#I have no idea why this is my bugbear | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thesherrinfordfacility · 8 months

Note

LWA: Just some random stuff on a Sunday morning!

Missing scenes: Furfur's book of angels includes "bishop" as one of Aziraphale's jobs, and as we've already seen all the others on the list, even if only in deleted lines (the music tutor was originally in the Rome scene), I would guess we'd see that one as well. Not necessarily a good fit for 1650, though, although since Gaiman has done things like have the Bastille still standing in 1793, anything's possible.

Assumptions about character progression: I think there's a tendency to assume that Crowley and Aziraphale develop or ought to develop towards something "better" as the series progresses, but that's not quite right. They become more /complicated/, which is a neutral--dare I say grey?--concept. The novel and series both deny that good and evil are steady-state aspects of character: you /aren't/ good or evil (or something in-between), you /do/ good or evil (or something in-between). S1 Crowley, as both Gaiman and Tennant have said, has no real character arc, but one of the reasons I think the fandom needs to pay attention to my favorite bugbear, the child murder manipulation subplot, is that it is also about moral complexity. Flood-era Crowley offers the moral absolute "you can't kill kids." Armageddon-era Crowley runs Aziraphale over with a trolley problem in order to duck the more unpleasant reality that if you're fine with someone killing a kid for you, you're fine with killing kids. (I have to say that the sentimental "Crowley wuvs Warlock" headcanon is one of those instances where supposedly-positive fanon constitutes outright character assassination, right up there with "Aziraphale had an affair with Oscar Wilde" [oh, do /not/ get me started on why that's horrifying].) The series is on the side of Flood-era Crowley and Madame Tracy, not the "developed" Crowley. Meanwhile, Aziraphale learns how to lie, which is a skill that can be put to different moral purposes in different contexts. Sometimes it's unambiguously good, like saving Job's children; sometimes it's ambiguous-to-evil, like concealing the Antichrist's whereabouts from Crowley (revealing this knowledge to Crowley would mean more pressure to murder the child, but his rehearsed speech suggests that he's willing to let Heaven handle it, perhaps, which is not a viable moral alternative).

AWCW and being "impressionable": one of the funniest things about Crowley is that in some respects, he's every bit as conformist as Aziraphale is, and sometimes more so. His unreliable narration about the Fall hints very strongly that, as you say, he just went along with the "cool kids"--which, despite his protestations to the contrary, /is/ a moral failure on the terms set out by the novel and series. Even later, both Crowley and Aziraphale rebel in ways that maintain the fiction of the overarching system (the Arrangement) rather than dismantling it entirely. Crowley also enjoys his job, especially in the novel. Which, to be clear, is also a moral failure: slacking off is, hilariously, the most moral choice he and Aziraphale can make. FWIW, for me, neither the novel nor the series are "burn it all down" narratives, in part because they both advance a theory of humanity that suggests burning it all down just gets you the same thing from a different direction. The most radical political ideas are given to a conspiracy theorist and to children, and the Antichrist concludes by rejecting all of them and hitting a literal reset button. Pratchett may have co-written the book from a place of "anger," but anger can lead to a lot of different political practices. Obviously, YMMV.

LWA✨ woke up today and chose analytical violence, what a legend

1. see, i feel like 1650 could work for aziraphale's bishop occupation, even if only mentioned retrospectively. theoretically, he could well have been a bishop before the abolishment in 1646, and exploring the episcopalian polity vs presbyterianism argument of the time could be really interesting narratively (especially if handled somewhat like the resurrectionist episode)... but detail aside, even if by the time we see him in 1650 it's only mentioned casually that he was a bishop "a few years back", i don't think it would be entirely out of field. we don't necessarily need to have everything played out on screen!

2. okay, a lot to unpack here, but essentially i agree. the issue it seems to me is to posit moral absolutes in the first place; there will almost always be a contextual 'except'/'but' clause that comes along with it that turns it on its head.

it's bad to kill children, except when they are the antichrist and could bring about the apocalypse.

it's bad to lie, except when it would prevent unimaginable cruelty and grief being wrought on those that don't objectively deserve it.

it's bad to manipulate and brainwash a group of people, except when there's no lasting harm done, and you were only trying to demonstrate to someone that you love them.

it's good to try to further human medicine and prevent needless suffering, except when doing so puts the desperate as the first to fall in the figurative battlefield.

it's good to forgive a huge debt when you don't have any necessity of it being paid, except when it's primarily borne out of materialistic selfishness.

neither character does anything so completely reprehensible, or alternatively so inarguably irreproachable, that someone, somewhere, can't or won't argue a justification for their actions. we individually, according to our own moral compasses borne of our experiences, may justify or condemn what they've done in the narrative - objectively, the morality behind their actions as we've seen them so far is never absolute.

eg. for me, crowley's plan on killing the antichrist, a child, in the specific context of GO is not the condemnable action here; its the manipulation of getting aziraphale to do it because he, personally, will not do it himself. i understand why, but the thing that i personally consider to be unambiguously bad is not killing the antichrist itself, but instead the fact that crowley considers that the only solution to the hellhound being named - ignoring the 'running away' that crops up later, for a moment - is to underhandedly manipulate someone he cares about into doing it instead of him. however, others may see it differently.

who is to say what is 'better', anyway? what even is 'better'? is 'better' to do things only when it's for the benefit of other people? is doing 'better' for your own self not also worthy of consideration? is 'better' wholly only when doing something that is kind or generous to others, rather than being kind or generous to yourself?

whilst crowley hits certain moral epiphanal milestones before aziraphale does, neither have the full right of it - aziraphale should not hold morality to being plainly black or white, dictated to by a set of absolutes that are so basic and lacking in complexity that they are by all accounts redundant. and crowley should not dismiss alternative choices or solutions just because they do not fit his perspective or reasoning, nor hold that his understanding of morality is the only viable one or is the only one with any weight or validity. ep6 imo succinctly demonstrated this.

both of them are still so young at the flood. aziraphale holds that whatever has been decreed by the source 'of all that is good' must therefore be good (and choosing to not see beyond it) and crowley acts so incredulous that something he sees as being absolutely bad would ever be entertained (despite, you know, having been cast out of heaven for 'just asking questions'....). both of them by the time of job have had a pretty seismic shift in that respective naivety - aziraphale begins to question what god actually intends, and crowley acts stoutly bitter and unsurprised by the assignment. neither reactions are compatible still, they constantly circle each other, and literally indicate that some level of understanding (of god, of her will, of morality 'in the real world' itself - take your pick) is still lacking.

re: Oscar Wilde and warlock hcs (i couldn't let these stroll by without comment)... god, where to start. re: warlock, i never begrudge any hc where it's borne out of a developed fanon background. that's arguably one of the main benefits of having the fanon side of things: to develop a point/event/gap in the story for yours and others' amusement - that's cool! for this example, any fic that gives more insight into their years in warlock's life, and therefore gives legitimacy to crowley having a fondness for warlock - yep, i like that! that's awesome, i could see it as an unrealised narrative, but that's where it firmly stays, for me - in fanon.

but i do get frustrated when certain narrative points are pointedly ignored in order to establish a character trait that would otherwise not exist. crowley in canon does not - to me - demonstrate any fondness towards warlock. he literally proposes the option of his murder! i don't think him refusing to entertain killing warlock himself indicates any sentimentality towards the kid - thats a bit of a stretch, imo - but instead it reflects on his character being, put reductively, a bit of a knob sometimes.

as for aziraphale and oscar wilde... yeeaaah. i think anyone that holds that hc seriously needs to reevaluate the implications of it, and whether or not beyond professional (?) respect for his work aziraphale would willingly want to associate with him... ultimately, i refer back to my above point about "...anything so completely reprehensible...". and, respectfully, perhaps there needs to be a little more separation between michael sheen's filmography and aziraphale's narrative - whether in hc or canon.

