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fieryhonesty · 3 years

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Genshin drabbles filled with sadness - Kaeya, Diluc, Xiao

“What have I done? Why did I write such angsty stuff? I feel horrible for hurting the boys. Maybe I should have delete this...”

prompts: loosing their s/o for whatever reason, f!reader

Genre: angst

Warning(s): nsfw (alcohol consumption, mention of blood) don’t give me that look you don’t want to read this at work, depression & mourning, reader’s dead (no violent or detailed description the boys just lost their girl)

Kaeya has poured two glasses of wine. One for him and one for the woman sitting next to him. She was smiling with the most genuine smile. Pointing up at the sky. The moon and the stars were shining bright. He didn't need any other light source to see her beautiful face.

Just the two of them sitting at the balcony of their shared house. Silently observing the beauty of the night. Drinking from his glass, the sweet-bitter taste was dancing on his tongue. It was as beautiful as the woman he was spending the time with.

"You know, you are really beautiful tonight, y/n. How about I take a day off tomorrow just to spend it with you?"

No answer.

"We could go on a walk around the city or perhaps go outside the city's walls?"

Yet again, silence.

Kaeya finished his glass with one quick motion. Pouring more wine. The burning sensation in his throat was slowly reminding him something.

"Hey, Dearest. Why don't you talk to me?"

Silence.

"Ah, you are right. I'm... a fool."

He starts laughing. It's not a laugh a happy man would have, it's quite the opposite. Kaeya's in pain. His chest hurts, he knows why but dares not to admit it.

Removing his eye patch and tossing it on the table. Looking at his smiling companion. Why is she so beautiful? He is such a lucky man, having somebody like that. So why is he feeling this pain in his chest? Why does he feel like his heart will burst?

The glass with wine shatters. The shards are covered in the red liquid. He closes his eyes. Trying to force the tears to stop forming. Biting his lips. It hurts so much. His hazy memories are slowly reminding him what's going on.

Just like a movie it all flashes back in the moment you were standing between him and the enemy. Blocking the hit for him. Falling to ground with a painful scream. But before that you managed to look at your beloved. He is safe, you did well.

He stares in horror at the scene. Wishing it's just a bad horror he is watching. This can't be happening. You didn't waste your life for him, did you? If there was somebody supposed to die it's him. He made a mistake. A mistake which cost him you.

Kaeya is silently sobbing, one hand hiding his face while the other is gripping his attire at chest area. He is sure nobody can see him, yet he still feels like to hide. He might be drunk but he knows the woman next to him is just an illusion created by his own mind. There's nobody at all it's just him and the wine.

You are no longer alive. It's all because of him being cocky that day. He was full of himself and so sure he will keep you safe. In the end he lost his remaining pride and you...

Diluc is walking in circles. Biting his thumb while doing so. It hurts, he can taste blood but nothing hurts more than his heart right now. Sweat is forming on his forehead as he is trying to suppress his tears. His shoes are making loud thumbs against the wooden floor. The sounds can be heard in the room under his.

Everyone is silent in the room. Elzer, Adelinde, the old man Tunner and a few more. Listening to noises from Master Diluc's room, yet nobody dares to let him know he is loud. It would be more than rude. Especially now when he has to deal with yet another painful experience.

First he lost his father and several years later he lost his wife. He was finally happy. Having you by his side was a blessing. You were there for him whenever he needed and he did the same for you. Feeling down? He'd be there cupping your face, planting butterfly kisses on your face. Snuggling you close into a protective embrace.

You did something similar. Playing with his hair when he was snuggled to your neck. Brushing through them, tucking them behind his ear. Saying soothing words. He would fall asleep like that.

But now? You are gone. Your sudden passing away affected the whole manor. You were liked among the maids as you often joined in small talk or offered to help them. Despite their protests it's their job. You didn't mind it.

Old Tunner and folks from vineyards remember how you often walked around. Caressing the grapes or bringing some snack.

Simply put. You were the star which was shining bright for everyone. Lifting their spirits and now you are gone. Everyone is mourning you but none can think of how much he is hurt.

When Diluc heard about your critical condition he rushed to see you but doctors didn't let him. You needed to rest but your body was weak, they knew you won't make it. In the end allowing him to see you for the last time. Holding your already cold hand.

He sat there for minutes, until you left him all alone. He didn't move, doctors had to lead him out. Somebody had to pick him up and bring home. He laid on the bed, one hand over his face. Trying to keep his tears away.

Nobody dared to knock on the door. Not even Elzer who always worried about his young Master. Trying to offer some kind words. He knew his words would be useless now. All he can do is just wait. He knows if he goes his Master will be out of control and won't listen to anything.

It's just another painful hit for Master Diluc. He thought he would be happy finally. Already had plans for the future with you. Everything is pointless now. Why does life keep taking his beloved ones from him? How much more he has to suffer…

Xiao is silently sitting at the top of Wangshu Inn. The cold wind is caressing his hair. He is observing the distant horizon, how the moon is slowly going up. His mind is blank. If he were a mortal it would be probably clouded by negative thoughts.

He has no feelings or need for them. He is one of the mighty Adepti, there's no room for stupid things like feelings or emotions. At least that's what he tries to keep repeating to himself.

Mortals come and leave out of his life. Which is only natural for their short life span. He wouldn't be bothered with it at all. But there was a woman who managed to change him. Showed him what those odd feelings in his chest are. She proved to him he has feelings and emotions. He was just suppressing them his whole life.

Perhaps it was all for the better. He feels lonely. Usually it would be the two of you sitting here. You would be nudging him about random things. Snuggle onto his shoulder, whispering some nonsense. He would look at you and see those shiny, beautiful eyes of yours.

He remembers when you fed him with his favorite dish. He was confused at first why would you do it. Explaining to him it's something people in love would do for their partner. Take care of them. He tried to feed you too, it was a clumsy attempt. But you appreciated his efforts.

You showed him so many nice things he could see only from mortal's eyes. He understands some things he couldn't before. All because of you. But what's this feeling? Regret? No. He does not regret letting you enter his life. He regrets being too late.

Before he could do something you were already gone. The demon which attacked you. That sneaky bastard avoiding his watchful gaze. It dared to assault somebody he thought of as a close person. Taking you from him just as if bonds are nothing.

When he arrived you were possessed by the demon. Its power went out of control, destroying everything around. He tried to talk to you but there was nothing left, just agony and darkness. He could see the suffering in your face. You didn't want to. You never were a violent person, yet now you are destroying everything.

For the first time in his life Xiao felt anger was taking control over him. He wanted to eradicate all demons. For what they did all those millennials, for what they did just right now. He knew you will eventually die and leave him, he was fine with that. But he never thought of losing you like this.

He has to do his duty as a Yaksha, the Liyue's protector. Pointing the tip of his spear at your throat. He stopped only because you tried to talk. The words coming out of your lips were just gibberish.

"Farewell, y/n. I'm sorry."

Ending it just like that. Watching how the blood was leaving your body. Feeling sick from the sight of it. He released you from the agony the demon was causing you. Banishing it as it tried to escape from your dying body. There's no demon safe, not from Xiao. He will continue his duty.

But one thing is certain. He will always feel lonely at night as he got used to your presence. You will remain in his heart forever. Always will have that special place as a foolish but lovely mortal, daring to approach him despite all of his fame as a Yaksha. The cold he feels right now bothers him. Just if you could be there...

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin drabbles #genshin x reader #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin kaeya x reader #genshin diluc x reader #genshin xiao x reader #f!reader #xiao is inspired a bit by his voice line #my heart still hurts #please forgive me husbandos #fiery flash

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thiscrazyfan · 3 years

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The Leader

The only leader they can have, is Pan. There could be no other leader than him.

At first Wendy didn't noticed it. She was certian that this island, the island that free from rules and hierarchy, there was no need in an actual leader. She told herself that the boys are all behave, and that they are all happy here and do what they want.

When she started to notice that the boys do only what Pan wants, she told herself that it was because he was responsible. He was smart, and creative, and always came up with the best games to play. In her naivity she told herself that those were the traits that drawn the boys to him.

She started to notice that something was wrong when one of the new lost boys, Fred, offered that they'll go find a tresure. Pan imdytly got intrested and said he'll organized a search party that would find the best tresure in the world. Fred didn't said anything, but by the look in his eyes it was clear he was disapointed that he didn't got any credit. Feeling him, she turned over Pan and asked, "shouldn't Fred orgenaized the search party? I'm sure he wants to."

Fred's face light up like christmas tree. However, Pan looked directly at her. She didn't noticed that the boys around her all turned quiet, or the little smirk on Felix's face. Pan said, "Come again?"

"I think that Fred should be in charge on the search party."

"No, that's a stupid idea."

The way he said it, as if it was a fact, insulted Wendy. Why did he thought her ideas were stupid? She never critisissed him before. "Just let him be in chargerged this one time, it will be fun."

The redhead boy turned over to Fred. He looked at him directly, as if there was no one else in the island. He asked, "do you want to lead?"

Fred, the pure little soul that he was, nodd exited.

Still soer, Pan let him be in charged. Wendy was excited for Fred until the search party which the newly- lost- boy lead retuned without Fred, and Pan was the one who declared that his bad leadership got him dead. She cried for monthes after that, and it didn't helped that Pan reminded her, "it was your fault for encourage him to lead."

The next time was years later, when the mask started to sleep and she relized that not everything was as it seemed. She noticed that Felix helped one of the lost to improve his shooting skills. She watched how the other boys looked admirely at him and without thinking she said, "wow Felix, the boys really trust you."

Everyone stoped. Felix looked at her blaimingly. Suddenly she knew she had said something that was really, really wrong. Felix took a threatining step towards her and said, "I only do what any other lost boy would do."

"That's true," Wendy hurried to say, to fix it.

But Edgar, the newest and youngest lost boy, disagree. "That's not true Felix. You do beyond that."

Another lost boy shut him up right away, and Wendy was greatful. Pan was nowhere around and she had almost let herself to calm down when in the next day Felix is gone. She is paniced. Maybe she and Felix are not best friends, yet she didn't want him to die. She, Tootles, Slightly and the twins searched for him and Pan all around the camp. They all feared the worst and Wendy blamed herself for that.

Thankfully, they came back a few hours later. Felix had a new scar, nothing else bad. She made sure not to say ever again something about how helpful Felix was.

And whatever Pan and him had been through that day they were gone, it sank in. Felix stopped helping the other boys around. When they got hurt, when they needed something, there was no responsible lost boy to turn to. No older lost boy who knew how to shoot an arrow. No lost boy who came to disinfect their injured knees.

Wendy knew it can't last like this forever. If every lost boy would only have himself to take care of, they would be in troubles. Pan might be the leader, but he didn't cared enough to help them with all their little problems. Someone had to put an end to that.

So she was the one who helped. She learned how to shoot the target to teach the other boys how to shoot well. She learned how to make medicines from wild flowers and how to encourage the boys to go on adventures. She payed attention to them, and helped them whenever she could.

She couldn't tell when the change started exactly. One day she was all alone, doing her everyday tasks. The next day she barely had any free time for herself. The boys were starved for attention. They asked her all day, they wanted her to help them. They always wanted to know what was on her mind, what she had thought about their ideas and if she was proud at them.

Wendy really didn't thought that Pan would mind it. It wasn't like she had done something out of the ordinery. She just helped them as she could.

Maybe he really didn't cared. Not really. At least not until the day he offered that they would go to fight the pirates and Eddie, little Eddie, whispered, "what mom thinks of that?"

