senritsu’s.

1) Her first ability is called Magical Esthetician. Biscuit transforms her aura in a girl called Cookie who is able to offer several different types of massages. These massages have different properties, but they are mostly used for recovering and healing.

2) Biscuit can transform her muscular body in the one of a young girl. In this way she can appear younger and cuter than she actually is.

1) Magical Esthetician is an ability which is mostly useful to heal people and this makes it similar to Senritsu’s music. What is more, it is interesting that Cookie’s massages have mostly physical benefits, while Senritsu’s music has mostly emotional ones. This fits with Biscuit helping Gon and Killua to grow physically, while Senritsu has been important for Kurapika’s emotional growth. That said, their powers are also complementary. As a matter of fact Senritsu’s music has effects on the spirit, but can also positively influence the body, while Biscuit’s massages impact the body, but are also beneficial to the spirit. In short, their abilities show how connected mind and body are.

What is important is that Biscuit, just like Senritsu, has healing powers which are representative of her nurturing side that she mostly displays around Gon and Killua.

At the same time, Biscuit’s power also shows Biscuit’s pursue for beauty. This pursue is conveyed also by the objects of her hunt:

Biscuit searches and collects precious stones and in her mind she compares her most talented students to gems to polish. This approach might seem utilitaristic since it compares people to goods, but in Biscuit’s case I do not think that is the case. If anything, Biscuit’s pursue for beauty is neither good nor bad and it is a hunt motivated only by the appreciation of what is rare and wonderful in the world. What she is pursuing is a sense of amazement and accomplishment she feels when staring at something beautiful and rare.

This is well shown by the card she chooses to take when she leaves Greed Island aka The Blue Planet. Among all the objects on the island Blue Planet is nothing exceptional. I mean, it is not an object with magical properties and its main traits are that it is rare and beautiful. At the same time, though, it clearly represents planet Earth and in this way the world. Biscuit chooses an object which represents how much wonderful the world is and gets overly excited about it. This is symbolic of the sense of wonder life can still provoke in her.

This sense of wonder fits well with the themes explored in Greed Island arc as a whole:

Both Ging and Gon’s behaviour can be seen as utterly childish and they are both described as selfish in multiple occasion. However, at least in Greed Island this childishness of them is not condemned, but highlighted as a positive trait which is able to offer an alternative take on things and on society’s most rigid structures.

This is also why it is so important that Greed Island in the end is nothing more than a game aka something created to have fun. This fact also underlines both Ging and Gon’s approach to life as something which must be enjoyed to its fullest.

As a matter of fact Greed Island is an arc which explores the positive aspects of childishness and of being a child like the ability to enjoy things and the ability to think outside the box. Biscuit is another character who expresses these themes since she too, like Ging, is a woman-child even if in a different way.

To be more specific she is a character who embodies both positive traits and negative traits of childishness. For example, she can be whimsical and selfish and she is definately greedy since she goes after the money. However, she is also a person who can enjoy the journey and detours and can make the best out of them.

At the same time, her wish for independence and for pleasure leads also to her keeping some distance from others:

Biscuit comments that if she were to follow Killua and Gon she would end up feeling as their mother more and more, but this is not a responsibility she wants to take. This is shown again at the beginning of the CAA where she leaves Gon and Killua after training them and shows no interest in taking part in the mission even if with her strength she would have been a precious ally.

In short, Biscuit is a character who puts her search of pleasant things and beauty above everything else and in a sense “beauty” for her might be a concept linked to “childhood” in a sense. After all, childhood is a period of life where individuals are still full of potential and it is the best time to polish one self and to bring out hidden talents. This might also be what Biscuit truly appreciates about this stage of development and why she is such a talented teacher and easily connects with kids (being them Gon and Killua or Prince Maryam whom she is currently taking care of).

2) This leads us to Biscuit’s transformation aka her second power. It is implied that Biscuit transforms herself into a form she likes. In short, it is something similar to an ideal self. However, if this is the case, it is interesting that the form chosen by Biscuit is the one of a child. As a matter of fact if the point was simply to appear more beautiful she could have simply chosen a more traditionally beautiful adult form. However, she ended up transforming into a child and this suggests that she probably gives much importance to the idea of childhood and connects it to somethign beautiful as it was suggested above.

At the same time, Biscuit has stated soomething interesting about this power:

She mentions that she herself is not sure of how it happened and that it is the fruit of her prayers and intense wishes. This resembles the training made by Netero which led him to develop his incredible speed. However, what is interesting for this meta is that the story of how Biscuit obtained her current looks seems somehow opposite to how Senritsu obtained hers.

As a matter of fact Senritsu’s transformation is caused by an entity similar to the devil, while Biscuit’s one happened because of her prayers. Leaving out entities like God and the Devil we can say that, while Biscuit obtained her looks because of her own discipline since she kept traying and wishing intensely for years, Senritsu was given hers because of a lack of strictness and dedition on her friend’s part. Her friend, thus, was taught the song, but promised to never play it. However, they broke their vow and this led to a disaster.

Let’s highlight that this difference highlights once again one of the major aspects of nen aka the strength to be coherent with one-self. Determination and coherence lead to success, while indeciveness and lack of mental strength lead to a failure.

At the same time, though, Senritsu’s painful transformation comes together with a very strong power, while Biscuit’s one comes with the reduction of her physical strength. This is interesting because all in all Senritsu is ready to do everything to go back to who she was, while Biscuit prefers a handicap rather than to look the way she truly does.

This of course does not mean that Biscuit and Senritsu are both animated by vanity, far from it. Their situations simply highlight how power and beauty are not everything in life.Senritsu is basically trying to heal herself from a past trauma and she is trying to find herself again. Her old looks are nothing more than a symbol of the security she lost when she listened to the Sonata. As far as Biscuit is concerned, she is far more than the way she looks and this is conveyed by her powers which might be seen as superficial at first sight, but are clearly very useful and helpful to both herself and others. Similarly, it is telling that in the current arc Biscuit has managed to conquer a man just by being herself:

This subplot might remain a subplot used as comic-relief and without any great development, but it still highlights that Biscuit has no reason to worry about her appearance and she just needs to be herself to get through others. It might also suggest how Biscuit is both her childish self, but also her adult and mature one and how they are two sides of the same person which she has managed to reconcile.

THE STRENGTH OF A MINOR CHARACTER

Biscuit, Pakunoda and Senritsu are all side characters who are important in specific arcs and through their characterization help convey specific themes.

Pakunoda and Senritsu convey the themes of empathy and its contradiction in the York Shin City arc which is an arc about the futility of vengeance.

Similarly, Biscuit conveys the importance of growing up by maintaining a childish side in the Greed Island arc which is basically set in a twisted version of Neverland.

That is why, I am sure Biscuit and Senritsu will convey specific meanings in this arc as well since the themes of vengeance and childhood are present as well. At the same time, they are also linked to the idea of art and beauty and Tserriednich, the major antagonist of this arc, seems intertwined with these themes as well.

Thank you for reading!

If you are interested in other analysys of HxH characters through their nen abilities here is a list of the ones I wrote up until now:

-Nanika

-Kurapika and Chrollo

-Killua and Illumi

-Gon and Hisoka

-Meruem and Komugi

-Palm Siberia

-Neon Nostrade

-Neferpitou and Shaiapouf

-Kachou and Fugetsu

-Menthuthuyoupi

-Ikalgo and Welfin

-Knuckle and Shoot

-Razor and Genthru

#hxh #hxh meta #pakunoda #senritsu #biscuit krueger #melody #kurapika #nen and characters #my meta

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quixotic-writer · 4 years

Text

Switch it Up (Sal’s POV)

request: @birdgirl1772

summary: For some mysterious reason, Q and Sal wake up in the other’s body. After a quick pep talk they both agree that they’ll pretend to be each other for the day and hope they’re back to normal the next day. As Sal does some cleaning around Q’s place, he stumbles upon a journal and can’t help but give in to curiosity and dive into what’s between the lines of Q’s rambles.

———————————————————

“meow!” Was all I heard as I feel something small and warm curl up against my face. I feel myself slowly rising from my sleepy state and it’s quickly replaced with confusion. The moment I manage to open my eyes, a black cat was mere inches from my face staring down at me with beady green eyes.

“AAAH!” I let out a scream and fall out of bed in attempts to distance myself away from the cat. When I screamed though, it didn’t sound anything like my voice at all, it had a low bass to it and felt as though I spoke with an accent. My hand shoots to cover my mouth and my eyes are wide and I can hear my heartbeat in my ears.

As I look at everything that surrounds me, I am now quickly noticing a list of things: this isn’t my room, there’s — not one but— THREE cats surrounding me, and my voice isn’t mine, nor is this body. I look at the tattoos on the arms but my vision feels so blurred that I can only make out the shapes of them. I quickly pick my now sore body up off the floor and rush into the bathroom.

“Q?!” I spat to the reflection in the mirror with a sense of shock and awe. I stare at each and every detail of the body I now reside in, familiar with it because it was my best friends, but it all felt dysmorphic at the same time because his body is built entirely different from mine. I knew this body wasn’t supposed to be mine, but I was still the one controlling it and there’s no escaping that it seemed. I bring my hand to my face and rub it across feeling the stubble of the beard tickle my palms and finger tips insuring that this wasn’t a dream.

As I continue to play around in the mirror and marvel at the sticky situation i’ve found myself in, I feel the cats begin to brush up against my legs and mewl. I jolt at the sensation and feel the anxiety of my feline phobia well up in my stomach, but there isn’t much I can do since they seem to think i’m Q.

“I guess I should feed you guys, huh?” I speak down to the cats who chatter in response. I step out of the bathroom to head downstairs but I suddenly jump at the sound of a phone ringing. Looking to the nightstand I see Q’s phone ringing with my contact ID lit up on it. ‘Sally Boy♡” it read, a very effeminate name for me. It didn’t bother me, it was actually kind of cute.

“Hello?”

“Sal! Thank god you picked up. What the hell is going on?!” Judging by the sheer panic and the speech pattern and also the blatantly obvious answer: it was definitely Q on the other end of the line. Is that really what my voice sounds like to other people?

“I guess we switched bodies or something. You don’t have anything important to do today that would need me to be you... right?”

“No, I don’t have anything. Do you have anything I have to do for you?” I pry into my memory to think of the seemingly endless list of things I usually have to do, but to my surprise nothing really comes to mind.

“Pretty sure I got lunch with Gatto today, nothing else I can think of. But check my calendar in my phone just in case, and for the love of god DO NOT destroy my house.” The line goes dead and I know Q doesn’t wanna hear it. He’s the complete opposite of me as far as cleanliness goes, if even one thing is out of place if I ever get back to my own body, he’ll never hear the end of it.

I turn on my heels and go to feed the cats as I had initially planned, carefully tip toeing around them so I don’t touch them or stomp on them on accident. As soon as their breakfast is made and served, I retreat upstairs to get myself cleaned up. It’s still a shock every time I walk past any reflective surfaces and see the i’m not actually me.

I brush my teeth, comb my hair, wash my face; the normal things anyone does when they wake up. As I go to spray some cologne, I get a quick whiff of it and just soak in the scent. Q always did smell hypnotically good to me, every time he walked past a gust of it would hit my nose and I would just stop what I was doing to take it in.

“That sounds kinda creepy.” I say out loud to myself and my thoughts come to a halt. I step out of the bathroom and take a look at all the details of Q’s room. It’s a mess to say the least. Clothing everywhere, it looks like he hasn’t dusted in here in ages, his work desk in the corner of his room is riddled with piles upon piles of paper and is completely disheveled. I know this isn’t a matter of a “system” going on, I just know he has a hard time keeping up with things sometimes especially when his depression weighs down on him a little harder on certain days.

I step over to his desk first to try and make sense of the clutter and piles and try to organize them so that he’ll know where they are and why they’re arranged so specifically.

