#SHE DIDN'T HAVE ANY FOR FIVE FULL EPISODES | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ajaxgb · 16 days

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Okay so Murder Drones Episode 7 clarified a lot about what's going on, and I think I now mostly understand The Plot. Pulling my thoughts together into a rough timeline (warning, this is looong, major spoilers obv):

The setting:

Humanity is in the space age, having colonized other planets like Copper 9.

The company "JCJenson IN SPAAAAACEE!!!!" appears to have invented sentient robots, called worker drones.

Worker drones have no rights and are treated poorly.

Worker drones have a known "bug": if a dead worker drone's core is left alone in the body, it has a ~0.01% chance of coming back to life (a "zombie drone").

JCJenson has a fix for this, called "wdOS_606" (assumed to stand for "Worker Drone Operating System 606"). It's installed in dead worker drones to prevent reanimation, but in some cases the dead body can "reject" the update (even after lying dormant for up to five years!) so users are instructed to remove the core and destroy the body, too.

If a drone does reanimate, there's 70.3% chance that everything is fine and the drone is just alive again, a 29% chance of undergoing "terminal lockout", and a 0.7% chance to reboot with "potentially hazardous mutations".

So if you do absolutely everything wrong, there's a ~0.00007% chance of "potentially hazardous mutations".

That's probably fine.

The backstory:

Someone does absolutely everything wrong. An improperly discarded worker drone awakes in a mass grave of other drones.

This drone is recovered by Tessa James Elliott, heir to the Elliott fortune, who names her "Cyn".

Tessa has a fascination with worker drones, treating them like people and dressing them up as butlers and maids (much to her parents' annoyance). In addition to Cyn, she has three other worker drone rescues, who she has named "N", "V", and "J".

Unbeknownst to Tessa and the other drones, Cyn is one of those 0.00007%. She has a something called "Absolute Solver".

Exactly how much of the original Cyn is left in there is unclear. Exactly what Absolute Solver is is also unclear. (Personal theory: JCJenson didn't actually invent sentient AI. They found some eldritch alien technology, reverse engineered it, locked the original programming down under a giant pile of safeguards, and referred to it as "potentially hazardous mutations" in the user manual. But that's just speculation.)

Whatever it is, Absolute Solver is obscenely powerful and dangerous. It can manipulate objects telekinetically with extreme force and precision, regenerate from virtually any injury, project expansive life-like holograms, generate massive bio-mechanical extensions to its body and surroundings, and create "null" zones capable of shattering a planet with the correct placement.

During this time J and Tessa regularly keep Cyn locked in the manor's basement at the request of Tessa's mother, who finds her disturbing.

Absolute Solver / Cyn spreads itself into N, V, and J without their knowledge and spends its time cloning and experimenting on them down there, wiping their memories to prevent them from noticing.

Eventually, Absolute Solver / Cyn attacks a gala the Elliotts are holding, killing most or all of the guests and taking full control of N, V, and J.

Either at the gala or later, Absolute Solver / Cyn takes Tessa's body. It's not entirely clear whether AS killed Tessa and is wearing her body like a suit, or whether Tessa is still "alive" in some way (which would be even worse IMO).

Absolute Solver fully mutates N, V, and J into their murder drone forms, cloning them and using them as soldiers in the genocide of Earth. Their original minds are mostly suppressed during this time.

Earth is eventually fully destroyed, presumably by nuking its core with a null zone, and the wave of "disassembly drones" starts spreading out to other colonized planets.

The common worker drones on Copper 9 apparently never find out about any of this?

As the wave closes in, the JCJenson outpost on Copper 9 starts doing secret experiments on worker drones that are infected with Absolute Solver, under the code name "Cabin Fever".

For safety, the scientists stock the underground labs with anti-drone sentinels, raptor-like robots programmed to freeze and destroy worker drones.

Some of the worker drones they experiment on never gain any powers. The ones that do eventually become corrupted by Absolute Solver / Cyn and have to be put down. By the time of the final experiment, only two successful experiments remain: 002 Nori (Uzi's mom) and 048 Yeva (Doll's mom).

The scientists manage to develop a patch that can suppress Absolute Solver's influence. The patch is successfully installed into Yeva, but Nori has already been corrupted by Absolute Solver by this point. The scientists frantically struggle to install the patch into her as well.

During this final procedure, for reasons unknown, the intended lead scientist Dr. Chambers never shows up. His hazard suit and name tag are mistakenly taken by Mitchel, the world's unluckiest intern.

Absolute Solver / Nori is rampaging out of control. Dr. Ridley hopes that Yeva can subdue her with her powers, and due to the mix-up sends Mitchel to fetch her.

While Mitchel is gone Absolute Solver / Nori kills everyone in the cathedral lab (except for Dr. Ridley), gets rid of the sentinels, and projects a hologram to disguise the killing.

Mitchel returns with Yeva, but finds the situation seemingly under control and the patch already installed into Nori. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with Yeva in the first place, so with the danger apparently passed he leaves her outside and claims he never found her.

Mitchel leans down to pick up what he assumes is a spare copy of the patch (it's actually the original), and freezes as he spots Dr. Ridley hiding silently behind a pew. Absolute Solver / Nori kills Dr. Ridley and drops the hologram, then flings the patch USB at Mitchel's face to kill him too.

Yeva catches the USB before it hits him, having followed him inside, although the sheer wind force shatters Mitchel's visor and breaks his suit camera. She flings the USB back at Nori, successfully "plugging" it into her at last.

Before being fully suppressed, Absolute Solver throws the USB down a giant hole and generates a null zone in Nori's hand. Yeva slices the hand off and lets it fall into the hole, too. The null zone explodes, partially shattering the planet and killing all human life (rip Mitchel).

Nori and Yeva escape to the surface and join the newly forming worker drone society. One of the failed experimentees, Alice, remains below and begins scavenging parts from worker drones that have been killed by the roaming sentinels.

Nori and Yeva have children (however that works), Uzi and Doll respectively. Although it is not yet obvious, their children inherit the suppressed Absolute Solver.

The main Absolute Solver / Cyn construct was watching these events from Earth to the best of its ability. Faced with the threat of other drones that share its powers but are not under its control, it reprograms N, V, and J to wipe out all the worker drones on Copper 9.

Under the reprogramming, they mostly regain their original personalities (seemingly due to a twisted sense of sentimentality-slash-sadism) but are given false memories of being built by JCJenson to suppress the worker drone uprising.

Their abilities are "nerfed" to prevent them becoming a threat to Absolute Solver. This may be why they need to consume worker drone oil so frequently, although Uzi and Doll have that urge too. Their ship is also intentionally crash landed to prevent them from returning, and the radio is removed to prevent them discovering the truth.

It's possible that J's reprogramming was different, as she "was getting orders from someone."

In one of their early attacks, the disassembly drones "kill" Nori, but she manages to survive and escape as a core using her Absolute Solver powers. She returns to the underground lab to search for the dropped USB, never telling Khan she's alive. Presumably her goal is to use the patch to stop Absolute Solver / Cyn and the disassembly drones.

V also kills Yeva and her husband, apparently for good. The trauma awakens Doll's Absolute Solver powers.

Khan builds the doors to hide the remaining worker drones from the disassembly drones.

With her powers awakened, Doll needs to consume oil. She begins secretly killing her classmates to survive and training her powers so she can avenge her parents by killing V. Lizzy finds out and fully supports her friend's serial killing / revenge plan.

The present:

Uzi manages to befriend N, leading him to start questioning the corporate propaganda he's been reprogrammed with.

Uzi and N fight V and J. J is seemingly killed, and N confines V to the ship. In reality J's Absolute Solver awakens and takes control of her body, now reduced to a core. V could escape if she chose, but refrains for now, seemingly conflicted.

Uzi's Absolute Solver powers begin to awaken.

Absolute Solver / J stalks and kills several worker drones using holograms, seemingly for materials to construct a new body. N and Uzi fight and eventually defeat it. N repeatedly stabs its core with his nanite acid, collapsing it into a small void that drifts away. It's not entirely clear whether it's dead or not.

Offscreen, Lizzy starts hanging out with V? In the ship, I guess?? and forms a semi-sorta friendship with her. Her intention seems to have been to mention prom, so that V would get the idea to go there for murder and Doll could kill her. (The Promening is kind of a dense and confusing episode and several characters have less than clear motivations.)

Uzi begins to notice the disappearances caused by Doll's killings, but is prevented from investigating by Khan, who attempts to distract her from all that creepy stuff with prom.

Doll attempts to isolate and kill Uzi, with Lizzy's support. Uzi finds the bodies of Doll's previous victims and escapes. Lizzy goes to let V inside.

V escapes from the ship and heads to prom with the intention of killing everyone. N follows to stop her, joined by Uzi.

Doll crowns herself the prom queen, having murdered all the other candidates. I have no earthly idea why she did this, other than that the murderous psychic girl was crowned prom queen in Carrie (for different reasons) and this episode is a light Carrie reference.

V descends on the prom with murderous intent, but is suddenly distracted by the prospect of becoming prom queen. Lizzy declares that V is her friend and peer pressures the other students into forgiving V and declaring her prom queen. Lizzy eventually decides that V is "hotter than Doll" and warns her to run just as Doll attacks.

Doll and V fight, killing tons of students nobody cares about. Uzi and N enter the fray, finding themselves defending V instead of stopping her.

Doll and Uzi both attempt to convince the other to join them in taking revenge on / working with the disassembly drones, without success.

Lizzy helps V, cementing their weird semi-friendship.

Doll discovers that Uzi also has Absolute Solver powers and says she's sorry for her. She escapes, saying she's going to search for a cure and promising to help Uzi if she does.

Uzi's oil cravings begin to get worse.

Absolute Solver / Cyn / Tessa (who I will now call Skyn) arrives on Copper 9 to finish the job her disassembly drones couldn't. She is accompanied by a J clone. Their cover story is that Tessa is working for JCJenson to stop Absolute Solver. It's not yet clear whether this J is aware of the truth or has false memories.

At some point, Skyn and J meet with Doll and give her some information about operation Cabin Fever. Doll agrees to find the key they need to get into the underground labs if they take her with them.

Doll travels to Camp 98.7, a former facility used in the Cabin Fever experiments, to find the key. N and Uzi follow her there to try and figure out what's going on. They bring V and all Uzi's surviving classmates too because why not.

Uzi finds a green robot-bug which has the keycodes, though she doesn't know this yet. N finds a VHS tape describing zombie drones.

Uzi's corruption gets worse. She loses control and kills several of her classmates. V fights Uzi, addressing her as "Cyn", but N manages to calm her down.

N has been recovering partial memories of his time in Elliott Manor, and while at a not-sleepover at Uzi's he and V collapse as their reprogramming tries to delete those memories, pulling them into a memory of the night of the gala. Interestingly, their screens display "Error: 606" during this time, suggesting a connection to "Worker Drone Operating System 606", the operating system intended to prevent zombie drones.

Uzi hacks into N and V's brains to protect their minds and to recover the memories in full. As she's doing this, Doll breaks into Uzi's home and steals the key-bug. Torn between saving her friends and letting the one clue she's found slip away, Uzi decides to help N and V.

Uzi helps N and V successfully recover their memories of the gala. Uzi sets herself as their system admin to prevent further tampering.

They follow Doll to her rendezvous with Skyn and J, shocking everyone. While Skyn (pretending to be Tessa) explains her cover story, Doll runs off with the key and ducks into the office complex leading to the lab.

Everyone else follows her, fending off sentinels and Alice, that ex-experimentee, along the way. Skyn tells N that Uzi is infected and must be killed for the good of the universe, a half-truth meant to drive a wedge between them as Skyn A) is the Absolute Solver, and B) knows about the patch. Alice is killed by sentinels.

One sentinel manages to wound Skyn and goes berserk, probably due to the paradox of a creature that is both human and worker drone.

They find Doll seemingly frozen by the sentinels, but it's a trap. Doll uses the key to summon an elevator down to the labs, opening her own way and leaving them cut off, surrounded by sentinels. V sacrifices herself to let them escape.

Down in the labs, Skyn continue to push Uzi away from N, freaking Uzi out and leading her to accidentally collapse the tunnel, separating all three of them.

With "Tessa" missing, Skyn returns to her Cyn form and torments N with illusions of V, dragging him away to be eaten. He is saved by Nori, who in an amazing coincidence has just today found that patch USB she's spent all these years searching for.

Uzi finds Mitchel's suit cam recordings of the final experiment, seeing her mother horrifically possessed by the Absolute Solver but not the moment when she was cured.

Returning to her Skyn-suit, Skyn accesses and deletes all the Cabin Fever team's notes, while J destroys the disassembly drones' ship on the surface, leaving Skyn and J's ship as the only way off the planet.

Skyn is confronted by Doll, who demands to know where the patch USB is, determined not to let Absolute Solver use her to destroy the planet (which was never actually its plan). Skyn does a funny Five Nights at Freddy's reference and fatally wounds her.

Nori catches N up on her backstory and the two try to figure out whether Doll or Uzi was the Absolute Solver that just attacked them, unaware of Skyn. Nori makes N promise not to tell Uzi that she's her mother.

Doll, bleeding heavily (a thing she can do thanks to Absolute Solver!) approaches Uzi and collapses. Skyn, re-disguised as Tessa (I swear she does like five costume changes in this episode she's so extra), follows Doll in and tries to kill Uzi, who is having the worst day of her life and is in no mental state to fight back.

N stops her and, determining that she did know about the patch and wanted to kill Uzi anyway, decapitates "Tessa". He tries to give the patch to Uzi, but she's already succumbed to Absolute Solver and destroys it.

N and Nori fight Absolute Solver / Cyn / Uzi. The fight goes poorly, and Absolute Solver / Uzi almost manages to eat Nori before N executes a flawless collective-embarrassment-jutsu, snapping Uzi out of it, but causing her to toss Nori into the giant pit. N spills the beans about Nori and both of them freak out in each other's arms.

Skyn finally reveals herself, devouring Doll's still-living core and beginning to yank Uzi and N into the pit as she prepares to detonate Copper 9's core just like Earth's and kill every remaining threat to her expansion.

J gets hit by a bus, loses her car keys, and is accosted by teens.

Uzi sacrifices herself to toss N the keys and get him out of there.

Uzi is pulled into the pit and somehow ends up in space, looking down at a big hole in Copper 9? Presumably the next episode will clear up what's going on here.

Which brings us up to the present.

#murder drones #md #murder drones spoilers #md spoilers #murder drones episode 7 #murder drones ep 7 #md episode 7 #md ep 7 #story analysis

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taintandviolent · 8 months

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tendencies ; au!James March x reader

summary: You're a new patient at Cortez County Sanitarium, and a particular Doctor has taken a liking to you and your murderous tendencies. w a r n i n g s: 6k words. au, female reader, shameless smut, female receiving, medical kink, examination kink, possible abuse of power, fingering, masterbation, penetration, mentions of murder/death. a/n: [requested by anonymous, some ideas were changed due to personal preference! i'm so sorry it's another long one I ramble alsjfhdskjfhsk. if you see any mistakes, no you didn't because this wasn't beta-read at all!] full fic & taglist under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! /

It finally happened. You’d had one too many manic episodes where you swore up and down you were going to kill them both for treating you the way they did, and your parents institutionalised you. You’d threatened them with the axe your father always kept in the garden, and that was the final straw. Father was on the phone before you had a chance to even get the axe. Off to the looney bin she goes! Mother packed you a suitcase despite father insisting you wouldn’t need it where you were going. She snapped the latches shut and tossed you and it into the backseat of your father’s Ford.

Swell.

Your mother cried as two men in white uniforms approached you, each of them taking an arm. They gripped them a little too hard and you thrashed, which they took as a threat. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw your father take your mother into his arms, trying to calm her as pet her hair soothingly. She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, blotting away the running mascara. All for show, you thought.

“When I get out - I’m going to find both of you!” You promised, howling. “CHOP! CHOP! CHOP!”

Your screams echoed down the hallways as you tried to wrench yourself out of the grip of the two men. You certainly weren’t making a good case for yourself that you weren’t psychotic, but your anger blinded you. It filled your veins, rushing through as naturally as blood, and would only subside after you’d heard your mother’s terrified whimper.

The first few days had been every bit as protocol as you’d expected. Dreary and professional, filled with every bit of staunchness possible. The nurses seemed to have a perpetual frown, while the orderlies puffed their chests up, determined to appear as intimidating as possible to the crazies.

Day one was depressing. Intake consisted of them stripping you of your clothes and all belongings, manhandling you as they unzipped and unbuttoned. They promised that your items would stay in the office where you could have them once you were discharged. The tone in the nurse’s voice wasn’t encouraging — but you were certain you’d get out one day.

The orderlies then hosed you down with ice cold water, the frigidness burning your skin in the worst way. Front and back. They handed you blandly coloured clothes without a towel. Of course not. They watched as you uncomfortably dressed, yanking the gown over your head. The fabric stuck to you in the most horrible way as they steered you down the bitterly cold hallways.

Screams, laughter and everything in between echoed off those cold stone walls. As you passed, a few residents came to their doors, peering curiously out the small cutaway in the door, wanting to see if they were the one getting a new neighbour.

You were thrown into a room. Five straps; two for your arms, two for your legs, and one across your forehead. You were told that you’d stay just like that, secured to a bed until you calmed down, which was around lunch time, when your rumbling tummy trumped your need to holler until your throat was sore.

After a blandly coloured pasta dish, you weighed your options and decided that staying out of the straps was ideal, so you behaved yourself for the rest of the evening. You were escorted to another room, much farther down the hall. The number on the door said seventy-eight.

On Day Two, you’d been informed of the rigorous schedule that took place here at Cortez County Sanitarium, and naturally, you’d forgotten it as soon as it left the orderly’s mouth. You didn’t care about the community time, or the rec room, or the biscuit making. You didn’t care about anything, except planning your revenge on your parents and their selfish decision.

Your parents had never wanted you, always wanted you out of the house. They kept your schedule full with extracurricular activities, forcing friendships and relationships, toting around how you “were going to marry early, she’s just such a catch”! You all knew that wasn’t the case at all — you were sick. Sick, delusional and unstable. Hardly wife material for anyone.