The boys all looked at her. Wendy felt ice swiming in her veins. Surly Eddie just got it a little mixed up. He just missed him mother so badly that he thought of her accidently as such.

And then Gabriel, who was just a little bit older asked, "yeah, what mom thinks?"

More and more mumbles repeated the question. The older boys, Rufio, Felix, Nibs and all those who watched it all before kept their mouth shut. It didn't made up for the other twenty boys who eagerly waited for her reply.

She could feel Pan's eyes on her. The memory of the day poor Fred died crossed her mind. She felt her lower lips shaken. Pan stood in front of her. His eyes drilled a hole into her soul. With the coldest voice she heard, he said, "very well, what mom thinks?"

Wendy wearked her mind in a way out of this question. She couldn't have let Pan know what she really thinks about fighting against pirates. She couldn't lie to him either, not when he knew all too well how much she hated those fights.

Her voice broke, "I think... that your leader knows what he is doing. He brought you're all hear safetly, to this wonderful land where you should never grow old. He always comes up with the best plan. I'm sure you all should listen to him."

Pan and her kept staring at each other. From the corner of her eyes she noticed that Nibs covered his mouth. It was probably look into snake's eyes.

Finally, Pan looked away from her. His lips quirk into a wild smile and he called, "you heard mom boys! Let's go fight the pirates!"

The boys all cheers. Rufio tapped on her back in cheer. Wendy was shocked. She did it. She passed the test. And she proved to Pan that she was not a threat to him.

That was what she thought. A few days later, after they won several battles against the pirates, Pan showed up behind her. He scared her so much that she almost lost her balance. Her reaction amused him. He said, "come with me."

Wendy was surprised. Not from the invatetion. From the tone he used. It was actually a more soft tone than she was used to hear him use. It almost sounded like a request. If he could request stuff. "Sure."

It wasn't like she had any choice.

He gave her his arm, and Wendy tried to ignore the little spark she felt when he did so. They held hands, such a grown- up thingy, and walked deeper into the woods. Pan had a seriuse expression on his face, one that Wendy not often had seen.

She wanted to ask him how was his victory, or tell him any other compliment that would make it easier for her. She couldn't. The next words should come from Pan himself. She waited paitently to open his mouth. Only when they were farther into the woods he spoke, "You really like the lost boys, right Wendy?"

Wendy bited her tounge. His question was so inecent, and yet Wendy knew she should be careful with her words. She looked at his boyish face and thought how misleading he looked. "Of course I like the lost boys. All of them."

"Hm-hm." He removed another bench from her way. How noble of him. "How much you like the lost boys, Wendy?"

"I- I like them a lot."

"A lot?"

"I- Yeah, a- a lot."

"Could you be more specific? I really want to know how much you like them."

She heard the edge in his voice when he said that word. Wendy felt her words escaping her. She had to come up with something to say, fast. "I'm- I'm-"

When he grabbed her shoulders, she sileneced. She let him pull her over one tree and press her back against it. She gasped. Pan smiled at her, his nails dugg into her flash hard. He said again, "go ahead Wendy, tell me how much you love them."

Dear god, this was the end. She would never see her brothers or her parents again. Wendy forced herself to look at him without blinking. She whispered, "I love them- very deeply. Very- very deeply."

Pan nodd, as if it was the answer he wanted. His nails cut her flash. "Would you say you love them... as a mother, loves her children?"

Obviusly not. She was a kid. She could not really love them as if they were her children. Well, what's worst? That they'll feel towards her parenting affection, or normal one? "I love them as a mother loves her children," she said the words quickly.

Pan removed one hand from her shoulder. She noticed he lowered it down to his side, close to where he put his dagger. "See, I'm a little... lost here, Wendy. How does a mother loves her children?"

If only she could run. Maybe if she'll scream someone would come to help her. But they'll have to fight Pan, and Wendy would never forgive herself if they'll get in troubles because of her. She said quickly, "A mother- a mother always thinks of what's good for her children. She reads them stories, and comfort them when they cry, and they can come to her if there is any trouble-"

She saw that his smile tighten. No, please no. "She can solves problem?" His hand touched the handle of his weapon.

"No- Well, yeah, but-"

"Kind of like a leader?"

In the real world, mom was her leader. But this was in another life. Better life. And Wendy knew from Pan's expression that she have to find another answer. She can't delete her words, she can't take them back. She worked her mind of what to say.

Right before Pan pulled out his dagger she squeezed, "she is secondery."

Pan stopped. He didn't let her go, but he looked at her lips. He was listening.

Wendy didn't knew if this was right. She didn't cared either. She had to come up with something. "Mom is always secondery. The real leader."

His eyebrows raised up. He pushed her harder against the tree. "And who-" he whispered in her ear, "-is the real leader?"

Her back hurt her. It was hard to think this way. "It's dad."

Pan's grip on her losen slightly. If he was surprised by her words, he didn't shown it. He repeated. "Dad."

"Yes. Dad is... He is the one that in charged on everyone."

She had his attention now. She noticed the way his lips moved up, the way that he smiled when he had thought about a new advanture. "What does dad do?"

"Dad is the one... He is in charged on the family. He tells everyone what to do. And there are problems mom can never solve, you know? So dad is the one that fix those for her."

Things that mom can't do, and he can. This thought is more like him. Gaining more cinfident, Wendy went on: "he is the strongest, the smartest, and the most important parent. Mom always have to listen to dad. And everyone loves him."

And that is the key sentence. She knew all too well how much Pan wanted to be loved.

His grip turned gentler now. The dagger had been forgoten. Pan thought about her words, considered her idea. The look he had was softer, and Wendy knew she was almost there.

He asked her, "And mom?"

"Mom loves dad more than anyone else in the world."

"Does she?"

"She does. She have to love him more than anyone. He is dad."

Pan likes that idea even more. She can see it. She feels it from Pan. He let her go from the tree and ofers her again his hand. "We should come back, they probably looking for us."

Wendy didn't said a word. Not when they come back, not when all the sudden the young lost- boys called pan "dad". Not when Rufio gave her that worried gaze, or when Nibs thanked heaven quietly that she came back.

She had never forget that dagger, and that Pan is the one true leader.

#ouat peter pan #dark peter pan #peter pan #wendy #wendy darling #lost boys #dark prompts #dark neverland #darling pan #dark story #toxic family #twisted fairy tail #twisted peter pan #dark love #dark fanfic #dark fanfiction #leader #toxic love

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unpopularly-opinionated · 3 years

Link

I don’t play WoW but I used to play Overwatch and Diablo and this touches on just the general issues that are inside of Activision Blizzard right now regarding the major decline of World of Warcraft and how they’re losing to Final Fantasy XIV, how if the latest WoW expansion or Overwatch 2 flop as they’re projected to do then Blizzard’s most definitely going to pivot almost entirely to mobile games, and how the differences in age demographics are actually dividing the company into multiple camps.

It’s important to note two things: 1) this could be fake but also 2) the link came from Grummz, a former team lead on WoW and producer on Diablo II and Starcraft. It still could be fake despite this, but if he’s sharing it then I feel like there’s at least some measure of truth in this.

Transcription below in case this gets deleted and/or you don’t wanna click the link. Warning, it’s fairly long.

“I’m dropping this here after getting chewed out for three hours over shit the chewee did at work so fuck it. Assume larp and let me vent.”

>Shadowlands is a shitshow. Critical response, Player drop off and just about every engagement metric outside of cash shop have been catastrophic. No higher up expected this because of their “we are too big to fail, if we built it they will come” mentality. They refuse to accept their focus on the world being a begrudged mechanic to funnel players to raiding is not appealing to the player base at large because it appeals to them. They have spent the last 4 months trying to course correct but there is no solid direction and the response to 9.1 has only made things worse.

>Sylvanas is planned to replace the Arbiter despite so many people in the company and god knows how many online saying this would be a total replication of Kerrigans storyline in Starcraft 2 that killed none competitive interest in the brand entirely and you can only go “no, no they WILL like it eventually” for so many real world years before its time to change course. Thus far that has not happened.

>The elephant in the room is FFXIV. To the people in charge they are acting like this came out of nowhere and don’t even seem to understand why its drawing players away in their tens of thousands. We have all tried to highlight things it is doing that are clearly appealing to an mmo audience and not, in my opinion, focussing more on mobile game style retention traps to keep MAU users and habit forming personalities logging in. Its not that they don’t care. They just seem so pig headed and digging their heels in with their fingers in their ears thinking all the problems will go away because WoW is “too big to fail”, there will never be real competition and “they will keep coming back”. But they aren’t coming back anymore. Not in the numbers they used to.

>The people making the spending choices know this. The new model for WoW is market the hell out of a expansion pack for a huge quarter then use 6 month lock ins to pad numbers for the quarters after that. Even if corona had not happened 9.1 still would have been dropping after the initial 6 month subs expired to “keep the chain holding”.

>The mood in the company is tense but also very much “its just a rough transition period”. Activision has been pushing hard for Blizzard to release more regular product and to generate more income per user. As far as i know this is going to be a transition over the next 5 years to a much larger mobile/tablet gaming focus. By all accounts not just WoW but Overwatch was intended to be the moneymaker in the interim but once again someone had the bright idea to kill a game casual players loved on the alter of e-sports hoping for another Brood War. From what i hear the “told you so’s” were loud and a lot of people walked beyond Kaplan.

>The sentiment that was shared quietly in private but being spoken more often is simply that the leadership at Blizzard are not bad people, nor incompetent people but people who had to fill seats left when the old guard jumped ship wether they were suited for it or not. Brack is a genuinely good man out of his depth, Ion is a fantastic raid designer put in charge of designing a virtual world he has no interest or real ideas for and so on. They have been taking form the roles they excel at to be put in positions where they get to do far less of that purely because there is nobody left with the experience to do so and the trickle down is a lack of concrete direction, ambition and focus.

>2021 has seen the playerbase, media and gaming at large “turn” on WoW to a degree i don’t think the leads in their “positivity dojo” bubble considered possible. Its gone from people going “This is how Blizz needs to fix WoW!” to “WoW is no longer salvageable, time for greener pastures” and i think on some level this was never considered as a possibility so there have never been any major plans beyond the usual “try and minimise player drop off by arranging releases around competitors launching updates/products”. The official forums being filled with talk of FFXIV and worse “why do we actually pay a sub?” hasn’t helped.

>There have been some testing the waters lately from certain higher ups if we can remove the line “No King Rules Forever”. Read into that what you will.

>There are still arguments going on about the Kael’thas Voice actor shitshow. I don’t know much about it but i know its heated, wouldn’t be the first time a knee jerk reaction only seemed to generate bad press. We lost a noticeable amount of pvp engagement after the Swifty thing.

>The Preach interview was treated as a disaster and there was talk of more strongly vetting interviewers for “bad actors” and only engaging with a list of questions Blizzard provides. Some pointed out that could just be used to create some form of Fireside Chat akin to the FFXIV “Live letters” but that fell on deaf ears.

>The two sentiments right now among the team are either “we really need a win” or “theres a dedicated cabal of internet trolls out to kill WoW”. Right now we are crunching hard to get 9.2 ready to wrap up the jailors storyline so we can get an expansion out early 2022. If that doesn’t happen there are talks of major shakeups coming down from Activision that have been threatened for a few years now. Its an all hands on deck feeling thats been around to some degree since the “Is this an out of season April Fools Joke” Blizzcon. A make or break deadline is coming closer and things like Diablo 4 were not planned before then. Blizzard needs a significant win not just in initial profit but consumer goodwill. Nobody likes working at what the public now seems to see as “the bad guy” of the mmo industry.