“Notes from a meeting. Notes from another meeting. Paid bill. Fan mail. Contract.” I shuffle through and assign them a pile until I reach a composition book at the pit of all the papers. The front has nothing written on it so I saw no harm in peeking inside and turning to the first page and reading it.

My therapist suggested I started keeping a journal/diary since I tend to lose track of time and have a hard time remembering certain things. It seems stupid but why not give it a shot.

I stop reading immediately and my eyes go wide and pause on the last word I read on the page. This is his DIARY, I can’t be reading this. I flip the pages and see almost half the book is filled with endless scrabbles of words of what’s going on in his head. I’ve never been good at reading Q’s mind quite like he can with mine, he’s always so closed off about his emotions and curiosity is enticing me to read every word on these pages.

“This is so wrong.” I say holding the notebook closed with my forefinger creating an open gap of temptation between the pages. I look around quickly and look back down at the notebook and slowly open it back up. “Maybe... skimming things wouldn’t hurt. Right?” And with that, I was nose deep in the notebook.

Today at set we filmed Sal’s punishment, it was payback for the time the boys thought it would be funny to put tarantulas all over me. I went in early to play with the little cats and kittens that were brought in for the day and I had never felt happier. Nothing brings me more joy than to just be around animals. That joy was quickly taken away though. It was funny at first seeing the little kittens all over him. It was all just mild discomfort it seemed, it wasn’t SCARY since they were small and harmless to him. But when we brought in the actual cats, that’s when I really started feeling bad. He was drenched in sweat, his throat seemed hoarse from the sheer panic and stress to the point where he could barely get anything out, his body looked like it was ready to concave on itself because of the situation. I was laughing with Joe and Murr, but deep inside, I felt guilty because it was all my idea. I caused him pain. I know it’s a part of the game we play, but something about it just didn’t sit right. I just wanted to go and help him and hug him until he felt better. I wanted to say sorry over and over but I knew it would kind of raise some suspicions. So instead I kept quiet and played along... At least at the end of it I helped ease the tension and brought out Big Benjamin Cat. Sal seemed fine after that, and I think that’s the only reason it won’t really bother me for a while is because he was okay after it all. I hate seeing him hurt.

He felt bad about my punishment? This was truly news to me. The way he talked about it too, it seemed so endearing and despondent about the whole situation. Now i’m intrigued and enraptured by what’s within this book, all inhibitions have been thrown out the window and I quickly flip through a few pages and land on another page.

After today’s therapy session, i’ve noticed myself talking a lot about Sal. I love Gatto and I love Murr, let me preface all this with that. But I feel this magnetic connection to Sal that I don’t think i’ve ever really felt with anyone. He gets me even though I don’t tell him a lot, he’s just there for me. When I do tell him stuff, he handles it like it’s glass; He gives it a lot of care and attention. There’s no one else who makes me feel the way I do. It feels like this growing thing for a long time and I really don’t know what to make of it. I’ve tried sorting out all of these thoughts and emotions that go through my head with him, but I really just don’t know. I’m a grown man still confused and I think that’s what makes it hard. It’s also kind of scary because for so long i’ve just been seen as your standard single and sleeps around kind of guy and i’m kind of growing tired of that image but I can’t just wipe it away when its been stained on me for so long. I just hope one day I can sort this shit out and be honest with myself.

With each page that I devoured, I felt as though I was peeling away the layers of an onion and was slowly getting to the heart of it all. With each sentence it felt like I was suffering from whiplash because I kept doing double takes to all the seemingly outlandish remarks. What caught me incredibly off guard was the endless ramblings of me, his infatuation with the idea of me. The image of the mental ideas of Brian Quinn was slowly being pieced together like a puzzle with this journal. Without realizing how much time had passed or how much I had read, I had finally reached the last and most recent entry, the one that sent my heart into an inferno.

I think now is a good a time as any to finally come clean with myself. It’s time i’m honest with myself and I stop holding myself back, no more lying to myself, no more blind blatant ignorance, none of that. I’m Brian Quinn, and I admit it: I have fallen in love with my life long best friend Sal. Wow. It feels oddly invigorating to finally get that out of my system. Maybe my therapist was right about this journal thing. Yes, I love my best friend but I don’t know what to do about it. He’s honest with me and said he wouldn’t mind being with a guy and that gave me a small spark of hope, but I just don’t know if i’m a guy he’d be into or not. It could be an unrequited love situation for me and it would hurt a lot to have my heart crushed like that. But honestly, I don’t care if he doesn’t love me back, I just don’t ever want him to disappear out of my life. That’s what’s stopping me from just spouting it out and telling him the truth. I don’t want to scare him away, I don’t want him to feel awkward around me, I don’t want things to change for the worse. I just want Sal, in the sense of his presence, his companionship, his friendship. That’s all. Maybe one day i’ll have the confidence to tell him, but for now i’m just happy that i’m confident enough to tell myself the truth.

I sat there for an unknown period of time. I leaned back in the chair with my mouth slightly agape and brushing a hand through my hair, unsure of how to process everything that I just read. It felt like a guilty pleasure to finally know all of this about someone I thought I had pegged pretty well.

There’s one big detail that stood out loud and boldly to me: Q, my best friend, has fallen for me. It’s so crazy to read what’s on his mind and watching him figure this out and realize what the emotions were page by page.

I close the notebook and place it with all his other books neatly in the little nook of the desk and finish tidying things up. After another hour, his room was back in livable shape. I smile and beam with pride at my handiwork and hope this helps him feel a little more at peace in his own living space.

Just as he was headed downstairs, a knock on the door echoed through the quiet home. When the door opened, I was startled to see myself standing before me, forgetting for a brief moment that I wasn’t in my own body.

“Fucking hell Q, you could’ve at least texted.” I had a hand over my chest as my heart rate begins to subside from the mild scare of seeing myself standing before me. Q rolls his eyes and looks down and beams with jubilation to see the three cats prowling towards him.

“My babies!! Daddy’s home!!” He kneels down and gives a happy helping of pets and scratched to each one of them.

“So how’d lunch with Gatto go? Did he suspect anything?” Q picks up Brooklyn in his arms and cuddles her close and they both step into the house and seat themselves on the couch.

“Went fine. He did say that ‘you’ were acting strange today, he just said that i’ve been hanging out with Q too much. Little did he know that it was me!” He chuckles releasing Brooklyn from his arms and watches as she trots away. “How were things here? You seem fine with the cats since you’re not dead and none of them are missing.” I think back to the little notebook upstairs but try and play things cool as to not give anything away, he’ll talk to me when he’s ready. It’s not my place to pry at his emotions.

“Things were fine. I did tidy up your room though, just thought i’d help you out a bit. If and when we switch back, just ask if you need help finding anything.” I smile to him and he smiles back, it was a bashful smile and it made my heart melt. “Did you wanna order dinner or something?” I say into the silence of the living room.

“Well considering this technically is MY house, I say we eat my favorite pizza: a hot pepper pie from my favorite pizza joint. However, since you’re me, you’re gonna have to order.” I roll my eyes and open up my phone and see that Q has the pizza place’s number saved and on speed dial in his phone.

“Okay Q, c’mon dude you’re kidding me. Speed dial?” He gives a cheeky smile and shrugs his shoulders.

We order and eat the pizza and talk to each other about our experiences in the other’s body. Q got to experience the wonders of my sleep apnea, he told me how startled he was when he woke up with my mask on his face. I told him of how the cats wouldn’t leave me alone because they thought I was him, it got a hearty laugh out of him since he knows how uncomfortable they make me.

“Thanks for cleaning up my place Sal.” He says as we clean up our pizza mess.

“Yeah, it’s no problem. It’s hard to find time to keep things in line with our schedules, thought i’d help out a little.” He pauses for a moment and goes to play with his fingers and realizes he doesn’t have his usual ring to fidget with. He’s nervous and that was one of his tics, but I pretend not to notice and I wipe down the table.

“Sal, uuuuh... Weird question but did you clean my desk?” I know where he’s going with this.

“I did. Books in place, papers in stacks. Why?” I say innocently.

“There’s a... There’s a notebook... it’s for my therapist and stuff... sensitive info in there.” He’s sweating and his eyes are pleading that I don’t know anything. The guilt hits me harder than ever now, but I can’t do that to him, I don’t want to shatter that trust.

“I didn’t snoop around man, it’s none of my business and this is your space, I respect it even if i’m in your body.” His tensions seem to ease in that moment and his shoulders slumped to a relaxed position. I feel like crap lying to him like this, but if it means his comfort, then it’s a harmless white lie. I mentally make a promise that nothing I read would ever leave my memory, and that’s all it will ever remain to be: simple memories.

“Okay, thanks man. I’m gonna head back to your place and hope that when I wake up i’m surrounded by my cats and not a face full of apnea mask.” He jokes to me as he gathers his stuff to head back out.

“Make fun of my sleep apnea all you want, but now you know the pain I live with!” I joke with him as I let him out. We said good night to each other, and just like that I was left alone in the silence of Q’s home. It was late already so I figured I close this night out already and head to sleep.

I cleaned myself up and prepared for bed, slipping into a pair of pajama pants and brushing my teeth. I took one final look into the mirror hoping that when I woke up, I wouldn’t need a mirror to see his face. All I want tomorrow is to just give Q a hug as myself again.

I crawl into the sheet with the cats cuddled up against me. The cats have kind of grown on me today, dare I say that maybe I learned to love them a bit today. I close my eyes and shift around until I was in blissful rest.

When I woke up at last and opened my eyes, I saw as the husky rays of the sun shone through my window and the familiar hun of my sleep apnea machine filled my ears. I peel it off my face and rub off the sleepy sensation from my entire face. I lean over and grab my phone to see a text from Q waiting for me

We’re back in business baby!

Was all it read and I smiled to myself. I walked to the bathroom and was met with the delightful sight of my true reflection. It felt so good to be back in my own body, in my own house.

I head to the kitchen and fix myself up a griddled PB and J and sit at the table and eat with nothing but my thoughts to occupy me. Through that whole mess, I didn’t question the switch, I didn’t question why then. I only had one lingering question that seemed so insignificant:

What happened with Q and that lunch with Joe. I wonder if he found out some of my own sensitive information and didn’t say anything just like I had. Maybe one day I’ll be able to solve, but it just won’t be solved today.

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A/N: Just wanted to say I loved playing around with this idea so much, that soon i’m gonna write this segment from Q’s POV ♪( ´▽｀)

#brian quinn #sal vulcano #vulquinn #fluff #suki writes

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hopingforjustice · 3 years

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REAL NAME. Sugimoto Reimi.

SINGLE OR TAKEN. Single. Relationships may not last very long anyway, but Reimi is willing to give it a shot if she finds the right person.

ABILITIES OR POWERS. Typical of a ghost — intangibility, invisibility, flight, immunity. Electromagnetic interference, thermokinesis and telekinesis to some degree, whether in emotional distress or enough conscious effort. Use these skills only when necessary, prefer to do things the traditional way to feel a little more normal. Can see Stands and interact with them, besides suffering their effects.

EYE COLOUR. Light pink.

HAIR COLOUR. Light pink.

FAMILY MEMBERS. Father and mother, murdered the same night as her. Her father was a psychologist, easy-going and carefree, who lived and loved intensely. Her mother was a nurse, restrained and serious, with her feet firmly on the ground. 'Opposites attract' in its best definition. They met at the hospital where they worked and married shortly afterwards, Reimi was born a year and a half later. Morioh was the hometown of her father's parents, he wanted his children to be raised the same way he was. Paternal family was small, maternal family was distant — so it was just the three of them most of the time.

PETS. Arnold, a Labrador Retriever, a gift from her parents on her 11th birthday. Her best friend, faithful companion and partner in crime, both in life and in death. A dog person and loves them all, feeds and talks to stray animals whenever she can. Reimi has a way with cats too, more than she thinks, and loves other cute animals like rabbits and birds.