They just wanted their house to themselves.

Even if you’d wanted to, you wouldn't be able to join community time seeing as you had been assigned to solitary confinement for an indeterminate period of time, due to your ‘severe tendencies’. Whatever your egocentric, hateful father had told them scared them enough to treat you like public enemy number one. Out of safety for themselves and their fellow patients, the orderlies had flanked you, escorted you to your room, sat you right down on the bed, and locked the door. Who knows what they’d done with the key. All you knew was that three times a day, someone opened the latch in your door, slid a tray of food in, and left again. Nurses came in infrequently to complete routine check-ups and change your chamber pot.

You had nothing to read but the Bible, and nothing to look at besides a confusingly angled visual of the outside world, obscured by a metal grate and brambles. The food was decidedly a highlight and the biscuits were particularly good. Made on site, one of the nurses had said.

On Day Three, it was raining. You took all your bedding off and rearranged it so that your feet faced the window. You’d much rather wake with the sun, and be staring at the door before any of the nurses came into rouse you — they were vicious with their sharp fingertips, prodding you like a child seeing if roadkill was really dead.

As you stood back to admire your interior decorating, you decided that if someone came in and rearranged it, you’d throw a tantrum like the girl three doors down who howled like a banshee every time someone touched her.

The next day, it was raining still. After some bored and delirious pacing of your room, you thumbed through the paper thin pages of the Bible, skimming excerpts that you recalled from childhood as your father had always tried to install religion and morals into your daily life. Aside from knowing the Ten Commandments, he failed miserably. As you flipped through, you noted your copy had been well loved or deeply hated, you weren’t quite sure because every mention of sex had been ripped out or scribbled on.

This isn’t so terrible, you thought. Despite the lack of reading material and the overall monotony, you enjoyed your solitude. Left alone to your own devices all day, free to plot your revenge, and free to rearrange your little room however you wanted.

On the fifth day, there was more rain, but with the exciting addition of thunder. Loud enough that you almost didn't hear the knock. Your eyes flitted from the cool, cement flooring to the door. Someone rapped their knuckle against it several times. There weren’t any words, only painstaking seconds of silence. Finally, the door opened, revealing a man with dark hair and even darker eyes. He stood tall, had a thin, movie-star moustache, and must’ve been a sharp dresser, because beneath his pristine white coat, thin white pinstripes decorated his navy blue trousers.

Despite his charismatic pull, you’d learned to not immediately trust everyone that walked through your door - most of them had a syringe in their pocket and were just waiting for the opportunity to plunge it in.

“Good Morning.” He crooned. “My name is Doctor March, I’m head of this facility.”

Was it morning? You hadn’t gotten your food yet. You pulled your knees up to your chest, staring at him hard. His eyes dropped, momentarily gobbling up the visual of your white underwear, covering a tantalising mound of flesh. He blinked sharply, returning his eyes to yours.

“No need to be afraid, my dear. I’m only here to ask you a few… questions. Simple examination. Get to know each other.”

He took a stethoscope from his front pocket, draping it around his neck. You were hesitant. Maybe it was run-of-the-mill for the head doctor to make his rounds, he did this to everyone, it wouldn’t take long and you would be back in your lonesome before they brought your breakfast. Maybe.

“Now, tell me…” He began, as he confidently approached you. “Why were you brought here?”

“I told my parents I was going to kill them,” you started. “And I — “

“How? Tell me how you wanted to kill them…”

His question stopped you dead in your tracks — up until this point, that was all they needed. Every nurse, assistant, or doctor had heard that singular phrase and scribbled something on their pad. But this Doctor…. This doctor wanted the gory details. He didn’t even have a notepad.

“I told them that I was going to chop them up into small pieces. Like that Lizzie Borden girl.”

“She was acquitted, you know.” He added, warming the chest piece of the stethoscope with his breath. Huh-huh.

You sniffed, adjusting yourself on the bed to move closer to him. The rusty springs squeaked underneath your weight. “Well, if she did do it… I understand why.”

He hummed, pleased. Your red-rimmed eyes darted up to him, confused by the sudden… heavy aura in the room.

“What?”

He said nothing, just grinned one of the most sinister, tight-lipped smiles you’d ever seen. “Deep breaths for me, please.”

He dipped his hand into your gown at the neckline, navigating around the fabric until he felt skin. He pressed the piece to your chest, listening wordlessly. Your heart started racing, and you swung your eyes away from him, hoping to calm it before he noticed. “Go on.”

You took a breath and exhaled once, hard. He moved it to another position on your chest, his knuckles grazing the plumpness of your breast. You took another deep breath, and another exhale. He pulled the stethoscope away, and returned it to his neck. With a single finger, he tapped your bottom lip, indicating that he wanted you to open your mouth.

“So. You wanted to kill your parents with an axe, did you? What else?”

You furrowed your brows at him, perplexed by his unique interest, and stuck your tongue out. He took a depressor from his pocket, and pressed into the meatiest part of your tongue, farther back than you were used to. Your gag reflex threatened, your throat pulsing, but you relaxed. He nodded slowly, seeming pleased. He still looked like he was poised, waiting for your explanation. Your eyes darted from the blurred tip of your tongue to his eyes. Alright, you’d do your best, then.

“Ah tah tha ah wah gahaa tah buh—“

Doctor March laughed; a low, breathy hum. He removed the depressor, wiping your saliva on his inner sleeve. “Apologies. Try again, my dear.”

“I…” You cleared your throat. “I told them I was going to bury the small pieces in the garden and let the Burkes’ hounds eat the rest.”

“Devilish,” he hissed.

“Um…. The Burkes are our neighbours.” You added. He nodded passively.

“Did your parents look fearful? Could you see their expressions glaze over in terror, lives flashing before their eyes?”

“Um… when I went to get the axe, my mother screamed. Loud. I’d never heard her scream like that. I ran towards the door — it was in the garden shed — but she howled and clutched her neck like I’d already done it.”

As you spoke, his eyes were locked on you, enraptured by your telling of this near homicidal experience you’d had. He understood, the drive, the hunger to want to end someone’s pathetic little life. To play God, as it were.

“That’s when my father called the police, and I suppose they called you.”

“Indeed they did. The officers spoke to me directly.”

“They did?”

“Yes. I specialise in murder, you see. Murderous tendencies, rage… both of which you seem to have.”

Shyly, you nodded. You supposed you did struggle with anger issues from time to time….

Noting your sudden sheepish disposition, he cleared his throat. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Rage is a normal human response. To feel unbridled hatred towards someone or something… every human being on earth experiences it. Of course, whether or not they act it, well that defines monster from man. And in some cases,” He added. “The rage is justified.”

To hear that sent a shiver down your spine. The validation, the understanding… perhaps this wouldn’t be such a bad place after all. If being a monster meant feeling, then you were in fact just that. Happily. A monster towards anyone who had wronged you.

“As is that, my dear.”

“What is?”

“Arousal.”

The slat flipped open. An orderly pushed a pale green tray into the slot, as they did every mealtime. Dr. March noticed this and straightened up, removing his hand from your shoulder. He walked to the door, thanked the orderly, and retrieved your tray before setting it at the foot of your bed.

“I’ll let you eat… thank you for allowing me some of your time.”

You could only nod feebly as he walked out the door. Once the lock clanked into place, you reached between your legs, ready to scoff at his accusation until your fingers met your slick cunt. Part of you was embarrassed, another part sour that he knew, and the final part had her tongue out, panting like an overheated dog, wanting him to return.

It was just after lunch time when he came back the next day. The same knocking on your door before it opened, and this time, you felt your heart jump into your throat, thudding away foolishly. This time, he hardly asked any questions, just dove right into examining you like any other patient. Though you hid it, you were in seventh heaven with the way he handled you.

The Doctor took your pulse, pressing his fingers into the inside of your wrist and counting on his watch. While he focused, you studied his face, swearing to remember his dashing features long after he’d left your room again. His black eyes darted over, and you flicked yours away, bashfully. He seemed to commit a number to memory, his lips moving ever so slightly as he said it aloud.

“Head up, please.” His fingertips guided your head, angling it slightly. Without another word, he then pressed two fingers into the pulse in your neck, allowing it throb against the pads. Your breath hitched in your throat.

As though he knew, he stared into your eyes. Confirming that he was right, you stared right back. His breathing was shallow, washing over your lips. Heat bloomed in your cunt, pulling up with a deep clench. He inched closer, somehow still monitoring your pulse. Had the roles been switched, you would’ve forgotten how to count by this point.

“Have you ever wanted to kill anyone?” You asked in a whisper. Your throat was dry.

He leaned so close to you that you could feel his cool breath on your cheeks. “Many times.”

You swallowed. “Have you ever killed anyone?”

This time, he didn’t answer immediately, in his swoon-worthy confident way. Instead, his eyes tunnelled into your soul, dreaming about taking fistfuls of your patient gown and tearing it half, tossing it to the floor and dancing across your naked form. His heavy coat hid what you wanted to see, but he watched your eyes trail down. Had it not been, you would’ve seen exactly what he needed to hide — for professionalism’s sake.

You were unlike any other patient; not in the sense that you wanted to kill people, or even had. Those were a dime a dozen. Your hunger was erotic, and needed sating. Like him, you’d savour the tinier details. You’d take great pleasure in it and after, play gleefully with their blood. He could smell it on you, the need for carnality, for violence.

“You have…” you whispered, closing in the distance. Your underwear were slick with your arousal, you felt your cunt glide against the cotton fibres as you moved towards him. He straightened up, inhaling deeply through his nose. The sudden separation was painful, and you were fairly certain you had let out a pitiful whine.

On the seventh day, it was sunny, but the only hospital staff that visited you was a nurse, who delivered a medication in a tiny paper cup. You clamped your teeth shut, refusing. She tried to force your jaws open with her bright red manicured nails, but you still resisted. With an annoyed huff, she gave up, making a note of the behaviour on her clipboard.

You angrily fingered yourself that afternoon. You thought of Doctor March and his cool hands, and the way that they’d ghost over your skin before roughly grabbing your limbs, yanking you in the direction he wanted you to go. You imagined the way his moustache would tickle the soft flesh of your inner thighs, his teeth nipping at the soft flesh.

Another thought - a darker thought plagued your mind while you pleasured yourself. The thought of him killing. Which, at that point, you were fairly certain he had. The way that he had hurriedly left, refusing to speak any further had told you of his guilty (or perhaps not guilty at all) conscience.

You wondered if he’d killed someone here. Perhaps a patient, perhaps an unsuspecting nurse who had been a little too flirty with him, and he’d used it as an excuse to get close enough to strike. Perhaps he’d killed a rival doctor whom had too big of an ego, a resident from another hospital who tried to climb the ranks of his hospital.

You pictured him, covered in blood and remains. Crimson dripping from his sculpted, veiny arms, with the sleeves of his pristine lab coat rolled up to the elbows. His hair dishevelled, dark strands hanging down in front of his black eyes.

It fuelled your fingers as they pumped in and out, only stopping to draw circles on your clit to bring the sensitivity higher. You came onto your fingers, saying his name over and over again. It started raining again.

It was the ninth day when he finally came back. You had heard his knock, and immediately rushed to stand at the your edge of your bed, hands clasped behind your back. You rocked back and forth on your bare heels, like a good little patient, waiting for instruction.

He opened the door, pausing to look over you. Jaw clenched, eyes burning with intensity. His expression said everything; the absence had been just as hard on him as it was on you — and perhaps, you two had came at the same time. You in your dismal room and him in his ornate, dark office.

He pressed the door shut behind him, keeping his hungry eyes on his meal.

“You crave what I crave,” he hissed, hoisting you up in his arms and slamming your back against the cold wall behind you. Every word sounded so suggestive coming from his mouth, and you longed to hear him speak about everything and anything all at once. You responded by wrapping your legs around his waist, squeezing tight. Your underwear pressed against his coat, fabric grinding against fabric. You whimper at the feeling of the bulge in his pants and even through the layers, he can feel the wet warmth of your cunt.

His thumb hooked around the hem of your underwear, teasing the crease of your hip, before lifting the elastic enough to crawl his fingers underneath the damp fabric. With an exhale, he closed the distance, drowning your whimpers in devouring kisses.

“Just another examination,” he assured, before running his middle finger up and down your slit, smearing your wetness everywhere he could.

There was something thrilling about being fondled by a doctor, perhaps the threat of it being wrong and immoral. You’d heard whispers of hysteria — something that while in his grip, you agreed to having. You were hysterical for his touch, and wanted everything he was willing to give you, despite the ethics. As far as anyone in the halls were concerned, he had every right to examine this patient, and find the cause of her lunacy. The thought had you leaking onto his hand, coating his thick digits in your arousal.

He inserted two fingers into your dripping cunt, sinking them to the knuckle. You wanted to whine, to scream, to bite his collar, and fill the cold hallways with your moans. Instead, you laid your head down on his shoulder, rocking against it in the rhythm that his fingers plunged into you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you pressed your cheek into his white lab coat and panted as quietly as you could. His fingers curled inside of you, exploring your insides curiously. You felt them everywhere, pumping in and out easily.

“Doctor March?” Came a voice from outside.

He froze.

Wide eyes flitted to and fro, your chest heaving with desperate, terrified pants. What would happen if you two were caught? Would it matter, in his grasp? His black eyes rolled upwards and with a displeased groan, the doctor dropped you to your feet. He wiped his fingers on his coat, then turned away from the door to stuff his stiff cock into his waistband, where it would remain until the erection faded. Whatever menial task he was doing would eventually consume his mind enough to take all his thoughts off you. Maybe. Maybe not.

He was gone before you could protest, and you collapsed against the wall in a sweaty mess. But before your depression could sink too deeply into your psyche, the door opened again, and the orderly stepped towards you. Doctor March was still in the hallway, fingers laced in front of his crotch. He was waiting. With two fingers, the orderly beckoned you forward.

“Oh, what now — OUCH!”

As soon as you were out of your room, the orderly took hold of you, digging his thumb deep into the muscle of your upper arm. What was it with them? Couldn’t they just kindly guide you? You wanted to kill him for handling you like that. You wanted to snap his neck, feel the dull crack beneath your hands, and watch as the life disappeared from his eyes like the sun behind clouds. You want to feel his heartbeat slow to a stop, thudding one final time before it faded into nothingness.

When you snapped back to reality, Doctor March was staring at you with a very knowing smile. He bowed his head slightly and swallowed.

“She getting a lobotomy, Doc?” The orderly asked, genuinely curious.

“Something of that nature,” he concurred. “I’m going to start treatment in attempt to cure her hysteria, and preform whatever tests necessary to properly diagnose what ails this young woman.”

You knew what he meant. You felt what he meant. Deep between the slippery walls of your cunt, you felt what Doctor March meant by that. He wasn’t going to lobotomise, he was going to fornicate. You tried to crane your neck to look at him, but he was too far out of your peripheral, and the orderly shoved you forward.

“Good luck to you. She’s a real basket case.”

Once you’d all reached the examination room, which was upstairs and at the very end of the hall, you traded hands, Doctor March putting on a good show for this orderly. He gripped your arm hard — not quite as a hard as they orderly had — enough to depress the skin.

“Thank you, Sam. Please let the others know that I require concentration. Avoid any disturbances at all costs.” “Sure thing, Doc.”

The room was filled with shelves, packed with books on the human mind and all of its maladies. Specimens decorated the shelves that weren’t filled with books; mummified brains, organs in jars. A few plants were shoved into the tiny crevice of a windowsill. You began walking towards them, enchanted by seeing greenery for the first time in almost two weeks.

His stern voice came from behind you, cutting the fascination short. He reached into his coat pocket, retrieving a pair of black rubber gloves. He slipped his fingers into each one, pulling them down and letting the rubber snap back against his wrists. “Ah-ah. The table, please.”

You hadn’t really anticipated a full on examination. Had you read everything wrong? You jumped with each snap of the rubber gloves, suddenly uncertain. Perhaps he was going to lobotomise you. With a dejected sigh, you turned. Maybe later. Putting one foot in front of the other, you made your way over to the examination table and stood obediently in front of it, waiting for his next move. After slipping his arms out of his white coat, Doctor March flicked on a light above, and the shiny metal seem to glimmer underneath it. The coat was hung on a nearby coat stand, and you took a small moment with the delicious new visual. He wore a white shirt, as pristine as his coat, but with black suspenders and black trousers with dark grey pinstripes.

“So, you’re going to attempt to cure me?” You asked, sucking coyly on your bottom lip.

He didn’t answer. Doctor March’s lips collided with yours almost straight away, tossing all tact out the window. He knew what he was doing uncouth and borderline criminal. Of course, a distinguished doctor shouldn’t be dry humping one of his patients in his examination room. It had become uncomfortable though, his arousal swelling well past the point of being ignored. His cock burned with a demanding, carnal need. He continued thrusting his hips upward into your tummy as he peppered your neck with kisses, unable to control the urges to do so.

It was your fault. Simply for being you, which he was unable to resist. He knew that you wanted to kill people as much as he did and that you’d relish the tinier moments of murder. The thought drove him wild, picturing you spattered with someone’s blood, chest heaving, eyes wild with the titillating glimmer of manslaughter. Abruptly, Doctor March pulled away and spun you around, your back facing him. He slid his hands over yours until they reached the shoulders, where he squeezed softly, leaning into you to take in your scent. You could hear his uneven, lust-broken pants as his wide gloved hand eased you down into a bent over position, pressing your bare chest against the cool metal.

“Whether or not this cures your hysteria will remain to be seen… it certainly won’t cure mine. Once I have you, I’ll only want you more.”

With your face smashed against the examination table, you moaned. He had kissed your lips raw, they stung.

“Are you certain you… consent to this treatment?”

You nodded too quickly, wiggling the plump curve of your ass against his crotch. Doctor March groaned — a deep, guttural moan — and took hold of your hips, yanking them backwards into his own groin. “Splendid. Then, up onto the table you go, my dear.”

Obeying him, you turned around, placing both hands on the table and hoisted yourself up into a sitting position.

“Lay back, please.”