>This has also made new hires decline. Not significantly but the “you WANT Blizzard on your resume” line doesn’t seem to have the appeal it used to. This has lead to more hiring via friend of a friend, to some rumblings about nepotism, and people severely lacking in experience “because they get great twitter optics”.

>On the topic of Twitter we are not being told to “disengage” from it. Multiple employees like Nervig and Holisky publicly attacking paying customers because they got too heated and couldn’t keep quiet is bad press that could have been avoided. A email reminder has gone around more than once lately stating “if you are not customer relations you should not be representing the company to customers, especially if you cannot remain professional”.

>Lastly the biggest elephant in the room is “yo’ boy” Asmongold. The newer hires cannot stand him. They have used terms like “toxic masculinity” and “dogwhistles to dangerous males” while some of the oldest crowd still remaining have called him “based” or “telling it like it is” which has lead to friction to put it mildly. People are told not to talk about him and the recent FFXIV stuff only made it all worse. The idea that an outside element can have such an effect on the product genuinely upsets people. Like Zach is engaging in some malicious act of cyberwarfare. Many of us have point out the now famous quotes by Naoki Yoshida about understanding that players will drift and we need to make something worth coming back to because they want to but some people for lack of a better word see out customers -or “consumers” as they refer to them nowadays- as some kind of antagonistic relationship where the goal is not being an entertainer putting on a show for a crowd but some kind of game hunter trying to trap a large, profitable kill. I wish i could blame Activision but this is a sentiment from more of the younger crowd than the “tech boomers”. Which personal opinion is probably why so many folks like Metzen and Morheim left.

>Before you ask, yes the topic of “wokeness” has shown up in group talks. Its not all some grand sjw conspiracy, people really do want to feel welcome and represented. However the “we need everything veto’ed by people not working on it to see if its inoffensive and bland enough” rubs some of us the wrong way. Like anything in life you can take something too far and lose sight of the core ideals and with everything gone on since Blitzchung it feels like people are forming little factions to pull people in different directions to decide “What Blizzards identity is now” and how to appeal to new players. There has been some drop offs with “go woke go broke” as the only answer in the survey when unsubbing but honestly we are losing subs in unforseen numbers anyway and still making more money than ever through cash shop “heavy users” so it honestly doesn’t make an impact.

>All in all things are rough right now. Blizzard doesn’t have the love of the customers anymore, is no longer treated as an industry giant and while D4,D2R and Immortal aren’t going to kill Diablo even if they fail the sentiment for World of Warcraft and Overwatch 2 are a lot more tense and stressful. The phrase “it might be good to brush up on your mobile development portfolio if we get another underperformer” has been doing the rounds a lot. If Shadowlands continues its stark decline and Overwatch 2 is looking to underperform like its current projections suggest i think the Blizzard of a few years from now will be imitating King a lot more than trying to learn any lessons from Square Enix’s mmo division.

#random #video games #Blizzard #Activision #WoW #World of Warcraft #Diablo #Overwatch #Starcraft #Activision Blizzard

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plague-of-insomnia · 3 years

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I want to make a few things very clear about my posts re: the fandom dying since people insist on misrepresenting what I said or intended.

I was speaking specifically of the tumblr fandom

I was speaking specifically of the proship subfandom

I was not speaking about only sebaciel (I never even said that word anywhere in either the meme or explanation posts)

I was not including other social media or discord aspects of the fandom

I was not trying to harken back to the “good old days” (I joined after the purge, so I couldn’t even begin to say what it was like back then)

I was not trying to say that there aren’t people still creating or supporting one another; I even made a point of stating explicitly that amazing people and creators is (part of) why I’m still here:

This isn’t to say that there aren’t ANY supportive people in the fandom. Ofc there are. Some fantastic ones.

I never said that only new content is necessary to keep the fandom alive; but part of my point is how many people have deactivated and deleted their content, both here and on AO3, making it difficult or impossible to find (I’m talking post-purge stuff) [ofc you have a right to remove your content when you leave a fandom, but how can I include past content as part of the current fandom when so much is just… gone forever?]

I never said that people aren’t allowed to leave if they lose interest in kuro; my point, again, is that people have been leaving largely not bc they don’t want to make/share kuro content anymore but that they felt like no one cared bc of a lack of support for said content

I specifically stated that it isn’t about the size of the fandom, or how popular any of the individual creators may be, but about the lack of community and support:

A fandom can be perfectly wonderful with a small group of people who support each other…. as long as you have like-minded people excited about a piece of media enough to make and share content for it.

~#~

I refuse to take back my statements about the tumblr proship kuro fandom dying. I still stand by them.

I didn’t just wake up one morning and decide “the fandom is dying.” This is an observation I (and others) have made over the course of the past ~12+ months, and especially the last 6 months. And I personally have seen the difference between the support creators receive and how active the fandom on tumblr is in other fandoms here compared to kuro—even very small, niche ones.

You’re free to disagree with me, ofc. I never intended the posts to be seen as negative (and I said as much), but rather speaking up for a trend I have been observing for awhile.

I would really love to see those remaining in the fandom come together, specifically here on tumblr, because I still love Kuro and some of the amazing people and creators I’ve had the fortune to meet.

It’s been so wonderful lately to see people trying to support each other or excited about the morale-boosting things that we are planning.

Despite the naysayers, @gabedemon and I are still going to do what we can, and I’m again always open if you have any ideas you would like to see implemented going forward.

#not putting this in the main tags bc I’m tired of this bs #but reblog if you want I guess #braces for more vaguing and hate anons anyway #apparently people aren’t alllowed to have opinions or make observations in this fandom

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robinherman · 3 years

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captain-aralias · 4 years

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today i have done very very little. i certainly haven’t started my COTTA but ask me tomorrow, and hopefully i will have because october is already half way done...

for now, i thought i’d post all the bits i deleted from Greener Grass, so they’re out of my head. i’ve just re-read them and i think all of them make the story worse, so it’s good they’re gone! but interesting.

plus, it’s no longer so incredibly painful for me to think about how i deleted 6,000 words from my 40,000 word fic because it’s done. so - now’s the time to share.

if you haven’t read Greener Grass, perhaps you’d like to! it’s a Wayward Son bodyswap.

here’s the stuff i wrote but didn’t use

Deleted scenes:

actually, to be honest, these are less deleted scenes, and more - alternate scenes. in most cases you can see where they came from/what they turned into.

from chapter 1:

(Baz POV)

When I get out, Simon is standing in front of the mirror trying to flatten my hair, even though I definitely told him not to.

“It’s all right, Snow – I can deal with it.”

“You didn’t bring a hairdryer,” he says defensively as I start pulling the kinks out with my wand.

I sigh, although I’m not actually angry about this. It’s just hair – it’s not as if he got it cut without asking me. That I really would have found hard to forgive.

“Do you even know what a hairdryer looks like?”

“Yes.”

“Because there’s one in the wall.”

“Oh.”

Snow’s eyes meet mine in the mirror (which is surreal, for obvious reasons) and then travel down the rest of my body.

“What the hell are you wearing? I look like I work in a bank.”

He looks horrified. As though the sight of himself in trousers that actually fit and a neatly pressed white cotton shirt is one of the worst things he’s ever seen. It really isn’t. He looks lovely.

I frown. “You needed some new clothes.” I lower my voice. “I didn’t look, if that’s what you’re worried about. I changed with my eyes closed.”

“Oh,” Simon says. “Er. You didn’t?”

“No.”

“I looked,” Simon says after a moment. “Twice.”

I stare at him and he shifts uneasily.

“I mean, did you not want to?”

“What?”

I’m not sure if my brain has shorted out from the knowledge that Simon has seen me naked, or from the clear invitation to go and look at him in the same state. Both, probably.

I can feel myself blushing. And see it in the mirror – Simon blushes easily, unlike me. It’s charming. And I can’t help but notice that the flush is spreading below the collar of the shirt I’ve put him in. (Crowley, I wonder how far down it goes.)

“It’s fine if you don’t,” Simon says hurriedly. “I know it’s a bit weird––”

“Simon,” I say firmly, “

reason for change:

i cut this back in february, so i’m not entirely sure - but basically i think it had to go because i knew i switched too early to simon’s POV because baz leaving to go to the bathroom felt so final (people leaving a room? it’s how you know the scene is over. no - that’s lazy). staying with simon meant i could write some of my favourite stuff in this chapter about him looking at baz and wanting him.

(Simon POV)

“Are you sure you’ll be all right?” Baz said to me as I tried to leave . “There will be a lot of vampires in there––”

I shrug. “I know how to handle vampires.”

“You certainly do,” Baz said. Then I think he realised he’d said that out loud and grimaced. “Please pretend I didn’t say that.”

“Done,” Shepard says.

“Speak for yourself,” Penelope says. “It’ll be burned into my brain forever.”

reason for change:

i mean, i kept most of this. i think i probably cut too harshly, and then missed the ‘handle vampires’ joke and put it back in in a different format.

Chapter 2

i hope you like... hundreds of version of exactly the same fucking scene.

BAZ

Lamb blinks. Whatever he was expecting, that wasn’t it.

It wasn’t what I was expecting, either. I suppose Simon has to say something. (And admitting that he’s the former Chosen One, and we want to see whether the Next Blood can give him his magic back, is unlikely to go down well.) But I’m not sure what he’s getting at with this particular avenue. And clearly, neither does Lamb.

“You do know what the Next Blood are, don’t you?” he says. “They’re like us, physically.”

“You mean, they’re vampires?” Simon says. “Yeah. I mean, I know. But they’re not vampire-vampires, are they? They don’t drink blood.”

I notice Lamb is wincing every time Simon says ‘vampire’. (As am I. Although I’m still invisible so it doesn’t count.) It’s at odds with the confidence that he’s been projecting so far. Which is a relief, actually. It’s good to know that the vampires here are still afraid of discovery. From everything Shepard said about them, I imagined they must be running this entire city. But this one at least still has some fear.

I can use that – if I have to.

I’m sitting in the booth opposite the two of them, on a fur-lined stool (most impractical). As long as no one tries to sit here, I have a clean shot at Lamb, if he tries anything. Although he hasn’t yet. I think he’s genuinely interested in us. (In me? In Simon? In whatever we’re doing here.)

“Would you mind not using that word?” he says now.

Simon looks confused. “What. Blood?”

“No. Although why not stop using that as well? For consistency.”

“Sorry.”

Lamb waves the apology off, gracefully. “But that’s it, is it? The feeding? That’s the thing you don’t like about being … one of us.”

“Yes,” Simon says. “I mean, no. It’s one of the things I don’t like.”

“Strange,” Lamb says. “I’ve always found it rather enjoyable, myself.”

I’m horrified (I knew we were sending Simon out to talk to murderers – but I didn’t expect them to brag about it over milkshakes.) Simon looks horrified too. That’s not usually a good sign for the people he’s horrified about. If he still had his sword, it would be drawn by now.

“Killing people?” he demands.

I grip my wand more tightly, but Lamb only laughs.

“No. That’s not much fun at all, is it? But it’s hardly necessary.”

“It’s not?” Simon says. Then I think he remembers the phone (although obviously, I’m right here. And I don’t think I would have missed this, even if I wasn’t). He says very clearly: “You’re saying vampires don’t kill everyone they bite?”