SOMETHING THEY DON’T LIKE. Injustice. Reimi isn’t passive in the face of an unfair situation, especially with others, even people she doesn't even know. Also has no tolerance for those who purposely impose this on others, even in small acts or seemingly harmless words. She does her best to restore peace and balance, sometimes unconsciously but always stubbornly, since she doesn't know when to stop.

HOBBIES/ACTIVITIES. Painting is her true vocation, dedicating herself to this activity since she was very young. Actually loves art in all its aspects, although her skill levels vary widely — drawing, singing, dancing, writing. A voracious reader, especially at night, since she can't sleep. Cooking for others, especially desserts. Going for walks, to explore local nature. Specifically during the time in the alley, people watching and stargazing, singing and telling stories to Arnold.

EVER HURT ANYONE BEFORE. Not intentionally, at least. Reimi treats feelings with delicacy and care, always opting for total honesty. Everything can be said or done, but not in a careless, inconsequential way. Tends to err by excess, sometimes to the point of doubting the ability of others to resilience and overcoming. Ends up projecting her own emotional insecurity onto others.

ANIMAL THAT REPRESENTS THEM. Labrador Retriever, just like Arnold!

WORST HABITS. A tendency to exaggerate, for better or for worse. More spoiled and stubborn than she would like to admit. Appreciates and looks for divergent opinions, but at the end of the day her way is the highway. Although Reimi doesn't take offense easily, her resentment is long-lasting.

ROLE MODELS. Her father, who dedicated his life to helping others, to love and be loved in the purest, most disinterested way. Reimi is very similar to him, both in behavior and actions, and considers him her hero to this day. A way to preserve his memory, passing on his knowledge and giving his advice to others. Despite everything, she knows that her father wasn’t perfect — so she tries not to make the same mistakes.

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. Pansexual, no preference. More used to dealing with boys, she isn't exactly shy around them. Feels awkward around girls, still afraid to confuse things.

THOUGHTS ON MARRIAGE/KIDS. Getting married, living in a big house, having a few dogs and two or three kids were among her dreams. Since this isn’t possible anymore, she can only experience these things through others. A hopeless romantic who tries to help the couples around her (a potential wingwoman?) and loves all the children as if they were her little siblings.

STYLE PREFERENCES. Anything comfortable and cute at the same time. Soft and warm colors most of the time, lots of dresses and skirts, lace and ribbons everywhere. She likes to be experimental at times, and isn’t shy about matching clothes with someone she likes. Reimi knows that her girlish, sometimes childish appearance can do more harm than good — but she doesn't care enough to change it.

APPROACH TO FRIENDSHIP. Always ready to make friends! Reimi is naturally affable and approachable, her inherent kindness works like a magnet. Extremely easy to fall into deep conversations with, the perfect companion for a little walk outside or a joint meal. Tends to be honest and open about personal stuff with everyone, even those not so close, which isn’t always well regarded. Over the years, talking about the bad part of her past becomes more and more easy, to the point of appearing to be less affected by it than she really is.

THOUGHTS ON PIE. Not her favorite, but Reimi likes pies! More bake than eat to be honest, especially apple or strawberry.

FAVOURITE DRINK. Rose tea, strawberry juice, milk coffee, it really depends on the day.

FAVOURITE PLACE TO SPEND TIME AT. Near the sea whenever possible. Anywhere as long as her friends are around. Good moments with her significant other dealing with domestic stuff in the kitchen or living room. Historical sites when out of Morioh. A place just for her, specifically a bedroom. An art studio in her wildest dreams.

SWIM IN THE LAKE OR IN THE OCEAN. Ocean! Her parents surprised her with a scuba diving experience on her 15th birthday because she loves the sea. It's one of her most cherished memories.

THEIR TYPE. Reimi has a soft spot for people honest with themselves, who act more with the heart than the brain despite the consequences. Someone who has emotions and isn’t afraid to show them, because for sure she doesn't think twice before doing this. They don't have to be the talkative type, she can keep the conversation going on her own very well, thanks — but it's essential that they are good listeners. Sensitivity about her condition is appreciated, but making her feel like just a normal girl again is even better.

CAMPING OR INDOORS. Not exactly camping, although she finds the experience fun. After so many years in the alley, Reimi just got used to being outdoors. Always on the move, enjoying nature as much as possible, mingling with the living on the streets to observe their habits and feel part of something real again. Loves to spend time indoors, but at any sign of sadness or boredom her first thought will always be to go for a walk.

tagged by. @umtplex

#( ✥ ghost stories. / headcanons. )#( i can't shut up to save my life huh. but that was fun )#( thanks eddie for always serving delicious food!! )#long post //

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flyswhumpcenter · 5 years

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Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card! (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled. I don’t have any request left, so feel free to send in suggestions for this card!).

["Android Girl" in the background intensifies]

I'll most likely sink with this ship, I'm afraid. I therefore makes it my task to bring the ship another sickfic, and even if it's kind of the same as before, it's still different in its own way I think. It's kind of OOC here, this much I'll admit, but I got carried away and couldn't stop. It's been a while since I've allowed myself to go wild and far, so this was a bundle of fun and I hope someone else appreciates it!

yeah boi it's another sylvgrid sickfic what ya gonna do 'bout dat

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Tastes Like Iron

Summary: There is a turning point in Sylvain's life and vision of the world around him. A point that just so happens to take place in the middle of a college corridor.

Fandom: Fire Emblem: Three Houses (Modern AU, pre-timeskip personalities) Ship: Ingrid/Sylvain (pre-relationship)

Wordcount: 2.8K words

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo

AO3 version available here.

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It’s early in the morning when Ingrid comes up to him, emerald eyes staring right into his soul. She looks angry at him (when isn’t she? She always seems to be angry at him for a reason or the other, this won’t change soon), footsteps heavy in the echoing corridors. It’s not a sight he hasn’t seen before, frankly: they’ve been like this since they were children, only their appearance and buildings around them changing over the time.

It’s a dynamic that feels comfortable, though, so Sylvain is starting to wonder if he isn’t feeling better with this company around. This is a real paradox in itself: who likes to get scolded?

He’s on his way to class when she bumps into him directly, as she always does to convey her words to him. She takes his scarf in her hand, gets his face nearer to hers (it’s kind of awkward, but he likes it), fury raging in her stare.

“Hello, Sylvain.”

Yet, her frowned eyebrows aren’t of anger, or at least, not as much as one would have thought would they not know Ingrid personally. However, Sylvain knows better than that, knows her better than he’d let on; and guesses this isn’t just going to be about skirt-chasing tendencies he’s trying to keep in check anyway.

Blame it on the butterflies.

“Oh, hi, Ing,” he tells her as he musters the best grin he can give her right now. “What’s up?”

He keeps a coughing fit in as not to prove the point she’ll inevitably present him with.

“Well, I’d like to know what’s up with you, that’s for sure.”

“I don’t see what you’re talking about,” that fit escapes from his throat anyway. A few passers-by stare at them, but Ingrid seem not to give a single damn about that, so he focuses back on her.

“This. You absolutely know what I’m referring to, Sylvain. Quit granting me for dumb.”

Well, what can he reply to that? She’s already had him figured out, as she’s always done. This is getting tough, but he’s always liked having a challenge, hasn’t he?

“What’s ‘this’, huh? I’m afraid I don’t understand!” But he coughs again and his head feels stuffed, heavy on his shoulders, and he can only hope he’s doing a decent job at hiding how it really is on the inside.

“Stop taking me for a fool.”

He may have known her since they were children, but that doesn’t prevent Ingrid from surprising him and play him like a fiddle. It’s something she has that people who have tried dating him for his heritage doesn’t have: honesty, frankness, an insight into who he is aside from his surname. There’s no point wallowing in that misery, because he knows where he’s going to end up anyway, and spending time with his childhood friend is worth more than what his family wants him to be.

And it’s because Ingrid has known him since she was a little girl that she does the thing nobody would have in the middle of a corridor like that: put the back of her hand on his forehead, keeping his weight in balance as her frown deepens. He’s spotted for sure.

“Have you still not seen a doctor, Sylvain?! Take your health more seriously than that, you’re going to infect everybody in the school!”

The way she says his name with heavy insistence, a manner unique to her shall he add, as if she was putting a seal on it to enforce her speech, hurts in a strange, agreeable way.

“I thought you’d be the kind to scold me for not attending class.”

“Urgh, don’t try and smooth-talk me out of this! Go back home before you get someone else sick!”

He shrugs.

“If you insist then…!”

Without a forewarning, his focus having shifted from retaining the cough in to sounding convincing in his, a fit breaks out in his throat, making its way outside, as he finally stumbles out of her grasp. His body falls forward, hands almost failing to catch him before he can entirely meet the floor. It hurts deeply and seemingly doesn’t stop, until he feels something in there wanting to exit.

Kneeling in the middle of a corridor, Ingrid’s hands wrapped around his chest, he puts a hand against his mouth as the trembles racking his chest push against his palm. The thing who wants out eventually does so, spilling between his fingers, and it doesn’t feel like harmless phlegm having formed because of the infection.

When the fit lets off, Sylvain glances at the contents of his hand, only to realize how deep he’s gone.

Red slips off from his fingers, some dripping onto the floor, and he suddenly feels much sicker than before. No injury has ever made him react this way.

He glances at Ingrid, panting, to notice her expression has changed from concern to horror. Her mouth is in a sort of awe as she gulps, her hands moving on their own to put his back against the wall while her stare doesn’t let go, eyes trying to search for an answer.

“This is it,” she says with a trembling voice trying to sound steady. “Sylvain, you’re seeing someone, even if you don’t want to.”

Yeah, he wasn’t going to go against that anyway.

Sounds and images alike grow distant, even Ingrid’s voice as she speaks into her phone with vigour and a sense of urgency, even the irritating noise of his own cough. He’s drenched in sweat, his hair sticking to his skin in front of his eyes, the shift in temperatures never letting go and biting harder every time. Pulling his knees against his chest, wrapping his arms around his lap, he’s waiting for the moment where the tempest will calm down and allow him to make a run for his life.

The tempest never soothes and, instead, Ingrid’s eyes try digging into his with a sense of desperation, the phone now gone and maybe not even calling anymore.

“Sylvain, can you hear me?!” She asks with her hands on his shoulders, slightly shaking him in the commotion.

He nods while in the midst of a coughing fit, that phlegm escaping again.

“Thank goodness…” She whispers to herself, before she changes gears entirely. “How the hell were you still standing…?!” She muses as she puts her hand on his forehead again. “It’s risen too… You’re the biggest of fools, Sylvain, do you know that?!”

“Was… aware of that by now…” He tries laughing, but it only comes out as forced. “Keep telling me that…”

“Then apply them, once and for all! Where do you think that brings you?! What the hell is going on in your head?!”

Ingrid looks aside before her glare comes back, eyes shimmering, and the world disappears behind her. Her voice echoes in the distance, yet so near him, anguish painted all over the picture he can make out of her with his tired eyes.

“Why do you always scare me so much, you jerk!”

His breath is stolen away, lungs locking for a solid moment before he can exhale again. The hands on his shoulders weaken.

“I’m tired of cleaning after your mess, skirt-chasing or not! Even if I tell you crystal-clear, even if I insist on having you finally behave properly, you never take anything seriously and I always have to be behind you so I don’t end up losing you in the long run”

Her finger brushes against his face, right under his mouth, and she shows him a red stain left on her skin.

“This, Sylvain. Do you see it? Do you even know how much hassle you’d avoid for yourself if, for once, you’d take things seriously? If you just listened, we wouldn’t be there!”

“W-well… It’s only my business, right…? I don’t know why you get so worked up for me… Is it because we’re friends…? Are you in love…?”

“Shut up! I don’t want to hear that dying voice of yours!”