He began to examine you as any doctor would - pressing and prodding. You weren’t in any pain, so naturally, the only sounds were your shallow breathing. He felt your lymph nodes in your neck, pressing two fingers delicately against your throat, skating down over your collarbone. Your eyelids fluttered helplessly, which he noticed. They then travelled… carefully… towards your breasts, taking the fullness in the palms. You writhed on the cold, metal table as he squeezed them, rolling your nipples between his gloved thumb and forefinger.

“Perfect,” he crooned. “Perfect.

His hands continued trailing down, pressing firmly into your organs. His fingers traced the curve of your hips, fiddling knowingly with the hem of your underwear, tugging them down slightly. With a deep breath, you dug your heels into the table, lifting your ass off the table. Doctor March smiled, and pulled them down your legs.

“As I said before, my delinquent little darling, you seem to crave what I crave.”

Doctor March took his middle finger, trailing your slit. He then took his forefinger and middle finger and pressed them down on either side of the slit, spreading your cunt wide. The cool air hit it, and you shivered.

“Cold?” He asked.

“The opposite, actually. I feel like I’m on fire.”

Another gloved hand pressed against your naked abdomen, feeling the heat that radiated through the thin rubber. “Indeed you do… and my, my. All for me?”

“All for you.” You echoed.

He inserted one finger, the rubber sliding into your cunt easily. His eyes were on you, locked, to see your reaction. Your eyes closed, you exhaled.

Two fingers, and your stomach muscles clenched. Your pelvic muscles clenched too, pulling his thick fingers further into you. With his thumb, Doctor March encircled your clit, still swollen from the pleasuring before. Your back arched violently, the same way patients’ backs did when hundreds of volts of electricity coursed through their pliable bodies.

Your clear, slick arousal collected in the webbing of his gloves, and Doctor March withdrew them suddenly, holding them up to the light above you. Crystal strands strung between his fingers before breaking into droplets on either side. He smiled inwardly, pleased.

Doctor March leaned down, dragging his flattened tongue the length of your cunt, stiffening the tip of it once he reached your clit — you let out a piercing whine, and he chuckled. “Your sensitivity seems… high.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Please sit up, and move to the edge of the table.” He barked, as he undid his own restrictions. You heard the clang of his belt. “Now.”

You did as you were told. The moment approached quickly, and your cunt clenched at the thought.

He wrapped his hands around your backside, pulling your closer to the edge of the table. With ease, he hoisted your legs into the crook of his elbows, holding them there. Your blushing cunt spread open for him, dripping eagerly. Hard enough that he didn’t have to hold it, Doctor March lined his cock up with his hips, pressing his squishy, hot tip into your slit. He took a fistful of your gown, tucking it back behind you so that he had a clear view of the treatment.

The first breach stung, stretching until your cunt finally gave way to his thick cock. The doctor let out a low sound, his legs quivering with the sensation. He wanted to ruin you, to split you wide open and make you cry so loud that all the orderlies came running. But he exercised restraint… slowly sinking his cock into you.

You trembled in his grip, unconsciously trying to writhe away from him, which only pulled an instinctive ferocity from him. He dug his fingers into the meat of your thighs, pulling your closer to his torso. “Stay still.”

The first few humps were steady and slow, the kind that were accompanied by sweet hushes, and ‘it’ll be okay, my darling’s. However, they disappeared as quickly as they’d come — Doctor March began pounding himself into you, sinking himself all the way in.

As he drilled himself into you, the empty examination room was now filled with a cacophony of sounds; skin slapping wetly against skin, panting breaths, and ecstasy-ridden moans. Every shift of position brought his thick cock deeper into your cunt, hitting the deepest spot he could, until it ached each time the head bumped into your cervix.

You weren’t sure how long he’d been fucking you when you'd heard the hinges on the door creak as it opened. Doctor March didn’t seem to hear it, but you certainly did. You blinked, lifting your head heavily. A nurse stood in the doorway, her slender silhouette illuminated by the brightness of the hallway.

For a fleeting moment, you felt fear. You two were caught. Surely, there’d be consequences. But the thought quickly dissolved when you focused on the feeling of the doctor’s cock stretching you wide open, slipping in and out easily with the mutual arousal that leaked out onto the metal table below. You were the one in the arms of the head doctor — any punishments went through him first. Besides, if he was the one to punish you, you’d willingly accept it. The fear was replaced with deviousness, with delight and you stood your ground, waiting for the nurse’s undoubtedly shocked reaction.

Her eyes flitted all around, taking in the scene in front of her. Bemusedly, you watched as they trailed up his legs to his pants, hanging just below his ass as it bucked back and forth with each thrust into you, burying his cock deep inside. She scanned over your fingers as they curled possessively around the back of his neck, stroking his sweat-soaked skin. Your lips twisted into a wicked, daring smile as your eyes met and it was then that she gasped, covering the entire lower portion of her face with her slender, manicured fingers.

Doctor March, now noticing that you had stopped moaning in his ear, straightened up slightly, keeping the rhythm of his thrusts. He lazily turned his head to look behind him, but he was far too deep into euphoria to respond appropriately. His eyes were heavy, half-lidded as he too made eye contact with the nurse. He didn't stop fucking you. Instead, he groaned hard, and dropped his head into the curve of your shoulder. You heard the sound of the door pulling shut, and her high heels echoing hurriedly down the hall.

“She saw us,” you whispered. “She saw you taking me, Doctor March….”

His thrusts became harder and more erratic as his orgasm built and finally spilled out into you in hot spurts. The coil in your stomach twisted tighter until it snapped with a gush and a screaming, begging moan. You two had both been driven over the edge by yet another concerning fascination, voyeurism. The nurse witnessing this foul, illicit act had been so arousing to the both of you that you had, in unison, come undone on each other.

His breathing eventually slowed, and he backed himself out of you. You felt his cum running out of your cunt and down your legs as your dropped them onto the rim of the table.

“Well, how do you feel?”

“Worse.”

He quirked a brow, tilting his head to the side. “I have another hunger now, Dr. March. I want sex… and murder.”

He smiled deviously, slicking his hair back with one hand. “Indeed. Indeed you do.”

As he retrieved your underwear for you, you hopped off the table. “Do you think she’s going to tell?”

“If she does, we’ll take care of it, won’t we?”

The next day, the tenth day, you woke up with a smile on your face. The rain had stopped, the storm system moving away from your location. It remained cloudy. You hadn’t done anything that morning, except eat breakfast. You’d gone to sleep late that night, waiting until all the whispers and wails had died off. And you pleasured yourself again, knowing that the remnants of the Doctor’s thick cum was still inside you.

Just before lunch time, there was a faint knock, and the door opened. The same nurse who had seen Doctor March fucking you was the one who had come to check on you. You two wordlessly stared at each other, daring the other to speak first. Neither did.

She approached you hesitantly, clipboard in hand and the second she was close enough, your fingers clamped around her wrist, yanking her towards you.

“If you say a word about what you saw, he’ll kill you, and I’ll help him.”

She yanked her wrist back, the fear permeating through her core. Though she didn’t acknowledge your threat before hurrying out the door, you felt that she believed you.

Which, all things considered, was a bit of a shame.

t a g l i s t : @kaismanwich / @redwoodghost / @elsamars / @silverzoomies / @kaisbasementwhore / @thewolveswithin / @80strashbag / @twinkiemaximoff / @spill-the-t / @stucktothetwo / @enchanting-evan / @evansb1tch / @yesdevineruler / @anonymous0316 / @eventually27 / @violetharmonscupcake / @my-own-walker / @kai-slut / @fuckedbykai / @iluwmycats / @dewberryobssesed / @the-goblin1 / @dirtyfairy97 / @jellyluvr / @strangerthings420 / @kai-anderson-whore / @piecesofcain / @lilthbunny / @tatelangdonsweater / @ifeeltoofuckingmuch / @howtobesasha

#James Patrick March #James Patrick March x reader #James Patrick March x you #James Patrick March x yn #ahs smut #ahs fanfiction #myfics #requests

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resisteverything · 18 days

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Just for fun (I am really not invested, haven't even watched the full thing): why do you dislike Hazbin Hotel?

This is the biggest one, the hotel is useless. Charlies whole goal is to redeem sinners with the hotel, but by the end of the season there are only two guests, and then one of them dies. This is particularly bad because of the six month deadline set in episode one. Like what is Charlie even doing over those entire months?

The main characters are weak. I expected to learn more about Angel dust in the show itself, and see a new side to him, but in the end his entire character is summed up with Addict, except the show gives him less personality than Addict does. And he's the best one. Charlie is just a Disney princess parody, the only unique trait of hers being that she swears randomly and has daddy issues, the latter only mattering in one episode, the other seven either shafting her character or giving us no new information about her. Vaggie never once does anything that isn't what Charlie told her to. Alastor is vague and mysterious, but the intrigue and fear factor he brought is just sort of ruined in the show proper. He doesn't work as a foil to Charlie or an antagonist because he never does anything for forward the plot.

Nothing happens in this show. Episode one's only contribution is the dead angel and six-month deadline, everything else is skipable. Episode two changes nothing except that Pentius is at the hotel now, and he doesn't do anything. Episode three is only important in that Alastor hears about the dead angel head, info which he doesn't use until episode seven, like no other character is aware of the angel head. Episode four is only important in that episode six centers on whether or not angel has redeemed himself, except in episode six has the question be answered with "Actually heaven doesn't care about that and was never going to listen to Charlie", episode five is only important in that it's setup for Charlies meeting with heaven, a meeting that ends in her being kicked out and nothing having been changed. Episode six is that meeting. Episode seven is Charlie literally giving up on her motivations to prepare to do battle with heaven, and episode eight is them fighting that big battle. Nothing Charlie did from episodes one to six actually brought them closer to resolving the conflict, and season two is just a return to the previous status quo of hell.

The series is packed full of side characters that should not be so numerous in an eight episode season. Why is Carmilla Carmine, a character that shows up in two subplots a more relevant character to the narrative than any of the main characters? Why did we get half an episode dedicated to the Vees dicking around in ways that in no way affect the plot but never got to see Charlie and Angel dust have a real conversation that wasn't antagonistic? Why did Charlie work out her issues with Vaggie with a completely new side character she's never met before this episode instead of with Vaggie? Why is Vox spying on the heroes for all of episode eight instead of doing anything? Didn't one of them actively try to incite a war against heaven? Shouldn't she be siding with the heroes?

The show has a bizarre relationship with the pilot. It expects you to understand that Charlie taking Alastors hand is a big deal, or know who Cherri bomb is, because these things are in the pilot. But it also Retcons things like Lucifer's characterization, or Husks reason for staying at the hotel. It makes the show hard to follow plot wise.

The tone is all over the place. Pentius dies as a joke that kills a serious moment but then they try to make it serious. Charlie and Vaggie have a serious conversation with jokey slapstick noises in the background. Valentino flips between scary and goofy at random. Angel gets raped and it’s a big deal, pentius gets raped and it’s a joke.

#hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel #anti hazbin hotel

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fandoms--fluff · 13 days

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Hello i know that i resquest so much but I love your work so can you do more of little Mikaelson baby sister with Hayley where yn is with her and baby hope Hayley treats yn like other daughters because she love her so much that she is sad when yn cry

If I Were Your Mother

Baby Mikaelson sister reader x Hayley Marshall (and everyone else)

Warnings: Mikael being an ass, death?

A/n: This is set during later season 2, we're gonna forget about Jackson and Hayley together. We're gonna pretend that everyone is happy and Klaus and Hayley don't fight about what's best for Hope or try to take her away from each other every other episode and are actually good together.

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

Mikael is back. Davina brought him back from the other side almost a year ago. You've seen Kol and Finn in their new bodies and were completely freaked out by Finn. He had tried to kill you. You wouldn't leave your brothers or Hayley's side no longer than five minutes for almost two weeks.

Mikael had boomed into the abattoir, white oak stake in his hand, ready to kill. He laid his eyes on you the moment you ran into the room where you heard a familiar man's voice yelling. You regretted it as soon as you saw your father. The same father who had been tracking you and your siblings down for the past millennia.

You had thought Nik had already killed him, he told you he had. Did he lie?

Mikael went straight to you. You loudly screamed and tried to vamp speed out of the way, but he was too fast for you. He had caught you in his arms and pressed the stake right at your tiny chest.

As soon as your loud scream pierced the walls of the old building, the room was immediately full of your older siblings; Bekah, Nik, and Lijah, as well as Marcel and Hayley, whom you'd grown really close with since she was pregnant in the early months.

"LET HER GO" Klaus bellowed, his eyes flash a striking amber. His anger is through the roof, no one touches his baby sister and lives, no one. He starts to stalk his way over, followed by Elijah.

"Don't come any closer, boys" Mikael spat at them. You whimpered loudly as tears ran down your reddened cheeks. All you want is your big brothers.

"No" You hit your father's shoulder and tried to pull away from him. All that does is make his grip on you tighten to a painful extent. Even with your vampire healing, it hurts tremendously.

Veins appear under Hayley's eyes, enraged at Mikael for even going near the poor little girl. She uses her hybrid strength and lunges at him. She knocks the white oak stake out of his hands and bites him on the shoulder opposite you. She takes you into her arms and quickly vamps you back over to Marcel before returning to Mikael, along with Elijah, Klaus, and Rebekah.

Your big sister grabbed the stake into her hand and vamped towards where Elijah and Klaus were pinning Mikael down each on one side and Hayley's arm was wrapped tightly around his neck. She shoved the stake right through Mikael's heart. Flames blaze across Mikael's body and clothing. His screams echoed through the whole compound.

They all backed away from the burning corpse of the vampire who hunts vampires, watching as he burned from the inside out.

Marcel had you tucked against his chest, hand on the back of your head so you didn't have to watch the fight going down. You sobbed into his shirt, scared out of your mind. You want, you want Hayley.

She was the one who took you from Mikael. You pull away once Marcel's grip slackens a bit after Mikael burns.

You outstretch your arms towards the hybrid. Hayley quickly comes over to you and brings you into her arms gently. She turns back around to the other three originals, Klaus has a hurt look on his face, clearly wishing you had wanted him.

Hayley feels guilty, mouthing 'I'm sorry' to him. Elijah nods in response to her before looking at his younger brother and Rebekah places a hand on his shoulder.

"She has no means to hurt you, Nik. Don't think about it too much. She loves all of us" Rebekah whispers to him. Klaus takes a deep breath before nodding in response to her. He knows he shouldn't hold it against you, you may be over 1000 years old, but you're 2 years old, with a mind and thoughts that come with it, even as a vampire. And he knows you love him, he shouldn't hold it against you.

He nods to Hayley, a smile twitching at his lips, before turning to the burnt to a crisp corpse.

"Well, we should tend to the trash, shall we, sister?" Klaus smirks towards Rebekah. "We shall" She smirks back to him.

Klaus walks over to your tiny, shaking body in Hayley's arms and places a hand on the back of your head before kissing your forehead. He then goes over to their father, putting his arms behind his back as he brainstorms what to do next.

Rebekah walks over to the two of you next and places a kiss on the crown of your head. "I love you, sweetie" She runs her hand through your soft hair before going over to where Nik and Elijah are.

Hayley walks towards the stairs, nodding at Marcel, to which he nods back before walking off to the room he was in before Mikael showed up.

She bounces you in her arms, trying to soothe and calm you down. "Oh, It's okay, Baby. He's gone. He's gone now" She holds you close. you lean into her warmth and grip your pudgy hands on her shirt.

"No need to cry no more," She says, starting to tear up herself. She walks into her room and opens the door to the nursery. She goes over to the crib where a baby Hope lays, eyes open, looking up at the mobile. And now her eyes land on her Mama and you.

You hear the tiny mewling sounds from Hope, and look up from Hayley's chest to the baby. you let go of her shirt with one hand and reach to Hope.

Hope sits up from where she was lying down, looking up at you. She has loved you from the start, even though she can't talk yet, but knows that love is returned back from you

"You want some time with Hope?" Hayley asks you. You've been obsessed with the baby girl since before she was born, you love her just as much as Hayley and Klaus. You immediately nod your head, "Hopey" you say and let out a grin even with the tear tracks on your face.

Hayley lowers you into the crib with her daughter and watches how you immediately get into a silent conversation with her. You both giggle and play together with the small toys scattered in the crib.

She watches as you both play, a smile on her face. If she could adopt you as her own daughter as well, she would have no second thoughts and do it in one fell swoop. But she knows that your family loves you a great deal.

If she were to be your mother, she would love you so much. She would give you the childhood and life you deserve. She would care for you as a mother like she has been for over a year. There's no way she can express just how much she loves you.

"I love you both so much," She tells you both, watching as you cuddle with each other into the soft blanket. Hope has two pacifiers in her hands. She hands one over to you the best she can and you take it in your tiny from her just as tiny hand.

Hope puts the other in her mouth, just as you put the one she handed you into yours. You both suck on the pacifiers, tiny suckling noises filling the room.

Hayley tries not to physically aww at the action. Both of her babies sucking on soothers. She knows you're older than a normal age of a 'baby', but you're just as a baby as Hope is in her eyes. And the same goes for the eyes of your big siblings.

Klaus walks into the bedroom not long after you and Hope doze off, curled into one another. He looks around the room, "Where's my baby sister?" He asks, worried about you after the event of earlier in the day.

"Shh" she holds a finger up to her lips before nodding down at the dark wooden crib.

He follows her instructions and looks down at the crib, his face softening right away. He watches as his two baby girls sleep, sucking on the pacifiers.

Hayley pulls him into the other room, closing the door so she doesn't wake you two up.

"Is Mikael dealt with? Gone for good?" She asks him. "Yes, he shall not return, never again. the look on her face, I- I froze, he was going to kill her. And it was my fault" His voice wavers.

"Hey, it's not your fault, and nothing happened. That asshole deserves what he got and everything that's coming his way in hell. You're her big brother, Y/n loves you so much" Hayley pulls the elder into a hug.

Klaus stiffens at first before melting into her arms, breathing in her scent. After ten more seconds, he backs away, looking into her eyes, vulnerability shining through them. He covers it back up before his eyebrows scrunch together and a glint in his eyes.