Lamb sighs. “Simon. You don’t mean to tell me you’ve been draining everyone you bite? No wonder you hate yourself.”

reason for change:

pass. (maybe i should remove this commentary portion.) i know i was having big problems with this scene. as you’re about to find out.

i think i probably cut this because i was struggling, and then i re-wrote it in simon’s POV, which you can see below, and then re-wrote again very similar to what we have here.

(Baz POV)

“Then don’t,” Lamb says. “Honestly, Simon, it’s not as if it’s compulsory.”

My wand clatters to the floor. Lamb’s head jerks towards where I’m sitting, but Simon is completely focused on him.

“What do you mean, it’s not compulsory?”

Lamb’s head twists back. He tuts. “Have you really been draining everyone dry? It’s really not necessary.”

reason for change:

a different version of the above? still not really working.

(Simon’s POV)

“Because I don’t like being a vampire,” I say.

Lamb blinks. Whatever he was expecting, that wasn’t it.

Even I wasn’t expecting it, but I don’t think it’s the worst lie I could have come up with.

Anyway, Lamb seems to be buying this, so I’m safe for now. In fact, he’s more interested in me than ever. He leans slowly forward in his seat, but I can tell he’s just pretending to be casual. He’s really paying attention.

“And you think the Next Blood can help you?”

I shrug. “Yeah?”

Lamb’s eyebrows are right down. “I haven’t heard anything about this.”

I shrug again. “Maybe you don’t move in the same circles.”

“I try not to,” Lamb says. “Perhaps that was a mistake.”

reason for change:

ok, this is an interesting one. here Lamb mistakenly believes that simon’s telling him that the next blood can change people back from being a vampire - and that’s why he’d team up with them to destroy the next blood. which i thought was cool and fun, and made sense of lamb being an ally. but ... it opens too many doors i’m not interested in and it’s a stupid misunderstanding where a few words could clear it up. so - i ditched this.

(Simon POV again)

“Because I don’t like being a vampire,” I say.

Lamb blinks. Whatever he was expecting, that wasn’t it.

Even I wasn’t expecting it, but I don’t think it’s the worst lie I could have come up with.

Baz does resent being a vampire. (Even if, so far, it actually seems all right to me.) I don’t think he’d love it even if the Next Blood taught him how to survive on transfusion, rather than rats. But it’d be a something. He wouldn’t have had to eat that squirrel, the other day. Or that dog I stole for him, which even I feel a bit guilty about and I didn’t have to eat it.

Lamb is still frowning. “You do know what the Next Blood are, don’t you?” he says. “They’re like us. Physically.”

“You mean, they’re vampires?” I say. “Yeah. I mean, I know. But they’re not vampire-vampires, are they? They don’t drink blood.”

Lamb grimaces. “Would you mind not using that word?”

“Vampires?” I say and Lamb sighs.

. “You mean, eternal life, not aging. Being stronger and faster than everyone else – none of that’s for you?”

I shake my head. I’m trying not to look surprised, even though Lamb’s just told me my boyfriend’s immortal. (I mean, Baz and I always knew it was a possibility. Frankly it’s a bit of a relief to have it confirmed – now he can make plans.)

“So, what?” Lamb says. “Are you just tired of life? Is that it?”

“No,” I say.

Because I’m Baz right now and Baz isn’t. He’s thriving.

Even I’m not tired of life. (At least, I don’t think I am.) Although I am tired of my life – all the sitting around. All the waiting for something to happen. Because it doesn’t.

Or it didn’t – I suppose things have been happening again, since we got to America. I’m being interviewed by a vampire (ha) about being a vampire. That’s different. Not good-different. But different.

“I don’t think I’d want to live forever, though, either,” I say.

“You don’t have to,” Lamb says. “You’ve been given the gift of choice.”

reason for change:

in this scene i was thinking a lot about rainbow saying that she likes to position scenes in the head of the person who cares about it the least. i think that’s why i was trying to force simon’s POV for so long. that and the fact that i thought it was cool, that the reader has this secret which is that Baz is there, and that in the version i eventually went with baz is passive and gets no chance to say anything - he just has to keep reacting.

i think i switched it back to Baz because i felt he deserved to be able to react, though. and you do kind of forget that baz is there, watching thsi scene, if it’s not his POV.

it has some of my favourite lines i cut though, particularly this bit: Even I’m not tired of life. (At least, I don’t think I am.) Although I am tired of my life – all the sitting around. All the waiting for something to happen. Because it doesn’t.

never mind!

(Simon POV)

“I don’t like hiding who I am,” I tell Lamb, because I know that’s what gets Baz down the most. It’s not that he has to eat rats – or it’s not just that. It’s that he has to sneak around, so no one knows he has to eat rats. It’s that his own family won’t even say the word ‘vampire’ out loud. “I’m sick of lying to everyone. And eating rats – I don’t like eating rats.”

Lamb makes a face. “Why are you eating rats?”

“Because I don’t want to kill people,” I say, even though it’s obvious.

Or at least, I thought it was obvious. Lamb looks surprised.

“It’s not compulsory,” he says.

reason for change:

we know this one now - this is simon’s POV, and i’d switched back to baz. this is quite good, though, re baz’s family.

(Simon POV)

“Aren’t you going to get that?” Lamb says.

He must have heard it vibrating (vampire hearing – I can hear it too, if I concentrate. Not just feel it.) Something must have gone wrong. I don’t want to draw attention to the fact that my friends have been listening in on our whole conversation. But just ignoring the call now he’s pointed out is probably even more suspicious. And if something has gone wrong, I should probably find out what it is.

“Yeah,” I say. “Hang on.”

“Take your time,” Lamb says smoothly.

I slide out of the booth, pulling the phone from my pocket. It’s definitely ringing, but the screen says Fiona Pitch rather than Penelope. Which is good, I think. It means nothing’s wrong. I reject Fiona’s call and there’s Penny’s call – still connected.

“Is everything all right

“Simon? Is Baz with you?” Penny’s voice says.

“What?” I say. “I thought he was with you.”

“He––”

“How dare you hang up on,” another voice says, cutting in over the line. (It must have been magic – I think, even on a posh new iPhone like this one is, you still have to choose to change the line). And I might not have recognised it, but I’ve just seen the owner’s name on my phone. i

When I look back over at Lamb, I see Baz taking a seat opposite him.

BAZ

Baz, right?”

I’m not sure what gave it away.

I’ve been here the entire time, and Simon hasn’t described me – himself – to Lamb. I would have noticed. And it’s not like Simon and I have matching terrible-boyfriend rings or bracelets (I’m not that pathetic.)

Perhaps it’s the look of cold fury I’m giving him. I know this look well – from the other side. I know Simon’s good at fury, that it looks good on him. Like he means it.

Whenever he used to direct that look at me, I knew I was going to have to duck. Or spell him first. It’s not an unattractive look, but I never got distracted when I saw it. I knew

So right now, I think I probably look like the sort of man who’s probably thinking seriously about ripping this Lamb’s throat out. The sort of man who’s just had to spend the last half an hour listening to Lamb trying to tempt my boyfriend into destroying me, like a sort of second-rate American Mephistopheles.

But Lamb doesn’t seem intimated by Simon’s scowl. He still seems delighted.

reason for change:

this is all victim of the POV swap. i knew i was struggling writing simon and lamb’s conversation so skipped ahead to him leaving to talk to fiona, and then back to baz.... some nice stuff here, probably, but ultimately it’s just slowing the action down. baz going right up to lamb is more dramatic.

(Simon POV)

And now I’m stuck trying to explain why I called her earlier today (I didn’t – Baz must have done it while he was out shopping) because Baz never calls, apparently, unless things are bad. Or he’s broken something in the flat and doesn’t know how to fix it with magic.

I mean, they are bad. (Maybe.) But I don’t think that they’ll get any better if I tell Fiona the truth.

So far, I’ve reassured her that Baz’s siblings are all fine. (“Just as annoying as ever, unfortunately.”) And his parents are fine. (“Both in the peak of health.”) And that his exams were fine.

“I’m going to be the top of my class,” I tell Fiona confidently because Baz is. “I’m a complete genius.”

“Hm,” Fiona says, unconvinced. “Tell me – how do you set the thermostat again?”

“Trick question,” I say. “I’d get you to do it.”

Fiona laughs – and it’s nice, I think. A real laugh. I think she does actually like Baz

reason for change:

i had the whatsapp group idea and it was better. this is me leaning into the idea of simon having to pretend to be baz.

(Simon POV)

“Let’s go, Simon,” Baz says.

He stands up next to me. He’s trapped by the booth and the table and me, so even if I wanted to stay (which I definitely don’t, if Baz is leaving), I’d have to stand to let him out. I do and Baz pushes past me, so he’s on my other side – with me and the table between him and Lamb.

“And I haven’t even told you about the Next Blood,” Lamb says.

I shake my head. “You’re right – it was a stupid idea. They’re not going to fix my problems.”

“I can, though,” Lamb says as Baz turns on his heel and I go after him.

“Well. You know where to find me,” Lamb calls, even though I don’t. I don’t think it matters though.

reason for change:

i wrote them a conversation with Lamb instead - here baz is just horrified by whatever it is he’s heard (who knows? i didn’t write it)

(Simon POV)

I stand up to let him pass and Baz practically drags me out of the restaurant by the hand. Out onto the strip where music is still playing and the lights are so bright it might as well be daytime.

Once we get there, though, he freezes.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Vampires,” he says. “Everywhere. Can’t you see them?”

and another version of this...

I pull Baz’s phone out of my pocket, tell Penny we’re heading back, and hang up.

Baz turns to me as I catch up to him. He has his wand out and flicks it, casting Nothing to see here over both of us.

“There are vampires everywhere

reason for change:

this is here because i wanted to write baz seizing simon and flying him up to their room, so he has to cast nothing to see here. also, he’s freaked out about vampires. but baz flying simon up to their room is insanity, so he shouldn’t do that, and baz can be freaked out about vampires because simon is kissing him and we don’t need anyone else.

Chapter 3

thank goodness we’re out of that shitty chapter (shitty from a writing perspective. as a chapter, it works ok! but i still resent it for the problems it caused me.)

it’s highly relevant that mid-chapter 3 is where i took a break and wrote my remix - which is also about wayward son and these themes (and just forced me to stop forcing myself miserably through this chapter). by the time i had to take a break, i’d written most of the flying and the biting, but not the end of simon’s first section in this chapter, or the ending.

(Simon POV)

Last night he found out that his body was different than he’s always thought it was. That’s something I know a lot about. I also now know something about what it’s like to be a vampire. But I’m not sure that helps. I think that’s just making it about me again.

Right now, my part of the story is just to be there for him, the way he’s always been there for me. Or maybe it would be if we weren’t in each other’s bodies right now. As it is, I think I can do a bit better than that.

I’ve dragged Baz out of the hotel (not physically, although he is stronger than me, so I could have done it.) (I just gave him a hand up out of the bath.) I wasn’t sure he’d agree to come with me, but I told him we were going to pick up a burger on the way, and that seemed to do the trick.

“A full sized one?”

“Remember, you’re meeting Lamb at two,” Penny called after us. “And you have to come back here first to pick us up first. Back by lunchtime, Simon.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Now we’re speeding out of the city in Shepard’s truck. (The cab this time, not the back. But this is pretty good, too.) I’m driving. Baz is leaning against the window

Although it might also have helped that I let him wear the floral jacket from yesterday (he spelled it bigger), even though I don’t wear patterns and it’s about a million degrees outside.