“Oh c’mon, that’s kinda mean…”

“Healthy people don’t cough up blood, you fool! Stop talking about it as if that was just the cold it was two weeks ago!”

“Still… My business, not yours, Ing;” His flirtatious tone is nowhere to be seen.

“It’s my business too because I don’t want to lose you!”

Her voice breaks, a part of his heart follows.

“… I don’t want to lose someone again,” she mutters as her gaze lowers. “Especially not like that.”

The rest of his heart crumbles under the weight of the feelings it stores endlessly.

He musters what strength he somehow has left, brain almost entirely numbed by a fever blurring his sight and rendering his touch inaccurate, and pulls her against his chest, asking for no cue. There is a puddle of blood in the back of his throat, but he tries smiling if not just for her, and realizes in his daze just how much he’s fucked up.

“It’s not usual for you to lose your composure so much… Ing…” He whispers, the ring of classes beginning drowning in his swimming vision.

She doesn’t reply, her heart almost against his, their beats never matching.

“I’m sorry for worrying you so much, Ing…”

His consciousness is dimming as he sees dots appearing in front of his vision, but not having to retain spitting blood on her.

“Didn’t realize until now… that it mattered to someone…”

Everything disappears before him before he knows it.

When he eventually comes to, Sylvain is surprised he’s still actually part of the living world. It’s no better than being a corpse right now, considering his entire body stopped responding efficiently. There’s no distraction when his vision is mostly a black blur, so he has the time and peace of mind to think about how, yeah, this has been a fiasco and he can only blame himself for it. Not like he’s ever blamed anything but fate, the order of things, the world’s strange whims and himself. His business, not his, after all.

It should have only affected him, but then Ingrid burst into his secrecy, and the entire order of things got taken apart.

His eyelids are heavier than shields and barely open at first, but they eventually allow the light to enter his sight. It hurts at first, worsening the pounding headache settling under his skull’s surface, until he gets over it and observes the change in scenery: this isn’t the corridor where he last spoke to Ingrid. In fact, aside from similar neon lights, it feels different: the smell isn’t the same, the air isn’t the same and, if he glances with how little his neck can move, he can conclude that the furniture isn’t the corridor’s.

Not that it wasn’t a dead giveaway all along, considering he’s lying in an actual bed and not against a wall, and that there are familiar emerald eyes looking in his direction.

“I… Ing…?” His voice sounds worse than before, it’s like he’s still half-asleep.

“Sylvain,” she replies with a calm voice, her usual stern tone, and he can’t help but smile. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah…” He continues glancing around. “What’s this place…? I don’t recognize it…” He still has the urge to cough, even though it’s less violent than before. That’s a nice change of pace.

“The hospital. Don’t worry, you won’t be here for more than a day or two.”

“…makes sense.”

The silence following this is only short-lived, as Ingrid picks the ball back up merely moments after, just enough to allow him to cough a little more.

“You’re lucky your life wasn’t directly threatened by what’s festering inside your chest. I was surprised myself how fortunate you’ve been with this.”

“I wouldn’t exactly describe being sick… as lucky, Ing…”

“At least you’re recognizing you are, now. It’s progress, I suppose.”

“How can I deny it when I’m like this?”

“You can’t, and that’s a good thing.”

She doesn’t look as angry as she did before, but he can still tell she’s got a problem with something. Most likely him.

“Wait, you’re not in class…?”

“I’d like to officially inform you that you made the professor sick with your germs. Fortunately, he was prevented from making class by the collective efforts of Mercedes and the other professors. Which brings me to the point I wanted to discuss with you…”

Here it comes.

“Can this please serve you as a wake-up call, once and for all?”

Huh, that’s less painful than he expected it to be.

“Oh…”

He’s too tired to play pretend and too conscious of her feelings to pretend like he doesn’t know what she’s referring to. It’s been years since he’s started taking less and less things seriously, to the point his own future is something he’s not worried about for a long time, and he’s just realized how harmful this has always been. He’s something more than his heritage, this he now knows for sure, but this wasn’t the way to go.

This has never been the way to go around with this, and Ingrid has always been right; but he’s been too deaf to hear her until now.

“I finally see why you’ve been so insistent; or so I think…” He’s not sure of much anymore.

“To say that I had to see you cough up blood to hear you say that…” She sighs. “At least, I can hope this means I won’t always be to be behind you, right?”

“Yeah… Sorry for worrying you all the time, Ing…”

“You better be sorry!”

The small laugh she tries to contain is the cutest thing he’s heard in ages.

“Still… Thanks for always having my back. I don’t thank you nearly enough…”

He’s still weak, this much he can tell by how low and gravely his voice sounds, but he’s grateful and doesn’t want to close his eyes if it’s for her to vanish by the time he awakens.

This, in itself, reminds him of how much Glenn’s death had an impact on Ingrid back then; and he cannot help but hate a part of himself for failing to notice that before.

After all, if he wants to win her heart over, he has to take in account her feelings, right? It’s only normal, he has to work more on that.

“I have to say,” she continues leading their conversation, “you’ve made an effort, recently. I see you flirting with anything that moves less than usual.”

He blinks. He’s surprised, but she’s right: he’s been less preoccupied with girls, recently, but he didn’t think it was actually noticeable. Blame it on the butterflies again. Right now, they’re rampaging throughout his abdomen.

“I just wish you’d be more careful to your actions and yourself, that’s it. I won’t be there to keep you in check, one day, you know.”

“I know… That’s why I didn’t want you to worry, but I guess I couldn’t prevent that…”

He coughs again, the iron aftertaste never letting go, but never coming back either.

“How bold of you to assume you could stop a friend from worrying about you.”

He wishes they were more than friends, but he’s a coward and she’s too good for him. The irony: she’s the one girl he knows doesn’t hold an interest in him only for his bloodline, and yet she’ll never be more than his childhood friend because she knows him too much to accept dating him, even as a joke.

The red he sees creeping on her cheeks has to be a feverish delirium.

“Anyway, I hope this bronchitis will make for a good lesson,” she scolds him again.

“Yeah, same,” he replies as he looks back to the ceiling. He hopes the blushing he senses on his own face is hidden by the splotches of fever he could see in the mirror this morning.

His eyelids flutter without his consent, and he sees her less and less per second, having run out of strength to keep himself awake.

“I should let you rest at last,” she eventually says as she begins getting up, which is when he notices her hand leaving his. His skin feels cold again, hair on his arm rising underneath clothes he wasn’t wearing earlier today.

“But… Will you be there, when I’ll wake up…?”

His question, his façade slipping up and shattering to the ground in its fall, makes her stop in her stead and, instead of facing the door, she turns her head in his direction.

“I’ll try my best. I can’t always be behind you, right?”

“I get it… Have a nice day, Ing…”

“Goodnight, Sylvain,” she tells him as the door opens and closes.

It feels soothing to go back to sleep.

#bad things happen bingo #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem #ingrid brandl galatea #sylvain jose gautier #sylvgrid #sickfic #blood cw #bronchitis #light angst #pre-relationship #au: modern #au: college #bthb 2 #otp: never would and never have

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

sometimes a fantasy [is all you need] (branjie) -- frenchy

a/n: hi hello!! i’m frenchy, & this is my first fic on here, despite being a longtime reader!! i sent an ask addressing my inspiration to write a branjie get-back-together fic, where they are hiding their still existing feelings behind a pr stunt/their social media interactions & fall back together through these/acknowledge that it’s deeper than they are pretending. it seemed to interest quite a few people so here she is!! this can be read as a long one shot, but considering how much content they are providing us with, i may continue it?? maybe!

ps. this does not include all the things they’ve posted thus far, but i will definitely try to include most of what we’ve seen so far as references/plot points in future parts if i continue this! ! this takes place while the show is airing, beginning action-wise after episode 4’s airing. it heavily involves the video with branjie that nina west posted on her instagram a few days ago! also, i am not giving into the assumption that they are actually broken up, but in the context of this fic, those rumors are true! okay that is enough, i am super excited about this, i hope you all enjoy ahhh!! <3

@Bhytes1: Hey Papi

@VanessaVanjie: @Bhytes1 What

*****

It had begun innocently enough.

Or, at least, that’s what the both of them would claim if ever asked about it. A tweet or two there, a cryptic emoji-strung comment here, and a handful of tooth-rotting gif interactions. It was almost rare for a day to pass without at least once mentioning of each other through social media, whether direct or not.

Brooke Lynn recognized the necessity for this. They both did. That’s why they were doing it.

They hadn’t necessarily discussed the inevitability of fans indulging in their on-screen romance, but there was an unspoken agreement between them, as well as with their fellow RuGirls. No one would bring up their current relationship status, and all would remain playful – that’s how fanservice worked, after all. Give the fans what they wanted, to ensure they would stay in tow. It reaped many a benefit not only for the show’s ratings, but for the queens involved. The season was only a few episodes deep, and already the interest in Brooke Lynn and Vanessa had spiked – both as a duo, and as individual performers. Brooke liked to believe it was her own doing that attracted so many new fans at such an early stage, though she had to give some credit to her more widely known castmate.

Still, as harmless as it posed to be, it didn’t take long for them to be accused of insincerity. A dozen tweets couldn’t change the fact that they were no longer together, that their relationship had ended before the season had even begun airing. They knew it, their fellow queens knew it – hell, half the fans knew it, even if they had not disclosed it officially. The fandom they found themselves thrust into wasn’t one unknown for spreading gossip and spoilers. The breakup had gone smoothly for the most part, at least when concerned with the public eye. It had been a quick discussion, albeit a tense one: was it smart to remain together when their lives were about to be changed? The two of them were self-aware and smart enough to recognize that their personal growth required separation. That the glorification of their growing relationship on TV would only put a strain on what they had in the present. Neither of them wanted to risk the prospect of resentment.

But they were being proven wrong, day by day. They talked and responded to each other every day, typically without any push from outside sources. They found themselves going from simply answering questions about each other and acknowledging fan reactions, to seeking out each other, interacting with no prompting. It was for the fans, yes, but Brooke never sensed any tension between the two of them. Maybe she was misinterpreting, but she and Vanessa seemed to do the whole “indulging the fans” thing flawlessly. Wishful thinking, perhaps.

And that’s what led them to where they were tonight, in a small office at REBAR Chelsea, too many people for too small a room. The music was almost deafening outside the walls, but was no match for the voices in said room. Specifically, Vanessa. Loud, brazen Vanessa Vanjie Mateo, in a glittery upside-down jersey dress, off her shoulders, her makeup freshly set and her adrenaline pumping even before having stepped out onstage for the night. She had been meticulously placing her blonde wig on her head in the mirror, making an effort to chime in more-than-occasionally to the conversation Nina West found herself deep in with a friend, despite being across the room. Brooke opted to sit in the corner, scrolling through her phone, Vanessa being the sole one of the three of them in drag for the night.

“More than iconic, really. The fans love it,” Nina’s friend had said, prompting Brooke to glance towards them. She hadn’t been paying attention to what was being said, though the mention of fans always peaked her interest. “Definitely need a recreation of that iconic moment at the reunion.”

“Iconic moment?” Brooke asked through a growing smile, interrupting, causing heads to turn towards the new voice contributing to the conversation. Nina laughed, with a hint of hesitation, turning her body fully to face Brooke, still sat in the corner of the seemingly-shrinking room.

She nodded enthusiastically, eyebrows up. “Untucked. Y’know how funny everyone found my reaction to you and Vanessa?” Nina clarified, gesturing towards the mentioned queen, who glanced at them through the reflection of the body-length mirror, still messing with her wig.

Brooke made a noise of understanding. “They live for their memes, bitch,” she answered. Naturally, she had seen the uproar that the last Untucked had caused, specifically when concerned with Nina’s shock towards the kiss. Brooke heard Vanessa laugh under her breath, accompanied by a curt nod signifying her agreement to Brooke’s statement.