3. right, AWCW time. i agree re: his conformity to the 'cool kid group' being something that is deserving of scrutiny on his own morality, but i feel like this only is viable once that association goes beyond a certain point (and an arguably arbitrary one at that). essentially, i think it's possible to still see AWCW's decision to associate with the group as understandable and empathetic. we know from the narrative that a) AWCW starts hanging out with them at some point, and b) that lucifer et al. are in the end considered bad people. but were they actually bad at the time that AWCW comes across them? if they were, did AWCW himself know? we don't really have enough narrative to reliably confirm this.

but we do know that AWCW fell, and it's therefore rather likely that he continued associating with them past a point where he would have known that they were Bad News Bears. in the beginning, he may have just been glad that these people seemed to listen to him and make him feel valid for having questions - that's understandable. but as time goes on, as lucifer etc. hypothetically get more and more questionable in their actions and beliefs, AWCW presumably choosing to stick with them, possibly even defending them, confers the deserving of negative judgement onto AWCW in turn (presuming there's no element of coercion or blackmail involved, mind you).

i like the point you raise of aziraphale and crowley respectively not conforming to their inherent purposes (being an angel or demon respectively) when it benefits them personally, being an almost accidental 'good thing', especially when the story puts forward that, however you look at it (ie. whether bc they are lazy, or it poses more excuses to see each other - immaterial), the arrangement is entirely self-serving. 10/10 narrative irony. but this is kinda going back to one of our first asks, LWA - it is for me once again the key difference between rebellion, and revolution:

(never been more grateful for making the LWA masterpost, thank you past-me)

so whilst i agree to a certain point that the 'burn it all down' narrative may not be a viable option, or is at the very least a reductive one, i think that the question is what it is replaced with, if at all. adam hit the reset button and put earth back to how it was, because what humanity and earth was - by my interpretation - was just fine as it is. it's not perfect, but not worthy of being destroyed in totality.

so what can we say about heaven? is it a mirror to earth in this respect? i don't think it is. heaven may well have been intended originally as a neutral party with the best of intentions, and then pigeonholed into being the 'good side' following the fall, but it has been allowed to fester and corrupt. maybe we will see more in s3 that there are other angels that feel that heaven as a system is flawed (personally, i think we see this in saraqael's introduction to GO, but that's just my interpretation of the character so far), and maybe those angels will represent the part of heaven that is still redeemable.

so okay, yeah, maybe heaven shouldn't be completely gutted and dismantled, but it is not in the same place as earth is at the time of adam's reset. earth and humanity were arguably the innocent parties in their prospective destruction, whereas heaven has sown their own seeds for it. i don't think the two are entirely comparable. heaven does need a major realignment, and i personally don't think this can happen without some form of systematic reform, without revolution (especially if the wider fandom's evaluation of metatron is true come s3!). it needs reworking with an alternative system that works to be fairer, and removes any binary rhetoric of good vs. evil. don't ask me for the minutae of how this should happen, because i have zero idea (well, very little, anyhow), im not that clever.

but this is what i hope aziraphale will actually be successful in come s3. he can't just - in anger at the injustice of it all - set heaven on fire and walk away from the ashes; it will invite for the original regime to rebuild or something worse to take its place. that being said, it's not just him that needs to do it - to build an alternative to heaven in his own image is equally questionable. again, this is the suggestion that i liked in the armageddon 2.0 meeting in ep6; the idea of democracy in heaven, even if the current board is less than ideal (and the point could poetically hark back to the hypothetical 1650 flashback...?).

#“just random stuff” no you came for the throat LWA own it #i had written like another 4 paragraphs on the anger thing but it got personal really fast so i opted to delete it #youre welcome for being spared from it #once again never sure if ive ever made an Actual Point in my LWA responses but make of it what you will #good omens #ask #the fall/the great war spec #AWCW spec #heaven theory #s3 narrative spec #crowley meta #aziraphale meta

34 notes · View notes

kudzuoath · 7 months

Text

Bullying the Wizard

Karlach tells Gale he's being an idiot.

Direct sequel to this.

“It’s amazing how much of a perfect arsehole you’re being about all of this,” said Karlach.

She’d dropped beside him and draped an arm over his shoulders. In any other context this might have felt like a threat, but since stabilizing her engine, their wildheart friend had been touching anything and anyone who gave her half a chance. Usually with a giddy and contagious giggle. Even Astarion had deigned to allow her to vigorously shake his hand — after ducking an enthusiastic and ill thought out hug first.

“Elaboration would be most welcome,” he said, eyeing the arm about his shoulders. “Considering I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re referring to.”

The tiefling leaned into him, nearly sending him off the log and into the dirt. He had to drop his book and hold on to avoid it. “Karlach!”

She grinned at his aggrieved tone, but did indeed lay off on the leaning. Her grin quickly morphed into a more serious expression — but being who she was there was still a hint of cheer in her face. He had no idea how she did it. He’d never taken his impending doom with as much aplomb.

“You’re looking at me the way the proprietor of the Yawning Portal looks at a set of green adventurers who want to see the pit. Should I be worried?”

“Maybe. Don’t know yet.” Karlach removed her arm so she could cross them. “You were left in camp this morning. Bit unusual, that.”

Blood was rushing in his ears. “Well, who am I to question the decisions of the leader of our merry band of miscreants? It seems she found Astarion more needful.”

“Uh-huh,” said Karlach. “Listen, everyone’s noticed the two of you are on the outs. You ought to try actually, you know, talking? Like adults?”

“I assure you there’s quite nothing to talk about,” he said, busying himself with retrieving his book and dusting it off. “Tensions are bound to run high given our current locale. And considering the manner of enemy we’ve found ourselves facing off with, I can understand why one might prefer someone better at sneaking about to a purveyor of the arcane seeing as – personal connections aside – I have very little to do with the divine.”

“The cracking of your joints is a bit of a give away.”

“Jest if you must, but I distinctly remember your heart serving as a glowing orange target when we tried to free that woman from the hag’s lair.”

“Oh, ouch!” She clapped a hand to her chest dramatically. “Someone is feeling prickly tonight.”

“I give as good as I get,” he said. “Now if you’ll excuse me –”

“Oh no you don’t, soldier –” and there was her tail blocking him in. “I’m not done.”

Annoyance was beginning to temper his mortification. He settled back on the log with a put upon sigh. “Truly, I don’t see how it’s your business, Karlach.”

“The two of you are some of the best friends I’ve got,” she said, leaning in. “And neither one of you knows the bell end of a bugbear when it comes to talking about things. Temperance’s lips oughta have buttons sewn on. And you’re so set on burying yourself while you’re still breathing you’ve stopped seeing anything other than a bloody tombstone!”

Gale stared at her.

“I’m not just gonna sit by and watch the two of you avoid each other until we’re all six feet down, yeah? Seeing as you’re so set on taking all of us with you for the sake of –” and here Karlach visibly restrained herself from saying… something. He had the sense it was unflattering. “-- For the sake of a goddess who doesn’t give a rat’s left hand for you.”

“What Mystra asks of me is not something she does lightly –”

“How d’you know?” Karlach interrupted. “I didn’t see any gods traipsing about camp, just that grandpa who ate all the cheese wheels we’ve found since we crash landed. Second hand knowledge, mate.”

“Elminster would hardly lie to spare my feelings on the matter,” Gale bit out. “And Mystra is not some – some tyrannical wicked goddess. She is the mother of all magic! All that is beautiful in the fabric of the world! If she says the only solution to this Absolute lay in my sacrifice – well who am I to question? Something that has historically gone very poorly indeed, I might add.”

“Okay, fine, set that aside or whatever. If you’re living on borrowed time why are you wasting all of it?”

“I hardly think there’s so much time as all that left to me, Karlach –”

“Left to us,” she pointed out.

A little chill slid down his spine. How easily she took their impending demise at his hand. It had to be worth it. If it eliminated the Absolute… it had to be.

“Given the half chance, I would endeavor to do all I could to see as many people as possible are clear of the blast before I… go to meet my goddess. She would not… she would not ask for so much death without cause.”

Karlach frowned at him. “Sounds like she’s as much of a bitch as Zariel. She never asked for things lightly either. ‘Cept for when she did.”

Gale swallowed, but did not rise to the bait. His own death was easily accepted, terrifying a concept as it might be. It was all he deserved. But the thought of so many others… of his… his friends… that clawed at him as surely as the orb had. At least Elminster was well clear of them by now. And Tara and his mother were safely in Waterdeep. Though that was a hollow comfort. So too the knowledge that nearly everyone in camp was living on borrowed time anyway.

There was a burning pain under his ribs. Radiating up into his neck and spiraling around his skull. He set his hand over the place where his folly slept, grimacing. Stable, yes. But the pain lingered, and bit at him.

You deserve no less, Gale. Grin and bear it.

“What are you asking of me Karlach?”

The tiefling huffed, but when he looked at her he saw concern creasing her brows. “Tell her how you feel. Obviously!”

“And what would that accomplish?” he said. Perfectly rational. “I would not put the onus of my feelings on her for the sake of my comfort.”

“Gods, you’re thick! ‘Onus’ what does that even mean – no, don't answer.” She blew out a rough, frustrated sigh. “Tell her. Seriously! You have to know she feels the same way, right?”

“Not after all I’ve done to put her off. Even the deepest well of patience will eventually run dry and I can only imagine I have reached its not insignificant depths. It’s too late –”

“Bollocks,” Karlach insisted. “If I had someone I sure as the hells wouldn’t be waiting to kick it before I kissed them. But then I’ve been real short on kisses since I was dragged into Avernus by the one horn. C’mon, where’s the cocky mage who told me to my face he could be smooth enough for two?”

“Several weeks and morbid missives behind us,” he said sharply.

“Ugh,” she groaned. “Look – just – say something, Gale! Don’t let all this end with the two of you avoiding each other. If I can’t be happy, at least my friends should be, damn it!”

Her voice cracked there at the end. A dagger to his heart. Karlach might have been the best of all of them. And hearing even that little crack in her cheer…

“I shall try,” he said softly. Hand going once more to his chest, clutching at the fabric there. The razor edge of pain had dulled to a red throb. Easier to ignore. “It’s – the very least of what I owe to my friends. To you.”