"Was Y/n using a pacifier?" a smile plays on his lips. "Yeah, our daughter thought she would want one and gave one to her.,. Obviously, she was right. I have a feeling they're not going to allow us to separate them for a while" Hayley chuckles lightly.

"I assume that's the same for you with her as well" He crosses his arms, eyebrow raised in amusement.

"Fair enough" Hayley smirks back to him.

You don't leave Hayley and Hope's side for a little while. You love it when you're all having a cuddle session with Hayley or Klaus, or both of them. The pacifier also is starting to seem like a constant. The only one to have a bad word against it is Elijah, saying that you don't need to develop a bad habit of always wanting one. But that's quickly stopped when Rebekah dragged him out of the room and nicely explained how their baby sister using a soother is at the bottom of the list of their concerns.

You love Hayley, Hope, and your siblings to the moon and back.

#hayley marshall #hope mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #marcel gerard #mikael #klaus mikaelosn x reader #hayley marshall x reader #hope mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelon x reader #rebekah mikaelson x reader #marcel gerard x reader #hayley marshall x baby reader #hayley marshall x baby mikaelson sister reader #hayley marshall x little mikaelson reader #hayley marshall x baby mikaelson reader #baby hope x reader #baby hope mikaeelosn #baby hope mikaelson x baby mikaelson reader #hope mikaelson x little mikaelson reader #hope mikaelson x baby mikaelson reader #klaus mikaelson x little sister reader #klaus mikaelson x baby sister reader #elijah mikaelson x little sister reader #elijah mikaelson x baby sister reader #rebekah mikaelson x little sister reader #rebekah mikaelson x baby sister reader #marcel gerard x baby reader #marcel gerard x little mikaelson reader

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theteasetwrites · 7 months

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Begin Again

Chapter 2: Ami ou Ennemi?

❧ Media: The Walking Dead: Daryl Dixon ❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 1 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: violence, scary situation ❧ Word Count: 4.8k

❧ In This Chapter: On the road west, things take a turn when the first people you and Daryl come into contact with in France turn out to be a bit less welcoming than you'd hoped they would be. Meanwhile, a watchful pair of eyes just might be what saves you.

❧ A/N: Okay so this was going to cover the whole rest of the first episode but I didn't want to cram it all into one giant chapter, so here's a smaller (kinda boring tbh) chapter! This chapter is necessary because it leads up to the kick-off of the storyline in Chapter 3, which I promise will be MUCH more interesting (and have way better Reader x Daryl interactions, of course). But for now, please enjoy this chapter! I am having so much fun writing for the spin-off ahhh

Carried by a limp and an aimless hope still lingering in your heart, you walked.

In fact, you walked for days. About five total, you were sure. Well, you couldn’t be too sure. Everything was a blur, and you’d given up keeping track with the tally marks you’d scribbled on the edge of the map. All you could bother to rely on now was the natural movement of the earth, the sun rising on one shoulder, setting on the other. Then a few hours of sleepless sleep, then walking again, through what seemed to be a once sparsely populated countryside, amongst a collage of ancient ruins.

From your navigation, you’d determined that the snow-capped mountains you walked just at the base of were those of the Pyrenees. For miles you walked along those foothills of thick green shrubbery and ever-expanding stretches of woods, through which a wide gravel road snaked and occasionally branched into small hamlets or mysterious medieval ruins you didn’t care too much to research.

As your eyes squinted hard at the map you’d come to loathe the now taunting familiarity of, you felt your steps slow to a halt, crushing the ancient gravel underneath you with a dying enthusiasm. Daryl followed behind you, himself preoccupied as well, but by the wound on his arm, which had been festering for almost two days now.

You’d been tending to it, of course. Daryl could’ve done so himself, but you hardly trusted him to be as diligent with the care of his own injuries as you were.

The good news seemed to be that the burn did not inflict a fever upon him, or have any other kind of deadly effect. Still, as Daryl put so eloquently, “It hurts like a son of a bitch.”

You turned around, approaching him as he studied the burn, in the distinctive shape of a handprint. Taking his arm in your hand, you frowned at the festering wound, still a little too raw for your liking.

It seemed to be healing a little, though, with only slight accumulations of yellowish fluid around the parts where flesh had been burnt. That was good. It meant the wound was draining properly, exuding serous liquid that would help the flesh to heal and eventually scar over. But the inflammation, the redness, worried you.

“It’s not purulent,” you said. “So that’s good.”

Daryl looked at you, eyebrows furrowed. He didn’t have to speak to convey his confusion at the SAT vocabulary word.

“There’s no pus,” you clarified. “No green drainage… But we should cover it up again.”

Nearby, you settled by an abandoned car, mangled and ravaged by time. It was a good cover for the moment as you sifted through a first aid bag you’d scavenged yesterday. Thank God you had, otherwise his arm might’ve looked much worse than it had.

As he knelt beside you, you set out a roll of gauze, then uncapped your canteen of water. Daryl couldn’t complain too much about you using the water to wash his wound now, considering how much it was beginning to burn.

The sting was worse than yesterday as you poured the cool liquid over it. You yourself winced at the sound of Daryl’s hiss, knowing full well that his tolerance for pain was much higher than anyone you knew, so that burn must’ve been agonizing.

Spinning the gauze around his arm, you wrapped the burn tight. He sighed softly in temporary relief, but he could already feel the festering begin to return.

The back of your hand situated itself against his forehead, brushing back the loose hairs as you did so.

You swallowed down the lump in your throat. He was warm. Daryl always ran a little warm, of course. You’d often referred to him as a human heater. But this was off for Daryl, warmer than you were used to feeling.

It terrified you.

The thought that this burn could be akin to a bite was one which haunted you the last two nights, keeping you ten times more aware of Daryl’s state at all times.

You’d seen plenty of people in the process of turning. You’d known the signs. It was hard to tell now. Daryl didn’t have enough of a fever to render him fatigued, but it was enough to worry you.

“How do you feel?” you asked, still brushing back the hairs that framed his face, as if fixing his hair could somehow improve his condition.

“Like shit.” He took a sip of water from your canteen. A small sip, of course, lest he leave you without enough water to keep you moving.

“You just need some rest,” you said, watching as he began to lift himself to his feet, with half his body weight supported by the spear that had served largely as his walking stick.

Clearly, he wasn’t going to be resting anytime soon.

“I’ll rest when the sun goes down,” he replied gruffly, while a gust of wind began to blow his hair in wild patterns across his face. You rose up, too, despite your body’s inescapable urge to sleep right there on the gravel. “We still got a few hours of sunlight… Best to keep movin’.”

With a strained grunt, he reached for his spear, pressing it into the dirt below as he started to lift himself, using the spear as leverage.

The day Daryl would listen to you when you asked him to rest was the day Hell would freeze over, but you couldn’t fight him. After all, you weren’t itching to stay put in any one place for too long. You had to keep moving, to try to find some kind of way back home.

You raised yourself to your feet alongside him, reaching into your backpack to tuck the gauze and your canteen back inside. But there was a slight tremble in your hand, and a racing of your heart as your body reacted to the intense burn of a distant stare before your mind even could.

Daryl felt it, too.

Practically in sync, both of you turned to face the direction of the stare. There was a cliff just ahead, surrounded by lush shrubbery. The distance was great enough to ease your paranoia, but still too close for comfort.

There was a figure atop the cliff, looking down. Well, you supposed so, despite not being able to make out the figure’s face. What you could see was a reddish cowl encircling their head, but the rest was simply the shape of a human, standing still, watching.

It sent a shiver down your spine, the inescapable fear of being watched suddenly taking hold over you. It was something you’d known since childhood, with frequent nightmares of a decrepit elderly man cupping his hands as he looked in through the window of your childhood bedroom, smiling wide at you. Despite your dream self’s attempts to escape, you couldn’t move, you could only cry as the man stared at you, watching you.

But of course, that man was only a figment of your imagination, a childhood fear that stuck with you all through your life. You hadn’t thought of that man in years, but now, feeling the eyes of a stranger on you, you felt it again. Only this was real. Well, perhaps it was a mirage, induced by the emptiness in your stomach and the fog in your head, but it did not matter. There was nothing you could do. Maybe that was what was so frightening about it.

“C’mon.” Daryl’s hand brushed your forearm, dislodging you from that momentary stupor. Fortunately, he seemed much less perturbed by the mysterious apparition, though he couldn’t deny the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Keep movin’.”

So you did, following behind him by just a few steps, until he stopped abruptly shortly after, examining the road sign standing before him. On its pole, a small piece of paper was plastered to it, with handmade strokes of black paint spelling out three words: DIEU VOUS AIME.

Your curiosity piqued, you quickly shrugged off one strap of your backpack, reaching back to unzip the largest pouch and grab the French-English dictionary you’d so wisely picked up back at the boat in Marseille.

Looking between the pages and the sign, you flipped through the book, until the phrase appeared among the list of D’s.

Daryl looked at you in waiting as you let out a slightly amused huff.

“God loves you,” you said.

“Pfft.”

An hour or so down the road, and the eerie light of the dying afternoon had begun its domain.

Sleep was the new objective, somewhere to hang your hats for the night that would soon be upon you.

Just ahead, beyond a desolate field of tall, green grass, was a lone building, decrepit and overgrown, with a thick, swirling layer of fog rolling over the ground at its base. Not particularly inviting, but it could be a good place for shelter.

The place was dilapidated, to the point where you could hardly tell what it had once been, but there was just enough shelter to provide some protection from the elements, and the dead. It looked as though there had once been a fire, as the walls were blackened and opened up into a courtyard through a section of destroyed wall.

As you stepped carefully, quietly, over fallen beams and overgrown twining vines, you set sight on a string tied between a bush and the wall, stretching across the walkway with rusty tin cans tied to the twine. Either someone had once called this place home, or someone still did.

Stepping over the trap, Daryl went first, with you following shortly behind, alertness as high as it possibly could be given the famished state you were in.

A rustling from your right startled you. Daryl moved somewhat quickly to peer around the edge of the wall into the open courtyard—a young woman, perhaps in her early twenties, standing by an overgrown well and pouring the water from the bucket into a tin pail.

Daryl didn’t get a very detailed look at the woman nor the area, but he could tell that he didn’t want anything to do with it.

You weren’t so sure, however. People were exactly who you needed. You wouldn’t be able to get home without people, and maybe this woman knew English. She could help you, somehow.

But Daryl backed up, too fast for you to notice that he was about to activate the tripwire just behind him.

As the cans rattled together, making a loud clanging sound, you almost felt a bit of relief.

Looking back towards the woman, you began to step forward, ahead of Daryl, who followed rather reluctantly.

Unsure of what to say as you met the woman’s gaze, coming further into the pale light of the diminishing day, you raised your hands up in a gesture of peace which you hoped was universal. Daryl followed suit, moving close behind you, despite his instinctual urge to stand in front of you. It took a great deal of willpower not to, but he figured you were possibly more friendly looking than him, with the huge spear he used as a walking stick.

“Bonjour,” was the only word you could make out, the rest was a blur of very beautiful-sounding gibberish. From an archway leading further into the building behind the woman came an elderly man hobbling in on a cane. So far, the first two French people you’d met turned out to be rather unintimidating, which was a good sign.

The two of you kept moving forward, perhaps more out of confusion than curiosity, but a part of you just wanted some semblance of human interaction. As much as you loved Daryl and his company, it was a sight for sore eyes to come face-to-face with another woman, even if you couldn’t understand anything she said.

But she seemed friendly enough, raising her hand in a wave as she carried the pail across the way, coming closer, but never too close. Finally, she spoke another word you could understand: “Madame? Monsieur?”

You turned to look at Daryl, whose face looked confounded, bordering on worried.

As per usual, you’d have to be the more sociable one.

“I’m sorry,” you began speaking, despite your fear that speaking in English might be a waste of breath. “We don’t understand you.”

On the contrary, the woman seemed… excited.

“Ay!” she exclaimed, the old man now right behind her as they slowly but surely moved closer. “You Americans? And I speak English very good!” Her mouth formed into a wide smile. So far, so good. “What’s crackin’, noobs?”

Despite your slight confusion at her use of the colloquial term, one you had not heard since you were in college, you smiled back, nodding.

The woman spoke another French term, and waved her hand, gesturing for you to come closer. You did so, despite Daryl’s hesitation as he looked at you. He didn’t have to speak or even sign to indicate what he thought: I don’t trust them.

But it didn’t matter whether either of you trusted them or not. They had food. They must’ve, as they looked to be pretty settled here, at least for the night.

He followed your lead, stepping faster to match your pace as you moved closer, further into the courtyard.

“My, uh… grandfather, he hurt the ankle” the woman spoke again, carrying her pail of water to a gently roaring fire. Around it were a few bags and crates used as seats. A modest setup, but comforting nonetheless. “Only… Only small English, him.” She gestured towards her grandfather, whose eyes were covered by a black cloth wrapped around his head. Still, he waved in your general direction, then started to speak.

“Hello,” he said.

You smiled, your heart beginning to soften at the sight of the poor elderly man. You always did have a soft spot for older people, one which Daryl feared would make you a little too eager to spare your medical supplies.

“Hello,” you spoke back.

Daryl said nothing.

The woman’s face turned more serious now. “You got medical?” You did not answer, unsure of what to say. While you did have it, you weren’t so sure you’d give it away on a whim. You already had one old man to take care of—Daryl. “We trade you for apple or, um, uh… a rabbit, maybe.”

“Very good rabbit,” chimed in the old man.

Daryl heard rabbit, and suddenly he was walking past you, coming closer to the woman as he slung his backpack off his shoulders.

The man was always food-motivated, afterall.

Setting his pack on the ground, he kneeled as he rummaged for the first aid kit. For a moment, he held it up, then tossed it underhand towards the woman.

“Merci,” said the old man.

“Merci,” the woman repeated, the first aid kit now in her hands. She pointed towards a wooden crate just a few yards away. “Food there.”

Daryl did not hesitate, hurriedly crossing over to the crate as if the offer would be taken away at any second. You followed suit, coming up behind him and taking the handful of shiny, red apples that he held out to you, while he himself bit into one and chewed it hungrily.

“So,” the woman continued, but for a moment, you couldn’t hear her over the sound of your own chewing as you bit into an apple. “Where are you going to?”

This time, Daryl answered before you even had a chance to speak. The fact that they had given you food must’ve warmed him up a little bit.

“Back where we came from,” he said matter-of-factly, looking up at the woman to address her, then returning to gathering as many apples in his hands as he could.

“Across the ocean?” questioned the woman again.

“Yeah,” Daryl answered.

As he stood up, you both looked curiously at the woman, who spoke something to the old man in their native language. They appeared to be laughing, too. You wondered, in that self-conscious way the two of you shared, if they were making fun of you. Not that it mattered terribly, since the idea of someone making fun of you was nothing compared to what most people in this world would do without any hesitation. If subtle ridiculing was the worst of what you got out of these people, you’d consider yourselves lucky.

With a huff, the woman sat herself down on an upside down crate, whilst holding the skewered rabbit that had been roasting over the fire. Your mouth practically watered at the sight, which must’ve meant you were truly on the verge of starving. It took a lot for you to want to eat a rabbit.

“I’m Maribelle,” she said with a smile. Next, she pointed to her grandfather. “Um, he Guillaume. So maybe we go together, you know?”

That piqued your interest, but Daryl moved behind you, taking the apples to his pack and almost hurriedly stuffing them inside.

“Get somewhere safe, maybe?” Maribelle continued, and you wanted so much to say something, to say yes. Anything would help. Of course, you knew you couldn’t trust these people, and something about them, despite their friendliness, threw you off. Daryl must’ve felt it, too, because almost as soon as he settled in, he was ready to get out of there. “You can help us. We can help you find a way.”

Following Daryl, you knelt down beside him as he packed. You couldn’t speak much above a very hushed whisper. “They can help us get back.”

He looked up at you momentarily, a stern look in his eye. “No.”

“Hey, yankees.” Suddenly, Guillaume spoke up. You both looked his way.

Guillaume spoke more, but only in French. You turned your attention back to Maribelle, your eyes begging for translation.

She spoke with a slight laugh. “All the time he talk about World War II.”

“La résistance,” Guillaume continued, like the ramblings of your grandfather. In fact, you recalled his stories from that war, how young he was when he was stationed in England. Not quite France, but close enough. “U.S. GI’s fight together. Your country, my country. Like friends.”

Daryl did not say anything, only turned his attention back to packing his bag. You stood up slowly, managing a smile. You weren’t sure if the man could see it, but you wanted to somehow convey to him that you appreciated his ideology. Afterall, you needed friends.

But you couldn’t think of what to say. You knew Daryl was not going to budge, and it wasn’t your place to accept his offer of friendship. All you could do was think of something nice to say, but before you could, Guillaume spoke again, catching onto the silence that lingered for several moments.

“You are no friend,” he said, a tinge of vitriol in his voice.

“There ain’t no countries no more, neither,” Daryl replied.

You huffed, frustrated by his coldness. It wasn’t your favorite side of Daryl, his harshness, but you couldn’t entirely blame him—he was stressed, injured, and sad. You could tell, despite him never letting it really show. He held emotions inside, whereas you wore them on your sleeve. Still, you knew him better than anyone else, and you knew that this situation you found yourselves in was taking a greater toll on him than even he realized. You hadn’t pressed him about it much, but you knew: he missed your babies.

He missed home. He missed your friends. He missed the life he’d devoted himself to creating with you. Ultimately, he was tired.

Before you could try to talk some sense into him, though, you heard something that startled you: a distant roaring of an engine, coming closer. Fast.

Daryl stood up quickly as a rather militaristic looking jeep came through the wide archway into the courtyard. Two men were sitting in the front seat of the uncovered vehicle, both armed with guns.

Upon the hood of the vehicle was some kind of symbol painted in white that you couldn’t quite make out without taking your eyes off the two men as they stepped out, their guns seemingly locked and loaded.

Daryl kept a firm grip on his spear, you on your knife. Still, there wasn’t much you could do against a gun, especially in this open area.

As the men came forward, you took note of their appearance: each were heavily armed and wore camouflage patterns. They looked like some sort of paramilitary group, and from your history with such groups, you were not looking to make friends.