“It’s crazy,” Nina nodded as well, proceeding to take a sip from the glass of water she held tightly in her right hand. She was halfway through swallowing when her eyes widened, an excited yet smug smile bringing the conversation back from its natural pause. “Why wait for the reunion? I mean, like, it’s fresh right now! Imagine how funny a recreation would be if we made it right now. We’re all here, aren’t we?” She nodded towards Vanessa before looking back to Brooke.

“So, milk it?”

“You and Vanjie should be pros at that with how you’re playing off this ‘on screen romance’ stuff,” Nina raised her free hand to provide seemingly unnecessary air quotes. Brooke scoffed gently. The romance was real, the follow up was not. It wasn’t, none of the tweets or interactions held any merit. But Brooke almost felt a personal offense at the implication that what they had before was fake, even if she had just misunderstood and Nina didn’t mean it that way. It shouldn’t have bothered her as much as it did. “It’ll fare well for the two of you, and it’s all good fun. What’s the consensus?”

There was a moment of tentative silence, a sudden hush. It was unusual for Vanessa to not be bouncing off the walls, her adrenaline from before nowhere to be found. Brooke looked over at her, making quick eye contact with her through the mirror. Vanessa raised a painted eyebrow at her, as if asking – no, suggesting, that it could be a good idea. It wouldn’t hurt. Right?

“Could be funny,” Brooke answered for the two of them, her smile returning.

Nina nodded, handing her phone to the woman at her side. “Let’s do it!” She straightened her denim jacket, water still in her hand, posing as a makeshift cocktail. Brooke stood from her seat, clearing her throat and watching as Vanessa finally turned her back to the mirror and faced the rest of them, a smile now adorned and her reluctance from before vanishing at the sight of a camera. The sight brought a certain weakness to Brooke, if only for a moment, just as it had every time she saw that smile. There was nothing different in how Vanessa made her feel still, she could appreciate things like that about her even if they weren’t an item.

“So, what, just kiss? Like in the Untucked?” Brooke made an effort to look away from Vanessa, but it felt like the reluctance Vanjie held was instead transferred to her. It was the same loss of focus she became familiar with during drag race, where even the just the knowledge of Vanessa being in the same room was enough of a distraction. She never complained, though.

“Yeah. Just like in the Untucked,” Nina kept herself at a distance from the other two queens, her body facing the now three people with phone cameras posed at them, others in the room joining in to capture the moment.

Vanessa again quirked an eyebrow at Brooke, who felt herself get uncharacteristically nervous. Why was she nervous? She hoped no one clocked her uneasy breathing, or heard her heartbeat as loudly as she did. She considered herself a good actress, but it was easier being playful and coy through twitter – how does one kiss their ex on camera, casually enough to make it look natural and real, but not too comfortable as to earn speculation from Vanessa herself, who clearly had no problem playing this up in front of the camera. It was certainly a tricky situation they were in. She wondered for a moment if Vanessa was struggling in the same way.

Brooke made a mental note to bring it up someday.

She wondered how long she stood spacing out, due to Vanessa no longer regarding her and instead living her directing fantasy. “You gotta start, like they did – like they did when we did this, you gotta say action,” she was instructing those who were filming, gesturing wildly.

“Ready? Yeah,” the woman nodded along, halfheartedly taking in Vanjie’s words, already having pressed the record button. “Okay ready?”

“Do it now,” Vanessa told her, and Brooke registered the deep breath that Vanessa took moments before they were to kiss.

“Action. Action.”

It was a blur after that – perhaps not in the moment, as she was conscious enough to chime in with a comically over-exaggerated “Did ya’ll see that?” after Nina and Vanessa both quoted it themselves. But when Brooke thought back to the video that ended up attracting attention on Nina’s Instagram later that night, she hardly could recall the details. It was foggy, most of it. Excluding the kiss.

Was she right in calling it a kiss? It was hardly that. A quick peck, reminiscent of the one they were recreating, not even enough for Vanessa’s lipstick to transfer onto Brooke’s unpainted lips. Not even enough to Brooke to over-analyze. Or so she thought.

Nina retrieved her phone as soon as they had finished the reenactment, smiling to herself as she hit play to watch the video. Vanessa quickly joined her to watch it, her smile losing its sincerity as they watched. Brooke remained across the room, attempting to gauge their reactions under the guise of gathering her own bearings, picking her own phone back up from where she had been sitting.

“S’it good? Convincing, too?” Brooke asked after the video had ended, the unasked ‘Too convincing?’ threatening to spill from her lips. She noticed that while Nina appeared overjoyed at the video, laughing to herself and pocketing her phone, Vanessa’s expression offered an air of concern. The look of trouble alone revived Brooke’s anxiety.

“Yeah, no, it’s good. Really good, thanks, guys,” Nina addressed both the ex-couple and those who had recorded the video, each from different angles, though only one would end up on the Ohioan’s Instagram. “I’m going to head out there, good luck up there tonight, girl,” Nina nudged Vanessa, who only gave a halfhearted smile and a quiet ‘Thanks’ in response.

Nina turned to leave, the others all following her, leaving after them a tension that filled the room. The room that only Vanessa and Brooke were left in.

“Hm,” Vanessa returned to her place in front of the mirror, lost in thought and not acknowledging that she wasn’t alone. Brooke sat back down, one hand occupied by her phone and the other fidgeting with the hem of her black blazer. Maybe she was overestimating how long and uncomfortable the silence felt, but Brooke wasn’t so sure it was that crazy of an exaggeration.

“Definitely should help fuel that fire,” Brooke spoke up, choosing to entertain the prospect of discussing the kiss rather than sitting in that loud silence. Vanessa didn’t stop touching up her makeup in the mirror to look at Brooke, just nodded. “Maybe we could post a picture together at some point soon. Is that too much?” Brooke laughed, not sure if her laugh was directed at her own question or Vanjie’s lack of an answer.

After another extended silence, Vanessa suddenly turned around to grab her own phone off the small table in the center of the room. “Let’s do it.”

Brooke was taken aback, needing a second to readjust to Vanessa’s usual volume returning after having been quiet in thought for so long. She watched as Vanessa snapped her fingers expectedly, waiting for Brooke to stand up, plausibly for a selfie.

“What, right now? We can’t post it right now, girl.”

“And why not?” Vanessa countered, her free hand going to her hip. “If we gonna do this, we have to keep feeding the children. We can’t let them go hungry,” she attempted to lighten up the tension in the room that had been there ever since Nina and the others left.

Brooke chuckled deeply, shaking her head. “Not after that video. Give it a week, maybe.” She hoped Vanessa would understand where she was coming from and drop it. She had thought they shared that logic in this situation, in the faux flirting and how it worked PR wise. It was bad to over-saturate this.

“Hmm,” Vanessa repeated from before, evidently unconvinced. She dropped her phone back, heading towards the door. Brooke felt relief ease her anxiety, focusing back on her own phone.

She didn’t even notice that Vanessa had paused in the doorway, looking over her shoulder back at the man out of drag.

“That’s mighty shady of you, Miss Brooke,” the graveness in her voice forced Brooke to look up, making sincere eye contact for the first time that night. “Reeaaaaalll shady.” Vanessa’s tone held a certain hesitance, a caution. She was unique in that way, in the way that she carried herself in private compared to in the public eye. While most minded themselves and grew wary when being watched, in regards to what they say, how they act – she was the opposite. Upon the chaos of the Werk Room, the need to be recognized on national television, Vanessa tended to surrender her control. She was brash, and loud, and unapologetic; she was likable for this.

That wasn’t the Vanessa that stood now before Brooke in the stuffy room.

Brooke raised a single eyebrow, unsure if her growing smirk was welcome. Unsure of whether this was a real dig, or a classic shady Vanjie joke.

“Shady? And, what? You’re innocent in this?”

No longer looking over her shoulder, Vanessa turned fully to face Brooke, her back to the hall. Brooke noted the way her eyes subtly narrowed under her four pairs of stacked lashes, her head cocking with a void of amusement. She didn’t answer or play off of Brooke as she normally would have if this was a lighthearted exchange, instead opting to stay quiet, as if observing Brooke, sizing her up. Her painted eyebrows furrowed with the narrowing of her eyes, though her concentration felt deeper than her simply fabricating another shady comment to hit back with. If she wanted to, she would have already thrown it – she was quick witted enough to bypass usual brainstorming.

When Vanessa cracked a weak smile (albeit it didn’t reach her eyes), Brooke let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“I never said I was innocent. In any meaning of the word. We both know that,” Vanessa took a step forward, back into the room, her voice knocked down a few volumes, for Brooke to hear only. “Even the fans know that, with some of the things we’ve been tweetin’ and sayin’. Whether they’re real or not,” she added, shrugging.

“They’re not,” Brooke challenged, saying matter-of-factly.

“See, that!” Vanessa laughed, pointing to Brooke. “You betta stop! Stop that, bitch.”

Confused, Brooke glanced Vanessa up and down. “What? Stop what?” She wished she could claim naivety. She knew exactly what Vanessa was saying.

Instead of answering her, Vanessa once again stood before her, looking down at her – not much, as even with Brooke seated and Vanessa in heels, the height difference made it so that they weren’t at an unusually unfair playing field now. She waited for an instant, to see if Brooke would say something. When she didn’t, Vanessa crossed over to sit in the empty chair beside her. Brooke didn’t ask if she sat so close to the edge intentionally, to be as close as possible to the Canadian queen.

That tense psychic feeling was back, but it felt different this time. She just couldn’t point to what changed. Was the whole room engulfed by this feeling, or just the few inches between the two? Regardless, Brooke felt her stomach knot, and had to stop her leg from bouncing in the space between them. If only Vanessa would get to the point. The point Brooke already knew she was making.

“Y’know, Brooke Lynn,” Vanessa drew out her words, in a sort of emphatic yet teasing manner, it being uncommon for her to use the second part of Brooke’s drag name unless addressing her by full name. Her gaze dropped, and Brooke instinctively followed it – they both watched as Vanessa’s right hand moved to draw mindless patterns on Brooke’s pant leg, right above the knee. If it weren’t for how close Vanessa’s voice was when she spoke, Brooke could have easily hyper focused on the way Vanessa’s hand traced gently up and down. “At some point we have to quit pretending like this is only for the fans.”

“We talked about this,” Brooke kept her voice solid, despite the way Vanessa dropped her’s to just barely above a whisper. They both looked back up at the same time, although neither one backed off. Brooke could have sworn they were closer than they had been before Vanjie had taken her seat.

“Really?” Vanessa frowned, puzzled. There was a cloud of doubt in her eyes. “Musta been out of it ‘cause I can’t seem to remember us doing that. I think you’re mistaken, Miss Brooke.”

Brooke swallowed, shaking her head weakly, and tried to look away. She trained her eyes to a bulletin board on the wall. She had more than enough time to push the other queen away, or scoot back, or even get up.

She stayed where she was, could feel Vanessa’s eyes on her.

When she realized Brooke was adamant on not entertaining the conversation, Vanessa continued. “So. Tell me, then… What you’re tryna say is that if I were to kiss you right now, with no one around to see it, you’d pull out a camera to take a picture of it? You’d tweet about it? It wouldn’t feel real to you, at all?” She knew what she was doing, she could tell Brooke was trying her hardest not to look at her.

Until she did, her eyes making contact with Vanessa’s again, mere centimeters from her face. “Is that hypothetical?” Brooke’s voice entered into a whisper. She made the mistake of glancing down towards Vanessa’s coated lips. She wasn’t fast enough in fixing her error, as Vanessa had already noticed and consequently did the same, a smirk playing at her lips.

“It don’t gotta be. That one’s up to you,” Vanessa breathed, yet the way she inched impossibly closer said otherwise.