Karlach smiled at him. “Damn right it is. Now. What’s for dinner? I’m starved.”

Gale couldn’t help laughing at the abrupt change in subject. “I’m afraid the vittles leave much to be desired in a place as blighted as this – however, my skills are more than up to the challenge. Tell me! What do you crave?”

“Well…”

Karlach followed him as he got started on the nightly meal – and only tried to help a little before raising both hands in surrender to his unquestionable prowess. A hard little knot in his throat refused to loosen itself – but the warmth of the fire and his second favorite tiefling soothed.

The question now though – how to approach Temperance?

#bg3 #gale #gale/tav #gale of waterdeep #my writing #not certain I got Karlach's voice down for this

25 notes · View notes

veliseraptor · 1 year

Note

🔥10🔥

worst part of fanon: my god, anon. I'm looking at this like (a) you want me to pick one? I have a fucking list and (b) this feels like I am a wolf looking at a suspicious looking pile of leaves and going 'hmmm that seems like a bad idea to step there.'

and yet I'm going to do it anyway. I posted the meme! no one but myself to blame here.

but I am going to go ahead and do a list, because, you know, why not. it's 10:43 pm and I'm feeling reckless.

Nie Huaisang as champion of the common people and really just a good guy if you're not Jin Guangyao. Honestly pretty much any cultivator other than (a) Jin Guangyao, at least somewhat, or (b) Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen as champion of the common people. This is not a novel about people who care about ordinary people. It's just not. In fact it's sort of a plot point that it isn't.

This isn't, like, the worst, but it is starting to bug me: Pete is turned on/aroused by the torture of other people. It's actually important to me that Pete is largely indifferent to violence against other people. He doesn't enjoy it, it's just a part of life, almost inevitable. The "vegaspete who murder together stay together" thing just doesn't work for me.

Maglor and Maedhros, the nice Feanorians who were really not on board with all the killing that all their bad and evil brothers were doing. I'm exaggerating, but not that much.

I'm not inherently opposed to it in all cases, but I feel like the predominance of femdom Wen Qing is something where I'm a little like...other people have dissected the whole thing where in f/m ships sometimes it seems like it has to be pegging to be valid (not naysaying pegging! I've written it myself and whatever floats your kink), but here in particular I feel like it pigeonholes Wen Qing into this role where she's the mean but cool (sometimes lesbian but mostly if she's a background character) friend who TAKES CHARGE during sex because she's STRONG and...idk. Give Wen Qing a day off. a bath and a massage and someone to pamper her just a little. I think that would be nice for her.

Relatedly, though this feels less like fanon and more like just a common fandom kink, I'll throw in mean dom Xiao Xingchen. Don't get me wrong, I like it when Xiao Xingchen is a little bitchy and I certainly think he should get to be angry, an always perfectly forgiving Xiao Xingchen who will never be upset at people is a bugbear of mine too. But I just cannot see Xiao Xingchen being mean. I'm not saying I can't see him as a dom. I can, I've written it, or at least shades of it. But mean? Nope. I feel like he would cry if he attempted it.

that's...probably enough to be going on with, I think. and with that I'm going to bed, we'll see if I'm chewing off my own foot to get out of a leghold trap in the morning I suppose

#conversating #anonymous #lise's aggressively bitchy opinions about irrelevant and unimportant matters #lise memes #i mean what mostly it boils down to is 'when i feel like people are simplifying a character into a more boring version of themselves'#not entirely but that is the common thread for most of them

43 notes · View notes

strangerthingsfanfics · 2 years

Text

One Crazy Game

Pair: Eddie x reader (dating)

Summary: In the middle of the campaign. It’s neck and neck between the dungeon master and everyone else. Who’s gonna pull ahead?

Warning: slight mentions of sex

‼️NOT MY PHOTO‼️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s finally the end of school and you know what that means time for dungeons and dragons. Y/N, Dustin, and Mike walked down together. Dustin kept talking about strategies on how to pull a head and Mike, was agreeing on some parts. Dustin, wants to play a safe strategy while Mike, wants to hit Eddie head on.

“Y/N what do you think safe or head on?”

“Why not both? We combine both strategies together. We can move certain characters ahead and Eddie can attack them. While saving our strongest ones for last.“

“I don’t know. Maybe, but what if we do this instead-.”

“Do what instead?” Eddie said.

“Uhhh we were planning on pranking Steve. We thought of one idea and it’s kinda dumb.” Y/N said.

“Sure you are.”

“Where’s Lucas?”

“Basketball tryouts.” All three said together

Once everyone was present the game started. The game started off strong, but everyone playing against Eddie was losing.

“You know it’s not too late to walk away.”

“Guys let’s huddle together and think of a strategy.”

“So what are we gonna do? We’re getting our asses kicked over. We need at least one or two good strategy. Does anyone have any ideas?”

“We can attack from the darkness or focus on our fire. If we attack from the darkness we can take out some of Eddie’s grung by darkness. We can attack them-.” As Mike was talking he was cut off by Dustin.

“What if Eddie’s grung are holding torches?”

“Then we can extinguish our torches we can still attack them. They can only see right in front of them. If that does work then we can focus on your fire. We can get each fighter attacks and hits each a separate bugbear, there’s like 3 bugbear left standing 17 average hit points. If we hit them on their own turn we can strike back with 33 damage”

“That’s not a bad idea at all Y/N, let’s do it!”

They went through with extinguishing the torches first and only got 10 points. They need 41 more points to be tied up with Eddie.

They did the other plan and caught up with Eddie.

“What! How!”

“Well played everyone. Till next time.”

Everyone packed up and left while Y/N stood behind to helped Eddie.

“You’re a good player Y/N, but you could be better if I teach you some more.” Eddie said while smirking.

“Maybe I could use some more practices especially from the dungeons master. Before the next meeting we can hangout and you can show me some more techniques.”

“That sounds like a good idea. Maybe you should come over tonight and I can show you some techniques in bed tonight.”

“I should maybe I can beat the dungeon master in bed.”

“I doubt that, but I would like to see you try sweetheart.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I really want to make a part two of this. I’ve written smut before but it was terrible

#eddie munson x y/n #Eddie Munson x reader #stranger things.#Eddie Munson #mike wheeler #dustin henderson

181 notes · View notes

saltybutsad · 1 year

Text

why hello welcome home fans- i think we need to work out a ship name for frank frankly and eddie dear! cuz i desire to have a tag to look at those little guys with <3 use this post to give suggestions, plus here’s my ideas

name combos (their names don’t work that well dhdbjd):

freddie

frandie

edfrank

frankeddie

edrank

dearly

some more fun stuff:

travelbug

humbug

billbug

bugbear

flypaper

feel free to add on! some of these are shit but i figured too many is better then too few dhdbjdbd

#salty speaks #welcome home #welcome home arg #frank frankly #eddie dear #welcome home frank #welcome home eddie

32 notes · View notes

incorrectwutheringheightsquotes · 2 years

Text

When people say Heathcliff doesn’t have a sense of humor I am like 🤨. Like, he isn’t a comic genius, but he definitely has a sense of humor and he is witty.

““Unhappy in your conjectures, sir,” observed my host; “we neither of us have the privilege of owning your good fairy; her mate is dead. I said she was my daughter-in-law, therefore, she must have married my son.”

“And this young man is-”

“Not my son, assuredly.”

Heathcliff smiled again, as if it were rather too bold a jest to attribute the paternity of that bear to him.”

(Chapter 2)

“‘My young lady is looking sadly the worse for her change of condition,’ I remarked. ‘Somebody’s love comes short in her case, obviously; whose, I may guess; but, perhaps, I shouldn’t say.’

‘I should guess it was her own,’ said Heathcliff.”

(Chapter 14)

““God! what a beauty! what a lovely, charming thing!” he exclaimed. “Haven’t they reared it on snails and sour milk, Nelly? Oh, damn my soul! but that’s worse than I expected—and the devil knows I was not sanguine!”” (…)

“Nelly, if you be tired you may sit down; if not, get home again. I guess you’ll report what you hear and see to the cipher at the Grange; and this thing won’t be settled while you linger about it.””

(Chapter 20)

“And the best of it is, Hareton is damnably fond of me! You’ll own that I’ve outmatched Hindley there. If the dead villain could rise from his grave to abuse me for his offspring’s wrongs, I should have the fun of seeing the said offspring fight him back again, indignant that he should dare to rail at the one friend he has in the world!”

Heathcliff chuckled a fiendish laugh at the idea. “

(Chapter 21)

““I was not aware there were eavesdroppers,” muttered the detected villain. “Worthy Mrs. Dean, I like you, but I don’t like your double-dealing,” he added aloud. “How could you lie so glaringly, as to affirm I hated the ‘poor child’? and invent bugbear stories to terrify her from my door-stones? Catherine Linton (the very name warms me), my bonnie lass, I shall be from home all this week; go and see if I have not spoken truth: do, there’s a darling! just imagine your father in my place, and Linton in yours; then think how you would value your careless lover if he refused to stir a step to comfort you, when your father himself entreated him; and don’t, from pure stupidity, fall into the same error. I swear, on my salvation, he’s going to his grave, and none but you can save him!””