It’s only fair – I couldn’t face putting a shirt back on, so today I’m in Baz’s jeans, my t-shirt and I’m wearing my own jacket because I know Baz gets burned easily. Also, I asked room service to bring me a hat with a brim when they brought us breakfast and they did. A cowboy hat. Which is

“Eat,” I tell him now, passing him a bag full of

reason for change:

i was planning to just start this chapter with them driving out to go flying. but then i wanted to write more baz angst... so all this gets cut.

also, this explains why baz thinks that simon is going to get him a burger in the draft i posted, even though simon does not ever say that ;)

(Baz POV)

Even if it would take the pressure off a bit, perhaps. I know what I like, and presumably Simon knows what he likes – but it’s far too weird. (And it’s not the same as kissing. We’ve kissed before, in our actual bodies. This is just an admittedly bizarre continuation of that.) And anyway, it’s Simon I’m desperate to sleep with. Simon who I’ve always wanted.

Simon who is still talking.

reason for change:

i gave this to simon instead!

(Baz POV)

“And you should bite me,” he says breathlessly.

I swallow. (Although honestly, it’s not as if I haven’t thought it).

“All right.”

“You’ll like it,” Simon assures me.

“Well, you’ll like it too.”

Simon groans and presses his forehead into mine.

“Fucking pukwudgie,” he says as I laugh.

...

I never thought I’d be desperate to be back in my own skin, just that I wanted Simon out of it, but I need to be myself if I’m going to be able to do any of the things I’ve always wanted to do to him.

reason for change:

no idea. maybe because it’s too much like the mage’s heir.

(Simon POV)

He doesn’t start the ignition.

“I should have thought of this sooner,” he says instead. “But I could try spelling your wings away properly. While I’m in your body.”

“Huh?” I say.

My wings are definitely already gone. We wouldn’t fit in the cab, otherwise.

“Your wings,” Baz says. “I know no one’s been able to properly remove them before – even Doctor Wellbelove was talking about surgery. But I’ve always assumed it was because you were the one who cast the spell. So it’s possible that, now I’m in your body, I’d be able to get rid of them for you.” I’m staring at him. “I know we both hope that you’re going to get your own magic back,” he continues carefully. “But in case that doesn’t work – or in case you can’t control it …”

reason for change:

i tried to write this baz-magic wings thing in a few times, because i wanted simon to be able to tell baz that he likes his wings now (and it makes sense that baz would think of this). but ultimately it didn’t flow, that’s the reason i never managed to put it in. i gave baz the revelation instead of simon, re his fangs. so simon doesn’t get this big thing about his wings not being that bad - which obviously leads into what i eventually wrote for the ending which is that simon still.... isn’t completely comfortable in his body, he didn’t have exactly the same revelation that baz did. this is me trying to give him that, though.

(Simon POV)

“Do you want to see Lamb?” I say.

Baz makes a face. “Not particularly. It’s more of a necessary evil.”

“Because he can tell you lots of vampire things?” I ask. “Or because of me? Because if it’s the latter––”

“Of course it’s the latter,” Baz says.

“Then I don’t think we should go,”

“I don’t need my magic back.”

“Are you sure?” Baz whispers.

reason for change:

i probably cut it in favour of what i wrote below.

but essentially it’s all cut because i stopped writing this fic for a month and when i came back i realised that it was still chapter 3 and they couldn’t have this revelation yet!

(Simon POV)

Today, I’m even less keen on seeing Lamb again than I was yesterday. It just seems so pointless. And since Baz barely eats, and I am Baz at the moment, I’m not even that excited to go to a restaurant. (Besides, my mouth still tastes of him. However good this place is, it’s not exactly going to measure up, is it?) But I suppose we do have to go, don’t we?

Because Lamb’s still got lots to tell us. And it’s clear, Penny will kill me if we don’t get to try the food.

It’s just – Baz really doesn’t need transfusion if he can just keep drinking from me. And I can’t help thinking I should really have a better excuse to be tangling with possibly hostile vampires than a curry and maybe getting my magic back.

“Do you really think magic will make your life better?” Lamb asked me yesterday. And I said no.

Baz is already climbing out of the truck-bed and casting “Every time a bell rings” on his wings. I follow him, taking the driver’s seat. After a while he joins me in the cab of the truck and straps on his seltbelt.

I still don’t start the engine.

“Snow?” Baz prompts. “Do you need me to drive?”

I shake my head.

“I’m thinking.”

“Unusual,” Baz says – which is shitty of him, but I think I like that he’s being shitty. He stopped for a while, like how he stopped touching me. It feels like good sign that he’s started again.

“About going to see Lamb.”

“We’re already going to be late,” Baz says.

“I know,” I say. “But. The thing is. You’d still love me, even if I never got my magic back.”

Baz’s eyes flick to his trousers. He smooths down the fabric, even though there’s nothing wrong with it as far as I can see.

“Yes,” he says, without looking at me.

“Right,” I say, relieved. “So, I don’t need my magic back. Which means I only think we should talk to Lamb if you want to.”

Baz’s eyes flick back to my face. “How–?”

“Fiona told me,” I say. “On the phone last night.” I’m just going to say it – it’d be weird not to say it. “And it’s mutual, by the way. In case you’re wondering.”

Baz raises an eyebrow.

“Right.” He looks out the window for a moment and then back to me. “Needless to say, this is not how I imagined this moment going.”

That’s an understatement – he’s in my body, I’m in his. I’ve got at least a pint of Baz’s blood in my stomach and we’re in a truck in the middle of a desert. (I didn’t exactly plan this.)

“What I was actually going to say,” Baz says, “is: How can that possibly be your only consideration?”

“Because it is,” I say. “Before, I thought I needed magic to keep you––”

“You don’t,” Baz says quickly.

I nod. “So, fuck it. I’d only be shit at it again, anyway. I’m not going to risk you and Penny just so I can go back to being terrible at magic.” I don’t say that this would probably make me even more depressed, but I can tell we’re both thinking it. “I shouldn’t have even made you come on this trip. But I don’t mind speaking to Lamb again. If you want to. He seems all right.”

He doesn’t really. It’s just Lamb’s never tried to kill us, which makes him among the nicest vampires I’ve ever met. It’s still a relief when Baz shakes his head.

“I’m getting older. Frankly, it’s a relief. The only normal thing about me. And if I am immortal, I’d rather not think about it.”

That sounds about right. It’s what I’d do.

“Let’s not go then.”

Baz nods. “Just to be clear – you did say you were in love with me?”

“Yeah,” I say, grinning. “Yeah, I am.”

I take his hand and squeeze. This time Baz does smile. He pulls his phone out of his jacket pocket with his other hand and dials a number.

“Bunce – order takeaway. Simon and I have better things to do than talk to more vampires.”

Then he leans over (he gets caught in his seatbelt – I unbuckle it for him) and climbs into my lap.

reason for change:

as above - it’s the wrong time in the narrative for this confession, even though they’re mostly past their shit. and i thought i wanted to write this slightly withdrawn confession where it’s not overblown and we use the confessions they already got from other people, but... i think it’s wrong for this story.

AND.... because i wrote my remix of bazzybelle, i wrote this thing where simon says ‘i love you’ in the middle of a sentence and baz almost doesn’t notice. so that’s good - i got it out of my system there in a much better place - and when i came back to this one, i was like... right... i mean, they can miss lamb because they were kissing, not because they just didn’t want to see him. that makes sense.

(Baz POV)

It’s not long before Simon gets hungry again. By which I mean, I get hungry again. I make Simon drive us back to the centre of Vegas where we can pick up a burrito and a milkshake.

“I’ve wanted one since last night,” Simon tells me, although I notice he still leaves most of it to me.

Last night feels so long ago.

Last FINISH

I can’t believe he loves me. (I can’t believe I didn’t cry when he said it. Although it probably helped that Simon managed to make the declaration so confusing that I wasn’t entirely sure I’d heard him correctly.)

FINISH

Bunce’s idea from earlier that we get other

“I should have thought of this sooner. I could probably spell your wings off permanently.”

I’ve tried before – so has Bunce. It hasn’t worked. Doctor Wellbelove has talked about surgery because nothing he knows has been at all effective. But I’ve always assumed the reason no spells have worked is that Simon wasn’t the one casting them. While it’s clear that’s never going to happen now, there is still this small window of opportunity where Simon’s body at least does have magic. My magic.

I thought Simon would be pleased with this suggestion, but he looks positively alarmed.

“But we already have a spell to hide them.”

“I know.” But it’s extremely inconvenient.

“I can ask Doctor Wellbelove if I change my mind,” Simon says – but I can’t

reason for change:

i’m leaving these weird half sentences and notes to myself in because a) that’s how i’ve stored them and b) i think it’s interesting to see where the thought processes dropped. this is another shot at the wings conversation. also - it picks up the milkshake thing from chapter 2.

i don’t seem to have kept it, but i wrote something where simon kept comparing baz’s fangs dropping to an inappropriate erection. (it seemed funny at the time)

and i never wrote it, but i think the reason i wrote that was because i was planning a version of this restaurant scene where they go to a bathroom and simon bites baz again and it’s just silly and playful after the intense stuff out in the desert. anyway - the low key version is better.

plus - the other thing to say about this chapter, i guess, is that about this time the thing about minors happened in thsi fandom. and i think i was trying to keep this chapter teen-rated so that no one would get upset. i wrote a much more sexual version of the bite. (which is still pretty sexual - i couldn’t get rid of it all) but i stripped back as much as i could and left a content warning at the top of the chapter.

Chapter 4

(Baz POV)

They’re Lamb’s people, right? Highly flammable.”

He makes a call from his watch. Tells whoever is on the other end to, “Let them get inside the house and light it up.”

“You got it, boss,” the person on the other end of the line says before hanging up. Braden grins at me as I stare at him in horror.

“What?” he says. “You think I wasn’t prepared for this?”

He wants to me to know what he’s done – because it’s clever. Because he’s that kind of supervillain. He tells me everything.

He had a truce with Lamb, but he wasn’t stupid enough to trust him. He always knew Lamb might turn on him – when Braden was close to his answers. When the time was right. That’s why the Next Blood has flamethrowers built into the ceiling of this house, the same way other homeowners might have sprinklers. It’s why the walls are lined with stainless steel, so the building doesn’t burn – only the carpets. Only the people.

I don’t even know what happens if Simon dies in my body.

Not that it matters that he’s in my body, because if Simon’s dies, however Simon dies, I’m done. My life is over. My life is Simon.

I have to stop this.

And I can.

I feel the fire crackling to life in my palms. (I was waiting for the right moment to try and escape. This is definitely the right moment.) I see Braden’s eyes widen. But before I can thrust the fire into his face, everything goes dark.

Not completely, dark, though. Just darker.

I’m outside. And it’s dark outside. It’s after midnight. Two days must have passed.

I pull fire into my hand again and throw it at the nearest vampire.

“What was that?” Penelope shrieks behind me. “That wasn’t me.”

She turns towards me and I grin. “Hello Bunce.”

“Baz?”

“Did you miss me?”

reason for change:

oh hey, did you think that the bit where shepard says - why does everyone have machine guns that are no use against vampires?? might be setting something up. well - it wasn’t initially. and then i thought - oh, it could be a sign it’s a trap and wrote this.

but my plan had always been to have baz confront lamb inside the house, pretty much exactly what happens in the fic, and for it to be a short-ish distance to simon. creating this fucking death trap inside the house means that all the bits with the gang and lamb have to be outside the house - and it just made the action really weird. also, it meant that baz - a vampire - literally has to run into a burning house to save his BF. who - as we know - is already saving himself.

(Baz POV)

Everything’s on fire.