“I–”

Before Brooke could allow the anticipation to drive her crazy, Vanessa’s lips were on her’s.

It was nothing like the kisses they shared on camera, neither drag race or the peck for Nina’s video. It was only the two of them, no pressure or expectation forcing them to maneuver with any caution. The kiss all too similar to the ones they would share after finally finding privacy in between filming, after not having seen each other for a week due to gigs, after spending the weekend together and waking up clinging to each other in the morning. It was all familiarity and comfort, butterflies and giddiness, as their lips moved in a passionate fervor. They didn’t think about posing, or the door to the room being wide open, or mixing nonchalance with playfulness.

Brooke had just released the tension in her body, the reluctance she feigned, when Vanessa broke the kiss.

“Mm?” Brooke blinked, fog passing slowly.

Vanessa moved away from her with a coquettish wink, flipping her wig dramatically over her shoulder that said wig didn’t even reach. “I got a show to do.”

That little fucker, Brooke huffed a laugh with an incredulous shake to her head.

“Maybe a reenactment later?” Vanessa paused again at the door, “Good luck tweetin’ unsuspiciously about that one and not bein’ urged to give me a private phone call after.” And with that, Vanessa vanished around the corner, Brooke not seeing the bashful smile she wore all the way to the stage. And she didn’t know that Brooke wore one to match.

*****

That night, the first thing Brooke saw upon opening Instagram was that damn video. As well as all the reposts and screenshots she had accordingly been tagged in. She prepared herself before playing it, not having seen it yet.

Stopping herself from smiling was out of the question as she watched the fifteen second clip. She watched it more than once, not breaking the natural loop it made whenever it ended.

And if she texted Nina later to send her the video, simply to rewatch the way Vanessa smiled into their kiss, well, she wouldn’t bring that part up.

*****

@Bhytes1: Because everyone loves a dramatic re-enactment

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #fluff #angst #frenchy #submission #canon compliant #s11 #sometimes a fantasy

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lawfulpride · 4 years

Text

Davos and the Doctor

Synopsis: After breaking out of prison with the assistance of Thor Odinson, Davos runs into a certain Time Lord.

Davos played by @lawfulpride The Thirteenth Doctor played by @mostincrediblechange

supremedumbass™Thursday at 7:00 PM

(I know legit nothing about Iron Fist except that Davos deserved it and the main character sux, so I will do my best.) "I don't think so!!" The Doctor skids 'round the corner with a mad laugh, chasing a creature that might have been a dog, if dogs had six eyes and were green. It was clear that she was enjoying the chase, and the creature was, too. "C'mere boy!" she called, waving a slimy tentacle-thing towards the- for lack of a better term- dog. "Got a nice yummy... uh... treat for you! Come one! We gotta get you back to the TARDIS before someone sees!" The creature let out a bark that sounded rather like a guinea pig squeak before bounding towards- and past- the Doctor, directly towards a man she had somehow overlooked before hidden in the shadows. "Hello! Don't mind us," she laughs nervously. "Had a bit of trouble with the leash. Acid spit and all. But he's harmless."

Hopeful Thursday at 7:10 PM

The man before whom the Doctor and her pet come a clambering halt is the embodiment of humorless intensity. He's dark, short, and slender, built like a rock, wearing too-large clothes that seem oddly counterfeit given his regal, rigid posture and immaculately groomed features.

"What is that abomination?" he demands, without preamble.

supremedumbass™Thursday at 7:17 PM

She scurries over to the creature as he begins to sniff at the stranger's shoes. The Doctor looks up at him with an awkward smile and wraps her arms around the thing before his slobber eats away at the fabric. "He's a Gorlok. Kind of cute once you get past the eyes. And the smell. Incredibly loyal, though. Fantastic trackers. This guy got stranded on Earth and I've been trying to get him back to his owner." She stands and sticks out her hand to shake. "I'm the Doctor. Know you didn't exactly mean to, but if you hadn't been here I'd probably have to chase him down another few blocks!"

HopefulThursday at 7:35 PM

Davos continues to glower at the strange female, expressionlessly; the only tell that he is still young, in his thirties at best, is the enormity of his brown, long-lashed eyes.

Those eyes dart to the smelly creature at his feet. He considers kicking it, but is waylaid when the woman offers her hand in a peaceable gesture. "You hail from another dimension?"

Thankfully for the Doctor, Davos is no stranger to spatio-temporal anomalies. The only difference is, he sees them not as scientific, but rather, mystical, and religious, phenomena.

"I am called Davos." But he doesn't shake her hand. He only stares at it with suspicion.

supremedumbass™Thursday at 7:40 PM

The Doctor grins at him and lowers her hand, looping a leash around the creature's neck. He sits obediently, wagging all three tails at once. "Another dimension? You could say that, I suppose. Definitely not from around here, but I get the sneaking suspicion neither are you. I'm from a different planet. A different time. I'm a traveler, really." She rocks on the balls of her feet with a smirk, watching him curiously. "And where do you hail from, Mr. Davos? You look a bit out of place."

HopefulThursday at 7:43 PM

"My home is gone. I don't know where. I left it to clean up the mess of another. And still ended up with nothing while he....."

This is all he says. He turns away and draws a deep breath to still himself. He only ever raises his voice or his hand to a woman who is also trained in combat. " . . . . . I don't concede my secrets to strangers." He frankly wonders why he's already said so much to this one. "Especially nameless ones."

supremedumbass™Thursday at 7:47 PM

"Nameless? That's a bit rude," she pouted. "I'm the Doctor, that's my name." She frowns a little, sympathetic to someone who's lost their home. He seems to be struggling, and she can relate to that. Her voice softens a bit and she ducks her head to try to catch his eye. "I lost my home, too. Someone I cared about destroyed it. I know how it feels to be left alone, seemingly with nothing. Do you need help, Davos? That's kind of what I do. Help people, when I can."

HopefulThursday at 7:48 PM

"I AM the help. I am a weapon. I defend. I need nothing else."

" . . . . however. Those who offer a hand in kindness are just. Compassion is a liability to a weapon. But not to those it protects. It would be my honor to have you in the kingdom I seek to create, Doctor."

supremedumbass™Thursday at 7:52 PM

"Well..." She quirks a brow at him, almost amused. She's met stranger aliens, but he's human, as far as she can tell. And yet he's very odd. She kind of likes it. "You yourself said your home was gone. If you're trying to get it back... Even I need help sometimes, and I'm dead clever. Maybe it would help if you tell me about this kingdom? Hm? I'm mad curious, and well, once you get me curious I'm hard to get rid of."

HopefulThursday at 7:54 PM

" . . .walk with me." And he proceeds in the direction from which she came: just as curious, and just as eager to collect data on a potential adversary. "I hail from K'unlun, an undying city whose outer gate is accessed in Tibet. I was one of the warriors trained for life to guard that gate, at the mouth of a mountain pass. It came down to me, and to my brother."

He pauses there, features visibly strained with a simmering anger. "And you? You are a healer?"

supremedumbass™Thursday at 8:13 PM

"Oh, Tibet! Loov Tibet! Best noodles I ever had. Never heard of K'unlun, though. But somehow I get the idea it's not exactly a tourist attraction, hm?" She grins up at him after her joke, but somehow doesn't expect it to land. The Doctor watches that anger bubble just below the surface. "Let me guess. Your brother was the one who's mess you came to clean up?" she asked sympathetically. "A healer? Yeah, I s'pose you could say that. Among other things. Healer, scientist, inventor, etcetera etcetera. How'd you end up here?"

HopefulYesterday at 12:45 PM

Best noodles.

Davos's whole face wrinkles. This woman reminds him of Claire Temple: the last healer whom he knew, a friend to his brother Danny, and to that whore from the Hand who turned Danny fully against him. But despite her dubious allegiances, Claire had been just as kind and bright-souled.

She had even gotten him to consume a slice of pizza. It was chewy. But it wasn't quite so poisonous as he'd suspected. "Excessive chatter is a vexation to the spirit," he comments reluctantly. But he doesn't move away from her.

"You are skilled at deflecting questions," he further comments, making no note of her accurate assessment of his situation.

supremedumbass™Yesterday at 1:39 PM

"So are you," she grins at him. He's not much taller than her, but he is broad, and she feels rather small at his side. "Strong, silent type, I get it. Used to be the same myself, a few lifetimes back." The Doctor eyes him. Despite her cheerful demeanor, she can tell that Davos is deeply unhappy. More than that, he's angry, and angry, unhappy people can be dangerous if they're pushed the wrong direction. "You say you came here to clean up your brother's mess? Have you managed it? Or is it something I might be able to assist with? Believe it or not, I'm really very clever. I might be more help than you think."

HopefulYesterday at 3:35 PM

As he walks, with haste and drive, forgetting the purpose of walking with her--to collect intel--his lips loosen. "It's a nonissue. I took from him a power he was far too irresponsible to wield, but he stole it a second time, and gave it to his lover. A woman who long belonged to a terrorist organization called the Hand, an abominable body of deceivers who turned children into weapons in the name of 'cleansing' society. Those whom I serve are the true healers of this world and its cancers. I have been deprived of my birthright at every turn, and I very much doubt one eccentric woman from another dimension could fix that."

She calls him strong and silent; it's not the first time he's been teased for his serious nature. It always slides off him like water droplets off oily feathers. This time it spreads an odd warmth in the pit of him.

He stops and turns to face her; pleasure. Pleasure is dangerous. Pleasure is self-indulgence. Indulgence does not come into the equation of a warrior, or a weapon. "For all I know, you could be an operative of theirs, come to monitor me in my hour of liberation. Come to stop me, since I escaped prison."

He advances on her quickly then, with an expression of dangerous but carefully lidded rage.

supremedumbass™Yesterday at 4:23 PM

Funnily enough, she doesn't say it to tease him about his stoic nature. She finds it rather grounding. But The Doctor's brows furrow, a little line forming between them as he talks about this group called The Hand. People who turn children in to weapons. 'Cleansing' society. The idea makes her gut churn with disgust. "You'd be surprised what I'm capable of," she says rather darkly, her smile slipping from her face. Instantly, the Doctor knows whose side she's on as she contemplates some way to learn more about the Hand. She's too caught up in her own thoughts to notice the shift in his mood, and by the time she does, he's upon her. The Doctor is struck again with how much bigger he is, despite being barely an inch taller than she is. "Don't you think if I was an operative of this Hand group I'd have made some move to stop you?" she replied stiffly, her eyes narrowing at him. "Why would I offer to help you? I protect this planet from people and groups exactly like the one you're describing. Hurting kids? Turning them into weapons? No, I don't think so." She is all too familiar with children being used as pawns for the ambitions of people who are meant to be their protectors.

HopefulYesterday at 6:10 PM

He balks. A storm is kicking up but he scarcely notices.

"I think that if you're saying THAT, it's more proof you're not Hand than anything else, because you've clearly got no idea how low they can stoop. And how good they are at lying." He raises from his fighting crouch, a rather eloquent pose that twists his arms and wrists and renders one combative unit of his whole beautifully poised body. It begins to rain. They're both soaked in minutes. He doesn't even notice. He doesn't even blink as the droplets roll off his close-shaven head and long eyelashes.

"What will you offer me, if I agree to go where you lodge?"

supremedumbass™Yesterday at 6:15 PM

Davos steps back and the Doctor straightens, her expression still a little sour. "I've known people like that my whole life, and believe me when I say that's a very long time. I'm not much for violence, but... I can make exceptions." She isn't overly concerned about the rain, but pulls up her hood, though it doesn't do much good in the torrential rain. "A bed to rest, for one. But I can help you find whoever it is you're looking for. I have a ship. I can travel anywhere, might be able to track down the Hand and help you stop them."

HopefulYesterday at 6:23 PM

" . . . . . " He's clearly weighing his options. His attire is, literally, a paper-thin, too-big hoodie, and blue, sopping hospital scrub pants. And no shoes. Normally, while abroad outside the sanctum of K'unlun, Davos wears sharp-tailored, austere black business suits. And smells like very rare, very expensive incense.