(Chapter 22) (bolded part mine)

““I shall,” said Catherine. “Linton is all I have to love in the world, and though you have done what you could to make him hateful to me, and me to him, you cannot make us hate each other. And I defy you to hurt him when I am by, and I defy you to frighten me!”

“You are a boastful champion,” replied Heathcliff; “but I don’t like you well enough to hurt him: “

(Chapter 29)

““Is there same new reason for this banishment?” I enquired. “Tell me why you are so queer, Mr. Heathcliff? Where were you last night? I’m not putting the question through idle curiosity, but-”

“You are putting the question through very idle curiosity,” he interrupted, with a laugh. “

(Chapter 34)

Am I dying of laughter? No, but I am smiling, and I wonder which book you must have read to think that this guy doesn’t have a sense of humor and takes himself entirely seriously. Half of what makes his character for me are these lines.

#wuthering heights #tbf Nelly’s narration is also a factor in making these quotes great #muttered the detected villain

88 notes · View notes

simplepotatofarmer · 2 years

Note

hello! i was wondering what would you think would be the doomsday trios races and (sub)classes and why, if dsmp was a dnd campaign? :D

(i'm very much into dnd and i love your takes and analysis posts so much so i just had to ask that! hope you have a great day <3)

okay, this took me awhile because i was trying to make it as accurate as i possibly could though in the end, it's based on my thoughts and opinions.

phil: fallen assimar oath of devotion paladin. you gotta strike a balance between phil's clear code and dedication (staying to help rebuild new l'manberg after the 16th) and willingness to do great violence (doomsday). like, he regrets it but he believes it was necessary to make sure no one else dies for a country.

techno: hobgoblin (though i'd also say bugbear is tied for race) battlemaster fighter with either interception or tunnel fighter for fighting style. tbh, techno is someone i could also see being a paladin, i won't lie. but for diversity sake and the idea that techno is such a skilled fighter, that's what i'm going with.

dream: human (or changeling) undying patron warlock, pact of the blade. listen. this is him. it just is. pact of the blade over pact of the tome because of nightmare. undying patron because of things like spare the dying, etc. i just see dream as a warlock, with perhaps a few levels in fighter from before, giving him the ability to wear heavier armor and use a shield.

#loyal answers things #technoblade #dreamwastaken #philza #dsmp headcanon #doomsday trio #dream smp

96 notes · View notes

spellshite · 1 month

Text

I'm thinking of doing a very stupid thing that would make me redo like uhhhh 7 hours of gameplay for my evil durge run.

And now that I'm back working I can't really afford to waste time since I'll have less free time (and energies) for playing.

After Isobel I did: meazels, masonry guild, gerringothe, thisobald, freed the gnolls, offed he who was, met the absolute and got out the oubliette, nabbed the tadpole crate and made the adept guarding them go take a swim, got big discounts from the bugbear seller in moonrise...

BUT- what if I go back to before Isobel, free the prisoners, help Halsin with the curse... AND after helping everyone go to Isobel and kill her? I just want to be sure that Wulbren dies. And the undead spawning in the save thaniel quest are free exp.

#bg3 #bg3 shitpost #baldur's gate 3 #me and my fucking polls #i can't decide by myself bc i surely will do something stupid

6 notes · View notes

cryforthemoon44 · 2 months

Text

My (possibly) unpopular symphonic metal opinions:

1. Epica are the best symphonic metal band and have been for a while.

2. About 80 percent of underground symphonic metal bands try too hard to imitate the more popular symphonic metal bands and they end up sounding like clones of Epica and Nightwish.

3. Nightwish were in their musical peak in the Tarja era but have consistently made great music after as well.

6. My biggest bugbear with symphonic metal by far is how much bands change their singers. If the singers don't write the music it's not so bad (ie. Nightwish), but when the singer has a role in the songwriting process, musical direction and is seen as a co-leader it really pisses me off when they are fired or are coerced into leaving the band, which happens all too often in symphonic metal.

4. As great as Floor sounds in Nightwish, her voice was better utilised in her older bands (After Forever and Revamp).

5. I have no idea why band members who are married decide to form a band together. It never ends well (see Leave's Eyes for an example of this).

The only times I am OK with prominent band members being fired is if 1) they deserve to be fired, or 2) they create a band which is better than the one they were fired from (eg. Mark Jansen formed Epica after he was fired from After Forever). A huge part of many band's identities is their singer(s). You cannot seriously say that Delain is the same band without Charlotte for example, since Charlotte had a role in the songwriting process there! She was a crucial part of the band. If Sharon left Within Temptation the band wouldn't be WT anymore, same if Simone or Mark left Epica. And don't get me started on how Xandria and Sirenia have gone through about 7 and 5 singers respectively and have both treated many of them like shit. It's gross.

#metal #symphonic metal #epica #nightwish #simone simons #floor jansen #mark jansen #after forever #xandria #sirenia #charlotte wessels #tarja turunen #sharon den adel #leaves eyes

5 notes · View notes

dickplinko · 2 years

Text

MY LAST HEADCANON POST DID SUPPER WELL AND PEOPLE LOVED IT SO IMMA MAKE ANOTHER ONE

I have fun ideas but am awful at writing so you get this instead of fanfics

Some of these carry over from the first post so here’s that link for context

•Steve needed to replace the brakes in his car and Eddie helped him and taught him how to change brakes. Steve kept rubbing the grease from his fingers on Eddie. He thought it was cute.

•Steve doesn’t really understand D&D so he says the most unhinged shit “Can I befriend the Bugbear and give him chips” “I eat their kneecaps for a snack” “I will impale them like a kebab” “I will throw my shoe” “I will turn him into a grill” “Steve they don’t have grills” I don’t care roll for grill”

• Steve really likes Eddie’s hair when it’s put up into a messy bun with hairs flying everywhere and it sagging on the back of his head. Eddie noticed this and started wearing it like this

•Eddie skates with Max sometimes and they have chaotic hart to harts and talk about their partners

•Max is blind now and has a service dog his name is bucky and it’s named after robin because she was the first girl that max ever met who was confident in her queerness and max really looks up to her

•Lucas and El braid max’s hair while she’s in a coma. Nancy and Robin visit her quite a bit in the hospital and are there when she wakes up.

• Eddie stops wearing his bandanna when he gets with Steve. Steve is clueless to hanky code but he notices Eddie doesn’t wear it anymore. He asks about why Eddie stopped wearing it and Steve makes this face 😳

• Steve knew he liked men for years and never really thought much of it bc he never met one he was interested in dating until Eddie. He never really tried to hide the fact that me was bi. Everyone is shocked when he came out and he is confused because he thought everyone knew

• the fruity four volunteer at hospitals during the aids crisis because of the lack of medical care for gay men. Eddie gets really scared that him and Steve are going to get hatecrimed because of the homophobia that is running rampant. The four protect each other in public. Nancy started carrying one of her guns in case something bad happens. They four go to protests and try to educate people in Hawkins about the crisis.

• Dustin starts bringing aspects of Eddie’s style into his own. He starts wearing a jacket and it’s covered in a bunch of nerdy patches and pins. Eddie is proud

• Eddie fucking eats up Nine Inch Nails when they start making music He loves them so much. Him and Steve have sex to closer.

• Steve really likes ABBA Eddie thinks it’s cute how into the music Steve Gets

•Eddie takes Steve to concerts with him and he sits on Steve’s shoulders. Steve gets really into rock music and loves going to shows. One day Eddie gets really hurt in the pit and Steve carries him out of the crowd and to the car. When they get home Steve cleans all his wounds and Eddie falls asleep in Steve’s lap while he plays with his fair

•When The Lost Boys comes out Eddie loves it so much. Steve and Eddie talk about how hot the vampires are together

• When Nancy and Robin first start dating Robin like never shuts up and just always is flustered and babbles all the time. The first time they kiss Robin I’d on a tangent and Nancy can’t stop thinking about how cute Robin is and how much she wants to kiss her girlfriend. Mid sentence Nancy just leans over and kisses Robin cutting her off

•Robin geeks out to Nancy about movies all the time they watch movies together and Robin lays in her girlfriends lap while she plays with her hair. Robin just talks about the movie and info dumping to Nancy. It’s so peaceful and Nancy loves listening to Robin talk about things she loves

•Steve and Eddie’s room is covered in posters just like Eddie’s room. It’s a mix of movies, bands, and nerdy things. It’s of thing they both like. Metallica next to ABBA, WASP next to Billy Idol. Back to the future next to Halloween. Breakfast club next to Lost boys. There’s corroded coffin posters. Will made some D&D pictures that are hanging on the wall. There’s pictures of the party on the wall. It’s a personal eclectic space and they love it.