One of the men set his sights on you and Daryl, while saying something in French. All you could do was stare back at him, until he raised his gun, speaking again. This time, he spoke more commandingly.

Your heart dropped for a moment, but Maribelle spoke quickly to the man, then turned to face you both. She held her hands up, as if in surrender.

“Sit down, he said,” she said to you seriously.

Daryl exchanged a quick look with you, somewhere between reassurance and a warning of cautiousness. In situations like this, perhaps you fell into that old trap of taking the man’s lead, but Daryl had had a gun pointed at him many more times than you had, and it was true that he looked much more threatening than you, so you followed his lead, walking several steps with him over to the crates around the fire that were being used as seats. If you were going to sit down for two French assholes with guns, you were at least going to be a little bit comfortable.

Now sitting, each of you dropped your weapons, slowly raising your hands to match Maribelle. The two men seemed to trust you both much less than they did Maribelle and Guillaume, as both their guns were pointed towards you—one of you, one on Daryl. It was not quite reassuring.

One of the men began to speak to Maribelle again, going back and forth for a moment. The only word you could make out was American, which you weren’t sure was a good thing, given the way the man looked at you both suspiciously.

No, you did not like these guys one bit.

And now, after a few more rather ominous sounding words in French, he came forward, taking Maribelle by the shoulder and tugging on her jacket, pulling her away to God knows where. Though you couldn’t understand what he had said, you feared for Maribelle, knowing the kinds of things men could do, especially to women… It boiled your blood, especially as she tried to get away, yelling something at him in French and struggling against him.

The other man, meanwhile, kept his sawed-off double-barrelled shotgun pointed at Daryl, but he looked away, his eyes focused on the scene as the other man struggled to drag Maribelle away. When he became frustrated with her reluctance, he backhanded her hard, the force causing her to fall down with a thud.

And, with one look exchanged between you and Daryl, you knew it was time to do something… So much for making friends.

Daryl moved first, reaching for the knife he kept strapped to his leg and standing up to grab his spear with the other hand. He moved faster than you, and faster than the man who was supposed to be keeping an eye on you.

He used the blunt edge of his spear to first hit the man’s leg, then, as he raised his gun to defend himself, Daryl disarmed him, then dropped his spear to raise his knife and puncture his neck.

You stood up, too, sprinting towards the gun that had been dropped on the ground, while Daryl held the dying man in front of him like a meat shield. If there was one thing about Daryl, it was that he was resourceful.

But just before you could get your hands on the shotgun, the other man came towards you both, shouting in French as he held his gun out. In a matter of seconds, he fired, shooting towards Daryl.

The loud gunshot made you flinch and grab your ears as you instinctively flung yourself onto the ground, trying to dodge it. Immediately, though, you looked up, your sights setting on Daryl, himself on the ground, holding the left side of his neck and sticking out his right hand in surrender. The man did not seem so eager to show mercy, leaning down beside you to pick up the shotgun and point it towards Daryl.

“No!” you cried out rather helplessly, crawling on hands and knees to Daryl’s side. If you couldn’t sacrifice yourself for him, you’d die together. At least you’d die knowing you tried to save him.

But Maribelle moved quicker, striking the man in the back with Guillaume’s cane. The blow was so hard that he fell to the ground, allowing Daryl to quickly stand up and grab the shotgun. As he held his bleeding neck, he pointed the barrel towards the fallen man.

“Stop,” said Maribelle, coming forward with a spear. “Save the powder.” She plunged the spear into the man’s chest, causing you to wince in slight surprise.

Maribelle turned to Daryl, uttering a simple, “Merci.”

Quickly, you stood up, coming over to daryl and removing his hand from his neck to get a look at the damage. Obviously, the bullet must’ve only grazed him, because if the bullet had gone just a bit more to the right, he might not even have a head right now.

“Just a superficial graze,” you said, taking off your glove and pressing it to his face as a bandage, but of course you’d need something more suitable.

As you carefully helped him sit down on his knees, you called out to Maribelle, “Can you hand me the medical bag, please?”

All your attention, now, was on him, so much so that you didn’t notice how suspiciously silent it was, and how the two Frenchpeople did not seem eager to help.

But that was all peripheral to you, as you brushed back Daryl’s long hair to get a better look at the injury.

“You’re gonna be fine,” you said, with just a tiny curl of your lip to offer him some comfort.

And it did, his tired eyes softening as he felt your hand caress his cheek. Despite the stinging pain and the feeling of blood seeping into the glove you held tight against his wound, he couldn’t help but believe you. If there was anything in this world he truly believed in, after all, it was you.

But there was a horrible sense of suspicion growing between you, a lingering threat that became more and more apparent with each step the man behind Daryl took.

You raised your eyes, and Daryl turned to look at whatever had caught your attention—Guillaume.

His eyes were uncovered now, and beady with aggressive intent. But most startlingly, he held his wooden cane much too high for your comfort. He wielded it more like a baseball bat than a walking stick.

But he wouldn’t do what you thought he was going to do, would he?

Yes. He would.

The cane struck Daryl across the head, knocking him to the ground. Eyes wide as you started to lift yourself, you were met with the same fate: a strong hit to the head that sent you back down, reeling in pain.

You weren’t unconscious, though. Neither was Daryl, who opened his eyes despite the intense blurring that obstructed his vision. He caught sight of Guillaume, rummaging through his bag, while Maribelle got to work rifling through yours, throwing out its contents with carelessness as she seemed to be searching for something more useful than the maps and blankets you’d collected along the way from Marseille.

Notably, though, you watched the blonde Barbie doll you’d carefully tucked away in your bag get tossed behind her back like a worthless piece of junk. It almost riled you into a fit of sudden strength, but your head swam too much to allow your legs to carry you.

Your eyes became fixed on that doll, left abandoned amongst overgrown blades of faded green grass. Somewhere in your haze, as unconsciousness threatened to take over, was her voice, speaking the words she said to you before you left: “It’s okay, Mommy,” she said, her small voice echoing in the dizzied cavern of your head.

Just then, you felt a presence coming towards you, one which seemed both known and unknown.

Turning your head, your heavy eyes focused as well as they could on the approaching figure, cautiously side-stepping into the courtyard. Though you could not make out their face, you recognized one thing: a red cowl.

“We’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.”

A gunshot rang out, muffled by your fading consciousness. It had come from the approaching figure, and had seemingly run off Maribelle and Guillaume, which may have been either a good thing, or a bad thing.

“Maybe when you get back, Wes will know some more words.”

Your eyelids became immensely burdensome, and with each blink, you found yourself unable to keep them open for much longer.

“Yes… Robin…”

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are always appreciated!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter ➳

#begin again series #begin again #the walking dead #the walking dead: daryl dixon #daryl dixon #daryl dixon spin-off #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead: daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #norman reedus #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus fanfic #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x you

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escapedaudios · 3 months

Text

Grouchy rant/Audio roleplay pet peeve: I lose it when a character's description based on exposotion/backstory doesn't actually align with their actual on-screen actions. This is especially bad with Listener characters because a lot of VAs/writers just don't know how to write Listener action, or neglect to let Listener characters interact with anyone other than their love interest.

It's so aggravating. A character will be like "This is my fiance, Demon-Stomper 9000 (but I call her Pookie). She's stomped a hundred demons and she's gonna stomp a hundred more. Sometimes I've gotta be like 'woah Pookie, you've gotta stop stomping so many demons, you might hurt yourself'."

Then when a demon is actually on screen Pookie is just like 🧍‍♀️

On my soul, give the Listener some *flavor* and let them DO SOMETHING. On screen! It doesn't even have to be in action scenes, like just for fucks sake show don't tell for once. It's very much possible within the realm of audio roleplay, it just takes a little bit of thinking and a couple of sound effects. Trust me, you'll accomplish more characterization with five minutes of them actually doing something than you would with a hundred hours of expositional backstory.

This happens with speaker characters too, and it's awful. The title of the series will be like "Mafia Boss: Criminal Chronicle [Strangers to Lovers]" then in the actual audios the mafia boss never actually commits any crimes or involves himself in anything illegal and doesn't even talk about crime. He just wears expensive suits and has a really deep voice.

Quick rule: if the audience could listen to the full length of a mafia audio and not be able to tell that the character was in a criminal organization, you didn't make a mafia audio. You just didn't, idgaf what the title says. Image watching a whole episode of the Sopranos without crime being mentioned even once. It would suck. Same with werewolves, vampires, or whatever other trope is getting abused this week.

IDK why this is such a problem in the audio roleplay medium compared to every other medium ever. We've got mafia bosses that don't commit crimes, we've got werewolves who don't turn into wolves, we've got pirate captains who don't commit piracy, we've got vampires who don't drink blood, and we've got yanderes who don't, uh, yander. It's out of control. Just commit to the character type you said you would write in the first place.

This was way longer than I intended it to be so TL;DR: Show don't tell still applies in audios, Listener characters can and should take an active role in the story, and please PLEASE stop marketing your characters around tropes that you neglect to actually write into your audios.

#let pookie stomp something #audio roleplay #rant #boyfriend asmr #asmr roleplay

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 1 month

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I've seen a few people saying that the people who don't like how Lila is written are just impatient or lack imagination, can we be certain beyond all reasonable doubt that that's not true?

Alright, I'll play devil's advocate for you and show you how, even if we view Lila's writing in the most favorable light possible, it's still perfectly reasonable to have no faith in her as the main villain. In fact, to my line of thinking, it's a little insane to have any faith that she'll be good moving forward. For the sake of your own mental well being, expect her to be terrible otherwise you will likely be terribly disappointed.

The main argument against Lila is that she tells really stupid obvious lies that no one would be fooled by, so how can she possible be seen as a master manipulator by the audience? Well, if we accept that Lila's lies were just exaggerated for the sake of humor the same way that Marinette's crush is played up for humor, then we can hope that that humor will go away and that she'll be played serious now that she's our main antagonist.

This is actually a fair argument. I truly think that this might have been the intent, it just failed to land because the lies are a serious plot point while Marinette's crush antics are not. People wanted Lila outed and every lie was used to hurt Marinette, so the quality of Lila's lies mattered because that's the way that the way that you out a liar. Marinette's crush was never going to be outed by her antics. They were the main way that the writers kept the crush going for five seasons without outing it!

So while you might find the antics just as frustrating as the lies, the expectations built around the antics were met. They never lead to anything. Meanwhile, the expectations built around the lies were never met. Lila was outed by a forced confession, not by her lies even though, when you introduce a liar, audiences will expect the lies to be their undoing. So the lies are bad writing in and of themselves, which is strike one, but we can hope they change so let's move on to strike two: the lie's effect on the cast.

Marinette's antics only made her look bad while Lila's lies made everyone look bad. This is a big, concerning issue since we know that Lila will be a student at Marinette's school again, meaning that it's perfectly reasonable to assume that she'll keep on lying. It's also reasonable to assume that she'll be in every episode.

Even if you take Lila in the kindest light possible and assume that she told decent lies, the writers appear to only know how to write her by dumbing everyone else down and that's concerning. Characters like Max and Alya are supposed to be smart. Max looks into everything and quotes random statistics. Yet he never questioned Lila even though a smart kid like him would be inclined to look into some of the stuff she says just out of pure curiosity and a desire to learn.

We could pretend that Lila told a believable lie about Ladybug like "Ladybug saved me" instead of "Ladybug is my best friend," but even then, Alya learning Marinette's identity still should have been the end of Lila's power over Alya. But the writers didn't know how to handle Alya knowing since Alya would confront Lila, so Alya stayed on team Lila even though it makes no sense and makes her look terrible.

We could pretend that Lila planted better evidence than doilies that Marinette could have taken for free from her parent's shop. That still doesn't excuse Tom and Sabine from immediately believing that their daughter was a thief. They're supposed to be good parents who trust their kid, but the writers don't know how to write that around Lila.

And giving Lila all of that grace makes no sense because it relies on you giving the writers faith that they haven't earned. They had full control over Lila! They knew that she was going to be the next big bad! And yet they wrote her in a way that is totally unbelievable.

Even if Lila's upgrade was decided late in the game, they still could have spent seasons five changing her character to be smarter, but they didn't. Most of the above examples come from season five! It's perfectly reasonable to look at that and say, "I have no faith that you're going to completely reimagine this character into something interesting instead of something frustrating because you have spent five seasons writing her poorly."

And if that's still not enough for you, then here's strike three: The writers have proven time and time again that they cannot write a truly clever character. Lila's most convincing episodes are petty BS that she makes up on the fly. When it comes to complex plots? Lila, Gabriel, and Marinette never come across as particularly impressive.

Others have talked about this, but pretty much every big dramatic plan relies on the writers being able to control the characters' actions. They're not plans that would actually work. Here are just a few examples:

Lila's plan to go to the mansion and get the butterfly only works because the writers know that the butterfly will be unguarded. No reasonable person would assume that would happen because why would it? So why did she go to the mansion? What was her original plan? How does she even know that the butterfly is up for grabs? In a good story, she would have had a plan that lead her to the mansion, but that plan gets scrapped based on what she sees. We don't get that good quality writing because the writers already know that the butterfly will be open season so they never bothered to make Lila's actions logical to any other scenario. They didn't even bother to have her watching the final fight.

Along similar lines, Gabriel only gets all of the miraculouses because Adrien has an evil twin who shows up when the plot demands it. Without Felix, Gabriel would have once again failed and Felix's betrayal makes no sense, especially after his season five characterization. Felix fears his uncle, why offer all of the miraculous AND Adrien's ring? Why not only offer a few? And why is Gabriel able to open the yo-yo and get the miraculouses? The yo-yo opens to a phone, the miraculouses, and a purse. Why would Gabriel be able to control which one it opens to or even open it at all? Especially since access to the miraculouses was implied to be a Guardian power. And why does Felix not immediately betray Gabriel? He's got no reason to stay loyal and he supposedly wants his uncle stopped. Answer: because then the plot would fall apart.

Marinette's plan to hide her identity via the kwamis was asinine and clearly made up last minute by the writers. It would have been very easy to foreshadow this plan by having her hide something in Chat Noir's bell back in season four, but they didn't because the writers didn't actually plan out this plan. There's also the fact that we're apparently supposed to think that the Tom and Sabines is the only bakery in Paris? "Follow the smell of croissants" would not get you to a specific bakery nor would it get you to Marinette's room. It would get you to the bakery. Yet Gabriel goes to the right bakery and to Marinette's room because that's what the writers needed him to do.

I just... how can anyone look at the last five seasons and think, "oh sure, this show can handle having someone who plots and manipulates as the main villain! I'm sure that will lead to lots of satisfying episodes?"

It's not impossible, miracles do happens, but it's the height of arrogance - or perhaps desperation - to act like it's unreasonable to assume that the first five seasons weren't a reasonable representation of the writing quality that we'll be seeing in future seasons. They're not replacing the writing team. What you've seen is most likely also what you'll get. Do you have five bad meals at a restaurant and then say, "It's unreasonable to assume that meal six will be bad, too! Have some faith in the chef."

#ml writing salt #ml writing critical #ml season 5 salt #lila salt #ml fandom critical

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hyperactivewhore · 4 months

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Why do you think that many people tend to devalue Klaus’s relationship with Cami, Aurora, and even Hayley? Honestly, I think that out of all his love interests in the show, Klaus truly only loved Cami, Aurora, and Hayley. Cami understood Klaus very well, and she loved him despite all his flaws. Cami encouraged him to become a better person for Hope. And when Klaus was imprisoned, the person he imagined was Cami.

Klaus was hung up on Aurora for centuries. He painted her constantly. While he loved Cami, he definitely also loved Aurora. He’s the type of person that falls in love forever. And while this is a super unpopular opinion, I think that if he was alive during Legacies, he would’ve ended up with Aurora.

Hayley wasn’t really a love interest and I don’t think Klaus loved her romantically - but he totally loved her platonically. She was his best friend. He truly valued her as a person and respected her so much.

Say what you want about Klaus, but he had excellent taste in romantic partners. All his lovers, including Caroline, are beautiful and amazing. And this is no hate to Caroline and Klaus shippers, but I really think that Klaus only loved Cami, Aurora, and Hayley. His feelings for Caroline are rather shallow when compared to his feelings for Cami, Aurora, and Hayley - so why do you think so many people ship Caroline and Klaus together?

Oh anon, I love talking about Klaus Mikaelson and his fucked up relationships.

Why people ship klaroline? Whenever I come across shippers of them, they always say it's because Klaus and Caroline had the biggest chemistry in all of tvdu. Which, in my opinion, is false. I personally think Caroline looks uncomfortable and pissed off with Klaus in half of their interactions, and their development is so bad done and weird so they just have him give her puppy eyes out of nowhere and have her laughing at his jokes when she hated him the episode before.

I think that a big part of why people ship klaroline is because Caroline was the first woman Klaus showed an romantic interest in in the series. We have Klaus who is the villain, who until the moment has been nothing but evil to everyone around him and out of nowhere he gets soft for her, so people lost their shit and started shipping them like crazy. Which mind you, is exactly like happened: Candice herself said klaroline just happened because the fans liked them.

But in my opinion it was just stupid. If they wanted Klaus to have any interest in Caroline, they should have built it better; the only explanation we get of his interest in her is nearly ten years later when Caroline says in The Originals she believes he only liked her because she reminded him of when he was human, innocent and young. And I kinda get this, because despite how much he goes on about being feared Klaus does love having people who say he can be saved, loved and etc.

The fact that the plot and timeline was often bended to their will is a turn off for many fans as well and it always pissed me off too because it didn't make sense and still doesn't. The biggest example I can think of right now is when Klaus sent her money for the Salvatore school: he was supposed to be trapped in Marcel's dungeon by then, but the timeline of these shows has never made any sense anyway. Or how in they inserted Klaus in every one of Caroline's scenes in The Originals; Daniel Gillies himself was upset by this, they even had to delete some of his scenes to fit hers in, which is a reason of why season five was so rushed and full of bad writing.

But honestly that's the main reason I can think of. Whenever I stumble across a klaroline ship the comments always are "their chemistry" or "they look so good together" and more things about the ship. I honestly think klaroline wouldn't have blew up the way it did if it had been done these last years, but many of the plots that there are in tvd wouldn't have made it to the screen if it had been streaming this year.