To call him unusually unkempt, unusually desperate, in this moment, is an understatement. "They've been disbanded. Their leaders scattered. Some dead. I am a warrior without an honor code, or a people, to protect." He's trying to remain calm, but there are very protrusive veins in the center of his forehead and his neck. "I am directionless." He grinds his jaw. "I have nothing. Nothing but my principles. Principles everyone living but me has abandoned."

supremedumbass™Yesterday at 6:33 PM

The Doctor steps forward, almost timidly, as if he's a skiddish creature that might flee if she gets too close. "Then perhaps it's time to regroup. Time to take a little time to find yourself again." She knows only too well what it feels like to lose oneself. To feel alone in the universe. "I said my ship can travel anywhere, but it can also travel in time. You can recover without having to worry about taking too long." She offers him a small smile. "It's an open offer, one you don't have to accept. But I know what it's like to feel directionless."

HopefulYesterday at 6:42 PM

"I've had one purpose in life since birth."

Now the water's cascading off his shoulders and chin.

But he notices she's eve more soaked. "I'll stay for a night. One night. If you would lend me clothes, I would be obliged."

supremedumbass™Yesterday at 6:46 PM

"I might even let you keep them, if you're nice," the Doctor teases, those hazel eyes glittering playfully. But she nods and begins walking again, this time around the corner and down a different alleyway. "One purpose since birth? To be a warrior? You said to be a weapon? Dunno about that, but a guardian and protector, I can understand."

HopefulYesterday at 6:46 PM

"...are they not the same thing?"

He's not being sarcastic. It's a genuine question. He follows her a little reluctantly.

supremedumbass™Yesterday at 6:49 PM

"The way I see it... A weapon is meant to hurt. There's no away around that. Even if it's hurting the bad guy it's still hurt. I think the universe has quite enough of that. But a guardian? A protector? That's someone made to love. To care for the thing he's protecting. I like to think I'm like that. Don't always do the best job, but this planet... Well, I help where I can."

HopefulYesterday at 6:53 PM

"This planet...I see." Davos doesn't comment upon the distinctions made, not at first. But then, wetting his lips with his tongue, he turns to her. Even his manner of movement is somehow uncompromisingly forthright. "I was always taught compassion was a form of weakness. Because it is good to turn upon one's friends, but when you turn it upon your enemies, it allows them the upper hand.

"You would have me show weakness, and then, does that not compromise the integrity of my protection?"

He pauses mid-philosophy, however, to glance around. "I don't understand, where is your home?"

supremedumbass™Yesterday at 6:59 PM

The Doctor glances at him, a slightly amused smile on her lips. "There's the flaw in your logic, Davos. Compassion isn't weakness. It's strength. It takes incredible strength to show compassion to an enemy someone you hate. Compassion has the power to change hearts and minds." She points to a blue police box at the end of the alleyway. "Right there. Can't believe you'd miss it, all lit up like a Christmas tree?" the Doctor teases as they approach. She opens the door and bows. "After you."

HopefulYesterday at 7:01 PM

"I CANNOT agree with that!" he snaps, raising his voice for the very first time since they've met. It's sudden and fiery and it's gone just as fast. I cannot contradict my dead mother, who could not tell me that she loved me. Who WOULD not. I still cannot turn against her, I STILL cannot. " . . . . I shouldn't have shouted, that. Was beneath my station. Forgive me." He glances at the police box. He steps up to it. He walks around it. He stares at her, mirthlessly, but the faintest wanness enters his tone when he speaks again. " . . . . It would be a rather snug fit."

supremedumbass™Yesterday at 7:05 PM

The Doctor is surprised by his outburst, only because he's been so stiff and soft-spoken until now. She raises her hands in a gesture of peace. "There's nothing wrong with disagreeing with someone," she muses. "No need for apologies." But she knows there's so much more to it than she can possibly glean from their short conversation. "Why don't you step inside. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised how spacious things can be with good decorating."

HopefulYesterday at 7:07 PM

"....a throw pillow will not change the dimensions of...." He steps into the TARDIS.

He stares around. "......your blue box is very deceitful."

"It is a warped dimension..a wormhole?" He turns to her, genuinely intrigued."It reminds me of home."[7:09 PM]K'unlun, accessed through a gateway, a kind of window into another dimension in the middle of a snowy mountain range. A similar trick of space and time.

".......except uglier. ...and what is that...smell."

supremedumbass™Yesterday at 7:11 PM

"No throw pillows," she replies, stepping in behind him. "But a little spacio-temporal displacement can work wonders." The Doctor grins and runs up to the console. "She's called the TARDIS. Bigger on the inside-- OI!" She folds her arms and looks quite offended. "Fine way to talk about the most powerful ship in the universe. One of a kind, she is. Show a little respect!"

HopefulYesterday at 7:22 PM

"The most what." He steps toward the console, still dripping. "I am skeptical." But that very small modest smile hasn't left his face.

supremedumbass™Yesterday at 7:25 PM

"Oh-KAY, Mr. Doubting Davos." She grins at the perfect alliteration. "I'll prove it! Time and place. Or planet! Where would you like to go? Anywhen and anywhere."

HopefulYesterday at 7:29 PM

"That's not my name." God, he's the most unintentionally comedic Straight Man ever to walk off paper. "And I want to change clothes before you continue to show off your odorous homestead."

supremedumbass™Yesterday at 7:33 PM

The Doctor puts her hands on her hips and sighs. "Up the stairs, fifth door on the left. Should be plenty of stuff that will fit you." She turns to the console, trying to hide the fact that she's sniffing around. Does it really smell? All she smells are custard creams.

HopefulYesterday at 7:33 PM

Davos simply nods, sharp and precise. He ascends the stairs as if it's a holy mission from the gods. He pivots at an exact 90 degree angle and finds the fifth door on the left. Inside is a massive wardrobe full of attire that would bleach the hair of the most stalwart warrior. Why is there celery on that suitcoat? Why is that scarf covered in rainbows? Why are there Converse in multiple colors? "This is absurd."

He wrinkles his nose in distaste. Nevertheless within ten minutes he settles on a combination of the most neutral colors he can find, which come from the Eleventh Doctor's wardrobe, minus, of course, that hideous bowtie. He returns to the Doctor's side with the same bemused expression. "Are you a shape-shifter? You have clothes for at least twelve other beings up there."

What is she, the bloody Monkey King????

supremedumbass™Yesterday at 7:42 PM

"Time Lord," she replies conversationally. While he was gone, she did a quick sweep of the console room and chucked some stale snack wrappers in the bin. A quick filter of the oxygen in the room has the TARDIS smelling... well. Maybe not fresh, but certainly not like a Frito-Lays factory. "I can regenerate. Change my form when I'm seriously injured. Good job on the count though. Thirteen others. Not twelve." The Doctor finally looks up and smiles. He actually looks rather handsome in her old clothes. "You clean up well. Decided where you want to go? Still determined to impress you."

HopefulYesterday at 7:57 PM

"....So do you," he comments, wryly, of the clean-up statement. He angles his head back, sharp-cut chin at an angle, and lofts one eyebrow. "Stronghold of Souhei Monks, Kamakura-Era Japan."

supremedumbass™Yesterday at 7:59 PM

The Doctor lofts a brow at him. "That's strangely specific. Most people I ask usually ask to go see the moon landing or something." That said, she doesn't deny his request, but begins typing in coordinates, her tongue stuck between her teeth as she works. "What's in Japan?" she asks curiously as she hops around the controls.

HopefulYesterday at 8:03 PM

"The founders of one of the most influential Buddhist schools of warrior monks in all the world." He rests his hands behind his back, remaining on his feet despite his exhaustion. He's still barefoot: it's a sign of respect within the household of one's host.

"If you wish to show me the moon landing, by all means, do so."

supremedumbass™Yesterday at 8:06 PM

"No, it's refreshing. I enjoy seeing new places! That's rather why I do this, after all." The Doctor flashes him a smile and sets the controls. "You might want to hang on to something. Ride gets a bit bumpy sometimes." The Doctor pulls the lever and the ship groans to life and they're off, hurtling through time and space!

#ic #mostincrediblechange #discord rp #your blue box is deceitful (The Doctor)

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daylilysirius · 5 years

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Arms Unfolding: Year One

A/N: here’s the first proper part, hope you enjoy! also, a couple of people asked to be tagged so I'll start a taglist for this series, if you want to be added let me know!

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin! Reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 1721

- MASTERLIST IN BIO -

Your first few months at Hogwarts had flown by. A flurry of flying lessons, potions classes and quidditch matches and before you knew it you were into a new term.

The Christmas holidays had been fairly uneventful for you. Your father’s side of the family were still giddy about the prestige that they thought you carrying on their Slytherin heritage brought them. A lot of your time was spent sat with your mother, who couldn’t care less about you all being part of the ‘Sacred Twenty-Eight’, giggling at your father as he sat trapped with his parents droning on about bloodlines as he kept shooting you both pleading, please come and help me looks. Your parents might have been purebloods, but to them that was nothing but a label. The other hot topic was you being in the same year as the youngest member of the Malfoy clan. Being part of such a wealthy and influential family put Draco at the top of the food chain so to speak, and your grandparents were eager to know as much about him as possible.

Thankfully your initial fluster around him had died down, although your mother still teased you about the little puppy crush you had written to her about, and you and Draco had fallen into a fairly easy friendship. You didn’t let him boss you around like he did his other little gang members, and although sometimes it caused some tension between the two of you, Draco was ultimately fond of your strong nature. You were prideful but kind-hearted in a way he had never experienced before.

However, not everyone was so fond of your passionate nature and it had taken you a while to settle in with the rest of your peers outside of your housemates. Hermione Granger, who you had first met on the train, took a liking to you fairly quickly however. After being paired up in charms class you realised you made quite a team, you had a lot in common considering your different backgrounds, and despite the fact that your similar personalities meant that you sometimes butted heads she was a sweet and supportive friend. So much in fact that she practically made it her duty to introduce you to everyone she knew and soon you were almost as close to Harry and Ron as she was.

Draco hadn’t taken kindly to your new friends. He still wasn’t over Harry snubbing him and, in his opinion, both Ron and Hermione were far inferior to the pair of you.

“I just don’t understand how you can stomach to be around her, being muggle-born and all.”

“Oh please, Draco, she’s harmless. And she’s nice, they all are.”

“They’re not Slytherins for a reason.”

You scoffed, “you’re such a snob, Draco Malfoy.”

He shrugged in response as you both descended down the stairs towards your common room.

“Are you really trying to tell me that the people you hang around with are any better? All your friends do is tease and push each other around.”

“They’re your friends too.” Draco said accusingly. You could tell he was trying to appear rational, but there was a slight bite to his voice, that defensive tone that only came out when you dared to challenge him.

You shook your head, “Crabbe and Goyle do nothing except follow you around like lost puppies, I don’t think they even notice if I’m there or not. Blaise is nice – when he wants to be. Pansy hates me.”

He shrugged again, as if that fact was neither here nor there, “I just don’t understand how your parents can be okay with it. You mixing with… people like that.”

You gave him a warning glance and he took the hint to stop talking before he dug himself an even bigger hole. You approached the door but Draco came to a halt.

“Aren’t you coming in?”

He shook his head.

“Why not?” It was already dark out and you had both been cutting it fine in regards to getting back before curfew.

“I’m going to see your friends.”

You sighed and moved back towards him, figuring out his evil masterplan in seconds. Ron had mentioned the trio’s plan to visit Hagrid after hours on their quest to find out more about the philosopher’s stone, and clearly Draco couldn’t miss an opportunity to antagonise.

“Why can’t you just leave them be?” You questioned. Their petty feud was already grating on you, you couldn’t understand why they didn’t see the good qualities in each other the way you did.