•Eddie loves reading and Steve loves listening to Eddie read. They make a habit of reading before bed Steve in Eddie’s lap while his voice reads. Eddie reads with the same theatrics as D&D. They read The Hobbit, Stephen King, Orwell, And Vanuget. Steve loves hearing Eddie do different voices and the suspense he builds

•The whole hang goes to Eddies shoes and gets super into them. Mike and Dustin even join the mosh pit with Steve looking out for them of course. Steve teaches them proper mosh etiquette.

•Steve ends up getting really into rock music because of Eddie. He gets a bunch of band shirts and makes a jacket of his own. Steve wears a lot of muscle tees and he cuts the sides really low. A flannel wrapped around his waist Eddie loses his mind over this.

•Robin and Nancy go on picnic dates and sometimes they bring max for bonding

•When max got out of her coma she was really struggling with her disability and Robin and Nancy helped her and Max stayed with them for a bit. Lucas and El were over at their place every day to visit.

• Nancy and Robin also get a trailer and there’s is right next to Steve and Eddie’s

• the four of them have a separate walkie channel that they use in addition to the one the whole party uses. They always have chaotic conversations talking about movies. It's a lot of robin and Eddie yelling at each other or steve and nancy talking about their dipshit partners.

#steddie #stranger things #the fruity four #byler #netflix #ronance #robin buckley #steve stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #poly ship #poly ellumax #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things 4 #st4 #dustin henderson #stranger things season 4 #stranger things 4 spoilers #headcanon

48 notes · View notes

honeysmokedham · 10 months

Text

TITTLE: Psych WHEN: June 25th LOCATION: Mrs. P's Car / The wife's house / The Zoo PARTIES: @mortemoppetere @honeysmokedham SUMMARY: Taken place right after Dead Bear Walking, this is the thrilling conclusion to the question, did the bear do it? CONTENT WARNINGS: None!

Nora made sure to force Emilio to stop and look at the penguins before they made their way back to Mrs. P’s car. Mrs. P jumped when the duo got themselves back into her minivan, and Nora relayed where they needed to go. The mini van started going, the heavy metal Mrs. P had been jamming to a soft accompaniment to the car’s engine. First thing was first, Nora slumped in her seat, feet pressed against Mrs. P’s seat as she pulled out her phone and googled French to English translation. It took a few guesses of how to spell the word, but Nora knew which one was the correct one when she got there. “That asshat.” Nora jolted up in her seat, turning to face Emilio. “He called me a bitch, can you believe that? Misogyny and a streaker? Name a worse duo.”

Phone tucked safely back in her pocket, and body not safely buckled into the car, Nora was looking at Emilio. “What’s your deal with him?” Nora asked, unsure which words would express ‘hey why didn’t you want me to bully him?’ properly. A thought struck her too late, after she asked the question. What if that was one of his one-night stands? Nora knew Emilio fucked. Emilio himself had mentioned that multiple times. It didn’t mean Nora wanted to hear about it. What if she was just pulling out a bag of worms, she didn’t want the answer to.

“Fucker knows my name too.” Nora slumped back into the seat. “Do you think I can blackmail him so he doesn’t turn me in?” With each taste of the world she wanted to live in, Nora hated Eleanor Beatrice Pine more and more. What the self-centered youth obviously didn’t realize was that Kaden had no clue about her famous beginnings or her missing personage. “Do you think illusions are captured on video? I’ve never checked. I could make an illusion of him naked at the zoo. Mutually assured destruction.”

—

The penguins were weird. Emilio spent a moment staring at them as Nora dragged him to their enclosure, eyes narrowed as they waddled around on the ice. Strangely, he was almost disappointed when Nora pulled him away, but they had work to do. The woman in the minivan seemed less than pleased to see them, but Emilio tuned her out as he settled into the backseat beside Nora, leaning against the back of it with a sigh. He’d say that had been a close one, but… He wasn’t sure it was over yet. Kaden had to know what Nora was now, and Emilio hadn’t yet determined what exactly he’d do with that information. He didn’t like the not knowing.

Nora’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he glanced over. “Next time, call him a pinche pendejo.” It’d be fine for her to insult a ranger in a language he didn’t speak, probably. Better than her insulting him in English, in any case. At her question, he glanced up towards Mrs. P driving the van. Rather than respond verbally, he pulled out his phone, typing out a text and sending it to her: “Ranger.”

She was worried about Kaden turning her in and, truthfully, Emilio had no idea if the fear was one she should carry. He didn’t know much about Kaden beyond the obvious; that was part of the problem. “I have a video of him petting a cart like it is an animal,” he told her with a shrug. “I don’t think you need more than this. But I’m not sure you need it at all. I’m not worried about him turning you in.” He was more worried about Kaden killing her than anything. He remembered their conversation about bugbears, remembered how Kaden had specified that he went after ‘dangerous’ beasts only to list everything Nora did as ‘dangerous.’ Was it enough for Kaden to justify killing her? Emilio didn’t really want to find out.

—

“Pinche pendejo” Nora’s phone was in her hand in an instant as she typed out the words. Once again trying to get it right based on phonetics took a while, but she got there. Pleased with the results that came up in google translate, Nora nodded. “I will call him that. Pinche pendejo.” She repeated the words just for extra measure, to make sure she wouldn’t forget them. Nora was about to close her phone when a text from Emilio popped up, because low and behold he answered her question via text. Nora had thought it odd before the word Ranger. displayed across the screen.

Nora looked up at Emilio, then back down at her phone, then back up at him. “Well, if that’s what the r” Nora glanced at Mrs. P, swallowing the word back into her throat and skipping past it. “Have to offer, then what do I have to be scared about?” At least she wasn’t finding out about an explicit sex life. Learning that she was probably about to be hunted was much more tolerable. Nora considered everything she’d said to Kaden for a moment, turning over words and memories in her mind. “Well, he probably hates me by now anyway, with the whole BB thing. I threw coffee at him the first time we met.” Yeah, those had been good times. She’d do it again. Twice over, now that she knew he was a ranger.

“Why was he petting a cart?” Was that some sort of ranger thing? Or just one of the weird things the French-Canadian got up to? “I guess you’re right. Turning me in is probably off the table.” There was a weird feeling of calm about Nora. She’d come face to face with someone specifically born to kill her, and she’d left both encounters with no clue. If he’d actually made a move against her, well, it would have surprised her. Once again Nora was reminded of Emilio’s annoying habit of being right. Watch out for rangers. They could be anywhere. Well fuck. Well pinche? “Hey Mimi, how do I say fuck in Spanish?”

—

In spite of the tension he felt following the interaction with Kaden, Emilio couldn’t help but smile softly to himself as Nora repeated the curse words. Most people, when he spoke, didn’t listen very well. They assumed he knew very little in regards to whatever it was he was talking about, figured his opinion was worth nothing. Nora was different. When he told her something, even something as simple as an insult to throw towards someone who was getting on her nerves, she heard every word. She paid attention, she thought he was right. And that felt nice. It made him feel a little more comfortable in himself, in a strange way.

“Don’t underestimate someone just because they seem dumb,” he replied with a shrug. “Anyone can put on an act. Or be dumb in some areas, and smart in others.” Maybe Kaden was easy to bully online, but there was every chance that he was deadly when he had a silver blade in his hand. In fact, Emilio had no doubt that this was the case. He might have only seen Kaden in action in a barfight against other hunters so far, but the skill had been obvious. Not to mention the fact that Kaden was a hunter in his thirties — this, in and of itself, spoke of his ability. Most hunters didn’t see thirty for a damn good reason. “Try not to give him an excuse to hate you more right now. Okay? I’m trying to figure out what kind of a…” He trailed off, glancing to the front seat again. “Person he is. When I do, I’ll let you know.” If Kaden was like his cousins, Nora was probably safe to bully him. If he was like Rhett or Owen, she should definitely avoid it.

Huffing a quiet laugh, he shrugged. “Eh. Think he said he was high or something. I’ll tell you about it later.” No need to get into the existence of hallucinogenic frogs in the presence of an audience. Even if she probably didn’t need the ammo against Kaden to keep him from turning her in, she might like to have it for other reasons. “Depends on the context. And where you’re from. Chingar if you’re talking about sleeping with someone. Chingados or chingado if you mean, ah… Something bad is happening? That’s in Mexicano Spanish.” He paused for a moment, considering. “I could teach you Spanish, you know. If you want to know it.”

—

“I don’t underestimate him because he’s dumb,” Nora mumbled, despite knowing that was exactly what she was doing. “I underestimate because he’s the town fool. If he’s so,” Nora side-eyed Mrs. P.. God, checking her language was so lame. Why couldn’t everyone just know about the supernatural world? Nora let out a little sigh. “If he’s so good at his job, maybe people would take him seriously. Even the other cops don’t respect him.” That last part was an assumption, but she felt very positive that her assumption was correct. “And they are literal pigs.”