I fully agree with his other ships. Canonically Klaus just loved romantically three women: Tatia, Aurora and Camille. However, I don't really think he was in love with Tatia, just infatuated. He's not as affected by her as Elijah is, but once Klaus loves you or he takes a serious romantic interest in someone he really never forgets about them: Camille and Aurora are the biggest proof of this.

Losing Aurora really took a toll on him and shaped him to be the character we know and people often brush over this because they don't like Aurora/for shipping reasons. I think she's his most interesting romantic relationship, and they're my favorite tvdu ship. It's kinda canon he loved her more than any of his other love interests and don't get me wrong, I love Klaus and Camille but in my opinion Klaus always forgot about her whenever Aurora was around which just pissed me off.

If Cami had remained dead by the time Legacies took place, I do believe Klaus and her would have gotten back together. To me, Aurora was never truly evil and I think they should have handled her character better, but Klaus understood her even after everything she did to him and viceversa, and their chemistry is just so perfect and they had sexual tension in every one of their interactions. But if Cami had been alive, I honestly think Klaus would have remained with her.

Everyone who follows me knows I believe Klaus loved Aurora romantically the most, but by the time Legacies takes place Klaus would probably adore Cami a lot more than it's already shown in canon and perhaps they would even be married, and she was good for him and his family. In the modern day, Aurora wasn't good for him or his family at all (she was literally trying to kill Hope) and in general, she needed to work on herself, to try to let go of Tristan's abuse before getting into a relationship with the man whose family is responsible for her fucked up mental health.

However, I do think Hope would stop her family if they tried to kill Aurora, she's really empathetic in these kind of things and they had a slight respect for each other by the time Aurora died. Klaus and her would probably talk, perhaps she would even have a conversation with Camille before leaving to live her best life which it's what should have happened in canon. Hayley would probably thank her for saving her daughter too, and I think they - by this I mean the whole Mikaelson family - would agree to try to not kill each other again, but who knows with them?

I love Klaus and Hayley together. Whether people ship them romantically or not isn't important to me, I can see their potential and though I personally think they wouldn't work, I can understand why other people do. I really like how often she stands up to him whenever she feels he's getting too cocky, or when it comes to their daughter. I love how much their relationship developed in the last three seasons and how gutted he was after her death, he didn't just love her for being his mother's daughter but for being his best friend and family. It was beautiful for me to see how much Hayley fought for him and never gave up, they deserved to raise their daughter together or at least, Hope deserved it.

And I honestly agree: he has amazing taste. I would get with any of these girls in an instant, they're all beautiful.

#anti klaroline #klaus mikaelson #hayley marshall #aurora de martel #camille o'connell #caroline forbes #klamille #klayley #klaurora #the originals #the vampire diaries #legacies

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trainsinanime · 8 months

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I know I'm a bit late to this debate, but I just want to say:

The Bubbler is the pilot episode, not Stormy Weather

I don't care about production order or which one aired first in France, that stuff is unreliable anyway, especially so in the early seasons. No, what matter is that the episode is clearly written like a pilot.

The opening of the episode introduces us to Marinette and her initial defining characteristic: She's in love with Adrien, whose birthday it is today. We also get introduced to Sabine and get shown Marinette's relationship with her, which, true to form for any pilot, is a bit off—Marinette has to clean up her room, else her mom will do it and snoop around for hidden journals. It's playful, but it's not something we ever see again. That's the way it goes with pilot episodes sometimes.

Then we also see Adrien and his relationship to his dad and with Nathalie, and the defining things here. Again, it's a bit off. This Nathalie, who either didn't know or forgot that she has to buy Adrien's birthday gift, is clearly not the same woman who hunted for the Miraculous as part of a doomed love triangle while trying to create him from magic.

We also get Nino (considerably more child-like here than later on) and his relationship with Adrien; Alya and her relationship with Marinette; Chloé and her relationship with both Adrien and Marinette. It's all very basic setup stuff and that's the point.

This still applies when we see Ladybug and Chat Noir, and are introduced to their dynamic. The episode even takes the time to have Ladybug do something selfish and pointless (switch the record) just so we get an opportunity to talk about the five-minute timer and recharging your Kwamis.

And most importantly, the akumatisation is also all about Adrien, Gabriel and Nino and how they relate to each other. Season 1 is full of one-off akuma characters whose personal pain is only tangentially relevant to us, but Bubbler is absolutely not that.

Stormy Weather has none of that. It's main plot is about characters (Mireille and Aurore) who we don't know, who don't matter and even don't get a proper introduction. The B-plot is a bit about Adrinette, but also a lot about Marinette's relationship with Manon, who hardly counts as a core part of the group. Characters like Gabriel (in normal form), Nathalie and Chloé don't even appear. It's still a fun episode, but it doesn't do anywhere as much setup as Bubbler did.

The Bubbler was written like a pilot episode, and that's why I will continue to treat it as such. And no, you're right, this does not matter at all, I just wanted to say it anyway.

#miraculous ladybug #mlb meta

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thesoftboiledegg · 6 months

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"How Poopy Got His Poop Back" was OK. The plot was generic, but after 61 episodes, I'm not going to expect every outing to be a mindblowing sci-fi spectacular. Sometimes, it's nice to have a lowkey episode that catches up with old characters, especially since we thought two of them died in season two.

"Squanch! Told you he wasn't dead." The writers knew what we were thinking. I also thought Gearhead died at the end of "Mortynight Run," but I guess he's harder to kill than he looks.

I enjoyed checking in with Bird Person and Bird Daughter--looks like he's got his hands full--and was glad that Rick continued his character development from season six. He's still a hot mess, but he tries to do the right thing for his friends and even the robot ("Hang on, let me go upstairs and grab the business finisher.") The subtext gave the episode some depth so that it wasn't just twenty minutes of pointless hijinks.

Rick's new voice actor nailed his characterization, too. His voice stood out a little at first, but I'd forgotten about the new actor by the second act, and his voice sounds "normal" upon rewatches. I guess it just takes a short adjustment period.

Whatever the case, any drunk guy at a bar can burp and stutter like Rick, but the new actor (whoever he is) picked up right where Roiland left off. He might not sound exactly like Rick 100% of the time, but combining Rick's trademark blunt raspiness with his lower, gentler tones from the past few seasons is more impressive.

Speaking of actors: who voiced Mr. Poopybutthole? He sounded EXACTLY like Justin Roiland. Maybe it was the same actor who voiced Morty, who also did well.

On another note, I loved seeing Space Beth eating breakfast with the family. Ditching your kids to be a pirate/rebel/space badass/whatever isn't the feminist act that a lot of shows seem to think it is, and I'm glad that Rick and Morty subverted that trope. Space Beth can love her family AND save the universe. She's a modern woman who wants to have it all!

On to Morty. I don't have much to say about him, and this review suggests that he doesn't have much to do next week, either--which hints at a continuation of season six's biggest issue. Season six was great, but half the episodes were The Rick Sanchez Show. When Morty did appear, he didn't have much to do until he finally lost his patience in the finale.

I won't dive into his dynamic with Morty because you could write pages of meta on that one, but in summary: their dynamic is the core of the series, and I hope the writers don't keep separating them. C-137 Rick's attachment to his Morty is a sharp contrast to the other Ricks who treat theirs like disposable toys.

Back to this episode: Rick's doing better--he's dressing and showering, he's communicating with his family, and he's even willing to abandon his search for a few hours--but Prime's still the center of his universe. Season five also started small and concluded with insane twists that turned the show inside out, and I'm betting that this laid-back opener is the start of a similar acceleration.

This episode alone made up about a fourth of the trailer scenes, so goddamn: what aren't we seeing?

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #how poopy got his poop back #review #season seven

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morallyinept · 2 months

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A full transcribe of JOEL MILLER'S dialogue/lines from the TV show THE LAST OF US.

EPISODE 9 - LOOK FOR THE LIGHT

Includes full dialogue, and dialogue from any deleted/additional scenes available.

I've created this as a point of reference when writing for Pedro's characters, and I hope you find it useful. Even if you just want to read the dialogue. 🖤

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

☝🏻Dialogue has been fully transcribed by myself using reference to original scripts (if available), audio subtitles and using my own two ears. Therefore, mistakes can be made, however I have tried to be as fully accurate as I can. If you spot an obvious mistake, please kindly let me know. Where audio is not clear, I have marked with *inaudible* Scenes are separated for ease of reference.

FULL SCRIPT DIALOGUE:

Ellie. Ellie. Ellie! Did ya hear me?

Well, I found this in there. Beefaroni. Chef Boyardee.

And have you ever played this? Boggle? It’s a word game.

If you wanna beat me at somethin’, it would be this.

Well, alright then. We’re gettin’ close.

Hospital that way. May be the one we’re lookin’ for.

Take this for me? Thanks.

They had a guitar in that RV. It was all smashed up, but got me thinkin’, maybe I should find one. I haven’t played in forever. In fact, I was thinkin’ maybe I could teach you. I bet you’d be great at it.

Do you wanna learn how to play guitar? Ellie?

__________________

Okay, so this is what I’m thinkin’-

Uh… actually, this time I was thinkin’ we blast our way through that rubble. I found some dynamite in that RV back there.

No, so we’re gonna cut through that building, find a skyscraper, go up and look around. But I had you goin’, didn’t I?

__________________

Look at this place. Talk about bad luck. Military drops bombs, not one of them hits the building you’re trying to demolish. No way up.

If I get you up there, you can drop that ladder down, maybe we go through that way. Come on, I’ll give you a boost.

You okay?

It’s just you kinda seem extra quiet today, so…

No, it’s fine. Did you hear what I-

One, two… up!

Ya got it?

Goddamn it, Ellie! Shit. You stay there!

Ellie?!

Ellie!

Ellie. Just wait. Goddamn it.

I won’t.

It’s alright. Come here, hurry up. Come on.

Okay.

So… is it everything ya hoped for?

Look, I don’t know exactly where this hospital is-

Sure, it’s just… Maybe there’s nothin’ bad out there, but so far there’s always been somethin’ bad out there.

I know. I’m only saying there’s a risk. We don’t have to do this. I just… I want you to know that.

Nothin’. We just go back to Tommy’s. We forget about the whole damn thing.

__________________

No. Army. They put these places up all around the first few days after the outbreak. Emergency medical camps. Obviously didn't last. They had me in one just like this.

No, she was gone already.

It was for this.

No. Second day.

It was me. I was the guy who shot and missed.

There’s no story. Sarah died… and I couldn't see the point anymore. Simple as that. And I wasn't scared either. I was ready. I couldn’t have been more ready. And when I… when I… went to pull the trigger, I-I flinched. Still don’t know why. Anyway, the reason I’m telling you all this-

Yeah, I reckon you do.

It wasn’t time that did it.

Me too.

Yeah.

You know what I’m in the mood for?

Shitty puns.

No, it’s topical.

Oh, that’s terrible.

That’s a… that’s a zero outta ten.

That was a three outta ten.

I’ll give it a five. Five outta ten.

Ellie? Ellie!

__________________

Where’s Ellie?

Where is she?

It was all her. She fought like hell to get here.

Just take me to her.

What surgery?

Why is she in surgery?

Cordyceps grows inside the brain.

Find someone else.

No. No, you take me to her. You take me to her right now!

Please… you don’t understand.

And I do.

__________________

Which way?

Where is she?

I don’t have time for this.

__________________

Unhook her.

I said unhook her.

Unhook her.

Move!

Cover her arm. Fast.

Turn around.

__________________

Maybe. But it isn’t for you to decide.

__________________

It’s alright. You’re with me. Take it slow. The drugs are still wearin’ off.

They were runnin’ some tests on you… and some others. Turns out there’s a whole lot more like you… people that are immune. Dozens of ‘em. And the doctors, they couldn’t make any of it work. They’ve actually… They’ve stopped lookin’ for a cure.

Raiders attacked the hospital. I barely got ya outta there. We’ll find you some new ones on the way.

Yes.

I’m takin’ us home.

I’m sorry.

__________________

You’d just come after her.

__________________

Well, she got us close enough. We gotta walk the rest of the way. Probably about a five hour hike… but we can manage that. Remember?

__________________

You know, Sarah and I used to hike like this all the time. I wouldn’t say it was her favourite thing. She wasn’t a fan of mosquitoes and such. But she was a big climber… or scamperer. That’s probably the right word. That girl… she’d see a big rock, and just… pshoo! She woulda liked you. Not to say the two of you are the same. Definitely different kids.

Well, she was a lot more… I wanna say “girly”, and I’m not sayin’ that you’re not girly.

Yeah, you’re not. So that. She was taller. She had a killer smile. Again, not saying that you don’t. But you know why I think she’d like you?

'Cause you’re funny. I think you would’ve made her laugh. Anyway, I bet you would’ve liked her back.

__________________

There ya go. Not much further now.

That’s not on you.

Look, sometimes things don’t work out the way we hope. You can feel like… like you’ve come to an end… and you don’t know what to do next. But if you just keep goin’... you find something new to fight for. And maybe that’s not what you want-

I swear.

__________________

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller tlou #joel miller the last of us #pedro pascal characters #joel miller dialogue #pedro pascal character dialogue

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carefulfears · 11 months

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top five annoying mulder moments <3

okay, i have two lists for you: annoying moments that i find endearing, and annoying moments that make me want to beat him over the head with a chair

annoying moments that i find endearing:

(as of today, these could all be different tomorrow)

1/ "you mean i might get my 29.95 worth after all?" (731)

insane thing to say with 6 minutes to live about the mail-order VHS tape that might save your life. the way he casually cracked jokes in front of that bomb haunts me. unfortunately, this joke made me laugh so hard when i first watched this episode, that it became a core memory of the show to me, and it's still one of my favorite lines

related: putting on a comedy show for the nazis in the pine bluff variant

"ooh, is this the pepsi challenge? how 'bout some fresh air, boys" "you can just call me a cab, that'd be fine" sir they are about to execute you in a field

2/ his general behavior with the neighbors in arcadia

not his behavior towards scully, that's a different thing. i'm talking about mulder showing up in a neighborhood that deeply values regulations and appearances, and dragging out his basketball hoop at 10:30 at night. kicking mailboxes. putting that plastic flamingo in the lawn.

he went undercover in this subdivision to investigate the disappearances of multiple missing families, and his entire investigative strategy, is to fuck around and find out.

the fact that the neighbors start off concerned for him, worried that the monster is going to kill him for violating the HOA rules, and trying to warn him and help him, but eventually are so irritated that they decide to just leave him to die

is without a doubt my favorite thing about this episode.

3/ running in front of a car (colony)

literally made eye contact with the driver and kept running into traffic....busted up that guy's whole windshield.....like he went THROUGH that guy's windshield.....once again, i say, do you have ANY IDEA HOW PISSED I WOULD BE to just be minding my own business driving home from work, and end up with a MULDER-SHAPED HOLE in my windshield.....and then he just mumbled something about getting the wind knocked out of him?? and got up and kept running?? you KNOW he didn't pay for that guy's car. used "i got hit by a car" as an excuse for not filing his report on time??? i love him but he is not serious people

4/ reading the articles in a porno mag at the office (the jersey devil)

the jersey devil my most beloved most watched episode ever....cannot even express to you how funny i find it that when scully got into work, he's just sitting there staring intently at porn and starts telling her about the articles. he turns the magazine so that she can see. kinda the funniest thing that he ever did.

+ scully's lil "workin hard, mulder?" and "sorry to interrupt your serious investigation" ...they're best friends

5/ "why don't you take that gun and shoot yourself in the head like you shot my father" (piper maru)

girl WHAAAAAATTTTT??

BONUS: all of his comments about religion (various episodes)

i put this one on the list and took it back off so many times but i have to speak my truth. every last one of them. i know they're mean and judgmental. i like it.

honorable mention: the mulder ditch™ (too many episodes in too many circumstances to make one of the lists but the way he constantly just leaves scully places deserves to be included. he literally has the object permanence of a 3-month old)

annoying moments that make me contemplate violence:

(only came up with 4 for now...but they're serious to me)

1/ "when he's old enough, tell the kid i went down swinging." (vienen)

me when i'm two weeks out of the grave and have purposefully endangered my ass on a boat full of killer alien goo and my idea of a funny sarcastic joke is to goad my partner into saving me by JOKING!!!! about her having to tell my baby that i'm DEAD!!!

what compelled him to say this. this is my "WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THIS" infographic mulder moment.

my favorite part is how scully doesn't even address it she just gives that kind of "jesus fucking christ" sigh and tells him to put doggett on the phone lol

2/ “all this because i didn’t get you a desk?” (never again)

literally god forbid a girl have an existential crisis in some FUCKING PEACEEEEE

3/ "diana saw it too. and no matter what you think, she's certainly not going to go around saying that just because science can't prove it, it isn't true." (the beginning)

lolololololol

listen, i defend him for the diana stuff, and i get it. i could write you a dissertation on the complications and emotions of it and why he says things like this or whatever. but it still annoys the ever-loving fucking hell out of me.

this one bothers me more than "scully, you're making this personal" because it's such a direct blow to the core of their dynamic and to what she tries to do for him. this comes so soon after he looked at her in the hallway and told her that her rationalism and science saved him.

which is a moment that meant so much to her and that she references in this same episode. she grabs his hand and she says "you told me that my science kept you honest. that it made you question your assumptions. that by it, i'd made you a whole person."

she has memorized everything that he's ever said and she heard him so deeply in that hallway. she stays so dedicated to offering that science and rationalism that she knows he needs, that she heard him say was best for him.

that moment in that hallway changed them for the rest of their lives, and this is when skepticism and belief start to morph from genuine ideology into roles that they play for each other.

she's doing her part, she's offering him her side, she's playing her role. and he throws it back in her face, says he'll just go play with diana then, because diana would never counter him with science.