He flashed you a cheeky grin as he began to walk off, “Come with me if you’re so concerned.”

You huffed and stood in place, arms crossed across your chest as you watched him strut back the way you had just came.

No, you thought, I don’t want to get in trouble. I don’t want to go with him. I don’t… I don’t.

“Draco, wait up!” You called after him.

“This is all your fault.”

“Yes, Y/N, you’ve already mentioned that. Numerous times, in fact.” Draco retorted.

In a turn of events that was shocking to literally no one except the mastermind himself, Draco’s plan to rat out your friends had backfired spectacularly and had landed all of you in detention. You sighed dramatically as you trudged through the forest. Draco had already scared off Neville with his usual nonsense so now you were stuck between him and Harry as they bickered like an old married couple. You drowned them out as best you could, focusing solely on not tripping on the spiralling vines and tree trucks around you, and thinking about how much trouble you were going to be in with your parents when you came to a clearing. The view stopped all three of you dead in your tracks.

A unicorn lay dead. Its white fur standing out in stark contrast to the muddy greens of the plants. A cloaked figure hovered over it, drinking its blood and seemingly undisturbed by your arrival.

“What the hell…” You murmured.

Draco was quick to grab your arm and pull you back behind him, slowly edging you both away from whatever that was. You were both trembling and stumbling over each other but neither of you dared to let go. As soon as the mysterious creature looked up, baring its teeth, it was over for you both. He screamed as together you turned tail and ran as fast as you could, all the while Draco gripped tightly to your hand, until you were back at the forests opening. The both of you stood for a few seconds, chests heaving, until Draco realised you were back where you could be seen and he quickly dropped your hand and paced back slightly.

“Harry!” You gasped, your brain finally catching up with your body. You couldn’t leave him alone out there. Especially not with that thing. You lunged forward but Draco grabbed you before you could make your heroic dash.

“Get off me!” You shouted, “We can’t leave him!”

“I can’t let you go in there again!” He yelled back.

“I don’t care Draco, let go of me…” You trailed off as you kept trying to free yourself from Draco’s grasp but he was persistent. He kept a tight hold despite your flailing limbs, repeating that he wasn’t going to let you get hurt. The pair of you kept that up until Harry emerged with Hagrid, Neville, Hermione and Ron. Draco quickly released you and you lost your footing slightly before you ran to hug your friend. Draco stayed put, deadly quiet as he watched you fuss over Harry.

“Okay you lot,” Hagrid said nervously, “I think it’s best that you were all off to bed…”

Draco stayed a few feet in front of the rest of you as you trudged back to the castle, but you didn’t miss the way he would turn back and make sure you were still there every few minutes.

You and Draco never talked about the incident in the forest. You weren’t sure if it was out of fear or embarrassment but he didn’t mention it again after that night so neither did you. You focused your attention on your school work and staying out of trouble after a pretty harsh letter from your parents concerning you getting a detention.

The end of your first year came about quickly, but not before your Gryffindor pals could land themselves in some more trouble. Despite Dumbledore’s best efforts it quickly spread around the school that Professor Quirrell had been evil this entire time and Harry had fought him off single handed. Draco, of course, was less than impressed with all the attention Potter was getting and ranted to you even more than usual. Nevertheless, you arrived at the hospital wing with a box of chocolate cauldrons tucked under your arm and were greeted with a very grateful looking Harry.

You sat on the edge of his bed mulling over things that he had missed in lessons and reassuring him that yes, Ron and Hermione are fine, they’re just tired so you’re their temporary replacement.

“I didn’t realise that it would be such an issue, Mr Potter.” You smirked.

“It’s not!” His face reddened when he realised how rude his words had sounded, “It’s not, I just didn’t think you would be… allowed.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if you hadn’t noticed, Malfoy and I don’t exactly see eye to eye.” He said coyly.

You snorted, “Now there’s an understatement. But Draco isn’t the boss of me, thank you very much.”

“No, of course not.” Harry grinned, “I don’t understand how you can stand to be around him.”

“He says the same about you.”

“I bet he does.”

You sighed, shaking your head, “He’s really not that bad.”

Harry raised his eyebrows at you.

“I just mean… yeah, he can be a prat sometimes, but there’s more to him than meets the eye. He can be kind, he just doesn’t show it in traditional ways I guess. He can be a caring guy.”

Now it was Harry’s turn to snort, “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“You will, one day.” You gave a sweet smile. Harry chuckled softly before you both went back to gossiping and snacking on the various goodies he had been gifted.

S E R I E S T A G L I S T : @callie-bear15 @marvel-th @uirene

#Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy fic #draco fic #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy blurb #draco malfoy x reader #arms unfolding #draco imagine #hp fanfic

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cinemavariety · 5 years

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The Director’s Series: David Lynch

The director series will consist of me concentrating on the filmography of all my favorite directors. I will rank each of their films according to my personal taste. I hope this project will provide everyone with quality recommendations and insight into films that they might not have known about.

Today’s director in spotlight is David Lynch

#10 - Dune (1984) Runtime: 2 hr 17 min Aspect Ratio: 2.35 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

In the year 10,191, the world is at war for control of the desert planet Dune – the only place where the time-travel substance ‘Spice’ can be found. But when one leader gives up control, it’s only so he can stage a coup with some unsavory characters.

Verdict: Most directors who make enough films will always have a few misses. Dune is almost unwatchable with its convoluted storyline that will confuse anyone who hasn’t read the novel. I’ll give it this - the set and costume design are out of this world, no pun intended.

#9 - The Straight Story (1999) Runtime: 1 hr 52 min Aspect Ratio: 2.39 : 1 Film Format: 35 mm

A retired farmer and widower in his 70s, Alvin Straight learns one day that his distant brother Lyle has suffered a stroke and may not recover. Alvin is determined to make things right with Lyle while he still can, but his brother lives in Wisconsin, while Alvin is stuck in Iowa with no car and no driver’s license. Then he hits on the idea of making the trip on his old lawnmower, thus beginning a picturesque and at times deeply spiritual odyssey.

Verdict: The only one of Lynch’s films that could be considered purely “heartwarming”. It also feels the least like a Lynch film, with the director never really foraying into his autuerist territory. It is a simple, cute film that didn’t exactly leave much of an impression on me.

#8 - Lost Highway (1997) Runtime: 2 hr 14 min Aspect Ratio: 2.35 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

A tormented jazz musician finds himself lost in an enigmatic story involving murder, surveillance, gangsters, doppelgangers, and an impossible transformation inside a prison cell.

Verdict: Lost Highway has a few scenes that I find to be the most bone-chilling in Lynch’s oeuvre. However, I wish that the entirety of this film had the same effect on me. There are more than enough satisfying plot elements to this, but I also feel like Lynch utilizing a modern soundtrack more than Badalementi’s superb score really does make this film feel dated.

#7 - The Elephant Man (1980) Runtime: 2 hr 4 min Aspect Ratio: 2.35 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

A Victorian surgeon rescues a heavily disfigured man being mistreated by his “owner” as a side-show freak. Behind his monstrous façade, there is revealed a person of great intelligence and sensitivity. Based on the true story of Joseph Merrick, a severely deformed man in 19th century London.

Verdict: The Elephant Man showcases how cruel human nature can be. It is one of Lynch’s most sentimental works that manages to be both horrendous and beautiful. John Hurt’s performance as the “elephant man” is multilayered and one of the most impressive, humanistic feats of an artist embodying a character with the utmost ingenuity.

#6 - Blue Velvet (1986) Runtime: 2 hr Aspect Ratio: 2.35 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

The discovery of a severed human ear found in a field leads a young man on an investigation related to a beautiful, mysterious nightclub singer and a group of criminals who have kidnapped her child.

Verdict: This is Lynch’s detective film, and I would say one of the best starting films for someone looking to get into his work. It has all of the surrealist plot motifs we come to expect from Lynch, but also has a pretty understandable storyline for the most part. Blue Velvet explores the dark underbelly beneath the fake “harmless” veneer of a seemingly quiet and peaceful small town.

#5 - Wild at Heart (1990) Runtime: 2 hr 5 min Aspect Ratio: 2.35 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

Young lovers Sailor and Lula run from the variety of weirdos that Lula’s mom has hired to kill Sailor.

Verdict: Many might not see Wild at Heart as one of Lynch’s strongest works, but I personally find it to be the most fun film he has ever made. Lynch creates such a wide variety of scummy characters that truly make your stomach church (I am looking at you Willem Dafoe). It’s one of those so-bad-it’s-perfect movies and the Wizard of Oz allusions are a great addition to the story.

#4 - Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me (1992) Runtime: 2 hr 14 min Aspect Ratio: 1.85 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

In the questionable town of Deer Meadow, Washington, FBI Agent Desmond inexplicably disappears while hunting for the man who murdered a teen girl. The killer is never apprehended, and, after experiencing dark visions and supernatural encounters, Agent Dale Cooper chillingly predicts that the culprit will claim another life. Meanwhile, in the more cozy town of Twin Peaks, hedonistic beauty Laura Palmer hangs with lowlifes and seems destined for a grisly fate. Verdict: I think it’s a real shame that this film was held in such low regard by both critics and fans alike when it was released. These people seemed to be truly confused as to the types of films Lynch makes. Thankfully, it has developed into a real cult classic since then. This film, which also serves as a prequel to the iconic television series, abandons the campy tone of the series and is Lynch achieving the vision that he wanted from the show. It’s a beautiful, haunting, and heartbreaking story.

#3 - Inland Empire (2006) Runtime: 3 hr Aspect Ratio: 1.85 : 1 Film Format: Mini DV & 35mm

An actress’s perception of reality becomes increasingly distorted as she finds herself falling for her co-star in a remake of an unfinished Polish production that was supposedly cursed.

Verdict: Lynch has yet to make a feature film since this one, and it truly is the director going off the rails with his style in the best of ways. Inland Empire is almost completely impossible to describe because it is more of an experience than it is a structured narrative. It returns to Lynch’s often-used idea of “hollywood is hell”. To me, this is Lynch’s scariest film. It’s utterly hopeless and the pixelated DV cinematography exudes a very cold and artificial aesthetic. Laura Dern deserved an Oscar for her performance as an actress who confuses her own life to the character she is playing.

#2 - Mulholland Drive (2001) Runtime: 2 hr 27 min Aspect Ratio: 1.85 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

Blonde Betty Elms has only just arrived in Hollywood to become a movie star when she meets an enigmatic brunette with amnesia. Meanwhile, as the two set off to solve the second woman’s identity, filmmaker Adam Kesher runs into ominous trouble while casting his latest project.

Verdict: You will very rarely find such a perfect masterpiece of a film, but Mulholland Drive manages to do that. It also seems to reveal new layers every time I revisit. Lynch blurs the lines between the dream world and reality so masterfully in this film that it really does linger in your subconscious afterward - much akin to a haunting dream that you can’t seem to shake. Naomi Watts is electric as an LA newcomer who gets involved in the dark recesses of Hollywood.

#1 - Eraserhead (1977) Duration: 1 hr 29 min Aspect Ratio: 1.85 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

Henry Spencer tries to survive his industrial environment, his angry girlfriend, and the unbearable screams of his newly born mutant child.

Verdict: By no means am I trying to say Eraserhead is Lynch’s “best” film - but for me it will probably always remain my personal favorite. This was my introduction to Lynch’s work and it holds a very sentimental spot for me as this was the time in my life when I really began exploring experimental film. Eraserhead is set in a dystopia that could also serve as an alternate reality altogether. Henry Spencer has to deal with his demanding wife and deformed child while daydreaming of a singing woman in the radiator. This is Lynch at his most surrealist, his most uncompromising, and his most nauseating. It truly is one the most impressive low-budget films ever made. It manages a fine line between repulsion and transcendence.

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