“Okay.” It was reluctant, but it was there. An agreement to not give Kaden more reason to hate her. "Unless he says something super stupid. I can't be held accountable when dealing with idiots." There was always a loophole, and since Kaden was the mega idiot extraordinaire supreme this one would see her out of the whole situation. there was more Nora could say about him. Such as she could tell Emilio what kind of person he was. That person would be sad and easy to make fun of, but Nora decided she'd gone in on Kaden enough today, and the man wasn't even here to hear her best material.

"Mrs. P, you're really harshing my vibe," Nora informed the terrified driver, who let out a soft sob at the comment. Was the car moving faster? Nora didn't care. She wanted to hear the story of high Kaden now, but she knew she was being denied the tale thanks to the listening ears of the current company. And furthermore, Nora hated that when she asked Emilio how to say fuck his first thought sleeping with someone and not the curse word. "So like, chingado someone wants me dead?"

Then Emilio was offering to teach her Spanish and there was a small warmth in her chest. All her life, she'd been allowed to learn an abundance of things. She knew ballet, sign language, sewing, the cello, and various other things. But those had all been skills taught to her by someone paid an extraordinarnant amount of money to teach her those things. It was nice to be taught by someone who didn't have to. After all, Nora had forced her way into Axis, had tricked her way into being trained how to wield a knife and become a private investor. And now he was offering to teach her Spanish like it was nothing. "I would like that," Nora informed Emilio, another soft nod of her head.

Mrs. P. put the car in park, and the trio found themselves parked outside an unassuming home. It was nice, compared to the dumps the two of them lived in, but it was definitely the kind of place Mrs. P. would live with her hoard of kids. "I'm going in the back, distract her." Nora informed Emilio, leaping out of the van. With a running start Nora scaled the fence and was gone into the ex-polar bear trainer's back yard.

—

“Fool means dumb,” Emilio said, but there was a hint of uncertainty to the statement, as if it was more of a question. Nora seemed to be implying that the two phrases meant different things; Emilio trusted that she wouldn’t make fun of him for not entirely understanding her, just as he trusted that she’d make fun of just about anyone else for doing the same. For whatever reason, she seemed to only mock Emilio when he was in on the joke. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to earn an exception for himself, but he was glad for it. “I don’t think he’s a real cop,” he added. “His job sounds made up. Animal control officer. I bet they don’t even let him have a gun.” And in America, that was really saying something. They let grocery clerks have guns at work here.

He relaxed a little as Nora agreed, clenching his jaw at her loophole but not arguing with it. He couldn’t ask her to change who she was, after all. If Kaden did something stupid and Nora made fun of him for it, Emilio would just have to make sure he was watching her back in case retaliation came in the form of something a little sharper than words. “It’s only until I figure out if he’s going to…” He glanced at Mrs. P warily, “arrest you for it.” He hoped the emphasis on the word would clue Nora in to the fact that by arrest, he meant turn you into a taxidermy bear on the wall. He liked to think the two of them understood each other well enough to get the point across. “If I find out he’s safe, you can make fun of him any time you want.” Though the idea of Kaden being safe seemed far-fetched. Finding two rangers who didn’t hunt anymore in Alex and Andy was already an anomaly. Three? That felt impossible. Hunters didn’t tend to retire, and Emilio knew firsthand how they were trained. Most didn’t make exceptions.

It was hard not to agree with Nora’s comment towards Mrs. P, though not for the same reasons. Emilio felt the need to grill Nora on her interactions with Kaden thus far, to determine whether today was the first time he’d sensed her as a bugbear or if he’d potentially known for a while now. But he couldn’t do that with an audience, even if Mrs. P seemed far too terrified to ever tell anyone what she overheard here. “Sí,” he confirmed, offering Nora a small nod. “Exactly like that.” Her pronunciation wasn’t terrible, he noted with a pleasant warmth in his chest.

The warmth only grew when she said she’d like it if he taught her. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure how good of a teacher he’d be. He’d taught his daughter to speak, but that was different than teaching an adult a new language. Still, Emilio wanted to try it. Nora was smart — she’d learn quick. And if she picked it up, they could avoid situations like this one, where they couldn’t say what they meant. He doubted Mrs. P spoke a word of Spanish, after all. “We can start working on it whenever you’re ready. Call this the first lesson. It’s an important one, anyway.” Knowing different curses was, in Emilio’s opinion, the most important part of learning any language.

With the car parked, Emilio scooted to the door, offering Nora a small nod. There was no argument from him as she scampered to the back of the house; he made his way to the front instead, a little slower but no less determined. Ringing the bell, he leaned against the wall and waited, listening to the sounds inside the house as someone made their way to the front.

A woman answered the door. She was tall, but shorter than Emilio, with blonde hair and dark eyes. “Afternoon,” Emilio greeted as she eyed him suspiciously. “I’m with Axis Investigations. The zoo has hired us to take a second look at your husband’s death.”

“What’s there to look at?” The woman asked with a scoff. “That beast killed him, just like I always told him it would.” The response told him a lot already, allowing him to shift his approach. He offered her a tight smile.

“Just covering the bases,” he told her. “Can I come in, or would you feel more comfortable talking out here?”

The woman looked him up and down, lip curling slightly. “I don’t want you in my house,” she said decisively. “We can talk out here.” It was the answer he’d been hoping for. Talking out here instead of inside would give Nora free reign of the house without any worry of being caught. She could learn more that way.

Emilio nodded, taking a step back so the woman could join him on the porch. “Mind if we take a seat on your swing here? I’m not so good at standing.” The woman rolled her eyes, but motioned for Emilio to go ahead. He placed himself on the swing close to the window, blocking her view of the inside of the house. Hopefully, Nora was already inside rummaging around.

—

"Yeah, but it's like squares and rectangles. Not every dumbass is the town fool, but every town fool is dumb." Unwilling to have idle hands, Nora started working her short hair into pigtails. Easier to keep the strands out of her face while breaking and entering. "Some dumb people know how to keep their stupidity to themselves." She pulled a cap out of her jacket of many pockets, a snake curled in the interior, sleeping off the daylight. "Sorry little buddy." She gently placed the snake back into her pocket before equipping the cap. Nora had painted a custom design on her breaking-and-entering hat. It read "Better to be a faggot than a fascist" which was a quote from her new favorite superhero. Hobie, aka Spider-Punk. Cass had introduced her to him, and Nora knew she wouldn't need another superhero again. Her only wish was that he got more material. Maybe she'd have to make her own. She'd also painted a little version of spider-punk next to the phrase, rocking out on his guitar. "You're right, they probably think anyone who wants to be a pretend cop isn't ready for a gun. Pigs practicing gun control. Who would have thought." Nora added the last bit with a roll of her eyes.

"Arrest me?" Nora knew he meant kill her. It was obvious. Why would a hunter arrest a monster? Especially when that monster could make all the other inmates' lives a living hell. Nora slapped an overdramatic hand over her heart. "Little old me?" The drama sounded weird in her monotone voice, but she really wanted Emilio to know she wasn't worried about Kaden. There wasn't a single cell in her body that thought he was capable of hurting her in anyway. If he ended up being a fierce hunter and killing her, then she'd give him his dues, but she couldn't picture it. Besides, if she was wrong she wouldn't even need to admit she was wrong. She'd be dead. It was a win-win. Kinda.

Nora knew hunters were a stressor for Emilio. He'd given her the lecture to watch out for them often enough that she could give herself the speech if she was so inclined. He'd glared at her across the room in Axis after seeing her post particularly incriminating things, accompanying his disappointment with a heavy sigh. On one hand, it was nice to know there was someone who had her back. Someone who cared that she made it out alive. It was nice to know there was someone in her corner, someone rooting for her and caring about her well-being. On the other hand, Kaden was Kaden. Could he really do anything?

"I'm ready as soon as we save the oso." Nora was going to have to thank Metzli for getting her to google the word bear in Spanish. Now, Nora knew she was going to get a good grade in being the best student Emilio ever had, something that was both normal to want and possible to achieve. She shoved the cap further down her eyes as if she thought there might be cameras ready to capture her appearance at any moment. "I'll meet you back here in fifteen. Be ready, pinche pendejo"

There was a scent of blood in the back. Nora tracked to the edge of the backyard, but it was coming from next door. Nora considered climbing the fence to see what was up over there, but Emilio was distracting the wife now. If she wasted her window of opportunity, they'd have to come up with a new way to get her into the house. The back door was unlocked. An unforgivable sin. Maybe Nora could find it within her to forgive her since her husband just died. But only if she hadn't been the one to kill him. With disappointment, she tucked her lock picks back in her pocket and let herself in. Nora was careful to slowly shut the door, listening to the voices drifting from the front of the house to confirm Emilio had started his interrogation. Luckily for her, the backdoor let her into the kitchen. Fridge first, it's what the universe wanted. Nora shoved snacks into her pocket, and with her free hand, she started snapping pictures with her phone. There were a lot of pictures of the couple looking madly in love. Gross. Nora moved around the kitchen, a few bills were piled on the table where it looked like she'd been opening mail when they got there. Either Nora was very lucky, or very good at being a private investigator. She didn't know, and she didn't question it. Nora snapped some more photos.