Penelope Bunce cast a bubble around me with what I think was the last of her magic and I ran straight into this house, even knowing what Braden was going to do when I got here. (She tried to tell me she’d go instead, but she was clearly exhausted. Anyway, she’s not the one who knows where Simon is. And she’s not his boyfriend, I am.) (I told her to get back to the truck – and then I told Shepard to make sure she actually went. I also told both of them not to trust Lamb, even though apparently he’s been helpful so far. Fortunately I didn’t see him, so I didn’t have to choose between rescuing Simon, and setting my kidnapper on fire.)

It’s hot. And there’s smoke everywhere. Even though I was only led down these corridors a few hours ago, I can barely see where I’m going. I’m just stumbling on

reason for change:

because i realised this made no sense.

(Baz POV)

Fortunately, Simon seems to agree.

He kicks out at the window over the golf course. It cracks loudly. He kicks it again and this time the glass shatters. Falling in jagged pieces to the floor. Letting the night air in.

I cross over to him and look down. It’s only a few stories, I should be able to “Float like a butterfly” although it’s going to need a lot of magic. Magic I might need when we get down.

But Simon Snow doesn’t need magic to fly.

His wings are outstretched behind him, filling the room. He offers me a hand. “Come here?”

I know what he’s planning. I also know he can’t lift me. Not easily.

But making yourself weightless isn’t as difficult as a controlled fall. I cast “Light as a feather” and let him pull me in by the waist.

“Cheat,” Simon says as I wrap my arms round his neck. “I could have done it.”

I hang on as his wings I wrap my arms around his neck.

Tighter, as I feel my feet lift off the floor. As Simon carries me out and up, his wings beating powerfully behind him. I hold on to dear life, to Simon.

I shut my eyes

“I love you,” he says. Clearly. Easily. As though he’s thought about it and he doesn’t have any more doubts.

reason for change:

i wanted the i love you to be in baz’s POV, which is why i wrote this for baz - but it made this final baz section super long, leading into the prologue that also starts with baz. the weightless magic is nonsense and had to go. otherwise, i think i just wanted simon back in the story again. and the flight is his victory.

also - i tried to play myself again and put the ‘i love you’ before the end. KEEP IT TO YOURSELF, SIMON, FOR GOD’S SAKE.

Prologue

(Simon POV)

I’m sitting out on the sand, with my boots off and my jeans rolled up. It’s still early, so it’s quiet. No one else is on the beach besides a few dog walkers. Agatha says the taco-stands are amazing but they don’t open until later.

I can just hear the waves and the birds. I can hear myself think.

I’ve been to the sea before, but not like this. I was always there because I had to do something. Rescue Agatha. Find an underwater city. Try and convince the selkies to give back the ancient totem they’d borrowed from the Mage.

I’ve never just been on holiday. Even this trip turned into a quest almost immediately.

It makes me think maybe I should talk to Fiona about joining the WhatsApp group. Even though I would have to keep dealing with Fiona. (She’s sent someone to deal with Braden. I told her to leave Lamb alone for now, as I don’t think he’s hurting anyone. She said I should mind my own fucking business.)

Maybe I should try and actually go on holiday.

Somewhere quiet.

Somewhere peaceful. (Baz would like that.)

Somewhere with a double bed. (Baz would definitely like that.) (I reminded him I’d seen him naked earlier, while he was in the shower, and I’m pretty sure I heard him destroy Agatha’s shampoo rack by mistake.)

reason for change:

i was really struggling with simon’s bit of the prologue. i wrote most of baz’s final section (as well as the first baz section, which was easy) before i came back and wrote this.

this is me trying to work out what simon might be thinking about. again, i wondered if i’d blown all the revelations simon needed to have about himself in the previous chapters - but i worked it out.

then, after i’d written almost everything, i remembered the rock (it probably feels like i wrote that in just so simon could throw it away in this scene, but i literally thought of that an hour before posting. i wrote the rock so that braden would say ‘your magic’s gone!!’ originally he was going to be looking at simon’s blood, but then baz pointed out in his POV section that his blood wasn’t magic ... so... magic rock).

(Baz POV)

Simon’s eyes are still damp, but he’s smiling. “I don’t know why.”

Crowley, I think I’m crying now.

“That’s because you’re an idiot. Why wouldn’t I?” I wipe my face with the back of my hand. “Listen, I admit I saw this on Oprah, but Maya Angelou once said––”

“When someone shows you who they are, believe them,” Simon says quietly.

Strange. He must have seen that episode too. Not impossible (demonstrably) but I didn’t think it was his kind of thing.

I nod. “I know who you are, Simon Snow. You’re the bravest person I know. The most extraordinary.” Now I’ve started, the words are easier. “You’re the love of my life.”

I have more to say. I could probably talk about Simon’s virtues for hours, if I properly thought about it, but he tackles me before I can. Pressing me down into the sand. The ocean laps at our ankles as Simon kisses me.

“Shit. I’m getting sand in your hair,” he says after a while.

“I don’t care,” I tell him, even though I’ve just blowdryed it.

He doesn’t believe me. (I suppose Simon knows who I am, too.) When Penelope Bunce runs down the beach towards us, Simon is holding my hand and watching me trying to spell grit out of my hair.

reason for change:

i love a cyclical narrative - and although my story doesn’t begin with this quote, wayward son does. plus, greener grass is about showing someone who you are, so i thought it was appropriate. but i also knew it was cheap for baz to have seen the same show, even as i was writing it. and i think the nail in the coffin is that i struggle not to think of ‘you’re the fucking love of my life’ without thinking about the bill nighy storyline from ‘love actually’. would anyone else have thought of that? i doubt it. but it was there for me.

and this kissing scene is just so me - i find it embarrassing how typical it is. anyway, it went to be replaced by a slightly different kiss scene.

and that’s all i have! except that i struggled with the final ending. i sent it to giishu, who sensibly suggested i just leave them on the beach (which was everything i’d written so would totally have worked) (arguably better? we will never know).

but i really wanted this ‘troubles at watford’ ending - to show that they’d learned enough that they could handle anything now, as they were together.

i don’t know how obvious it is, but this is the feeling i was going for -

there’s still something in that, i think. might keep hold of it and think about it a bit more. we know seuss is important to the world of mages.

thanks for reading the fic! and all these bad bits.

#my deleted scenes #carry on #wayward son #my content

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saltandburnsis · 4 years

Text

pilot, pt 2

Characters: Dean, Sam, Reader, townspeople

Age: 20

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2,820

Summary: With Sam finally on board, the three Winchesters begin their search for their father and the hunt in Jericho.

A/N: All dialogue taken from the show will be in italics.

~ ~ ~ ~

You left the gas station with Dean, your drink and bag of chips in hand. Sam was still in the passenger seat, looking through another one of the boxes in the car. You slid in the back and kicked your boots off, leaning back against the door and putting your feet up on the seat. One of Dean’s many, many rules of the car: no shoes on the seats. You grabbed the book you’d been reading during the drive and flipped through until you found the page you’d been on while Dean took the gas pump out of the car.

“So, how’d you pay for that stuff? You guys still running credit card scams?” Sam asked after Dean offered him some of his food. You rolled your eyes. Who was he to judge what had been done your entire life? Sure it was illegal, but—

“Hunting ain’t exactly a pro-ball career,” Dean replied, vocalizing your thoughts.

“Besides, all we do is apply. Not our fault they send us cards,” you added. Sam scoffed, shaking his head.

“Yeah, and what names did you write on the application this time?” Sam continued his line of questioning while Dean walked around and got back in the car.

“Uh…Bert Aframian and his kids Hector and Bertha. Scored three cards out of the deal,” Dean smirked. Sam shook his head again.

“Sounds about right.” He dropped the tapes he was holding into the box. “I swear, man. You gotta update your cassette tape collection.”

“Why?” Dean asked, furrowing his brow.

“Well, for one, their cassette-tapes. And two—“ Sam began going through the tapes again while you and Dean looked on. “Black Sabbath, Motorhead, Metallica? It’s the greatest hits of mullet rock.” Dean grabbed the third tape from Sam’s hand and took it out of the case.

“House rules, Sammy. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole.” With that, Dean slid the tape into the car’s radio and turned the car on.

“You know, Sammy is a chubby 12-year-old. It’s Sam, okay?”

“Sorry, I can’t hear you. The music’s too loud.” Dean revved the engine before pulling out of the parking lot, speeding down the road towards Jericho.

————————

Apart from the music playing the speakers and Sam’s phone calls, the three of you rode in silence. You’d finished your book a few miles back and were trying to catch up on some last-minute sleep before you entered the town and began your work.

“Alright, so, there’s no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue. So that’s something, I guess.” Sam informed you and Dean after hanging up the phone. Dean slowed as he approached the bridge riddled with police cars.

“Check it out,” he said, forcing you to open your eyes and sit up to see out the windshield. You went into your bag, grabbing your fake badge while Dean pulled the car over and parked it. He went into the glove box and got his own then turned back to you, holding his hand out.

“What?” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Sam’s coming with on this one. Let him use yours.” Dean waved his fingers in a “hand it over” motion. Was he serious? Less than a day in, and he was already letting Sam take over your spot. The way things were done for four years now were being thrown out the window.

“No way, dude. Besides, how’s he supposed to get past ‘em when it’s got my picture on it?” Sam looked between the two of you, unsure if speaking up would do him any good with either of you.

“You know they never look that close at those things. Come on.” You narrowed your eyes but relinquished the badge to Dean.

“We’ll let you know what we find out,” Dean assured, handing Sam the badge. “Let’s go.”

“You better,” you warned, sitting back in your seat and crossing your arms as Sam and Dean got out of the car and made their way over to the officers. Of course, you knew that having Sam along meant you’d be sitting out a few interrogations. Hell, you’d be fine with sitting back and letting the two of them go ahead if you were given the option. But, that was the problem. There was no option this time around, no asking your opinion. You were used to Dean calling the shots, but he at least talked to you beforehand. And he’d never kept anything like this from you. You let out a long sigh and grabbed the case papers and notes. Might as well give them another read while you were stuck waiting.

——————

“I’ll bet you that’s her.” Dean pointed ahead at the girl with a stack of flyers in her bag while walking down the street, you and Sam in tow. You put your hand out to stop them and moved in front of them. They’d told you all about the cop’s daughter dating the latest vic on your way into town, and you’d be damned if they conned you out of another questioning.

“This I can do.” You spun on your heel and walked over to Amy. “Hey, Amy, right?” The girl looked at you suspiciously but nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Troy told me about you. I’m his cousin. I’m Y/N.” Your response didn’t seem to lower her suspicion much.

“He never mentioned you to me,” she replied, continuing to walk forward. You chuckled, matching her pace.

“Well, that’s Troy, I guess. I’m not really around much. I live up in Modesto. But, uh, we’re looking for him, too.” You gestured back at Sam and Dean. “The guys back there are my brothers, Dean and Sam, and we’re asking around.” You were interrupted by another girl running up to Amy.

“Hey, you alright?” She asked Amy, looking you up and down once before turning back to her friend.

“Yeah,” Amy nodded, looking down. You cleared your throat and waved your brothers over.

“You mind if we ask you a couple questions?”

——————

You were, uncomfortably, squeezed in the booth between Sam and the wall, Dean on Sam’s other side. Amy and Rachel were sat across from you, Amy relaying everything she knew from the last time she’d heard from Troy.

“I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and he never did.”

“He didn’t say anything strange or out of the ordinary?” Sam asked. Amy shook her head.