LOLLLL okay then spooky, we'll fucking see if it's diana that comes to save your ass in the bermuda triangle

4/ "you act like you're surprised" (three words)

debated putting this one on here because everyone knows i loveeee three words and i loveeee s8 mulder and i'm obsessed with this scene, i've written multiple pieces about the fish in it, i wouldn't change a word of it

but i just have to because this is the other one that grates at me in the back of my head from time to time...because it's not that he doesn't think resurrection is surprising. it's not that he thinks it's a given that he'll always be around.

he just cannot hear and acknowledge how painful and difficult losing him was for her. because it would mean hearing and acknowledging that what he does matters, not because of what he can do or find, but because it matters that he's there. because it matters whether he lives or dies.

this episode is so heartbreakingly cruel in a way that they just aren't to each other, and that's what i love about it and what makes it stand out to me.

she's pregnant with his baby and she buried him. she was ripped off of his corpse screaming and she planned a funeral and decorated a nursery at the same time, alone. she sat in a hospital chair and held his hand for days when she knew he couldn't feel it.

for six months, he was gone. for three months, he wasn't ever coming back. that first day that they were looking for him, she teared up and whispered, "i just can't take the chance that i'm never gonna see him again," to skinner, and then she lived in a reality where she was never going to see him again. for three months.

she prayed and she prayed and she prayed and then she got to cry and laugh and hold onto him and take him home. and she tried to tell him, quietly, about the last six months. about how she doesn't think he could ever understand what it was like. about how she prayed, and about how her prayers "have been answered."

she told him how hard it was to learn he was missing, to search, to find him dead. "and now to have you back...," she smiled and said through tears.

"well, you act like you're surprised."

in less than 24 hours he is going to run towards death again and she is going to be left again with nothing to do but pray, and he cannot hear that it matters.

(y’all, remind me to do a post about mulder + humor in s8)

BONUS: referring to his mother's house as "the vineyard" (various episodes)

this one isn't that deep to me but "scully, i'm at the vineyard" just IRKS me like it gets on my NERVES. just an obnoxious ass thing to say

#mulder just muldering his mulderest #i love him more than anything #and ily!!#someone needs to make me do a nice mulder one next #honorable mention: dearest dana i cannot go on living #or whatever that fucking email said #asks #all of this comes from love but anyone who knows me knows that #kae meta

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ruru0803 · 3 months

Text

Unknown Territory: Five x Fem Reader

Chapter 2- we only see each other at weddings and funerals part 3

Five is aged up here.

I moved some moments from the other episode to here because it was already pretty long. Also I'm adding a scene from the second comic into this chapter.

Anyway...

Characters talking...

Five Hargreeves

You

Allison Hargreeves

Klaus Hargreeves

Diego Hargreeves

Vanya Hargreeves

Ben Hargreeves

Pogo

Grace

Luther Hargreeves

Comic Hazel - C.H.

Hazel

Cha Cha

Comic Cha Cha - C.C.

Everyone else is in white.

"Five what do you think?"

A younger you smiles at the boy holding up a flower crown you had made from the few remaining plants in the world.

"It's nice. Brings out your eyes."

You frown at him as you watch him put one of your dresses you found on Delores.

"You're not even looking..."

Five turns towards you looking at your flower crown before returning his attention back to what he was doing.

"It's nice. Brings out your eyes."

You shake your head with a smile on your face, rolling your eyes at his statement.

"What am I going to do with you?"

Five shrugs as you walk and sit next to him, placing the crown on his head. He side eyes you and you give a smile in return.

You two sit in silence for a moment, you study his face as he starts to fix your Delores' dress. You move a strand of hair from in front of his eyes, your hand lingers and Five lets your hand rest near his ear for a moment before removing it.

"Tell me a story, Five."

Five's brows scrunch together.

"About?"

"Anything."

You lay down on the ground placing your head into your hands, giving him your full attention.

"Once upon a time there lived a mermaid princess."

You glare at him, raising your hand to stop him from continuing.

"Stop. That's not what I meant."

"Then what do you want."

You roll your eyes at him in frustration, he glares at you in return. You might be able to peel in his mind when he has his guard down but he sure as hell couldn't read yours.

"Tell me something about you."

"Like what?"

"Anything!!"

You open your arms in a big gesture which causes Five to roll his eyes.

"Fine. About a few years ago when I turned 13..."

"Nietzsche once said, Man is as a rope stretched between the animal and the superhuman."

Our dad had us lined up against the wall, something he would do everyday always reading us a page from his book. Well he would tell us to wait under the stairs but Number 1 and 2 deemed it fair for everyone to start at the wall.

"A rope over the abyss. It is a dangerous crossing, a dangerous looking back, a dangerous trembling and halting."

He would always have Number 7 with him watching us. Something twisted he did to remind her that she was nothing like us. She would stand at his side as he wrote down information in his book about us as if we were his test subjects than his children.

That day was like any other, Number 7 blew her whistle and we all raced up the stairs.

"As much as you must strive for individual greatness, and strive you must, for it won't come to you of its own accord..."

Number 1 and 2 fought for first place like they always did, usually I would stay behind and chat with my brothers Number 4 and 6 but I had been working on my jumps and wanted to prove that I had gotten better.

"That there is no individual stronger than the collective."

I jumped in front of them instantly gaining the lead much to the annoyance of 1 and 2. I didn't care how upset they were I wanted to prove I was better. I don't know why, maybe it was the fact that our father put us in competition every day.

"That's not fair, Five's cheating!"

"He adapted."

It was nice to finally get some words of accomplishment from him even if it wasn't directly said to me. I won that day, though not all of my siblings were happy for me.

"The ties that bind you together make you stronger than you are alone."

That was the day I also got my tattoo. My siblings and I were nervous about it.

"They will make you impervious to the pain and hardship the world will thrust upon you."

It was a painful process though none of us wanted to show it. Number 2 basically pushed our Mom away to prove to Dad that he could handle it. Number 3 cried after, our brother Number 4 tried to comfort her.

What about Number 7? Well she drew hers on.

"And believe me when I tell you, life will be hard. It will be painful."

"Give me your best impression of your father."

You laugh as Five uses one hand to make a circle around his eye, he sends you a playful smile before making the most over the top frown on his face. He clears his throat before speaking the most proper accent.

"You might be born with powers but there's a difference between special and extraordinary. And you are neither."

"That accent."

Five eyes you mischievously before lying down next to you.

"It's obnoxious, I know."

You send him a sympathetic smile as he looks at the darkening sky.

"Did he really say that to you?"

He shrugs with a blank face trying to hide any emotion from seeping through.

"Number 7 had it worse than any of us. He made her a special example because she was the only one without powers. She had to hear that statement everyday. And from the looks of it things didn't get better according to her book."

You thought Five's impression was funny, the words though not so much. And by the look in his eyes you could see that in some capacity he might have actually believed those words his father told them.

You turn your body in the direction of Five before placing your hand on his cheek and turning his face towards you.

"I think you're extraordinary, Five Hargreeves."

Five looks into your eyes, looking for any signs of deceit but he couldn't find any. He smiles at you before grabbing your hand that was laid on his cheek..

⌛⌛⌛⌛ Violence in 321⌛⌛⌛⌛

Back at Griddy's,

Five knocks on the glass gaining the attention of the one of the Temps, he teleports as their finger pushes down on the trigger causing them to shoot at the glass. Five watches from the shadows and breaks a mop that sat beside him before teleporting next to the agent at the door and stabbing them in the side.

Five teleports behind another agent; who was distracted by the death of his coworker, Five uses his tie to choke the man to death. Another agent tries to sneak up on him only to get stabbed with a pencil in the dick, Five throws a plate at another agent with enough force that makes him crash into a wall before turning his attention back to the one in front of him and using the same pencil to stab the agent in the eye.

Five watches as two other agents turn towards him with their guns raised. He teleports out of the way causing the two to shoot each other to death.

Five looks down at the bloody and bruised bodies around him with a sadistic smile on his face, his uniform drenched in their blood, he walks up to the agent he choked out and grabs his tie, tying it around his neck. He turned his head to where he heard breathing and slowly walked up to the now maskless agent before snapping his neck.

He felt proud, like he somehow gave you a little bit of justice, He knew he couldn't save you; he didn't have a way back to the commission office but at least he felt like he could do this for you.

Five lets out a breathe before walking up to the counter and using a knife to cut into his skin not noticing cars pulling up in the parking lot behind him. He pulls out the tracker before walking outside and tosses it into the sewer.

Agents come out of their cars and surround him again.

Five sighs before taking his tie from around his neck and tying it around his wounded arm.

"Give me a fucking break."

One of the agents walks forward while the rest backup, taking cover behind their cars.

"It isn't standard protocol of the Temps Aeternalis to make such a spectacle."

Five crosses his arms, a dark glare making its way on his face.

"All of your corpses scattered in the store and around the parking lot isn't going to be 'discrete'.

The agent removes his mask.

"We don't want any trouble, Number 5. We just want you to come back and finish the job."

"That's unfortunate, because I am no longer in the practice of doing anything anyone wants me to do."

Five turns to walk away but the agent points his gun into the back of Five's head.

"Most unfortunate. Because my supervisors see you as a valuable asset to the commission."

The agent's hand shakes a little at the thought of taking the life of the person who they were explicitly told not to kill under in circumstances but if he wouldn't come willingly...

"An expensive acquisition, and a prize worth hunting until it has been captured..."

The agent lets out a breath before straightening their poster.

"Or killed."

"Well aren't you a bunch of tigers..."

The agent looks at him, confused.

"So hungry, so poised... All sharp teeth and swagger."

Five studies his surroundings as he speaks to the agent.

"A tiger shows a hundred stripes, but I know it has more than that. A tiger hides them. Do you know where it keeps them?"

"No-"

"Here's a hint."

Five teleports onto his shoulders and sticks his thumbs into his eyes, so deep that his blood comes out.

"Forget about the mission, Kill him!!"

Another agent yells out causing the others to shoot at the direction of the two men however Five already teleported by then causing them to shoot at the cars instead making them catch fire.

Five grabs a gun from the one of the car trunks as the cars start to blow up one by one killing the agents beside them.

"Get to cover!!"

Five's blood covered finger pushes down on the trigger, shooting some of the agents that tried to run.

He continues to teleport around gaining more agents attention and laughing as they keep blowing up more and more cars, killing their own members.

"Fast. Too Fast."

Five lands on the ground with the gun in his hand, burning bodies and cars surrounded the outside of Griddy's.

"I am in the jungle and I am too fast for you."

Five watches as one of the agents tries to crawl away.

"You have teeth and stripes and things that tear."

Five reloads the gun.

"But I am much too fast. You want my flesh, but you don't know where the jungle is...only I know where the jungle is...only I know."

Five shoots the agent in the head.

"I am a gazelle. I will always be faster than you."

Five lets out a satisfied laugh but that soon stops at the sound of static.

"W-we need them now...T-target confirmed in this area..."

Five teleports to where the voice was coming from.

"P-please send help..."

Five shoots the guy dead and let's out a sigh before static fills his ears again.

"Mission control dispatching Hazel and ChaCha..."

Five's eyes widened in fear.

"God dammit.."

💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼

"Handler, Handler!!"

The Handler looked up from her desk in the direction of the panicked Agent that walked into the room.

"Unless this is about the two traitors, I don't want to hear it."

"It is ma'am. Five was last located at Griddy's, a call came in confirming the location before the line went dead. But it seems Five has somehow taken his tracking device out."

The Handler squeezes her fist tightly at the agent's words.

"Yes, Yes. I am aware. Any Idea where he is now?"

The agent shakes their head with a slight frown on their face.

"No Ma'am. Nothing recent."

"So he's missing..."

The agent nods.

"Yes Ma'am."

"And the other one?"

The agent looks down at the clipboard in their hands.

"Looks like she's in a different timeline. I've already made preparations to send agents after her."

"I've already sent the Hazels and ChaChas on this mission."

The agent's face paled at her words. The Hazels and ChaChas were good at their jobs, great even but three of the four were sick. They'd do anything to complete a mission. Anything.

"B-But I thought you wanted them back alive..."

The Handler stands up looking the agent dead in the eye.

"I told them to beat Five up a little if they have to but I need him alive. Do what they will with the other one."

The agent lets out a little gulp and nods nervously before leaving the room.

🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧

You ducked into a theater with your hands covering your ears as the sounds of gunfire sounded in the air.

As soon as you left the commission building, you used the suitcase to bring you to the past. You remembered Five mentioning the day the apocalypse happened from some newspaper he found. You weren't there when it happened since you were dealing with your own issues under water but you took his word for it.

Not even an hour into leaving the commission office, did you encounter the sound of maniacal laughter. Hazel and ChaCha.

Luckily from the quick glance you got of them before ducking behind a seat, it seemed like it was only two of them which relieved you a little bit until you realized you had the blood thirsty ones on your trail.

"Y/N come out, come out, wherever you are."

"Fuck me...."

You whispered to yourself as you looked over the seats to see how far they were. Their pink and blue masks seemed like they were mocking you as they got closer and closer to your area.

"How'd they even..."

Duck back down and looked at your arm.

"Shit..."

The gun shots stopped for a second and you looked up to see what they were doing. The two men in masks were looking down at the tracking device in Chacha's hand before looking in the direction of where you hid. You quickly ducked back down, since the other people that were around started shooting in your direction. Catching the attention of Hazel and ChaCha.

You couldn't see them but in that moment you felt extreme terror. How were you going to get out of this?

You closed your eyes trying to think of a way to get yourself out of this situation.

You could use your siren voice but there was no way of knowing if they were wearing headphones under those masks.

Not to mention there was already so much going on in that moment. Bullets rain in the air, trying to hit whatever they could make contact with while a blinding white light burned your eyes as you tried to take a look at the commotion that was also happening behind you.

You pulled out a pocket knife that Johnny had slipped into your pocket. You winced as you cut deep into your arm before sticking your fingers in to pull out the tracker that was in there.

"Fuck!"

You didn't have too much time to worry about your wound because a voice started to yell above the commotion. You turned in the direction of the entrance to find a guy dressed in a red and white shirt, dark jeans and a green vest hopping over the stairs case. His hair was messy and he had dark makeup around his eyes, he looked about your age well... younger.

You started to panic as the agents turned their guns towards him. You rushed over; suitcase in hand, without even thinking and pulled the guy down and covered him with your arms as the guns fired off again.

You looked at the dude and checked for any injuries before looking over the seats again after finding none. Your eyes widened as you found the familiar face of a twenty year old Five hopping on the back of one of the agents and moving his gun to where he ended up shooting his own partners that were close by.

You're blinded again as the guy beside you, hands start to glow a similar shade of blue to Five's. Then you realize who this could be, a small smile makes its way on your face. One of Five's brothers that he'd always talk about. You were finally able to meet one though you wished it was under better circumstances.

He stands up and spreads his hands, the next thing you know all the agents are being thrown around or killed. You looked at him in amazement, this could only be Klaus. Five told you about his siblings powers but to actually see it in action.

"Wow. You're amazing."

The guy you assumed was Klaus smiled at your reaction and gave you a bashful look.

"Thank you. It was nothing."

Unknowingly to you, his ghost brother beside him let out a sigh as he continues to tear the other agents apart.

"Really Klaus?"

Your attention is pulled again ChaCha walks in, This was the female ChaCha, unlike her counterpart who was now making eye contact with her, she didn't have her mask.

She looks taken back at the sight of the other two before recognition filled her eyes.

"She's here?"

ChaCha nods at her.

"She is."

Five takes cover in the seats closest to watching as his brother uses his powers to conjure the other. His attention quickly shifts to you and his eyes filled with happiness and relief.

He teleports behind you and you jump as he places his hands on your shoulders taking your attention away from the brother in front of you.

Your eyes start to water as you face him, he sends you a small grin before pulling you into a hug. For you it might have only been two or three days but Five had eight long days without you. Tears fill his eyes at the warmth of your body against his, yours had already started to fall as you pulled him against you tighter. If it was one thing you two could admit, it's that being without the other was like hell.

You breathe in his scent before pulling back and placing your hands on his cheeks. You watch as his grin turns into a wide smile, one that showed off his dimples, tears of relief falling down his face. You pull his face closer to yours before giving him a lot of kisses around his face getting a genuine laugh from him. After you finish, he places his forehead against yours.

"I missed you."

He looks deep into your eyes.

"So m-much."

You pull him into another hug which causes him to whimper.

"But you can't stay here."

You pull your head back to look at him with questioning eyes.

"I need you to go back a few days.''

"Back?"

Five nods.

"I need you to find me and tell me it's Vanya."

Your eyes squint in confusion not processing what he meant.

"Do you understand?"

You shake your head.

"I just found you."

Five messes with the suitcase before handing it to you.

"I need you to understand."

You shake your head, not wanting to say goodbye.

"Please..."

You looked into his eyes and knew he wasn't going to change his mind on this one. You nodded with a sad look in your eye.

"Don't look at me like that."

Five frowns as he rubs your cheek with his thumb.

"You'll find me again."

You take a deep breath before giving him a nod of assurance.

"I won't let you down."

"I know you won't."

⌛🎻⌛🎻⌛🎻⌛🎻⌛🎻⌛🎻⌛🎻

Vanya walks down the hall to her apartment with a look of disgust on her face. The meeting she went to was distrubing to say the least. She had gone to the theatre where the person on the phone said he would be and discovered an orchestra there though the atmosphere didn't feel right. It felt more like a cult and at the head of it was the conductor.

He had forced her to play a song to show off her skill before telling her of a piece he wrote. He called it, 'The Apocalypse Suite.'

Vanya thought it was a waste of time and turned to leave with him taunting her as she did. It all felt like some type of sick joke.

Vanya took a breath to calm her nerves before unlocking her door and stepping inside. She jumped in fright when the lamp on the other side of the room lit up to reveal Five sitting on the couch, one leg crossed over the other.

"Jesus!"

"You should really have locks on your windows."

Vanya looked at him confused as she placed her keys down and turned to lock the door.

"I live on the second floor."

He gave her the most blank stare.

"Rapists can climb."

There was a beat of silence.

"You are so weird."

Five studies her as she sits on the couch. Vanya nervously rubs her hands against her pants before giving him a concerned look.

"Is that blood?"

Five slightly glances at his collar and soothes himself by rubbing his fingers together.

"It's nothing."

Vanya looks at him like she doesn't buy it but there was no use trying to get any answers from him, she learnt that from her father.

"Why are you here?"

Five pauses a moment to think about what he wanted to say.