As Nora moved further into the house, she came across plenty of bouquets set up for condolences. It seemed the trainer had been loved. Nora snapped a photo of each card she could find. Every now and then, she would stop to see if she could smell anything weird. Nothing. It smelled like a house that had been lived in, the flowers from the mourners, and the new food she had shoved into her pockets. There wasn't even a ghost haunting the place to have a friendly chat. Nora kept her march throughout the rooms, snapping as many pictures as she could to bring back to Emilio. One of the rooms she searched had a window pointing to the patio, she could see Emilio sitting on the porch swing. Nora spent a second trying to make eye contact with him to flip him off, before delving deeper into the house.

The next room Nora entered was the office, the computer sat open on a website for grieving widows of animal attacks. Was that really such a common way to go they made themselves a website? Nora snapped a picture. Would someone who murdered her husband, one who was already deemed innocent by the police, take the time to join such a community? Nora looked at the account's posts and saw that she'd made a few posts seeking help for her grief. Snap. As Nora was moving the mouse around, taking pictures of different emails, she accidentally knocked a pen off the table. It clattered into the trash can. Nora groaned, bending over to pick it up. Better not to get caught snooping because of a misplaced pen. To her delight, the pen wasn't the only inhabitant of the trashcan, ripped-up pictures of Nanook were in there too. Oh. So she was mad, mad at the polar bear. Snap. Was this enough? Was this going to be enough? Nora hoped so, because she could hear the closing of a door.

Damn. Seemed like Emilio hadn't been able to charm more time out of the wife, or someone else was in the house. Nora stood at the office door for a second, debating if she wanted to risk making it back to a door. Without any idea if it was the wife or someone else, she didn't want to risk walking down the hallway. The window it was. Nora shoved it open, and landed in a bed of flowers. She hoped those weren't prized. Nora shut the window, then ran towards the van. Half way, she remembered the smell in the back yard. Nora switched course, following that scent of blood she'd sniffed out earlier. The fence on the other side looked like it had been pushed out. Grass was still bent and intended from previous weight. Snap. A decroative rock was placed over the spot Nora was smelling. She pushed it aside, to find stained grass. Well that was suspicious. Why would his wife kill him in their neighbors yard? Snap. Nora put the rock back, running back to the van.

Panting, Nora slid the van door open and waited for Emilio. She didn't give him a chance to speak. "I'm going first." Then she let out a slew of words discribing everything she saw and working through every picture she took. When she was done, she took a deep breath. "I don't know why she would kill him in her neighbors yard. Isn't that harder to hide? What did you find out?"

—

“I see.” Emilio made a note of this, giving Nora an appreciative nod. It made sense, he guessed; there was overlap, but it wasn’t a complete circle. There were exceptions, but Kaden wasn’t one of them. At least, not according to Nora. It felt a little mean for Emilio to agree with her given the fact that he did genuinely think Kaden was an all right guy, but until he knew for certain that the ranger had no plans of killing his assistant, he saw no reason to say as much. Even if he did decide that Kaden wasn’t a threat, he was sure the Frenchman had dealt with far worse than a kid bullying him online. It wasn’t worth stepping in unless Nora stepped over a line, and Emilio didn’t think she was. She wasn’t cruel. Not on purpose, at least.

He watched Nora pull a hat from her pocket, reading the text with an amused glint in his eye. Good for her. He didn’t understand the reference, of course, or the strange cartoon drawn next to it, but he liked the sentiment. “Eh, they probably won’t give a gun to anyone with an accent,” he replied with a shrug. “Wouldn’t let him arrest you, though.” By which he meant wouldn’t let him kill you. Emilio had only ever hurt another hunter once, and there were days where his hands still shook from the weight of the knife he’d put in his uncle’s gut. Still, he’d do it again for Nora in a heartbeat. Without hesitation. She deserved someone who would do that for her. He wasn’t sure she’d ever had it before.

She knew how to say bear, at least. Emilio flashed her a fond smile. “Bueno,” he said, reaching out briefly to put a hand on her arm before pulling away. It wasn’t something anyone had ever done for him. Positive reinforcement wasn’t how he was raised. Doing things right was expected, and no one would praise you for doing what was expected of you. But he wanted to be better than that now the same way he wanted to be the sort of man who made sure things needed killing before he killed them. He didn’t want to make the same mistakes over and over again, didn’t want to live his whole life without changing or growing. Desperately, he wanted to be more than he was. He wasn’t sure he was capable of it. A brief pat on the arm and a single word of encouragement couldn’t undo everything he’d done wrong, but it was what he had now. Maybe he’d have more tomorrow. “Fifteen,” he agreed with a nod. “Ten cuidado. Be careful.”

It was easy to settle onto the porch, trusting that Nora could handle the house. They’d done this before a time or two. Sometimes, the roles were reversed — there were people better distracted by a twenty year old girl than a surly detective, people who might be put on guard by Emilio who would relax for Nora. Today, though, he thought their roles were perfect. Nora could easily sneak through the woman’s house while Emilio was better suited to determine if her grief was legitimate, though Nora wouldn’t know why this was the case.

There was certainly something familiar about the way the woman carried herself, he noted as she joined him on the porch, a level of anger and irritation that Emilio had seen in himself. Already, he found himself doubting the initial theory that she was responsible for her husband’s death. He motioned for her to sit, and she sniffed as she did so. She shot him a glare, folding her hands in her lap.

“I don’t know what that place wants to know,” she said, spitting out the words like they were a curse. “They’re more worried about their bear than they are my husband’s death.”

Emilio almost told her that this wasn’t true, but… She didn’t want to hear that, did she? He looked at her carefully, eyes stuttering to a stop on her hands. She was still wearing her wedding band. Her fingers twisted at it absently, and his own ring felt heavier in response. “They’re worried about the truth,” he responded. “Whatever that is.”

“And what are you worried about, Detective?” The word was aimed at him like a weapon, but Emilio hadn’t been afraid of projectiles since he was a child. He shrugged, tearing his eyes away from her ring with some difficulty. They landed on his instead, on the way he’d started fiddling with it without meaning to. He felt her eyes on it, too, wondered if it was the source of her anger, if there was some jealousy in the assumption that the ring matching the one on his finger was on the hand of someone who loved him going about their day. He’d understand if there was. He’d felt that grief himself, knew the envy that existed towards people who weren’t grieving when grief was the only thing you had.

“I want you to be able to know what happened.”

“It won’t change anything.”

“No. But you’ll know. And it’s better to know. You’d spend your whole life wondering, if you didn’t.” He paused for a moment. His eyes darted to the window just in time to see Nora flipping him off. He fought the urge to give away her position by rolling his eyes, turning back to the wife instead. “My wife died,” he told her. “Two years ago.” She opened her mouth, and he shook his head. “Don’t say you’re sorry. We both know it doesn’t mean anything, don’t we?” Closing her mouth again, she nodded.

“And do you… Know what happened to her?”

“I do,” he nodded, thinking of the blood on the living room floor, the way he still saw it when he closed his eyes. “I know.”

“Does it help?”

He paused for a moment, considering. He didn’t want to lie to her, but he didn’t know if she’d care for his answer. “It hurts,” he said, “but I’m glad I know it. If I didn’t… For me, there’s nothing worse than a question without an answer. It’s why I do this. Why I help other people find those answers. I’m doing this for the place your husband worked, because they hired me. But more than that, I’m doing it for him. He loved it, didn’t he? The bear.”

She laughed. It was a brittle thing, no humor to it. “Sometimes, I think he loved it more than he loved me. We never had children. I think I was always worried that, if we did, he’d love the damn bear more.”

“He’s gone now,” Emilio said bluntly, and she flinched. “But the bear he loved isn’t. And if he were alive, I think he’d want to make sure it didn’t suffer for something it didn’t do. I think… He wouldn’t want his legacy to be this. He’d want more. For you, for the bear. I think he’d want more.”

She nodded again, bringing a hand up to rub at her eyes. “What — What did you want to ask me? About him, about the bear. I’ll answer your questions now. I’m sorry I was rude before. I’m just… I’m so angry. About all of it. It seems so senseless.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “I know you are. And finding answers won’t stop that.”

“What does?”

“Someone said time. I don’t know if that’s true. Maybe I haven’t had enough of it yet.” He smiled faintly, shaking his head. “I don’t have any questions anymore. But I’d like to get your phone number, if that’s okay. I can tell you what I find when I find it.”

Nodding, the woman pulled out her phone. Emilio exchanged numbers with her, then stood. There was a glint from the window next door, and he turned his head just in time to see the blinds fall shut. “Nosy neighbors?”

The wife rolled her eyes. “Terrible ones, really. We’ve had nothing but problems with them since we moved in. They keep ‘offering’ to buy the place, but it feels like more of a demand. My husband told me he thinks they want to bulldoze our lot so they can add on to theirs. They’ll have this place over my dead body, though. I’m not leaving now that he’s gone. The house is what I have left.”