“No, nothing I can remember.” Dean leaned forward and looked between the two of them, and you took the opportunity to nudge Sam with your elbow, finally getting a little more space on the cramped seat.

“Alright, here’s the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared—something’s not right. So, if you’ve heard anything…” He trailed off. The girls shifted in their seats, turning to look at each other.

“What is it?” you asked. Rachel spoke up.

“Well, it’s just…I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk.”

“What do they talk about?” You, Sam, and Dean asked in unison. Rachel took a minute to answer, seemingly unsure of how to explain herself. She played with her hands nervously, fidgeting through the tale.

“It’s kind of this local legend. This one girl, she got murdered out on Centennial, like, decades ago. Well, supposedly, she’s still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up…well, they disappear forever.” Dean looked to you and Sam knowingly, earning a nod back from both of you.

———————

Dean began searching on the library’s computer, you seated on his left and Sam looking on from behind. He typed “Female Murder Hitchhiking” before searching, yielding zero results. He removed “Hitchhiking” and typed “Centennial Highway” before searching again. And again, he was met with zero results.

“Let me try,” you said, reaching for the mouse. Dean slapped your hand away.

“I got it.” He started typing again, but you pushed his chair away from the computer and moved yours in front of it. “Dude.” Dean hit your arm then moved his chair next to yours. “You’re such a control freak.”

“So, angry spirits are born out of violent deaths, right?” You started, ignoring his complaint. Sam leaned forward with a “yeah,” signaling for you to continue.

“Well, maybe it’s not murder.” You deleted the “murder” from Dean’s search and replaced it with “suicide.” The page took a minute to load, but you were met with a single result.

“Alright,” you said, clicking on the article. “This was 1981.”

“Constance Welch, 24 years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river,” Sam read over your shoulder.

“Does it say why she did it?” Dean asked.

“Yeah. An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren’t breathing. Both die,” you summarized as you scrolled through the article.

“‘‘Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn’t bear it,’ said husband, Joseph Welch,’” Sam read as you went the next page. Dean moved closer, looking at the large picture taking up the screen.

“That bridge look familiar to you?”

———————

“So this is where Constance took the swan dive,” Dean commented once you’d reached the spot on the bridge. He looked over the railing at the water below.

“So, you think Dad would have been here?” Sam asked, looking first at the rushing. water then at Dean.

“He’s chasing the same story, and we’re chasing him,” you replied, moving away from the railing and walking further down the bridge. Dean followed suit, matching your pace easily.

“Okay, so now what?” He asked again, trailing behind the two of you.

“Now we keep digging ’til we find him. It might take a while.” Exasperation was clear in Dean’s voice. Sam was getting impatient, all too eager to leave you and Dean in the dust once again in order to go back to his life. He wasn’t afraid to let it be known, either.

“Dean, I told you I’ve got to get back by—“

“Monday,” Dean interrupted him, turning around to face him. “Right. The interview. Yeah, I forgot… You’re really serious about this, aren’t you? You think you’re just gonna become some lawyer, marry your girl?”

“Maybe. Why not?” Sam was annoyed. You crossed your arms and stepped closer to him.

“Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you’ve done?”

“No, and she’s not ever going to know,” Sam answered, mimicking your actions and taking a step closer.

“Well, that’s healthy,” you shot back. Dean stepped between you two but kept his eyes locked with Sam’s.

“You can pretend all you want, Sammy, but sooner or later, you’re going to have to face up to who you really are.” Dean turned away and started walking down the bridge again, you right behind him. Sam paused for a moment then followed.

“And who is that?”

“One of us.” Dean continued walking, not turning back to face the younger Winchester. Sam sped up and stood in front of the two of you, blocking your path.

“No, I’m not like you. This is not going to be my life.”

“No, you’re absolutely right, Sam. You’re not like us. Walking away is one thing. but we never would have turned our backs on the family as quickly and as easily as you did,” you were seething. “Regardless, you have a responsibility. We all do.”

“To Dad and his crusade? If it weren’t for pictures, I wouldn’t even know what my Mom looked like.”

“At least you had pictures! You get to know what she looked like and know what she was like. You think I don’t know how shitty it is to lose your Mom and not remember a thing about her? The only thing I know about my mom is how she died. Finding the thing that took her away…you really can’t see how important that is? You’re really just going to throw away all the work that’s been done because we haven’t found that thing?” Tears began to fill your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away. You weren’t about to cry in front of him.

“What difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, she’s gone, and she’s not coming back.” At Sam’s words, Dean grabbed the collar of his jacket and shoved him up against the side of the bridge. He was silent for a minute—eyes boring into Sam’s—before he spoke.

“Don’t talk about her like that.” Dean’s voice was quiet but intense. You’d only heard him use that tone a handful of times. He lowered his hands, but he and Sam continued to glare at each other. You looked down the bridge, body tensing when you saw the figure.

“Dean, Sam.” The two followed your gaze down the bridge and watched as Constance turned to look at you before jumping. You all ran to the spot and looked down.

“Where’d she go?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know,” you responded, continuing to look around until you heard the Impala’s engine roar to life. You all turned to look at the car, her headlights illuminating the dark bridge.

“What the—“ Dean was cut off.

“Who’s driving your car?” Sam questioned. None of your eyes left the Impala. Dean grabbed the keys from his pocket and held them up. A second later, the tires squealed as the car launched forward, heading towards you. You ran down the bridge on Sam and Dean’s tails. As the car got closer, the three of you turned toward the side of the bridge and jumped, sending yourself flying over the side and into the water below.

Sam pulled himself up to a sitting position on the bridge and looked down at the water.

“Dean!” He called out, looking around. Dean crawled out of the water, laying on his back. “Dean, are you alright?”

“I’m super,” Dean called back, weakly raising his arm to give a thumbs-up. Sam let out a sigh of relief but was soon hit with another wave of panic.

“Dean. where’s Y/N?” Sam asked. He didn’t see her in the water or on the shore.

“She’s up there with you.” Dean’s eyes were shut. He hadn’t seen you hit the water as he had, so surely you were safe, right?

“No, she isn’t.” At that, Dean shot up and looked around, calling your name. He was about to jump back into the water to find you when you finally crawled onto the shore and laid down, groaning. You’d hit the water hard, and every inch of you was muddy and sore. You finally opened your eyes to see Sam looking down from above.

“Aw, man. What the hell?” Why’d he get to walk out of this mud-free? Sam started laughing and climbed the rest of the way up onto the bridge while Dean helped you to your feet.

———————-

“Car alright?” Sam asked as Dean looked around under the hood. You finished wiping your face with a spare towel from the trunk and walked to the front of the car. Dean shut the hood and sat down.

“Yeah, whatever she did to it, it seems alright now. That Constance chick—what a bitch!” He yelled. You offered him a second towel and leaned on the car beside him.

“Well, she doesn’t want us digging around, that’s for sure,” you said, wringing the towel in your hands. Sam sat on the other side of Dean.

“So, where’s the trail go from here, geniuses?” Dean threw his hands up in the air in response to Sam’s question.

“Ditto,” you sighed. The three of you sat in the silence of the night before Sam turned to the two of you.

“You guys smell like a toilet.” You narrowed your eyes and threw the soiled towel at him, hitting him in the side of the face. Dean chuckled and finally started using his towel to clean his face off.

——————-

Dean put the card on the book of the motel clerk standing before him. “One room, please.”

The clerk looked back and forth between Dean and the card a few times before speaking up.

“You guys having a reunion or something?” You furrowed your brow and looked at the clerk.

“What do you mean?

“Another guy, Bert Aframian. He came in and bought out a room for the whole month.” You looked at Sam and Dean then got the room number from the clerk. Dean hastily led the three of you down the row of rooms until he found the right one. Dean and you stood watch for Sam as he got to work picking the lock. He was in the room in just under a minute. He stepped inside then turned, reaching out and pulling you and Dean inside behind him.

SPN rewrite taglist: @mrsfortune1306 @marvelous-glims

forever taglist: @griff1ndor @gothsatanicrapunzel @choosemyname @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @not-astounding @sassy-specter @vicmc624 @idksupernatural

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9worldstales · 3 years

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INTERESTING POINTS TO PONDER FROM INTERVIEWS 10

Interviews might not remain forever available or not be easy to find so I’ve decided to link them and transcribe the points I find of some interest so as to preserve them should the interview had to end up removed.

It’s not complete transcriptions, just the bits I think can be relevant but I wholeheartedly recommend reading the whole thing.

And of course I also comment all this because God forbid I’ll keep silent… :P

Title: Ray Stevenson (Volstagg) and Joshua Dallas (Fandral) On Set Interview THOR

Author: Steve Weintraub

Published: Dec 10, 2010

BEST BITS FROM THE INTERVIEW

ABOUT VOLSTAGG AND FANDRAL

Question: Can each of you give us your own take on your character?

Ray: I'm Volstag and what you see is what you get. He's a bon vivant lover of life epicurean goodfellow. He's a god, which helps. He's full of life. He reminds me very much of Falstaff. There's a wonderful innocence to him and the steadfast loyalty of a big Saint Bernard dog. He'd come running through the snow with a keg of beer to save your life. You know, he's got a twinkle in his eye. He's always up for a party. Yeah, that's about it. He's an all-around good egg. Big egg, but a good egg.

Joshua: Fandral. Fandral the dashing, I think he would like to think of himself. A philanderer. He would like to think of himself, I was saying, as the R. Kelley of Asgard. He's a lover, not a fighter. You know what I'm saying? I've seen Trapped in the Closet and Keep It On the Downlow. All that kind of stuff. Fandral is a fun-loving guy. He's a ladies man. It's always debatable how successful he is at that. He thinks he's pretty successful. He thinks that all the ladies love him and, if they don't, then they will soon come around to the idea of loving him. He's fiercely loyal to Thor and the Warriors Three. They look out for each other. They would rather have a good time, but if he's gotta fight, he'll fight. But, yeah. He's a great character to play.

How much back story do we learn about the characters in the film?

Ray: There's not a lot of direct back story but you do get to see them playing around each other a lot.

Joshua: I think from the very beginning when we see these characters you know their backstory. You know immediately what each one is about. Definitely.

Ray: You don't get to find out where we met or how we met or what food is my favourite or what our birth signs are. Nothing like that. The story is just there.

ABOUT HOGUN

Can you tell us about the third, missing warrior and how you both relate to him?

Ray: He doesn't speak much.

Joshua: He's a bit grim. But yeah, he's amazing. He's an amazing actor.

Ray: We all miss him. He's off being a big star in Japan --

Joshua: --Picking up awards. He's nominated for two films this week.

Ray: He doesn't speak much but when he does, everybody shuts up. But also in the healing room where everyone licks their wounds, he's the guy who just goes about his business. It's all very Asgardian. There's lava rocks and a big fireplace. Golden ram's head and all that. It's rich. It's rich.

Joshua: He is Hogun.

ABOUT MIDGARD AND ITS RELATION WITH ASGARD

Part of this seems to be set in a world where you guys fit in perfectly and the rest is very much on Earth.

Ray: Yes, but on Earth we started it all, you see. This is just one of the realms. This is where all the legends come from. All the ruins have gone into myths and Norse mythology. It's all us, love. It was all us before that. They've forgot their place, really. They think, "Oh, you speak our language?" and it's actually, "No, you're speaking ours."

Joshua: We invented it.

ABOUT ASGARDIANS

Could you explain a little what powers you have over the people on Earth? Are you gods?

Ray: Well, we are gods.

Joshua: Compared to humans, Asgardians have superhuman strength and ability, agility. Everything is to the max.