"I've decided you're the only one I can trust."

"Why me?"

"Because you're ordinary."

Five watches as a crestfallen look befalls her face. He backtracks after he realizes that was the wrong thing to say.

"Because you'll listen."

Vanya gets up and goes into the bathroom to get things to help heal his self inflicted wound. She winces as he reveals it before cleaning it.

Five talks to her about the future, he eyes glaze over as he remembers the wreckage he found, the flames that surrounded the city, the lifeless bodies. Everything a thirteen year old boy shouldn't have witnessed.

As Five opens up to her about what he saw and how he felt, Vanya begins to look at him sceptically.

Next⌛🫧

#five x y/n #five hargreaves x reader #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves #five x reader #umbrella academy tv series #the umbrella academy comics #umbrella academy comic #the umbrella academy #vanya #ben hargreeves #allison hargreeves #luther hargreeves #reginald hargreeves #hazel #chacha #klaus hargreeves

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accidentalshifter · 1 month

Text

Vampire Diaries/Originals-verse [Dawn Misplaced] DR:

⚜️ TW: My Mikaelsons are a ✨️ problem ✨️ and how they behave (or don't) will probably be unpredictable. Blood, sex, death, abuse, violence, & dark themes. I don't condone any of their actions, I'm just documenting them for science.

*Some things from previous posts might be reiterated upon in this one. Y'all this is super TLDR, be warned.

It's impossible to talk about this DR without talking about the unfinished fanfiction that sprang into my brain last year and refused to die; "Dawn Misplaced". After watching half a season of the Originals & relating heavily to the Mikaelson's generational trauma/cycles, this plot bunny appeared, assuring me that I should totally sin against the canon & create an alternate universe before I watched all of the source material...

So, William Webb and his adopted daughter Zoey St. Claire (Webb) was born. My OC had so much of myself inside of her that she was technically a self-insert or in shifting theory, a DR self. And William, now that I think hard about it, is probably a representation of my own generational trauma that I saw playing out in the show. Ahh, apologies for reading too much into that. Anyways!

Keep in mind that I had only watched season one and two of the Originals (and half of the first season of Vampire Diaries) before Zoey self-insert brain rot took full effect. Little did I know that many of my plot ideas for Dawn Misplaced ended up being explored by TVD in season three/four via Alaric Saltzman and The 5. (It was a trip watching those episodes for the first time recently with a friend) Like Alaric, William was a vampire hunter forced into action by tragedy & succumbed to the dark obsession inside of him that urged him to kill vampires at all costs. There's only one real difference between Alaric and William's slaying methods; killing innocent kids. Alaric at least had some sort reasonable criteria for who he'd murder. William Webb, on the other hand, was willing to slaughter a whole damn orphanage if it meant putting a stake in the vampire menace forever.

Zoey St. Claire was one of the seven children who managed to survive William's slaughter. Although, he insists it was a "necessary evil" for his experiment to work. You see, he'd run across a very old book that his ancestor, Will Webb (the first) had written, documenting a ritual meant to create a super slayer. A living weapon. Just as strong, fast, invulnerable to compulsion, and able to withstand a beating from a vampire. But was more intended for the sole purpose of killing The Originals. Yes, my DR self is fighting her intense instinct to murder her neighbors. (Are you getting that FNAF vibe? William Webb=TVD Purple Guy).

Basically, it's the Missing Children Incident all over again.

My super slayer idea was real close if not the same as "The Five." Of course, I'll never know because all Dawn Misplaced ended up being was this:

As I mentioned in previous posts, the waking dreams started with that simple plot bunny and did not stop. Growing a life all their own despite my best efforts to starve it, uproot it, and purge it from my memories. I've written other fanfics before, abandoning them when I eventually lost my muse, but this one? Like a vampire, refuses to die.

Half a year is a long ass time to keep having intrusive minishifts, so. My friend in fandom crime suggested I should give into my delulu and start yanking back on the tugs. Even if it is just all in my head.

Now, I'm not new to shifting practices. Since my childhood days locked in a bedroom, I've been super good at dissociating & exploring different realities within my dreamworld. But that's just it isn't it? This DR isn't really mine. Sure, the Dawn Misplaced elements of it are. Will and Zoey are. The rest of it, though? It's built upon a foundation I didn't lay. It's a sum total of the books, the TV series, & all of the dreamers who've dreamt of the Mikaelsons. Of course it's resistant to scripting and has a life of its own. I'm only one singular drop in a pond.

It's like...

So, while I can't control what the characters will do or the scenarios that'll unfold once I begin shifting to [Dawn Misplaced DR], I can control how I choose to react. I'll have to be more cunning than the plot. The only thing I seem to do okay with is "I'm back in my CR" and (recently) which location I get dropped into. Mystic Falls or The French Quarter. Idk, maybe I'm just a bad shifter even if I've been doing it for a while...

I'm going to have to be more stubborn than the sum total of the fandom itself.

*Using the Taglock Method has been helping me somewhat in focusing.

However, here's the scripts that I HOPE I can get to work:

⚜️ While in DR, I share the strengths & skills of Zoey St. Claire (Webb) as a slayer.

⚜️ Using Taglock Method bound to an epoxy ring I wear both in my CR and DR, I can eject myself from the DR when taking off the ring and enter it when wearing the ring. (This one seems to work)

⚜️ All houses owned by William Webb are a safe spot. (This one should work because it cooperates with TVD/Originals canon)

⚜️ Retain memories of CR self while in DR. (As long as I'm doing awake daydreaming, I seem to be able to do that)

...And what about an s/o, you say? 🫠 I think I've got bigger fish to fry. I'm not going to try and force anything to happen if it even does. After all, I'm no Elena Gilbert! Trying to date in the "real world" is already hard enough...

Additional BONUS LORE for DM that may or may not become relevant because my DR is an unruly child and it was only just ideas I'd casually thrown around in my brain for the fanfic:

⚜️ William Webb (the first) was an exorcist priest for the Vatican. His journals document the various "demonic spirits" he expelled and eventually spiraled into unhinged ranting. On the surface, at least. William Webb (the later) was able to decipher the super slayer ritual from these journals with the help of a witch probably.

⚜️ Either William Webb (the first or the later) was ex-communicated by the church for his inappropriate use of witchcraft against "the demonic spirits." He's become a boogeyman (much like Mikael) with a bad reputation that has preceded him and casts a shadow on all the Webbs.

⚜️ TVD/Originals seems to have werewolves and vampires, vengeful ghosts, witches, and hybrids. Along with doppelgangers & magic miracle babies. But what I noticed it doesn't have is angels. The seedling concept for my DR's super slayers are humans possessed by the blood & flesh of the archangel they were forced by William Webb to eat. Kind of have a zombie vibe to them, huh??? Can you tell I probably have religious trauma, LOL?

⚜️ William Webb's descendants eventually made their way to the new world during the time the Originals were in New Orleans and mingled within the same circles. The Webbs later settled down in Mystic Falls working as textile merchants of European fashions. You kinda gotta do what you can when you stop benefiting from the Roman Catholic church.

⚜️ While not technically a "founding family," the Webbs do possess a spot on the Mystic Falls council. For once, the shadow of their ancestor's legend pays off big time for them. Especially in a town plagued by real "demonic spirits." Originally, I thought the Webbs were ex-communicated from the town council but my first controlled shift (yesterday) into my DR revealed that wasn't the case. See what I mean by the DR choosing which bonus lore it wants to validate?

⚜️ In TVD/Originals it's mentioned that each and every supernatural creature in Universe must have a set of strengths/weaknesses. I had originally planned that my super slayers were disabled by sulfur, solar eclipses, and had a tendency to "go corrupt" if they broke an angelic virtue. However, what an angelic virtue is is open to interpretation. It likely is similar to what Dark!Alaric was.

⚜️ Elijah Mikaelson and a descendant of Will Webb knew each other. Elijah was interested in the journals of William Webb (the first) for whatever reason. Intrigue, maybe? Or maybe something more serious than that...

⚜️ The most recent William Webb (the later) hid his super slayer project from the Mystic Falls council. The majority of them, at least. I'm almost certain that if he told anybody at all, it was probably John Gilbert. Hell, given John's attitude and medical knowledge, he might've been in on it with William.

⚜️ William Webb (the later) raised the seven surviving kids to be hunting machines. Zoey is the last one standing who didn't corrupt & chose to turn her back on William at the age of 15, emancipating herself (legally) as soon as she could to live a "normal life." D.M. was going to take place after William's untimely death where Zoey St. Claire must return to Mystic Falls to settle her father's accounts and do something with the property she has now inherited.

⚜️ Zoey has vague, fleeting memories of her childhood in Mystic Falls. She (alongside her 6 other "siblings") only experienced a couple of years living there "peacefully" in the Webb estate before William took them on the road to hunt. Zoey was homeschooled much like the Umbrella Academy kids. It's nebulous at best whether Zoey (or the 6 other kids) ever met Elena in their childhood much less any other character living in Mystic Falls.

⚜️ Unlike her six siblings, Zoey never took to slaying vampires half as fervently as William wanted her to and rejected his doctrine soon after witnessing the corruption of the eldest of her siblings during a vampire hunt. Being a deserter earned her no points from Will or the rest of the Webb family. She is now more likely to sympathize with vampires than side with hunters despite her awkward position of being the last remaining Webb, having to be present for council meetings for as long as she is stuck in Mystic Falls settling Will's legal accounts, estates, & the things he left her in his will.

Some last, finalizing thoughts on this TLDR, DR Intro before I start actually documenting my shifts...

In my last post, I said it was all real. Shifting is real and it's really happening. Somewhere. And that somewhere is inside of me as well as outside of me as an objective reality all its own. Theoretically.

I wanna add a "yes, and" to this theory for the preservation of what little sanity I have left...

Yes, it's all real. And I'm pretty sure the thing that forged this pull, this...link...to the TVD & Originals-verse was/is my shitty childhood. I see a lot of my own family trauma inside the story of the Mikaelsons and the Salvatores. I think that by exploring this link and allowing it to show me things, the adventure I plan to embark on might give me an opportunity to reflect on my wounds. Maybe even heal...

If it's all real, then confronting my DR-self's trauma could help me find closure with my CR-self's trauma as well. And if I get to have anything from this experience, I'd like it to be healing.

It's a good thing I'm a vampire slayer then, right?

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thekingofwinterblog · 1 year

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Sasha's Parents

Allright, so thanks to the diary we finally got some definite info on Sasha's parents. Let's dissect it, and analyze how the divorce might have turned her into the person she is today.

According to Anne, Sasha's parents divorced when she was around four- or five-years-old. Her father remarried and doesn't seem to have had any other kids, while her mother has a long-term boyfriend who has kids of his own.

So what does this tell us? Well, the first thing we have to do is speculate which of Sasha's parents has custody of her, because knowing that, we can draw a lot of conclusions.

Personally, I am almost certain that it's her father, for reason i'll go into below.

Firstly, let's analyze the events of the divorce, before trying to figure out how the events of the series relates to the original plan the creators had to have an episode where Sasha reveals the full details of her backstory to Anne.

Mr and Mrs Waybright divorced when Sasha was 5 years old, but the implication we get from what little we know about the two people involved suggests that this wasn't simply a case of two people realizing things weren't working out... Because the implications seems to be that Mrs Waybright left her husband for another man... Who already had kids of his own, and who she very explicitly did not marry.

Why is this important? Because it explains everything we ever needed to know about Sasha's seething, burning desire to always be in control, and more importantly, on top.

Because in Sasha's 5 year old mind, seeing her mom leave her dad for another man, who already had a bunch of kids, while abandoning her, is tantamount to saying that she was worthless in her mother's eyes. She didn't measure up. Clearly her mom cared more about these kids than her... When in reality, it was the new boyfriend she actually cared about, not the kids. Neither the new ones... Or her own flesh and blood.

It also explains perfectly why Sasha's reaction to the Plantars "Stealing" Anne from her turned her downright murderous. In her mind it was basically history repeating itself again. Her losing someone she loved to another family she knew nothing about.

No wonder this girl hated the very concept of family.

Meanwhile, her dad married another woman, which which can safely assume was not a warm, loving relationship. More likely than not, whether this woman wanted to try and be a mother to Sasha, it's abundantly clear that that wasn't gonna happen. After the divorce, Sasha would have rejected any and all attempts at replacing her mother, and that stuck.

Her eternal quest to make Anne and Marcy happy is also explained by this. Sasha wants to make the people she loves happy. She wants them to like her, to appreciate her, to be rewarded with love and attention by people she loves and cares about.

But while this does explain a lot(Her control issues, her disdain for family, her non existent love for said family) there is still some things it does not explain, or at least there seems to be something more we aren't told.

So, let's put forth another question, to explain the things that a simple, if ugly divorce does not explain.

Was Sasha abused by her parents?

Throughout the series, Sasha continously says some extremely heavy lines, that though they fit perfectly with what is happening in the moment, all seem to be as a response to something else that happened previously in Sasha's life, that we just don't have the context for.

When Sasha hits her absolute lowest point, after having seemingly destroyed the only thing she truly cared about for Good and all, Sasha very deliberately refers to herself as belonging in the Trash, and that it's all someone like her deserves, in a tone that suggests she is accepting something she felt deep in her heart was innevitable.

That could be her being overly dramatic... But it could be something else.

Like she had been told that this was all she amounted to, a worthless brat who no one would love, who belonged in the trash.

Not while Anne and Marcy are getting by withouth me.

This line is pretty clear in it's meaning, but again, the way it's said and worded suggests it's referencing something someone else said at some point.

Hey anne... Maybe you're better off without me.

Sasha's famous line when she decides to kill herself is an important one, and one where she proves that she is willing to lay down her life for anne if it comes to that.

But knowing the circumstances with her parents divorce, it's hard not to read more into it. That Sasha had a genuine fear that her mother didn't just leave her, but that she was better off withouth her.

That could be projecting... but it doesn't have to be. Sasha could have heard it straight from the horse's mouth.

End of discussion

This one is absolutely referencing a line. This is a line Sasha uses to shut down any arguments Anne has when Sasha wants the discussion to end.

But that isn't something kids tend to learn on their own. They learn that by example. By mimicking others.

So before going into speculation of how Sasha may or may not have been abused, lets finish by pointing out the biggest argument for it.

The incredibly unsettling, and unnatural way Sasha does not care about her Parents in any way.

Sasha makes it abundantly clear throughout the entire series that she does not care about her parents. At all. Her relationship with them isn't a complicated one. It's nonexistent. As far as she cares, it does not exist.

That is incredibly unnatural behavior from a child. Even the most abused, or neglected of children will usually have some form of natural attachment to their parents, or parental figures. It's simply the way human beings are made.

It takes A LOT to break that bond completely, even for an adult.

But Sasha isn't an adult. She is a child. And yet her bond to her parents is as far as she is concerned for most of the series, broken beyond any repair.

And she doesn't care to try and fix it. That all on it's own speaks volumes of just how BAD her relationship with her folks are.

So, let's get to speculating on what exactly the kind of abuse Sasha might have gone through with her parents, because there is probably two very distinct kinds from each of her parents.

Of the two, I would guess that if she was abused, the most visceral part came from her mom.

Most of Sasha's biggest issues are clearly a result of her mother leaving her, and so this would make sense.

So, what sort of abuse might Sasha have suffered at the hands of her mother that broke her down so badly, given the woman left her behind, and so probably didn't interact with her much beyond this?

If i had to guess, all of it probably stems for what happened during the divorce, where her mom essentially put all her cards on the table, and let her real feelings be put on full display.

And there are several reasons her mom might have had to lash out at her own child. It could be as simple as the fact she used Sasha to hurt her now ex-husband. Rubbing in that he was stuck with her now.

It could be that sasha was an unplanned child that she didn't want, and had secretly resented for all five years of her life.

She may have been pressured into having her by her Mr Waybright, and now that she no longer had to even try to make him happy, she made it abundantly clear how much she never wanted the damned child he put in her.

Or she could flat out not have liked Sasha, based solely on her personality.

Whatever the reasons, it's clear that the events of the divorce shattered Sasha to her core, and would be essential into forming her into the person she was at the start of the series.

Having one of the people that Sasha(Who is a person who forms STRONG attachments) loves more than any other, turn on her completely, and reveal she always hated her would probably have done the trick.

Now, let's move on to Mr Waybright.

I am very certain that Sasha probably learned the "End. Of. Discussion." From him, as their relationship seems to have been a different kind of breakdown.

Namely that he seems to have given up on Sasha, giving her a level of personal control over her life that is downright irresponsible, letting her throw parties on the regular, seemingly giving her free access to cash as she needs it, and having failed to instill any discipline into his kid.

These are all classic symptoms of a relationship where the parent has given up, and simply gives the kid what they want so they don't have to deal with them.

But was this always the case?

The simple fact is, that with what we know of Mrs Waybright, the extreme destruction of her relationship with Sasha makes sense. There are details one has to speculate on, but there is a clear line to follow from point A to B.

Not so with Mr Waybright.

We know where they ended up, the turning point, but not the steps between.

The only thing we have to go on, Is that amongst her many, many unusual traits for someone so young, Sasha has a much older person's view on discipline. Namely she does not respond to it, because she does not respect the person delivering it, be they teachers or Grime.

It does not take a genius to figure out that this probably stems from her relationship with her father.

The simplest, and most likely explanation is that Mr Waybright attempts at parenting probably involved a lot of discipline, and attempts to instill Sasha with a sense dread at a phrace with the meaning of "This conversation is over".

In this he obviously failed, Because for whatever reason(probably something that happened during the divorce) Sasha does not respect him... But Sasha in turn seems to have learned this very kind of tactic herself from him.

Mr Waybright thusly seems to have had more of a sense of familial obligation to Sasha... At least trying to instill her with something resembling discipline... Until finally just giving up on her all together and just letting her do as she pleased.

All in all whether there was actual abuse involved, or just a child's entire world crumbling due to a very ugly divorce, I really, really wish we'd gotten Sasha's backstory episode.

#amphibia #sasha waybright #anne boonchuy #meta #sasha's parents #mrs waybright #mr waybright #speculation #parental abuse #cycle of abuse

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