Emilio filed the information away with a nod, offering a platitude of, “You have a lot more than that. It was nice speaking with you. I appreciate you taking the time.”

“I appreciate you sharing your story,” she replied. “I hope you get your time.”

“And I hope you get yours.”

With one last nod, he departed, making his way back to the van and meeting Nora on the way. Nora immediately launched into a description of everything she’d found out, and Emilio found he agreed with her assessment. He opened Mrs. P’s van, ushering for Nora to get inside and climbing in after her, cracking the window to light up a cigarette. Mrs. P looked upset, but didn’t comment.

“She didn’t kill him,” Emilio confirmed. “She mentioned a problem with the neighbors. Property dispute. That, plus the blood you found…” he trailed off, taking a drag of the cigarette and releasing the smoke with a sigh. “I think we’ve solved our case, kid.”

—

From the moment Emilio declared they had solved their case, everything snowballed in a blur of action. Mrs. P cried the whole way back to the zoo where the two of them, Emilio doing all the talking while Nora nodded aggressively behind him in a show of support while being equally surprised at the explanation, explained what had happened. The wife and Nanook were in the clear for the murder of Mr. Trainer. It hadn't even been the butler in the library with a crowbar, or whatever. It had been the next-door neighbor. Don't covet thy neighbor or whatever, because if you do, you'll bash him over the head while arguing over property lines. Emilio had put it together through all the pieces of information picked up along the way, cementing Nora's opinion of him being the smartest person in town.

The zoo listened to the evidence and looked at the pictures. Then the police were called. The police scoffed at them, then listened to the evidence and looked at the pictures. A process that took too long for the forward nature of the situation, in Nora's opinion. Eventually, Axis Investigations, the only people doing any sort of leg work in the case, were dismissed from the meeting. Nora supposed it was because the cops were embarrassed that they were caught out, once again, being lazy, good for nothing, wastes of space and money. After a while, you think they'd get used to being publically humiliated. Nora made to stare down the tallest one, whose hand never left his sidearm the whole time. Nora just knew he had a problem with people questioning his authority. Nora's eyes bore into him until the moment the office door was shut behind them, and the choice was taken from her. If there was a window to the office, she would have switched to glaring at him from there. What would he do? Arrest her? She'd like to see him try.

"Come on, Mimi. We're going to go look at bears." The day was young, kind of, and there were still so many different types of bears at the zoo. The duo wandered around the zoo for a good bit, looking at bears. They also looked at animals that were not bears, but those were less exciting in Nora's opinion. Eventually, they circled back to looking at the penguins. A park bench was perfectly placed to look at the silly guys flopping in and out of the water, while also giving a view of the polar bear habitat. For whatever reason, Emilio seemed to really like the penguins. To each their own. She'd made him look at bears, she could look at penguins for a bit. It was cute when they gave each other rocks.

Nora settled on the park bench, pulled out her phone, and started texting. It was important to her that she told the Allgoods all about how she saved a polar bear at work today. Van was always talking about how her job was the worst and Janice was always ruining everything. Nora wanted to share how she had the best job. At the same time, she was trying to convince Emilio that they should steal some penguins. "We can take two of them, so they don't get lonely," Nora was absently saying. She didn't think it would work, especially since he'd already told her no polar bears in the crypt. "They can be named Pingüino y Pingüina." True to his word, Emilio had already started feeding her words in Spanish. Words that she was determined to work into her everyday vocabulary to make sure she remembered.

Movement in the polar bear habitat made her give up the good fight. The gate to the back area was opening, and a trainer clad in khakis started putting out some food. Dropping the phone back into her pocket, Nora ran to the railings just in time to see Nanook being released from his captivity and put back out in his home. "Finally." Nora let out a relieved breath. The zoo and police had actually listened. They had actually managed to save the bear. Nora stood pressed against the railing for a good while, watching as Nanook meandered around his enclosure before moving about what had to be his regular routine. Nora could feel the corners of her mouth tugging into a smile. "You did that," Nora told Emilio, pointing at that bear. "You saved his life. Thank you." Because even though Nanook wasn't a bugbear, and even though she couldn't talk to bears, it was comforting to know that polar bears could be safe in this town.

Nora grabbed Emilio, dragging him to the edge of the polar bear enclosure and positioning him where she could see Nanook behind him. A light feeling coursed inside her and warmed her up. Jobs had never mattered to her. Being a model. Being an influencer. Being a student. Those were all things she'd been forced into doing. Jobs that people had told her would make her important, so she should care about them. Something something, don't you want to contribute to society? Make a name for yourself? None of that shit could compare to the feeling of successfully solving this case. They had just saved Nanook's life. Emilio was really on to something about this private investigation business. "Hey can you take a picture of us with the polar bear," Nora asked a random woman who had been nearby. The woman agreed, "Smile." Nora instructed, standing next to Emilio. Her own features only managing the small uptick of her lips.

The woman, not new to the age of social media, took a few options for them before giving the phone back and moving on her way. Nora looked through the options and sent her favorite one to Mimi, not caring if he wanted a copy or not. "Come on. We better get back before Mrs. P. passes out of dehydration." Nora informed her mentor, stretching. It had been a good day's work, and now she was ready for a good day's sleep. Plus she still had to get her two hours of training in for the day. "She's been crying all day. That can't be good for her, you know."

—

It went pretty well, as far as things could be expected. The zoo staff, who had wanted an alternative answer all along, were happy to accept the truth of the matter. It was easy enough to make the jump that, after killing the trainer, the neighbor had used the dead man’s keycard to get back into the zoo and plant the body in the bear’s enclosure. It was a half-decent body disposal plan, though Emilio suspected he’d been banking on the bear eating the corpse rather than being blamed for the death when it was found.

The police, of course, were less willing to accept a less straightforward answer. There was less paperwork involved with an animal attack than there was with a murder, and cops didn’t particularly like being proven wrong. They liked it less when they were proven wrong by a smug immigrant and a kid whose name he refused to disclose, but even they couldn’t argue with the evidence Axis had provided. He wondered if Kaden had anything to do with it, if he’d insisted his coworkers at least hear the private detectives out before they’d headed out to the zoo. He wouldn’t have been surprised; he might not trust Kaden at this moment, but he’d seen how much the ranger wanted the bear saved.

By the time Axis was ‘excused’ from the meeting, Emilio was confident that the bear would live on to bear another day. And Nora seemed pleased, which was a definite plus. Emilio let her drag him to the different bear habitats, listened to her talk about them. There was a lot in the zoo; more than he’d been expecting. By the time they finally settled down on a bench with a good view of both the still-empty polar bear enclosure and the penguins he’d found himself fascinated by, his leg ached enough that he knew he’d pay for it later. But it was worth it, he thought. Nora was in a good mood, and Emilio would have been lying if he said he hadn’t enjoyed the adventure through the zoo, too.

Just maybe not enough to bend to the ‘steal a pair of penguins’ plan.

“I don’t think we have any place cold enough,” he insisted, still staring into the penguins’ enclosure as they flopped around. One of them was leading a chick up a hill so they could slide down it from the top. Emilio found it hard to look away. “And I don’t think they’d be happy in my bathtub. Pretty sure there’s mold in there. Look how much room they have here, kid. How are we going to give them all that?” Some things, he thought, were better off away from him. Penguins. Kids.

Nora shifted beside him, and Emilio craned his neck to look back at her. He spotted what had captured her attention immediately. The trainer in the bear’s cage. The door opening. The investigation was finished now, and they’d come out on top. The police hadn’t been able to disprove their evidence, and the right person would be stuck in a cage while the innocent bear would go back to its life. Emilio smiled faintly. “We did that,” he corrected Nora, patting her arm fondly. “Couldn’t have done it without you, kid.” If not for her, he wouldn’t have taken the case to begin with. And he was glad she’d talked him into it. He rarely got to feel good after a case. In Wicked’s Rest, most of them were doom and gloom, telling people he’d found their missing loved ones in pieces or providing them with evidence of some affair that would win them their divorce hearing. This was different. This felt good. He could stand to feel good a little more often.

He followed Nora over to the edge of the glass, let her rope him into a photo session. He even managed a small smile for the picture, and it was genuine. Today was a good day, a win on the scoreboard for Axis Investigations. There was nothing wrong with enjoying those when they found them.

Looking down at his phone as it dinged, he saved the photo Nora sent him and nodded. “Yeah, all right,” he agreed. Shoving a hand into his pocket, he emerged with a wallet. “She gave me this,” he informed Nora. “Saw a gift shop on my way in. Let’s swing by, get her a t-shirt. Think they had stuffed bears, too. Might help you brighten up that crypt of yours.” Knocking his shoulder into hers, he started that way. Something to remember the day by, he thought, wouldn’t be a bad thing. Not at all.

#chatzy #chatzy: emilio #psych

6 notes · View notes