Ray: If a car is in the way, I'll just move it. You know, there's no laser beams out of my eyes.

Can you take a bullet?

Ray: Those little metal things? (mock disgust) We actually have a look at one of those.

Joshua: A bullet? What is that? I would cut that with my Asgardian steel.

MY TWO CENTS

Well, due to the various cuts the Warriors Three ended up a lot more underdeveloped than they were in the original plans. Joshua Dallas speaks of knowing immediately what the Warriors Three are about, but this was actually more true in the cut scene that would take place prior to the coronation, in which the movie basically focused on showing their personalities and characteristics.

You can read how it was meant to be in the old script:

17A INT. ANTECHAMBER - NIGHT 17A

[VOLSTAGG combs his great beard in preparation for the big event. As he does, he's surprised to find a stray GRAPE stuck in the beard. He pulls it out, looks around, then eagerly pops it into his mouth and gobbles it down. FANDRAL checks his reflection in a mirror, smooths out his moustache, gives himself a dashing smile. A PRETTY MAIDEN holds the mirror before him, as other MAIDENS look on dreamily.] FANDRAL Thank you, love. Now who'd like to polish my sword for me? [The giddy Maidens eagerly raise their hands. HOGUN stands staring ahead grimly, his hands folded in front of him, amidst the hustle and bustle of the ATTENDANTS and the ceremony preparations going on around him. A HELPFUL ATTENDANT approaches him and starts to polish his armor. Hogun turns his head, gives him a look. Intimidated, the Attendant quickly backs away. From behind, we see a WOMAN IN CEREMONIAL ARMOR take off her SWORD and set it on a table, then her SHIELD, then several HIDDEN DAGGERS and small, yet intimidating WEAPONS. We reveal that it's SIF, looking radiant. She eyes the weapons on the table.] SIF (to the weapons) I'll miss you.

18 INT. THRONE ROOM - DAY 18

[Colorful CEREMONIAL BANNERS of the Nine Realms adorn the room, crowded with AESIR and REPRESENTATIVES from across Yggdrasil, all BUZZING with excitement. Thor's COMRADES enter and stride to their place of honor at the front of the hall. They are: THE WARRIORS THREE VOLSTAGG has the girth and strength of a Sumo wrestler, with oversized passions to match. FANDRAL, the consummate swashbuckler, is agile, charismatic, and nattily dressed. HOGUN -- dark, sullen, brooding -- a large MACE slung at his side. With them walks the warrior maiden SIF. She's clad in armor, a shield and sword at her side -- a beauty not to be trifled with.] VOLSTAGG I hope this goes quickly. I'm famished. FANDRAL (FEIGNED DISBELIEF) Noooo! VOLSTAGG Are you attached to that pretty face of yours? Because one more word, and you won't be. FANDRAL (to the others) My, we are hungry, aren't we? The others laugh, save Hogun. Fandral turns to him. FANDRAL (CONT'D) Go on, Hogun. Smile. You can do it. Even you, Hogun the Grim. Just one smile. [Hogun stares at him grimly.] FANDRAL (CONT'D) All right, half a smile. Look, forget the smile, just show some teeth. SIF Fandral, is it true the famous Warriors Three are ready to meet any challenge? FANDRAL Name it, Lady Sif. SIF Keep your mouth shut.

or you might consider searching for it on youtube under the name “Thor (2011) Deleted Scene 'The Reception‘“

This interview also tells us a bit about the Asgardians and their relation with Earth/Midgard. Sure, you might have read it in other side materials but I still find it interesting.

#volstagg #fandral #hogun #lady sif #ray stevenson #joshua dallas #asano tadanobu #asgard #midgard #mcu thor #interview #9 worlds interview study

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typicalmidnightsoul · 4 years

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24 for nessian prompts please, preferably with a happy ending. Hope you are doing well ❤️

Hope you’re doing well to anon! Hope you like this (yes it does have a happy ending)

Prompt list here

Send me prompts here

Prompt 24:

“Hello? I miss you”

Life was great.

Nesta now had an amazing life. She had friends who cared for her, game nights every Friday, she was recently prized as one of the most paid and wanted models in the world and she was getting an abundance of marriage proposals and her mother knowing her past heart-break was softly trying to promote the idea of an arranged marriage.

Life was great.

On the outside.

On the inside it was beautiful but there were days when Nesta couldn’t take it anymore. She had moved away from San Francisco and moved back to her family city, Milan. Her mother was the only person who could handle her, the only person who could keep her sisters and their friends away.

Her mother helped her. And she was grateful but when her mother suggested maybe considering dating or maybe looking at marriage proposals sent in from wealthy families she… she zoned out. It made her nauseous that her mother would think that she would let someone else touch her like he used to, that she would let someone hold her and fall asleep, someone who wasn’t him. But she collected herself and told her mom that she wanted to focus on her modelling career.

She hated how much Cassian had embedded himself in her life. She was in another city, another pent house, with other people and she still couldn’t stop thinking about all the beautiful moments they spent. The only thing that stopped her was the bitter memory of why she left San Francisco.

Her cousin Audrey and friend Luna was the one who handled her the most. Luna had gone to San Francisco and got her stuff, her books, and her…things. Then Luna had changed her number, her phone-no she’d just bought her a new phone…because Nesta wasn’t able to delete the pictures, remove the memories or…anything.

So she still had her old phone locked up in the bottom drawer of her dresser. Audrey had piled work on Nesta’s lap, making her forget all about San Francisco, she’d also gone to San Francisco and smoothed over relationships that were jagged from her disappearance. And now, all that was left to do was forget.

But she couldn’t and there lay her problems. She found herself staring at the bottom drawer way too many times.

Did he change? Or did she?

He made her choose, he made her choose over him and her career. He wanted to wake up next to her, he wanted to make her breakfast, he wanted a life together. But she was always travelling for her music videos, for her collections, for modelling, they got a few months together at the best. He wanted her closer to home and now? Now she had to go closer to his home. Literally.

Because Tarquin was making a new fashion line and he’d collaborated with her. The Ocean and Purity Collection.

They were really excited but now they had to take the pictures for the cover and Vogue wanted pictures and they’d decided to do it in fucking Arizona in Phoenix.

As she was about to board her families private jet her mum opened her duffel bag packing stuff in,

“I’ve made your coffee, and your salad make sure you-“

She picked up a phone with a clear cover with a polaroid tucked inside of a man and a woman hugging titled, “My love Cass.”

“What’s this?”

Nesta’s face blanched of colour, “I-I thought that I might need an extra phone if I-“

“Nesta I am your mother, don’t try and hide from me.” Adelaide put her hands on her shoulders, “Be safe, I love you.”

“I love you too.” She picked up her bag and headed out the door.

“Give me a call when you get there and remember to eat your food.”

“Will do.”

---------------

Phoenix was beautiful.

The photo shoot went well but…

She eyed the phone in her bag. Maybe reliving some memories would get them out. She reached for it.

“Don’t even dare.”

She looked up at the person standing next to the door.

“Eris!!”

She hugged him tightly.

“It has been a long time since I’ve seen you. I should probably just move to Milan.”

“You should.” She pulled him to sit down on the couch slinging her feet on his lap.

“So…how are you?” He asked.

“As well as I can be.” She toyed with the ends of her robe.

“When you first met the Knight brothers what did I say?”

She chuckled, “They’re not the type of people to fuck around with, Nes.”

“And what did you do? Date my arch enemy.”

“Eris I am not in the mood for an ‘I told you so moment.’”

“But I will admit that he made you happier than I have ever seen you.” Nesta smiled at how much he cared for her.

“Am I right in thinking my mom sent you here.”

Eris looked at her, amber eyes boring into silver ones.

“Yes she did but not to stop you, she sent me for your own clarity.”

Nesta leaned on her fist, her satin robe shifting.

“Well then give me clarity oh wise one, what shall I do about that?”

“Are you asking the lawyer or the loyal friend?”

“The lawyer.”

“Well the lawyer would tell you to evaluate your choices, sort out your priorities. What do you want more?”

“And the loyal friend?”

“Is it worth it? Is he the worth it? Only do it if you know that he’s not going to hurt you. If you have an ounce of doubt don’t.”

Nesta put a fake smile on her face, “well good thing we’ll never find out if it’s worth it.”

Eris saw right through her, “Make the right choices, Nes. Lord knows you do not need an on and off relationship.”

She sighed.

--------------

She was back in Milan and she’d woken up with a mild headache. They had spent the whole night celebrating her success. Her mum had just come in to call her own for breakfast.

She wrapped a robe on and as she was leaving she eyed the phone again. Fuck it.

She picked it up and turned it on.

She flipped through pictures, after sex-selfies, Disney land pictures, videos.

And then she noticed 6 notifications from her call app.

6 voicemails.

She played them,

“Hey Nes, its Cassian. Just wanted to give you call.”

“Hey, it’s me again, I was wondering if you’d like to meet, to go over everything. I understand if you’re busy.”

“Me again. I just wanted to tell you that I was literally dreaming about who we were back then. Call me back.”

“Hey just relised how selfish I was in the last call. How are you? How’s Milan? Met Luna the other day, she’s…feisty, give me a call back if you’re free.”

“Hello, I know you probably won’t listen to these as I recently found out that you ditched this phone but i-I don’t know why I keep calling. I just wanted to say that if I knew that arguing with you meant losing you forever, that when I went out of the door that I wouldn’t find you when I came back. If I’d known I wouldn’t be able to kiss you again then I would have never done it. I would’ve never had said anything. I am so sorry.”

She looked at the date. It was from 2 weeks ago. And the next one…was from 2 days ago. She pressed it.

“Hello? I miss you.”

She couldn’t take it anymore, her duffel bag was still packed. She went into travel clothes, grabbed her leather trench coat and went out of the door.

Her mom stopped her, “Where are you going?”

“Um, mom I need to-“

Adelaide eyed the phone in her hand. She sighed.

“It seems to me as though you have developed the trait of doing things on a whim from me. Next time you come home bring him, I need to meet the man who made my daughter so happy.”

She kissed her cheek, “I love you mom, I promise I will bye.”

She legged it to the jet.

-----------

Cassian was in Oregon in his uncle’s vineyard overseeing the new architectural designs that was taking place later on in the day. Azriel was helping him out giving him company.

He went up to him,

“This year harvest is going to be good.” Azriel replied.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“You ok?”

Cassian nodded, “When do you think the builders are-“

Azriel gave him a smile-no not him.

Someone behind him. Cassian turned.

And he felt the air being sucked out of him.

Nesta was here, she was…

She stood in a red romper that clung to her and a black leather trench coat on her arm. She dropped it

Her expression was pained.

The she broke into a run the same time he did.

The first contact their bodies made was like rain in a drought.

She wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Nesta, Nesta, Nesta.” His revered whispers sent shivers up her spine.

“You came back.”

She couldn’t take it anymore. His scent overwhelmed her.

She brought her lips down on him.

“I-I don’t wanna be away from you anymore. I’m so sorry for leaving, Cass, it’s just what I do when I need my walls back up I am so-“

“Hush.” He said dropping his face in her hair.

He didn’t care anymore, his supermodel, his baby was back home.

And she was home.

Now or never he told himself.

“Marry me.” He whispered so quietly that Nesta almost didn’t hear him.

Nesta’s eyes widened, but she nodded, “Yes, oh lord yes.”

She kissed him knowing she wasn’t going to get rid of him in a long time.

------------

tags: @skychild29 @aesthetics-11

#nessian #prmpts #nesta archeron #cassian

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